#opposing sides

Long before Eren changed the world, Levi loved you, but in the end your choice to stand with the Jaegerists turns that love into something tainted.

Levi had learned how to live with ghosts.

They came easy in his sleep, lingered in quiet moments, hovered just behind his shoulder when the world went still. Fallen comrades. Unfinished orders. Names he never said out loud anymore.

But you were different.

You weren’t dead.

That was the problem.

You’d been dating long before Eren learned what rage could do to the world. Before walls cracked and ideals split clean down the middle. Back when survival was simple and love was quiet. Levi never said much, but you learned him anyway. The way his hand always found yours in the dark. The way he checked your gear before his own. The way he trusted you on his flank without question.

The day the Female Titan tore through the rear formation, you were in charge of the back flank.

Everyone died.

Except you.

A: are we together in every universe

day 9 of @whumptember

831 words

warnings: teenage whumpee, conditioned whumpee, cursing, betrayal, being chained to a wall

part one | part two | part three | part four | part six

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Vigilante curls up on the bed, ignoring Villain’s eyes boring into his back. He pulls the blanket up to his chin and stares at the wall, gently tracing circles onto the back of his hand to calm himself down. 

After a moment, Vigilante rolls over and croaks, “Leave me alone.” 

Villain’s mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again before he nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. He walks down the hallway and flops onto the couch with an exhausted sigh. “What the fuck.” 

In his pocket, Villain’s phone rings; he answers the call and hears Hero’s ragged breathing. “Did you come take him?” she rasps. “Villain, I swear to god-”

“What are you talking about?” he interrupts. “Take who? What’s going on?” 

He can hear her thinking on the other end of the line, turning over everything she knows about him and seeing if it was possible that he’d do what she’s accusing him of. “You didn’t come over to take Vigilante? And you expect me to trust you?” 

Villain takes a moment to come up with a reaction, “He’s missing? You said you’d keep him safe! I’m coming over, we’ll look for him together. I’ll be there as soon as I can be.” 

She grunts something and hangs up, across the street from Villain’s apartment, she can see him set the phone down and run his hands over his face. She frowns, watching, waiting for him to do something to prove that he’d been the one to get Vigilante. He walks down the hall. 

Vigilante doesn’t move when the door opens, he stares absently at a scratch in the wall and waits for Villain to say whatever he needs to. 

“I need to know if it was Hero who did this to you.” he whispers, squatting down to eye-level with Vigilante. “Because she just called me, and I’m going to meet with her. And I need to know if I can tell her you’re with me, or if I need to keep her away from you.” 

Vigilante closes his eyes and tucks his face to his chest. Villain sighs and leans against the wall. 

“Look, kid. You don’t have to tell me what happened. But I need to know if she did this to you…so I can keep you safe this time.” 

Vigilante peeks over the blanket and stares at Villain, he takes a deep breath and nods, watching as Villain’s face contorts from concern to rage. 

Taking a deep breath, Villain stands up and leaves the room. He gently closes the door and walks down the hallway to get his things and leave to meet with Hero. She wouldn’t get away with what she’d done to Vigilante. 

Hero looks up when someone knocks furiously on the door, she sets her book face-down on the table and opens the door. “What took you so long?” she asks, feigning worry. “He’s been missing for almost two hours! I don’t even know what to do, I can’t find my phone, all his things are still in his room…” she throws her arms around him and sobs into his chest. “What do you think happened to him?” 

Villain forces himself to comfort her, he pats her back firmly and wraps the other arm around her. “I’m sure he’ll be back, maybe he just needed to get some air.” he leads them both to the couch and has her sit down. “How about I make us some tea and we wait a little longer to send the troops after him? Do you still like yours with milk?” 

She forces a smile and nods, “Yeah, I can’t believe you remember that. Thanks.” 

He drapes a blanket over her and shakes his head playfully, “Of course I do. Kitchen is still at the end of the hall?” 

“Kind of hard to move it somewhere else,” she chuckles. He laughs with her and turns down the hall. 

The door to her room is closed, but what he assumed was Vigilante’s room is open. He takes a step inside and the first thing that jumps out at him is the lack of a bed. The carpet is stained with old blood and torn cloth. Villain walks out of the room, shaking his head and muttering to himself, “He’ll tell you if he’s ready. Don’t invade.” 

Hero puts her hand on his shoulder and he jumps, turning to face her. “Yeah, don’t invade, Villain. It’s not very polite. But, since you’re already here, might as well have a seat. The show’s about to begin.” 

She pushes him back and he falls down to the ground with the impact of the wall on his back. Then, before he can react, she puts cuffs around his wrists and hooks the chain to a hook on the wall. 

Part 2/2 - previous

Doomed relationship | Opposing sides | Fatal wound 

TW: emotional whump, beating, stabbing, probable death

'Just great.' Tim thought to himself. His head was pounding in rhythm to his heartbeat.

A strong hand grabbed for the collar of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. Apparently beside Sonya, there were 2 men in his appartment by now. The only escape was blocked by goon numbre two standing in front of the door, Tim should have never opened.

Goon numbre one had Tim on unsteady legs again and pushed his back against the bookshelf. His grip was strong, his voice deep and his eyes vicious.

"We came to collect. Your girlfriend said, you'd pay, what she owes." Tim could feel the big guy knuckles pressing against his windpipe just by holding him in this uncomfortable position. Swallowing was hard, the external pressure as bad as the lump inside his throat itself.

Tim's hands were still free, so he lifted them and opened his palms in a disarming gesture. "Sorry, I can't, she took all I had." His intimidator pushed him a bit more against the shelf. The edge of the wooden shelf boards pressing against his skeleton, pain slowly building up.

The guy made an undefinable sound, which could only mean, he didn't believe.

"Really man, she cleaned out my account and stole a stage of bills from under my bed. I've got nothing left. Even if I wanted to, what I defintely don't anymore, I couldn't pay a cent."

The guy let go of Tim's collar, turned his head towards Sonya and then let his eyes wander between them. "Really? What a cold bitch!" There was something in his voice, that almost sounded like astonishment.

Tim's rose his arms, which were freely hanging beside his own body, palms up. "Yeah, that's why I kicked her out." He smiled a sad smile, but goon numbre one just looked at him. "Too bad, then."

The fist came out of nowhere and so did the pain, that was driven right into his abdomen. Tim jackknifed and went to his knees. All air left his lungs accompanied by a grunt. The guy's other hand grabbed for Tim's hair and suddenly pulled him up again.

The man's facial expression was heartless, but his voice carried almost a soft edge. "That's really too bad." He made a theatrical pause and looked back at Sonya. "So you lost your last bargaining chip here, bitch."

The fist connected with Tim's jaw. His head snapped back and the base of his scull hit a shelf board. Stars danced before his eyes, his knees buckled again. But the tight grip in his hair, left him standing. He needed to hold on to the shelf, if he wanted to keep the connection between hair, head and skin intakt. "NO!" Sonya's high pitched paniced voice got the guys' attention. He looked at her.

It didn't seem possible, but his expression turned even more deadly. "Told you bitch. If you couldn't pay, someone would. This was always going to happen." Goon numbre one locked eyes with Tim again. "For what it's worth, sorry man." The guys shoulders shrugged. He tilted his head and blinked, a vicious grin. "Nah, I'm really not!" The hand in Tim's hair jerked him forward, while a sharp pain exploded inside his guts. The pain was overwhelming, he couldn't breath. It seemed life just froze.

Disbelieving Tim looked down on himself. It felt like watching a movie. He was completely disconnected from his body, when the bloody blade was pulled out of his belly.

A high note was ringing in his ears, it was disturbing, nervewrecking. Finally and thankfully a loud slap interruped Sonya's scream. Tim looked at the guy in front of him, his head was still or again awkwardly tilted and a psychopatic smirk around his lips. The hand in Tim hair loosened its grip. Gravity took its course and he hit the floor ungracefully, while his mind was lost in all consuming darkness.

A Zemeni saint, one who championed impossible love.

Forbidden love.

The kind of love Inej knew well.

She was the Lionness, now. The silent, stalking, knife-wielding terror of Ketterdam, spoken of only in feared whispers.

It was better than the Lynx, at least. And now Inej had knives, she found men much more easily dissuaded from her company.

She was slowly working off her indenture, sold by Heleen to Pekka Rollins, and prayed to her saints while she waited for the time she would finally be free.

There was just one tiny, insignificant, minor problem with her current situation.

Kaz Brekker.

The Lieutenant of the Dregs, and a one-man-band of death and destruction throughout the Barrel. Dirtyhands seemed determined to become King of the Staves, and wasn’t afraid to cut a bloody swathe through all who opposed him.

Rollins’ instructions were to take anything on Brekker they could, if they came across him in their work. Take what they could: a secret, a job, a pigeon. A finger.

Rollins really wasn’t that fussy.

And Inej was the only one who’d ever snuck up on Kaz. Only once, but that had been enough.

She’d taken something from him, something far more important than a secret or a finger.

But, as she discovered only later, he’d stolen something from her in return.

A heart for a heart.

They could never be together, not properly.

Not when they stood on opposing sides of the bloodiest gang war Ketterdam had ever seen.

Not when they battled their own demons, that snarled and raged and rose and barred them from physical intimacy.

Not when the cost of such love was vulnerability, in a place that would mercilessly feed on any deemed weak.

And so, Inej prayed to Sankta Maradi.

To watch over them both, to keep them both safe.

To protect Kaz while she couldn’t be at his back, his eyes and ears in the skies, watching him from the rooftops.

To protect her, and her secret, and her body and soul, as she murdered and maimed and made threats in Rollins’ name.

To one day give them a world, in which she and Kaz fought their way out together, blades drawn, pistols blazing.

To one day give them a world where their love was no longer forbidden.

opposing sides