Feathery wings
There's my first contribution to this Levi week (which a friend of mine qualified as « omg, you fangirls are crazy » week). Prompt : a song.
As for the music (voltaire), it's here: watch?v=cwiTPOzPJu4
At first, my (obvious) choice for the prompt would have been « Reluctant heroes », but it seemed fair to find another song which wasn't already related to Levi (and RL will probably inspire a lot of writers, anyway). That said, I think that when you love something or someone, you can see its reflection in almost everything, so there are as many good choices as writers 3. So please don't kill me and try to ignore me butchering the english language.
Have a nice Levi week ! =D
You, there on the bridge,
Where have you been ?
What's your name ?
And you, there on the wall,
Where will you go to, once you fall ?
Levi stiffled a yawn in front of the crowd of trainees, unimpressed by Shadis' roars. He still remembered the way he looked like when he had their age – so long ago - but just couldn't imagine himself wearing their zealous expressions. In spite of this difference, he knew they were probably just as lost as he was at the time. Back then, he didn't know he would have to live up to the Humanity's expectations and hopes; hell, he didn't even know who he really was on the bottom why did he live ?
These brats were still naive their consciousness had yet to awoke to the 30% life loss he already reflected on so much. People came, fought and fell therefore, he threw out of the window all thought of bounding – not that he considered it too long, he would be happier alone. He diverted his eyes from the ligns of youngsters, and walked wouldn't try to remember the names of these mortal creatures, for he probably wouldn't see a second time the ones crossing the boundary the Wall constituted.
You're lost at sea
Do you need me ?
Do you need directions ?
People trusted him with their lifes, and he wouldn't deceive them. Every manoeuver depended on him and of his instructions each day would have all the squadron's eyes on him, waiting for the leader to tell them how to give the humanity better chances of survival.
When Wall Maria had been crushed, the absence of the Scouting Legion had been cruelly felt. But more particurarly, among all the qualified soldiers who constituted this squad, the Lance Corporal Rivaille had been the most regretted. Him and Captain Irvin gone on the outside, the other legions were helpless, lost. The moment they had heard of the desaster, they had rushed to make it on time, knowing them - top strategist and soldier - being here meant hell for the men they left in the morning. Their return proved the leaders weren't always to succeed.
Eh, put down the gun,
What are you thinking ?
You were someone's son
He couldn't be everywhere, and take the enemy down on his own. After all, he and those people were a team, and part of his job was to train and trust his fellow soldiers. He hoped he wouldn't have remorses. This light of determination in their eyes, their best weapon, could turn out to be their greatest weakness, once defeated. Beware, guys, take care.
How many times had he seen helpless, cornered fighters taking their own lifes, when facing these hideous monsters ? How many times had recruits thoughtlessly rushed in front of these fucking things, in an attempt to play heroes ? He didn't consider the latter to be any more glorious than the other; lifes were precious, and unless absolutely necessery, he loathed sacrifices.
The taste of tears
The sting of pain
The smell of fear
The sounds of crying
And now...
A body flew into a wall, in a sound of crushed bones, and contorted a few seconds on the ground. His ears rung with the surrounding ruckus, his eyes fought against the dust blown away by the wind. Yells and screams everywhere, while his comrades rushed to a monster's side and back. Every expedition had its part of new heads new soldiers, to take the place of the fallen ones. Yet some of them managed to survive.
The first time was one of the worst, for it was often the moment the recruits realised the horror of these gruesome creatures which were called titans. Tears weren't rare blood even less. Once they were back from it, they could consider the main show to always be the same.
It didn't mean it was any better to escape such slaughters, nor did it mean the horror disappeared; on the contrary, part of the soldiers prayed whatever God watched them to end their lifes quickly, in the sole purpose of avoiding the sight of such terrible scenes and fears. In the communal rooms, rivers of tears flowed on the pillows, without anyone telling a word about it. Was speaking of any use ?
Long, long time ago
I fell to this place
From another dimension
And thrust amongst the beasts
And the way they behave borders on dementia
Focused on the daily training and on the establishment of new strategies, he didn't have time to reflect on his lost childhood. This was another world, yet the same he had grown in after all, he was already awake of the cruelty and unfairness of life : a man made for this war. The moment he was born in the streets, the one he took ahold of a 3D Manoeuver Gear and learnt to use it, the comptless times he had flied across the city, even the time Irvin had caught sight of him and beaten him badly. All these moments had converged to make him the man he was. This thought invaded his mind a split second, while he ran towards one of this distorted faces. Guess fate and madness are an item.
Now through all these years
I can barely take it
I don't think I can make it
Take me away from here
I want to go home
I'm so sick and tired
Before he realised it, he had acquired the Lance Corporal rank and embraced the « Humanity's strongest soldier » title. The last years had passed in a blur a replay of the same fights, against monsters all different yet all similar. The same goal : to eradicate the titans, to take Wall Maria back, to take the whole world back. To try to stay alive in the process.
How time flies.
He was so engrossed in the battles that he wasn't sure he still had a life aside from it. Wasn't sure he could still live after witnessing this young boy's beheading. Wasn't sure he could still live knowing that a few soldiers had been left behind, stuck in the middle of these 10 meter titans and of these two deviants.
The taste of tears
The sting of pain
The smell of fear
The sounds of crying
Hanji was far already, he couldn't hear her squeal in excitement anymore – she was unbelievably quick when there were titans on the line. He wouldn't admit it but it did have an effect on the general feeling her gone, they could only hear screams of pain, the steely sound of the cables, clashes of blades, and the occasionnal orders and resentful yells.
Fuck these things, why do they have to move ? Stay still, you little shit. From the corner of the eye, he had already spotted a man stuck in a titan's had to go fast losing time meant losing lifes. He made quick work of the remaining titans, only to hear the urgency in Petra's voice and to slide down to her.
And now as you're standing at the edge of your life
What do you remember ?
Was it all you wanted ?
Next to his comrade was lying the man from earlier – dying, no doubt. He was trying hard to convey his feelings - his last message to the Humanity – in spite of his opened torso, despite his organs trying to spill out on the muddy ground. The least he could do was to hold hard on his hand and to intently listen to his last will. It was no use praying for the medics to come quickly he, Petra, this man, they all knew the only thing they could pray for was a better life in the after world.
I'm trying to earn a set of feathery wings
I wish to protect you here
The purpose of the army was to save the civilians. Therefore, aside from being on the receiving end of some brats' admiration, it also meant that he was to take the burden of each death occurring on the battlefield, in the name of his own sanity and of the wings of Freedom. Wings that he thought turned out to be the Angel of Death's ones.
Oh please don't cry
Now smile as you're standing
At the edge of your life
Putting his hand on the corpse's eyes, he closed them, feeling the lingering warmth that already faded away. He felt the urge to do the same, even for a fraction second. Don't forget, Levi.
Your troubles are over
Mine are just beginning
Another day, another fight. He would be head of the formation wind blowing through his hair, features marked with determination, he would fly at a speed only he mastered. Awake of the skills of the men behind him, enemy's weakness in mind, he wouldn't waver before launching the attack. All around his body, tension due to the belts and wires in his grip, his needle-sharp blades. Each time, the feeling of cutting through the skin and muscles repercuted along his arms towards his shoulders and torso. He avoided spilling much blood, with clean cuts. Around him, always the same deafened sounds.
It's me you leave behind
If only I could have had been there
I'd be a hand for the sinking
If only I could have been there
I'd be a prayer for the dying
How many hands did he held as a soul was vanishing ? Dozens of soldiers would die each time, and he obviously couldn't see to every passing away the fight for reconquest was the upmost priority, and deaths were inavoidable, though Shadis trained the trainees to be up to the standards. It didn't help regrets.
He actually could have done something, had he been there. Petra wouldn't have swung the wrong way, or he could have catched her. Had he been there on time, Erd, Auruo, her – his friends -wouldn't have had to fight the deviant titan female alone. Had he been there, Mike and his men would have had the time to flee. Same for Nanaba. All was possible, when using the word « if » all was possible, when trying to avoid the rage and anger all was possible when trying to escape sadness.
See the pain etched in my face
I'm so sick and tired
Sullen and tired faces everywhere, on the horses and in the carriages another sad return. Black hair falling a bit on his face, his dark blue eyes riveted on the road ahead, seemingly indifferent to the crowd surrounding their – considerably reduced – squad. He wasn't good at letting out emotions : what seemed a blank look to the outsiders was his own way of showing he cared for the loss of his comrades. When being talked about his friend's marriage – which would never happen, confused eyes mirrored his own feeling of being lost, somewhere in the sorrow never would he feel as bad as when he had to break the news to the fallens' relatives.
It's me you leave
He was back from hell, to fall in another the barrack was empty. No one making coffee, no one biting his tongue, no one making crude jokes.
You're gone from here
No sounds.
Don't leave from here
Empty beds.
Don't leave me here
Insigns in his pocket.
I hate it here
The civilians' dark glares.
You're gone from here
The memory of their families.
Don't leave me here
Through the window, his fingers felt the freezing wind softly blowing tiny snowflakes. The city was covered in a thin, almost imperceptible, layer of crystals.
I need you here
An old scarf – this dusty thing which I always told would be the end of them – was still lying on a chair, in the wait of being used in the confection of their traditionnal snowman.
I need to see you smile
Tomorrow would probably wake up to the sight of a city entirely buried under the color white. They wouldn't be able to do manoeuvers with this weather, he could probably pass time doing it, then. He kept repeating himself that he shouldn't get involved. But as strong a soldier as he may be, he was still human. A few months, a few years, seeing everyday the same faces, relying on them to go through the day, it was impossible not to suffer suddenly not seeing, not hearing them anymore.
He knew this and yet, he always fell for the same trap, always fell for these bright personnalities, always fell for a bunch of weirdos he finally considered his family. And it was the right thing to do focus on the reasons you want to save the world. Focus on the reasons you want to live. Focus on your hopes.
« You have to form a new squad, Levi. You know it. »
Time to close the book he couldn't keep on answering with « Fuck it. » or « Later." They didn't have to time to mourn over their losses. Survival was a superior goal which necessitated to throw aside all feelings, and Irvin had mastered the art of seeming unaffected far too quickly.
Seeming, 'cause he was human too. Seeming, 'cause he probably didn't sleep anymore, hanted by the memory of his friends of his subordinates of the Ol' Good Time, when they all pulled planks in the barracks without a care for tomorrow. Seeming, saving the appearances like they all had to do in front of the crowd of outsiders.
« Please, don't let them be too stupid, then. »
Let them be stupid enough to live life at the most. Don't let them be stupid enough to have their way with my heart, then die on me.