I wrote a thing for day 1 of Levi Week, the prompt being a song that reminds you of him. This was written in an hour, in the back of my Spanish classroom as I feigned paying attention. Sorry if it's not great, but I posted it on tumblr without really going over it, and I'm too lazy to do that now.
This is based on the song I See Fire, by Ed Sheeran. Go listen to it, kids!
Sometimes, all he can see is fire.
The world is ablaze, and he is meant to take it out. Sometimes he doesn't mind. Sometimes he does.
Sometimes it makes him angry. Others, he just can't be bothered to care. He's used to it now.
Sheets burn. He watches, silent, impassive. He doesn't feel, he has long since stopped feeling. It's easier to let others do it for him. Hanji cries enough for the both of them, inside her room or the lab, deep into the night when she thinks he can't hear.
She hasn't said much since their return. Neither has he. By some unspoken agreement, they hadn't left each other's sides, and even now he stands next to her as they watch the fire.
He wonders, briefly, whose stupid idea it was to burn sheets in place of the bodies lost anyway. At least then he could imagine them flying farther and farther away, away from this hell they lived in. Now the only ashes left behind would be of some silly, irrelevant lengths of cloth that he can't take seriously, he could never take seriously.
He looks away from the flames that rise up into the night. There is a familiar darkness creeping up inside him, but he can't let it take over, not just yet. It makes him reckless, insane, sadistic. Hanji would kill him if he killed the Female Titan before she could interrogate it. He doesn't think his death would be such a bad thing, especially not if he could take that bitch with him, but he knows it would seal humanity's fate. He can almost see everything collapse, the screams of the people as their world crashes down around them. It's beautiful, really.
All he sees is fire. Inside the walls. Burning the trees. Carving out spirits. It's even in the air, the blood-soaked sheets now embers and ashes dancing as they are caught in the breeze.
He hopes the dead remember him, wherever they are.