beast

by kusuriuri

Summary:

A study of Zeke's character through moments of his life.

Zeke physically shuddered, toes curling. He loved it when they put their hands there, held him in place, like a collar, like they owned him.

"It's the daddy issues."

Chapter 1: praise me

Summary:

This fic is just me studying Zeke's character and is very self-indulgent. Canon Zeke is definitely gay-coded and I also think the only ships that make sense for him are with mob characters/original characters. He adores his little brother and probably has a disgusting crush on Levi but unfortunately it’s not mutual. Zeke is definitely a sub and a bottom. He is very fucked up also, but that's canon too so.

Warning for some homophobic and ableist slurs in this chapter.

His first sexual experience was at fourteen.

It was an older boy from mandatory warrior training, a boy who liked to bully Zeke for being weak and slow and stupid. Klaus was bigger than most of the other boys and stronger as well, in the latter half of puberty with his body filling out with muscle, while Zeke was still skinny and small.

It was after training finished and they were heading home when Klaus tripped him and shoved at him roughly behind one of the buildings, where none of the instructors could see. Magath may be strict towards Eldians, but even so, he wouldn't tolerate bullying if he saw it.

Klaus knocked his books out of his hands, and when Zeke bent down to pick them up, he pushed Zeke into the dirt as well.

"What do you need books for? You're fucking stupid anyway."

Zeke grimaced, his uniform now covered in dirt, and pushed himself back up, saying nothing. There was blood on his knees. He was used to this by now, an under-achiever in every aspect. But no reaction would bore his bullies eventually.

Klaus didn't allow him to get up, grabbing at his hair and pushing him downwards into the dirt again.

"You're dead last at running drills and at written tests too because you're a retard."

Zeke attempted to pull his hair out of his grasp, gritting his teeth. Maybe Klaus was in a bad mood today; Magath had been particularly harsh. But Klaus' grip tightened, twisting roughly, and pain shot through Zeke's skull as he cried out weakly.

Klaus wrinkled his nose at the sound, sneering at the wavy platinum strands looped through his fingers. "What's with your stupid hair anyway? You think you're a fucking prince or something?"

The blond swallowed, fighting back tears, his hands trying to pry Klaus' away from his scalp. Klaus jerked his hair roughly in response, and Zeke whimpered, biting into his own lip.

Prince. Ha. If only he knew.

"What's wrong, crybaby? You gonna cry like a fucking fag?" Klaus' expression twisted into a deeper sneer, digging his fingers in. He seemed to study the wavy strands for a short second, the softness only irritating him more. "Fucking pretty boy." The words were muttered under his breath, spit into Zeke's face, as if the thought disgusted him. "You're always crying like a fucking girl and you even look like one too."

Zeke's fingers scratched at Klaus' hand, digging into the skin. His scalp was burning. He mouthed something hoarsely, forcing his voice out.

"Huh?" Klaus jerked at his hair again. "You wanna say something, girly boy?"

"I said, I'm not a girl...!" His voice trembled, tears spilling out before he could do anything to stop them. "Let go...!"

Klaus laughed cruelly, in that way only children can, watching the tears slide down his cheeks. He seemed to search Zeke's face, as if he wasn't even sure what for. His smile dropped as Zeke just cried silently, face scrunching up helplessly.

"Yeah, you are." His voice sounded different than before, lower, but Zeke was only fourteen and didn't really know why. "You're a little girly boy."

Klaus jerked him forward by his scalp towards the front of his uniform pants and Zeke cried out, eyes opening. He scratched at Klaus' hand in his hair, looking up into his face in confusion, tears ruddying his cheeks.

Klaus' pupils were dilated, shiftily checking his surroundings before unzipping his fly.

Zeke had seen other boys' penises when changing clothes or at the public bath, but never like this. He was bigger than Zeke, a darker colour, stroking himself as he pulled himself out of his underwear.

He pulled Zeke forward by his hair and forced his head down, telling him to suck it or he would beat him up and break his arm.

So Zeke obeyed, trembling.

The tears were sliding silently down his cheeks when his mouth closed around him. He licked awkwardly, unsure of what to do, and Klaus scowled and kicked him in the side, pulling at his scalp. His other hand held Zeke's jaw firmly in place so he wouldn't move or bite down, guiding him to bob slowly up and down. Zeke was too cowardly to try something like biting, but Klaus didn't know that.

Zeke will never forget - the memory still rises in his mind occasionally even more than a decade later. The moment when Klaus cradled his jaw almost gently, and when Zeke looked up at him he heard him mumble, "S'fucking pretty," sliding his fingers over the tears on his cheeks.

Zeke felt his own cock twitch inside his pants.

Then Klaus' breath hitched and he came all over Zeke's face.

There was a silence after that, the sound of birds cawing and Klaus panting, taking a moment to collect himself. Zeke erupted into coughs as Klaus finally let go of his hair, and he keeled over, spluttering and gagging onto the dirt. He panted weakly, squinting up at Klaus and coughing again, his lips bright red and swollen.

Klaus looked alarmed, breathing heavily as he stared down at Zeke with wide eyes, at his white uniform caked with dirt and blood, his blond hair ruffled and wet with sweat, cum splattered over his angelic face.

The boy swallowed, wheezing, and fumbled with his zipper, fingers trembling. He muttered something quickly before shoving Zeke to the ground again, snatching his bag and stumbling away hurriedly, out from behind the buildings.

Zeke stayed on the ground for a little while, looking down at himself, the heavy, sick feeling sinking in. His knees and scalp were stinging and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He touched his face hesitantly, the stickiness that clung there, and he felt tears well up and lips tremble at the feeling of utter shame. He fumbled in his pocket mindlessly for his handkerchief to wipe desperately at the cum on his face.

He finally picked himself up from the ground, legs stiff, dusting off his grubby uniform awkwardly. He didn't have a mirror and he hoped he had cleaned his face properly. His grandma would scold him for his dirty uniform, so he needed to make up a story, beginning the walk home.

He pulled at the fabric over his crotch uncomfortably, toes curling in his shoes and a flush spreading over his cheeks, deciding right then that he would wash his own uniform himself.

The inside of his pants were sticky, having cum in his pants at the same moment Klaus had released on his face.

Zeke met with Ksaver about a week later as he always did, throwing the baseball back and forth.

"I think I like boys."

Ksaver blinked, looked mildly surprised and amused, adjusting his grip on the ball before throwing it back.

"Oh? Do you have a crush on someone?" Ksaver smiled easily, eyes crinkling. "A boy from training, maybe?"

Zeke's cheeks flushed pink and Ksaver chuckled. He thought of him as his own son and couldn't be happier that Zeke trusted him enough to tell him something so personal, flushing with pride. He would support and love him no matter what.

Zeke fiddled with the ball in his mitt. "He's older than me. I... I touched his..." he fumbled, pausing, embarrassed to say the words out loud. He mumbled it softly, speaking to the ground rather than Ksaver. "He used my mouth to... you know." He flushed darker, winding up and throwing the ball without looking properly. "I've never done anything like that before."

Ksaver almost tripped over his own feet as he lunged to catch the ball, eyes wide in surprise. He straightened up and rolled the baseball in his glove, adjusting his glasses. Zeke was only fourteen still. Of course, he knew children would find a way to experiment no matter what, but couldn't help but feel Zeke was much too young. He swallowed, clearing his throat awkwardly. He said he was an older boy. "Zeke... did you..." Ksaver was aware of how Zeke was treated by his peers, the bullying he received. "...He didn't make you, did he? Because that's not okay."

Zeke looked up at Ksaver, then at the wall behind him, the vines creeping up slowly as if to swallow it whole. He thought of Klaus and his strong shoulders, how he had shot up in height recently all of sudden. He thought of how it felt when Klaus cradled his jaw with his hands so warm and called him pretty, before pulling his hair, kicking him in the side and shoving him face-first into the dirt.

Zeke stared at the ground instead of at Ksaver, nails digging into his palm.

"I wanted to."

Ksaver swallowed.

He knew how starved Zeke was for attention, how hard it was for him to say no, how easy it would be for others to emotionally manipulate him. His chest felt tight, a desperate clenching that he needed to protect this fragile boy, but knowing there was only so much he could do before his 13 year lifespan was over.

So Ksaver nodded slowly, throwing the ball back to him.

At eighteen, Zeke sat up in the bed staring boredly out the window, at the ships drifting past in the harbour. He struck a match and lit his cigarette, not bothering to cover his naked form.

The muscular man next to him in bed leaned back with his hands behind his head, a twisted smile of pity on his lips.

"That was your first time? That's pretty fucked up."

Zeke snorted, blowing smoke out of his mouth. "Tell me about it."

He turned towards his bed companion, hooking a leg over his hips and climbing onto his reclined lap, taking another drag from his cigarette.

The man, Jannik, wasn't Eldian, but he wasn't Marleyan either, so he supposed that's why it didn't matter they were sleeping together, although they weren't advertising it. If they had noticed, his Marleyan superiors had never said anything. It probably also helped that Zeke wasn't a woman and there was no chance of pregnancy; of bringing a pitiful half-Eldian child to this world of pain and suffering.

Jannik was an engineer from a neighbouring nation, probably more than ten years older than him. Zeke wasn't really sure though, nor did he particularly care. He had dark hair and blue eyes, a strong body and huge dick. That was enough for Zeke.

Jannik smirked, hands on Zeke's thighs to hold him in place, eyes raving over his body. Zeke loved to be looked at like that. Like he was something to desire.

"I think it was the praise." Zeke leaned over to the nightstand where his glasses rested neatly, tapping his cigarette into the ash tray. "He called me pretty. I wasn't used to people praising me like that." He pushed a hand through his messy locks, out of his face. "I liked it."

Jannik hummed, his large, warm hands sliding between Zeke's legs, firm strokes that made his spine go taut and legs tremble. "Mmm, you would like that." He smiled, kneading Zeke's thigh with his other hand. "You should see yourself when I compliment you while fucking you. You make this face... and you cum so fast. I barely even touch you."

The blond grimaced, bringing his cigarette to his lips. "I don't think I would want to see that."

The older man chuckled, sitting up abruptly and making Zeke's eyes go wide in surprise. He balanced him with hands on his waist, kissing Zeke's neck and putting a large, warm hand around his jaw.

Zeke physically shuddered, toes curling. He loved it when they put their hands there, held him in place, like a collar, like they owned him.

"It's the daddy issues," Jannik teased, fingers reaching further back between Zeke's legs, circling languidly and pushing into the slick; warm and wet from where he had finished just minutes before.

Zeke snorted, leaning his head back and exposing his neck to the older man's teeth, the blood pulsing in his ears.

Grisha's voice calling him a good boy invaded his mind, but he shut it down quickly, moaning as Jannik's fingers found his prostate and rubbed, pushing him onto his back.

Zeke lay there, cigarette resting between his teeth, as Jannik pressed wet kisses slowly down his chest, down further to where his cock was slowly rising in interest.

At eighteen years, his dick had a mind of its own, eager for pleasure even if his brain was not. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled his forearm over his eyes, as if to hide from himself, from his own thoughts.

He moaned again as Jannik's lips closed around him, his own lips twitching into a humourless laugh.

Daddy issues.

And in his mind, Grisha laughed at him too.

Chapter 2: taint me

Summary:

Zeke remembers the day he ate Ksaver.

Notes:

This chapter is absolutely not consensual and is actually really really gross, but I think very fitting for Zeke's character. Please read at your own risk

Warning for non-con and drug use

He lost his virginity officially when he was seventeen.

It was the day he ate Ksaver and took on his memories.

His mind was clouded, the despair setting in as fragments of memories fought inside him. The people present for the ceremony were high-ranking Marleyan officials and people of noble class with ties to the military, applauding him as he stumbled from the steam. One of them was a fat, ugly old man that Zeke recognized, a rich noble who funded the Public Security Authorities and procured his fortune through bribes. He came to headquarters on occasion and witnessed the warrior candidates training.

Zeke had first met Bauer when he was seven, turning his parents in to the PSA. He sweat heavily and had fat, hairy fingers with tacky gemstone rings adorning them. His gaze had been uncomfortable, and he had placed his hands on seven-year-old Zeke in a way that made him feel wrong.

Ksaver told him to stay as far away from Bauer as possible, because he was not a nice man, and Zeke had listened. Over the years as he got older, sometimes Bauer came around to headquarters and watched them train, and Zeke could feel his eyes on him. He told Zeke he should visit his mansion, where he had food and alcohol and could ask for anything he wanted. He could get Zeke permission to leave the internment zone with him. But Zeke hated his eyes that felt like they were undressing him, despite the fact he was still a child. He would decline politely, ducking his head, because Ksaver had warned him about people like him.

But the night after he ate Ksaver, Zeke felt lost and alone. He felt like he was walking in a dream, unable to think straight, and when Bauer took him aside, away from the safety of Magath, he followed aimlessly.

Bauer bragged about his mansion as usual, told him about the expensive wine he had acquired in celebration of Zeke's inheritance. He could drink as much as he wanted, Bauer wouldn't tell anyone. He could order whatever food he wanted. It was a celebration. Zeke was such a talented boy, so loyal, such a good-looking one, he had been watching him since he was seven and knew that more than anyone.

Zeke wasn't truly listening, looking down at Bauer's fat fingers circled around his thin wrist. There was a buzzing in his ears and he couldn't think, Ksaver's memories and his own bleeding together and throbbing in his head.

And then he nodded and quietly said, okay.

Bauer's house really was a mansion, situated in the upper-class area of Liberio. He ushered Zeke into his expensive carriage and slipped the internment zone guards a bribe, informing them he would be taking Zeke for the night and would return him in the morning.

Zeke sat on the elegant red sofa in a daze, looking around at the marble statues and expensive paintings. He had never experienced such luxury before, servants and maids emerging from the curtains and bringing them plates of food and bottles of wine before disappearing again. Bauer sat next to him, too close, his hand running nauseating circles on Zeke's inner thigh. The blond kept his head down and ignored it, trying to think through the pulsing in his head and gulping down his wine.

He had never drank before, didn't know he was drinking it too fast. It tasted sweet and made his eyes droop, a flush reddening his skin and mind going hazy. Bauer kept refilling his glass.

The older man took a tiny package out from his pocket, lining up the white powdery substance on the table and snorting it up his nose. Zeke laughed at the sound, not knowing what the substance was, but feeling giddy from the wine. Bauer gestured for Zeke to do the same, stroking his hair like one would to a cat.

The blond had no idea what was happening, the alcohol buzzing through his veins. But the feel of the man's hands in his hair was gentle, petting him the way Ksaver used to. So Zeke copied as best as he could, snorting a line and sneezing, and Bauer encouraged him to do a second line as well.

His memories were not as clear from that point onwards.

He remembered Bauer pushing him down onto the soft cushions beneath him, his mind delirious. He could see shapes dancing in his vision, the room was lit by candlelight and it swam before his eyes, colours and shadows and Ksaver's memories mixing together. He felt himself smiling suddenly, but he couldn't remember why.

Bauer was panting grossly and unbuttoning Zeke's clothes, his hot breath fanning out over bare skin, making him curl inwards in confusion, unsure of what was happening. But Bauer held his limbs, pulling his clothes down and away until he was only left in his underwear. Zeke was confused, kicking out weakly in an attempt to protest, but his words came out slurred and jumbled, thick on his tongue.

Bauer stroked his hand through Zeke's hair again, soothing him, his other hand circling and pinching Zeke's nipple. "Sshhh, it's okay, be a good boy." He fondled Zeke's genitals through his underwear. "Look how wet you are."

He was. Everything felt good, like he was floating high above the clouds, far, far away from here.

He whimpered, limbs shaking. He was a good boy, he always tried to be.

He had touched the older boy, Klaus, between his legs, been coerced to suck and stroke, but he had never been touched in return. It felt weird and scary and good, his pupils dilated and head a mess.

Bauer pulled the waistband of his underwear down and off and Zeke was left completely exposed, his cock standing up in half-confusion and pleasure. The older man was licking and sucking at his nipples, dipping his hand into some kind of oil. Zeke felt dizzy, unsure of what was happening, when Bauer started stroking Zeke's member firmly. His body reacted immediately, spine arching and cock hardening completely into the pleasure.

"Such a sweet boy, such a pretty, pretty boy," Bauer told him. "Do you touch yourself here?"

Zeke couldn't think straight, eyes lidding and drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He couldn't remember what he was doing here, but he knew he was a good boy, so he answered the question asked of him.

"Yes, sir..."

Bauer groaned, pinching Zeke's nipples and circling the sticky wetness at the head of his dick. "How much? Are you a horny little boy?"

"Every..." Zeke whimpered and bit his lip, gripping the cushions beneath him and legs shaking uncontrollably. "Everyday..."

Bauer groaned again, voice breathless and thick with want. "Oh, such a naughty boy." His hand slid downwards over his balls, to his perineum, and stroked back and forth, making Zeke's breath hitch and toes curl. "You love to feel good, don't you? Such a sweet boy." Then he went further to his puckered hole and Zeke's entire body went jelly-limbed, hiccupping strangely. Bauer's voice was thick and heavy, panting with excitement as he rubbed at Zeke's hole. "So small and tight."

Zeke broke the skin of his lip with his teeth, confusion blending with pleasure and feeling delirious. He felt a sob threaten to erupt in his chest, tears welling up, and Bauer spread his legs and pushed his oil-slicked fingers inside.

Zeke couldn't breathe, his cock standing straight up against his stomach, trembling and leaking heavily, bobbing as his thighs shook. The older man was disgusting, panting heavily and too aroused to wait any longer and stretch him more than the two fingers he had inside him. He unzipped his trousers and pulled himself out, spreading Zeke's legs wider, and pushed the fat head of his member against Zeke's entrance.

It hurt, Zeke was sure it did, but the drugged-up haze in his mind dulled the pain to a steady throbbing until it hurt in a good way. Bauer started thrusting immediately; short, desperate thrusts that made Zeke hiccup and his toes curl, his cock twitching and releasing pre-come.

The older man was stroking Zeke's hair again, and he felt tears spill over, but he wasn't sure why he was crying. It felt so good and he could feel himself smiling, so why were there tears running down his cheeks?

"I bet you can come just from this, huh? Sweet boy. Without even touching you." He twisted Zeke's nipples and stroked his hair. "Such a good boy."

Zeke's eyes rolled back as Ksaver's memories flicked through his mind, his own memories blending with them. His teeth started chattering as he remembered Grisha calling him a good boy and patting his head when he was five, and his legs spread wide open started to twitch with pleasure, like he was a dog going through heat. His tongue lolled, cock bobbing, and when Bauer hit that spot, Zeke's breath caught on a sob that sounded like "Papa". He covered his face as his dick twitched and spurted white onto his stomach, hitting himself in the chin.

The feeling of ecstasy was unlike anything he had experienced and he simultaneously wanted to puke. His fingers trembled, swallowing bile at the thought of his father and for tainting his memories of Ksaver. He breathed loudly through his mouth, crying silently as he shook and tugged and pulled at his own hair.

Bauer moaned, "Oh, good boy," and Zeke blubbed and whimpered, body giving little shakes and cock spurting again, and once more. The older man kept thrusting, grip pressing bruises into Zeke's thighs, and he touched the mess of cum on his stomach, rubbing it into the boy's nipples and pressing nauseating kisses into his neck.

He made Zeke come twice more before he finally finished, deep inside. The boy was a mess of drool and come and was barely conscious, mumbling and asking for his glasses, hickies and bite marks and bruises on his skin. He passed out to the feeling of Bauer rubbing soothing circles into his scalp, his fucked up mind confusing it with Ksaver's hand, tears sliding down his cheek.

He woke up the next day feeling unbearably sore, head pounding from the alcohol and whatever the white substance was. His glasses were next to him, and he clutched them to his chest. His regenerative abilities had healed him during his sleep and as he remembered the night before, he promptly leaned over and threw up.

Bauer gave him a ride in his carriage back to the gate of the internment zone, but didn't take him further for the sake of discretion. He handed Zeke a fat envelope full of cash, promising to see him again soon, and Zeke swallowed and accepted it silently, feeling just as lost as yesterday and twice as fucked up in the head.

He didn't like to talk about it, even to bed companions like Jannik who wouldn't judge him for it. When asked about his first time, Zeke would instead talk about the rough young boy from military training who taught him how to give head. He thought it was funny, looking back on it now, in a fucked up way. But Bauer was a whole new level of fucked up, even for him. Ksaver had warned him not to go near that pervert and Zeke had gone and done it anyway. He was ashamed of it even now a decade later, and even though he had been young and was taken advantage of, he still felt he was to blame. He was a fucked up person who was asking to be hurt.

So naturally, like the fucked up person he was, he leaned in to it and asked for more.

He visited Bauer once or twice a year, each time going home with an envelope full of cash in his pocket. Zeke found it funny and ironic that this fat, stupid pervert was unknowingly funding Anti-Marleyan Volunteers and Eldian Restorationists. Bauer gave him anything he asked for. Zeke often asked for herbal drugs for his cigarettes - he liked to lace it with his tobacco. It eased the shaking in his fingers, made it easier to lie to his comrades without feeling a thing. When he smoked it he finally got some proper rest, sinking into deep sleep and escaping the terrible dreams.

Bauer also gave him harder drugs when he asked for them; at his age he now knew what the white substance was. It gave him a euphoria like nothing else and allowed him to forget everything, letting Bauer fuck him silly.

It especially took away the shame when Bauer pet his hair, made his toes curl and voice break, then cum with a choked, "Daddy."

Notes:

I swear I'm a Zeke stan, it's just that him being self-destructive and masochistic fits so well

Chapter 3: worship me

Summary:

Zeke reflects on meeting Yelena.

Ksaver told Zeke before he died to find someone he could entrust with the Founding Titan; an Eldian he could trust, who could understand his desire for a peaceful end of his people. But looking around, there was no one.

The only other Eldians physically trained and capable of inheriting a titan in the first place were the other warrior candidates, but not only were they much too young to understand, they were also loyal to Marley.

Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie and Marcel were impressive, much better than their predecessors, according to Magath. But they were preparing to be sent to Paradis within a year. Magath thought it ridiculous to send four pre-pubescent children on a mission such as this one, muttering about the stupidity of the upper brass and General Calvi. Zeke agreed. But such was the fate of Eldians. They would suffer no matter what, and Zeke hoped that they could at least die quickly instead of slowly and painfully. He didn’t expect that the four of them would make it back with the Founding Titan, but if they did, their loyalty to Marley and their families would prevent them from siding with him and his goals.

Porco and Pieck were left behind with him on Marley but they weren't any more suitable than the other four. Pieck seemed to be wary of him, almost like she could see through his fake camaraderie, could tell he was constantly lying but not sure what about. She was too smart and Zeke was careful to keep a distance, the friendly fakeness he was so used to putting on. Porco was not as perceptive, but he had a fierce loyalty to his brother and was permanently resentful for not being chosen as the Armored Titan. He didn't seem like he would be open to Zeke's plan either.

After the Paradis mission began, those left behind on Marley were shipped off to claim and conquer neighbouring nations, battle after battle on land and sea. Zeke felt like he was constantly repeating the days of fighting at war, and lying on his side on an operating table with Marleyan doctors extracting his spinal fluid. Vial after vial after vial. He regenerated quickly but that didn't make it any less painful.

The doctors called him a miracle, a 'Wonder Boy', the first Beast Titan throughout Marleyan history who had the power to control mindless titans. Almost like he was of royal blood, they said. If only they knew. Zeke kept his mouth shut, embracing the nickname.

General Calvi liked it especially. As the head in charge of the entire Marleyan military brass, he was an ignorant fool, hiding behind his newspapers instead of experiencing the horrors of war first hand. He liked Zeke, trusted him ever since he betrayed his own parents at the tender age of seven, proving his loyalty to the Motherland.

He was very fond of Zeke, and of his new nickname.

"Wonder Boy," would roll off his tongue as he thrusted the toy languidly between Zeke's legs, a riding whip sliding down his body and leaving red marks in its wake. His Wonder Boy. A phrase of ownership, just like he owned all the warriors, just like he owned all of the military brass.

Zeke would transform into his titan form when told and throw rocks and sink ships, trying not to think about how playing catch with Ksaver had been perverted into murder and a weapon of war. Apparently he saved a young female soldier named Yelena at sea, although he didn’t quite remember when or how. She approached him afterwards, impressively tall with deep-set eyes that seemed to see right through him.

She came to meet him outside, in secret, away from prying Marleyan eyes. She thanked him, but her eyes were too intense. She idolized his Beast Titan, claiming it was a messiah and would guide them to freedom. Zeke struck a match and lit a cigarette, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye and breathing out smoke.

"I would do anything for you," she said, and Zeke grimaced.

"I don't swing that way," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Neither do I," she replied calmly, smiling easily, and Zeke snorted, looking to her in surprise.

He laughed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "So what is it you want, then?"

"Whatever it is that you want. I'll help you.” Her eyes were too deep, too devoted. “I would follow you to the ends of the earth."

She was sincere, he found out.

Her handshake was firm, and though the intensity of her eyes was still too much for him, he felt she was trustworthy.

As time went on and she proved her loyalty, she became trustworthy enough to be the person he was looking for, that Ksaver had told him to look for. But she wasn't Eldian and couldn't inherit the Founding Titan even if he retrieved it. Yelena told him she was from a small country conquered by Marley, but his intuition told him that was a lie. It didn't matter to him though.

She was a natural leader, utterly ruthless, rallying soldiers together underneath him that they could trust. She delivered speeches that were so sincere, that spoke of her utter devotion to his cause.

She truly believed he would save the world and wanted to be there when it happened.

She had charisma and made women blush, had them wrapped around her finger; subservient to her, just the way she liked them. Zeke was almost jealous of her, how she seemed to be in such control of her own emotions, not relying on anyone or anything.

If only she knew that the man she worshipped was actually so weak.

She knew nothing of his past but was convinced of his future. What did she see in him that made her trust him so? What part of him looked like a god? He wondered if she saw the difference between the Beast of a Titan he transformed into and the beast of a man that stood before her now.

Zeke left General Calvi’s office one day after a particularly rough session. He pulled his coat back on, sliding his armband into place, and pulled the collar up to hide the marks on his neck. There were raw rope burns on his wrists and ankles, all over his body, darker splotches from being smacked with Calvi’s paddle.

He met up with Yelena and the other volunteers in the usual place, candlelit with papers scattered over the desk they were studying. Their group was slowly growing, different races joining together in their hate for Marley. A handsome man with dark skin was new, he had a difficult name to pronounce that rolled off the tongue.

Zeke pulled out a cigarette, studying the papers and lists of names. Yelena seemed to eye his neck distastefully, the red and purple marks that he had half-heartedly tried to hide.

She knew whose office he had just come out of and wrinkled her nose. "You could do better."

Zeke scratched the back of his head, then his ear, adjusting his glasses. He sucked in the smoke and then blew it out, smiling strainedly. Maybe sadly. "I really couldn’t.”

Zeke didn’t really see the value of human life.

It’s not that he didn’t care for people; on the contrary, he wished for there to be less suffering in the world and for there to finally be peace.

It was just that if all of existence was for nothing in the end, if we all die anyway, then what was the difference between dying now rather than later? Wouldn’t it be a relief to die sooner instead of prolonging the pain?

He found himself contemplating this when he read the notice in the newspaper that Jannik had died.

It was a small gas explosion. He and three others had not survived their injuries. And that was it.

He didn’t cry. It’s not like he was his boyfriend or anything. Jannik had picked him up at a bar when Zeke was eighteen and the sex had been so good that they kept seeing each other afterwards. It was just sex. He had been a sort of friend to Zeke, but he wondered if he could really call anyone that. He lied to everyone he met, never told anyone his deepest thoughts and dreams. Can you really call someone your friend if they don’t even know who you really are?

“Did you know him?” Yelena asked, scrutinizing the newspaper he was holding. He hadn’t turned the page for quite some time and she had noticed.

Zeke cleared his throat, shuffling the paper in his hands.

“Not really. He just fucked me a few times,” he said. “He had a great cock. Positively huge.”

Yelena wrinkled her nose in disgust and he sniggered. He liked to tease her, to test her reaction like that. He wanted to show her the true face of her god, for her to see him as the broken man he really was. There was a small and damaged, long-hidden part of him that was afraid if she did then she would leave, and then he really would be all alone.

But the thought was intrusive and he dismissed it immediately. Life was meaningless anyway and he would be dead in less than a decade. In the time he had left, it didn’t matter if he had friends, it only mattered that he had tools to aid his cause.

He was the god she believed him to be - he needed to believe it too.

He was going to save the world and Ksaver would be watching.

Notes:

Zeke and Yelena’s peculiar relationship has always fascinated me and I wish Isayama could have showed them interacting more. That’s a gay man and a lesbian trying to save the world right there. Funnily enough, Yelena was the only character Zeke didn’t lie to or betray at all, besides Ksaver. In the canon high school AU, we see that in a peaceful world they would have had the same relationship: a cult leader and his right-hand woman. So peculiar, I love it

Chapter 4: break me

Summary:

General Calvi likes to break Zeke just as Zeke likes to be broken.

Notes:

Warning for uncomfortable levels of nationalism and explicit sex

At twenty-one years of age, Zeke was promoted. It had been a year since Marcel and the others had left for the Paradis mission and they hadn’t heard anything back yet. Zeke had been taking down cities singlehandedly with his scream, destroying ships and towns by hurling rocks. He turned it into a game; a simple game of baseball where he scored points until he reached a set match. It made it easy, almost fun. It helped that he didn’t have to see the faces of the people he killed. And so he continued like that, following orders. Keeping up the farce that he was loyal to Marley, all for the sake of his plan.

He was General Calvi’s pride and joy.

He was invited to Calvi’s office one evening, as he often was. ‘Training’, Calvi called it, but he knew he was the only warrior to receive it. Zeke stood there with his legs a shoulder-width apart, hands folded behind his back. He had been ordered to strip down, and so he had, standing only in his underwear and socks.

Calvi had a metal pointer in his hand that made a sharp, whipping sound every time it cut through the air to smack against his palm. He was dressed in full uniform, boots loud on the wooden floor behind Zeke as he paced back and forth slowly.

Zeke clenched his fists behind his back, swallowing.

Calvi was in his forties, authoritative, with deep-set eyes that eyed Zeke up and down. "Wonder Boy Zeke...” He was the one who promoted Zeke and also the one who called him in for ‘Training’. It was a farce, an excuse to break him, as he was so fond to do. “Turning in your parents fourteen years ago and working your way up through the warrior program. Following every order. Such a pure display of loyalty to your nation."

His boots squeaked, turning towards Zeke and moving to stand in front of him. His eyes slid down the young man’s bare form in a way that made Zeke swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing.

The blond kept his gaze low, below Calvi’s eyes. An Eldian meeting their superior’s eyes could be taken as a sign of rebellion and disrespect. A race of devils, they were expected to stand below the rest.

Calvi drew his long, metal pointer towards the blond, touching his cheek before dragging it slowly down his neck and collarbone, tortuously slowly over his nipple. Zeke shivered.

“Tell me. I want to hear it from your mouth. Where do your loyalties lie?” Calvi’s voice was firm, eyes raking down his bare skin. “Zeke.” The metal tip of his pointer continued down, over Zeke’s flat stomach that rose and fell with his breaths, to his white underwear, stopping at the modest bulge.

Zeke swallowed, opening his mouth. "I, Zeke Jaege-..." He almost bit his tongue, tripping over his words and brows furrowing as Calvi applied slight pressure to his groin. It was a sharp pain, the device pointed and made of steel. "I..-wish to be freed... from the dirty bloodline of Ymir... and pledge my life-..."

Calvi started circling his bulge, lifting the weight of it and letting it down again, a delicious pressure on and off. Zeke felt his cock moisten inside his underwear. His knees shook lightly, gritting his teeth. He was not loyal to Marley, and yet pretending he was made him hard. The words came easily, the country’s education and Grisha’s brainwashing had stuck despite himself, even as he drowned himself in books in an attempt to undo it.

"M... my life and those of my family to the Great Nation of Marley."

“Your family?” Calvi circled the growing erection, the moistness that had started to gather on the fabric. ”...And your parents?”

Zeke breathed heavily through his nose, shivering. “I renounced my father and mother of the Eldian Restorationists, all for my beloved Marley.”

Calvi nodded, tilting his head. “And as an Honorary Marleyan, who do you work so hard for?” He slid the pointer upwards, dragging, hooking it into the waistband of the young man’s white underwear. “Your grandparents?” He tugged it down, just enough, so the tip of Zeke’s penis poked out, pink and flushed and glistening wet. “Or for your country?”

“I-” Zeke’s voice shook, struggling to stay in place and nails digging into his palms behind his back. “I-I am proud to be an Honorary Marleyan-...” His voice broke as Calvi pressed the cold metal to his cock, sliding up and down. “And to b-be...” His breath hitched, toes curling in his socks. “T-to be given the opportunity to display m-my... loyalty to the motherland.”

His dick was leaking onto Calvi’s pointer, but the older man kept sliding it up and down, stroking him with it and sending sharp little shivers through his body.

“Why?” Calvi’s eyes bored into him hungrily, his strokes not stopping.

Zeke’s breath came out in gasps and he tried to suppress them by biting his lips. His hips kept hitching, like he was confused about whether he wanted to get away or arch further into the pleasure. He frowned, head cloudy and confused about what Calvi was asking. His loyalty to Marley was a lie. But he liked this pleasure that being loyal to Marley provided him. “I-I wish to prove my... loyalty to Marley.”

“And? What else.” The pointer dipped further inside his underwear, stroking down all the way to his balls and then back up again, down and up. Down and up.

“A-a-atone... for the sins of Eldia.”

Calvi dragged it back up and began circling the tip of Zeke’s leaking cock. “And how will you do that?”

“I will...” Zeke stopped his hips from bucking, his erection releasing another glob of pre-come. “Pledge...” He could barely breathe, his knees shaking uncontrollably from the stimulation that was both not enough and too much. “My life and fight for the motherland...!”

Calvi drew his eyebrows together, looking at him with pity and pulling the pointer away from the young man’s member, a string of pre-come connecting them. “That’s not enough, my beloved Wonder Boy.”

Zeke stumbled forward slightly as the stimulation left, righting himself back to the proper posture immediately. His body trembled and he chewed his lip, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat that glowed in the candlelight. Calvi circled back around him so that Zeke could no longer see him, so all he could hear was his footsteps.

Calvi’s voice came from behind him. “Go bend over my desk. And stick out your ass.”

Zeke swallowed and followed the order.

Calvi’s desk was a few steps in front of him, wide and a dark mahogany. The blond approached it on shaky legs, bending over it obediently. He buried his face in his arms, pulling his sweaty locks away from his eyes.

He heard Calvi’s steps coming up behind him and felt the older man hook his gloved fingers into Zeke’s underwear, pulling them down to his knees. He left them there, halfway down his legs along with his socks, and heard Calvi chuckle lowly.

“They’re soaked. Did pledging your loyalties to your country make you wet?”

Zeke flushed darkly, all the way to his neck and ears. He hated how much he loved the humiliation. He wasn’t loyal to Marley. But he loved this.

The gloves Calvi was wearing were a soft, expensive leather, stroking Zeke’s backside smoothly and humming deeply. The blond’s skin was unmarred, a perfect plumpness, and he rubbed his skin slowly, sensuously.

“Spread your legs wider. So I can see.”

Zeke suppressed a hitched moan, biting his lip, and did as he was told.

He spread his knees further apart, trying to ignore how much they were shaking. His dick was still untouched, leaking between his legs onto the wooden floor.

Calvi hummed appreciatively at the sight, taking a step back to look at him. He ran the metal head of his pointer up the inside of Zeke’s thigh, pressing up against his balls for a tortuously long moment. He dragged it further up, between his cheeks, swiping along his hole, and Zeke moaned.

The older man watched Zeke’s hips circling, trying to rub the wet tip of his erection against the hard wood of the desk. Calvi frowned, disapproving.

Zeke felt the touch of metal leave him for a moment, and he panted in anticipation as he waited, thighs trembling. The touch came back all of a sudden as Calvi lashed him three times across the meat of his ass, three quick strikes in succession that made Zeke’s spine go taut and breath choke in his throat. The burning feeling creeped up, blooming steadily into a searing pain that had him gasping. His eyes watered as he panted, gritting his teeth at that satisfying and familiar burn.

The blond’s skin reddened, bright red welts rising in sharp lines where the metal had hit him. The soft leather of Calvi’s gloves smoothed over them, the disparity between pain and pleasure making Zeke drool and toes curl. He panted hotly, cock bobbing between his legs, and Calvi shushed him and stroked his backside where it was burning hot and red.

The soft touch left him again and Zeke found himself arching for it, his body unconsciously asking for it back. He heard Calvi’s footsteps retreat, stepping back away from him. His voice cut through the dimly lit room.

“Hold yourself open.”

Zeke whimpered, hands shaking as he did as he was told, reaching his hands back and pulling his cheeks apart, exposing his most intimate place to his superior.

The wait was absolute torture. Zeke struggled to breathe evenly, flushed darkly as he waited, hearing Calvi sigh lowly and admire the lewd sight. His heavy footsteps approached again, his gloved hands smoothing down Zeke’s spine, dragging over the individual ridges, over the sheen of sweat that had gathered on his skin. He glided further down, between his cheeks, over his hole, and Zeke clenched unintentionally.

Calvi chuckled and Zeke swallowed thickly, when all of a sudden the metal pointer came down again, this time right on his puckered hole. Three quick slaps of metal right on his entrance and Zeke couldn’t stop his loud groan, the way his toes and fingers curled and eyes rolled back in his head. There was a pause and then the pain erupted, delicious and searing hot, right in that intimate place and bringing tears to Zeke’s eyes.

Calvi chuckled fondly, looking down at Zeke’s hole clenching around nothing. “Mm, you’re twitching. You like that, don’t you?”

Zeke head fell to the desk beneath him, pressing his forehead against it. He managed a weak moan of, “Yes, sir,” drooling onto the wood, glasses askew on his sweaty face. He liked being loyal to Marley. He had to remind himself he was just pretending.

Calvi stroked Zeke’s backside gently, a harsh disparity against the burning sharp pain from a moment before. “I’m sure you want something more. It looks like you do.”

The blond heard a drawer open and the sound of something wet, and then Calvi’s gloved fingers were spreading a thick oil over his twitching hole. It was cold and Zeke’s spine went taut with a choked cry, body curling away automatically, but Calvi smoothed over his spine soothingly with his other hand.

He rubbed the oil in with thick, slow circles, warming it up with Zeke’s own body heat in his most intimate place. Zeke’s body wracked with shivers, still holding himself open onto Calvi’s thick fingers rubbing and rubbing and rubbing. It felt so good, easing inside him and stretching, massaging away the sharp pain from metal slaps moments before.

“Would you like something else?” Calvi found Zeke’s prostate easily from memory, pressed his fingers firmly into it, a steady push and release, and the blond’s knees shook violently, dick dripping a puddle onto the floor beneath him. “You would, wouldn’t you.”

The blond’s voice was hoarse but he forced it out, hair sticking to his forehead. “Yes, sir.”

The older man sounded pleased. “Look at you. So obedient.” He reached for something else from the drawer. “Following my every order. My perfect Wonder Boy.”

Zeke panted hotly, moaning loudly as he felt Calvi push an object inside him instead of his fingers. It was small and wide with lots of bumps, and Zeke clenched around it, the oil allowing it to slide in. It made a lewd squelching sound and Zeke bit his lips, shaking. It stretched his insides and made his toes curl, the bumpy ridges rubbing up into places that made him feel so good.

Calvi smoothed a leather gloved-hand down his spine again, his voice low and thick. “Who are you loyal to?”

He wasn’t loyal to Marley. But the pleasure was so good. Zeke rolled his head to the side, his face pressing against the wood of the desk and shining with sweat. “M-Marley, sir.”

Calvi pushed his fingers inside him, thrusting the toy in and out with a loud squelching sound. “Who will you fight for?” His other hand brought the metal pointer down onto Zeke’s ass with a loud whack.

Zeke jolted harshly, mind going blank. He wasn’t loyal to Marley. Was he? “M...:” He choked on his breath, eyelids flickering and a lump in his throat. “Marley...!”

Another slap, harder, the pain blooming in sharp bursts. “Who will you die for?”

Zeke cried out, the toy pressing harshly into his prostate and making his cock twitch in time with the thrusts. Was he loyal to Marley? He couldn’t remember. “M-...Mar...Marley...!”

The older man leaned over his body, mouthing into his sweaty neck. He reached between Zeke’s legs and grasped his erection, flushed dark and leaking, and the friction from leather on his swollen member made the blond choke and eyes roll back in his head. “Who do you belong to, Zeke?”

Calvi stroked him forcefully, almost painfully hard, long, firm strokes from base to tip. “M-Marley...!” Zeke gasped, as the older man coaxed him and squeezed, forcing the orgasm from him, and the blond’s legs spasmed, vision going blank. He shuddered uncontrollably and spurted all over the wooden desk. “I belong to Marley...!” His legs shook terribly, drool running down his chin, and the older man just continued stroking him, not stopping or slowing, forcing him to give more. Zeke was sure he didn’t have anymore, whimpering incoherently, but Calvi pressed the toy harder up against his prostate and kept stroking until Zeke twitched and spilled some more. He was overstimulated and delirious when Calvi finally let go, pulling the toy out with a wet squelch, and Zeke collapsed onto his knees, entire body trembling.

Calvi forced Zeke to look up at him with a firm hand on the back of his neck, and Zeke reacted to the authority, turning to look at him, sitting in a pool of his own cum.

“Mmm...” The older man hummed approvingly, kneeling down to his level. “Now what do you say?”

“H...” Zeke panted, eyes lidded, sweaty locks sticking to his forehead and soft member a wet mess in his lap. “Hail Marley.”

“My beloved Wonder Boy,” Calvi smiled, pleased. “I’ve never doubted you for a second.”

Long Live Marley. At least for today.

Notes:

I love that Isayama probably based General Calvi’s design off Mads Mikkelsen. Very spicy

Chapter 5: threaten me

Summary:

Zeke manipulates soldiers around him and arrives on Paradis.

At twenty-three years of age Zeke felt much too familiar with war. His Beast Titan was Marley’s strongest offence and with Pieck’s Cart Titan and Panzer Unit as a support, they defended Marley against the country’s countless enemies. Along with Porco, the three of them shared an understanding, being the only warriors left behind. They sat and ate lunch together away from the Marleyan soldiers who belittled them and looked at them with contempt, just for being Eldian devils. Porco would scoff at the sneers and keep his head held high and Pieck would laugh and brush it off, because her Panzer Unit and Magath had shown her that not all Marleyans were necessarily bad.

They brought the food and Zeke brought the coffee, but he always seemed to burn his tongue no matter how many times he drank it. Pieck would glance down at the rope burns and bruises on his wrist curiously, giving him a look like she knew. But she was smart enough to know not to comment. Zeke winced, pulling his sleeve down to cover them with Porco oblivious as usual. She was too perceptive, as expected of Pieck.

There were new promising warrior candidates that year, in particular, a tiny blond boy named Colt Grice. Zeke was alarmed the first time he saw him. Zeke’s grandparents and he were all-too familiar with the Grice family, the boy’s uncle having been exiled; sent to Paradis along with Grisha and Dina. Colt was only ten years old and yet he was repenting for his uncle’s crimes by pledging his life to Marley.

Zeke pitied him. He thought it was horribly cruel. It would have been better for the boy to have never been born, at least then he wouldn’t have to suffer like that. But Colt was cheerful and determined despite his family’s pressures and would chirp a loud, “Hello, Mr Zeke!” every time he saw him at headquarters.

Zeke felt almost like a big brother to Porco and Pieck and the bright little warrior candidate Colt. He scowled into his cigarette, feeling conflicted about the whole thing. It was not part of his plans to become fond and he made a conscious effort to not get too attached. It would just make things harder in the end.

Zeke was twenty-four when he started to get restless. Four years had passed since the Paradis mission to retake the Founding Titan began and still there was no information from Marcel and the others. It was possible that they were all dead. Zeke had only six years left of his lifespan and he was starting to think he needed to make a move of some kind. He was running out of time.

Lately he had started to grow out his beard, his hair also getting longer in the back. The facial hair made him look older than he really was and Zeke thought it was funny, looking at himself in the mirror. Like a beast. He wasn’t conscious of the fact, or perhaps he was, that he was looking more and more like Grisha each day.

He started to bring ideas into meetings with General Calvi and Magath and the other high-ranking officers. A re-con mission, he proposed. Invade Paradis Island and observe the enemy’s offences. They could send a small group in and launch an experimental attack. Any information on the state of the Founding Titan and the Armored, Colossal, Female and Jaw Titans would be a plus.

Calvi stroked his chin in thought, complimented Zeke’s determination and wit. “Very well, we begin the plans for re-con on Paradis Island within a year.”

Magath didn’t look as pleased, eyeing Zeke suspiciously.

Zeke was glad he had been careful to build Calvi’s trust over the years and pulled his collar up to cover the marks on his neck.

Zeke was twenty-five when the re-con mission came to fruition. He spent weeks in preparation before they left, having his spinal fluid extracted and turned into a gas by the research society. The Cart Titan was to accompany him and a regiment of Marleyan soldiers. Pieck’s long-distance scouting and her ability to stay in her titan form for months at a time was ideal; she would carry their supplies on her back.

And so they departed Marley in a ship and Zeke saw the harbour of Paradis Island for the first time. It occurred to him that this was the place where Grisha had been taken to and titanized, the despair he and Dina must have felt after being betrayed by their own seven-year-old son. Zeke tried not to think about it, focused on the task at hand, but he found that his hands were shaking when he lit a cigarette, breaking the match by accident. He scoffed bitterly, stamping the cigarette under his boot.

They trekked to the first wall in about five hours, what they had been told was called Wall Maria, and it was Zeke’s role to divert any mindless titans away from them with his ability. They reached the second, Wall Rose, and immediately found the first village they could. He would later find out it was called Ragako Village. The Marleyan soldiers adorned masks and released the gas with his spinal fluid in it, and Zeke felt pity for the villagers. They transformed into mindless titans at the sound of his scream and he ordered them to find the nearest humans away from there.

Pieck seemed to notice his strange mood. He couldn’t seem to shake it ever since he laid foot on the island. But as expected of Pieck, she was smart enough not to say anything and the Marleyan soldiers instructed them that they were to set up camp. They found an abandoned castle near the wall with an old sign reading ‘Utgard Castle’ in an Eldian dialect different to theirs.

They took some of the crates of supplies off Pieck’s back, water and alcohol and cans of herring for the soldiers. Pieck was ordered to scout the area as usual, so the soldiers could observe and report the enemy’s retaliation back to Marley. Zeke was ordered to control any mindless titans, making sure they didn’t come near the castle. Zeke was thankful for the opportunity, this rare chance to move freely, and so he did, to observe this island for himself.

They had been briefed by Marley before leaving - Subjects of Ymir spoke the same Eldian language as them, albeit with an accent. What they hadn’t known was that the Subjects of Ymir were capable of fighting titans. They flew around on wires and used swords to cut their napes. Zeke was intrigued. He watched a soldier fight desperately for his life and Zeke approached him, asking politely what the thing around his waist was called.

The soldier was terrified of him and Zeke suddenly felt very silly, scratching his ear. Of course. Normally titans didn’t talk and he must have looked like a god of some sort, or perhaps a devil, to the soldier. Zeke stole the mechanical device used to fly around and cradled it in his large hand, listening to the soldier’s screams of fear behind him. He was clinging to life, struggling against the throes of death and Zeke couldn’t understand why. Life was meaningless and he felt pity for the soldier who fought so desperately for nothing. Death should be a relief. It was better this way.

“I don’t know what you were doing while you went off on your own earlier, but I know it was something. Eldian devils can’t be trusted.”

A Marleyan soldier approached him back at their base at Utgard Castle, cornering him in one of the dark hallways.

Zeke smiled easily, rolling his neck and scratching the back of his head. The careless attitude he had perfected over the years.

Well, shit. He thought he had been discreet.

“Not sure what you mean,” Zeke replied lightly. There was no way for this low-ranking officer to know anything about Zeke’s plan or his true goals, but he supposed by being Eldian he was suspicious by default.

The soldier looked at him with contempt. “The Generals are fools for trusting you. You might be strong as the Beast Titan, I’ll give you that. But you spread your legs for them like a dirty whore and they treat you as if you’re not a devil.”

“Well, that’s just mean.” Zeke pulled his eyebrows together, feigning offence. “I actually bathe quite regularly.”

The soldier’s frown deepened, twisting darkly. “I should report you.”

“Come on, now...” Zeke tutted softly, sighing. “I haven’t even done anything.” He hadn’t, really. All he had done was stolen a mechanical device to study for himself. It wouldn’t be the worst thing if this man reported him and it was found out. But Zeke was in a strange mood since arriving on the island and would prefer not to attract suspicion, no matter how small. Besides, the soldier was handsome, and Zeke adored it when handsome men looked at him with disgust. “I could make it worth your while."

The soldier’s eyes widened minutely, but Zeke noticed, lips twitching upwards. The man’s eyes dropped to Zeke’s feet then roamed back up again. His mouth opened then quickly closed again as he frowned deeply, seeming to mull it over. Soldiers rarely got any kind of release when on missions, celibacy for months at a time being the norm. His mouth twisted into a grimace, throwing a quick glance down the hallway, at the flickering light in the distance where the other soldiers were gathered. He looked back to Zeke who was smiling at him expectantly. "...Fine. Make it quick, though."

Zeke grinned, feeling victorious and dropping to his knees immediately. He loved it when prim and proper soldiers like this one succumbed to their basic instincts, it made him horny like nothing else. He removed his glasses, placing them in his pocket.

The soldier leaned back against the wall, undoing his pants quietly and Zeke licked his lips when he pulled himself out. It was bigger than he was expecting.

"Thanks for the meal," he sang sarcastically, leaning in and opening his mouth, but the soldier stopped him with a rough tug in his hair that made Zeke wince.

"No teeth. Or you're done."

Zeke gave him a mock-salute. "Yes, sir."

He started by licking all over from the base to the tip, coaxing it into full hardness. He used his hand to stroke slowly along with his tongue, a steady wet pull, up and down. The soldier panted above him, knocking his head back against the wall. Clearly it had been a while for him and Zeke grinned, confident in his own skills. Zeke closed his mouth around him, covering his teeth with his lips, and swallowed him down. He pushed his nose into the soldier’s pubes, closing his eyes and humming lowly in his throat, sending vibrations through the man’s body. He swallowed around him and heard the man’s breath hitch as he grabbed Zeke’s hair roughly.

“Fuck.”

Zeke smirked around the man’s erection, starting to bob his head up and down. He kept his pace slow, sensual, drooling around the man’s dick and using his saliva as lube. The wet sounds were loud in the echoing castle and positively lewd, and he used his tongue to drag along the underside, applying pressure and warm, wet suction by hollowing his cheeks. The soldier was panting heavily, thighs twitching unintentionally, leaking copious amount of pre-come onto his tongue. Zeke swallowed it eagerly, the taste salty and familiar and making his own cock harden and moisten inside his pants.

He rubbed himself with his palm casually, just a little to take the edge off, but the soldier noticed him do it. He looked down at the blond, disgusted, and used his boot to step down on Zeke’s crotch.

The blond’s eyes shot open immediately, whimpering muffledly around the man’s dick. But the soldier kept his hand in Zeke’s hair so he wouldn’t move and pressed his boot down harder, applying pressure. It hurt, in a delicious, burning way, and Zeke’s eyes started to water, drool running down his chin and into his beard.

He choked wetly, not able to breathe around the dick stuffed down his throat and the man’s boot grinded down again on his groin. Zeke moaned pathetically and swallowed around his cock again, deep-throating it and panting through his nose. He swallowed again and again as the man held his head there forcefully, and Zeke heard him groan and curse, gripping his head close like he was an object to fuck into. He didn’t warn Zeke, just jutted his hips forward making him choke, and came down his throat with a muffled moan.

The blond swallowed most of it down, throat bobbing as the soldier’s hips twitched. When he finally finished and let Zeke go, the blond gasped for air desperately, spluttering wetly and coughing onto the stone floor. He panted, his eyes looking pink, squinting up at the man and sniffing through his blocked nose.

The soldier was breathing heavily, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he looked down at the hardness between Zeke’s legs. "Eldian devil," he spat. "Fucking whore." He pulled his pants up, tucking himself back in and already beginning to walk away.

"Thanks, love you too," Zeke replied automatically, chewing on the nail of his thumb. He rested on the balls of his feet, mind elsewhere and staring into the darkened room absently. He coughed and sniffed once more, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His knees popped as he stood up, and he looked down at his crotch with a light frown, palming himself casually. He supposed he could rub one out, he didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate properly if he left it like that anyway.

So he unzipped his pants and stroked himself quickly in the corner of that darkened hallway, thinking of the burn as the soldier grinded his boot and looked at him with such contempt, using his throat as a cock-sleeve. He groaned quietly, spilling onto the stone wall and swallowing thickly, before zipping himself back up.

The soldier didn’t report him and Zeke was thankful for that. He glared at Zeke from across the room as all the Marleyan soldiers settled down to eat their rations. Zeke made sure to lick his banana while making eye contact with the soldier, and Officer Koslow made a disgusted face at him and told him to eat his fucking food like a normal person.

There was a report from Pieck that she had seen enemy combatants approaching, and so they left Utgard Castle in a rush, leaving behind much of their supplies. Zeke was sad he didn’t get to finish his banana.

He transformed into his Beast Titan and stayed behind to observe the enemy and throw rocks their way, hoping it would be a signal for the owner of the Founding or the four warriors. And then he returned to the ship to wait.

The signal worked.

It turned out that Reiner and Bertholdt were alive, Marcel was dead and Annie’s status was unknown. Reiner and Bertholdt had brought a young girl with them who had stolen the Jaw and had much information to share from the years they had lived inside the walls, including about the Founding Titan.

Especially about the Founding Titan.

“Eren... Jaeger?”

Those two words were like a light in the darkness and for the first time ever, Zeke felt hope.

Notes:

I’m sorry that Zeke is such a whore but that’s just how I see him

Chapter 6: punish me

Summary:

Zeke is unsuccessful at retrieving Eren and is punished for his failure.

Notes:

Warning for explicit descriptions of sexual urethral sounding

Zeke was made aware that Grisha hadn't died eighteen years ago when he was sent to Paradis. Instead he had made a new life for himself inside the walls.

As soon as Zeke got back to his room, he immediately stumbled over to the bathroom and lurched over the toilet, retching out the contents of his stomach. He barely made it in time, clutching the toilet rim and panted and retched again.

Grisha had created a second family, a beautiful new wife and son.

Marleyan soldiers were present when Reiner and Bertholdt reported this information about Eren Jaeger, and Zeke knew that the military would soon be made aware of the fate of Grisha Jaeger, enemy to the Great Nation of Marley.

Zeke's hands were clammy as he clung to the toilet bowl, his skin covered in sweat and hair sticking to his forehead.

Grisha had clearly used the Attack Titan and stole the Founding from the king within the walls before feeding himself to his young son.

Zeke had barely listened to the rest of the report, head feeling hot and hazy with a loud ringing steadily rising in his ears. His hands had shook and he excused himself to his room at the back of the ship. The realization that Grisha had kept living after Zeke’s betrayal had his traumas coming back up, the nausea he constantly experienced as a child. The expectations and the crippling anxiety, creeping up and swallowing him whole when Grisha would look at him with those eyes of disappointment. The uncontrollable shaking, the panic attacks; he had been too young to recognize his own parents were brainwashing him, brainwashing that he still struggled with to this day. The yelling and screaming, loud noises and slamming of hands on the table, and Zeke’s younger self could do nothing but whimper and cry, hiding beneath his bed sheets.

Zeke's fingers trembled horribly as it all came back, and he ripped his glasses away from his face, wiping it with his arm and heaving, nothing left in his stomach to bring up.

Eren Jaeger was his baby brother and had suffered at the hands of Grisha, just as he had.

Zeke clutched at his head and gritted his teeth, chest heaving as his body shook violently and wiping the drool and tears that had gathered on his face.

His baby brother. He needed to save him.

Zeke had the title of Warchief now, standing above the other warriors and had the authority to order them to prioritize the Founding. To prioritize retrieving Eren.

They would wait at the area known as Shiganshina District for the island devils to come to them and Pieck's Cart Titan would be their look-out and supplies. Pieck was genuinely mourning Marcel, seemed upset about Annie's unknown whereabouts, but still nodded and followed orders. Reiner and Bertholdt protested, wanting to return to save Annie, but Zeke subdued them. He threatened to feed their titans to more suitable candidates and even surprised himself with his ruthlessness. But Eren was his little brother and he finally had a lead. He wouldn’t let it get away.

The island devils came as planned and Zeke did as he always did: he turned murder and war into a game for himself to enjoy. But these devils were different to the soldiers he had killed in the past throughout the years. They charged straight for him, knowingly to their deaths, and Zeke was left confused as they approached him.

He later found out that he killed their blond Commander, a handsome man of intelligence and dignity. He killed the new recruits who had just joined and injured veterans alike; they were all the same, charging towards him to their terrible fates.

They were repeating the mistakes of the past, fooling themselves into thinking they were dying proud deaths and Zeke couldn't understand it. Life had no meaning and neither did death; humans were simply lumps of meat, ugly and twisting and struggling desperately to survive for absolutely no reason at all. What was the point of fighting if they all ended up dead in the end? Why not just accept and succumb?

Zeke shocked himself with how angry he was, how similar to his father he had become, accidentally crushing rocks into dust within his fist. He swallowed and looked down at himself, forced his shaking lips into a fake, carefree smile.

It was all just a game.

He was nothing like Grisha.

He wasn't.

He wasn't.

He told himself this over and over, repeated the mantra, and returned the island devils into lumps of meat.

He had gotten too confident. He should have known that turning murder and war into a game was conceited, but it was a way for him to cope, for him to compartmentalize.

He hadn't even noticed the tiny soldier until he was right on top of him.

The soldier known as Levi destroyed him. He forced Zeke out of his titan, slicing off his limbs and almost decapitating him. It was so quick that the pain didn't even register, all he knew was that he was staring up at a demon in the form of a man. It traumatized him, he realized afterwards.

And then Eren Jaeger was there in front of him.

Eren didn't look like Grisha. That was the first thing that slipped from his mouth.

Zeke's chest felt tight, his features softening in surprise as steam rose from his body as it healed. Eren was just a boy, a whole ten years younger than him. He was smaller than he had imagined with a round, young face. Zeke ignored the rage behind Eren’s eyes, denied the intensity that lay beyond his stare. He was just a boy. His baby brother.

Zeke spoke from his heart when he told Eren that he understood him; understood what their father had done to them. He all but begged him to believe his words were the truth and he had never in his life been more sincere than the moment when he promised Eren he would save him.

The soldier called Levi followed him over the wall and when Zeke looked up at him, all he could see was a monster.

It was only after he had escaped with Reiner and abandoned Bertholdt, that Zeke realized talking to Eren had been the first time he had ever told the truth.

The mission was a failure. Not only had they failed to retrieve the Founding but they lost the Colossal on top of that. There were talks of feeding Reiner to someone else unless he could prove his loyalty to Marley somehow in battle. As the Warchief older than the other warriors, the blame was placed on Zeke as well and he took responsibility for the failure.

General Calvi was ruthless.

“Seems I have to remind you of your place.”

He didn’t seem to doubt Zeke’s loyalty but punishment was warranted for his failure all the same. Calvi was proud of the rope burns that he constantly left behind on Zeke’s wrists and ankles, and would order him to prevent his regenerative abilities from healing them. But the marks had disappeared in the month that he had been away on the island, his limbs having been cut off and regenerated again.

Calvi tutted disapprovingly. The marks were supposed to be a reminder of who he belonged to, an objectification so he remembered his status as a lowly Eldian devil.

"We'll have to make new ones then, won't we."

He was ordered to lay on his back on Calvi's desk. His thin white shirt was open and he kept it on along with his socks, but his glasses and the rest of his clothes he stripped off, laying back stiffly on the hard wooden desk. His member was soft between his legs and Calvi drew Zeke’s arms up and tied his wrists tightly with the usual rope. He tugged them harshly, too tight, so they cut into his skin and rubbed them raw. Zeke barely flinched at the familiar burn.

Calvi pulled from his drawer a small black leather box with thin metal rods lined up neatly inside. He wore his leather gloves as always; never touched Zeke with his bare hands. He poured oil onto Zeke's soft member and wrapped his hand around him, beginning to stroke him firmly, coaxing him into hardness.

Zeke's brows furrowed and his legs hitched, his body reacting immediately. His cock began to harden from the steady, wet strokes, the sound of it lewd in the silent office. Shlick, shlick, shlick. It only took a few firm strokes for him to become half-erect and Calvi reached for one of the metal rods, a long, thin one that had a ribbing effect, covered in small ridges from top to bottom.

Zeke's breath caught in his throat when he realized what it was used for, body unconsciously trying to turn away. But Calvi held him in place with an authoritative hand and eyes that told him to know your place. Calvi smeared some of the oil into the slit of Zeke’s penis before inserting the nub of the metal sounding rod inside. Gravity allowed it to fall a little and Zeke’s breath hitched at the sensation of it entering him.

Calvi smoothed his leather gloves over the meat of Zeke’s thigh, holding them open with a strong hand. He paused for a moment, letting Zeke’s breathing regulate again and then continued inserting the rod. He guided it down Zeke’s urethra, tortuously slow, letting it slide in with its own weight deeper and deeper inside. With his other hand he squeezed and stroked Zeke’s cock, guiding it up and over the metal rod.

Zeke’s breaths were short hiccups in his chest, caught in his throat and his fingers and toes kept curling and uncurling again, scrabbling at the wooden desk below him. His nipples perked with sensitivity, at the feeling of cold, bumpy metal sliding down into a place that shouldn’t be touched. It almost felt like he needed to urinate, the head of his penis swollen and red, flushing with blood and Calvi kept squeezing his shaft, stroking it upwards as the rod fell deeper, finally reaching the base.

Calvi sighed lowly, admiring the sight. Zeke was struggling to keep his legs open, thighs shaking as he kept his head down, eyes glazed over and unseeing. The older man grasped the top of the rod, pulling it slightly upwards, the ridges appearing one by one. And then he pushed it back down again and the ridges disappeared inside. He repeated the motion, dragging it intentionally slowly, upwards then down again. Up and down. Up and down. Zeke was making these little noises, soft grunts and moans and teeth chattering, that he tried to suppress by biting down on his lips, his legs twitching unintentionally.

Calvi enjoyed the erotic sight, the way Zeke’s slit would drag and move up and over a few ridges each time before sliding back down. As though it was trying to swallow it. It was cute and Calvi chuckled lowly. He added more oil and used his other hand to continue stroking Zeke’s shaft; wet, thick strokes as he squeezed, sliding over the head and down all the way to the base. Timing it with the dragging thrusts of the metal rod.

Zeke couldn’t breathe, mind hazy, teeth clenching and chattering, feeling a heavy throbbing in his penis and balls. He could feel every individual ridge on the metal rod, like it was rubbing him raw on the inside. His body arched again, hips thrusting helplessly as Calvi slid it up and then down again. Zeke spread his legs more and bent them at the knee, wrists pulling at the ropes tied around them.

“I should take a picture,” Calvi told him. “So you can see yourself and be reminded of your place.” His voice was low, threatening. “You're incredibly fortunate there aren't any warrior candidates ready to replace you as the Beast Titan. Being an Honorary Marleyan is a privilege, not a right. I’ve been too soft on you. Failure is not to be tolerated.”

Pre-come was dribbling out of the tip of Zeke’s dick and around the metal rod, and Calvi just kept rubbing and thrusting it in and out. The more he rubbed the more his dick would throb and the more it would drool. He could feel the rod throughout his entire shaft, body strung tight and hyper-aware of the sensations, rubbing up against the walls of his urethra. It felt like it was reaching his balls every time it slid down, long enough to reach the other side and stimulate his prostate. Zeke kept gasping and writhing and spreading his legs and trying to close them again. His pulse was loud in his ears and his dick was pounding, throbbing around the piece of metal forced inside it. So much blood was gathering in his genitals and it wouldn’t stop drooling, mind foggy and eyes rolling in his head.

Calvi’s other hand stopped stroking his shaft and instead slid downwards, pulling Zeke’s ass cheek to the side so that his puckered hole came into view. He stroked it with a finger lightly, circling it. “Mmm... You feel empty here, don’t you? You’d like something here. Long and thick inside.”

Zeke suppressed a moan, body covered in a sheen of sweat and he tugged at his rope bindings that rubbed his skin raw. He panted as Calvi waited patiently for his response. He opened his mouth in a gasp. “Y-yes, sir.”

The older man nodded and hummed in acknowledgement. He smoothed over Zeke’s hole with his thumb, tilting his head. “But you won’t be getting that.” He abruptly took his thumb away and instead dug it into the skin between Zeke’s anus and balls, pressing it in forcefully, almost meanly. “This is punishment. You have failed your country. And you will know your place.”

Zeke groaned loudly and jolted, Calvi’s fingers digging harshly into that sensitive place. He pressed into it aggressively, roughly, massaging and stimulating his prostate from the outside. Zeke felt the intense rush rising steadily within him, his balls tightening and dick twitching, wanting to escape. But he couldn't cum, his toes curling, the metal rod thrusting in and out and preventing his release, Calvi twisting it between his fingers and rubbing the ridges all the way inside.

Zeke’s cock bobbed and his urethra throbbed, choking and shuddering, and Calvi’s fingers dug into his taint harder. He felt like he would burst, the pleasure and pain mixing together and blending in to one, and he sobbed in frustration, desperate for orgasm.

Calvi leaned in close to Zeke’s ear, breath warm and tone dark. “This was your failure, Warchief Zeke. You would do well to ensure it doesn't happen again.”

The older man pulled the metal rod out of him in one swift motion, twisting it purposely, and Zeke’s eyes went wide and his voice broke, hips twitching uncontrollably. The pressure in his groin finally released with a burst and he moaned loudly, legs shaking with pleasure as semen shot out of his dick and covered his stomach in thick spurts. Another shudder wracked through him violently and he groaned breathlessly, tongue lolling and balls tight up against his body, and his dick convulsed and squirted again, and once more.

Calvi's expression didn't even change, just stepped back away from him and removed his gloves calmly, beginning to untie the tight ropes around Zeke’s wrists.

Zeke slumped onto the desk as he was released, covered in sweat and eyes glassy, looking like a complete wreck. He was panting and lightheaded, still coming to his senses, still experiencing involuntary tremors from the intensity of his orgasm. He was painfully sensitive everywhere, even the light shirt on his shoulders was too much and he gasped and twitched pathetically, overstimulated.

Calvi was unperturbed. “You are not permitted to heal the marks around your wrists with your ability. I expect them to still be present the next time you’re called here.” He had already turned away, as if Zeke was an afterthought and not still spread out on his desk in a puddle of his own cum. “Dismissed.”

Zeke left Calvi’s office while rubbing at his wrists and wincing, rolling the joints stiffly and glancing down at the new bright red marks. His dick was aching, rubbed raw and deliciously sore inside his underwear. It had been a particularly rough session but Zeke welcomed the pain. Better his punishment be that than being fed to the next warrior candidate.

Colt, now twelve years old, along with the other warrior candidates were running drills outside with Magath and Zeke walked around them in an arc. The scowling soldier he had given a blowjob to at Utgard Castle was outside with the warrior candidates and Zeke grinned when he noticed the man, waving at him exaggeratedly. The soldier grimaced at the sight of him, turning back to Magath, and Zeke frowned lightly, amused and disappointed.

The soldier, introduced to him as Friedrich, had been promoted and was to be working closely with Magath in charge of the Eldian and Warrior Units. Zeke and Reiner’s failure to retake the Founding Titan had caused unrest and distrust amongst the high-ranking military brass. The Warrior Unit was already seen as mistrustful and dangerous, but this had been unprecedented. Marley had decided that the warriors needed a tighter leash and assigned more ethnically Marleyan soldiers to be their handlers. Almost as if they were misbehaving dogs, Zeke mused.

It seemed that this soldier and he would be working more closely together from then on and he stated just as much as he shook Friedrich’s hand with an easy smile. He glanced down at the man's crotch teasingly then back at his face, raising his eyebrows comically. Friedrich glowered at him darkly, his grip much too firm.

The Mid-Eastern Alliance was stirring after hearing of Marley's failure to retrieve the Founding.

War was coming.

But Zeke was determined, already planning his next steps and entrusting them to Yelena.

If it was for Eren, he would do anything. He would become the god Yelena believed him to be. His little brother was the one person in this world he would never abandon.

But if only he had known the truth back then.

If Zeke was to be a god, then his little brother Eren was the devil.

Chapter 7: ravage me

Summary:

Zeke’s plan is set into motion.

Notes:

Warning for dubious consent

Not long after their failure and returning to Marley, Zeke went to visit his grandparents. He bought his grandmother a pair of new shoes and his grandfather some of his favourite cigars. By virtue of his Honorary Marleyan status, his grandfather was receiving the best psychological treatment available. On a good day, Mr. Jaeger was the familiar gentle, loving old man who had raised him.

Zeke’s hair had grown out significantly, his scruffy beard making him look wild, and his grandmother tutted and forced him into a chair in that way that grandmothers did. She had decided to cut his hair for him and although Zeke resisted thoroughly at first, they came to a compromise that if she could neaten him up, then he could keep his beard.

Zeke looked around at his childhood home and it brought him peace seeing that it had barely changed over the years. But he noticed that the photo of Grisha and his Aunt Faye was not where he remembered it. His grandfather had been doing particularly well lately and so Zeke decided not to ask about it, just closing his eyes and relaxing into the soft snip, snip of his grandmother’s gentle hands on his nape.

Reiner had gotten considerably thinner since he got back. He didn’t talk to anyone about what had occurred during those years on the island, other than the necessary reports to Magath and the higher-ups. His eyes were different than Zeke remembered, sunken and hollow, as if he had seen things no man should have to see. He was a completely different man to the little boy who had left and it was a strange feeling for him to be back, sliding in next to the other warriors and to the life he had before. Except that now, there were three empty seats where Marcel, Annie and Bertholdt once sat.

Porco inherited the Jaw from the freckled young girl during the time Zeke and the warriors were fighting in Shiganshina. He had time to train with it while they were away and Magath claimed he was just as promising as his late brother. A fight had broken out when Reiner reported the circumstances of Marcel’s death; that he had died a whole five years ago. Porco attacked him when he heard he had ran and left his brother to die, but Reiner didn’t even try to fight back. He let Porco push him to the floor and pummel him until he was bleeding and unrecognizable. Pieck pulled him off, but even then, Reiner simply spat out a mouthful of blood and stayed silent, accepting it all.

Magath and Pieck had started to look at Zeke differently since the warriors returned and submitted reports of their failed mission in Shiganshina. Zeke was annoyed at himself for his blunder; he had been so overwhelmed when he saw his little brother and had known that the military was aware of Eren’s connection to Grisha and therefore to Zeke. He had believed making contact with Eren wouldn’t be a problem in their eyes. But it had been spontaneous when he laid eyes on the boy; it hadn’t occurred to him at the time that his words were too personal, that it might have looked strange to Pieck, and to Magath after reading her report. Zeke simply pasted on his friendly smile and acted the big brother, obediently followed Magath’s every order, knowing that doubt and suspicion was not the same as proof.

Colt was top of his class and considered the most promising warrior candidate they had in years. Magath was certain he would be inheriting a titan in the near future, although it wasn’t decided which one yet. His little brother Falco had joined the warrior program as well and it seemed the brothers’ hard work to atone for the sins of their uncle were paying off. Along with Reiner’s determined little cousin, the warrior program was proving to be incredibly effective. With Zeke’s lifespan only having four years remaining, Marley was fervently preparing for the next generation.

Zeke was preparing as well. It was an odd feeling to know when his last days would be, to be counting them down and the knowledge he wouldn’t see past thirty. But he had always known life was meaningless anyway, believed it would have been better not to have been born at all, so it was really just a hollow feeling more than fear or sadness. Saving the world was the only thing he lived for, the ‘meaning’ of his short life, and more recently, saving Eren. And so he did his drills as ordered and trained with the others, acting as the loyal, obedient warrior, all for the sake of his and Ksaver’s plan.

There were times during morning training when he would slack off to sneak a cigarette, and he would notice Friedrich giving him this look. The man’s eyes would drop to Zeke’s lips wrapped around the rolled paper in his mouth and Zeke’s brows would raise in surprise, mouth twitching up. The soldier was remembering, that dark hallway in Utgard Castle, and Zeke wanted so terribly to tease him. But in the next moment, Magath was yelling at Zeke to quit slacking and the soldier’s face would revert as if nothing had happened. Perhaps because life was meaningless, Zeke loved the trivialities of seducing and being seduced. It was all just a game and Zeke was eager to enjoy it.

Ever since his traumatizing experience with the soldier known as Levi, Zeke buried himself in research that Ksaver left behind. He read every book he could find from the research society on the Ackermans, the legendary clan thought to be a myth. His mind drifted back to the tiny soldier who resembled a monster, the way his eyes had bore into his very being. The enormous power his small body had hidden within it and the utter hate held within his gaze, and Zeke felt a violent shudder wrack through his body, all the way down to his toes. Levi had truly intended to kill him and there was something so terrifying and exciting in that thought that Zeke couldn’t physically bear it.

Fear.

What is fear if not the desire to live? His biological instincts screaming to propagate, survive and live on. Zeke had never felt anything like it before, so strongly opposing his very life’s ideology.

Zeke templed his fingers over the spine of a book, resting his forehead against them. Fear of a monster. That was what Levi Ackerman was to him.

The Mid-Eastern Alliance took the opportunity while Marley was vulnerable after losing so many titans and declared war on them, banding together. Marley had made enemies of too many nations, war-hungry and arrogant, too confident in their power of the titans. It was inevitable that they lacked manpower and had no choice but to focus all their forces on the upcoming war.

But the power of the titans were still Marley’s pride and Zeke manipulated meetings with the higher-ups, used his influence on General Calvi. The military began talks of sending scouting ships to Paradis within a year, to observe and continue their mission to retake their lost titans.

The Anti-Marleyan Volunteers had grown exponentially in size and Zeke told them of Paradis and his brother the Founding Titan, Eren Jaeger. Their plan was simple - the volunteers would infiltrate the scouting ships and bring Marleyan technology to Paradis. They would reintegrate them with the world outside their tiny island and their ultimate goal was the freedom of all Eldians from Marley’s tyrannical rule.

But only to Yelena did he tell the whole truth; their goal was contact with Eren and euthanasia. And perhaps one of the most complex parts of the plan: Zeke was to spend a considerable amount of time over the next few months having his spinal fluid extracted and mixed with wine. Yelena’s eyes were wide, almost crazed and much too intense as she listened to him speak, and informed him that she would lead the operation and be on the first scouting ship sent. She wanted more than anything to meet Eren.

And just like that, Zeke’s plan was in motion.

It was midday and Zeke had come back to his room at headquarters after spending hours with Yelena extracting his spinal fluid in secret. His lower back was aching from the procedure and he winced, his body slowly trying to regenerate itself.

He had brought one of the completed bottles of wine to his room with him as a sample, to observe if there were any changes in colour or composition over time. He rotated the bottle in his hands, studying it in the sunlight that shone from his window when all of a sudden the door to his room opened.

Friedrich, the soldier from Utgard, forced his way into his room and shut the door behind him. Zeke looked up at him in alarm as he placed the wine quickly on the lower shelf of his bookcase.

The man’s gaze focused on him from across the room, eyeing him suspiciously up and down. “Where have you been since morning training?”

Zeke painted a casual smile across his lips, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not on the clock. Should the military be concerned with what I do in my private time?”

Friedrich approached him with loud, heavy steps, cornering him against the bookcase. “I am. Because Eldian devils can’t be trusted.” His eyes narrowed into slits, searching Zeke’s face for something beneath the fake veneer. His tone was dark, distrustful. “What are you planning?”

Zeke leaned back away from him exaggeratedly, stepping out from in front of him to put some distance between them. “Well, actually I was planning on eating a rather large sandwich and then... taking a long shit or something,” he sniffed. “I have a very special ass-wiping technique. You’re welcome to watch if you’d like.”

The soldier’s face twisted into a glare. “Enough of your fucking games.”

“Why always the bullying, Officer?” Zeke sighed, pulling out his cigarettes from his pocket. “Go bully Porco or something, his face is asking for it.” He placed a cigarette between his teeth before lighting a match.

It was only for a split second but Friedrich’s eyes dropped to Zeke’s mouth in such a way, to his lips poised around the cigarette before returning up to his eyes again and the blond noticed. He had caught the man staring at his lips multiple times since returning from the island, during training or at the cafeteria.

Friedrich positively smoldered with anger at his teasing smirk.

“Officer, are you trying to seduce me? Or are you just trying to get me to suck your cock again?”

The man’s eyes widened and his hand flew up to Zeke’s throat, slamming him back against the bookcase, voice threatening. “Shut your filthy mouth, you fucking whore.”

“Oof...” Zeke’s head bumped roughly and he winced, rubbing it. “No reason to be so roug-” He was suddenly shoved towards his desk and his hip knocked into it painfully. “Ow, I said...!”

Friedrich didn’t let him protest, tugging his hair and shoving him face down onto the desk, bending him forcibly over it. “You spread your legs for every man like a fucking prostitute,” he seethed, his voice shaking with anger and something desperate and crazed. “Tormenting me with that cursed mouth.”

Zeke didn’t even have time to react as the man pressed him down and forced his fingers inside Zeke’s mouth. The blond jolted, choking around the fingers pushing between his lips.

Friedrich’s other hand was hurriedly undoing Zeke’s belt and tugging his pants roughly so they dropped around his ankles. His breathing was fervent and wanting as he thrusted his fingers over his tongue, coating them in Zeke’s drool. The blond’s limbs started to tremble when he felt the hard bulge pressing into his backside, eyes lidding. Oh. The man’s fingers were covered in Zeke’s saliva and he drew them out, the blond letting out a wet gasp as strings of drool connected them.

And then immediately those wet fingers were probing into Zeke’s tight entrance.

Zeke groaned breathlessly at the pain as they forced themselves inside him, stretching him too quickly, too savagely. The man just shoved them in - he was so tight - thrusting them in and out and twisting them, panting heavily with arousal.

“Oh,” Zeke laughed breathily, his head falling to the desk beneath him. “You figured out my special ass-wiping technique.”

Friedrich jabbed his digits in harshly and made him yelp, slapping his other hand over Zeke’s mouth and grasping tightly. “Shut up.”

The fingers inside him left even though he was still much too tight and he heard a zipper. Then immediately felt the fat head of the man’s cock forcing itself into him. He groaned muffledly around the hand over his mouth, the intense burning of his hole stretching too quickly. He groaned breathlessly and his eyes widened, sweaty forehead pressing against the desk and fingers scratching. The man was brutal, forcing his hips inwards and sinking inside, groaning at the warmth and tightness squeezing him. His hand pushed at Zeke’s lower back to keep him down and Zeke was sure that the skin of his hole had torn.

He sunk all the way in until his hips were pressed right up against Zeke’s backside and he let out a low sigh, circling lightly. Zeke was trembling from the painful stretch, spine taut and choking onto the hand pressed tightly against his mouth.

And then he started moving. Drawing his hips back and snapping them forward, beginning to thrust violently. Zeke whined and his body rocked with the movements, the desk rattling beneath them. The man’s dick was long and curved lightly, a perfect thickness that stretched his hole around it and Zeke’s eyes lidded despite the pain, his cock twitching between his legs.

“Eldian devil... your filthy mouth and those cursed eyes...” Friedrich sounded depraved, gritting his teeth and forcing out the words. “Just begging me to bend you over and ruin you...” The man pressed him down and leaned over him, free hand reaching around to grasp Zeke’s dick bobbing between his legs. He squeezed it meanly, painfully, and Zeke clenched and his eyes watered as he whimpered. His hole was tightening around his cock and the man hissed and his hips stuttered, before gritting his teeth and giving a particularly brutal thrust, hips smacking harder.

“Mmmgghhh.” Zeke moaned muffledly, trying to rub himself pathetically into the tight fist around his dick.

The man’s thrusts were too rough, stabbing into him, jolting Zeke’s body each time and rocking the desk beneath him. The musky smell of sex was permeating the room, his movements harsh and punishing, pressing his hips in tight against Zeke’s ass each time and puncturing him deep inside.

With every stroke in and every stoke out, the tip of that curved cock would drag against Zeke’s prostate, swollen and throbbing with his arousal. They had only used spit as lube and Zeke’s skin dragged painfully; he was sure he was bleeding but it felt so good. The pain was mouth-watering, he hadn’t had a cock like this in ages, ravaging his insides and making him shudder all over. He felt that familiar curling of his toes when the soldier rubbed his prostate and the pressure intensified in his groin. But the man’s hand was squeezing tightly around the base of Zeke’s penis and he moaned muffledly, scratching at the desk beneath him.

“Worthless cock-sleeve.” Friedrich was breathless, wild with arousal as he panted in Zeke’s ear. “You take my cock like you were made for it.”

It felt like praise to Zeke in his fucked out pleasure and it took him by surprise, eyes scrunching as his body went tight, toes curling into the floor. The man’s dick pressed into his prostate and rubbed against it with another brutal smack of his hips, and the wave of pleasure swallowed him, crashed into him and his eyes were watering as the orgasm consumed him. But the man’s hand was still squeezing his base, and even though the pleasure overwhelmed him, his penis simply twitched frustratedly and nothing came out. It was much more intense than a normal orgasm and he just writhed and it throbbed, scrabbling at the desk and biting the hand on his mouth.

Friedrich winced as Zeke clenched around him impossibly tight and squeezed him. The blond’s cock was twitching pathetically in his fist and he stared down at the heaving back below him in bewilderment. “Did you just...?” The blond had come dry, he hadn’t even known men were capable of such a thing. Zeke was shaking from the pleasure and sniffling and drooling into his hand, barely able to hold himself up.

The man groaned, the feeling of Zeke’s insides warm and tight around him, and he quickened his pace as Zeke just moaned pathetically. He swore under his breath, his balls tightening and he desperately smacked his hips against his ass a few more times before he went stiff. He pressed himself down hard against Zeke’s body, plunging his hips as deep as they could go. He panted and cursed, hips twitching as he finally released with a loud groan.

Zeke felt the hot rush of semen inside him, a long, warm spurt that made a shiver run down his whole spine. The man’s hips smacked jerkily against him again and he felt another warm spurt, and another. He was fading in and out, lightheaded and struggling to breathe, his knees shaking violently at the intensity of his dry orgasm.

The man circled his hips to prolong his release, groaning lowly and slowing. There were a few long moments as they came down, the only sound in the quiet room being both of their panting. Friedrich finally peeled himself away from Zeke’s back and his voice was utterly disdainful, all the heavy arousal from moments before disappeared.

“To think. You can cum without even ejaculating. You really are a fucking whore.”

He finally released his painful grip from around the base of Zeke’s cock and his other hand from over his mouth and the blond gasped like he’d been punched, panting with relief. His cock was already softening and he jolted in surprise at the feeling of Friedrich’s member sliding out of him wetly, and following soon after, the sticky semen he had released inside. It dripped out of him onto the floor between his legs, and Zeke looked down at it, the sheer volume of it sliding down his thighs.

The soldier took a half-step back and Zeke jolted weakly as he felt him pinch the skin of the blond’s ass and thighs, forcing him to spread them wider and rise up on his tiptoes, so the man could see inside.

Zeke’s hole was red, puffy and raw, stretched lewdly to twice it’s normal size. The white, creamy liquid was dripping and spilling out obscenely and Friedrich’s face twisted into a sneer, shoving two of his fingers inside and churning them around roughly.

Zeke’s eyes went wide and choked at the feeling, panting and staring down at the floor as globs of white dripped in thick splatters on the floor between his legs.

Friedrich watched the blond’s reaction, the way his knees shook and spine went taut, clenching around his fingers weakly. He drew his eyebrows together in scorn and drew his fingers out of Zeke’s messy hole. He studied them for a moment distastefully then wiped them on Zeke’s shirt, before slapping him once on his bare ass just to make Zeke jolt again.

He buckled up his pants and left him there exhausted and panting, walking over to the door. He paused at the doorway, smoothing the lapels of his uniform and looking back over his shoulder at the blond still bent over his desk. He paused for a moment before scoffing.

“Easier than a whore. Cheaper, too,” he mused, before lowering his voice darkly. "I will find out what you're doing." Then he opened the door and swiftly walked out, the door banging shut behind him.

The room was suddenly quiet, nothing but the sound of Zeke’s own heavy breathing as he listened to Friedrich’s heavy footsteps fade away. He straightened up slowly, wincing at the pain between his legs and held his lower back with his hand, raising one foot and looking down at the mess.

He stepped out of his pants, limping over to the adjoining bathroom wearing just his shirt, semen still sliding down his thighs.

He sat in his bathtub with the water running down the drain, his legs open and fingers inside himself to clean it out, scooping out the semen. His hole was sore, steam rising from his body as it began to heal. Friedrich had released heavily, there was a lot; he had used him as a complete toy, and the thought made Zeke warm and heady.

He barely felt shame when his cock hardened from the feeling of his own fingers and he used his other hand to stroke his shaft lightly. He fingered himself and pressed against his own prostate firmly, his body automatically curling in on itself at the feeling as he closed his eyes, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. His legs twitched every time he pressed it and he stroked his cock in time, panting hotly. It didn't take long for him to spurt into his fist and he groaned in relief at the feeling of ejaculating instead of the dry orgasm from before. He watched the creamy liquid circle and slide down the drain and leaned his head back against the tiled wall with a thump.

He thought of how Friedrich had called him those names, been so wild with arousal and wanting him so badly, had told him he was made to take his cock. It had made Zeke excited, pushed him over the edge to hear someone so depraved for him.

He covered his mouth with his hand, the manic smile he couldn't suppress, shutting his eyes tightly.

He had said he had wanted to ruin him.

And god, how Zeke wanted to be ruined.

Notes:

“Why is Zeke such a hoe,” the author asked as she enthusiastically wrote about Zeke getting fucked for the tenth time.

Chapter 8: degrade me

Summary:

Zeke grows numb as he waits for contact from Paradis.

Notes:

Warning for questionable use of a gun, cock slapping, cum play and very rough sex.

The first fleet of scouting ships set off with Yelena on board, along with her handsome dark-skinned second-in-command and the rest of the Volunteers disguised amongst them. The ships were loaded with dozens of crates of tainted wine and Zeke was satisfied that none of the Marleyan soldiers seemed to protest to the sheer amount of it; much more than was realistically needed.

Yelena and Onyankopon had stolen as many serums as they could from the military, smuggling them on board, and Zeke had provided them with stolen folders of classified information that they were to relay to Paradis once they arrived. Detailed information on the Beast, Armored, Jaw and Cart Titans along with the shifters within them, the number of currently serving Marleyan soldiers and their formations, blueprints of their weaponry and technologies. It was all for the sake of freeing Paradis, stuck a century behind the rest of the modern world.

It occurred to Zeke belatedly that he was selling out his comrades, betraying his fellow warriors whom he had fought alongside for more than a decade. But as he looked around the table at Reiner, Porco, Pieck, Colt and Magath, he was mutedly aware that he didn’t feel much at all. He just felt numb. His fingers barely shook any more these days and he wondered why.

Falco and Gabi were enthusiastic little candidates along with Udo and Zofia, competing with each other for top marks. Colt had been formally chosen as Zeke’s successor and was now allowed into classified meetings with him and the higher-ups, preparing him as the next inheritor. The Grice family was officially alleviated of any suspicion caused by their uncle nineteen years ago. Colt was a polite and intelligent young man and he looked up to Zeke with pure admiration in his eyes. Zeke couldn’t help but feel a bit soft towards him, ruffling his hair and congratulating him, inviting him out to play catch ball.

Throwing the baseball back and forth, Zeke wondered if this was what being an older brother felt like. He yearned to see Eren, missed him despite the awareness that he barely knew him. Perhaps he was lonely, but he wasn’t really sure.

Zeke’s sexual relationship with Friedrich continued after that first time in Zeke’s room. The man was brutal and mean, almost punishing with his treatment of the blond, as if he was daring Zeke to attack him or hurt him back so that the military would feed him to the next warrior candidate. But Zeke was positively weak to the pain, adored the feeling of being used, being wanted, even if it wasn’t out of love but instead out of disdain.

The soldier would show up in his room uninvited, push him down forcefully onto the bed, tugging at his hair roughly. Zeke would just grin breathlessly, obediently bending over with a sultry look over his shoulder.

“Always so rough. What will you do if I start liking it?”

Friedrich would just scowl, fisting his hair and ripping at his clothes with a low, “Shut up.”

Zeke’s face pressed into his pillows, on his knees with his ass in the air. Friedrich took him from behind, the position just as degrading as his words were. The rhythmic loud slapping noises of skin hitting skin echoed in the room and Zeke didn’t bother keeping his voice down, moaning at the brutal pace that his body could barely handle. The man’s curved cock was forcing itself inside him and Zeke couldn’t stop the tears welling in his eyes, jaw slack and erection drooling relentlessly, trying to spread his legs impossibly wider to hump the bedsheets beneath him.

Friedrich’s grip on him was bruising, pulling him by the hair and spanking him for trying to rub himself against the sheets, until his ass was red and raw and throbbing.

“Dirty slut,” he spat, smacking him again and Zeke jerked, pale ass bouncing. He pinched meanly at the red skin of Zeke’s hole, stretched obscenely around his dick. “Filthy whore...!” He rubbed at it and flicked it, alternating between groping his ass and spanking it, and Zeke’s dick released another glob of pre-come as his ass jiggled, whole body shaking with pleasure.

His hips smacked against Zeke’s backside over and over, his cock hitting those places that made the blond whine and choke. The man had his hand on the back of Zeke’s sweaty neck like a claim of ownership, pressing him down into the mattress, his other hand preventing the blond from humping the sheets. “I didn’t say you could get yourself off, you desperate slut.”

Zeke’s ass was bright red and throbbing as the man spanked him again, and he just moaned muffledly into his pillow. The mix of pain and pleasure was dizzying and he knew Friedrich wouldn’t stop the brutal pace and hard smacks until he whined and spurted onto the sheets beneath him.

The military lost contact with the first fleet of scouting ships that Yelena had infiltrated as planned. Marley sent a second fleet and a third, losing contact with each, and Zeke acted unaware, supporting the decisions of the higher-ups to continue sending more. War with the Mid-Eastern Alliance was suddenly upon them, and Marley relocated the Warrior and Eldian units from Liberio and further into the mainland, away from headquarters to fight.

Zeke took the opportunity and planned a meeting with Kiyomi of the Hizuru clan in secret, handing over the mechanical device he had stolen from the soldier he killed on Paradis. The older woman was intelligent, but Zeke had done his research and took advantage of the clan’s greedy nature to strike a deal with her. All the riches of trading iceburst stone would be hers, as long as she could meet with the Paridisians and relay Zeke’s fifty-year plan to them.

Kiyomi read through the conditions he had prepared, eyes skimming the page, and paused at the third and final condition. “The member of the royal bloodline will inherit the Beast Titan from Zeke Jaeger and should conceive as many children as possible before their thirteen year lifespan is over.” She looked to Zeke curiously, her eyes crinkled with age. “I hope you don’t mind me asking. Why not yourself? You haven’t made any children of your own despite knowing of your royal blood. The people of Paradis will ask the same, I’m sure.”

Zeke scratched his ear, smiling coolly. He had expected this, preparing an answer that wouldn’t reveal his true goals. “It’s important for future inheritors and any subsequent royal children to be from Paradis. I may have royal blood but I’m not Paradisian. After I’m gone, the royal bloodline needs to be kept within the island. Also...” He smiled crookedly. “I’m gay, ma’am. Ladies terrify me. Never gone near one in my life. If you know what I mean.”

There was a silence as Kiyomi and her group of henchmen behind her stared dumbly at him in shock. Until Kiyomi suddenly broke into loud, tittering laughter, holding her hand daintily to her mouth. Zeke scratched the back of his head sheepishly as she wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled at him, still chuckling. “I’ll be sure to let them know.”

They had won a battle against the Mid-Eastern Alliance on sea and Zeke had been called in to General Calvi’s office. When he was finally finished he was fucked out and tired, been forced to orgasm three times in succession. He just got back to his room when Friedrich stormed in, grasping Zeke’s wrist and forcing it up to eye-level. He glared at the rope burns on his wrists, face twisting darkly, shoving him backwards onto the bed and causing Zeke to stumble and trip over his feet.

Friedrich tore off his clothes angrily, revealing the rope burns around his arms and legs and torso. “You’re disgusting,” he hissed.

“Mmm...” Zeke laughed breathlessly, removing his glasses and rubbing his face, pushing his sweaty locks away from his forehead. “Say that again.”

The soldier punished him that day, taking out his handgun and fucking Zeke with it. He forced the barrel inside him without stretching him properly first, and the wet slide of metal in and out made Zeke jerk and twitch uncontrollably. He could barely breathe, already fucked out from earlier with General Calvi, and yet his dick got hard anyway. He laughed bewilderedly, almost crazedly, looking down at his erection rising towards his stomach with wide eyes. He didn’t even know if Friedrich had unloaded the gun first, all he could hear was that obscene wet slide of metal and the intense buzzing in his ears.

“I can’t believe you’re getting hard from this,” Friedrich sneered, and Zeke’s toes curled, gaping at the ceiling and body twitching. He felt like he was going insane, his body sheened with sweat. Friedrich fisted his hair and the pain shot through the blond’s scalp, when he suddenly slapped Zeke hard across the face. The man laughed as Zeke’s head whipped to the side as it was struck and stars burst in his vision. His mind went white as the pain erupted, blooming and inflaming his skin with heat. He sucked in air desperately as he forced himself to breathe again, his cock bobbing with excitement. His nose had started bleeding, dripping onto the white sheets, and he stared at it dazedly, unsure if it was from being hit or from his overwhelming arousal. He spread his legs wider and arched his back as the gun continued thrusting in and out, his tongue lolling and whining pathetically, feeling dizzy.

“Fucking slut,” Friedrich laughed breathily, voice dark and heavy. “So desperate for a cock to fill you up, you’ll take anything.”

The gun’s barrel slid out from inside him suddenly and Zeke blinked blearily and smeared the blood on his nose with his fist, panting heavily and curling his fingers at the empty feeling. There was the sound of a belt buckle and then Friedrich shoved his dick inside him, sliding it in firmly without pause and the stretch was mouth-wateringly painful.

Zeke moaned pathetically at the fullness, chest heaving with his breaths and Friedrich slapped him across the face again, a sneer on his lips. A sob erupted from Zeke’s chest, limbs shaking and jerking and erection twitching and leaking pre-come. He couldn’t see through the stars and the tears in his eyes, blinking through the pain and tasting blood.

“You love this, huh?” Friedrich leaned back and stroked Zeke’s dick a few times, holding his ankle with the other to keep his legs open. Then he slapped Zeke’s cock with his open palm and the blond almost squealed, the bright burst of pain overwhelming and making his whole body tense, his dick so hard that it hurt. He fumbled blindly for the man to stop, voice breaking in his throat, but Friedrich pushed his hands away firmly and slapped his cock again. Zeke sobbed and curled inwards and his dick twitched, aching and confused and not any less hard. “Fucking masochist.”

The man started flicking the head of Zeke’s dick with the flats of his nails, mean little pinches all over and the blond was so overstimulated that he felt like he might black out. Friedrich slapped his cock again and the orgasm took Zeke by surprise, his lower half pooled with throbbing fire and ebbing over until it crashed into him, making his whole body shake uncontrollably.

Friedrich arched his body and pushed himself in as deep as he could go, releasing inside with thick spurts. His hips were still thrusting languidly and milking his orgasm when he leaned down to Zeke’s ear, his voice low and breathy. "If you were a woman, your belly would be swollen with my children by now.” The words made Zeke dizzy and his throat go dry, blood from his nose staining the sheets red. The thought of having children repulsed him and yet those cruel words made his cock twitch. He whimpered and shook, unable to stop his dick from spurting some more.

The man liked to fill him up like that, pulling their sweaty bodies apart, only to enter him once more while he was still warm and wet inside and fill him up again. He had an obsession with it, a fixation, the way the creamy liquid would spill out of Zeke’s hole obscenely. He would force it back in with his fingers, plugging him up, and Zeke couldn’t stop thinking about his words, running circles around inside his head.

Afterwards, Zeke reached for his cigarettes, wearing nothing but his open shirt. Cum was still oozing from between his legs and soaking the bedsheets beneath him and his face was still bloody from his nosebleed, staining his shirt. His hair was a sweaty mess and his body was purple and bruised from Friedrich and General Calvi’s rough treatment. He was meant to report to Magath and the other warriors and candidates soon, but he felt drained and exhausted, his body lacking the energy to regenerate itself.

Friedrich was still there for once, using a wet towel from Zeke’s bathroom to wipe down his gun, looking incredibly prim for someone who had just finished fucking.

Zeke took a drag of his cigarette, watching the soldier inspect his handgun dutifully. He unloaded the chamber before replacing the bullets again and Zeke’s eyes went wide. “Fuck’s sake... You didn’t unload it?”

Friedrich’s eyes slid to him boredly, closing the chamber. “Why would I?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Officer. So you don’t shoot my dick off?”

“Why would that matter?” The man glowered. “You’re a fucking monster who regenerates anyway.”

“Jesus Christ.” Zeke ran his hand through his hair, rubbing his face exasperatedly. “I’m not immortal. You fucked me in the ass with it and could have shot me in the head...”

Friedrich scowled. “You’re such a noisy whore, just shut up.” He threw the wet towel at Zeke’s face. “And wipe your fucking nose.”

Zeke just gaped at him, ash from his cigarette dropping onto the sheet. He sighed, too exhausted, and just wiped at his nose, looking down at the towel now stained with red. “Why are you always so mean?” He pulled the ash tray onto the bed towards him, tapping his cigarette into it. “I thought you liked noisy whores.”

Friedrich ignored him and finished cleaning his gun, putting it away. Zeke offered him a cigarette half-heartedly, not really expecting him to accept, but surprisingly, he did this time. He lit it and leaned back against the headboard next to him, the ashtray between them.

Zeke had been particularly careful since that first time the man had forced his way into his room. He hadn’t slipped up at all, had given no one any reason to suspect him. But Friedrich still watched him too closely during meetings, like he was just waiting for the Eldian devil to reveal his true colours.

But the longer their sexual relationship continued, the more Zeke realized the man was self-loathing and prideful, hated himself for lusting over an Eldian, rather than suspicious of Zeke for something specifically. If he truly knew something and doubted Zeke’s loyalty to Marley, he would have reported him by now. But he kept forcing his way into his room; into his body, instead.

Zeke eyed the side of his face, the prominent jawline and straight nose, and sucked his teeth. “So no boyfriend then, Officer? I would think with a face like yours, you wouldn’t need to be fucking an ‘Eldian devil’ like me.”

Friedrich looked over at him and wrinkled his nose, blowing out smoke. “I’m not gay.”

The blond blinked at him confusedly, opening his mouth and closing it again. Did he... did he think Zeke was a woman...? ”...Officer, I know I’m pretty, but not that pretty.” He tugged at the blond bushy strands on his chin. “I really thought the beard would be a giveaway.” He gestured down at his soft member between his legs. “Maybe the dick too.”

Friedrich breathed out in annoyance, as if the very sound of the blond’s voice was a nuisance to him. “I fuck you because you’re an easy lay. A filthy Eldian whore who sucks cock for free.” He eyed him condescendingly, like he was looking at a creature beneath his boot. “That’s all you are.”

Zeke sniffed and wiped at his nose again, pink and sore from his nosebleed. He didn’t even know what he had been expecting. “Well, alright then.”

A silence followed as they both finished their cigarettes. They could hear faint laughter and yelling outside, the warrior unit playing with the candidates. They would need to meet with Magath shortly. Friedrich turned to the bedside table beside him, at the pair of glasses folded neatly on top of a book.

“You’re very protective of your glasses,” he stated suddenly, tone unreadable.

Zeke squinted at him, unsure if the man was insulting him or not.

Friedrich turned back to him, studying his face curiously for a moment. Zeke felt his pulse flutter strangely when the man said abruptly, “You look better without them.”

They stared at each other for a beat too long, Zeke’s habitual witty retort stuck in his throat. The man was leaning in towards him and Zeke could have sworn he was about to kiss him. But instead Friedrich just smirked cruelly and the blond’s heart dropped. “It’s a shame you’re an Eldian devil.”

His fingers were probing at Zeke’s entrance, at the semen that was oozing out, and the blond jolted at the feeling, eyes dropping between his legs.

“Don’t... what are yo-” He was cut off as the soldier used his fingers and smeared his own cum over Zeke’s lips, like a fucked up lip gloss, and all Zeke could do was stare in shock.

“Gross.” Friedrich smirked, disgusted.

He stood up from the bed, adjusting his uniform and gun in its holster then walking over to the door. “Clean yourself up. Commander Magath is expecting us. I’m not covering for you if you’re late.”

The door slammed shut behind him and Zeke just stared after him, swallowing thickly and brows furrowing. He used his sleeve to wipe desperately at his lips, to get rid of that bitter taste that wouldn’t leave no matter how much he tried.

Almost thirty scouting ships had disappeared when he finally heard from Yelena. The Volunteers had been successful, making contact with the island and bringing them technology from Marley, helping them to build a railway and harbour. They now had telephones and photographs and a way to reach the outside world, and Kiyomi had met with them and relayed Zeke’s conditions and fifty-year plan.

Paradis was mistrustful of him, Yelena informed him, but it was only a matter of time. She had met with Eren in secret and he had told her he would travel to Marley.

Zeke splashed cold water on his face, staring at himself in the mirror, the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes.

He looked so much like Grisha it made him sick.

He wiped his face with a towel, burying his face in it and calming his breathing.

Eren was coming to Marley.

He couldn't stop the flutter of his heartbeat, the rhythm of his pulse like a butterfly's wings.

Right before that butterfly has its wings ripped right off.

Notes:

The real reason Levi caught up to Zeke in the forest is because the clap of Zeke’s ass cheeks alerted him that he was escaping. That ass is thicc.

Chapter 9: doubt me

Summary:

Zeke meets with Eren and the day of the festival approaches.

Notes:

Warning for involuntary incestuous thoughts. Emphasis on involuntary but it's still explicit so please read at your own risk. I think Zeke is very fragile mentally and starved for any kind of love, so something like this is fitting for his character. But it’s wrong and he knows it and hates himself for it nonetheless.

The battles continued with the Mid-Eastern Alliance as Zeke waited for contact from Eren. Although Marley had the clear upper-hand in the war, there were certain things that the military would have preferred to ignore. The most prominent being that they had been much too confident in their power of the titans. The Mid-East had focused all their efforts, research and finances on Anti-Titan weaponry and Marley was caught in its trajectory.

The age of titans was coming to an end.

Zeke had barely two years left of his lifespan and did his best to continue manipulating the military to ignore the truth: that the power of humanity was overtaking titans. Marley continued to send scouting ships to Paradis but Magath was clearly unhappy about it and suspicious of Zeke for insisting on it.

Friedrich was suspicious of him too. He cornered him outside after an official meeting, behind the buildings, forcing him to his knees by his hair.

“I don’t know what you were trying to do in there,” he seethed. “But your efforts will be worthless in the end.”

He forced Zeke to suck him off out in the open like that, the bustling sounds of the city just around the corner where anyone could see them. Then he shoved him against the wall and fucked him to finish himself off. But the man still didn’t report him and Zeke foggily wondered why, moaning and spurting onto the wall in front of him.

Months passed and Fort Slava was all that was left to conquer. Porco and Pieck attacked the fort on land and Zeke and Reiner from the air. Zeke used his scream to transform the Eldian Unit into mindless titans and dropped them from the plane and he was so used to the inhumane treatment of his own people by now that he didn’t feel a thing. He swooped in on a parachute and transformed into his Beast, throwing the last shot to end the war - the war that he and Reiner had started with their failure in Shiganshina.

But with that shot, Marley was forced to confront the bitter truth that titans were no longer the victors of any war.

General Calvi was furious, admitting it begrudgingly. But Zeke manipulated the meeting, proposing they continue their mission to retake the Founding Titan as soon as possible. Magath protested, but Calvi would always listen to Zeke in the end.

“As expected of our Wonder Boy - I’ve never doubted you for a second. We begin preparations to continue the Paradis mission within a year.”

Magath eyed him distrustfully, but Zeke played the loyal, obedient warrior perfectly as always.

They were finally sent home to Liberio, reuniting with their families, but they didn’t have time to rest. Zeke was ordered to call a meeting and the higher-ups wiretapped his room, listening in to test the loyalties of the warrior unit.

A festival was to be held and the legendary Tybur family was coming to their little town of Liberio.

And then all at once, Zeke received a phone call from a small hospital in the internment zone and heard the voice that he had been longing for.

Eren had spent the last few months disguised as an Eldian soldier in the trenches. Zeke stared at his little brother’s missing limb and bandaged eye with concern.

Zeke said it without thinking: Eren was looking more and more like Grisha. He was so different to the last time he saw him. Where there used to be a round, youthful, innocent face, now there was a sharp jaw, dark curtains of hair and a cutting eye that burned intensely with something he couldn’t place. Just like their father.

Zeke spoke slowly as he explained his euthanasia plan and his desire to free the Eldian race from their pain and suffering. To save the world from the fear of the titans. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he finished, looking his little brother in the eye and asking him what he thought. He had never felt so concerned with someone else’s opinion in his life.

His throat went dry as Eren looked at him with those eyes; like they would burn everything and everyone around him to ashes.

Eren’s gaze slid to the ground and he told Zeke that Grisha had been wrong. Zeke’s chest was tight as he spoke; that they had been brainwashed by their vile excuse for a father and were destined to save the world.

When Eren called him, “Brother,” Zeke felt like he had lived his entire life for the sake of that moment.

Tears were welling up in Zeke’s eyes.

He had found him. Someone who understood.

His throat was squeezing and he cleared it awkwardly and sniffed, forcing the tears away. He wanted to hug Eren more than anything, even just a handshake would do, but fate wouldn’t allow it. The moment they touched would be the moment they saved the world.

So instead he reached into his pocket for the baseball Ksaver had gifted him, one of his most precious possessions. They agreed to continue meeting over the coming months to plan their next steps and Zeke threw the baseball lightly to him in lieu of touching him.

It left his fingers and breached the space between them and it felt like time slowed down.

But it slipped from Eren’s fingers, tumbling to the ground, and his dark hair slid from his shoulder as he bent over to pick it up.

Their eyes met as he straightened. And the intensity of Eren’s burning gaze pricked at the back of Zeke’s consciousness, his instincts screaming at him in warning.

Eren’s words were a lie, distorted and fumbled, just like the ball in his hands.

But Zeke ignored it. He wanted to believe him. He loved his little brother more than anything.

Blindly.

Endlessly.

Stupidly.

Eren’s eyes were scorching him. Burning him alive. Zeke felt unbearably hot, like his skin was on fire, sheened with sweat. They were in Shiganshina on top of the roof where they had first met, but the scenery around them looked strange and disfigured in Zeke’s peripherals. He couldn’t remember how they had gotten there. When had they come to Shiganshina?

Eren approached him, coming up close. He was shorter than him, the round, young face of his fifteen-year-old body looking up at him. Zeke just stared, swallowing and trying to avert his gaze to the twisted scenery around them. Eren raised a hand and touched Zeke’s face to make him look at him, his pale fingers cool and thin. Zeke jolted, alarmed.

They were touching.

They weren’t supposed to be touching.

But there was something wrong. There was nothing, no flash of memories or triggered powers. The outside sounds around them warped like an old radio, voices and noises fading like they were inside a giant fish bowl.

Eren’s fingers dragged over his skin, pushing into his blond strands. They trailed over his ear, stroking his scalp and tugging gently. Goosebumps rose on Zeke’s skin at the feeling, his whole body tense and going taut.

And then they were at the hospital. But he couldn’t remember how they got there. Only a moment had passed and Eren was now his nineteen-year-old self, grown to the same height as him and looking him straight in the eye.

Zeke struggled to breathe, his head feeling hot and hazy. Eren’s fingers hadn’t left him and were stroking into his hair. They slid down his face, his fingertips ice-cold and so gentle that Zeke trembled at the touch. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, pulse deafening in his ears.

What were they doing?

How did they get here?

They weren’t supposed to be touching.

He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat, feeling feverish, his skin hot and clammy with sweat. He forced his shaking lips open. ”E...Eren-...”

His brother didn’t let him speak, his remaining eye so fervid and pinning him down like an insect spread out beneath his gaze. He used his other hand and pushed Zeke backwards and the blond’s world tilted as he fell.

The scenery shifted again and now they were on Zeke’s bed. But his bedroom looked wrong; twisted shapes and morphing figures swimming at the backs of his eyes.

How did they get here?

What were they doing?

Zeke was pulled back to the present as Eren started unbuckling his belt. Zeke jolted and his pulse quickened. He protested weakly, trying to stop Eren’s nimble hands from sliding off his belt. “Eren, what are yo-“

He blinked and in the next moment he was already naked with his clothes nowhere in sight, laying flat on his back on his white sheets. He gaped up at the ceiling, reaching a trembling hand up to touch his face. His glasses were gone, but he couldn’t remember taking them off. Or hadn’t he been wearing them to begin with? His room shifted around him, warping strangely and fading in and out.

Eren forced him back to attention as he grasped Zeke’s soft member, beginning to stroke him languidly with those long, pale fingers. Zeke’s breath caught in his throat, sitting up jerkily and trying to curl away.

This was wrong.

What was happening?

How were they touching?

Eren was unfazed, eyes not leaving his face, staring into him and searing him with those burning eyes. Zeke felt feverish and like his throat was closing up, a buzzing sound rising in his ears. He grasped at his throat and tried to force his voice but nothing came out. He couldn’t breathe.

Eren pinned him there with his gaze as he lowered his face and opened his mouth, and Zeke was scratching at his throat, trying to speak or scream at him to stop, the buzzing getting louder and louder. Eren’s mouth closed around his erection and the white noise overcame him in a horrifying crescendo. A broken and whimpered moan was torn from his chest, the moist heat of Eren’s mouth enclosing around him and his whole body jerked and curled inwards. Zeke’s hands flew to his own hair and grasped as his toes curled, tugging roughly at the strands in distress.

This was so wrong.

This wasn’t what he wanted.

They weren’t supposed to touch, he didn’t want this.

...Did he?

Eren began bobbing his head tortuously slow, that wet slide of suction up and down. The dark curtain of his hair dragged over Zeke’s thighs and those fucking eyes wouldn’t stop staring at him.

Eren purposely dragged his teeth over his skin and Zeke jolted and groaned, the sickening pleasure pooling in his belly. His thighs shook terribly and he could taste bile in his mouth, at those wet, lewd, sucking sounds echoing loudly inside his head.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He loved his brother but this wasn’t what he wanted. He tried to tell him, it wasn’t, but his voice wouldn’t come. Tears pricked at his eyes and his hips bucked without meaning to, the feeling of being sucked down into that warm, moist cavern.

Eren swallowed around him, deep-throating, and Zeke’s bedroom warped around him sickeningly as he choked on a broken moan. His body curled around his little brother’s head and he pulled roughly at his own hair.

No

His legs started to twitch uncontrollably with the pleasure.

Don’t

The feeling was too familiar and he tried to stop it but to no avail, his balls tightening up against his body.

Please no

It grew within him, rising steadily and overwhelming him until he couldn’t hold it in, and Zeke bit hard into his lip, tasting blood as the wave swallowed him.

Idon’twantthisIdon’twantthisIdon’twantthispleasenononononononononono

The pressure in his groin released all at once with a desperate sob ripped from his chest and he came down his little brother’s throat.

Eren’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, easing Zeke gently through the pleasured tremors that wracked his frame violently. He released his cock from his mouth with a wet pop, drool and semen connecting them in strings. He gave his dick a final long lick from base to tip and Zeke was trembling and crying silently, disgusted and overwhelmed and unable to stop the shaky aftershocks.

Eren climbed on top of him, shoving him back and pushing his tongue into Zeke’s face, the mix of drool and cum dripping on to his lap. Zeke leaned away from him, face a mess of snot and desperate tears, but Eren held his head in place forcefully so he couldn’t shy away.

His other hand was spreading Zeke’s thighs and the blond’s limbs suddenly went lax, his vision foggy and voice still stuck in his throat. Eren was naked and his dick was hard and long and probing at Zeke’s hole, pushing in, and the blond’s mind went blank all at once.

Ah. This must be what he wanted.

His fingers and toes curled and eyes lidded as he succumbed, his body letting him inside. Eren slid in with a smooth thrust, the perfect thickness filling him, and Zeke’s eyelids fluttered and rolled back. His mind swam, tears clouding his vision.

Eren’s hand was at Zeke’s throat, wrapping around his neck and pressing down on his windpipe and Zeke let him. He deserved it. He spread his legs wider and moaned.

Eren’s hips started to move; slow, dragging thrusts, deep inside and Zeke felt wretched with pleasure.

He wanted this.

Eren’s remaining eye was wide and threatening, swallowing him whole and his hand pressed down on Zeke’s throat. Tighter. Tighter. And then he opened his mouth.

“Brother.”

Zeke’s eyes snapped open.

He was laying on his back in his bed, the sounds of the barracks stirring outside and sunlight streaming in through his window. His chest heaved with his breaths and he raised a shaky hand to his sweaty face, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

He was alone. His room was untouched and as it should be, glasses folded neatly on top of a book where he had left them before settling in last night.

Just a dream.

Zeke swallowed, his throat scratchy and dry as he sat up stiffly. He immediately paused, his eyebrows pulling together as he became aware of the feeling between his legs. Dread sunk thickly in his stomach as his lips trembled, forcing his hand to throw the sheets off his body.

The inside of his boxers were wet and sticky, soaking through the fabric and forming a stain on the front.

He gritted his teeth, rubbing his face with his hands and raking his fingers through his hair roughly.

He was twenty-nine years old. The last time he had a wet dream was when he was still a teenager.

He clutched at his head as his body shook, the overwhelming shame settling in.

Disgusting.

He was so utterly pathetic and starved for attention that even his little brother’s basic kindness had gotten him excited and panting like a bitch in heat. He was beyond fucked up.

Such a filthy whore.

He laughed bitterly, forcing himself to breathe through his nose and breath choking in his chest on a frustrated sob that he couldn’t suppress.

Zeke sat there in his bed for a long time, hunched over with his head in his hands until the shaking stopped.

His self-hatred was fathomless.

The preparations for the festival had begun and Liberio’s internment zone was lively with the sound of construction and excited citizens. The military also began their preparations to continue the Paradis mission and the warriors were called in to plan their strategy.

Zeke hadn’t been sleeping properly, too afraid to fall asleep in case another one of those dreams plagued him. He had dark circles around his eyes and his hand was noticeably unsteady when he lit a cigarette.

Reiner and Pieck noticed, but they didn’t comment, with Porco unaware as always.

Only Colt’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Are you alright?”

Zeke’s lips twitched sardonically. “Just marvelous.”

He invited Colt to play catch ball, lending him a spare mitt from the depths of his wardrobe. He had given his most precious mitt and baseball to Eren. His little brother had nothing to pass the time with, spending his days acting as a mute and traumatized patient and Zeke thought it might help a little. The items were incredibly precious to him, previously belonging to Ksaver, and Zeke couldn’t think of anyone he would rather give them to.

He received a distressing phone call from his grandmother one day. His grandfather had a mental breakdown at the hospital. Mrs Jaeger was terribly upset, crying on the other end of the phone and Zeke could barely understand her, so he hurried over immediately to comfort her. She told him that the doctors in charge of Mr Jaeger weren’t even sure why it happened. The old man had gone outside to talk to other patients as he often did and that was when he had broken down. He was to be institutionalized for the time being, Mrs Jaeger informed him in a shaky voice, sobbing into her handkerchief.

Zeke pulled his grandmother into his chest, rubbing her back soothingly. Mr Jaeger was old and his mind so fragile. Even the smallest things reminded him of his little Faye. Zeke felt helpless knowing there was nothing he could do, but these things happened. It was such a shame. His grandfather had been doing so well lately, too.

Friedrich was fucking him from behind one day, his leather belt wrapped around Zeke’s throat and pulling it tighter to choke him. Zeke was fading in and out of consciousness, the belt cutting off his oxygen. His erection was impossibly hard between his legs, rubbing against the pillow beneath him with every brutal thrust and forming a wet puddle on the fabric.

He was drooling and clawing weakly at the belt around his neck, choking pathetically as Friedrich tugged his head back by his hair. He was covered in sweat and his eyes rolled back, tongue lolling as the man’s dick dragged roughly against his prostate. He blacked out momentarily and came back in, vision fogging over, and he didn’t even notice that he had opened his mouth in a choked moan.

“E...ren...”

Friedrich’s hips stuttered jerkily, body suddenly tense and slowing.

Zeke was delirious, thrusting his hips against the air pathetically and cock bobbing and leaking, desperate for the man to continue. But the soldier’s grip was bruising as he grasped him, forcing him over onto his back.

Zeke bounced as he was thrown down onto the mattress, gasping as the belt loosened from around his neck and sucking in air. He was still painfully hard between his legs and he stared up confusedly at the man above him. He coughed and rasped, voice hoarse. “W-Why’d you stop?”

Friedrich was staring at him oddly, hair uncharacteristically messy and chest heaving with his breaths. ”What did you say...?”

Zeke’s stomach dropped with dread and his pulse was loud in his ears. What had he said? “Uh, I don-“

“Just now.” Friedrich’s dark eyes were scrutinizing his face, searching for something. He could almost see the cogs turning inside his head. “You said...‘Eren’...”

Zeke felt the panic rise within him, his fingers starting to tremble suddenly. His lack of sleep was weighing on him lately, causing him to slip up in places he wouldn’t normally. Disgusting, his mind told him. His throat was dry and he swallowed thickly, wide eyes looking up at him. “I didn’t.”

The soldier stared at him. His eyes shifted, looking off to the side for a moment. There was a pause as he opened his mouth and then closed it again, thinking deeply. “Who-...”

“No one.” Zeke said quickly.

Friedrich looked back at him, scanning his face. He didn’t even seem angry, he just looked... thoughtful. Maybe even fearful. Like he was on the verge of something, right on the precipice of realization and Zeke desperately needed to pull him back away from the edge.

Zeke swallowed again, a hand running through his wavy locks. “Sorry. I was... losing oxygen.” He tugged at the belt still around his neck, the angry red mark where it had choked him. “I don’t know what I was saying. Please keep fucking me. I was so close.” He forced his lips into a careless smile, his heartbeat deafening in his ears.

Seconds passed as Friedrich just stared at him, still searching for something in his expression. Like he knew he had all the pieces in his hands but was still just missing the key.

But they continued shortly after, with Zeke remaining on his back this time, his arm over his face. They thrusted against each other, loud, rough smacks of bare skin and the leather belt tightening around his neck until his hips jerked and he came in long spurts all over his stomach.

Friedrich released the belt from around his neck when they finished and Zeke lay there panting, eyeing the other man out of the corner of his eye.

Disgusting. Zeke shut his eyes tightly, willing the intrusive thoughts away.

Friedrich was quiet as they smoked their cigarettes afterwards, and quiet still as he adjusted his uniform and gun.

Even as they were called in for a meeting with Magath and the Warrior Unit, the man just stared at him suspiciously from across the room, deep in thought.

Zeke continued meeting with Eren over the following months as they planned their next move. The festival was approaching and they decided that would be the day that Zeke would fake his death, betraying Marley once and for all to be taken in by the island devils of Paradis.

Zeke struggled with looking his brother in the eye at times, nauseated with shame. Eren’s gaze was too intense, like he could see through him sometimes. Zeke forced himself to act casually, lighting a cigarette and offering one to his brother, who accepted. They pressed the tips of their cigarettes together to light it and Zeke avoided the intrusive thoughts. He loved Eren innocently as a brother should, but his fucked up mind betrayed him constantly, twisting and perverting his thoughts into things he didn’t want. He hoped Eren would never have to find out what a disgusting, fucked up person his older brother truly was.

Eren asked him about the Ackermans out of the blue one day. Zeke blinked at him curiously, fiddling with the baseball in his hands and told him everything he knew from Ksaver’s research. His little brother had gotten the strange idea in his head that Ackermans were controlled by their instincts; like slaves pledged to a master. Zeke laughed at the thought, telling him of the clan’s history, persecuted for the simple fact that they couldn’t be controlled. Perhaps the Ackerman girl simply likes you, he teased, but Eren didn’t seem as pleased.

Zeke bounced the baseball in his hand, clearing his throat, before asking Eren about Levi. His strengths and weaknesses, anything that could benefit him in a fight if needed. Eren spoke almost lowly of the man, that he cared deeply for his comrades and let his personal feelings taint his choices. Zeke sniffed and scratched at his ear, wondering if even Levi had someone that made him weak.

They decided on the date a few months from then to meet in Shiganshina District; the fateful day they would fulfill their euthanasia plan. They predicted that on the day of the festival, Eren’s comrades in the Scouting Legion would have no choice but to cooperate and come to get them, but would most likely separate the brothers. Zeke had directed Yelena and the Volunteers and Eren had already contacted the Scouts, forcing them with an ultimatum. Zeke was surprised when the younger man told him he had met Falco and was using him as a little messenger pigeon to send letters outside the internment zone.

Zeke adjusted his glasses, nodding slowly. He was soft towards Falco and Gabi and felt uneasy. The little candidate didn’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that, and they would certainly lose the trust of the Scouts by forcing their hand. But this was the only way. He felt a shiver run through his body. A tingle of excitement or perhaps fear, he wasn’t sure which, at the thought of facing the wrath of the monster Levi Ackerman again.

Eren would need to fight the Tybur family on the day of the festival, Zeke told him. It would be a declaration of war. They would officially become the enemies of the entire world, and their goal was to eat and inherit the Warhammer Titan.

As the day of the festival creeped closer, the upper brass of the military were suddenly cleared out from headquarters. It was gossiped about in whispers, that something big was happening. Zeke theorized that the Tybur family had arrived in Liberio and that Willy Tybur and Magath had something to do with it.

Zeke took advantage of the confusion and lack of Marleyan soldiers stationed around the building and broke into General Calvi’s office while he was away.

Zeke had given Eren all the information the military had on the Tybur’s, which wasn’t much. But the identity of the Warhammer Titan was not available to him even as Warchief, the family keeping it completely under wraps for decades. Zeke flicked through Calvi’s drawers of private files, searching through countless folders of classified information but came out with nothing, tutting in annoyance.

To think that even General Calvi didn’t know who the Warhammer was. Zeke was at a loss.

He sighed in exasperation as he exited Calvi’s office, shutting the door behind him with a deep frown darkening his features. It was possible that by joining hands with Willy Tybur, Magath knew who the Warhammer was. But the older man had looked at Zeke with eyes of suspicion for years and he was certain he wouldn’t be able to get any information from him.

Zeke chewed on the nail of his thumb, so deep in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice the heavy footsteps until they were almost upon him.

“What are you doing?”

Zeke startled as Friedrich approached him from down the hallway, military-issued rifle strapped to his back.

Fuck.

He felt like kicking himself for his own stupidity. He had been making too many mistakes lately; it was uncharacteristic of him. As his plan drew closer to becoming reality, it was like he was getting more and more careless by the day.

“Afternoon, Officer.” Zeke raised his hands in a mock-surrender, a bitter smile gracing his lips. “You’re looking very...” He eyed the rifle on the man’s back warily. ”...armed.”

Friedrich came up close to him, eyes dropping to his feet then roving back up again. Then he looked to the heavy, oak door behind him. “General Calvi was called away from headquarters. Why were you in his office?”

Zeke blinked at him and his mouth twitched. “Well, you see. It’s actually a very funny story. So I woke up this morning and there was this funny little bird outside my window an-“

Friedrich cut him off as he spun him around forcefully, slamming him hard against the wooden door.

“Ow,” Zeke complained, cheek squashed against the wood.

The man pulled at his arm, holding it at an angle against his back so he couldn’t struggle. His other hand slid up and down over Zeke’s body, patting him down and searching for anything hidden beneath his clothes.

Zeke had been unsuccessful in his search for the Warhammer’s identity and he supposed that turned out to be a good thing.

“Oh, Officer,” Zeke moaned exaggeratedly, squirming at his touch. “Not here, what if someone sees us?”

Friedrich seethed when he found nothing hidden on his body, reluctantly letting him go. Zeke breathed out in pained relief as he was released, rubbing at his sore arm and turning back around to face him.

The man was just staring at him strangely again, the same way he had in Zeke’s room. His eyes were wide and eyebrows creased as he searched the blond’s face and his voice was almost desperate when he asked him, “What are you trying to do?”

Zeke was so surprised by the man’s tone that his mind went blank. He blinked at him, struck momentarily with how sincere his voice sounded. He had never used that tone with him before.

“I...” The blond swallowed, unable to force a teasing remark. “Nothing.”

Friedrich frowned slightly, his expression an unreadable and complicated mix of confusion, of regret, and something else he couldn’t place. “You take me for a fool, don’t you.”

Zeke was unable to even respond, opening and closing his mouth again.

“What’s going on there?” Officer Koslow’s voice came from down the hallway.

Fucking fuck.

Friedrich must have seen the panic in his eyes. His gaze didn’t leave Zeke’s face. He just slowly opened his mouth, calling out in a steady voice, “Nothing, sir.”

Officer Koslow squinted as he approached them. “That you, Kellner?”

“Yes, sir.” Friedrich dragged his eyes away from Zeke’s face, turning to their superior and posture straightening as he saluted.

Zeke did the same, keeping his gaze low.

“General Calvi isn’t in.” Officer Koslow’s beady eyes fell to Zeke distrustfully, displeased at the mere existence of an Eldian in his presence.

“I know, sir,” Friedrich replied. “I was taking the Eldian devil to his room. Seems he’s too stupid to know where it is.” He didn’t even look at Zeke as he grasped his arm bruisingly, pulling him firmly in the other direction and Zeke tripped over his feet as he followed.

Officer Koslow seemed satisfied with his answer, nodding solemnly as he watched them go. “That’s the way, Kellner. These Eldians barely have any brains; better show him the way.”

“Certainly, sir,” Friedrich called over his shoulder, before lowering his voice to Zeke’s ear. “You owe me, you cockslut.”

Zeke side-eyed him curiously, thankful that the man seemed to care more about getting his dick wet than reporting suspicious activity to Marley. He sighed and rolled his eyes immaturely, imitating his voice. “CeRtAiNlY, sIr.”

And then the day of the festival was upon them.

Zeke felt strangely calm. He had spent so many years pretending to be loyal to Marley. He had lied to so many people. He had killed even more. And he knew he would continue to as necessary. All for the sake of peace.

He felt numb and quiet, serene, as he listened to the sounds of the festival outside. His and Ksaver's dream was finally about to become a reality. Just one last stretch and he and Eren would save the world.

As long as the plan for the festival went smoothly without too many miscalculations.

But he should have known.

There were always too many miscalculations.

Notes:

It was always a pet peeve of mine that Isayama went out of his way to show us that Magath, Pieck and even Colt were suspicious of Zeke‘s loyalty to Marley, and yet no one ever did anything about it. I always assumed it must be because there was no proof and because General Calvi was canonically very trusting of Zeke.

So that’s why I created this good sir, Friedrich Kellner, to explore that dynamic. Zeke was clearly not as discreet as he thought he was, if even Colt knew something was up. But the relationship I created to explore suspicion and manipulation kinda morphed and became just an excuse for me to write sexy times and Zeke getting fucked *distant stare*

I’m sorry, Friedrich. Your dick was meant for greater things.

Chapter 10: wound me

Summary:

The festival begins and Zeke’s plan goes awry.

Notes:

Warning for explicit descriptions of gunshot wounds and a lot of blood. Also Zeke gets spit-roasted, hohoho

On the day of the festival, Liberio’s internment zone was almost like a different city. It was loud and bustling, streets lined with colourful decorations and the sound of music, dancing and the smell of street food.

Magath called the warriors in for a morning meeting, to be briefed on the day’s schedule. They were required to be in their seats in the stands in time for Willy Tybur’s speech that evening, but other than that, they were free to enjoy the festival. Gabi, Falco, Udo and Zofia were positively thrumming with excitement, dragging Reiner along with them to try all the new foods they had never seen in the internment zone before.

Pieck dragged Porco to join her to do the same and he reluctantly agreed, and they convinced Colt as well, by offering him alcohol, to follow after them. Colt looked over to Zeke guiltily, shy and unsure about skipping out on training with him. Zeke huffed a laugh and shooed him away, and Colt’s face lit up as he trailed after Porco and Pieck. The festival was a once-in-a-lifetime experience after all and Zeke was feeling soft, the knowledge that in a few hours he would be leaving them all for good.

Magath and Officer Koslow had already left the meeting room and only Zeke and Friedrich remained, the other man frowning down at his documents in hand.

Zeke found himself thinking about the plan for the speech that evening. Eren would be murdering every significant member of the military by crushing them in the stands. There would be countless casualties, citizens and regular soldiers alike.

He didn’t know why he said what he did in the next moment. It was of no benefit to him or Eren, and in fact, much better for the plan to keep his mouth shut. But he found himself clearing his throat awkwardly and asked, “Will you be in the internment zone tonight to listen to the speech, then?”

The other man looked up at him boredly.

Zeke’s tone was light and joking. “I just know how much you adore us Eldians. I would just think you’d be better off staying away.”

Friedrich eyed him for a long moment, eyebrows creased. ”...I won’t be near the stage, no. I’ve been assigned to stand-by duty at headquarters. We’ll be listening to the speech by radio.”

Zeke nodded, scratching the back of his neck. He felt a sense of relief despite knowing he shouldn’t. “Well, that’s good. Wouldn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

He paused, not knowing what else to say. He shouldn’t have said anything at all, really. So he left the conversation there, avoiding the soldier’s eyes as he walked over to the door.

Friedrich’s eyes followed him and watched him leave, an unreadable expression on his face.

The festival itself wasn’t of particular interest to Zeke, just waiting as the hours ticked on closer. He threw a baseball against the wall and caught it again, playing catch with himself for a little while. But he started to get restless, checking his watch and adjusting his glasses with a sigh.

So he slowly followed the sound of music and smell of food, mindlessly wandering through the stalls. It dawned on him that this was the last time he would see this place. The internment zone he had been born and grown up in and spent his whole life. It felt so strange.

He bought some flowers and baked goods from a stall, wrapped neatly with a bow, and left them at the hospital where his grandfather was institutionalized, his grandmother staying with him there, too. But Zeke couldn’t bring himself to go in and see their faces. They would be safe there during Willy’s speech and they would find out and believe he was dead in just a few hours. It was better this way.

The festival was lively and Zeke watched as a clown juggled on stage without really seeing it, his leg bouncing with restlessness. It was midday, still hours to go until Willy’s speech. He could really use a quick fuck right now to get his mind off things and he briefly considered going back to find Friedrich. But with time ticking closer and closer to the fateful hour, he was afraid he would blurt something damning again while in the throes of pleasure. He couldn’t risk rousing that kind of suspicion.

So instead he took a detour down the backstreets, to the bars he used to frequent quite regularly in the past. He had been picked up and taken home by different men over the years and was sure he’d be able to find someone, the bars bustling and lively from the festival.

He ordered a jug of beer and settled in by the counter, removing his glasses and placing them in his pocket to rub at his eyes. He sipped at his drink and scanned the room, the chattering crowd celebrating this special day in Liberio.

There was a man on the other side of the bar who caught his gaze, eyeing him with subtle interest. Zeke scratched his ear, hiding his expression in his beer as he discreetly checked him out. The man’s dark hair framed his handsome face and his bright green eyes were intense beneath a strong brow. He had a larger frame and was much older, but he reminded Zeke too much of Eren. Zeke made a face without even realizing, focusing pointedly on his beer and avoided looking up again.

The reminder of his impure thoughts for his little brother dampened his mood completely and he chugged his beer in one go, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and scoffing bitterly. He ignored the other patrons and simply ordered another and another, gulping them down. He didn’t keep track of how many he had but it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t drunk in a while and he was feeling very tipsy already.

His vision was fuzzy and he felt hot and claustrophobic in the busy bar. He stumbled out from the back door for a smoke and the two men leaning against the wall outside looked up at him.

Their hair was cut short, one brunet and the other freckled and tanned, and as Zeke patted his pockets absently for his cigarettes, they offered him one of theirs.

Zeke accepted it gratefully and he blatantly eyed their muscular frames and large shoulders appreciatively, feeling no shame whatsoever in his drunken haze. He didn’t remember what he said exactly but he must have propositioned them. Because they looked him up and down amusedly and then to each other, before throwing their cigarettes onto the ground.

They went to a seedy inn down the street from the bar and as soon as they got through the door of their room, the two men had their hands on him, groping him through his clothes.

Alcohol was buzzing through Zeke’s veins, vision hazy, and he moaned into one of the man’s mouths as the other one cupped his groin, squeezing. They stripped off his coat and pulled off his pants and Zeke stumbled drunkenly and let them handle his body between them the way they wanted.

“Isn’t this the Honorary Marleyan armband?” One of the men eyed Zeke’s coat as it dropped to the floor.

“Can’t be. Why would the military’s dog be wasted and begging to be fucked in the middle of the day?”

“He kind of looks like the one in the Beast Titan.”

“The Beast always wears those weird glasses, though.”

Zeke could hear them talking through the haze in his mind, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

They were right. He didn’t even know their names. He was drunk and it was barely midday. No one would ever believe that Marley’s strongest Titan was actually such a pathetic mess.

The men’s chests and arms were firm and strong and they guided him easily onto the bed. Zeke wasn’t at all small or physically weak, towering at over one-hundred-eighty centimetres himself. But he adored the feeling of being handled and used and forced under another man’s hand.

They pulled and tugged at his underwear, sliding them off so he was naked except for his open shirt. They pushed him on all fours, one in front of him and one behind. The brunet in front unzipped his pants, drawing himself out and stroking it slowly into hardness. Zeke’s eyes lidded, his mouth watering at the size of it. The man rubbed it against Zeke’s lips, smearing pre-come all over. Zeke parted his lips and panted hotly, licking it into his mouth and moaning.

The tanned one behind him was groping his ass, spreading his cheeks and forcefully parting his legs. He used oil and started fingering Zeke’s hole, stroking his own dick with his other hand.

Zeke clenched around his fingers when they pushed into him shallowly and the man laughed and groaned. “Fuck, he’s tight.”

The man in front of him smirked heatedly, holding onto Zeke’s head as he guided it up and down over his cock.

When the man behind pushed his member inside, Zeke moaned muffledly around the dick in his mouth and arched his back wantonly.

The men cursed, laughing breathlessly at each other over the top of him. “What a slut.”

They began to move, rocking steadily between them, back and forth. Zeke’s eyes fluttered as he sucked on the thick member in his mouth, everything going blurry with the alcohol buzzing through him. His erection was twitching, untouched between his legs. The man behind gave a harsh thrust all the way in, jolting him forward and grazing that spot inside him, and he moaned muffledly as shivers ran all the way up his spine. He could feel himself drooling as he was rocked back and forth, the satisfying pain of being stuffed to the brim, spit-roasted and used.

The man behind him grasped Zeke’s thigh, raising it upwards so he could sink his cock in impossibly deeper. The man groaned and Zeke whined, his hips thrusting pathetically. He felt like an object, a pet, on his hands and knees with his leg being forcefully held up and open. His holes stretched wide and stuffed full, helpless as they man-handled him between them. His erection released a glob of pre-come, flushed dark and bobbing up and down between his legs with every thrust.

His skin was clammy with sweat, his jaw aching around the cock stuffed down his throat. The brunet in front was thrusting his hips, fucking into his mouth and Zeke could only drool around it and slide his tongue as the man panted heavily above him. He was releasing so much pre-come onto his tongue and Zeke moaned pathetically, knowing the man must be close.

The dick inside him was grinding into his prostate, rubbing and sliding against it over and over. It felt unbearably good in his drunken haze and Zeke’s nipples perked and body went tight. He choked around the cock in his mouth as the pressure within him released with a snap, taking him by surprise, and his dick between his legs convulsed, cumming in a long, drawn-out spurt.

The men laughed again, breathless with pleasure.

“Fuck, did he just...?”

“That was quick. Didn’t even touch him.”

The man in front of him cursed before tugging him by the hair as his dick popped out of his mouth. He came in thick spurts all over Zeke’s face.

Zeke shivered and moaned, his hips humping the air and spasming with the pleasure. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth at the feeling of warm splatters landing on his face.

The man behind was getting close, snapping his hips against his backside, his pace quickening in a steady rhythm and jolting Zeke’s body with each thrust. The brunet in front was still holding his head, easing himself through his release and smearing his cock over Zeke’s lips and face.

Zeke panted and groaned drunkenly, the constant rubs against his prostate making him twitch and overstimulated.

The man behind stiffened, his breath catching, then he cursed and shoved Zeke forward and the blond felt the hot spurts as the man came all over his lower back.

Zeke collapsed onto his front, his shaky knees giving out. The room was filled with the sound of their panting, the arousing smell of sex engulfing them. He felt relaxed and his limbs like jelly, the alcohol and climax and exhaustion making him pleasurably sleepy. He rolled over onto his back, the sticky semen still covering his skin and he threw an arm over his face as he breathed.

The two men simply zipped themselves up and ran their hands through their hair, and one of them scribbled something onto a card, tossing it lightly onto the bed next to him. It was a messy scrawl of their names and contact and they smirked at him obnoxiously.

“Let us know if you want to have your holes stuffed again. Maybe we’ll bring some more of our friends next time.”

They laughed and the door swung shut on their way out, the sound of their voices fading.

Zeke plucked the card between two fingers to glance at it before tossing it back down.

There was cum still drying on his skin and he needed to piss badly.

But he just furrowed his eyebrows disappointedly, almost pouting.

He would like to have his holes stuffed again, he thought absently.

What a shame he was leaving this place for good.

Days before the festival, Eren had told Zeke he wanted to meet with Reiner. Just to talk, for old times sake, he had said. Zeke was doubtful that was the real reason. But it was true that Reiner was too strong as the Armored Titan, too perceptive to Zeke’s lies, and they needed him out of the way. So Zeke nodded, scratching his ear idly, and told his brother to use little Falco. The boy would be able to guide Reiner beneath the stage to Eren without rousing Reiner’s suspicion.

Yelena’s role was to disguise herself as a male soldier and drop Porco and Pieck into one of the countless shifter traps around the city. Yelena was keen on the fake beard, joking that she should use it to pick up a nice lady. Zeke insisted that Porco and Pieck needn’t be killed; it would be difficult to do so anyway. Instead he prepared in the trap enough water and food for the two of them and even a toilet. He thought it would be funny but he was almost certain that Porco and Pieck wouldn’t. Even when the two of them were children, they never seemed to be as impressed with his toilet humour as he was.

The plan was for Zeke to arrive late at the battlefield, allowing the Scouts time to light up the pathway for the airship. Overcome by his countless enemies with no support from the other shifters, Humanity’s Strongest would cut Zeke down and escape to the airship and Marley would assume their Beast Titan was killed. As long as it was thought that he was dead and not a traitor, his grandparents would be safe.

That was the plan.

But naturally, everything went wrong.

Zeke left the inn and returned home for a long bath, feeling sated after his climax. As darkness fell, he strolled over to the main stage in the centre of the internment zone. The warriors and candidates showed up in small groups, still giddy from their time at the festival. Falco came running over as planned, smiling and out of breath, and Zeke encouraged Reiner to go with him, checking his watch.

All of Marley’s top Generals including General Calvi were gathered in the stands for Willy’s speech and the crowds were loud with restless and excited chatter. Ambassadors from across the seas, the richest families and nobles, journalists from around the world; they were all gathered in one place to see Willy Tybur speak.

They were at the centre of the world.

And they were all going to die.

Zeke’s pulse was thrumming in his wrist as he checked his watch again, settling in his seat and barely hearing the warriors and candidates chatting next to him. Yelena was right on time; just as the curtains were rising and Willy Tybur took the stage.

Yelena separated him from Porco and Pieck as planned, but he noticed that Pieck was looking between him and Yelena with an odd expression on her face. As expected of Pieck, he thought bitterly, but as long as Yelena succeeded in dropping the two of them in the trap, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Zeke strolled through the darkened streets lined with colourful decorations, away from the crowds and the sounds from the stage fading into the distance. The streets were quiet and empty and a cool breeze ruffled his hair. The only sounds were his footsteps on the pavement and the muffled, faraway voices of the stage.

Then all at once a horrifying roar cut through the silence, a flash of bright light and a thunderous crash that sent rumbling tremors through the ground. The pavement shook beneath his feet and Zeke stumbled and steadied himself, his wide eyes looking towards the direction of the stage.

It had finally begun.

Roaring smashes reverberated through the air as Eren’s titan dived into the stands, crushing thousands of rich nobles and military personnel. Zeke swallowed as he watched another flash light up the sky as the Warhammer transformed.

Zeke heard the faint screams as panic exploded in the streets and civilians began evacuating away from the stage. He faded into the backstreets, pressing himself into the wall and out of sight.

The ground was vibrating and quaking and Zeke stared down at his boots. The realization hit him all of a sudden that General Calvi was dead. He didn’t know why he had the urge in that moment, but he pulled the sleeve of his coat up to reveal the rope burns on his wrist the older man had branded him with. Zeke let out a long sigh as he promptly forced his body to heal them. Steam rose from the wounds as the marks faded and he rolled the joints of his wrists.

He was no longer Calvi’s dog.

And he no longer belonged to Marley.

There was a mighty roar and Eren’s body was pierced through by the Warhammer, on display in the air like a gruesome centre-piece to the city. People were screaming and running and Zeke looked up at his brother in the distance.

Please be okay. Just wait a little longer.

The ground rocked intensely with earthquakes as Eren fought with the Warhammer and Zeke could hear the loud booming gunshots of Anti-Titan cannons, gritting his teeth. It was surely Magath’s doing. The older man had always known that the age of titans was over and that there was no point in stealing Eren’s titan. Instead he intended to kill him.

Trucks filled with Marleyan soldiers were dispatched into the streets from headquarters, transporting them towards the stage to defend the city. There were explosions in the distance and buildings burst into flames. Zeke looked up as those familiar shadows flew on wires through the air above his head.

The island devils had arrived on time.

Zeke pressed himself further into the wall as the Scouts dropped explosives onto the trucks and the streets were consumed with fire. Engines exploded and they shot and killed the countless Marleyan soldiers escaping the wreckages, leaving their bodies lying in the streets.

There were more bright flashes in the distance, Eren transforming again, and the ground shook beneath Zeke’s feet, rubble raining down onto his head from above. He thought he heard Porco’s growl and the sound of machine guns from Pieck’s Panzer Unit, but that shouldn’t be the case. Unless something had happened to Yelena.

Zeke stepped out into the main street, burning and alit with flames from the destroyed vehicles, lighting up the darkness with death and destruction. His eyebrows furrowed and he checked his watch. It should be almost time. He removed his glasses and placed them in his pocket for his transformation. He raised his hand to his lips and opened his mouth, to bite down on the skin of his hand.

“You...” a voice came from behind him.

Zeke whipped his head around at the familiar tone and was faced with Friedrich.

The man had a large wound on his head, blood trickling down his face and into his eyes. He was holding his rifle in his hands and he stepped over a body of his fellow Marleyan soldier lying on the ground.

Zeke felt the wave of shock and sickening dread consume him. The man had told him he was stationed at headquarters for the speech, on stand-by and ready to be dispatched. He should have known.

Zeke had never wanted it to come to this.

The man’s eyes were wide and unmoving from Zeke’s form. “What the fuck are you-“

A loud roar from Eren’s titan and a gigantic crash interrupted him, the ground shaking violently and throwing them both off-balance. They both looked up in the direction of the sound before focusing back on each other.

Friedrich pointed in the direction of the stage, desperation on his face. “That Eldian noble, Willy Tybur, just declared war against Paradis-“

Fuck.

”-and on Eren-“

“Fuck,” Zeke said out loud.

”-Jaeger...” Friedrich’s eyes were wild and unseeing. He had finally found the last piece of the puzzle, clicking into its place. Perhaps he had always known but simply refused to see it. “Eren Jaeger. Eren. That’s what you said, when we were...” He trailed off, his pupils dilating. “He’s your...”

Zeke’s teeth cracked with how hard he was clenching them, rubbing a hand furiously over his face.

He had tried so hard, so things wouldn’t have to turn out this way.

“You did this...” Friedrich’s voice was shaking, his hands slack on his rifle and blood dripping down his forehead into his wide eyes. “I can’t believe I...”

Zeke knew it was his own fault. He had brought this on himself.

He felt wretched and helpless, his face scrunched and breaths short.

Friedrich was in great distress, babbling mindlessly. “I knew you would curse me, the moment I met you in that fucking castle. You’re all devils, every one of you.”

Zeke forced his breaths in and out, looking up at the man.

He didn’t want to do this.

“You deceived me. And I fucking let you.” Friedrich’s voice broke pitifully. “Your filthy mouth and your cursed eyes looking at me like... like...” he swallowed, trailing off. “I let you take me for a fool.”

He looked right into his eyes and Zeke saw the utter despair. “All for a filthy Eldian whore, no less.”

Zeke couldn’t bear looking in those eyes and he lowered his gaze to the man’s hands on his rifle.

He felt his throat closing up.

Please don’t make him do this.

Friedrich’s face darkened, his resolve hardening. It twisted into a vicious snarl as he slid the bolt on his rifle, loading the chamber. “I always fucking knew you couldn’t be trusted, you filthy Eldian scum...!”

Friedrich aimed his rifle towards him in one swift motion. Zeke’s face twisted in anguish, reaching his hand inside his coat and grasping his handgun.

There was a deafening crack and another almost simultaneously as they fired at the same time.

Zeke felt the bullet strike him, jerking his entire body backwards as he stumbled and fell hard on his side. There was a loud ringing in his left ear and the sounds around him were muffled, and he forced his body to roll over onto his hands and knees. A sharp pain was creeping up, searing and blooming outwards on his neck. He suddenly tasted blood, forcing its way up his throat and into his mouth, and he choked and spewed it out onto the pavement. A hand flew to his neck, eyes wide in shock.

Friedrich had shot him in the side of his neck, mere millimetres from his spine with a weapon specifically made to kill titans. Zeke gasped painfully, quickly forcing his body to heal itself, steam rising from him in billows. He gathered the blood inside his mouth and spit, his ear still ringing and blinking rapidly through his fogged vision. He jerked his head up to look at the other man, strings of blood and saliva still dripping from his lips.

Friedrich had let go of his rifle and it clattered to the pavement. His eyes were stunned and staring into Zeke’s, and he swayed lightly on his feet. Then all of a sudden he coughed, just once, a painful, wet sound, and dark red splattered from his lips. His hands rose to clutch at his throat before his chest hitched, caught on his breath again and he coughed up another mouthful of blood. He tilted and lurched, legs collapsing beneath him as he fell to the ground, his body twitching as it went into shock.

Zeke’s skin was breaking out into a sweat from the pain as he breathed loudly through his nose. If he had been hit any closer to his spine he would surely be dead. He still couldn’t hear anything in his left ear, ringing loudly and throwing him off-balance, and he stumbled awkwardly as he tried to stand up.

He grasped at his handgun with his shaking fingers, bringing it with him as he stumbled over to the other man, steam rising from his neck.

He came to Friedrich’s side, the sickening dread as he looked down at him. He had shot the man cleanly through the throat, a puddle of dark blood widening slowly on the pavement beneath his head. But he was still alive, his eyes wide open and pupils dilated, clenching and grinding his blood-stained teeth. They stared into each other and Zeke was frozen, wanting desperately to escape from those eyes that were condemning him.

Of course. He should have known.

Fate was this cruel.

This was the price he had to pay if he was to save the world.

Friedrich’s chest was heaving painfully as he struggled to breathe. He choked wetly, his face twisting in anguish. He opened his shaky lips, gurgling on the blood pooling in his mouth and straining to speak around the hole in his throat.

Zeke wished he would stop. What could the man possibly say to him now?

They weren’t friends or lovers. They had been simply using each other. For pleasure and for convenience.

Maybe they had both just been lonely.

Friedrich extended a hand towards him and it was shaking violently and stained with his own blood. He grasped at Zeke’s ankle.

“Ze...” His voice was a wet rasp, barely discernible and hitching with his breaths. ”...ke...”

It looked like it hurt.

There was so much blood.

The wound was fatal and he was going to die, an agonizingly slow and painful death.

Zeke let out the choked breath he had been holding in. He willed his fingers steady as he aimed his gun. The man was staring right at him and the look on his face fell to a calm resignation and Zeke shot him three times in the head.

Friedrich’s body went silent.

The sounds around him suddenly became audible. The screams of terrified people in the distance, the crackle of the city on fire, the crashes and roars of Eren’s battle with the Warhammer as the ground shook. Zeke’s breaths were painfully heavy, his fingers shaking around the trigger of his gun. He had to physically force himself to lower it. He just stared down at the man at his feet, lying in a pool of blood, his brain matter splattered onto the pavement.

Friedrich’s hand was still clawed at his pant leg and Zeke moved his foot away, using the toe of his boot to nudge the man’s face towards him.

He truly was handsome, that straight nose and angled jaw. Even while covered in blood like that with holes in his skull.

His last words had been 'Zeke'. It was the first time he had ever called him by his name.

Zeke stared at him, his eyebrows pulling together, before he eventually said in a voice that sounded unlike his own, “What a waste of good dick.”

He was silent then for a long time. He was already late. But he just continued to stare, his expression unreadable. Perhaps it was despair, or regret, or sorrow. But no one was there to see it so no one would ever know.

Zeke sniffed, wiping at the sweat on his face with his sleeve and pocketing his gun. The wound in his own neck was almost healed, blood dripping from his fingertips onto the pavement.

He turned around, in the direction of the stage. But he paused, his lips tight.

“Sorry,” he said to no one.

And no one said anything back.

Then he headed out towards the centre of the city, to his little brother who needed him. For someone else to find Friedrich’s body and for the island devils of Paradis to take the blame for it.

He was saving them all, he told himself. He was saving them from their pain and suffering, along with their future children who would never have to be born.

Zeke transformed into his Beast and finally arrived at the stage of the battle, but too much time had passed for it to be natural. Porco and Pieck had escaped their trap somehow and he snarled in frustration. Just another fucking thing gone wrong on top of the others. His hands were still shaking from his encounter with Friedrich and his mind was refusing to focus. He needed to keep the plan on track. Eren had been successful in subduing Reiner and Zeke was grateful that at the very least, he wouldn’t have to fight him too.

He was strikingly unsettled and on edge, Friedrich’s blood still staining his clothes, and he gritted his teeth and threw rocks at the Scouts much harder than he should have. They responded in kind and swarmed his Beast Titan but Porco and Pieck defended him. Even though he and the island devils were cooperating in this farce, it seemed they would never truly be able to get along.

There was a blinding flash and an explosion from the direction of the harbour - the Colossal’s transformation - and Zeke took it as their signal. He allowed Levi to cut him down with the force of a titan inside that tiny body, and as he fell in slow motion it dawned on Zeke foggily that Levi was not acting at all. His rage and violent savagery, his thirst for Zeke’s blood. It was all real.

Zeke screamed out in pain and instinctual fear as Levi sliced off his limbs, dragging him out by his collar from his titan’s body. The man threw down an explosive to disguise their escape and hooked himself onto the airship. He hauled Zeke by the neck and the blond choked and struggled, the stumps of his arms and legs flailing uselessly.

Levi threw him onboard with one rough motion and Zeke rolled and banged hard against the wall of the airship. “Fucking ow!”

Eren had eaten the Warhammer and joined them onboard shortly after and Levi was equally as violent with him too, kicking him across the face. The Scouts were as furious and distrustful of the brothers as they had predicted they would be, and Eren was tied to his chair while Zeke was left in the corner to regenerate his limbs.

Zeke was still tense and in shock over the countless things that had gone wrong in the plan, when the biggest miscalculations made themselves known. The two injured little candidates, Gabi and Falco were forced in front of him just to spite him and Zeke was barely able to hide his concern. The children were genuinely worried for him, thinking he had been taken hostage and that just made it even worse. He watched their expressions, dawning with realization of his betrayal.

He had never wanted things to turn out this way.

But Paradis now had the Founding and a Royal in their hands and the freedom of all Eldians was within reach. It was reported that Gabi had killed one of Eren’s comrades and Zeke watched his little brother from up-close.

Eren’s reaction was a strange, unhinged laughter.

But Zeke thought it looked more like tears.

Zeke’s limbs had regenerated by the time the airship landed on Paradis and Falco and Gabi were looking impossibly tiny. Afraid and betrayed like the children they truly were. Zeke tried to hide his concern for them behind a careless veneer but Yelena seemed to notice, sighing to herself.

He and Eren had lost the Scouts’ trust completely and were separated from each other, with Zeke being entrusted to Levi by their androgynous-looking bespectacled Commander. He was forced into a carriage, then into a horse and cart, transporting him to the legendary Forest of Giant Trees that he had only ever read about in books.

Zeke was certain that after Willy Tybur’s declaration of war, the combined forces of the world’s militaries would be coming to Paradis within half a year. With General Calvi and the other Generals all dead, Marley was not ready for a counterstrike any sooner. But things had not gone as planned, with Gabi and Falco witnessing his betrayal, and he was sure that Magath, Pieck and Reiner would be putting the pieces together. All their doubts and suspicions of Zeke over the years finally becoming clear.

He needed to see Eren. To make sure he was okay and to start experimenting with their abilities and physical contact. Zeke had only months left of his lifespan. It was his destiny to free all Eldians from their suffering. To save the world from their fear of the titans. He had murdered Friedrich for this goal; his blood still staining his clothes. What was the point of his death if Zeke couldn’t fulfill his purpose?

But Paradis was shamefully naive and so indecisive, separating him from his brother all because they couldn’t make up their fucking minds.

Then there was Levi with his dark eyes of simmering rage, the monster who wanted nothing more than to take Zeke’s head in his hands and slice his throat.

Zeke breathed out slowly, trying to focus on his book to no avail and reaching out his hand for his cup of coffee.

The date he and Eren had agreed to meet in Shiganshina was still a month away.

He still had time.

The tainted wine he had prepared was in place.

All he had to do was wait.

Levi strolled past him, sticking his leg out purposefully and promptly kicking Zeke’s coffee onto the grass.

“My bad.” Levi didn’t sound like he felt bad at all. “Didn’t see it there. Guess I’m just more of a tea guy, myself.”

Zeke blinked slowly, his arm still awkwardly reaching out for nothing, staring at his spilled coffee.

It was going to be a long month.

Notes:

I feel genuinely sorry for killing Friedrich but it had to happen! From the moment I created him I had already decided that Zeke would be forced to kill him at the festival. I thought it would be deliciously cruel and perfect for Zeke’s character.

But I read and adore every one of your comments (seriously I love all of you) and I noticed some of you were fond of him and I started sweating nervously like ‘oh shit he wasn’t supposed to be this likeable’

I became weirdly fond of him too the more I wrote him. He’s such a dick and is definitely a homophobic homosexual and that is very funny to me. Originally I was going to make him more sympathetic but I scrapped that idea because if he was too likeable then it would be too hard for me to kill him. But I think his existence and death will weigh heavily on Zeke’s mind despite what he tells himself. Zeke states in the manga that killing people is ‘saving’ them but I think deep down he does feel guilt. So Fried will surely appear again in Zeke’s flashbacks or memories.

Chapter 11: pity me

Summary:

Zeke arrives at the forest and tries to get closer to Levi.

Notes:

Warning for involuntary incestuous thoughts and cock and ball torture

Before arriving at the forest and during the transfer from carriage to horse and cart, their group made a few stopovers. To pick up supplies for the unknown amount of time they would be in the forest and to gather the soldiers that were to accompany Levi inside. Zeke watched patiently as boxes and crates were loaded onto the cart next to him. Barrels of water, canned rations, tents, spare blades and canisters of gas. He eyed the crates of tainted wine and leaned back casually.

Zeke asked if they would at least give him some books to pass the time. Their Commander hadn’t told them how long they would be guarding him in the forest, after all.

Levi allowed him exactly one book.

Zeke frowned down at the leather-bound cover.

Marvels of the World: The Forest of Giant Trees

“You can study up on your new hotel,” Levi taunted. “And just how stupid it would be for you to try anything in there.”

Zeke then proceeded to ask for a number of things he believed they should provide him with in his new hotel.

“I’d like my own cup, I don’t want to share.”

“I only drink coffee. Tea is for gross people.”

“A cushion for my ass, please. It’s quite delicate.”

The trees of the forest were truly gigantic and Zeke gaped up at them in awe as they arrived at the tree line. It would be extremely difficult for his Beast Titan to maneuver inside, while very easy for the Scouts in their 3D-gear. Levi made sure to remind him of such.

While on the airship, Zeke was questioned about Ragako Village, again on the carriage and again as they entered the forest. Zeke knew what Levi was trying to do. By asking him the same things over and over, he wanted to test his story and catch him slipping up in any lies. But Zeke had been lying to the people around him for his entire life and it was second nature to him by now. He recited the lines that he had said countless times before and would countless times again: his spinal fluid was converted into a gas and released onto the villagers, who after breathing it in would immediately start to convulse, become paralyzed, then fall unconscious. As long as he kept repeating this simple lie, the truth behind the wine would not be found out.

They eventually arrived in a large clearing and Levi instructed them to set up camp, and Zeke watched as the crates filled with bottles of wine were unloaded from the cart. The soldiers were thrilled to have the opportunity to try such a high-quality Marleyan alcohol. Only high-ranking officers were allowed such a privilege. They had no idea how long they would be stuck in this forest and it was these small blessings that made it bearable.

Levi squinted down at the label of the bottle in his hands, reminding Zeke of an old man with struggling eyesight. Levi almost didn’t allow his subordinates to drink during their duties, but they complained so animatedly that he grumbled and finally gave in.

Zeke found it hard to take his eyes away, stepping down from the cart and onto the grass. Humanity’s Strongest was not the heartless, cold veteran he had imagined. He was surprisingly soft and easily swayed by his subordinates. It was exactly as Eren had told him. Zeke was confident that he could use that weakness against the older man, by having those same subordinates consume his tainted wine.

The soldiers began to set up tents around the clearing with a small fire at the center of their camp. Levi was unpacking tins of assorted tea leaves and Zeke wrinkled his nose and scoffed, before disguising it quickly as a cough.

The blond sat down on one of the crates by the fire, letting out a sigh and looking around at the scenery he was stuck with for the next month. He glanced towards the tent closest to him, pointing to it. “Is this one mine?”

Levi ignored him, frowning down at the labels on the tins he was holding.

Zeke was unperturbed. The tent was at the center of the camp and visible from all directions, so he took that as a yes. “So where’s yours, then?”

Levi’s eyes slid slowly over to him. “Won’t be needing one. You think you deserve privacy? You won’t be able to take a shit without us breathing down your neck, beard-face.”

”Oh,” Zeke said. He tilted his head, pondering for a moment. “So we’ll be sharing, then? How romanti-agh!”

Zeke’s entire body flinched as Levi almost crushed the tin in his hands.

Once the camp was set up, the soldiers were assigned shifts. Levi would be guarding Zeke personally as often as possible, but the others would be on rotation, armed with rifles at all times.

On that first day they arrived in the forest, the first thing that happened was Zeke fucked one of the soldiers.

He asked for permission to go take a piss and a young male soldier accompanied him away from the clearing. There was a nearby stream that flowed through the forest before widening out at the tree line, and Zeke took note of which way it was flowing to make a mental map of their approximate location.

Zeke then proceeded to unbuckle the soldier’s pants instead of his own.

The soldier was newly recruited, innocently youthful and made the cutest noises. So Zeke sucked his dick then pulled him down onto the grass and rode him, his cock bobbing as he bounced on the boy’s reclining lap.

They were found out immediately of course.

A few soldiers came to check on them, rifles at the ready, and they gaped in embarrassment and shock.

“Ugh,” is all Zeke said, his dick hard and flushed red, the young man beneath him still buried deep inside him. “Least you could do is let me finish.”

Naturally, Levi was furious, violently beating the young soldier before dismissing him immediately from his duties.

Zeke just watched amusedly as he sat near the fire, his head resting in his hand.

Normally he preferred older men, but there was something very fun about messing with younger ones. They were so easy to manipulate.

Levi had a deathly, dark cloud over his head and a murderous look in his eyes and when he stormed over to him, Zeke’s smirk immediately dropped. Levi seized him by his collar and wrenched him up and Zeke flinched and shut his eyes, putting his hands up in a surrender. “Wait, wait, wait...!”

He shrank back and body recoiled as it prepared for the pain, but the violence never came.

Levi just eyed the red marks on Zeke’s neck with pure and utter disdain, before shoving him roughly back in his seat.

After that ‘incident’ on the first day, Levi started vetting the soldiers thoroughly. The only ones allowed in the forest with him were men and women he had chosen personally and Zeke counted thirty in total. He breathed out in a long sigh, leaning back.

Thirty was both a lot and not too many. He supposed he could handle thirty.

Levi was now glaring at him murderously from across the fire, not that he hadn’t been before. But since that ‘incident’ on the first day, he looked at the blond with a very specific type of disgust. Zeke absolutely adored it.

The next time he asked to take a piss, Levi stared down his nose at him for a long moment, thinking. Then he assigned a female soldier to accompany him.

The female soldier scrunched up her face at Levi, clearly repulsed by the idea.

“Don’t make that face. Do your fucking job,” Levi barked at her. “He likes dick. He’s not going to try anything.”

“He’s right, I do like dick,” Zeke nodded solemnly, turning to the female soldier. “I assure you, Miss, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Except maybe being forced to catch a glimpse of my monster coc-ah, hot!“

Levi had moved to draw his blades and Zeke flinched automatically, spilling hot coffee on himself.

Zeke did his best to cover himself from the young female soldier as he awkwardly peed against the tree.

The thirty soldiers guarding him were on rotating shifts, either on their feet with their rifles ready or sitting around the fire during their breaks. Zeke watched them drink his tainted wine and tried to flirt with the men casually to pass the time when he wasn’t reading his book. But these soldiers had been intensely vetted by Levi and were not responsive at all, just glaring at him darkly. The soldiers were stationed on the floor of the forest as well as in the trees above his head, rifles in hand and following his every movement carefully for any sign that he was about to transform.

Zeke had no intention of doing such a thing, boredly returning his attention back to his book. Not yet, at least.

Levi watched him from across the fire, his strong body seemingly relaxed, but ready to strike him at any moment. No matter whether Zeke was reading, sipping at his coffee or munching loudly on his food, Levi remained there, silent and watching with eyes impossibly dark.

Zeke felt the man’s gaze on him always. His body knew innately of the danger he was in, sitting so close to raw power and the crippling, instinctual fear threatened to swallow him. His instincts were screaming at him to run, that he could not win another fight against this monster.

Zeke had no desire to fight him again. The traumatic memory of last time made him nauseous.

But his body thrummed with something else as well, an exhilaration and arousal, that someone could be so powerful, could hate him so much, that it made him cower in fear.

Zeke was a god who held the power to save the world. Yet Levi made him tremble. Who was capable of such a thing, except a monster or a god slayer?

As much as Zeke feared him, he wanted to be torn apart by him.

The feeling was confusing and shameful, and painfully arousing.

He was so fucked up in the head.

The blond hid his anxiety well, willing his fingers steady. He sighed in irritation, not reading the words on the page in front of him. “Don’t look at me like that, Levi,” he drawled flatly. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

“Hey,” a soldier to his left barked. “That’s Captain, to you.”

“Captain?” Zeke raised his eyebrows at the soldier before turning back to Levi. “Mm. I don’t know. I think Boss suits you better.”

Levi didn’t respond, just glaring in silence.

Zeke blinked at him. It was difficult to get a reaction from the older man, no matter how hard he tried to clown him. “So when will you let me see Eren?”

Levi shifted his leg, dark eyes unmoving. ”...I told you, that’s not up to me. You claim you give a shit about Eldia, but you’re not meeting with the brat unless we know that for sure.” He tilted his head back, looking down his nose. “If it were up to me, you’d already be dead.”

Like that wasn’t obvious enough already, the blond thought. He frowned. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime, then? Just wait for you to make up your minds?”

“You have a book, don’t you?”

“Mm, yes. One book. And I’m halfway through it already.” Zeke flicked through the pages absently. “I think I now have more knowledge about the structure of trees than I would ever care to know. Did you know that in this forest, there’s a species of flower that looks exactly like a dick?” He looked up at Levi. “Do you think we can go see it?”

Levi just wrinkled his nose, remaining silent.

Zeke huffed an amused laugh. The lack of response made him want to push him more. “Well. If you’re not going to let me go see the dick-flower, you could at least entertain me. You took my boy toy away from me, too. I was looking forward to having more fun with him.” He looked at the other man pointedly. “How will you make it up to me?”

Levi’s eyes narrowed to slits.

The blond tilted his head, smiling crookedly. “You’re exactly my type, you know. Older man. Unique face. Authoritative and dominant.”

Levi’s face scrunched disgustedly, the implication clear. He stood up from his seat, heading towards the horses and gesturing for the other soldiers to take his place. “Go fuck yourself.”

Zeke just sighed exasperatedly. “I’m trying, but you won’t let me go see the dick-flower!”

Levi would wake Zeke up with a rude kick every morning at dawn. Depending on the position Zeke slept in, he would take the direct hit in different places. The better days were when Levi would kick him across the face or in the side. Zeke could handle a nosebleed or bruised ribs. The worst days were when he would sleep with his legs open and Levi would wake him with a kick in the balls.

Zeke would jolt awake from the excruciating pain and his body would curl in on itself automatically, clutching at his burning crotch with tears welling in his eyes.

“$#%$&??!!”

The sounds he made were largely indecipherable.

Levi sneered down at him curled into a ball inside the tent. “Stop fucking whining. Not like you were using them anyway. Last thing this island needs is your royal beard-faced brats running around.”

Zeke snorted uncontrollably despite the pain.

How fortunate that his entire ideology was based on the fact that he never wanted any fucking children, ever, even if it fucking killed him. He would rather die than become a father.

Levi’s words were truly funny to him and he started snickering, the aching, throbbing pain in his groin making him nauseous. His chest hitched as he wheezed with broken laughter, eyes watering from the searing burn between his legs and the hilarious madness of it all.

Levi stared down at him in alarm. “The fuck’s so funny?”

Zeke couldn’t breathe, disjointed gasps of pain and bubbles of manic laughter, and he rolled back and forth inside the tent. He craned his head to look up at the other man, tears in his eyes. His crotch was aching terribly and sore, but it was fading into a dull throb that almost hurt in a good way.

He wondered if Levi would ever be able to understand him. His desire for a peaceful end of their people. No more children forced to suffer, born from selfish, unfit fathers.

He wanted to be understood. He wanted to be honest with him.

But as he looked into Levi’s eyes, he saw the violent repulsion and misunderstanding and knew that it would never be possible.

He sighed pleasantly. “It’s nothing, Levi.”

It took Zeke a few days to finish reading his book. He didn’t want to start it again right away, so he pushed a few crates together and draped himself over them, beginning to chat with Levi. The man was a blank wall however, so he was really talking at him rather than to him. It was easier for Zeke to disguise his fear for the man when he babbled on and on. Pointless nothings and observations and flirting that he pretended was only a joke.

“So you still won’t let me see my brother.”

“Still don’t see any reason to trust you, so why should I?”

Zeke tutted, frowning. Then he brightened. “You could fuck me.”

Levi’s entire body seemed to shrivel in revulsion.

Zeke looked genuinely disappointed. “Or I could suck your cock,” he offered. “I’ve been told I’m very good at it. That tends to happen when you suck as much cock as I have. One man told me I’m even better at it than a paid whore. I thought that was quite sweet of him, although he had his dick in my ass when he said it.”

Levi was squinting at him in disbelief. He managed a low, “...You’re disgusting.”

“Hmm...” Zeke frowned. “Yes, he said that, too. I think he meant it as a compliment though, but now I’m not so sure."

Levi blinked slowly, incredulous. He seemed to be at a loss for words. So he just stood up from his crate and began to walk away.

Zeke frowned deeper, sitting up abruptly. “Why are you leaving me?”

“I need a piss.”

“Oh. Can I watch?”

“Read your fucking book.”

Zeke pointed finger guns in his direction. “Or you could fuck me.”

But Levi had already walked away.

He finished reading through his book for the second time. It had been about a week since they arrived in the forest and Zeke could have sworn that Levi was almost responding to his banter.

But that all changed one day. It was his own fault, really, for bringing up the subject. He had just wanted the man’s attention.

Zeke was sprawled on his back on top of the crates and had a hand in the air and finger extended, as if he was gracing them all with his philosophical musings.

“-and then another time, there was this guy with a dick - no exaggeration - the size of my whole arm. It had this curve to it and I honestly thought I was going to piss myself, it was so big. Especially when he rubbed up against my-“

“The fuck are you talking about?” Levi snapped, interrupting.

Zeke looked over to him, miffed that the older man hadn’t been listening. “Cocks, Levi. I’m talking about cocks.” He shuffled loudly in his seat, sitting up to look at him properly. “Have you ever taken cock, Captain?”

Levi sent him a withering glare.

Zeke just continued, unbothered. “I'd highly recommend it. Ten-out-of-ten. Would do again.”

He waited patiently for Levi’s reply, but the man didn’t show any indication that he had even heard him. Zeke huffed. He wanted the man to acknowledge him. His instincts warned him to stop; not to poke the bear with a stick. But he ignored it and pushed harder. He feigned a sudden realization.

“Oh wait, I remember. Eren told me about the late Commander Handsome. Mr. Erwin Smith. I heard he was quite the good-looking man.” He looked at Levi pointedly. “I never saw him from up close though, only from afar...”

Levi’s body had stiffened immediately. The movement was barely noticeable, but Zeke saw it. He watched the older man’s face, devoid suddenly of any expression. His eyes were focused on Zeke’s but they were hollow, staring motionlessly straight ahead.

Zeke felt his lips twitch. It felt satisfying to have the man’s attention. He pushed harder.

“Did he fuck you or did you fuck him? Can’t decide which one I’d prefer to see. Either way sounds... enticing.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

He waited but there was no response. Levi stared at him blankly. His eyes were unsettling with how empty they were, his body far too still for it to be natural.

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows, irrationally irritated. He couldn’t stand it. The words grated over his tongue forcefully.

“There’s an appeal to the thought of such a masculine and brave, dignified man such as your late Commander, bending over for another man and taking his co-“

“Stop talking.” Levi’s voice was like ice.

Zeke knew instinctively that it was a deathly warning and his body immediately obeyed, snapping his mouth shut. He felt the jolt of fear, swallowing as he looked down to Levi’s hands, poised to draw his blades at any moment.

Levi’s tone was calm and quiet. “You speak about him again and I slice your throat.”

Zeke could almost feel it, pressing into his neck and breaking the skin; the commanding, threatening blackness of his voice assuring him that he meant it.

The blond forced a huff of laughter, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple. He raised his hands in a mock-surrender, but his body betrayed him with how much his fingers shook. “Excuse me.”

It was the first time he had ever received an actual reaction from Levi. An emotional response and not a curt dismissal.

It was clearly a sensitive subject. Eren had told him just as much. Zeke knew of the Ackermans from Ksaver’s research and their history of serving the royal bloodline, but he knew they weren’t slaves the way his brother had thought.

They were protectors. Experiencing love intensely with their entire beings.

An Ackerman and his Liege.

Zeke frowned to himself, feeling almost jealous.

Zeke was plagued with terrible dreams ever since he arrived in the forest. The nightmares were nothing new, but usually his tobacco or herbal drugs helped to keep them at bay. Here in the forest he only had a single pack of cigarettes that he was to spread out over the entire month, and he allowed himself to smoke only a little every few days.

During the night, sometimes Levi guarded him from inside, leaning back against the wall of the tent. Other times, he sat right outside by the fire. But Zeke could always feel his stare, pricking at the back of his neck.

Zeke tossed and turned constantly with restless sleep, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. He often dreamt of the faces of the people he killed - nameless masses he murdered with his rocks, turning them all into human mush. He stumbled dizzily through the streets of Liberio, the sounds of festival music loud in his head. He tripped over bodies of soldiers lying on the pavement, grabbing at his feet as he walked past. He saw General Calvi with his leather gloves and rope, sliding his hands down the bumps of his spine and mouthing ‘Wonder Boy’ into his neck, right before he was crushed to pulp in the stands.

He dreamt of Friedrich with his handsome face and strong body, pressing him up against his bookcase. The man thrusted his hips inside him, the shelves rocking and creaking behind his head. Zeke groaned, pulling the man closer and wrapping his legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. Zeke’s erection was trapped between them and he pressed his forehead against the man’s shoulder, gasping breathily as Friedrich wrapped his hand around it, rubbing the tip with his thumb.

Zeke had longed to be wanted by someone. Even if it wasn’t out of love. Even if it was just in a dream.

“Zeke.”

The man’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle and the blond opened his eyes in shock, turning his head to look at his face.

But he saw the bullet hole in Friedrich’s throat and three more in his skull. Part of his head was missing and there was so much blood sliding down his face.

Zeke’s voice broke, stiffening fearfully and shoving at his chest.

All he had longed for was to be wanted by someone. And then he had gone and killed him.

Friedrich grasped at his hair firmly, not allowing him to turn away. He looked Zeke straight in the eyes and blood was staining his lips as he rasped through the hole in his throat.

“Zeke.”

He was still inside him, thrusting slowly and pumping Zeke’s erection with his other hand. His face morphed horrifyingly in his vision until it became Eren’s, blood still streaming from the bullet holes in his skull.

Zeke knew it was just a dream. But the fear was still real.

Eren kept rubbing him in his fist, his other hand wrapping his icy fingers around his throat. Eren’s eyes were burning him to ashes and everything about him resembled Grisha too much that Zeke felt pure panic and a desperate sob erupted from his chest.

“Zeke.”

Someone said his name again but his vision was blurring over and he didn’t know whose voice it was. Was it Eren’s? Or Friedrich’s?

Or was it Grisha’s?

Then Zeke’s eyes blinked open and he was inside his tent.

It was the first time he had woken up on his own without Levi kicking him awake. The vivid images from his nightmare were fading quickly as he eased back into reality, but the fear and panic still lingered in the corners of his mind.

He turned his head to his left to where Levi was sitting and staring at him.

He swallowed, tone flat and tired. ”...What a pleasant sight to wake up to.” His heart was still pounding in his chest and he felt nauseous. Like he wasn’t in his right mind.

Levi ignored him and simply told him, “You said Eren’s name in your sleep.”

Zeke just stared at him. The familiar panic rose within him. He forced a fake smile. “Well. He’s my brother. I’m worried about him and I miss him.” He hoped his voice wasn’t shaking. “Don’t all older brothers love their younger brothers?”

“Mm. ‘Love’.” Levi looked thoughtful, the corner of his lip twitching up. As if something about that was very amusing to him. “Maybe a little too much 'love'.” His eyes dropped to between Zeke’s legs.

The blond followed his gaze, looking down.

He was erect, the front of his boxers protruding out.

Zeke felt his head go hot, blood flushing his cheeks with utter shame. He moved immediately to cover himself with the blanket but Levi blocked it with his boot. Zeke breathed heavily with embarrassment, tugging at the sheet in confusion.

Levi sneered and simply slid his boot forward, resting it against the bulge between Zeke’s legs. “Go on. Tell me again how innocently you love your brother.”

Zeke was so ashamed, gritting his teeth and grasping at the man’s boot to push it away. But Levi pressed it down purposefully, squishing his genitals beneath it and Zeke couldn’t manage proper words. “Mmggh...!”

“Oh, I know,” Levi taunted cruelly, imitating the blond’s words from days before. “’Did he fuck you or did you fuck him?’”

Zeke squirmed distressfully and panted, the sharp squeezing in his testicles making his eyes water. He gasped shakily, the pain unbearable. “Le-...let go...!” He tried to lift the man’s boot with his fingers but Levi just pressed down harder.

“Or let me guess,” Levi continued, increasing the pressure. “You just wish he fucked you.”

Zeke felt like a child again, being chastised. Painful tears started to spill over and he shook his head in denial. He didn't. His hips jutted upwards without meaning to, rolling into the intense pain, and he whimpered as the shock of pleasure shot up his spine. The feeling of his balls being crushed was nauseating and he felt his dick get even harder.

“Eren is a brat but he’s not a depraved pervert like you. Does he even know you’re drooling for his dick inside you?”

“I don’t...!” Zeke gasped in pain, his head falling back and dribbling tears and snot. Disgusting. He clamped his eyes shut. The pain was agonizing, a tortuous squeeze that was getting progressively tighter and tighter. “I wouldn’t...!”

“So you say.” Levi drawled. He kneaded his foot roughly just once and Zeke humped up uncontrollably against it, arching into the torture. “Yet here you are moaning in your sleep. Fucking disgusting.”

Zeke clawed at the sheets beneath him and his voice broke with gasping hiccups. He had already been hard when he woke up and it didn’t take much at all for him to be pushed over. He rubbed himself up against the man’s boot, unable to stop his hips, and he sobbed and eyes fluttered as his head went blank and came inside his pants.

The brain-melting pleasure of his orgasm was mixed with that unbearable pain, and it was so confusing and sickening that all he could do was cry silently as his hips kept moving against the man’s foot, wringing out every spurt.

“Yeah.” Levi grimaced down at him, looking utterly repulsed. “That’s what I thought.”

There was drool at the corner of Zeke’s mouth, eyes out of focus, and a large, wet stain was spreading out slowly on the front of Zeke’s boxers as he twitched with aftershocks.

Levi released his boot from Zeke’s groin, pulling it back and the blond gasped weakly with relief. Then he swung it forward and kicked the blond hard between the legs.

The sound Zeke made was indescribable. It was like he had broken.

His entire body spasmed, the pleasurable orgasm and the agonizing, piercing pain in his groin blending together as he let out a pathetic mix of a moan and wretched howl. There were fat tears running down his face and his stomach heaved, feeling like he would puke from the pain. He gagged loudly and coughed, drooling onto the ground and hunching over.

Levi just scowled down at him.

“Pathetic trash.”

He stood up and exited the tent swiftly, leaving Zeke there trembling and curled into a ball, his face a mess of drool and tears.

The blond’s breaths were pathetic hiccups as he struggled to take in oxygen, gagging again as he almost threw up. He found he was snickering again, disjointed and painful hitches in his chest. He didn't know if he was laughing or crying.

He supposed he deserved this, after killing their late Commander and disrespecting him. After killing so many of Levi’s comrades. Knowing what Levi was truly capable of doing to a man, this was kind in comparison. Gentle. Almost like pity.

He deserved it. He longed to be wanted by someone yet also yearned to be hurt by them. Zeke was disgusting, pathetic trash who had killed so many, and he arched into the torture as much as he feared it. Levi was the only person who could give it.

When he finally emerged from the tent into the sunlight, he had stripped his clothes and had the blanket wrapped awkwardly around his waist. A projectile came flying towards his face and he fumbled and barely caught it, dropping the blanket.

It was soap for washing clothes that Levi had hurled at his face.

“Wash your fucking clothes and cover your goddamn dick. You smell like shit.”

Zeke knew he had no right, but he wished he could have been protected and devoted to by someone, just like this Ackerman had to his liege.

He breathed out slowly, his eyes ringed with red. “Sure thing, Boss.”

Zeke knew then that if anyone was going to kill him before the end of his lifespan, he wanted it to be Levi.

Notes:

I will never stop laughing about that cushion Isayama drew under Zeke’s ass in the forest. Why is it there? Who gave it him? Did he complain about his ass being sore so they gave it to him to make him shut up? Why is he such a stupid hoe

Chapter 12: forgive me

Summary:

Zeke struggles to understand Levi and his mind becomes weak as he waits.

Notes:

There are some references in this chapter to Bauer, the mob character from chapter 2 of this fic. Kind of dubious consent because even though Zeke slept with him willingly, he was almost always on drugs when with that gross piece of shit.

There’s also explicit descriptions of body hair and shaving. No idea if that makes some readers uncomfortable but just in case.

Also a warning for very, very violent sex - literal stabbing, slitting throats, a lot of blood etc., all during a sex scene. Please read at your own risk!

Zeke was on his third read through of his book.

He watched as the bottles of tainted wine were slowly being emptied one-by-one, the soldiers indulging themselves every evening, gathered around the fire. The naturally curious part of him that took after Ksaver wondered what would happen if an Ackerman drank it - this clan of monsters who were already part Titan. But Levi wasn’t interested in drinking alcohol at all, instead only drinking tea that he brewed painstakingly carefully. Zeke thought it a shame he wouldn’t be able to add to Ksaver’s research.

He found his mind wandering often to Gabi and Falco, but Levi refused to give him any information on their safety, let alone their whereabouts, no matter how much he tried to probe. Time was ticking away. The world’s military forces would be gathering on the island soon, yet Paradis was still stalling on their decision to let him and Eren meet. Even more than the children, he was concerned for his brother, but he could only assume Eren was safe and confined somewhere and would use his abilities to come meet him when it was time.

He and Levi didn’t talk about what had occurred between them in the tent days ago. Zeke was grateful for that, still feeling horribly ashamed. It was almost as if they were even now. Zeke had crossed the line by talking about his liege and Levi had paid him back by humiliating him. They settled back in to their usual routine, with Zeke trying to clown the older man and Levi mostly ignoring his antics. It was as if it had never happened.

But Levi’s disdain for him was still there. Zeke felt it in his every movement, every glare. He now had firsthand experience in what the older man was capable of doing to him, both on the battlefield and off. But Zeke was drawn to him regardless, his power both terrifying and arousing.

Zeke wanted him. This monster in the form of a man. A decade older than him with kindness and experience that Zeke could never understand. He wished he could be important to him and to have his full attention. In another life, if he hadn’t killed their late Commander, could Levi have attached to him? An Ackerman and his royal liege. He knew it was pointless to think about the impossible but he still found himself wanting.

As the days went on, he wondered when Levi managed to sleep. Every time he looked at the older man, he seemed to be aware and glaring in Zeke’s direction. Perhaps Levi took short naps while the blond was also asleep, but there was no way of knowing. Levi would never allow him to see him at his weakest.

Zeke often felt bored during the day, his legs painfully stiff from sitting and reading the same words over and over. He would stretch his body across the crates and yawn exaggeratedly, rolling back and forth. He would purposely stand in Levi’s direct line of sight and do squats and lunges, grunting unnecessarily loudly and trying to meet his eyes. Levi would squeeze his mug so hard that he almost crushed it. Zeke would then quietly sit back down.

They allowed Zeke to be in charge of the fire, boiling water for the tea and coffee and even stirring the stew. The chance of him sabotaging the food was low, as long as he was eating from the same pot as the soldiers. Zeke felt like a bored little house-husband. If only he had a cute apron, he thought idly, and then he would feel really pretty.

Scouts came and went regularly from the forest by horse-back, bringing updates to Levi about the political state of the island and their pregnant queen. Probably with updates about Eren, too. But Levi purposely received the reports in the trees above his head and out of earshot. As much as Zeke strained to hear their conversations, he didn’t know what was going on outside the forest.

Another soldier departed by horse-back after receiving Levi’s orders, and Zeke sighed to himself, unsuccessful once again at overhearing any news of his brother. He doodled absently on stray sheets of paper boredly, as Levi flew down by his wires from the trees to land heavily on the grass near him, eyeing Zeke suspiciously.

Zeke didn’t even look up. “Welcome back, Boss,” he drawled, pointing to the sheet of paper he had left on Levi’s crate. “I wrote you a poem.”

Levi turned to it and scowled at its existence. He took a step forward and picked up the single sheet with his thumb and forefinger.

You stare at me all night as I’m sleeping,
And wake me at dawn with a kick,
I’ll brew your tea the way you like,
So please let me suck your dick.

Levi squinted down at it.

Zeke’s handwriting was atrocious. The only thing he could clearly make out was the unnecessarily detailed penis drawing in the corner.

Levi scrunched it up and threw it into the fire.

“Hey!” The blond was positively offended. “That took me five hours!”

The brief walks he took to the stream for toilet breaks, baths or to wash his clothes were the highlights of his day. It was the only time he had a change of scenery.

Zeke would emerge from the tent in the mornings with his nose in the air and announce to the entire camp, “I’d like to take my morning poop, please.”

Levi escorted him away from the clearing and leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms and simply watching him boredly. The blond pulled down his pants and squatted, but he noticed Levi staring at him.

Zeke just blinked at the older man. He might be a bit of an exhibitionist but that didn’t mean he had no shame at all. He couldn’t poop while the man put him on the spot.

“...Stop staring at me like that, you’re making me shy.”

Levi didn’t acknowledge him at all, simply raising his eyebrows disinterestedly as he waited.

Zeke frowned, shuffling gingerly in his squat position. He scrunched his face and tried to push. But Levi was staring right at him and it made him nervous.

He squinted awkwardly. “You know, normally the situation feels a lot sexier, when I’m staring a man in the eyes as something goes in my ass.”

“You mean out your ass,” Levi replied flatly.

Zeke snorted uncontrollably. “Ha, you’re right-” He cut himself off as he looked down between his legs, his sphincter suddenly relaxed with laughter. “Oop, there it goes.”

Zeke had started reading through his book for the fourth time. It barely kept his attention; he had practically memorized the words by now. He chatted to Levi whenever he could, blabbing on and on, wanting to know more about him.

“Tell me about yourself, Levi.” He rested his chin in his hand as he lay on his side on the crates, grinning at the older man expectantly. “Who is ‘Levi Ackerman’?”

Levi ignored him, leaning back and sipping from his mug of tea.

“Oh, I know,” Zeke perked up. “What was your first time like? Was he older or younger? Or wait, were they of the more, umm... female persuasion?” He waited for Levi’s response, smiling at him eagerly, but the older man looked utterly bored. Zeke nodded sympathetically. “Ah, say no more. You’re right, I agree. Vaginas are yucky.”

Levi squinted at him over the rim of his mug.

“Women are lovely people, of course,” Zeke crossed his arms, nodding thoughtfully. “Just... can’t get past the whole... you know. Coochie. ” He lowered his voice and his body shriveled, as if he could barely say the word. “Ugh. Don’t put it in there - that’s where babies come from. Gross.”

Levi had lowered his mug and was just frowning at him.

Zeke continued, knitting his eyebrows. “Is it true they can fit multiple eggs up there if they wanted to? Years ago, little Annie and Pieck told me it’s true.” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, talking mostly to himself. “I’m starting to think they were just making fun of me, though.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Levi snapped, leaning over to refill his mug.

“Oh, sorry.” The blond blinked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Lost my thought for a moment there. What was I...? Oh, right. First time.” He clicked his fingers and pointed them at Levi expectantly, but the man just continued sipping at his drink. Zeke was unfazed, just taking it in stride. “Right, I’ll go first then.”

He cleared his throat, thinking. “My first time was...” Zeke trailed off and paused suddenly, his face going stiff. He swallowed thickly, the eager smile slowly fading. “I didn’t actually want to do it, but... I was drugged up.” His voice sounded uncharacteristically small and distant. “I was seventeen. He was a disgusting old man.”

There was a silence.

Zeke broke it with a sudden huff of laughter. He shook his head, in disbelief at himself. “I don’t know why I just told you that. I’ve never told anyone that.”

Levi’s eyes were studying him carefully, shifting his leg. But he didn’t seem angry. ”...It’s not so uncommon in the Underground. Happens to lots of kids.”

Zeke looked up at him in mild surprise, smiling lopsidedly. “Are you trying to comfort me? That’s sweet.”

“I’m telling you that you’re nothing special.”

Zeke let out another burst of odd laughter, running a shaky hand through his hair. “It was a long time ago.” He stared at the ground without really seeing it, a forced smile on his lips. “It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

He wondered if Levi could tell that was a lie.

He was allowed to have a bath in the river every few days. Considering that he was being confined and watched out of distrust, Zeke thought it rather kind of them to let him bathe so often. It probably had something to do with Levi’s strict hygiene habits.

One of the soldiers escorted him to the river and sat leaning back against a tree, polishing his blades and napping as he guarded over the blond.

Zeke stripped off his clothes and glasses and slid into the river, scrubbing himself down with soap. He lay on his back in the shallow water and stared up at the cloudless sky. It was refreshingly cool and he stretched out his arms and legs, the clear water shimmering and rippling around him.

He scowled. He was horny as hell.

The last time he had sex was more than two weeks ago, with the young soldier on the first day they arrived. They had been interrupted so he didn’t even get to finish. He wasn’t used to going this long without getting himself off. The incident with Levi in the tent didn’t count.

Zeke threw a curious glance towards the soldier guarding him. The man wasn’t looking in his direction, and he knew he probably wouldn’t have any luck seducing one of Levi’s personally chosen men. But he shrugged carelessly. No harm in trying.

He slid a hand down his chest slowly, over the muscles of his stomach and down between his legs. He took himself in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it and closing his eyes as he stroked it lightly. The water lapped softly at his body as he rubbed at the tip with his thumb, his toes curling at the feeling. His other hand pinched at his nipple before going further down, spreading his legs slightly and circling his hole. He scrunched his eyebrows as he probed lightly inside, letting out a soft moan.

“Get your hand off your fucking dick.”

Levi’s voice made Zeke jolt harshly, snapping his eyes open as his head went under the water’s surface. He choked and splashed, jerking himself upwards into a sitting position as he coughed and spluttered wetly.

“Christ, Levi.” He used his knee as a support as he pushed himself onto his feet, wiping at his face and rubbing at his sore eyes, water dripping from his nude body. “Where’s the other fellow who was just here? I was hoping he’d fuck me if I moaned loudly enough.”

“I told him to take a break.” The older man eyed his body up and down but his gaze wasn’t amorous. He seemed indifferent to his nakedness, simply observing. “You need a shave.”

Zeke gasped, covering his beard protectively. “No!”

“Not there.” Levi scowled at him. “I mean everywhere else, you hairy fuck. It’s unhygienic and you smell like shit.”

Zeke peered down at his own body, his pubic and armpit hairs grown out wildly in the time he had been stuck in the forest.

“Oh.” He looked back up at Levi, an eyebrow raised and scratching at his underarm idly. He didn’t attempt to cover up his nudity at all. “What, are you going to give me a knife? I thought you didn’t trust me.”

“I don’t.” Levi strode towards him, stepping into the river without hesitating and coming up close. The water splashed with his heavy steps and he stopped right in front, peering up at him.

The height difference was enormous yet Zeke still felt intimidated, preventing his body from flinching or shying away. He blabbed without thinking, trying to disguise his nervousness. “If you’re going to fuck me, the least you could do is kiss me first.”

Levi narrowed his eyes and seemed to lean forward threateningly.

Zeke startled, taking an unintentional step back away from him. “...I was joking, I don’t actually want to kiss you, Captain.”

“I wasn’t going to, you ignorant fuck,” Levi snarled, grasping the side of Zeke’s neck roughly and shoving him downwards.

The blond resisted, but the older man had his blade drawn near his exposed dick and was much stronger than he looked. Zeke’s legs buckled beneath him and he sat down heavily with a splash.

Levi glared down at him.

Zeke just blinked nervously, looking up and realizing he was at eye-level with the older man’s crotch. “I feel like this escalated very quickly.”

“Shut up.” The older man knelt down in front of him.

Zeke wasn’t sure if he should be disappointed that he would not, in fact, be showing the man his dick-sucking skills. He still had no idea what Levi was doing though and leaned back away from him, tensing impulsively with fear.

Levi grasped his arm firmly, lifting it up and Zeke went stiff, still resisting.

“What are yo-“

“Hold still,” Levi griped, adjusting his blade, before using it to begin trimming at the hairs under Zeke’s arms.

Zeke blinked in confusion as it sunk in what Levi was doing. He had never expected this and he simply snapped his mouth shut.

Levi didn’t speak either, settling into an almost comfortable silence. The only sounds heard were the soft ripples of water and the faint scraping of his blade. He trimmed the hairs close to the skin before letting go of his arm and switching to the other.

Zeke raised his other arm obediently, completely perplexed and just frowning lightly, not knowing what else to do.

“Spread your legs.”

“W-what?”

Levi just glared at him murderously and Zeke did as he was told.

His whole body tensed as the sharpness of Levi’s blade made contact with the skin between his legs. He shut his eyes and prepared for the worst, but it didn’t hurt at all. The older man simply began shaving off his pubic hair.

Levi was professional about the whole thing. There was nothing lewd about his touch. He was clinical and detached, his stokes efficient and hands steady, holding him in place. He didn’t touch him any more than was necessary, simply removing the hair between his legs until his skin was hairless and smooth.

It was gentle, Zeke thought dazedly.

Zeke was familiar with the feeling of being shaved between his legs. Not by his own choice, but because Bauer, the rich noble whom he slept with regularly for large amounts of cash, preferred him to be that way. Zeke supposed it probably had something to do with the fact that he liked Zeke to look young and hairless. Regardless, he was used to the feeling of being held down and shaved, trembling as he struggled to keep still.

Bauer used to massage cream into Zeke’s pubic hair, onto his balls and around his hole. He would tell Zeke that he wasn’t allowed to get hard, otherwise it would be too difficult to shave him. But the cream must have had something mixed in it, because it always made him feel strange and tingly down there. Bauer’s touch would linger too long, would stroke him and tease and touch all over, and it would feel so good that Zeke’s cock would inevitably twitch and start lifting towards his stomach. Bauer would chuckle fondly and scold him for being a ‘naughty boy who couldn’t behave’, then spank him and fuck him until he cried.

The memories were too vivid; too clear in his mind. Zeke had been meeting with him once or twice every year, receiving large sums of cash and being shaved hairless and smooth every time. The man disliked Zeke’s beard in recent years, and when Zeke would stay over at his mansion for days at a time, he would shave that, too. Zeke hated it. How young and innocent it made him look, and how naïve and lost it made him feel. The man was truly a disgusting old pervert. Zeke had countless memories of being drugged up by him over the years, passed around to other rich nobles like a sex toy and fucked silly that he wished he could forget. The man made him feel wanted, but it was always twisted and sexual and he felt cheap and used afterwards, like a dirty handkerchief.

Bauer had been present at the festival in Liberio, in the stands when Eren had crushed them, and Zeke was glad he was dead. He would never be able to take advantage of another lonely, young man, desperate for affection ever again.

But the feeling of his pubes being trimmed was so familiar, and he was so used to what normally came next that his body associated the feeling of being shaved with being fucked. His penis got hard almost instantly, twitching and lifting up, even though Levi’s touch was not intended to be sensual.

It didn’t mean anything to Levi. Zeke was unwashed and overgrown so he let him bathe and trimmed his hair. That was all. Like he was grooming a pet.

But to Zeke, it was gentleness and it was kindness. Despite everything he had done. Zeke couldn’t understand it. He knew sex and he knew war and violence. But he didn’t know this. It felt like being looked after and cared for and it made him flustered and confused.

Zeke’s cock hardened and roused with excitement, and Levi’s blade paused as he scowled at him in pure disgust.

Zeke flushed all the way down to his neck and shoulders. “Can you do my asshole, too?” He attempted to laugh the embarrassment off as a joke as he always did. “Maybe pop a finger in while you’re down there? Just a quick one, in and out.”

Levi pinched at his few remaining pubes, tugging them harshly.

“Ow ow ow oww, okay, okay...!”

Levi finished shaving the last section of hair and when he was done, Zeke blinked down at himself. He rubbed at his pubic mound with the pads of his fingers, the smooth and hairless skin feeling soft to the touch.

The older man was adjusting his blades and straightening and Zeke looked up at him, his voice stuck in his throat and unsure of what to say. But he didn’t manage to get any words out because Levi pulled his leg back before round-kicking Zeke in the head.

The blond crashed into the water with a loud splash, flailing and emerging with a painful gasp as he spluttered.

“Fucking-...!” He coughed and wiped his eyes. “Ow...!”

Levi was muttering about ‘disgusting fucking beards’ as he stomped out from the river to dry himself off by the tree.

Zeke rubbed at the bump on his head with a frown as he watched the man stalk away.

He stretched out his arms and legs, falling back into the water with a splash.

He would never be able to understand Levi Ackerman.

He still felt flustered and strange, his hairless groin tingling and itchy, making him even more horny than before. Everything was so confusing. He let out a frustrated whine and splashed his limbs around, like a child having a tantrum.

Then he reached down to grasp himself, still half-erect. He hoped Levi was listening and made sure to masturbate extra loudly, just for him.

He lost his glasses one day. ‘Lost’ was an exaggeration as he had only misplaced them temporarily. But he was so jittery lately from nicotine withdrawal and the worsening nightmares every night that he almost had a panic attack.

He had only taken a brief break from reading to take a piss. But when he returned he couldn’t find his glasses. They had just been there. He lifted his book and cushion and put them down again. Then he circled around his crate. He lifted his cushion again. His fingers had started to shake. His glasses were his only connection to Ksaver. The only thing he had left. Where were they? He ran his hands through his hair frustratedly and grinded his teeth, stomping around the crate again. He threw his cushion on the ground and searched frantically.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Levi snapped at the mess he was making, refilling his mug.

Zeke didn’t even look at him. “M-my glasses, I can’t find my...”

The older man just frowned at him, turning his head to the crate on the other side of the fire and pointing. “They’re over there, beard-face.”

Zeke froze and followed his finger, rushing over to them resting innocently on the crate opposite to him.

Levi watched him curiously. ”...Why do you even wear them if you don’t need them?”

But Zeke wasn’t listening, breathing out in relief as he sat down heavily, rubbing his hands over his face.

Levi wrinkled his nose and went back to sipping his tea.

Zeke had a nightmare that night. He dreamt that Ksaver found out he lost his glasses and had gotten so angry with him that he abandoned him. He was left alone and Bauer had taken him home and forced him into bed, even though he kicked and struggled. He cried and screamed for Ksaver but there was no response. It was his fault for losing his glasses. He deserved to be abandoned.

Friedrich came to save him, sweeping him off his feet, but for a reason he couldn’t understand, Zeke shot him three times in the head. He just lay there, his empty eyes staring at him.

Zeke woke up with tears running down his face, but the dream had already faded and he couldn’t remember why he was crying.

Zeke smoked half a cigarette, stale and old from days ago. His fingers were shaking terribly with withdrawal symptoms. He was irritated and jumpy, the terrible dreams haunting even his waking moments.

He was reading through his book for the fifth time and he couldn’t focus on it at all, his leg bouncing impatiently. His mind kept getting distracted, refusing to focus on the words on the page and instead being drawn away by the movements of the soldiers in the background. A thin trail of smoke rose lazily from his stale cigarette and he fidgeted and looked down at his feet.

That was when he noticed a bloodstain on his pant leg.

He froze immediately, his leg going still. He stared at it. The blood had gone dark with age and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before. Friedrich had grabbed at his leg with his shaking hands as he died and his blood had stained the fabric, soaking into the fibers. His dead body had probably been discovered weeks ago, bullet holes in his throat and skull and his hands still reaching out for him. There were probably maggots and flies picking at his eyeballs and Marley would have cremated him at a military funeral, blaming the island devils for murdering one of their own.

But the island devils hadn’t killed him. It had been Zeke.

The man had covered for him so many times and he had sounded so betrayed that night. He had been cruel and mean, but he had lusted for Zeke, had wanted him, and Zeke had wanted him back. And then he had killed him.

But life was meaningless. Not just for Eldians. To live means endless suffering and loneliness. Even for him. When he killed him he had actually saved him.

Hadn’t he?

Zeke’s stomach churned, his head feeling hot and fuzzy and a horrifying feeling consuming him. He snapped his book shut and stood up abruptly.

He approached one of the soldiers, mumbling that he wanted to wash his clothes in the river and started walking away from the clearing before they even answered. He stripped off every item of his clothing, kneeling down by the water’s edge and started lathering soap and scrubbing at his pants, a crazed look in his eyes.

He scrubbed and squeezed and rubbed at the fabric desperately, but the bloodstain just wouldn’t disappear. He had left it too long and the blood clung to it permanently. The intrusive thought overcame him, that Friedrich was surely cursing him, but he pushed it down and just rubbed at the fabric even harder. He was breathing loudly through his nose, the stale cigarette damp and still hanging from his lips. He was getting increasingly more frustrated; no matter how furiously he scrubbed, the blood just wouldn’t go away.

Ksaver would be proud, Zeke told himself desperately.

Living means to suffer and it would be better not to have been born at all.

He was saving them all.

He hadn’t killed Friedrich, he had saved him.

He had saved him.

He had saved him.

Hehadsavedhimhehadsavedhimhehadsavedhimhehadsavedhimhehadsavedhimhehadsavedhimhehadsavedhimhehadsavedhim

“Why the fuck are you always naked,” Levi’s voice came from behind him.

Zeke whipped his head around, his eyes wild, dropping his pants into the water. His chest rose and fell heavily with his breaths and his hands were rubbed raw and red. He forced a shaky smile, sucking at his old cigarette and blowing the smoke out. He forced the words, grating through his teeth. “I suppose I just figured you enjoyed the sight of tall, naked blonds.”

Zeke didn’t know why he said it. He knew better but he wasn’t in his right mind. He couldn’t stop his hands shaking and he wanted to be punished. He needed to feel something. He needed someone to look at him.

The words were spilling from his lips, overflowing and bitter, and he couldn’t stop them.

“Don’t you?” His voice trembled. “I mean, you fucked your previous Commander because you’re an Ackerman and that’s what Ackermans do. Even though he wasn’t of royal blood.”

It should have been Zeke. He was royal. In another life it should have been him.

Levi’s face remained calm, but his legs started moving towards him.

Zeke couldn’t stop his own mouth, babbling frustratedly. “It’s a shame I killed him. I would have liked to meet him. But I killed all of them.” His voice was quivering and he moved to stand up. “Why did they charge towards me, anyway? Did they think it was brave? They were stupid, really. What did they think would happe-”

Levi’s eyes went murderous as he approached with swift steps and he wrenched Zeke’s hair, preventing him from standing and shoving him face-first to the ground.

The blond grunted as the wind was knocked out of him, and he scrabbled to get up, but Levi pressed a boot into his back and forced him back down. He stood over him and drew his blades, and Zeke craned his head to look up at him, panic rising as he tried to squirm away. But Levi didn’t hesitate, swinging his blade in one swift motion and stabbing Zeke through the hand, pinning it to the ground.

Zeke cried out as the sharp pain shot up his arm. His eyes were wide with fear and his other hand scrabbled and scratched at the metal blade, trying to push it up and out. He swore and panted wildly, his fingers stuck in a stiff, painful claw as blood began seeping out from the wound.

Levi grasped at his hair, tugging it back roughly and exposing the line of his throat. His upper body lifted off the ground with the motion and he gasped in pain, the wound in his hand being split open wider.

He was horrifyingly vulnerable, naked and pinned down with his throat exposed. But his mind was so twisted that the fear and pain was exciting, and his dick began to harden slowly. He wanted the man just as much as he was terrified of him.

Levi scowled, seeming to notice, and he slid a rough hand down the front of his body. His fingers scraped over the smooth, hairless mound of his pubic bone and wrapped around his cock, giving it a tight, painful squeeze and scratching with his nails.

Zeke winced and gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

“I should cut off your dick,” Levi’s voice was horrifyingly dark, right in his ear. “So you can’t enjoy this.”

Zeke forced a huffed laugh, body breaking out into a sweat. “W-what if I transform?”

The man released him and he fell face-first back onto the ground with a muffled groan. Levi’s hand slid down between his legs, digging his fingers harshly into Zeke’s taint.

“You won’t,” Levi told him. “Because you love this.”

The blond jerked at the feeling, his dick twitching and moistening at the tip. His fingers and toes dug into the ground beneath him.

Levi pushed his fingers in, massaging them aggressively into that sensitive area and Zeke groaned and arched his back.

“I saw how much you enjoyed killing them back then. Turning it into a fucking game.” Levi picked up the cigarette that had dropped from the blond’s lips, pressing the burning end into Zeke’s neck. “I would kill you if I could.”

The cigarette hissed as it seared him and the blond cried out and his spine went taut, arching into the pain as he scrabbled at the ground. A round burn mark appeared on his skin, red and angry, and steam began to rise from it as it healed.

Levi simply pressed it in again, burning him and jabbing his fingers into his taint with his other hand, and Zeke choked on his breath and struggled, gasping for air. Levi held it there until the embers faded, then he flicked it away, drawing his other blade. Zeke panted as steam rose from his body, but he wasn’t allowed time to heal.

Levi stabbed his blade into Zeke’s ribs.

It pierced through his bone and into the soft organs underneath and Zeke screamed out in pain, clawing at the ground, but Levi pressed him down with his boot so he couldn’t escape. The pain was agonizing and Levi twisted the blade, and he heard the sound of his ribs cracking and cried out again. Zeke tasted blood and he coughed up a mouthful of it onto the grass uncontrollably, his body beginning to shake with painful tremors and his vision going blurry. Levi pulled the blade out and he spat out more blood, billows of steam rising from him as his body healed, fading in and out.

Zeke could hear the man fiddling with something behind him and he jolted sharply when he felt something probing at his entrance. It forced its way in, thick and long and stretching him widely around it. Zeke gaped and whimpered and his eyed rolled back as it thrust all the way inside. Strings of blood were dripping from his lips and he kept coughing up more, delirious with the pain, and he twisted his head back weakly to look behind him.

He was being fucked by this monster. He had wanted it so much.

But when he looked back, he saw that it wasn’t Levi inside him. It was the handle of his blade.

“What’s the matter,” Levi taunted. His eyes were cruel and vicious, like empty black holes. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”

Tears started to roll down Zeke’s face and he whimpered softly and blubbed.

Of course. After everything he had done to Levi’s comrades. This is what he deserved.

Levi thrusted the handle inside him harshly, the rough edges sliding against his insides and making him whine and his body jolt. It hurt terribly, in his cracked ribs, in his burned neck, stabbed hand and torn entrance. The handle scraped brutally deep, up against his prostate, and Zeke’s knees shook and cock dribbled pre-come onto the ground between his legs.

Levi’s other hand was pressing his perineum, digging in with forceful rubs to stimulate his prostate from the outside.

Zeke was shuddering uncontrollably from the sensations, his cock so hard it hurt. Levi kept puncturing the handle in and out, in and out, dragging meanly against his prostate, and every time he did it would make Zeke’s cock twitch and drool.

His head was hazy and he was fading in and out from the agonizing torture. He was wheezing painfully from his punctured ribs, barely able to breathe, dark blood oozing from his lips as his face pressed into the grass. There was a thick pleasure swirling in his groin, building and rising, mixing with the pain and making him feverish.

It was so perfect. He wanted to cum and he wanted to escape and he also wanted to die by his hand.

Levi pressed himself down against Zeke’s bare back, leaning over him and pulled his blade out of Zeke’s palm. His other hand was still thrusting the handle inside him roughly, and he jostled Zeke’s head up, placing the blade against his throat.

Zeke’s body shook uncontrollably, the cold metal pressing against the skin of his neck as his eyes lidded, vision blurry with tears.

"I will never.” Levi’s voice was truly that of a monster. “Forgive you. For the things you’ve done.”

Zeke’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His limbs went weak, succumbing to him, not even attempting to fight back. His head was clear and he opened his shaky lips, his voice reverent, like he was begging. Like he was praying. “I know that.”

Levi pressed the handle deep inside him, hard against his prostate. Right as he sliced his blade across Zeke’s throat.

Zeke felt pure ecstasy as he choked, blood filling his throat and mouth and he spewed it out onto the grass. He moaned but it sounded more like a painful, wet gurgle, and his cock convulsed and splattered white onto the ground in thick spurts.

His hips thrusted against nothing as his orgasm consumed him, trembling pleasurably and limbs jerking uncontrollably with the pain. His body was healing simultaneously, steam filling his vision as he coughed and vomited more blood.

He was vaguely aware through the pleasurable spasms that Levi was stroking himself quickly, releasing hot splatters onto Zeke’s lower back with a soft grunt of pleasure. Zeke whined weakly at the feeling, his toes and fingers curling into the ground.

Levi pulled the handle of his blade out of him with a squelch, and Zeke jolted and trembled. The man left him there to heal, laying limply on the grass, shuddering in pleasure and covered in painful wounds and choking on his own blood.

As Zeke faded into unconsciousness, he saw Levi washing his blades in the river. He wheezed painfully and his breath caught on another mouthful of blood, steam filling his vision.

Zeke knew he would never be forgiven.

He could never take back the things he had done.

And that’s why he had to keep going.

For his brother’s sake and for Ksaver, he couldn’t stop now.

Notes:

The fandom’s portrayal of Zeke as a dominant sex god will never stop being funny to me. *takes a deep breath* CanonZekeHasNeverSeenAPussyInHisLife

There, I said it.

Chapter 13: baptize me

Summary:

Zeke says farewell to Levi, the forest and to his current body in order to birth something new.

There was a thick tension between him and Levi in the days following.

Zeke knew he was lucky to be alive. Levi truly would have killed him then, bare and vulnerable by the riverside, and the only reason he hadn’t is because his superiors hadn’t given him permission.

Levi could have decapitated him, sliced or crushed his spine easily. Zeke would not have been able to regenerate from a wound like that and died right there, without achieving anything. His and Ksaver’s plan gone to waste. Zeke had been stupid to provoke him like that, knowing what Levi was capable of and how much he ached to kill him.

But instead the man had given Zeke mouth-watering pain and torture, just the way he had wanted. Even that was kind of him, in a twisted way, Zeke thought bitterly.

They didn’t talk about it, obviously. Levi was not a talker in general and although Zeke was the opposite who never shut up, everything he ever said was a lie or of no importance. When it came to emotions, he ran from them out of fear, turning them into a joke.

Whatever it was that happened between them, it would never be explored, going with them to their graves.

Zeke lit a new cigarette, allowing himself to smoke only half of it. He breathed in the nicotine, deep into his lungs, and it calmed his shaking fingers almost instantaneously. He took a few puffs before extinguishing the flame and placing it back into its box for later.

The memory of it still excited Zeke as much as it embarrassed him. The feeling of humiliation, completely naked and vulnerable under the man’s boot. Having his throat slit and choking on his own blood as he came, with all of Levi’s attention on him. It made Zeke shamefully hard.

He would remember it while taking baths in the river, reaching down to touch himself beneath the water. He would finger himself until he was squirming and flushed, releasing with a moan and sinking his body deep below the surface in an attempt to cool his body down. He would stroke himself quickly at night under the covers, trying to keep his voice down as the older man guarded him from outside. He spurted into his fist with a quiet, pleasurable groan, looking down at the mess on his hand.

He would feel the rising shame and wallowed in his self-hatred, before wiping it all away.

It had been more than three weeks since they arrived in the forest and the day he and Eren had agreed to meet was approaching.

His worsening nightmares and nicotine withdrawal had made him embarrassingly weak that day, practically begging for someone to look at him. He had been truly pathetic. Levi's treatment of him had snapped Zeke out of it and given him new resolve. He would never be forgiven for the things he had done, nor did he need to be. He would become the god that would save them all. He would euthanize his people and ensure no more children would have to be born into this suffering.

He was not wrong.

Levi still watched him from across the fire as always, and he wondered if anything had changed for the older man.

Probably not. Levi would never understand him or even try to. And he was sure of that now.

Zeke was on his sixth read through of his book.

He was simply going through the motions of reading it, his mind not taking in the familiar words any more. Zeke felt the intense, awkward tension between them, like something had changed since that day by the river. But the older man didn’t show any difference. It probably meant nothing to him.

Levi sipped at his drink, holding the mug in that strange way of his. “You were talking in your sleep again.”

Zeke gripped his book tighter. He smiled strainedly. “Oh?” He tried to keep his voice steady. “What did I say this time? Is the great Levi Ackerman going to humiliate me again?”

The older man ignored his comment, just staring at him carefully. “You said ‘Fried’. Is there another Jaeger I should be worried about?”

”...No.” Zeke looked up at him in surprise. “No, he’s just my...” He swallowed thickly. What was he to Zeke? “No one. He’s dead now. I ki-...” He cut himself off, pausing. “He’s no one.”

Levi’s eyes looked like he could tell he was lying. They always did. But he just shrugged. “Alright.”

The blond frowned, expecting something more. “What? Can’t think of another cruel taunt?” He looked back down at the words on his page. He hated how exposed he always felt in front of the older man. Levi acted as if nothing had happened between them. It made him feel stupid for being bothered by it. “When I told you you’re surely not popular, I meant this part of you, too. A therapist would do wonders for you, Levi.”

Levi’s permanent frown deepened. “The fuck is that.”

Zeke looked back up at him, raising an eyebrow. “A therapist? You don’t have them here on Paradis?” He supposed that made sense. Yelena and the Volunteers had brought technology to the island but their society still had not progressed that far. He mulled over how to explain the concept, breathing out the tension in an annoyed sigh. “Well, it’s similar to when a soldier is hurt - their wound needs to be treated and given time to heal. When a person experiences fear or trauma, sometimes they can be wounded in the mind instead. They need to be treated, too.” He thought of his grandfather, wondering if he and his grandmother were even still alive. If they were still suffering. His tone was bitter. “But sometimes, the wounds never heal and we have to live with them for the rest of our lives.”

“Mm.” Levi grunted in vague acknowledgement. He studied him thoughtfully for a long moment. “Seems like you might need a lot of treatment in the head.”

Zeke snorted uncontrollably at that. It was a genuine laugh from his chest. He wasn’t sure if Levi was referring to what happened between them in the tent or what happened at the river, or the countless fucked up things Zeke had said over the month they had talked. Probably all of it.

He smiled lopsidedly, but it looked a little sad. “You’re right about that.”

He wondered if Levi was aware that he was just as far gone as Zeke was.

As time ticked closer, there was restless stirring within the camp amongst the soldiers. More Scouts began arriving to report to Levi, almost every day. The fragile political state of the island seemed to be crumbling and there was a sense that something important was happening outside the forest. The soldiers seemed to look at Zeke with more suspicion than before. Yelena was likely working hard together with the members of Eren’s Jaegerist group. Zeke had always known he could entrust everything to her.

Levi received his report in the trees high above his head and came back to his place by the fire.

Zeke didn’t know how much the man was aware of. “Any news about Eren?” He asked boredly.

“I don’t know.” The suspicion was blatant in Levi’s eyes. “You tell me.”

Zeke scowled. “How would I know? I’ve been stuck here for almost a month. Your higher-ups won’t let me see him, nor will you let us start restoring Eldia.” He lowered his gaze, feeling like an ill-tempered child in his annoyance.

Levi still didn’t trust him at all. Nothing had changed despite the things that had happened between them. He knew the man saw him as a murderer and depraved pervert, nothing more. He couldn’t see that he and Eren were trying to save them. Levi didn’t care to understand him, only seeing him as a heartless monster.

But from Zeke’s perspective, Levi was the heartless one.

“Despite whatever it is that you may think... I love my brother and I worry about him every day. I don’t care what he’s doing, I don’t...” His face scrunched as he struggled with the right words. He wasn’t heartless, and his love for his brother was selfless. “Want anything from him. I just want to see him and know he’s alright.”

Levi sat down on the crate across from him, studying him thoughtfully. Perhaps something was going on outside the forest and he knew something that Zeke didn’t, because his expression was odd. His higher-ups were suspicious of the brothers’ relationship and who was controlling whom. It seemed they had started to make their decision. Levi’s expression couldn’t mean anything good. But his words made no sense to the blond, because for some reason he said, “You don’t understand love, do you.”

Zeke looked up at him, blinking in bewilderment.

“Love is about respect,” Levi told him, staring him straight in the eyes. “Accepting their ugly side and stopping them when they go too far. It’s about letting go.” He leaned back and stared down his nose. Patronizing. “But you wouldn’t understand that.”

Zeke’s head went hot and his cheeks flushed. Was he ashamed? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything when he was near this man. His voice trembled, petulant. “I love my brother, more than anything. More than myself. I don’t need anything in return.”

“I don’t doubt that you love him.” Those words were probably the kindest Levi had ever said to him. “But that’s exactly why you don’t understand.”

Zeke’s hands were shaking and his nails dug into the skin, hiding beneath his book. Why did Levi always make him feel like a scolded child?

He didn’t understand. He had no idea what Levi meant.

He loved his brother and he would never abandon him. He would never let him go. No matter what he did.

He didn’t understand how that could be wrong.

Zeke could sense that their time in the forest was coming to a close. He had tried so hard to understand Levi, but it seemed that their military was never going to trust him and the older man was just going to follow their orders without question. Zeke was disappointed in himself, and in Levi, for being so naïve to think that they could ever understand each other.

And he didn’t know why he did it. Perhaps it was a desperate last bid for attention.

“Hypothetically, if I was to tell you that there was a small family of bees making their home in my beard, what would you say?”

Levi stared at him in repulsion.

Zeke’s facial hair was overgrown and sticking out wildly, having been in the forest for almost a month now. He truly looked like some sort of beast.

“I thought you said you would grow it out because it was funny.”

“I did.” Zeke paused. “Say that. I did say that.” He removed his glasses, placing them in his pocket. “And it still is funny. But the bees have started stinging me and I’m getting tired of pretending they’re not.” He sniffed. “Just a trim will do.”

Levi stood up and approached him from across the fire, drawing his blade. He stared at Zeke’s face, just for a moment as the blond suppressed his instinctual urge to flinch. ”...You’re still ugly as shit, but your face is more tolerable without the glasses.”

Zeke huffed a laugh. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

Levi bent slightly at the waist, thin brows furrowed in concentration. He lined his blade up with the angle of Zeke’s jaw and began trimming at the overgrown hairs sticking out. Golden, wavy strands fluttered softly down around them, landing on the crate and on the ground at their feet.

As the silence settled around them, Zeke stared at the man’s face and at the creases in the corners of his eyes. He studied the wrinkles on his forehead from his permanent frown, the dark shadows beneath from lack of sleep, and the cutting sharp silver of his eyes. The man’s height was misleading - from up close, Zeke could clearly recognize the ten-year age gap between them. He felt like he could see the years of experience and pain, the suffering he had endured. It was etched into Levi’s face, in every wrinkle and every crease. Like a stone on the shoreline, waves battering against it as it withered slowly away.

Zeke swallowed and averted his eyes quickly, his chest feeling strangely tight.

That night in the tent, Zeke woke up in the pitch blackness of the middle of the night.

He turned his head to his left, and for the first time, he saw Levi dozing next to him. The man slept sitting up, leaning against the wall of the tent with his arms crossed and head bent to his chest. The creases in his face were relaxed and it was jarring to see, hearing his soft breaths, in and out.

So the monster does sleep, Zeke thought to himself.

Zeke reached out his hand slowly towards him. He didn’t know if it was to touch him or to wake him or something else. It was just an impulse, perhaps his instinct just desperately trying to become closer in the only way it knew how. But there was no intention behind it, and he didn’t know why he did it.

He immediately stopped his hand in mid-air, his fingers trembling.

It was stupid to try to get closer to the man. They would never be able to find a connection or understand each other. Even after the incident in the tent and at the river, nothing changed and Levi still didn’t care about him. He never would. Not after everything they had done.

In another life, perhaps. But not this one.

He rolled over to face the other way, pulling the sheets up and gripping them tighter around him.

And within the silence and darkness of that night, it felt like a goodbye.

To his feelings for the man that never came to be.

It happened shortly after. All the unrest in the camp came to a climax, as two Scouts arrived by horse-back to report the news to Levi. Zeke strained to hear their conversation, only catching a few important words.

”..........Zackley.....................Commander Pixis.................................Jaegerists...........feed...Zeke.........................”

Zeke was reading through his book for the seventh time. He took a sip of his coffee, glancing at the empty crates of wine out of the corner of his eye. Then he looked up above him at the soldiers stationed in the trees. He counted all thirty of them, taking note of their positions. The best route to exit the forest was behind him. If he ran in a straight line he would eventually arrive at the tree line.

Levi landed on the grass and approached him, studying him carefully, suspicious of how much he had heard. Zeke confirmed with him that all the wine had been drank, and he reveled in that familiar look of disdain in Levi’s eyes. He placed his book down and stretched his arms, yawning exaggeratedly.

And then it was time.

He took off running into the forest. Took a long, deep breath and let out his scream.

There were blinding flashes of light and enormous crashes that shook the ground beneath their feet as Levi’s subordinates transformed. Zeke ordered the bulk of them to attack Levi, and only three of them he called towards him, climbing onto one of their large palms so they could carry him towards the edge of the forest. He vaguely thought that perhaps he should quit smoking - even just that quick sprint had him panting heavily. But then he remembered he would be dead in a few months time and there was no point in quitting anyway. After his euthanasia plan succeeded, he expected to be killed, but he had never thought about what he would do with his remaining months if he wasn’t. Spending his days smoking different substances sounded appealing.

As he settled into the palm of the Titan carrying him, he reflected that his time with Levi in this forest had been truly a disappointment. The things they had done to each other were too grave and their pasts too different. Levi would never understand his desire for Eldians to fade away and quietly disappear. He would never understand the suffering of a child at the hands of their father. The only one who could understand him was Eren.

But Zeke had underestimated the monster, Levi Ackerman, once again.

As the tree line approached in the distance, he heard a horrifying slice as the titan to his right was cut down, crashing to the ground. Zeke was in shock, barely registering what was happening, and the Titan to his left was sliced into pieces also.

Zeke felt the familiar pure terror, his pulse beating wildly in his ears.

If only he could have gone the rest of his short life without fighting Levi again. His trauma from last time was crippling, his fight-or-flight instincts screaming at him to run. He cried out in fear, forcing his shaky hand to his mouth and biting down.

He transformed into his Beast and lashed out in anger, ripping apart the remaining Titan to use its body as projectiles. He snarled at his own stupidity. He only had himself to blame. Just like the first time they met in Shiganshina, when he had ignored Reiner and Bertholdt’s warnings and been so sure that a human soldier could never defeat him. Zeke had underestimated Levi again. He had gotten too cocky, too confident in his own wine plan, convinced himself that Levi was too soft to kill his own comrades. But Levi had sliced them to pieces like they were nothing.

Their time in the forest together had made Zeke foolish, witnessing his small moments of gentleness and kindness.

How could he forget so easily that this man was a monster?

Levi’s bloodlust was palpable and he destroyed Zeke just as quickly as the last time. Even though he used his hardening ability on his nape, the man’s thunder spears forced him out, blowing his body to pieces.

Zeke’s scream was one of absolute terror. It hurt so much.

His hands were blown off and his organs exposed and falling out. The pain was excruciating, his body convulsing and going into nervous shock as he vomited blood. He felt the pure panic as he realized he couldn’t see, his eyes and skin burnt off and stripped away, exposing the raw muscle and nerves underneath. Everything was fading into blackness and the last thing he felt was the rough tug in his hair as Levi dragged him along the ground.

He slowly began to regain consciousness when his body regenerated enough of his skin and organs back for him to function. Zeke groaned painfully, overwhelmed in confusion about where he was and what he was doing. His eyes shifted into focus and the first thing he saw was Levi’s face. Everything came back all at once and he jolted with panic.

His body reacted instinctually, curling away from him and trying to escape, but he found that he couldn’t move his arms, tied tightly behind his back with rope. There were clouds of steam rising from him and the pain hit him then, washing over him, and it was so unbearable that he wanted to puke. He realized he was lying in the cart that they had arrived in, but he couldn’t see over the side to grasp their location. He jerked and struggled, his tongue thick and heavy as he gasped incoherently.

Levi simply pointed calmly to the thunder spear pierced through his body.

Zeke had no idea how he hadn’t noticed it until then. His head went hot all at once, burning up, and there was a sharp, buzzing sound in his ears that made him feel like his head would burst. The spear had penetrated all the way through him - he could feel every centimeter of cold metal lodged through his stomach, all the way to the other side. There was a thin wire attached to it, wrapped around his neck like a collar, and Zeke’s eyes were wide as his entire body started to tremble with fear.

Levi had turned him into a literal human bomb.

He was overcome with terror, his heart feeling like it would beat out of his chest. The feeling of metal going through him was sickening and the nausea rose up suddenly, gagging uncontrollably and retching out the contents of his stomach.

Zeke felt horribly weak as his stomach heaved, cowering and trembling as Levi’s face went dark, drawing his blade. He had been so stupid. So arrogant. He had provoked Levi and killed his comrades and completely underestimated him. And this was the result.

Levi sliced off his feet, then slowly up his legs, splitting him into pieces to make him feel as much pain as possible.

Zeke screamed and cried with the pain, his voice going hoarse. Levi was turning him into meat, chopping him up for slaughter. Preparing him to be feasted on, just as he had said he would. Zeke struggled against his bindings, gasping and body jerking painfully.

The cuts were vicious and unnecessarily cruel. If Levi wanted to ensure Zeke couldn’t run, he simply could have removed his limbs, then repeated it as needed before they could regenerate.

But through the painful haze, Zeke knew this was about revenge. He had killed so many of Levi’s comrades, and the man was getting revenge for them, just like he had that day by the river. Levi wanted to hurt him. He wanted him to bleed. He was torturing him. And unlike last time, he wouldn’t allow Zeke any pleasure from that.

Levi shredded his legs up to his thighs, and Zeke’s head slumped to the wood beneath him when the torture finally stopped. Tears welled in his eyes as blood dripped from the stumps of his legs and his body tried to heal.

He was delirious with pain and hopelessness, eyes rolling back in his head and mumbling incoherently. He faded in and out, disassociating completely. All he knew was that he couldn’t find his glasses. Were they laying somewhere in the forest? Were they blown up along with his body?

He just wanted to see Ksaver. He just wanted his dad.

He needed to make him proud.

Raindrops began falling as the sky darkened with rolls of thunder, and Zeke registered foggily that the cart was moving. Levi was going to feed him to someone else. He had made the decision on behalf of the island and Zeke could do nothing now to stop him. He wouldn’t be able to meet with his brother again, or euthanize his people.

All the lies he had told, the manipulations. All the lives he had taken. Everything he had done his whole life, for nothing. He had failed Ksaver.

The rain fell in his eyes, soaking his body and washing away the blood from his legs.

He knew he couldn’t be forgiven for the things he had done. He needed to save them all.

Levi thought of him as a murderer and a depraved pervert, nothing more. He would never know how far Zeke was willing to go for the sake of peace. How far he was willing to go for Ksaver.

All the poor, suffering children. He couldn’t let them be born.

Zeke had underestimated Levi in Shiganshina, and again in the forest.

But this time, Levi had underestimated Zeke.

For Ksaver.

He gritted his teeth and his body went taut, the raindrops disguising his tears. There was a click as the wire around his neck released and he cried out as the spear dislodged.

If he was to die here, then Levi would die with him, too.

He couldn’t feel his limbs at all. His body had probably gone into shock, because even though he knew there was pain, it was numb. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears and he couldn’t hear anything. The bomb had taken out his hearing.

Everything was so quiet. But he felt strangely calm.

There were raindrops dripping on his face and into his eyes. He thought it felt pleasant and cool on his face, but he wasn’t sure, because his senses were a mess. Blood was leaking from his mouth, nose and ears and his sight was fading, too. He couldn’t make out much. He squinted a bit and realized there were flowers in front of him. He must be on the ground. They looked like daisies. For some reason, he remembered that a man he slept with years ago once told him that daisies meant hope and new beginnings.

How ironic. Zeke would laugh if he could, but he didn’t have a voice or enough function in his destroyed body.

He realized he was going to die.

Would Ksaver be upset with him for losing his glasses? He had put all his trust in Zeke, but it had all gone to waste.

He thought of Yelena. Without her, he would never have gotten this far. What would she say if she saw him now? Would she be disappointed?

What about Eren? Would he mourn for him?

Zeke loved him so much. Even if he couldn’t save the whole world, as long as he could save his brother.

Eren was all he had.

His vision was fading and he couldn’t see the flowers anymore. He couldn’t see anything. Everything was sinking into darkness.

He was going to die. Even though he wasn’t ready yet. Even though he hadn’t achieved anything.

And the last thing he thought was,

how cruel this world is.

When all he had wanted was peace.

A little girl woke him up.

She was tiny and ragged, her clothes and hands caked with dirt. She knelt down next to him with her pail of water and began molding the earth around him.

Zeke looked down at himself in shock. Almost his entire body was missing. He had no idea how he was alive, breathing and conscious in this state.

First she molded his missing arms. When they were completed, Zeke found that he could move them. He raised a hand to eye-level and clenched his fist in awe before opening it again.

The little girl moved down and began molding his chest and stomach, shaping them beneath her tiny fingers.

Zeke opened his mouth, hesitating, and asked the little girl where they were.

But she said nothing, just continuing to mold the earth.

He asked her who she was.

But she said nothing still.

Zeke stared at her for a while, watching her work, and he felt like he was lost in a dream. He looked to his right and then to his left, at the endless expanse of nothingness as far as the eye could see. Then he tilted his head up at the sky.

It was an aurora of colours, splashed across the darkness like it was God’s canvas and He was painting the world. The sky was leading somewhere; connecting to something unknown and urging him to follow, and Zeke was suddenly overcome with such an overwhelming sadness that it almost brought him to tears.

He didn’t know where this strange place was but in that moment, he felt like he was connected to everything. The earth around him was molding to his body; his blood and bones being created out of nothing. It felt like it was the meaning of everything, yet it meant nothing at all. His blood was the blood of all Eldians, as well the blood of every titan, and perhaps the blood of this little girl, too.

He stared up at that aurora for what felt like years, yet it also felt like an instant in time. A stream of memories flowed through his mind, like an old record being rewound.

The time he spent in the forest with Levi; just a vicious monster and a pathetic beast. He had wanted connection and to understand him. To make sense of their humanity.

The festival in Liberio and his farewell to his hometown. All the goodbyes he said to so many people.

The loneliness he had shared with Friedrich, sharing beds and sharing cigarettes. What was he to Zeke? What did it mean to grow attached to someone and to wish things could have been different?

The day he met Eren in Shiganshina on top of that rooftop, the way his everything had changed and his pitiful life had suddenly seemed a little sweeter.

The moment he set foot on Paradis for the first time, like fate had led him to the same place his father had been titanized.

The laughter he shared with his warrior comrades - was it all just a lie? Was he really so heartless?

The moment he saved Yelena and put his trust in her. If only they could have been friends in another life.

General Calvi’s training and punishments, all their manipulations.

The countless men that had taken him home, drunk and desperate to feel wanted.

The rich nobles he sold his body to, using him and tainting him so he could just feel something.

Ksaver, the only person who deserved to be called his father. His kind eyes assuring him it would be okay. Those simple moments of catch ball that brought him such joy.

His grandparents and their loving care and protection from the world that would never stop hurting them.

Grisha and Dina and their expectations. All he had wanted was for them to love him and accept him as he was.

His entire life played backwards before his eyes and as he stared up at that endless sky for what felt like forever, he realized that he was crying.

Who was he?

Why was he born?

What was the meaning of his life?

Zeke looked at the little girl beside him, silent tears running down his face. She was molding his legs and her clothes were in tatters; her tiny hands looking so weary and hurt.

This place was everything. And it was nothing.

It was Paths.

And she had called him here.

Notes:

So back in ch 137, Zeke stated that Founding Ymir had an ‘attachment’ to the world that "Eren understood but Zeke did not, and that’s why she went with Eren". When that chapter came out, I theorized that her ‘attachment that Zeke didn’t understand’ was probably love and realizing that was what inspired me to begin writing this fic. In light of ch 139, it turns out my theory was correct, so this fic will be continuing as planned without me having to go back and fix or make any changes. Yissss

Obviously I am using the manga source material, not the anime, so beware for major manga spoilers from here on as I explore Zeke’s entire character arc until the very end. Hold on folks and prepare for more suffering and Zeke being a hoe!

Chapter 14: humiliate me

Summary:

Zeke unlocks the power of the Founding Titan and is taken on a journey through his memories.

Notes:

There are references to Klaus from chapter 1 of this fic and Bauer from chapter 2. Very coercive sexual content and dubious consent.

Also warning for omorashi/urophilia. Basically Zeke is fucked so hard that he pees himself, so please read at your own risk if you're uncomfortable with this!

Zeke didn’t know how much time passed in that strange place.

Time seemed to be relative, or perhaps it didn’t even exist at all there. He sat there watching the little girl mold his body and looking up at that aurora for what felt like an eternity.

When he emerged, he was pushed out from the belly of a titan, like a newborn birthed from its womb. He felt the grass beneath his hands and curled his fingers into it, feeling like it had been years since he last touched it. His eyes were wide and he stumbled clumsily on shaky legs, pulling himself to his feet as the steam from the disappearing titan licked at his naked body.

He breathed in the air of outside, his pupils dilating and breeze ruffling his hair. His entire being was struck in awe, trying to make sense of what he had just experienced. He looked up as the sunlight shone in his eyes and he felt oddly calm.

He had been resurrected from death and reborn anew.

Eren’s Jaegerist group were standing in front of him and in shock at his entrance, arms slack on their rifles. One young soldier couldn’t seem to stop staring, blushing at his nudity shyly. Normally Zeke would take that as an invitation to flirt back. But his mind paid no attention to the boy, only focused on Levi.

Levi was unconscious and covered in blood; gravely wounded from the explosion. Their bespectacled Commander pulled him into the river and Zeke simply watched as they escaped, barely feeling anything.

It seemed Levi hadn’t died in the explosion. But neither had Zeke. They still had a role to play.

Zeke looked down at his new body. He had blown himself up, splitting his body in two, and the injury had been so fatal that he hadn’t been able to regenerate. He remembered his last thoughts and his vision fading into nothingness. The ability for a shifter to regenerate depended entirely on their will to live. Zeke had given up completely and given in to death. He knew he had died. But the little girl had called him to her, swallowed him into her titan’s womb to be reborn again. For what purpose, he didn’t know.

He studied himself carefully; the creases on his palm, pressing at his skin and touching the scars from his childhood. Everything looked and felt the same, just like the countless times he had regenerated with his abilities. But the girl had molded his missing body out of the earth.

Did she do that every time he regenerated?

Was this the true form of the power of the titans?

Even his dick was the same, he thought, looking down at it absently. Maybe he should have asked her to make it bigger, since she was making it, anyway.

He snorted suddenly at his own thoughts, shaking his head. He was still in a daze. “That’s inappropriate,” he said out loud.

The young Jaegerist staring at him jumped immediately, his cheeks flushing even darker. He must have thought Zeke was referring to him.

The Jaegerists only had horses to transport them and Zeke looked between the saddle and his exposed dick, frowning lightly. That might chafe a bit. But the leader of the Jaegerists handed him a pair of pants and he put them on gratefully. He had no underwear or shirt, but Zeke preferred it that way, anyway.

Zeke was updated on the situation by their young leader as they rode to Shiganshina. He knew Marley and the Warrior Unit had infiltrated the island in the month he had been confined. They knew of his betrayal and would be rescuing Gabi and Falco, trying to prevent Eren and him from making contact. Zeke knew he would be forced to fight them.

But for a reason he still didn’t understand, the little girl didn’t allow him to die. He had been given a second chance at life and to fulfill his euthanasia plan. The walls of Shiganshina loomed in the distance. Eren was waiting for him. He wouldn’t let this go to waste.

He transformed into his Beast as they arrived at the wall and as he climbed to the top, he searched for his brother’s titan form. Marley’s airships were flying in overhead and he shot them down, exploding into flames as they crashed and burned to the ground. He spotted Pieck’s Cart Titan with Magath manning the machine guns on her back and shot at them before they could aim in his direction. He wounded Reiner and Porco, their titan forms mangled to pieces from his projectiles, preventing them from getting near his brother.

There was a moment when he noticed steam rising from the corpse of a titan and he realized Pieck had been destroyed by the Jaegerists. It made him pause for just a moment. He and Pieck had defended Marley with their titans for more than a decade. She had always been the smartest of the bunch and too perceptive of his lies, but they had defended each other’s backs regardless. He knew she never cared for Marley and perhaps that’s why she never cared enough to confront him about her suspicions. She became a warrior only for the sake of her sick father and felt nothing for Marley, only trusting her comrades. He felt true sympathy for her. If only he didn’t have to involve them. He had never wanted to fight any of them.

He wished things didn’t have to be this way. But he wasn’t going to apologize. These were the sacrifices he had to make. Just a little more and he and Eren would save the world.

But little Pieck had always been too smart for her own good. Her death was just an act to catch the Jaegerists off-guard and Magath aimed and fired at Zeke, hitting his titan form through the nape. He was caught completely unaware as it blew a hole in his back, and he tumbled from the wall, falling the fifty metres and landing with a sickening thud.

He was utterly disoriented, coming to his senses slowly and realizing he was lying on the ground. There was a devastating wound in his back from Magath and Pieck’s attack and he forced it to heal, his eyes searching desperately for his brother.

Being shot to the ground had given him an advantageous position and he spotted Eren directly in front of him, only a hundred metres ahead. Porco and Reiner were overpowering him and he could see his little brother struggling, and he knew in that moment what he needed to do. Zeke was his big brother. Eren could rely on him to protect him. Yelena had made sure that Paradis’ military had consumed his tainted wine and this was the moment it had all been for. He pushed himself up and took a deep breath to let out his scream.

But he heard a familiar pleading voice and two tiny figures emerged from behind the wall. Zeke was stunned completely frozen as he stared. Colt was dragging Falco along by his tiny arm, pulling him towards Zeke. He begged him not to scream. Falco had consumed some of the wine.

Zeke felt the creeping dread and horror, slowly prickling at his senses as the realization set in.

He had always seen himself in Colt. His love for his little brother and his hard work, striving for approval from Marley. The Jaeger and Grice families were surely entwined by fate and it seemed they would never be able to escape from it.

Zeke had betrayed them all yet Colt was giving him a second chance. The only warrior to do such a thing. He always thought Zeke was puzzling and his actions unreadable, but he didn’t care about any of that. He didn’t care about Marley or about Zeke’s betrayal. He didn’t care how many Marleyans or Eldians Zeke killed. Just spare his little brother. Just Falco, if no one else. If he felt anything for his comrades. If he had any humanity left.

Zeke felt the nausea rising up like a wave and consuming him, bile rising in his throat and face twisting in pure and utter despair.

Not him.

Why did it have to be him.

The warriors were his younger siblings. He had watched them grow, hiding his true thoughts and goals from every one of them. He had been closest with Colt, spending so much time together; training him to inherit his Beast, just as Ksaver had to him. He had watched over Colt as he worked so hard, all to release his family from his uncle’s sins. He was too pure. Both he and Falco.

Zeke felt the overwhelming regret, choking on the breath he was holding in.

There was so much at stake.

He felt like his chest was collapsing and his throat restricting, face scrunching as he prepared himself for what he had to do.

Colt was like his little brother.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

But Eren was his little brother, too.

Please understand.

This was to save the world.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

He could never be forgiven for this.

And then he screamed.

There was a series of loud explosions throughout the burning city as the military was transformed into titans all at once. There was a flash of blinding light in front of him but Zeke couldn’t look away, from that sight of young Colt clutching Falco to his chest. The sight was burned into his retinas; he could never forget it now, not as long as he lived. And the last thing he saw was the tears in Colt’s eyes as his baby brother exploded in his arms and transformed.

Falco’s body twisted grotesquely as it grew and Zeke quickly averted his eyes to the ground. His lips shook and his mind went blank, his ears ringing with eerie white noise. From the corner of his eye he could see Colt’s body, burnt black and unmoving, but his body refused to turn his head to look directly. It was like his brain was shutting down, disassociating, protecting itself from the horrors of his own actions.

His mouth moved robotically, ordering Falco’s titan to attack Reiner and protect Eren.

Magath and Pieck shot him through the nape again and his body reacted in defense, ejecting himself from his titan. He couldn’t move his limbs properly, still gravely wounded in his back and sliding slowly to the ground as his Beast emitted steam. He felt numb, tilting his head up to look at the sight in front of him. His ears were still ringing and he barely registered this was reality.

He saw Falco’s titan rampaging out of control, then Porco emerging from his Jaw, his destroyed body a bloody mess. Porco was crying and saying something but Zeke couldn’t hear over the white noise. Porco called Falco towards him and away from Reiner, and Zeke watched as Falco swallowed him whole. The ringing noise rose to a deafening crescendo and Zeke was stuck in a trance. And all he could think was,

Ah.

This is my fault.

Colt and Falco and Porco. It was all because of him.

He searched for his brother but his movements felt sluggish and slow, stuck in quicksand. He needed to touch Eren. They would save the world and then it would all be worth it. All their deaths would be for a purpose.

Eren had noticed Zeke on the ground, playing dead, and he ejected from his titan; his little human body running towards him. Zeke beckoned to him, extending his hand. All they needed was to make contact. Just touch and everything they worked for would be complete.

But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabi take hold of Colt’s gun. Tears were streaming down her face as she aimed and fired, the recoil jerking her petite body back. There was the burst of gunpowder and a flash of light and she shot Eren straight through his neck.

Zeke watched in slow-motion. He screamed his brother’s name. Eren was reaching out towards him as his neck exploded gruesomely in a shower of blood and his head detached from his body. The sound it made was sickening; the splatter of blood and the crack of his spine disconnecting.

Zeke’s horrified eyes welled with tears and despair as his mouth opened in a desperate scream.

His baby brother.

Eren’s head dropped, his face frozen in surprise, tumbling down in an arc. Zeke stretched his body taut, reaching out for it; his voice going hoarse as he screamed for him.

And just as it landed in the palm of his hand, a flash of memories engulfed him. Shards from Eren’s life and the memories of the lives of the previous inheritors. Seeping like drops of water, trickling through his mind. Something nagged at him, that these memories held the truth.

And then it all went black.

When he opened his eyes he was in Paths. But it was different to the last time. There was an enormous bright light in front of him, a massive form branching out like a tree. He stared up at it in reverence, his pupils dilating. He tilted his head up further to the sky, to the aurora that was leading here. It had always been leading to this place.

The little girl appeared from beyond the dunes, approaching slowly on her worn-out feet.

Eren was lying a few paces away from him, his head detached from his body and unconscious.

Zeke immediately tried to go to his brother’s side but there were thick, metal chains around his neck, preventing him from moving. He looked down at them in bewilderment, tugging at them in distress. They extended downwards, attached to the ground, and he clawed at them and pulled but the chains wouldn’t falter even a little.

Zeke looked back up, watching anxiously as the little girl approached Eren. She knelt down next to him and began to reconstruct his body from the earth. He called Eren’s name but there was no reply. He yelled at the girl, asking if Eren was okay, but she said nothing.

Zeke realized he was almost hyperventilating, going into a panic as he tugged helplessly at the chains around his neck. He looked back towards the strange tree of light in front of them.

The last thing he remembered was Eren being shot and catching his severed head in his hand. In that moment they touched, it was contact between the Founding and a royal and they were transported to Paths. But not the same place Zeke had been called to before.

Was this strange tree of light the Coordinate? Was this the place that the Kings of the past arrived at, using the power of the Founding Titan?

The blinding light of the tree reflected and burned in his eyes as he stared at it in both horrified fear and wonder.

Was this the true form of the Founding’s power?

A tree?

As soon as the thought came into his mind, he was sucked into a dream.

He stepped into a memory. It must have been his.

He was only little. Maybe three or so. He was playing with his monkey plush, moving its feet and walking it across the floor of his room, knocking over his toy soldiers.

His three-year-old self picked it up and turned it to face him. “Mr Monkey, why are you sad?”

The monkey plush didn’t say a thing.

“I don’t have any friends, either. Don’t be sad. I’ll be your friend.”

He hugged the monkey to his chest, squeezing it tightly.

Zeke treasured that plush toy dearly, taking it with him everywhere he went. But when he was five, Grisha took it from him, and Zeke clung helplessly at the bottom of his shirt.

“But Mr Monkey didn’t do anything bad,” he sniveled.

“He’s not real, Zeke. He’s a toy,” Grisha told him. “You’re already five, you’re too old for plush toys.”

His grandmother kept it though. She looked at him with pity when Zeke told her what happened, stroking his cheek softly. She placed the monkey on his bed, in his room at his grandparents house, telling him it would always be waiting for him there when he came to visit.

Even as he grew and joined the military, moving into the barracks, she still kept it there, safe in his childhood room. Every time he went to visit his grandparents, the monkey sat there like it had been waiting for him all this time. Sometimes he would go in and just touch it, feeling the softness beneath his fingers. The toy was old and faded now, but it was still so precious. A memory of a time so long ago.

One night before bedtime, he asked Grisha if he could read The Cat’s House to him. He loved the pictures even though he wasn’t good at reading the words yet. He held the book out to his father shyly but Grisha scowled down at it in such a way that it made him feel so embarrassed for asking at all, his little toes curling into his shoes. He didn’t ask again after that.

But when he stayed over at his grandparents house they always let him read it. It was his favourite. He loved the part at the end especially, because his grandmother and Zeke would say it together:

“This is my home,” Cat said.
“Safe and warm as can be.
This is your home, too.
Just for you. And for me.”

That’s how Zeke felt, when he was here with his grandparents. Sometimes he didn’t even want to go back home with his father and mother. But he knew it was bad to think that, so he never said it out loud.

Grisha made him memorize his restorationist studies, reciting them each day before bed and after he woke up. Looking back on it now, it was incredibly disturbing. He was only six. Yet he was reciting political propaganda, drilled into his head by his parents, as if he was reciting the alphabet.

Right after he betrayed his parents, he suffered from extreme confusion and guilt. It was too much for a seven-year-old to bear. His parents had never loved him. All the ‘studies’ had been brainwashing. It was all too difficult for his undeveloped brain to grasp.

But at least he had Ksaver and his grandparents.

There was the layer of brainwashing by his parents, and the layer of conflicting Marleyan propaganda he was required to learn at school, and then there was the layer of truth that Ksaver allowed him. It was all so confusing. Sometimes he would slip back into the propaganda his parents had taught him and Ksaver would just hug him and gently correct him.

“You can forget all those studies Grisha and Dina taught you, Zeke. It was irresponsible and cruel to teach you those things,” Ksaver told him. “Your studies at school... well, unfortunately you need to pretend to believe all of it. That’s what your grandparents do. I do it, too. But just between you and me...” Ksaver pressed a finger against Zeke’s tiny chest and then at his own, lowering his voice as if it was a grand secret, just for them. His eyes went wide and he grinned. “It’s all bullshit.”

Zeke sniggered loudly and covered his mouth with both hands. That was a bad word.

“When you’re with me, you can forget it all. And just be yourself. We can play catch until the cows come home.” Ksaver smiled crookedly. “Or maybe until the sheep come home.”

He put a gentle hand on Zeke’s head, ruffling the soft blond strands, and Zeke leaned in to the affection.

“This is my home,” Cat said.
“Just for you. And for me.”

Ksaver and his grandparents were his home. The Cat’s House would always be his favourite book. Even now.

Mrs. Jaeger always baked his favourite pies just for him. Apple or cranberry or blueberry; he couldn’t decide. After training he would come back home and eat at the table with his grandparents, his little feet swinging back and forth.

There was a smear of jam on his chubby cheek and Mr. Jaeger wiped it away fondly, patting his head. But his voice sounded sad when he said, “I’m sorry, Zeke.”

Zeke looked up at him in innocent confusion. “For what?”

Mr. Jaeger looked over to the photo of his late son and daughter on the mantle. They had both been stolen from him. “This world is not kind to us.”

But Zeke was only seven and he didn’t understand at all. He just blinked up at him and beneath the table, his little feet stopped swinging.

Zeke watched his younger self from afar. This memory that he thought he had forgotten years ago.

“Why am I seeing this?” He asked, but he didn’t know who he was asking.

The little girl didn’t answer. She just kept molding Eren’s body. His brother was still unconscious and unmoving. But he was surely alive, if both of them were here at the Coordinate. The chains were still heavy around his neck.

Zeke was seeing these memories for a reason. Was she showing them to him or was he searching for something himself?

His grandfather had always been an intelligent man. He had never believed any of the propaganda. All he had done was pretend, in order to protect his family. And what had the world given him in return? Nothing but cruelty.

He had always been right. This world is not kind.

His grandparents had never hurt anyone.

Zeke sniffed once, shuffling his foot against the ground. Then he turned his head away from the sight and exited the memory.

He entered a new memory.

Zeke was the last of his class all through his childhood into his teenage years. He was ostracized by his peers and his grades didn’t particularly improve, even after betraying his parents. But when he turned them in, he was given special consideration for ‘exceptional loyalty to the Motherland’. That, along with Ksaver’s recommendation, outweighed his low marks and clumsy physical abilities and he was chosen as a warrior candidate.

He practiced pitching with Ksaver as often as he could, throwing the ball back and forth. Such a simple act brought him so much happiness. If only he could do it forever.

“Little Pieck and Annie are always bullying me,” he complained one day.

Ksaver laughed, adjusting the ball in his mitt and throwing it to him. “The other candidates are all considerably younger than you, Zeke. You’re supposed to be their mature older brother.”

Zeke’s expression scrunched in annoyance, but his face was so angelic that he just looked like an angry cat. “They yell random facts about vaginas whenever they see me. Because they know it grosses me out.”

Ksaver snorted but he quickly covered it up, adjusting his glasses. “...That’s creative.”

“It’s mean. They might be little but they’re going to be thugs one day.”

Ksaver shook his head exasperatedly. “You’re never going to grow up, are you?” But his voice was fond.

Ksaver always gave him mountains of books to read about every subject imaginable to satisfy his insatiable curiosity. He took him out for meals after training and even though Zeke was shooting up in height, towering over the man, he still ruffled his hair. They spent their days off playing catch ball and he helped Zeke with his studies. He was so kind and Zeke felt like he could tell him anything. Ksaver was his father. He wished he could have taken care of him into old age and introduced him to his useless boyfriends. He didn’t need anything else, if only he could stay by his side forever.

After he was chosen as a candidate, he was separated from the regular Eldian soldiers to receive special training. But he still bumped into the older boy, Klaus, around headquarters on occasion, being dragged roughly into the storage closet by his arm. They never went further than blowjobs though and the older boy never even touched him back. But Zeke told himself he liked doing it. He liked the attention and occasional praise. He didn’t tell Ksaver. He didn’t want him to worry.

One time, when he was sixteen, he swallowed down the older boy’s cum, his adam’s apple bobbing and drool running down his chin. He had gotten a lot better at giving head than before. Klaus smirked and patted his cheek, his own arrogant way of complimenting him. He swiftly exited the storage closet, a pack of cigarettes dropping out of his bag.

Zeke almost called after him, but decided against it. He was still hard in his underwear and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, picking up the box of cigarettes. He flipped it over and studied the package, tapping it against his fingers absently. Curious.

He took some matches from his grandparents and tried smoking the cigarettes behind the buildings the next day. But it was his first time and the smoke tickled at his throat and lungs, erupting into a coughing fit. He stuck out his tongue and frowned down at the box. It tasted horrible. Why would anyone smoke these willingly?

Porco’s mischievous voice came from around the corner. “I see smoke. I bet Commander Magath is sneaking a cigarette again.”

He heard Pieck’s laugh and Marcel’s wary voice drifting over. “Pokko...”

“Maybe we should walk a different way...” Bertholdt sounded worried as always. “We might be beaten if we see something we shouldn’t.”

The six warrior candidates appeared from around the corner, staring in different ranges of expectant to afraid, and Zeke just blinked at them.

Porco looked genuinely disappointed. “Oh, it’s just Zeke.”

Zeke ruffled in annoyance, feeling offended. “Well, I’m sorry it’s just me.”

“Were you smoking?” Reiner asked, his big blue eyes wide in admiration.

“No.” Zeke put out the cigarette immediately, squashing it into the concrete.

The children gathered around him, still chatting and bickering with each other and Zeke suppressed the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. He really needed friends his own age.

Marcel and Pieck were a year or two older than the rest, but they were still children, albeit a bit more mature and intelligent than the others. Porco and Reiner were always fighting about something, and Bertholdt and Marcel were always placating them and trying to calm them down. The girls were uninterested in getting involved and honestly, Zeke preferred hanging out with them more than the boys. He liked the idea of gossip and girl talk. But unfortunately, the feeling was not mutual. Annie and Pieck were the least girly girls in the world and they tended to pick on him. Which was very weird and pathetic of him, the more he thought about it.

Porco was bullying Reiner again about something in the background with Marcel trying to hold him back, and Pieck sat down on the ground, stretching her legs lazily. “Hey Zeke, guess what we found out in class today?”

Zeke frowned. Did he really want to answer that? That question was never good. “...What.”

“Vaginas are so stretchy that a whole egg could fit up there.”

“More than one, actually,” Annie added, crouching down near the tree.

“Lalalalalala...!” Zeke blocked his ears and shut his eyes, scrunching up his face. “I’m not listening, I’m not listening!”

Bertholdt was blocking his ears too, but his face was pink and he seemed more embarrassed than disgusted the way Zeke was.

“Pieck, that’s gross!” Porco yelled.

Pieck cackled like an evil witch and Annie seemed to be trying not to laugh. She always tried to act distant and uninterested, but her true self came through at times.

Those meaningless days were peaceful, before the Paradis mission began. If only they weren’t child soldiers, burdened with the sins of adults.

Zeke let out a shaky breath as he watched. He hated seeing this. He had betrayed all of them, so what was the point of reliving these memories? Half of those children were already dead and he had tried to kill the other half just now at the battle in Shiganshina. He had succeeded in turning Falco into a titan, Porco had been eaten alive and he had even killed Col-

His chest felt unbearably painful and tight and he grasped at it, swallowing around the lump in his throat. His voice trembled. “Stop showing me this. I don’t want to see it.”

But he was pulled into another memory.

He continued trying to smoke the cigarettes. There was something about the bitter taste that grew on him. But Ksaver caught him behind the buildings one day. He got uncharacteristically angry, snatching the cigarette from him and stamping it under his boot.

“Who gave these to you, Zeke?!” He shook the blond back and forth. “You know these things will kill you?!”

Zeke blinked up at his father figure, the anguished look of worry on his face. The man genuinely cared about him and that made him happy. His brows furrowed in confusion. “...But I’m going to inherit your Beast Titan. So I won’t live to be older than thirty, anyway.”

Ksaver’s eyes widened in horror and sucked in a gasp of air, as if he had just remembered. His expression twisted in pain, for this innocent boy in front of him who deserved so much more. He pulled Zeke into his arms and against his chest, squeezing him tight. He held him so tight that it almost hurt. But Zeke didn’t mind it at all, wrapping his arms around his father and squeezing him back.

He didn’t stop smoking.

Even after he ate Ksaver and inherited his titan, he continued, smoking more and more every day. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. Maybe if he smoked more, Ksaver would come back to life and scold him again.

Around that age he developed a drinking problem, too. He was underage but he frequented bars anyway, chugging down beers and whiskey. He had a low tolerance to alcohol and he drank until he was slurring and stumbling, allowing older men to take him home. He had such an innocent face yet was so eager for sex. The men could tell he was an easy lay, damaged with severe daddy issues. Going home with any man that wanted him. Or multiple men that wanted him.

He would wake up in seedy motels or random men’s homes, not remembering a thing and cum dripping out from between his thighs. He was so self-destructive and he knew if he wasn’t a shifter, he would surely be dead by now.

Zeke’s chest was heaving as he struggled to breathe, watching his younger self. He was breaking out into a sweat, panicking and nauseous at the memory. The chains clinked around his neck and he raked his shaky hands through his hair, the strands feeling a bit longer than usual. How long had he been sitting here in Paths watching these memories?

He knew which memory came next, tugging desperately at the chains around his neck to no avail. He hunched over with his head in his hands, pressing his forehead against the ground.

“No, please don’t make me remember this. Please.”

Was he talking to the girl? Or himself?

The little girl ignored him regardless, just molding his brother’s body.

He trembled, clawing at his hair and skin. “Please...!”

He was forced into the memory.

His self-destructive habits weren’t limited to alcohol. There was also the drugs. Ksaver would surely have cried if he was alive to see it.

When he was nineteen, he visited Bauer’s mansion as he did regularly. A carriage came to pick him up and he went inside, but Bauer was not the only man there. There was a whole group of nobles, relaxing against the lounges and drinking wine and smoking from hookah pipes.

Zeke retracted visibly, politely greeting them with a shy nod. Bauer hadn’t told him beforehand he was having other guests.

Bauer excused himself and lead Zeke into the next room, shuffling through clothing.

Zeke stood in the center of the room nervously, curling his toes into the floor. “You...” He stared at the ground, swallowing. “You didn’t tell me there would be others this time...”

“Didn’t I?” Bauer called over his shoulder, pulling out a box. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“I don’t know if I...” Zeke bit his lip, wringing his hands. There were a lot of men in the next room. “What if they...?”

“Nonsense.” The man dismissed him carelessly, turned towards him and approaching. “I pamper you well and provide you with luxuries other Eldians can only dream of. Anything you ask for, I give you. Have I ever treated you poorly?”

Zeke towered at over one-hundred-eighty centimeters but his demeanor was so weak, curling into himself, that it didn't seem like it. He looked into the man's eyes and his lips started to tremble. He had only ever treated him poorly. “No, sir.”

“Exactly.” He stroked Zeke’s hair and the boy leaned into it unintentionally, desperate for the affection. “I’m a generous man and the gentlemen in the other room are equally as generous. Now.” He opened the box. “I bought you something. Be a good boy and put it on.” He leered, his hands still in his hair. “You’re always such a good boy.”

Inside the box was women’s lingerie: expensive, soft lace panties that were practically see-through and sheen thigh-high stockings. The man dressed him up in it, sliding them up his thighs and making Zeke shiver. He tied a collar around his neck and a matching one around his dick. It had a little bell on it so every time his cock twitched, the bell would ring. His body was smooth and hairless everywhere. Zeke stared down at himself, his cheeks flushing dark red. It was humiliating.

Bauer guided him by his shoulders back into the other room with the men, and his steps were awkward shuffles, trying to shy his body away with his hands. Bauer ushered him to sit on one of the men’s laps and the man immediately had his hands on him, groping his ass through the lace and squeezing. Another man pressed the rim of a glass of wine against his lips, tipping it back, the red liquid sliding down the corner of his mouth. They petted him and cooed stupidly, stroking him over the lace of his panties.

The wine was high-quality and delicious as always and the packages of white powder emerged from the men’s robes. They encouraged him to snort the lines from the table and he was relieved, the nervousness and anxiety fading away and his limbs going soft and pliant. His mind went hazy and he bounced on clouds as they lay him down and snorted lines off his body. He giggled, eyes lidded and in a daze. Inside his head, the clouds were sheep and he bounced and rolled around in their soft wool.

The men gathered around his body, pinching his nipples and rubbing circles on the soft lace panties over and over, until it moistened and bulged out with his erection. The bell around his dick tinkled muffledly with the movements and he flushed dark as they pressed wet kisses against his skin.

A finger dipped into the waistband and his panties were pulled out so they could inspect the inside. There was a string of pre-come connecting his erection to the lace and Zeke heard them groan and curse and laugh with each other. They pulled the panties down and off, spreading his legs wide and pushing them up; bending him in two to give them a good look at his hole.

There were groans and grunts, and hands reached out to grope him and pinch him and rub at his little hole. One man started licking him eagerly and Zeke jolted and limbs went slack. His thighs trembled at the feeling of the man’s rough tongue, licking wet, hot stripes over and over, until his asshole was puckered and wet like a pussy. He was shuddering and moaning disorientedly, disembodied hands stroking his hair out of his sweaty face and holding his legs up and spread wide. His cock twitched and leaked and the bell on it tinkled every time he let out a glob of pre-come onto his stomach.

The man ate him out until he was squirming and flushed all over, Zeke’s body sliding over the cushions as he was pulled towards him. Everything felt so good in his high and he moaned wantonly, and the men laughed breathlessly around him at how erotic the sight was.

“Mmm, he's so flexible. Careful, he might break if you make him feel too good.”

“It’s alright. Even if he breaks, he’ll just heal, anyway.”

The man finally pulled his tongue away, his puckered hole coated in saliva and twitching, and Zeke whined, needy for more and arching his back. There was a desperate groan from one man, a curse from another.

“Look at that tight little pussy.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore.”

One man pulled him backwards onto his lap, seating him on his dick. It was thick and pulsing and it sunk into him, and Zeke whimpered at the fullness deep inside. They held his legs spread open, his entire body on display, and the man inside started bouncing him roughly, Zeke's body jolting with his thrusts. Every time they bounced, his cock would bounce too, and the bell around it would ring.

The man’s member inside him was fat and curved and it slid up against his insides, pushing the air out of him with every thrust. Zeke looked down with wide eyes at his own stomach and he choked on his breaths, watching the skin bulge out and go flat again every time the man moved. He let out a little gasped moan every time it pushed inside, rubbing up against that little button that made him feel so good; the tip of his cock so moist and flushed red. But the man's penis also kept pressing up against a place that felt weird and the pressure was almost too much. The men’s eyes were leering at him as they touched themselves and rubbed at his body, and his nipples perked up as they sucked them into their mouths.

“M-mn.” The strange pressure in his groin kept increasing steadily, feeling different than usual. “It feels... ...mn...! Weird...!”

“Hmm?” One of the men was teasing Zeke’s nipple with his tongue. “What does it feel like?”

“He feels so good, look how wet he is.”

“Like...” His eyes were still lidded and even through the pleasurable high, he felt a vague panic. The bell around his cock kept ringing as the thrusts didn’t pause and the feeling between his legs made him squirm and gasp. “Like I’m going to... pee...!”

The men laughed and groaned, holding his legs spread wide open. They urged the man inside him to go harder and Zeke’s eyes went wide as he struggled and protested. The brutal thrusts quickened, puncturing roughly and pushing up against his bladder. It kept pressing and pressing and Zeke whimpered and strained against the men’s hands holding him exposed. The pressure felt so good but it was also too much, his eyes welling with tears and scrunching them up tightly. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't hold it in.

The man gave a particularly violent thrust, pressing right up against his swollen prostate and bladder and Zeke let out a terrified squeak as the pressure in his groin released. His dick was flushed dark and drooling and it twitched, the bell around it tinkling. He curled his toes and his knees bent as he let out a stream of urine.

It was so embarrassing, even in his drugged-up state. His hips shuddered uncontrollably and it felt so good, unable to stop the stream or cover himself from the men’s leering eyes. The humiliated tears spilled over and down his cheeks, biting down hard on his lip until it bled. They were all staring at him, watching him as he did something supposed to be bad. He wasn't a child and yet he couldn't even hold it in, wetting himself in front of a whole group of people. He choked on a shameful sob and his hips thrusted against the air as the stream tapered off, his bladder emptying.

“Christ, that’s so hot...”

“Little slut. Fucked so hard that you peed all over yourself.”

“He’s so naughty. Did that feel good?”

They stroked his sweaty hair and groaned, rubbing their cocks and releasing in thick spurts over his skin. He blubbed through the embarrassed tears, not able to think straight through the drugged-up haze. They weren't mad at him? They still thought he was a good boy? The man inside him grunted and came inside and Zeke whimpered and twitched weakly, still hard. He pulled out and Zeke’s body was jostled and passed over, the next man pushing his dick inside.

“Fuck, that’s good, he’s so tight...”

“Keep fucking him, I want to see his face when he cums.”

Zeke moaned, jaw slack and feeling delirious. The candlelit room was dim and filled with smoke and it felt so good. Everything felt pleasurable. Even the humiliation was fading. They weren’t disgusted by him; they liked seeing him this way. They thought it was cute. They wanted him.

He wanted them to want him.

He spread his legs wider and arched his back, moaning as the bell around his dick tinkled with their thrusts.

Zeke was grinding his teeth and sobbing as he pressed his face into the ground. He was desperately trying to shut out the memory, his breath coming out in broken hitches and a mess of tears and drool on his face. He was so ashamed of these memories; of this part of his life. His body shook uncontrollably and he squeezed his eyes shut, clawing at his hair.

“Why do I have to see this?!” The chains around his neck felt like they were choking him. “I don’t want to see this, I don’t want to remember this!”

The girl continued molding Eren’s body, not saying a thing.

Zeke knew. This silent little girl must be the original Founding Titan, Ymir Fritz. Who else would be in this place, molding the bodies of shifters? Who else would have called him here?

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, his voice trembling weakly. “I don't want to do this anymore...”

They had obtained the power of the Founding and they could use it as soon as Eren awakened. But these chains around his neck were binding him as a royal and he couldn’t use the power for his own purpose until he found a way to break them.

“I don't want to see anymore..." He held his head in his hands, pleading. "Please...!”

He was travelling through his own memories in order to find the answer but he couldn’t handle reliving all this pain. He didn't even know what he was looking for.

He was sure that he would lose his mind before he found it.

"No...stop...!" He grasped at the earth beneath him, begging for someone to listen. “NO.”

He was sucked into another memory.

Notes:

I love analyzing the Shiganshina battle, especially Zeke’s reactions to the warriors’ deaths. First he thinks Magath & Pieck are dead. His line in Japanese literally translates to, “So this is where you meet your end, Pieck-chan.” This line always surprises me because its a little too quick to accept her death. His eyes are sympathetic but he doesn’t show any regret or remorse in his inner thoughts. His reaction to Colt is fucking huge in comparison. His face is blatantly and poignantly anguished and in pain throughout their whole conversation. He shows true regret & understanding of the gravity of what he’s doing. Unfortunately we don’t see a reaction to Pokko’s death because Zeke was too busy almost getting killed. But I assume it’s similar to his reaction to Pieck’s.

Unpopular opinion but I get irrationally annoyed when people classify Zeke as a ‘warrior’. It tells me immediately the person doesn’t understand Zeke’s character or his motivations. He is not a warrior; he never was a warrior. He is the most individualistic character in the entire story, loyal to no one except himself & Ksaver's ideals. He cared for the warriors but he lied to them for his entire life & was willing to sacrifice all their lives for his plan. And he did sacrifice them. And this is what Isayama means, I believe, when he says Eren understood love while Zeke did not, & that’s why Ymir chose Eren.

But the best thing about Zeke? He has a fat ass. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Chapter 15: disgrace me

Summary:

Zeke sees more past memories and breaks the chains, releasing him from the Vow of Renouncing War.

Zeke clenched and braced himself as he was pulled into the next memory.

The military performed experiments on the warrior candidates when they first inherited their titans. They fired cannons at Reiner to test his armour, forced Pieck underwater to test her endurance, made Bertholdt kill thousands with his destructive power. They forced needles in Annie’s eyes and it wasn’t uncommon to see Marcel throwing up and Porco helping him through it with a hand on his back. Sick from whatever substance they forced in his mouth that day, testing the strength of his jaw.

The Beast Titan was known throughout Marleyan history for being weak and useless in battle. His unique ape-form was no different. It had noticeably long, thin arms and legs with no particular abilities to speak of, unlike the others. But thanks to Ksaver, Zeke’s strong pitching arm changed that. His long-distance attacks were unmatched and deadly, striking fear into their enemy nations. Then there was the power of his scream.

It was an accident, the first time. He hadn’t meant to turn anyone into mindless titans or control them. Marley had been using Eldians from the internment zone as test subjects for decades, releasing gas with spinal fluid onto them, just to see what would happen. Zeke had screamed for an unrelated reason during the battle and the Eldians had exploded and transformed. It traumatized him completely. But of course, the military paid no mind to that and forced him to do it again. And again. And again.

Zeke was strapped down to operating tables, needles pushed into his spine to extract the fluid and study it under microscopes, trying to find out what made him different. His blood tests showed up with nothing, as Marley had no knowledge of Dina’s royal bloodline; in hiding for so many years. Zeke was the last descendant of royals outside of Paradis and he would ensure that it stayed that way. The royal bloodline would die with him. Marley would never discover the truth or force him to sire children.

The doctors were at a loss, no matter how extensively they tried to study his body. Zeke was clearly special but there was no scientific explanation as to why. They stuck needles in his nose and ears, cutting off his skin to test his regenerative abilities. His nails would scrabble at the metal table beneath him, painful tears and snot running down his face. It hurt. Marley didn’t treat them like they were humans. They were simply tools and weapons of war.

They studied his titan form also, climbing onto his shoulders and testing his hardening abilities. Blowing him up with artillery and shooting at him. They poked at his human-like hands and feet, pulled out his sharp teeth and long nails so they could watch them regrow.

The memory of the pain still made him sweat and his body shake. He regenerated almost instantly and so his trauma and pain was simply brushed aside. But it stayed with him always. It stayed with all of them.

After the Paradis mission began, the warriors were reduced from seven down to three. They were constantly at war with neighbouring nations, stuck in the trenches or on ships for months at a time.

Porco was brooding and resentful always about Reiner being chosen as the Armored Titan instead of him. He had a permanent scowl; irritated with the unfairness of this cruel world. But both Pieck and Zeke knew that more than anything, he was worried about Marcel and desperate to see his brother again.

Zeke knew the truth. Marcel had manipulated the candidate system and assured that Porco would not be chosen. He had asked Zeke not to tell Porco and the blond had respected that. But the situation was baffling to him. Clearly, Porco was the more suitable candidate and fated to become a shifter. What did it mean to protect someone from their fate? Life was meaningless and death should be a relief, so he couldn’t fathom it. Only years later would he finally understand: the desire of an older brother to protect their younger brother.

During those days, Pieck spent a lot of time with her newly-formed Panzer Unit. They were a group of young Marleyan soldiers who blushed whenever she so much as turned her head in their direction. But Pieck and Porco were inseparable. Even though Porco didn’t have a titan, he fought and supported them from the trenches, his exceptional physical abilities on par with his brother’s. Because of his closeness with Pieck, he was friendly with the Panzer Unit also, and they and Pieck were the only ones who got away with calling him by his nickname.

Zeke was friendly and fake with almost everyone, so used to lying about the simplest things. Being stuck in the trenches for months made him restless and bored, sleeping around with random Eldian soldiers in the rare times they had privacy. He would rub up against the soldiers in the dark of night, pulling his pants down his legs and covering his mouth to muffle his voice. Bending over for them or taking two or three men in his mouth at a time. The Eldian Unit was replaceable fodder and he never remembered their names or faces, and they usually died the next day or the following anyway.

They won the battle on a sunny afternoon when Zeke was twenty-two. Porco’s tiny human body ran out into the line of fire, taking out their enemy’s artillery with a grenade. Pieck’s Cart Titan loomed over him to defend him and Zeke took out the rest of enemy combatants from afar with his projectiles.

After the battle was won, Magath was furious, scolding Porco and hitting him over the head for being so reckless. The young man could have easily died and Marley would have lost their most promising warrior candidate. But beneath the fearsome anger of a Marleyan superior, Magath seemed relieved that Porco was alive.

Zeke, Porco and Pieck sat together afterwards, their clothes tattered and their skin coated in layers of dark soot and gunpowder. They watched the corpses of the Eldian Unit being carried away on stretchers, the nameless sacrifices the military had been willing to make. They munched on sandwiches as they watched with tired eyes, so desensitized to war and the deaths of their brethren.

Pieck pushed her food to the side of her mouth and said out of nowhere, “What type of men do you like, anyway, Zeke? Why have you never dated Pokko? He was so cool today.”

“Because I’m not gay,” Porco scowled. He turned to Zeke, a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and voice irritatingly sincere. “I’d date you if I was, though. Age aside, you’re not that ugly.”

Zeke frowned. He was not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment. He ignored the young man, instead answering Pieck. “I’m not telling you. You’ll just make fun of me.”

Pieck feigned offence, a hand to her chest. “Whyever would you say such a thing?”

“You and little Annie used to make fun of me all the time!”

“In their defense,” Porco cut in. “It was very, very funny.”

“It was.” Pieck nodded. “But I promise I won’t make fun of you this time. Pokko won’t either, right?”

“Don’t call me that,” the young man said muffledly through his sandwich.

“He promises, too.”

Zeke knew that Pieck’s teasing was lighthearted and well-intentioned. She never joked about delicate subjects, like the rope burns on his wrists or the strange muffled sounds he made after disappearing around the corner with nameless soldiers in the trenches. Only to emerge later looking tousled with reddened cheeks. She looked at him with wariness and mistrust sometimes, but she was smart enough to know where the line was. Zeke mulled it over, still not entirely convinced. ”...Well, I like older men. With authoritative personalities.”

Pieck’s face scrunched up and she squinted as she chewed, like she was sucking on a particularly sour lemon. “Are you describing Commander Magath?”

“What?” Zeke’s eyes widened. “No!”

Porco put another patronizing hand on his shoulder. “That’s weird, man.”

“I said I wasn’t!” Zeke snapped.

Pieck eyed him shiftily. “You do flirt with him sometimes.” She turned to Porco. “Remember when he was drunk that one time and kept talking about his ass technique?”

Zeke gasped exaggeratedly. “How dare you. It was an ass-wiping technique and it was extremely funny.”

“Hey!” Magath’s voice barked at them.

All three of them jumped, jolting to their feet and saluting, their sandwiches dropping from their laps to the ground.

“Fuck me,” Porco said under his breath, looking down at his sandwich.

Magath approached them, a cigarette hanging between his lips. “Stop slacking and help with the cleanup.”

“Yes, sir!”

Porco and Pieck moved to follow the man’s orders, but not before Zeke pulled them closer to him; an arm around Porco’s shoulders and the other around Pieck’s. He pulled them in, ruffling their hair roughly and Porco protested loudly, his meticulously styled hair a mess. Pieck just laughed, open and genuine.

They had survived another battle that day, though there would be another tomorrow.

Zeke knew he shouldn’t get attached. He told himself he wasn’t, even though his actions said otherwise.

As Zeke watched, the memories of that time blended together; mixing his true self with the fake. How much was a lie? How much was real? Even as he watched the memory through lidded eyes and hitching breaths, he couldn’t tell when his younger self was lying or being truthful.

The Anti-Marleyan Volunteers were growing steadily around that time, meeting regularly in secret and recruiting members. There was a new member, a good-looking man whose home country was overtaken by Marley. He had been conscripted into the military and was a skilled pilot and engineer and Yelena had recruited him personally.

“What was your name again?” Zeke asked him.

The dark-skinned man smiled handsomely. “Onyankopon.”

“Right. Onyan...” Zeke attempted. “Onyaa...”

Yelena crossed her arms over her chest, repeating easily, “Onyankopon.”

“Onyanka...” Zeke’s eyebrows screwed together in difficulty. “Onyanyan?”

Onyankopon sighed. “Yes.”

“I knew it. I’m very good with names.” Zeke nodded. “Well then, Onyankonyan, your skills are highly impressive... I think you and Yelena would work well together.” He looked up, studying the man’s features. “You’re very handsome, by the way. Are you into men by any chance, Onyanpo?”

Yelena closed her eyes. “You don’t have to answer that.”

Onyankopon smiled good-naturedly, although he looked a little confused. “Uh no, I’m sorry, I’m straight actually...”

“Damn.” Zeke was disappointed but he shrugged it off easily. “Well, nothing we can do about that. Let me know if you’re ever interested in experimenting, though, I’m very good with my mouth.” He made a lewd gesture with his hands.

Yelena pinched the skin between her eyebrows. “He’s joking.”

“Am I, Yelena?” Zeke looked at her pointedly. “Am I?”

”...You’re different to what I imagined.” Onyankopon didn’t seem offended but simply surprised. “From your Beast Titan, I mean.”

Zeke showed his teeth, grinning a wide smile. “Oh, you have no idea, Onyapoko.”

He was sucked into a memory of when he was twenty-six, when by Zeke’s recommendation, Colt was chosen to be his successor. He had watched the boy grow from a child into a young man, working so hard; much harder than his peers. All his efforts to be perfect and impeccable. The boy was baffling to Zeke. He should be resentful and vengeful, after everything that had happened between their families. But he never showed any bad feelings towards Zeke at all, his eyes lighting up in boyish admiration whenever he saw him.

They built up their trust in each other by spending time together, playing catch or going out for food. Colt always talked about Falco, complaining fondly or speaking of him with pride. Colt didn’t want his little brother to be chosen as a warrior candidate and have his lifespan reduced. He was already making that sacrifice for their family and he didn’t see any reason for Falco to do the same. Zeke would often remind him not to say that out loud, at risk of being heard by their Marleyan superiors. But he understood. The desire to protect one’s little brother and suffer in their place.

They sat down together against the wall one day after a session of catch ball. It was the same place Zeke used to sit with Ksaver, a place of tears and laughter and strengthening bonds.

“I think I’m just naturally uncoordinated,” Colt laughed. “Every time I throw, it just goes right over your head! Even though I’m aiming for your chest!”

“It’s alright,” Zeke snickered, lighting a cigarette. “You’ll get better with time.”

Zeke was teaching him how to pitch in his unique style of projectile attacks. Even since Zeke inherited his titan, the Beast Titan became Marley’s pride and General Calvi often told him it was such a shame he had only a few years left of his lifespan. The military was aware that Colt’s Beast Titan would have its own unique animal form, but Zeke hoped he could give him some kind of advantage by teaching him as much as he could.

Colt was fidgeting awkwardly and ventured, “I don’t know if this is crossing a line or something, but... I wanted to ask you... if you’re okay?”

Zeke looked over to him, blowing out smoke and blinking in befuddlement.

“You always seem... kind of sad,” Colt continued, staring at the grass. “You hide it, but I can tell because I’m always looking at you.” He looked quickly up at his mentor, his cheeks flushing. “Not in a weird way! I just mean... because I admire you very much. I’ve always admired you.” He looked back down at the ground, playing with his fingers distractedly. “I know our families have some... history.” That was an understatement. “But I want you to know that I’ve never blamed you for that.” He looked up at Zeke and his eyes were so earnest. “You had to do it, to protect your grandparents. You would have been sent to paradise otherwise.”

Colt’s uncle had looked a lot like Colt. He and Grisha had been close and Zeke remembered him coming over to their house often. After their exile, his grandparents and the Grice’s avoided each other completely. It was an unspoken dark cloud over both their families. The chilling fear of inciting suspicion again and the threat of punishment from Marley. They had already lost so much.

“I know I don’t have the experience or knowledge you have,” Colt’s voice was quiet and unsure. “But if there’s anything I can help you with... even if you just need someone to listen...” He deflated visibly, like he already knew he wasn’t good enough.

Zeke sucked on his cigarette, the end glowing with embers. Colt was too pure. If only he could tell him everything.

”...I’m perfectly fine, Colt.” He leaned over to ruffle the boy’s hair and Colt flushed and swiped his hands away. “Don’t look so depressed,” he laughed. “I chose you to be my successor. That’s because I see greatness in you.”

Colt flushed darker, his lips curling into a shy smile.

Yes. Perhaps that’s why he had chosen Colt. If it was going to be anyone, he wanted it to be him. If the time came and fate decided that he would be eaten, there wasn’t anyone he would rather receive his memories.

The memories of his life full of pain.

Maybe Colt would understand him, if no one else.

Zeke watched the memory with lidded eyes full of tears. He lay flat on the ground, pressing his face into it and clutching at his chest.

He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. “Unngghhh.” His heart was squeezing so painfully like it was ripping out of his ribcage. He just wanted these memories to stop.

Zeke had brought nothing but misfortune and tragedy to the Grice family.

Grisha had damned his own friend to exile and Zeke had sent them both to paradise. Zeke had chosen Colt as his successor, dooming him to follow in his footsteps. Eren had manipulated and used little Falco for their plan, taking advantage of his naivety and trust. And now Zeke had turned Falco into a titan and killed Colt.

Heavy, fat tears slid down Zeke’s face as he grasped at his chest.

How could he ever repent for these sins?

How could he ever be forgiven?

Zeke’s skin was clammy with sweat and he rolled himself over, the chains clanging around his neck and his long hair falling into his eyes.

He had been stuck here in Paths for years being tortured with these memories. Or perhaps it was only an instant in time and he was simply losing his mind.

“Eren,” he mouthed weakly. But his brother couldn’t hear him, still motionless and unconscious.

Everything Zeke had done was to save his little brother and the world. How long was he going to be tortured like this? He would go insane.

Please stop, Zeke begged to no one.

But he was pulled inside the next memory.

During the time that Yelena and Onyankopon infiltrated the scouting ships, Zeke simply waited and waited for their contact. He felt lost and alone very often during those years, at war with the Mid-Eastern Alliance. With Reiner back, the warriors spent a lot of time becoming closer, playing with the little candidates.

Porco and Pieck had a ‘contest’; a ‘game’ they liked to play. They would cut off one of their limbs and compete to see who could regenerate faster. Whoever lost had to buy the drinks for everyone. It wasn’t uncommon to see Gabi picking up one of their severed limbs, chasing Falco, Udo and Zofia with it and laughing maniacally, while the other three candidates screamed and cried.

Porco would almost piss himself with how hard he laughed and Falco, Udo and Zofia would run into Reiner and Colt’s arms.

The warriors were like a little family, becoming closer every day.

But Zeke felt the opposite, becoming more and more distant.

The warriors decided to go out drinking one night in this foreign city they were stationed in, celebrating another victory against the Mid-East. Pieck was eager to get Colt drunk and give them a funny show and even Reiner was joining them; he and Porco seemed to get along better when they drank. They invited Zeke along but he turned them down, instead cooping himself up in his room with his books and record player.

The records he owned were scratchy and old, instrumentals gifted to him by his grandfather. The novel he was reading recently was a love story. It was incredibly tragic; forbidden love and secret trysts. He didn’t understand the appeal. The hero was obnoxious and stupid and the heroine annoyed him. He hoped they would die at the end. At least then it would be funny.

“I love you,” the hero said. “But we can’t be together.”

“Stupid bitch,” Zeke said out loud, scowling down at the page.

That was when his door opened and Friedrich stumbled in, shutting the door clumsily behind him. Zeke looked up at him in surprise.

The man turned and approached the bed but he couldn’t seem to walk in a straight line. He removed his gun and put it on the bedside table and when he suddenly smiled, it took the blond completely off-guard.

“Heeey,” he slurred. “I got promo-” He hiccupped. “-ted!” He sat down on the bed heavily next to him and Zeke bounced with the motion.

Zeke was aware he had been promoted. Their recent victory against the Mid-East had been largely thanks to Friedrich’s strategy. Magath had pinned a new badge on his lapel and they had gone out into this foreign city to go drinking with the other Marleyan soldiers.

Zeke could smell the alcohol on him, his expression relaxed and eyes lidded. The man squinted at the book in Zeke’s hands, leaning in closer towards him. “What’re you doing? Are you being gross again?”

“I’m always gross,” Zeke replied easily, eyeing him curiously as he closed his book. He had never seen the man this drunk before, so relaxed and open. “...You’re acting weird, Officer.”

“That’s because...” Friedrich was slurring slightly. “Guess what? I got promoted.” He looked down at his uniform jacket and pulled the lapel out to show him the shiny new badge.

Zeke raised his eyebrows in amusement. “You said that already.”

“Did I?” Friedrich paused. “Oh.”

He actually snorted and laughed at himself then, genuinely, and Zeke couldn’t take his eyes away. When he smiled and laughed he showed his teeth and it was incredibly charming. He never usually smiled at all, let alone like that. So defenseless and unguarded.

Friedrich drunkenly pulled off his uniform jacket and boots, throwing them messily onto the floor. He leaned over on his side. “Commander Magath offered t’go to a brothel to celebrate. But I turned him down.”

Zeke raised one eyebrow. “How proper of you.”

The man grinned, shuffling closer so he came right up next to Zeke. “Maybe I told him I already have a whore.”

Zeke frowned. “That’s mean.”

“Aren’t you happy I came here instead?”

“Should I be?” The man was acting weird and Zeke felt the urge to tease him back. “You’re drunk and probably can’t even get it up.”

“Wha-...!” Friedrich’s eyes widened and he grabbed him, pouncing and pushing him down. They wrestled with each other but it wasn’t overly rough or aggressive, and Zeke had to repress the urge to laugh. It was a play-wrestle more than anything, the man pressing his forearm against Zeke’s neck, holding him down and pulling the book away from him.

Friedrich tossed the book lightly onto the bedside table next to his gun then released Zeke, flopping over onto his back next to him.

“Fuck, I’m going t’be thirty soon. Yuck,” he slurred. He turned his head to Zeke, his expression shifting like he had just realized something. “How old are you, anyway?”

“...Twenty-seven.”

“Oh.” Friedrich looked back up at the ceiling. Then he frowned and turned back to Zeke again. “Why’ve I never asked you that before?”

“I don’t know.” Zeke was shaking his head in amusement. “Maybe because you’re always too busy fucking me senseless.”

“Ohh.”

There was a long silence then and Zeke furrowed his eyebrows, feeling out of his depth. The man was acting so different to what he was used to. He was almost goofy. Zeke was familiar with angry drunks and emotional drunks, even turning into them himself depending on the alcohol he consumed. But he never would have guessed that Friedrich, of all people, would be like this.

Friedrich’s voice sounded odd and vulnerable. “Sometimes I wish I... if I wasn’t Marleyan, I...” He trailed off and Zeke wondered what he was trying to say. “I wonder what I’m doing all this for.”

The quiet, crackling music from his record player in the background sounded strangely sad and Zeke swallowed. “...Me too.”

“My parents called and...” Friedrich slurred drunkenly. “They’ve been wanting me t’get married and have children, but I... I’m not...” He trailed off again. Straight? Interested in bringing a child into this world full of suffering? He didn’t finish his sentence, swallowing. “That’s why I joined the military. Running away from,” he hiccupped, “my responsibilities.”

Zeke inhaled deeply then breathed out, digging his fingernails into his skin. Well. That was personal. Military service was mandatory for Eldians and other races, but it was not required for ethnic Marleyans. He had always wondered what were the reasons for a Marleyan to choose such a profession, when they could simply stand back and allow the lower races to fight and die for them. “...You’re talkative when you’re drunk.”

Friedrich laughed but it sounded bitter, an arm over his eyes. “Yeah.”

Zeke listened to the instrumentals swelling in the background and Friedrich suddenly took his arm away from his face, turning to him and leaning over. He climbed on top of him and Zeke let him do it. His clumsy hands stripped off his bed clothes and Zeke let him do that, too.

Friedrich used the oil from the bedside table and pushed his fingers inside him, coating his member with it and pushing it inside. He sunk in deep and pressed his face into Zeke’s neck. His hips started to move and Zeke spread his legs wider and hooked them around his waist, pulling him forwards and deeper. The thrusts were messy and desperate; clumsy in his drunken state. He wrapped his warm hand around Zeke’s neck. He just held it there, a light pressure, and Zeke adored the feeling as much as he couldn’t bear it.

Then Friedrich leaned his face down and licked over his lips, kissing him.

It was rare for them to kiss but when they did, it was never romantic; just while they were fucking and in the moment. They would make-out roughly, tangling tongues hotly and licking over each other’s lips.

But the things Friedrich had told him were too personal. He was drunk and acting weirdly affectionate and Zeke felt laughably out of control.

He tasted like whiskey.

Zeke pulled his head to the side, avoiding his lips. “Don’t kiss me.”

“Why not?” Friedrich thrusted his hips pointedly and Zeke clenched, legs clinging to him. “You always get so tight when I kiss you.”

“I don’t...” Everything was different today. Friedrich was acting too strange. It was too intimate. ”...want to.”

Friedrich stared at him, seeming almost annoyed, like he could see through his thoughts. He sniffed. “...Fine.”

The man pressed his face into Zeke’s neck and wrapped a hand around the blond’s erection, rubbing it between their bodies. He pressed his hips up, kneading up hard against his prostate, and when Zeke came, he whined and splattered into the man’s fist. It took a little while for Friedrich to finish in his drunken state, but when he did, he groaned and pressed wet lips against the blond’s neck and chin and the corner of his mouth.

Zeke felt like he was going insane.

Afterwards, Friedrich didn’t want to move, still lying half on top of him. Usually he left immediately after sex and wouldn’t even dream of staying overnight. But he was clearly only acting this way because he was drunk so Zeke just let him lie there to sleep off the alcohol.

“Hey,” Friedrich said muffledly against his collarbone.

“What.” Zeke sighed. “Just go to sleep. You’re drunk.”

There was a pause and Zeke thought he may have drifted off. But then he said in a quiet voice, “...I was lying when I told you I’m not gay.”

The blond huffed amusedly. That was fucking obvious. Zeke saw right through Friedrich’s denial and self-loathing from the moment they met. “I know.”

There was another pause before he finally said, “...It’s a shame you’re an Eldian devil.”

And that was Zeke’s turn to pause, before he said quietly, “...I know.”

When he woke up the next morning, Friedrich was sitting on the edge of his bed and clutching his head. His shirt was half open and his hair a complete mess. Zeke was trying very hard not to laugh at the sight.

Friedrich noticed he was awake and he seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. “...Did I say something? Last night.”

“Not really. You were quite drunk. Very handsy and clingy," the blond teased. "It was cute.”

Friedrich scowled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Zeke was almost relieved to see that familiar expression. “...I don’t intend to.”

It was the first and last time Friedrich ever came to his room drunk. The man never found out the things he revealed to Zeke that night, about his family, about his sexuality and about his insecurities. Zeke never told him, keeping it all to himself. But Zeke could never forget it, for as long as he lived.

The chains clanged around his neck as Zeke rolled his face to the side, averting his eyes away from the memory. There were silent tears running down his face.

He was so tired. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this. His voice was a hoarse rasp. “Eren.”

Ymir Fritz was still molding his brother’s body with her tiny hands. But for a moment, he thought he saw Eren’s fingers twitch.

“Eren,” Zeke whispered. “Please.” He tugged weakly at the chains. “Please, wake up.”

He was pulled into his memory of Eren.

When his brother first came to Marley, Zeke would visit him at the hospital often to exchange information and plan their next moves. But he also went to visit him for no particular reason at all.

“How are you, Eren? Are you eating enough?”

“Have you fucked any of the nurses at the hospital yet, Eren?”

“What about friends? Have you made any friends?”

“Doesn’t your ass get sore sitting on that bench all the time? I can give you a cushion.”

“I brought another mitt. Let’s play catch.”

“You’re my little brother. I promised I would save you and I meant it.”

“Eren.”

His brother often seemed like his mind was elsewhere. Searching through and seeing memories of the lives of the previous inheritors. Zeke was familiar with the feeling. It was something all shifters got used to with time.

Zeke continuously had dreams of his brother during those months; both pure and impure ones that he wished he could control and made him want to curl up and disappear in his self-loathing. He was so ashamed and he was unable to look his brother in the eye afterwards. But Eren always met his eyes straight on. Intensely, like he was looking all the way into the deepest crevices of his soul to turn him inside out. He felt very vulnerable in his brother’s presence but a part of him also liked it. That he finally had someone he could trust so completely.

He brought lunch to the hospital and they sat side-by-side on the bench and ate together. Zeke told him about all the different customs in Marley and asked Eren about what it was like in Paradis. He chattered brightly, blabbering on and on, so happy to have his little brother there beside him.

Eren turned to him, eyeing his face carefully. “Brother, you have something...” he pointed to his own cheek.

Zeke reached up to wipe his beard and mouth but clearly he missed because Eren huffed and reached out to brush it off for him. But he stopped himself almost immediately, seemingly remembering they weren’t supposed to touch. He used a handkerchief instead, brushing the crumbs out of his older brother’s beard.

Zeke’s face reddened with an embarrassed flush. He was supposed to be his mature older brother, taking care of his younger one, not the other way around.

Eren was just staring at him, studying his face and flushing cheeks and he looked amused. His gaze was burning and meaningful but at the time he didn’t know what it meant.

Zeke almost thought... that he was doing it all on purpose.

There was the prickling at the back of his consciousness again, even as he watched the memory. That familiar warning that something wasn’t right.

The moment Zeke caught Eren’s head in the palm of his hand, memories flowed into his mind. And as he watched this memory, they flowed through him again. Vague flashes and shards of conversations with Yelena, with the leader of the Jaegerists and with the Scouts. He saw Grisha’s memories and the previous inheritors; a tall man with sunken eyes in a military uniform, a young woman with bright eyes who resembled Eren. It all jumbled together in mismatched pieces and disjointed shards.

Eren was lying.

His instincts screamed. Just like they had when he threw the baseball and his brother had failed to catch it.

Eren’s words were a lie.

His little brother had been brainwashed and was struggling. Just as Zeke had been brainwashed and still struggled even now. That vile excuse of a father had corrupted his little brother. And as his big brother, Zeke needed to save him.

He loved Eren no matter what. He needed to show him the truth about their father.

The chains around his neck clattered loudly, breaking and crumbling into pieces.

Zeke sat up slowly in weak surprise. He looked down at the broken chains on his lap, turning back into sand and earth. He scooped a handful of it and it sifted through his fingers. He grasped at his bare neck with his other hand, body feeling light from the heavy chains he was no longer burdened with.

His life had been nothing but lies, betrayal, pain and suffering. Was it Ymir's will that broke the chains?

Or was it his own?

And that was when Eren woke up.

Notes:

I want to write about Zeke in the high school AU sometime. Zeke would canonically be a cult leader in a peaceful world - this is so fucking funny to me & I can’t believe no one talks about it. I’ve seen the argument that if Zeke was loved or had different circumstances he wouldn’t be a fanatic/antinatalist/nihilist anymore but I’ve never agreed with that. The high school AU proves otherwise: Zeke would still be a fucking weirdo with extreme views because that’s who he is, even in a peaceful world with a better childhood.

Also noteworthy in the AU, Zeke is with Yelena & Onyankopon. Falco is with Gabi. Pieck is with Porco. To me these are clear indications of who is loyal to whom & what kind of people they are. Zeke is a leader surrounded by other fanatics (Yelena, Zackley) & good people caught up in the flow of fanatics (Onyankopon, Nile). Gabi is a follower because she is young & naive but Falco is by her side protecting her. Pieck & Porco are neutral & inseparable (a reporter & her cameraman).

Manipulative cult leader Zeke who is a homophobic homosexual... is gangbanged by 10 men then wakes up the next morning & preaches to his cult about the importance of ‘love’ & ‘purity’... I can’t be the only one that finds this so funny...

Now moving onto a more serious topic...

A lovely commenter last chapter named mistercrowley reminded me of the bitter truth that Isayama does not agree with me and Zeke does not, in fact, have a fat ass.

I have prepared a diagram for everyone to see for themselves. Observe. Red circle represents ‘fat ass’. Pink circle represents ‘not fat ass’. I know it’s complicated but just stay with me here.

I was sobbing and shitting and crying as I was faced with this grim reminder. But then I found something. I would like to present my findings that I have not edited at all.

Much to think about, correct? I hope you will all take this into consideration when deciding for yourself whether Zeke has a fat ass. Thank you for listening.

 

Chapter 16: abuse me

Summary:

Zeke tries to show Eren the truth about their father, taking him on a journey through Grisha's memories.

Notes:

This chapter was originally going to be the last but it got way too long so I split it in two. I guess Zeke will have to suffer at my whims for an extra chapter!

Warning for some incest-ish? Though it’s not explicit. Eren is manipulative and cruel as usual while Zeke is unwilling because he genuinely feels it’s wrong.

Eren’s body shifted unconsciously as the chains around Zeke’s neck crumbled.

Zeke sat up slowly, straightening as he wiped his face with his bare arm - of all the years worth of tears he had just shed. His eyes were sore and red-rimmed, his hair and nails wildly overgrown with time.

So he wasn’t going insane then. He truly had been here for years.

He looked down in confusion at the earth and sand on his lap that were chains just moments ago. This is what Ksaver had meant a decade back, when he told him that members of the royal bloodline would be bound by the Vow of Renouncing War. Zeke glanced back up at Ymir Fritz. She had finished recreating Eren’s body and his brother was rousing back into consciousness.

Zeke frowned to himself. How had he broken these chains? The last memory he saw had been of Eren in Marley with his instincts urging him to be wary. Deep down, he knew Eren had been lying.

Was it because he now had a clear will and purpose? He wished for it and the chains were broken?

He swallowed drily. It wasn’t Eren’s fault. He was just a boy and Grisha had brainwashed him to do as he wanted. Zeke needed to test his brother and hear his true thoughts.

Eren’s body was moving restlessly but he wasn’t quite conscious yet.

Zeke slid his gaze over to Ymir’s tiny form and opened his dry lips. “Founding Ymir...” His voice was hoarse with years of disuse and he coughed and cleared his throat. “Founding Ymir. Can you...” He paused. He needed to test his theory. It only needed to be something simple. “Make me a... sheep.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ymir’s body straightened. She disappeared from in front of him and Zeke searched for her wildly back and forth. Then he noticed a lump of earth sitting innocently before him, formed into the shape of a sheep. Zeke opened his mouth then closed it again. He reached out towards it with a trembling finger and poked it gingerly with his overgrown nail. It was cute.

“Founding Ymir.” He repeated, voice sounding stronger this time. “Make me a monkey for my sheep.”

A lump of earth in the shape of a monkey appeared in front of him, nudged up cozily next to the sheep.

Zeke blinked and picked them both up, studying them carefully in his hands. They were remarkably detailed, like decorative ornaments from the mansions of nobles. The patterns of fur and wool swirled outwards like intricate carvings on their surface. When he squeezed them in his hands they crumbled back into earth.

He looked back up at Ymir, standing off to the side. She was still and faced towards him, like she was waiting for his next order. A slave to his royal blood. So the journey through his memories had been by her power because he wished for it. His own will.

“Founding Ymir.” His voice was quiet and calm. “Make some chains around my neck. Just like before.”

She moved at the sound of his voice and he felt the heavy weight almost immediately; the chains clanging around his neck as they appeared from nothing. They were identical to the real ones and felt cold and smooth to the touch.

Eren would wake at any moment now. Zeke loved his brother more than anything but he needed to know if he could trust him. He believed in him but he needed to be sure. He would test him using these fake chains.

Zeke crossed his legs and settled down to wait.

The first thing that happened when Eren woke up was Zeke used the power of Paths to make his brother a jacket. He was worried he might get cold. Strangely enough, in all the years he had been stuck here, it had never occurred to him to give himself one.

Eren was staring up at the tree of light in reverence, the same way Zeke had when they first arrived. It felt like years ago for him. But for Eren, it had only been an instant.

When Zeke called out to him, his voice sounded strained and weary. He explained to Eren what had happened at the battle in Shiganshina. They made contact and were transported here to the Coordinate. His brother was unsettled by Ymir’s presence and Zeke calmly told him who she was. They had unlocked the power of the Founding Titan and they could save the world.

When Eren asked him what the chains around his neck were, Zeke felt happy despite himself. His brother cared enough to notice them. He mixed the truth with the lies: The First King’s Vow of Renouncing War bound his royal blood and prevented him from using the power. Only Eren had the ability to make their dream a reality.

Zeke truly despised himself for lying to his own brother. He had been lying to the people around him for his entire life but Eren was the one person he wanted to be truthful with. Zeke’s eyes pleaded with him. He had been working for this moment his whole life. He had been waiting here in Paths for years. All for the sake of this moment.

But Eren’s eyes were soulless. They looked at him with such contempt as he told him how foolish his euthanasia plan was. And when he said, “I’m sorry, Brother,” for he had only been using him to arrive here, Zeke felt his entire world crumble beneath his feet.

His eyes widened in slow horror and his face twisted in anguish, head falling into his hands in hopelessness. It was his worst nightmare. Grisha’s brainwashing and influence had reached it’s spindling fingers outwards, corrupting and tainting even his baby brother. Everything was always that man’s fault.

He hadn’t wanted to believe his brother would use him. Why couldn’t he understand? Eldians would continue to suffer endlessly and the world would always live in fear of them. This cycle of unending war and pain would never cease. The only way to end it was to ensure no more children were born.

But Eren’s words made him pause in utter perplexity.

Because I was born into this world.

Was that what Grisha had drilled into his head? The foolishness of natalism that not only allowed but ensured suffering?

Ymir refused to follow Eren’s orders, kneeling before Zeke; a slave to his royal blood. The blond swallowed, breathing out shakily and swiping the long hair out of his eyes. He needed to show Eren. Zeke broke the fake chains around his neck, rising to his feet and they crumbled back into earth and sand.

Eren was staring at him in a stupor, his limbs frozen in place and Zeke ordered Ymir to bind him immediately. Chains appeared from nothing, clasping tightly around Eren’s wrists and he looked down at them in a daze.

Zeke’s eyes were full of compassion as he approached his brother. “This is not your fault,” he assured him. “I’ll fix you.”

But Eren’s expression shifted suddenly as he watched him come closer, his eyes going cold and lifeless. He opened his mouth and his tone was unfeeling when he drawled, “Did you enjoy your dreams of me fucking you, Brother?”

Zeke’s body froze in mid-step, stomach sinking with that familiar feeling of dread. His voice was small and trembling. “...What?”

Eren’s bright eyes looked fiendish, pinning him down like an insect. “When we touched. My memories flowed into you, didn’t they? Your memories flowed into me, too.” The corner of his lip turned up, devilish and cruel. “Besides, you showed everything on your face. Back when we met in Marley.”

“Wh...” Zeke stared at him in horror, his mouth opening and closing again. “I didn’t...” He shook his head back and forth. “I wouldn’t...”

Eren looked calmly down at the chains around his wrists, pulling at them uninterestedly. He sounded too casual when he looked back up at him. “I’ll fuck you if you take these off.”

“Don’t... ” Zeke flinched at the words, clenching his teeth. “Say that. I never wanted that.” He took another shaky step towards him. “I have only ever loved you as a brother.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying...!” Zeke came up close, raising his hands and putting them on Eren’s shoulders in assurance. It was the first time they had ever touched properly and Eren’s eyes widened minutely. “I’m your big brother.” He looked him straight in the eyes. He would show him the truth. He accepted all of him, his fearsome rage and violence without shying away. “I’ll save you.”

He put a gentle hand on the back of Eren’s head, pulling their foreheads together until they touched. A flash struck them like electricity and they were engulfed, pulling them into the whiteness of the unknown.

He would save Eren. Just like Ksaver had saved Zeke.

Zeke pulled them both into Grisha’s memories using the power of the Founding Titan.

As they stepped through the doorway, the first thing Zeke did was create clothes for himself. A white shirt and coat with a hood. Perhaps he wasn’t conscious of it, but the contrast of white against Eren’s black was striking.

The brothers observed Grisha’s memory of when Eren was just a baby.

But the Eren standing next to him was unimpressed as he stared at his past self. “Dad’s memories? I thought you were taking us to a special place so we can fuck,” he drawled dully.

“No.” Zeke frowned at him, heart thudding in his chest and cheeks feeling heated. “I’ll show you that he brainwashed you. As many times as you need to see it.” He pursed his lips, turning his head back towards the scene. “That’s not funny, either.”

He would show Eren the truth of his upbringing. But a part of him couldn’t deny he also just wanted to see his brother’s childhood. Zeke had never understood the appeal of children. They were loud, useless things that screamed and cried for unfathomable reasons. But Eren... Eren was cute.

Regardless, Zeke couldn’t ignore the bitter feeling that rose up. Grisha’s younger self seemed happy, taking care of his new baby with his new wife. As if Zeke and Dina had never existed. How convenient for Grisha, that he could forget them so easily after destroying their lives.

They continued on through their father’s memories. Zeke watched as Grisha played with Eren. He hugged him and kissed his cheeks and forehead. He showed genuine, unconditional affection that didn’t depend on Eren’s good behaviour or success in his studies. Zeke had known since he was seven that he had never truly been loved. He had come to terms with it over the years thanks to Ksaver, but seeing it so blatantly still hurt.

Grisha was a reputable doctor and he used his influence on the nobles that were his patients, all to steal the Founding Titan. Zeke urged his brother to look at their father: this was who he really was. A manipulative fake who had brainwashed them both with propaganda, nationalism and lies.

But Eren didn’t seem to care much. “I think I’d rather us fuck, to be honest,” he said boredly. “Seems more entertaining than this.”

“Stop saying that.” Zeke bit out, eyeing the sight in front of them. “You’ll see.”

But Grisha had become so comfortable with his new quaint life and family that he postponed his duties to steal the Founding Titan. He cuddled little Eren to his chest, his gentle hands stroking through his tufts of hair.

Zeke was perplexed, unable to take his eyes away. He thought he had tucked these feelings away years ago. He was so pathetic. Zeke had been Grisha’s biggest mistake and it seemed he was making up for it with his second son.

The baby Eren in Grisha’s memories met his eyes, smiling toothily at him and giggling cutely. Zeke blinked in bewilderment, his heart skipping a beat at those bright eyes that melted his soul - it was almost like the child could see him. But as quick as it began, the moment was over and they travelled to the next memory.

They journeyed through the years their father lived. Grisha spent a lot of time in his basement and he napped at his desk, mumbling in his sleep. Zeke startled and turned to him when he heard his name, a murmur of I’m sorry. Grisha woke, looking directly at him and addressing him by name again. But before Zeke could answer, Grisha rubbed his eyes and blinked drowsily, like he was waking from his dream.

Zeke stared at him in shock, mouth open in an unspoken question. These should be memories they were observing. Like music being played back to them through a record player but unable to be changed. Yet Grisha had recognized him, even calling him by name. What was happening?

Little Eren grew older, his childhood full of laughter as he played with his tiny blond friend. He was loved and cherished by his parents and his neighbours in his town. Not cooped up inside studying history books and propaganda, unable to go outside and play.

Zeke breathed out, long and shaky. It seemed that Grisha had loved Eren. But if that was the case, why had his brother betrayed him, then? Why didn’t he want peace? What did he intend to do with the Founding’s power, if not euthanasia?

He became increasingly more anxious. When Eren was nine, he murdered three men by stabbing them to death. They were criminals who deserved to be punished but it was nine-year-old Eren’s reaction that disturbed him and Grisha more than anything else - Eren’s lack of hesitation or remorse as he dehumanized them completely. It wasn’t normal. Grisha scolded the boy as Zeke stared down at him in horrified bewilderment. Such an adorable face with a soul filled with such hate.

Eren beside him was looking at him knowingly. “See?” He told him easily. “I was born like this.” Grisha had not made him this way. This was simply his nature since the moment he was born. His words were unnecessarily cruel. “The only one who can’t face reality is you, Brother. You projected your fucked up daddy issues onto me.”

Zeke had wanted them to comfort each other and to lick each other’s wounds; validate each other’s resentment for their father. The two of them against the world and the only ones who understood each other. But the cute baby brother of Zeke’s dreams didn’t exist in the real world.

Eren could see who Zeke really was: a pathetic man still trapped by his long-dead father.

Zeke’s eyes burned as they welled up and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. It hurt terribly to hear those words from his brother. But he knew Eren was right. His whole life he had been rejecting Grisha’s existence and teachings, yet he simultaneously kept chasing after him, desperate for his affection. Daddy issues, countless men had teased him. It emerged in every aspect of his life and every interaction. His weakness to authority and his fear of intimacy, unable to handle his own emotions.

Zeke sniffed once, blinking rapidly and turning away.

But Eren followed him, reaching out towards him and touching his face. “Are you crying?”

“N-...” Zeke startled at his brother’s touch. He whipped his head back towards him, eyes wide. “No...”

Eren looked amused. He always knew he was lying. “That’s a shame. I would have liked to make you cry.” His thin fingers were icy-cold, dragging over his skin and pushing into his blond hair. “You’d like that too, wouldn’t you?”

Goosebumps rose on the blond’s skin and he gritted his teeth. Eren was so cruel. He was purposely imitating Zeke’s dreams that he had seen in his memories. “No.” Trailing his pale fingers over Zeke’s ear, stroking into his scalp. “I’m your brother.”

“Half-brother. And we’re both men, anyway.” He tugged gently on his blond strands and the feeling made Zeke shiver and his toes curl. “It’s not like anything bad would happen.”

Zeke’s mind was going hazy in his confusion. What were they even doing? His eyes kept getting distracted, drifting over to Grisha in the background with the children.

Eren tugged roughly at his hair, forcing him back to attention. “Brother.” His tone was commanding. “Look at me.”

Zeke immediately obeyed, looking quickly back into his eyes. His heartbeat pulsed deafeningly in his ears.

Eren took a step forward, bringing them closer together. His fingers trailed down his face, staring down at his lips. “I can kiss you, if you’d like.”

“No.” The blond shook his head jerkily, pursing his lips. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not? You wanted to in your dreams.” He stroked gently through Zeke’s beard. “Moaning like a whore. You enjoyed it. You’d like it even more in real life.”

“Stop it,” the blond gritted.

“Stop what?”

“The...” Zeke swallowed thickly. “Manipulations. You’re just trying to make me stop showing you the truth about Grisha.”

Eren huffed a soft laugh, murmuring and leaning in. “I don’t know what you mean.” He slid his other hand slowly down Zeke’s chest, further down between his legs. He leaned in until their breaths mingled, brushing his lips lightly against his. “Brother,” he whispered. His long fingers cupped his crotch and squeezed.

Zeke’s breath caught and he jolted harshly, shoving him roughly away. His cock twitched once and he hated himself for it.

Eren stumbled back a step, rubbing at his chest where his brother had shoved him. “That hurts, Brother.” But he didn’t look very hurt at all. “What’s wrong? I just wanted to compare us.”

Zeke’s eyes darted nervously over to Grisha and his brother’s younger self; the memory still continuing. “They’re right there.”

“They can’t see us." Eren followed his gaze, glancing over at them boredly. "And even if they could, wouldn’t that be more exciting?”

The blond knitted his eyebrows together in distress, disgusted at the thought. “You’re only nine.”

“Yeah. And daddy could watch his grown sons fucking with my nine-year-old self right beside him.” Eren laughed cynically. “Daddy issues, indeed. Some family we are, huh?”

“That’s enough,” Zeke snapped. He swiped a trembling hand over his face and through his sweaty hair. He was so cruel. He repeated it again, quieter. “That’s enough."

Eren just shrugged, as if it didn’t really matter to him, either way.

Zeke could enact his euthanasia plan at any time. Eren was trying to manipulate him to stop showing him these memories. But despite Eren’s cruelty towards him, Zeke refused to abandon his brother and he told him just as much. Ksaver had never abandoned Zeke.

There was something wrong with Eren, since childhood. That was becoming apparent. But even if it wasn’t because of Grisha’s brainwashing, he needed to save his brother. Even if the entire world was against them, he would save Eren if no one else and show him the truth.

Grisha’s memories continued to the day the walls fell. Little Eren argued with his mother about joining the Scouting Legion for the sake of the lives that had already been lost.

Zeke felt his heart squeeze strangely as he heard his brother’s words. Colt, Porco, Friedrich, Udo, Zofia. The thousands of lives he had taken. What were the meanings of their deaths, if not for the sake of euthanasia and peace?

It was becoming clear as they continued on - Grisha was aware of the brothers’ presence beside him. He made eye contact with Eren, speaking directly to him and he lead them away from Shiganshina. Underneath the Reiss Chapel, deep beneath the ground to an enormous cave; luminous and bright with limestone. The Reiss family were gathered there in ritual and worship and Grisha begged them to protect humanity within the walls.

The owner of the Founding Titan was a young woman that Zeke recognized from Eren’s memories. Her voice was dignified and humble and she refused Grisha’s request. She spoke of humanity’s sins and the punishment they had called upon them. Humans are too weak and the power of the titans should have never existed in the first place. In order to prevent more tragedy and end this suffering, Paradis needed to accept the world’s hate and quietly disappear.

Zeke felt moved as she spoke, his heart stirring at her words. She reminded him of a preacher bringing a divine message from god. If only he could have met someone like her in his lifetime. She was his distant relative on Dina’s side and he wondered if this was her will or simply Karl Fritz’ Vow. It was truly a shame that she and her family would all be murdered here today by his father.

Eren had already seen these memories, disappointed in what had occurred and Zeke glanced to his brother beside him. Had Eren been lying about that, too? But when he saw the look on his brother’s face, a violent jolt of fear ran up his spine. “...Eren?”

The memory continued but something felt off. Grisha was about to kill the Reiss family and steal the Founding Titan. But it was not playing out the way he had expected. Grisha was trembling and sweating; weak as he begged the young woman for her help. The Attack Titan had the power of seeing the future and he had already witnessed it.

Zeke’s eyes widened at this revelation. He had never heard such a thing from Ksaver or in any of the books from Marley’s research society. What had Grisha seen in the future?

His father looked small and pathetic as he collapsed onto his knees, unable to bring himself to fulfill his duties and murder this family with his own hands. Zeke felt utterly confused, his mind racing as he stared down at him in shock. Where was the blood-thirsty, evil manipulator that he knew? Where was the father that yelled and screamed at him when he couldn’t recite his restorationist studies?

Zeke watched in confusion as Eren approached their father, kneeling down next to him. He leaned in towards him and with the voice of a devil, he ordered him to stand up. He whispered in Grisha’s ear, to take revenge for Aunt Faye.

“Wh...?” Zeke felt another spine-tingling jolt of fear. “Eren, what are you...?!”

Eren was the snake in the garden leading Grisha into temptation. The devil on his shoulder to Zeke’s angel.

Zeke’s eyes widened slowly as he watched in increasing horror. Because it was Eren’s words that made Grisha stand up. It was Eren that gave him the will to transform into that gruesome monster, tearing the Reiss family apart and squashing the little children beneath his feet.

Zeke turned his head towards his brother, feeling pure terror. And Eren’s gaze simply smoldered at the sight. The luminescent walls of the limestone cave, splattered with the blood of innocents.

Zeke watched in paralyzed confusion as Grisha finally emerged from the chapel when it was over. The man was delirious and stumbling, steam rising from his healing body and his titan disappearing into air. He was crying, Zeke realized. It was alarming to see his father like this - he had never seen him this way before.

Grisha begged Eren for his wife’s safety. He cried for the children he killed. Was it all for the sake of Eldia’s salvation? Their blood tainted his hands. He needed to know if it was for a purpose.

Zeke couldn’t speak, his voice caught in his throat and his mind jumbled as he clutched at his head in distress. Everything he had thought had been a lie. It was Eren. His brother had manipulated Grisha, not the other way around. His father was not the terrifying figure of his memories who yelled and screamed and banged furniture until Zeke hid beneath his sheets to cry.

His father’s true form was this powerless, pathetic man, cursed by his own fate.

“Zeke,” Grisha called out for him.

The blond physically jumped, his heart thudding wildly as his father looked directly at him. He could see him. The man rose to his feet to approach him and Zeke flinched violently, taking an unintentional step back away from him. His body was reacting the same as it did as a child, recoiling in fear whenever his father approached him like that.

But it wasn’t like the past. Grisha was crying pitifully; ugly, fat tears of regret streaming down his face. He blubbed like a child without shame as he spoke to Zeke. He called himself a horrible father who had subjected Zeke to so much pain. Then he extended his arms out towards him.

Zeke’s mind was lagging in his confusion and shock and his body startled instinctually, shrinking away to escape. But Grisha simply wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him in a hug.

Zeke’s mind went completely blank all at once. His ears were ringing and his arms impossibly stiff by his sides.

Grisha squeezed him tight, enfolding him in the heat of his body and the blond was paralyzed.

When was the last time someone had hugged him? Touched him with such emotion?

“Zeke...” His father’s voice was wet with tears next to his ear. “I love you.”

Zeke felt like he was drowning. He was sinking beneath the surface, deep into the depths where there was no sound but empty echoes. His mind was swimming, shutting down as his eyes seemed to lose focus. Steam was rising up from his father’s healing body, filling his vision and mind with hazy whiteness. It wafted up and engulfed their bodies, wound together; their forms connected in their embrace. Zeke was lost in a dream. His eyes welled with tears and filled his vision. He couldn’t see. All he could feel was the warmth of his father’s body, enveloping him in his love and regret.

How long had Zeke wished to hear those words from his father? All he had ever wanted was love and acceptance from him. He didn’t realize he had opened his mouth. And for the first time since he was seven, he called out for him. It was quiet and trembling. Not by his name, but instead, “...Dad...”

“Zeke...” Grisha cradled the back of Zeke’s head with his hand, the gentle touch of a father to his son. “Please, you need to stop Eren.”

There was a darkness that fell at his words and Eren’s anger could suddenly be felt everywhere around them. There was a flash of blinding light and the pain of being struck and Zeke’s body was propelled backwards, away from his father’s gentle embrace.

Eren wrenched them out forcefully, violently pulling them both out of the memory.

Zeke fell heavily onto his backside, clutching at his head in pain. They were back in Paths and he looked up in fear at Eren looming over him, the chains still locked around his wrists. Zeke’s mind was racing, the web of lies untangling.

He had been wrong about Grisha. And wrong about Eren.

The pieces were slowly slotting into place. Eren had influenced Grisha to steal the Founding Titan. The Attack Titan had the power to see the future. Eren had purposely shown Grisha certain memories while holding back others. In order to ensure everything would happen the way he wanted.

What had Eren shown Grisha?

What was about to happen in the future?

Eren simply stared down at him on the ground, unfazed. “Thank you, Brother.” If Zeke hadn’t taken him on this journey through Grisha’s memories, he would never have been able to influence the past. “I guess your idea turned out to be more entertaining than fucking, after all.”

Zeke’s heart sank heavily at his words, the horrifying dread settling in. His lips began to tremble. He had been so stupid. So weak to Eren’s lies. He was only missing the last piece of the puzzle:

What did Eren intend to do with the power of the Founding Titan?

The look on Eren’s face was so quiet and serene, his eyes distant and sparkling.

Zeke’s hair stood on end, his instincts screaming in warning and his body locking up, shaking with chilling fear.

Eren was the devil.

Zeke was never meant to save him.

He was meant to stop him from burning this world and everyone in it to ashes.

Zeke called out quickly, ordering Ymir to take away every Eldian’s ability to reproduce. This is what he should have done from the beginning. He never should have waited this long. He would put a stop to this endless cycle of hatred and war, right here and now.

Eren’s face morphed into pure rage, turning towards Ymir who was walking away. He strained against the chains around his wrists savagely, the tendons in his hands snapping; the metal stripping away his skin in his desperate fury to stop her. His hands and fingers ripped, blood splattering as he broke free of the chains and sprinted after her. He reached out his bloody, disfigured hand towards her and when he touched her, there was a flash of memories that engulfed Zeke.

The origin of the power of the titans. Ymir’s desperate struggle to survive, to propagate, to live and escape her fear of death. She was a slave and Zeke took pity on her. Ymir Fritz’ pitiful life of tragedy, flowing through both their minds, all in an instant.

She stopped in her tracks and Eren knelt down to embrace her.

Zeke’s heartbeat was deafening in his ears, rising to his feet slowly in panic. Why had she stopped moving? His royal blood had ordered her and nothing should be able to stop her now.

His feet began to move, faster and faster as he ran over the dunes towards them, reaching out towards his brother.

Eren was going to destroy the world.

Why wasn’t Ymir listening to him?

“Eren, what are you doing?!”

He was a royal. He was going to save everyone. Grisha had begged him to stop Eren and he would.

“Ymir! Obey my order!!”

But he should have known.

He had never understood her.

And outside Paths, the ground began to shake. There was the faintest sound, a quiet rumbling, as the walls began to tremble. They cracked and crumbled, falling away, revealing the Wall Titans underneath.

Only an instant had passed in the real world even though years had gone by in Paths. Zeke’s physical body was still reaching out, catching Eren’s head in his hand. There was the sickening sound of splattering blood as a gruesome, spindly creature burst from Eren’s severed head.

It was about time for the Wall Titans to take a walk.

Notes:

Take a squiz: LINK This info has been out there for years on Isayama's blog and in the JP fandom but this is the first time I've seen it translated and making it's way around in English! Zeke is gay-coded as hell and is based off Isayama's 'first love' so I don't want to hear anymore silly claims about Zeke being 'hated' or 'purposely mistreated' by the author! He's one of his favourite characters goddammit

Here are some songs I've been listening to while writing this fic: 

True Love by SOJA 
The lyrics make me quite emotional, thinking about Zeke's struggle with understanding love. I picture Zeke dancing clumsily with Friedrich in a dim room. Is it a memory of his or just a dream? The only thing that lingers are the words: 

That's how the soldier can come to reflect, 
that love is more than a man and a wife. 

In This Shirt (Röyksopp Remix) by The Irrepressibles 
I interpret this song platonically - Zeke and Ksaver's father-son relationship. Zeke speaking to him after he lost him. 

Me and The Devil by Soap&Skin
All scenes between Zeke and Eren 

Goodbye by Apparat 
Zeke's relationship with Levi or his relationship with Eren. Both but in different ways. 

My Love by Sia 
I actually wrote the Friedrich scene in ch 15 to this song. But it's from Twilight and who the hell is going to admit they like the Twilight Soundtrack after all these years? Not me. 

Also, on an unrelated note. You know how we call it 'sandcastles' that Zeke is building in Paths? In the original Japanese, it's supposed to be 'earth' or 'dirt'.

I’ve been calling it ‘earth’ so far in this fic to be accurate to the source material but now I’m conflicted because ‘dirtcastles’ doesn’t sound so cute. So politely ignore the fact that I'm alternating between the two from now on as if they're synonyms!

Chapter 17: love me please love me

Summary:

The Rumbling begins and Zeke finally grasps the meaning of his own humanity.

Notes:

We have arrived at the final chapter! I will be uploading a postscript/author’s note next so that’s why there will be a total of eighteen chapters. I say ‘postscript’ but I really mean just me rambling about Zeke though.

Here’s some more songs I was listening to while writing. I went over the word limit in the end notes so I'll put them here:

SymphonicSuite[AoT]Part1-3rd:BARRIchestra 
I think it sets the vibe very nicely, particularly from 3:30 during the last scene of this chapter with Zeke’s sacrifice

enter one by Sol Seppy 
Basically narrates Zeke’s death. Love the religious theme to the lyrics, seeing as Zeke’s character also has a ton of religious imagery (the god to Eren’s devil, resurrected like Jesus, the saviour of the world)

New World by The Irrepressibles 
I hear freedom when I hear this song and I see freedom in Zeke’s last moments as well. Freedom in those brief windows of time when we don’t have to struggle desperately to fulfill ‘life’s inherent purpose’. The last words in the song are my favourite :)

Pools by Glass Animals 
Everything about this song has such a perfect vibe for the chaos of Zeke's mind. It oozes sexual energy and gave me such inspiration while writing - vivid imagery of Zeke selling his body, smiling fakely as he lied to everyone around him and his fragile soul that begged for attention.

715 - CR∑∑KS by Bon Iver 
Zeke and Grisha's relationship

Who Are You Thinking Of? by Jónsi 
Zeke's indescribable feelings for Levi. This song is kind of a religious experience and reminds me of church music. I've always adored the religious imagery woven throughout Zeke's character and this song is hard to put into words in that way, just like the relationship between Zeke and Levi.

The strangest thing about Paths was that Zeke could feel everything that was happening outside. Perhaps because all Eldians were connected - he could sense the lives of every Subject of Ymir and knew instinctually what they were doing.

He didn’t know what happened to his physical body. It must have been crushed under the wall as it crumbled and Eren’s head transformed into that enormous, gruesome being. The Wall Titans had begun marching away from Paradis, advancing towards their destruction of the world. Zeke could do nothing to stop them now, although granted, he wasn’t trying terribly hard. His royal blood was the ‘battery’ or the ‘key’ of sorts, making it possible for the Rumbling to advance. But he couldn’t do anything about that. Eren and Ymir were using him to destroy the world. He couldn’t even control the mindless titans he had created now that he lacked a physical body.

The other strange thing about Paths was that he had no urge to eat, drink or sleep. There was no death in this place so there was no need for any activities that were essential for life. He didn’t suffer from nicotine withdrawal either, even though he had been stuck in this place for years. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had last seen the sun.

Eren spoke to all Subjects of Ymir through Paths and naturally, Zeke heard his words, too. But he didn’t know where his brother was. He had disappeared from in front of him as soon as they activated the Rumbling. Eren was going to destroy the entire world. And it was all because of Zeke, for taking him into Grisha’s memories and bringing him this far. He had enabled Eren and this was the result. He didn’t see much point in anything anymore.

Zeke could sense that Reiner was wounded, his will to live so weak that he was unable to regenerate quickly. He could tell Gabi and Pieck were safe and Falco had inherited Porco’s Jaw. He knew for sure now that Udo and Zofia were no longer alive. And he could feel that little Annie had emerged from her crystal after years of being trapped.

Within his powerlessness, Zeke felt empty and confused after his encounter with Grisha. His entire worldview had been ripped out from underneath him and he simply watched the world begin to be destroyed. He had failed his euthanasia plan and his brother’s love had been a lie. He had even lost his glasses, the last thing connecting him to Ksaver. It was the complete collapse of his earthly desires, leaving him with no will to live. No will to regenerate his body and return to his life outside Paths. There was nothing left out there for him to live for. He simply continued to exist, within this realm without death.

Time merely passed, outside and even slower inside Paths. Everything he had worked for his whole life had been for nothing. His royal blood was meaningless now except as a convenient tool, as Ymir wasn’t listening to him anymore. Zeke had seen her memories; her life as a slave to the King, full of nothing but pain and suffering. Zeke knew well. Existence was just that: a meaningless cycle of pain and suffering for absolutely no reason at all. Fear was a natural instinct in all humans, the drive behind our struggle to survive. And Ymir had escaped that fear by running away and creating Paths, this world without death.

No matter how hard Zeke tried to suppress it, even he couldn’t escape the fear of death. Whenever Levi looked at him with those eyes and he felt the familiar trembling and shiver up his spine. It was his human nature, opposing his very life’s ideology and screaming out its desire to survive. He felt pure fear when he fought Levi and was faced with his own humanity and mortality.

But he was still immensely confused with why Ymir remained here. In her memories, he had seen her incredible power. She was the strongest, capable of crushing anyone. There was no need for her to fear death. Yet she never opposed the King. Even after escaping her fear, for two thousand years she continued obeying him, rebuilding shifters with her tiny hands.

Zeke couldn’t understand why. He couldn’t understand her. He tried even when they couldn’t seem to make a connection.

He lay on his back, spread out over the dunes of endless nothingness. “Ohhhh, Ymir Ymir Ymir Ymir Ymir...” he drawled. “Why are you so weird?”

Ymir’s actions and thoughts were unreadable to him. She disappeared for long amounts of time, only to reappear again in the distance, pacing around aimlessly. But she always remained silent and always ignored him.

Zeke sighed heavily. He repeated the words, singing them this time. “Whyy~ are youu~ so wee~irrrd?”

But Ymir was silent as usual, walking away in the opposite direction only to reappear in the corner of his eye.

Zeke moaned frustratedly, rolling his body back and forth over the dunes. He poked his head up suddenly, sand raining down from his hair. “We have a lot in common, you know. You and me.” He pointed back and forth between them. “You like dick. I like dick.” His mouth remained open to continue but he paused, furrowing his eyebrows. “Hmm... I guess that’s... pretty much it, though.”

Time passed like that, months and years of talking to her with no answer. She disappeared often but he didn’t know where she went. It was possible she was going to wherever Eren was, although he wasn’t sure why they were cooperating. Or even if they were cooperating at all. She had chosen Eren over Zeke’s royal blood because his brother had made some sort of connection with her.

Zeke tried to follow her sometimes when she walked away but he always lost her, eventually ending up back where he started at the Coordinate. He stopped trying after a while. There were times when he went through phases of anger, with how hopeless the situation was.

“Listen here, you little shit,” he hissed, storming over to her tiny form that reappeared one day. “I’m the royal and you’re supposed to do what I say.”

But it was all meaningless anyway. His anger was pointless and she never reacted to it. Ordering her with his royal blood hadn’t worked before and it wasn’t working now. Afterwards, he would go through phases of guilt.

He curled up into a ball. “I’m sorry I called you a little shit.” He formed little piles of earth and sand in a circle around him. “I was just having a bad day. You’re not really one.”

Ymir disappeared only to reappear again days later. It made him irrationally angry.

“You know what? I take it back.” He kicked over his sandcastle that he had been building for the last week. He pointed at her furiously. “You are a little shit.”

But the hopelessness settled in again shortly after and he went back to the guilt and apologies.

“No. I lied.” He sighed defeatedly, trying to fix his sandcastle. “You’re not a little shit.” But his sandcastle was mostly unsalvageable. “I am, though.”

Outside Paths, Magath and Pieck were still fulfilling their duties as warriors, continuing to fight in an attempt to stop the Rumbling. They had even met up with Levi and the Scouts’ Commander, joining hands.

Zeke wondered why they even bothered. Something about their comrades’ deaths being meaningless if they stopped here. That’s what Zeke had thought, too, before his own plan had collapsed from beneath him.

He could sense that Levi was gravely wounded from their fight in the forest and subsequent explosion. The man was wrapped tightly and covered in bandages, barely conscious. There was a twisted, fucked up part of Zeke that was elated when he saw it. He had forever scarred Levi. The man could never forget him now. Every time he looked in the mirror, he would see Zeke. He would forever have his attention and there was something so sickeningly satisfying about that.

Zeke lay on the ground one day with his arms and legs stretched out, sliding them back and forth to form a makeshift snow-angel. “What’s got you so attached to this world, anyway?” He asked Ymir, who was pacing back and forth. He couldn’t relate at all. There was nothing that attached him to this world anymore. “That Fritz fellow seemed like a real asshole, if you ask me.”

He sat up and turned around, looking down to admire his sand-angel. He used his finger to draw a smiley-face where the head was. He smiled crookedly back at it.

God, he really was going insane.

He turned to face Ymir. “Although I’m not really one to talk, am I? With my history of men.”

He looked up at the colours of the aurora, splashed across the dark sky. “There was this one guy who was in denial about liking dick. It would’ve been very funny if he wasn’t so mean all the time.” He erased the smiley-face and replaced it with a frowny-face. “It’s so stupid to hate yourself for liking dick. Something you can’t change.” He paused in momentary thought. He had spent his whole life trying to reject his blood-relation to Grisha, something he couldn’t change, either. His shoulders slumped. “I guess he had... ‘responsibilities’, as he put it. To get married and have children like a good son.” He looked up at the sky thoughtfully. “The only time he was nice to me was when he was drunk. He was such a dick.” He sighed. “I killed him, though. I guess he doesn’t have to worry about those ‘responsibilities’ anymore. He was Marleyan, so... he won’t be coming here.”

Zeke sniffed once, looking back down at the frowny-face. “Then there was this other older man, who was exactly my type. I lived with him for about a month. There were times when I... he was...” He erased the frowny-face and replaced it with a bored-face. “I’ve never felt so... alive... than when I was near him. The first time I’ve ever felt challenged and lost a fight. And he had this kind, sensitive nature about him... If I hadn’t killed so many people he cared about, maybe we could've been...”

The blond shook his head, erasing the face again. “Then there’s Eren... you’ve probably heard of him.” Zeke smiled lopsidedly up at Ymir, like it was an inside joke between them. “He’s my brother, so I don’t even know why I’m mentioning him. Maybe I was just trying to justify to myself that Dad-Grisha. That Grisha was a bad person, or something. I projected my ideal baby brother onto him to make myself feel better. Maybe I should have tried to understand him more...” He used his finger to draw a sad-face, gazing down at it.

Zeke breathed out slowly, looking over to her. “Anyway, my point is this. I’ve had bad luck with men my whole life, too. But no matter how big King Fritz’ cock was, I don’t see why you can’t just go find a bigger, better cock somewhere. Why does it have to be that one particular cock?” He waved his hands expressively as he spoke. “There are endless cocks in the world, Ymir!”

Ymir didn’t seem to be listening, simply walking away from him at some point while he was talking.

Zeke lay back down with a huff, messing up his sand-angel in a cloud of dust.

Outside Paths, he could feel that the remaining Warriors had formed an alliance with the remaining Scouts. Banding together, friend and foe, all to stop the Rumbling. Despite all their differences and everything they had done to each other. Zeke felt like laughing out loud, and he did, although it was a bit maniacal.

What was the point of struggling so pathetically? The Rumbling was going to kill everyone. They should just accept that everyone was about to die. Death was a relief and it was kind of him to let himself be used as the royal key, allowing humanity to be wiped out. Death was freedom from the meaningless cycle of life. He would know, stuck in this limbo where he didn’t have to worry about a thing.

Zeke’s grandfather’s leg was weak and he and his grandmother would not escape the Rumbling. There was a small group of Eldians from the internment zone who had escaped Marley on a train, but he could sense that his grandparents were not on-board. No one had thought to help them. He was a traitor to them all, so it wasn’t surprising. A part of him was relieved his grandparents wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. He just hoped their deaths would be quick and painless.

Time was a confusing mess here in Paths and he had no idea how long he had been stuck here. He played with the earth and sand boredly and built a sandcastle in the shape of a large dick. It was incredibly detailed; the veins and foreskin shaped painstakingly carefully.

Zeke took a few steps back, cradling his chin in his hand and tilting his head, admiring it from an angle. Then he shook his head. It needed to be bigger.

He stood back again when he was done, now satisfied with the sheer size of it. “Now, that's a dick.” He turned to Ymir with a conspiratorial smile. “I bet Levi’s is bigger, though.” He scooped up more sand, adding it to the tip and shaping it so it had a nice curve. “You know my biggest regret? I never got to see it. Do you think it’s veiny?”

He stared up at the sky as he shaped it using both hands, as if he was giving it an enthusiastic hand-job. “How about his balls? How big do you think his balls are?”

But of course, Ymir didn’t say a thing.

Zeke was accustomed to that by now, continuing the conversation by himself. “I reckon they’re massive. Like, just big...” He cupped the air as if he was groping massive balls. “Big, heavy balls. What do you think, Ymir?” He turned to her, his hands held out and cupping imaginary balls. “You don’t like balls? Is it the hair?

Ymir disappeared suddenly from in front of him. But Zeke was used to that by now, too.

“I see.” He turned back to his dick-sandcastle. “You really don’t like balls.”

Outside Paths, the Alliance was fighting by the harbour. Reiner, Pieck, Annie and Eren’s blond friend would become injured and Ymir would recreate their bodies obediently.

Zeke was perplexed. Did this mean she was a slave to Eren’s will and his friends and that’s why she was helping them? Or did it mean she had her own intentions, helping the Alliance of her own will? Ymir completely eluded him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that much, either. The Alliance was struggling uselessly, all the while the Wall Titans had crossed the seas and were already destroying the world. He wondered what happened to Yelena, Onyankopon and Magath - he couldn’t sense non-Eldians and it was possible they were dead already. He wished he could have at least thanked Yelena for everything she had done and apologized for his failure. He would never have made it so far without her. But as long as she had some kind of peace...

The Alliance boarded an airplane in order to get closer to Eren’s titan form and left Falco and Gabi behind for their safety.

Zeke pitied them. It was all his fault. He was responsible for Udo and Zofia’s deaths. He had killed Colt and turned Falco into a titan, dooming him to a thirteen-year lifespan. After all his talk about saving children. He was such a hypocrite. There were some people in this world that were too irresponsible and unfit to take care of children. Grisha was one of them. And so was Zeke.

Falco had ingested Zeke’s spinal fluid from the tainted wine and unlocked a strange ability. The boy was dreaming of Zeke’s memories. How fitting. Zeke had been prepared to gift his memories to Colt - he had been so pure and empathetic, and Zeke knew Colt would have tried to understand his feelings and his life’s choices. Now Zeke’s memories had inadvertently ended up with his little brother, Falco, instead. It was almost like fate.

Falco had inherited all the memories of the past inheritors of the Beast Titan, flying high above the clouds. Were these dreams also because of Ymir’s will?

“How is he doing that?” Zeke asked no one. It was unclear why Falco was able to unlock this ability and useless to even think about. “Right, my mistake. OnLy YmIr KnOwS,” he mocked, rolling a large ball of sand over to the base of another one of his sand-penises.

Zeke didn’t have much to do to occupy his endless time with except building multiple dicks out of sand, of all different shapes and sizes. Veiny or curved, with bumps all the way up to the tip or beads around the base. He was so used to Ymir’s silent presence, coming and going, that he didn’t even feel any shame when he masturbated with them.

“Can I...?” He ventured politely. “You don’t mind, do you?”

She ignored him as always, staring in the opposite direction towards the Coordinate. Preoccupied with... whatever the fuck she was doing.

Zeke lay on his side with his chin in his hand, his other hand thrusting his sand-dick in and out of himself as he fucked himself with his creations. He didn’t even need any oil. The power of Paths was limitless and he could create anything he desired.

He was so bored, languidly thrusting his makeshift dildo between his legs, sliding it up against his favourite place. He lifted his leg slightly to get it deeper, his cock twitching with every rub against his prostate and shutting his eyes as he groaned pleasurably, long and breathy.

It had been literal years since he last had sex. God, he missed it. What he would give for a real dick. Pulsing and warm as it stretched him wide around it. Pressing up rhythmically against that pleasurable button that made him twitch and tremble. The feeling of a muscular body above him, sheened with sweat and dominating him with a strong hand on his neck. He imagined his creation was the real thing and panted uncontrollably, whimpering as his thighs began to shake.

The Alliance were still on the plane, discussing their plan to find Eren’s whereabouts and put a stop to him. But Zeke’s royal blood was the ‘battery’ behind the Rumbling and Levi brought this up pointedly, changing the subject to his obsession with killing him.

“HA,” Zeke snorted uncontrollably, sheened with sweat. “That’s funny.” He angled his dildo upwards slightly, twisting it as the thrusts quickened, in and out. Even here in Paths, he could still sense Levi’s violent bloodlust. “Ohhh, Levi,” he breathed, sounding fond.

The memory of being under his boot, his blade slicing his neck, the feeling of his body pressed down against his back. As much as he was terrified of him, he wanted the older man to tear him apart. Zeke’s toes curled and his nipples perked up, bending his leg at the knee as the dildo pressed in deep and fast. His mouth fell open in gasping pleasure and his head slumped to the earth beneath him. His thighs were shuddering and he wrapped his other hand around his erection, flushed and twitching and so moist at the tip. It barely took two light strokes from base to tip and it was already enough to push him over. He moaned loudly, his hips arching and spine going taut with the tingle of pleasure that went all the way down to his curling toes. His cock convulsed and spurted heavily; splatters of white onto the earth in front of him.

He was a shivering mess afterwards, rolling onto his back as the pleasure receded, resting an arm over his eyes. He regretted not getting properly fucked by Levi while he still had the chance. Even just once, with Levi’s actual dick in his ass. It would have given him endless fap material for his eternal time in Paths.

Zeke sighed, scratching at his stomach. Such a shame.

Zeke’s largest sand-penis creation was almost as tall as him and he was so bored that he chatted to it to entertain himself, pretending it was Levi. “Why, hello there, good sir. Might I interest you in... my asshole?”

He lowered his voice to imitate Levi’s bored-sounding tone with a facial expression to match. “Hell yes. Let me take a gander at it. Then get over here so I can fuck you with my massive cock and balls. And not the hilt of my blade.”

“Oh, Levi!” Zeke exclaimed, blushing profusely as he sidled over to the sand-penis. He put his arms around it and raised a hand to his mouth, whispering lowly, “Not in front of the little ones.”

He side-eyed his collection of sand-dicks, lined up in a row. Some were curved and some were thick but they all looked positively offended.

There was a long silence as Zeke simply stared at them. Then his face fell and he sighed, bored of his own antics already. He flopped face-first onto the ground, flapping his limbs around in frustration and whipping up a cloud of sand around him.

He had an infinite time to think here in Paths and he reflected often on Levi’s words in the forest.

You don’t understand love, do you?

Even just remembering it made him flustered and ashamed all over again, rolling over onto his back and accidentally bumping his face against the large sand-penis.

What does it mean to love?

He loved Eren. Even Levi had acknowledged that. But Zeke had denied his brother’s lies and convinced himself it was mutual. He wanted his brother’s approval and affection so desperately that he truly would have let him do anything. Convinced himself that he knew Eren better than Eren knew himself and deluded himself into thinking he could save him. He took him through their father’s memories to prove a point instead of fulfilling his plan while he had the chance. And by enabling him, he ended up being a perpetrator behind the destruction of the world. He was partly responsible for all of this. And he continued to be, as long as he existed here in Paths, as Eren and Ymir continued to use his royal blood.

If Zeke had understood love the way Levi had told him, would he have known Eren would betray him? He had been so naive. He had ignored his own instincts and blinded himself.

Love is about respect, Levi had said. It’s about letting go.

Zeke sighed heavily. He still didn’t get it.

What was Friedrich to him?

They had grown so attached to each other. There was an intense attraction and lust between them and they had shared each other's loneliness. But they had manipulated and used each other in their own ways and never faced each other properly. The sex was amazing. And at times, they shared an intimacy, although Zeke had ran from it in fear. But Zeke had put his own plan before him and killed him. He thought he had given him relief from his pain... Wasn’t that a form of love?

He didn’t know.

Zeke could sense outside Paths that Ymir was manipulating his Beast Titan with the power of the Founding Titan, using it to attack airships with projectiles. The Alliance had defeated it, realizing it was just an empty shell. Ymir was controlling the Shifters of the past, directing them to fight against them. Falco came swooping in as support; he had managed to control his transformation, taking on some of Zeke’s Beast Titan’s characteristics along with Porco’s Jaw. He took the form of an enormous falcon and Gabi and Annie were on his back. Instead of running, they chose to fight, to join their comrades and save as much of humanity as they could.

Zeke shook his head in bewilderment, grasping at the earth beneath his fingers.

Why were they all still fighting? Even with tens of thousands of titans as their enemies? They were all so naive.

And that was when Ymir swallowed Eren’s blond friend into her titan’s mouth.

First thing’s first, Zeke checked that he was decent. Spending so much time here with no one but himself and an omniscient being who consistently ignored him, he tended to forget if he was naked or clothed. He gave himself a haircut and simple outfit. He also hid his collection of sand-dicks.

The young man appeared in Paths and even though Zeke didn’t know his name, he recognized him from Eren’s memories as his best friend he grew up with.

Eren’s friend sat down with Zeke, surprisingly calm despite everything. He seemed to know who Zeke was.

Zeke hadn’t talked to someone in so long. How many years had it been? A real, flesh-and-blood human, who acknowledged him when he spoke.

But just as he expected, all Eren’s friend wanted was to find a way to go back outside and continue fighting. Zeke sighed disappointedly, looking down at his pile of sand. They were all so blind to the truth.

He began shaping a sandcastle, carefully forming the moat and turrets with his steady fingers as he spoke.

What does it mean to be human?

We are machines built from organic matter, programmed to multiply, procreate and live on. Only the strongest and fittest survive, and that is why we have an instinctual fear of death. The biological genetic code in every living thing on the planet commands them to struggle, to live, to multiply. Just like the Alliance was so foolishly doing right then as they spoke. The reality of life is that it is meaningless. A meaningless cycle of suffering, all for the sake of the multiplication of our species.

Ymir had created Paths as a world without death. To escape this pain of the truth of our existence. But her goal, Zeke didn’t know. He couldn’t understand why she still felt pain after escaping that instinctual fear of death. Only Eren had understood her and that’s why she had chosen to follow him.

Eren’s friend was still determined to return to the battle outside. But Zeke couldn’t understand that, either.

What was there to live for, out there?

“To live is to suffer pointlessly,” Zeke said. And that’s why he had killed them all, to save them from that suffering. “To live means you will eventually die.”

What was the difference between dying now rather than later? Wouldn’t it be a relief to die sooner instead of prolonging the pain?

Humans were simply lumps of meat, dancing blindly through life and propagating with no meaning or purpose. Ugly, twisting and struggling desperately to survive for absolutely no reason at all. What was the point of fighting? Why not just accept and succumb?

Is it because it gives humans the illusion of freedom?

Eren’s friend’s eyebrows were knitted together in distress, opening his trembling lips only to close them again. He looked down at the ground, defeated. He knew Zeke’s words were the truth.

“You might be right...” The young man’s voice was quiet. Then he shook his head. “No. You are right. It is meaningless.” He reached out his hand and grasped something, gazing down at it sorrowfully. And in Zeke’s eyes, it resembled a baseball. “But... I don’t know... maybe that’s the point.”

Zeke blinked slowly in confused recognition. How had a baseball gotten here in Paths? Had Eren’s friend created it?

Was this Ymir’s will, too?

Or was it Zeke’s?

The young man held the baseball out towards him and Zeke hesitated, reaching out to take it from him. It was solid and heavy and he rotated it in his hands, staring down at it. Thoroughly used and faded, covered in smudges of dirt. He recognized the familiar scratches. This was the baseball Ksaver had gifted to him, so many years ago.

He had forgotten about it, so lost in the meaninglessness of existence. A slave to his plan, he had forgotten why he believed in it in the first place.

Playing catch had meant nothing. It had been a brief escape for him from the reality of life. An endless back-and-forth with no purpose. But he didn’t want or need anything else. If only he could stay by Ksaver’s side and play catch forever.

When we do these meaningless things, we’re fighting against our genetic code that strives for survival. We’re proving we’re not just machines mindlessly reproducing.

These meaningless moments are where we find the existence of the human soul.

Zeke rubbed his thumb over a familiar scratch, etched into the surface of the baseball. When he was nine, he tripped during mid-throw and the ball had scuffed roughly against the wall. His scrawny body had collapsed into a clumsy heap, scraping his knees and Ksaver had hurried over to him. The man treated his bloody knees and wiped his snivels, patting his head.

Oh, I see, Zeke thought.

So that was his humanity. It was brought out with Ksaver.

Ksaver was his soul.

Zeke breathed out shakily, his head feeling startlingly clear.

His time playing catch with Colt. It made him feel closer to Ksaver; imitating him and taking someone under his wing. He had thought he was doing it to train the boy and give him an advantage. But he had truly enjoyed it, throwing the ball back-and-forth, and back-and-forth again. Colt was uncoordinated and it was endearing. Like a little brother.

His time with Friedrich. They were sexually compatible and their bodies fit together. The man was an emotionally constipated mess and Zeke was just as bad. But he enjoyed their banter and they shared the same worldviews. They could have gotten along well if they had just allowed themselves. Even Friedrich was just a man, trying to understand his own existence.

His grandparent’s hugs and their quiet moments together. Bonding with Yelena over their beliefs. His time with Porco and Pieck; their silly contests, even when they didn’t get his toilet humour or when they teased him for his shitty taste in men. Drinking with Reiner. Watching little Falco, Gabi, Udo and Zofia play and laugh, like normal children should. These moments had all been meaningless.

But weren’t they also terribly beautiful?

Colt would have given anything to stay by Falco and Gabi’s side and watch over them forever. Porco had been so intensely loyal to his friends and loved so fiercely. Udo and Zofia were just children who wanted to play with their friends, forced into war and violence. Friedrich had been running from himself and his demons but he hadn’t wanted to die. He must have had things that made him happy. If only Zeke had asked.

Every person he had killed and was yet to kill; every man, woman and child. They all had meaningless things that brought them happiness. For the briefest of precious moments, appreciating existence without restlessly struggling for something. And Zeke had stolen them away when he stole their lives.

Perhaps... for some people...even the birth of a child could bring joy to their family. Even though Zeke couldn’t relate. And that child would grow and experience moments of joy mixed with the suffering. Did the suffering invalidate the joy? Maybe sometimes it did.

But Zeke had no right to decide that for anyone but himself.

There was a calmness that settled over him then, like the pieces of the puzzle of life finally fit together after eluding him for so long. He still believed in euthanasia, that the only way to prevent suffering is to never be born. But if he took away every future Eldian child’s chance to be born, wasn’t he denying them these small moments of meaningless happiness?

He was not a god. He never was. He had no right to take these moments away from them.

He clenched the baseball in his hand, squeezing.

If he had never been born, he would have never played catch with Ksaver.

There was the sound of movement behind them and Zeke and the young man turned towards it. The Shifters of the past were gathering together and approaching them.

Zeke’s eyes widened, his heart clenching in his chest.

Grisha was there. Bertholdt. Porco and even tiny Marcel. He hadn’t aged a day since he left for the Paradis mission.

And there was Ksaver at the front, standing before him with those gentle eyes for the first time in thirteen years. It brought Zeke such relief; a stirring in his heart when he saw that the glasses Zeke had lost were safe with him, wearing them as he always did.

Zeke’s royal blood must have called them here.

He stumbled to his feet, approaching both of his fathers. He apologized to Ksaver for failing him. Their plan was not meant to be, even though he still believed euthanasia was the correct solution.

But maybe it was okay to be grateful he was born.

“I suppose I... wouldn’t mind being born again... if only to play catch with you.”

He turned to Grisha hesitantly. The man was powerless and pathetic, not the terrifying figure of his memories. Zeke had been wrong about him and so he faced him for the first time, as just a man. Grisha had been an unfit father and he acknowledged his mistakes. Zeke heard those words he had been so desperate for and he could finally accept their blood-relation now instead of rejecting it.

But Ksaver was still his heart.

And so he thanked Grisha for bringing him into this world. Because if it wasn’t for that, he would never have met Ksaver.

Then he turned to the Shifters of the past and asked for their help.

He was the royal ‘key’ that was powering the Rumbling. He had thought by allowing humanity to be wiped out, he was relieving them of the suffering of their existence. But he had been wrong.

Zeke had escaped his fear of death by continuing to exist in this place. But by doing so, he had embraced the very thing he vowed to reject: the meaningless struggle of survival and multiplication.

One can escape the struggle of existence by appreciating those small meaningless moments of humanity. This was the answer he had been looking for his entire life.

He had found it. He was finally free.

To live means you will eventually die. Embracing death was the ultimate rejection of the pointless struggle of life. What else was there left for him to do?

It was a strange feeling.

The first thing he did was take off his clothes. He had always been an exhibitionist and he just felt most comfortable in the nude. He knew Levi wouldn’t appreciate it. But surely he could forgive him just this once, considering what he was about to do.

He had the will that made it possible now, and so he materialized outside Paths, his body still merged with Eren’s titan form. He immediately spotted Levi in the sky, riding on Falco with an arm around Gabi in support. Zeke waved at him exaggeratedly, calling out to Levi to notice him.

He reveled in that look of shock on Levi’s face. He was always clowning him and trying to get a reaction from him and it would never stop being funny.

Levi called him by his name for the first time and the sound of it from the man's mouth brought Zeke such a high.

His heart was beating wildly. His body trembled uncontrollably, warning him to escape. To run from this monster. Levi had always been the only person capable of inciting such fear in him. This feeling of being alive.

His biological instincts screaming out with its desire to live.

But Zeke knew in that moment that he was better than him. Levi had been chasing him all these years to fulfill a promise made out of pure devotion and vengeance. But this sacrifice was of Zeke’s own volition. He had chosen this. He was calling out to him and giving himself to him. Begging for it like a prayer.

Levi could never forget him now.

Zeke had won.

Is this what Porco felt when he died, saving Reiner?

Zeke knew no one would mourn him. And he knew he deserved that. Existence meant loneliness and Zeke had ensured that when he made the choices that he did.

He was merely a pitiful beast, vicious but so terribly weak as he tried to understand his own humanity.

He looked up at the sky, the wide expanse of blue that extended out around him, enveloping him in warmth. The rush of a breeze swept his hair back away from his face and his pupils blew wide open.

And what a beautiful day it is, he thought.

A beautiful day to live and a beautiful day to die.

He had never noticed something so simple before.

He could feel his hands shaking violently and he smiled bitterly.

He was afraid to die.

How arrogant.

Because all those people he had killed surely hadn’t wanted to die either.

There was a sickening slice and the world tilted on its axis. The cut was so quick that Zeke didn’t feel any pain at all. He almost laughed at how kind Levi was.

 

And in those slow, ticking, breath-taking moments as the light faded from his eyes, he thought to himself,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

so this is love.
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To live alone one must be either a beast or a god. Leaving out the third case: one must be both. To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. I love those who do not first seek a reason beyond the stars for going down and being sacrifices, but sacrifice themselves to the earth, that the earth of the Übermensch may hereafter arrive.

- Friedrich Nietzsche

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

And the secret is finally out - Friedrich’s name is an homage to Nietzsche and nihilism.

Thank you for sticking with me until the end! I know it was painful and Zeke suffered a lot, but this fic was truly my love letter to his character. 

I adored Zeke's death in the manga, it was nuanced in a specific way and written for a certain type of person. Luckily, I happen to be one of those people. I’m glad Zeke was held accountable for the things he did. At the end he was freed from his guilt and suffering, taking responsibility by dying and saving others.

Unpopular opinion: I want my favourite characters to be responsible for their shitty actions & I don’t need them to be redeemed. Zeke directly killed his own comrades! He claims to want to save children yet he turned Falco into a titan and Udo&Zofia died because of his plan! The things he did were unforgiveable & I want him to be held accountable because accountability is sexy. I will never understand the desire to woobify & redeem serious, well-written characters like Zeke, Erwin, Floch, Reiner etc. Who cares whether they live or die? I want coherency & responsibility. Zeke, Erwin & Floch completed their arcs perfectly (we’re not going to talk about Reiner because that’s not the Reiner I know & love in 139 *sniffing noises*).

I love that Zeke still believed his euthanasia plan was correct all the way to the end. He never gave up his antinatalism or nihilism. I will dick-punch anyone who claims he did. At the end, he simply realized he has no right to kill others in the name of ‘saving’ them & was able to appreciate the meaningless things that made him happy. I adore this treatment of his character, never judging his nihilism/antinatalism as ‘wrong’ or invalidating his feelings. I share a lot of his worldviews & I was expecting Isayama to ‘punish’ him for thinking that way. That didn’t happen at all. As of 139, I feel it’s even somewhat implied his plan was the better one.

I have so much to say about him; his character arc & his death, but saying all of it here will be way too long. So I will be posting an extra chapter for an author's note! If you want to read me gushing about Zeke’s life, his death & Isayama’s message behind his character, I’m writing a postscript for the next chapter.

My one regret is that I finished this fic before Zeke’s birthday. August 1 is officially known as Yaoi Day in Japan - have I mentioned Zeke is gay-coded as hell? Canon Zeke is a homo. He likes butt sex. Isayama has been implying this for years on his blog & in interviews and I will never stop repeating this. ZEKE IS CANONICALLY GAY (I will talk about this more in the postscript, too).

Now that we’ve reached the end though, you can probably tell I don’t really ship Zeke with anyone... my theory for years has always been that Zeke doesn’t ‘get’ romantic love...& then it turns out that’s actually canon. Obviously I wrote zevi moments & zekeren moments but they’re not quite romantic per se, so I do apologize to shippers if you wanted more! Perhaps in an AU I will explore these relationships more romantically.

I want to state plainly here in case it wasn’t clear enough: Friedrich was the same as Zeke; he didn’t understand love. That’s why he treated Zeke like shit throughout the whole fic. I hope it didn’t seem like I was romanticizing their manipulative treatment of each other. Fried was brainwashed by his country and in denial about himself - he thought love just meant marriage and having children. He struggled with comprehending what love actually means, the same way Zeke did. That’s why their relationship was this odd dancing around each other; trying to connect and understand each other on a human level and getting close, but never managing to. If they got their heads out of their asses, maybe they could have, but their ethnicities, their goals and their personalities didn’t allow it.

Next I will be writing about the school caste AU and cult leader Zeke being a manipulative stupid hoe, so keep an eye out for that in the near future.

And finally, thank you for all your comments! The last line in the fic, "Oh, so this is love" was the very first thing I wrote and decided before I even completed chapter 1. I'm genuinely surprised I made it to the end and managed to actually write it out in the last chapter! It's thanks to all your comments that I made it.

Chapter 18: postscript

Summary:

Me rambling about Zeke. Just a meaningless display of my love for him!

This postscript is just me babbling about Zeke and the themes present in his character and in this manga. A lot of it is pointless rambling, analysis and my own thoughts. I’m warning you all now!

Full disclosure first & foremost: I’ve been a nihilist and a mild antinatalist (not as extreme as Zeke) since high school. Because of this, Zeke is a rare character whom I’m extremely fond of. Isayama has my full respect for the way he portrayed Zeke and his beliefs until the very end.

I don’t particularly like the way the manga ended for various reasons and I have my own thoughts about how much was planned from the beginning. But Zeke was one of the few characters not ruined at all and I can say as someone who has been reading Isayama's blog since 2012, Zeke’s arc went as planned and was consistent with his personal beliefs all the way to the very end.

I’ve noticed readers who like Zeke's death (even if they don’t like Zeke) tend to have mild nihilistic beliefs themselves and this was quite interesting to me. So I’m going to try and explain why that might be in this postscript and maybe give a new perspective!

 

 

Antinatalism and nihilism

The most basic definition of a nihilist is this one: “A true nihilist would believe in nothing, have no loyalties, and no purpose other than, perhaps, an impulse to destroy."

Because of this broad, basic definition, I've seen people claim that Zeke is not a nihilist. Zeke is deeply, unconditionally loyal to Ksaver as well as Eren (until he was betrayed). He doesn't want to destroy the world, he in fact wants to save it. Zeke is not a 'true' nihilist.

But he is, in fact, an existential nihilist.

Isayama is an existential nihilist according to his blog for the last 12 years (and so am I) so I will try to summarize simply: existential nihilists believe humans don't really have a 'purpose' for being here. The reality of 'life' is exactly as Isayama wrote in ch 137: life forms multiply and reproduce and fight for survival by instinct (Darwinism etc) but there is no meaning to this. Life exists for the sake of existing. Death is not 'evil' or 'bad'; if something lives that means it will inevitably die. This is existential nihilism. What a lot of people don't understand about this is: this does not mean nihilists are depressed or suicidal in any capacity LOL. Nihilists are capable of love because of course we are still human. We feel empathy when we see suffering and might consider death as a release from that suffering. So we’re able to accept death a little easier because we believe there's no inherent meaning to any of this.

From his blog, Isayama is an existential nihilist who believes in the philosophies of Nietzsche and Schopenhauer specifically. Their beliefs are all over his manga and Zeke is a good example of this. He talks often about how death is salvation and release from suffering for his characters. He talked extensively about this when Erwin died for example.

As for antinatalism, I don’t think there is any debate about this - Zeke believes life is full of meaningless suffering and the only way to mitigate that is to prevent more children from being born. He believes it is cruel and immoral to have children and for lifeforms to mindlessly reproduce, so he is the perfect definition of an antinatalist. In the manga, he is only trying to take away Eldians reproductive ability, that is true. But his behaviour during the Rumbling (or lack of), his conversation with Armin, all together with his existential nihilism is very telling that he believes life is meaningless suffering for everyone, not just Eldians. Eldians are simply the cause.

Now that’s out of the way, onto Zeke’s character arc!

Isayama mentioned years ago that his favourite stories were the ones that profoundly hurt him and I must share this sentiment because I adore Zeke’s death as much as I adore his life. I’ve always loved irony and I also like my favourite characters to suffer. I think that’s pretty obvious if you’ve made it to the end of this fic - I purposely made Zeke suffer because that’s how I show my love! I think Isayama is similar to me in that sense - just look at the way he treated Reiner. He said Reiner was his favourite while writing him with suicidal thoughts. He even hung a picture of Reiner attempting suicide above his desk so he can gaze at it while he writes! This seems to be the kind of person he is, even though one could say it’s in poor taste - I can relate to this. Me forcing Zeke to suffer in this fic doesn’t mean I hate him! On the contrary, I adore him. Readers complain when Isayama kills off characters but he has consistently stated on his blog that dying is being freed from suffering. It’s his own style of compassion.

(This is why I do think his plan for the ending was changed multiple times, but it’s not the huge conspiracy that some parts of the fandom are making it out to be, lol. If Isayama is anything like me, he originally wanted to kill many characters and create a tragic story. But his manga is a huge cultural phenomenon and the majority of readers want their favourite characters to live. So Isayama was influenced by that to give the story a much happier ending than he planned. He wanted to make his fans happy and he also grew out of his childish desire to hurt readers for no reason. This applies to popular characters like Levi, Eren, Mikasa etc: he would never taint them because they are the ‘face’ of his manga. In Zeke’s case however, he was never a popular character. Isayama was not pressured to do anything different with him than he originally intended.)

This is my own opinion, but a character dying is not the worst thing that can happen to them. The worst thing is when they’re twisted into an OOC mess and their character arc and development is disrespected. None of this happened to Zeke. He was naked?? Waving at Levi?? Clowning him?? He never gave up his beliefs?? His last words were cynical & ironic?? This is the Zeke that I fell in love with.

Zeke, Erwin and Hanji’s deaths were perfect endings for their characters because they chose death themselves. There is nothing cooler than taking responsibility for your own sins and guilt. Very sexy of them.

If you can read Japanese, I recommend reading Isayama’s blog because Zeke’s character arc was about his own growth as a person. His arc and his conversation with Armin is derived from the exact philosophies of Friedrich Nietzsche and Arthur Schopenhauer that he has blogged about for the last 12 years. Zeke never gave up his antinatalist/nihilist beliefs even to the very end and I despise when people say he should. That is hugely misunderstanding his character and Isayama’s message.

Isayama actually praises and admires antinatalism (I would not go so far as to call him an antinatalist though). In a 2010 interview, he said the purpose of all lifeforms is to reproduce and this is the natural order of everything (exactly the same as Zeke’s speech in ch 137 published in 2021). But he said the beauty of humans is that we have the ability to choose: “Yes I want to procreate and live on through my legacy” or “No I will not procreate and my bloodline will die here.” Zeke’s character has been in his mind since 2010. Isayama believes it’s amazing and beautiful that humans have this kind of consciousness and free will to decide for themselves.

Zeke was never portrayed as wrong for his antinatalism/nihilism. Armin agreed with him in ch 137 that life is meaningless! Zeke was portrayed as wrong for killing so many people in the name of ‘saving’ them and trying to force his ideologies on his entire race. But the ideologies themselves are not wrong and he never gave them up even at his death.

His last words are about appreciating happy moments that ultimately mean nothing - this is Schopenhauer’s philosophy. Life’s purpose is to reproduce and multiply. This is the absolute truth. Zeke has no desire to reproduce and fulfill life’s purpose, therefore he is a nihilist who sees no meaning in life. At the end, he saw the beauty of the sky which is irrelevant to reproduction. Playing catch with a father is irrelevant, too. He realized we can still find happiness in these moments that have nothing to do with reproduction. These moments are still meaningless though - he’s still a nihilist! But he’s not going to force his nihilism on anyone else now. That’s his character development. He’s still an antinatalist who believes euthanasia is the best solution. But he’s not going to force his antinatalism on his entire race anymore. Character developmentttt

This is why I find it insulting to imply Zeke needs to be ‘fixed’ or ‘cured’ of his beliefs as if there’s something ‘wrong’ with him. His beliefs are perfectly valid! What’s wrong with not desiring children? What’s wrong with believing life is meaningless? I love his ending because he never changed his mind about these things. Zeke still believed his euthanasia plan was correct at the end (and the narrative even implies perhaps it was the better plan). He simply realized he has no right to take away anyone else’s reproductive ability. But he still doesn’t want to reproduce himself and what’s wrong with that? Life is about enjoying meaningless moments. So people are not ‘failures’ at life if they don’t procreate.

The point of ch 137 is that Ksaver made Zeke’s life worth living. It wasn’t reproducing, it wasn’t romance, it wasn’t children. Playing catch with Ksaver was the ‘meaning’ of his life. And it’s okay for people to live like that! That’s the message of his character arc and that’s why his arc was complete as soon as he realized that.

Antinatalism and nihilism are ideologies that have been around for thousands of years, going back to Ancient Greece and Rome and prevalent in Buddhism. They are extreme but they are perfectly valid ideologies to have. Pretty much everyone has heard of Nietzsche and Schopenhauer if you're familiar with philosophy, even if you don't agree with their antinatalist/nihilist views. 

Isayama has always been critical of fanaticism and extremism. There is nothing wrong with religion, it’s only a problem when it becomes a cult (school caste Zeke). There is nothing wrong with antinatalism, it’s only a problem when you try to sterilize your entire race (main story Zeke). There is nothing wrong with Zeke’s beliefs; his extremism is the problem. He realized that at the end. He still believed his euthanasia plan was correct and Armin agreed with him that life is meaningless. But he has no right to take away anyone’s free will to decide for themselves, so he sacrificed his plan along with his life to stop the Rumbling. Perfect completion of his character arc and Isayama never ‘punished’ him for his antinatalism. Yissssss

His closure with Grisha was also perfect. I know some interpret that scene as Zeke forgiving Grisha, but that’s not how I saw it. It was simply closure. Grisha apologized and told him he loves him. Now Zeke is no longer ‘trapped’ by him, the way Eren described. But their relationship is not suddenly fixed and Zeke still doesn’t owe him anything.

Notice in ch 137, Zeke thanked Grisha for conceiving him and nothing more. Because if he wasn’t born, he would never have met Ksaver. Ksaver is still his true father and the only reason he is glad he was born. I have never seen a better closure in fiction to toxic parenting than this. Throughout his life, his biological parents did nothing for him and that didn’t suddenly change at the end.

Ksaver is his father and always will be. My favourite line: “I wouldn’t mind being born again if only to play catch with you.”

Zeke’s entire character arc is so clearly written by a nihilist and as a nihilist myself, that’s probably why I love it. Zeke’s beliefs are respected to the very end, never invalidated. Nihilists are neutral towards death - it’s not positive or negative, death is just a fact of life. So I will never see Zeke’s death as a bad thing. He achieved self-actualization, he never gave up his beliefs and he died saving millions. This is an incredibly positive ending for a nihilistic character!

(Maybe because of my own beliefs, I also never understood why people would be mad if it turns out his sacrifice was for nothing. I would laugh so hard because this nihilistic thematic implication has been present from the beginning of the manga and Isayama is the one who chickened out from writing it. I was really hoping for the Alliance to realize it's all pointless and humanity was going to destroy itself either way, no matter how hard they struggled. Zeke's sacrifice was a completion of his own character arc and a personal rejection of the struggle of existence. Whether or not it 'meant' something for the world is irrelevant)

Playing catch with Ksaver was the meaning of his life and so his character arc is over. Insisting that he needs to keep living in order to find some ‘better’ meaning is misunderstanding the message completely: that people are allowed to live for trivial things like playing catch and nothing more!

He was never the saviour of the world or a god, he was just a boy who wanted to play catch with his father figure and that's okay! He doesn't need to be anything else.

Plus, it’s funny that no one talks about how much of a flex his death was. He could have been killed by anyone. But he called Levi to him and allowed it. It was a huge flex and he ‘won’ against Levi for the first time. That’s why it was not satisfying for Levi - he lost to monke.

To summarize: Zeke’s life was ‘meaningless’ in the sense that he didn’t want to procreate and fulfill ‘life’s inherent purpose’. But Isayama’s entire point is that does not make him a failure. No one is a failure just because they don’t procreate. Because it is meaningless things that make life worth living. Zeke doesn’t need to change. And he is finally at peace now with his real father, Ksaver.

Isayama is a nihilist himself who admires antinatalism and Zeke’s character has been planned for a literal decade. He is one of the few characters that Isayama empathizes with and respected to the end. As a nihilist myself, boy, I can tell you, this level of respect is incredibly rare.

If you are a reader who doesn’t understand Zeke’s beliefs because you don’t agree with them, you are probably not aware: usually nihilists are punished for our beliefs in fiction! We are always told to ‘stop being so depressed’, that we’re ‘wrong’, that we need to be ‘fixed’ with love or whatever. These statements are clearly from people who don’t understand what nihilism is at all. Isayama did none of that and Zeke was never portrayed as wrong for his beliefs. I can’t thank him enough.

 

 

Love and sexuality

And now we move on to the ‘love’ reveal...

In ch 137, Zeke stated Founding Ymir had an attachment to the world and she went with Eren because he understood that attachment, while Zeke did not.

Then in ch 139, Eren revealed Ymir loved King Fritz. Even though it was hard for him to believe, he recognized that she loved him. So I suppose the implication here is that a person needs to experience that attachment themselves in order to recognize and understand it, no matter how fucked up it is. Eren loved all his friends as if they were family, and apparently he loved Mikasa romantically too (I have my own issues with how well this was displayed throughout the manga but I’m not going to deny canon LMAO)

When ch 137 came out, there were some theories at the time that maybe Ymir wanted human connection? Maybe she wanted a family? That made a lot of sense to me. But Isayama drew Ymir staring at that married couple kissing. Back in 122, too.

 

I think if she wanted human connection in general, there are more effective ways to illustrate that. A parent playing with their children, or something. She was staring at a man and woman kissing at their wedding. So the most obvious theory was that it must be romantic love and I got this sudden burst of inspiration and began writing this fic. This is how I’ve always interpreted Zeke’s character from years ago and I’ve only become more sure of it as time goes on.

Zeke never loved anyone romantically and as an antinatalist, had no desire to procreate. I would even take it a step further and say he actually didn’t understand any kind of love, including romantic. Zeke lived his life as a liar, a traitor, an antinatalist and a nihilist. This is a very ‘unloving’ way of living life (and I say this as a nihilist/antinatalist myself LOL)

Just taking a step back to look at him impartially... Maybe this is just me, but I think anyone who has experienced what it feels like to love another person, truly loved them, would never try to sterilize their entire race. It’s such a cold, unfeeling, utilitarian plan. It’s very unloving, if that makes sense. There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to have children. But going so far as to take away your entire race’s ability to reproduce? And thinking it’s kind to do that to them? Clearly he doesn’t understand what it means to love! He wasn’t able to comprehend something so simple like... children bring joy to some people! Not everyone, which is the point. But to not realize that people experience joy in different ways?

I hope I’m explaining myself properly lol. Because I really believe this is what Isayama was trying to tell us with Zeke’s character. His euthanasia plan was painless and pragmatic and honestly makes sense logically. He has a very scientific way of looking at life: life exists for the sake of existing, Darwinism, etc, and so a scientific solution is ideal. But there’s no love in this plan. It’s cold. It disregards the human soul; the fact that Eldians are humans who want to live their lives with their loved ones. People are always going to suffer as long as children are born. But you can’t forcefully take away anyone’s free will to start a family! You can only make that decision for yourself.

And this is what Zeke didn’t understand. There was no ‘love’ in his plan because he couldn’t comprehend even what love is. He couldn’t comprehend why someone would love someone else and want to start a family with them. And that’s not his fault, obviously, but the problem was that he killed so many people, including his comrades, because he couldn’t understand. All to sterilize his entire race which they never wanted or asked for! Mass sterilization is quite literally genocide and eugenics. A shitty childhood is no excuse to hurt others.

Something I was thinking about as I wrote the last chapter of this fic as well: It’s kind of implied that Zeke never grew up. He was permanently stuck as that 7 yr old child who was playing catch with Ksaver. And in ch 137 before he died, that’s the only thing he thought about. All he wanted was to go and play catch with him forever. It's endearing as hell. But it’s also a little strange, isn’t it, for a 29 yr old to think about that and nothing else. I take it as pretty clear indication that he never matured mentally.

In this fic, I added him thinking about meaningless moments throughout his life that made him happy and he was finally able to appreciate them. But that’s not actually canon, lol! He didn’t think about other things at all in canon. The only time he felt happy throughout his whole life and the only thing he wanted to do was play catch, nothing else. His line, “I wouldn’t mind being born again if only to play catch with you,” tells us that was literally the only thing that made his life worth living and the only reason he was grateful to be born. It’s very interesting, to me, that’s the way Isayama wrote him. He’s basically a child.

I also want to point out, in Zeke’s last moments, he did not suddenly understand love. I wrote that in this fic from my imagination, but that’s not canon! There’s actually nothing that indicates this in the source material. He realized he should have appreciated meaningless moments like playing catch and the beautiful sky, that’s all. But he still believed his euthanasia plan was correct, meaning he still has that cold, scientific, utilitarian view of ‘fixing’ the Eldian race with sterilization. So at the very end, he still didn’t understand Ymir’s love and there is no indication that would ever change.

This is why I don’t agree with the opinion that Armin ‘monged’ him. Armin did not teach Zeke anything or change his views. The only reason Armin’s words resonated with Zeke was because he agreed with him. Armin argued within the frame of Zeke’s already existing ideologies. He didn’t try to convince Zeke that reproduction was ideal. His entire argument was that life is valuable because we can experience moments that reject reproduction. So Zeke kept his beliefs - he could finally be okay with his own existence as well as let others live their lives. Because in both cases, it rejects reproduction. Zeke was not changed by a teenager if you actually read the text!

Thinking about it now, I think that might be why I enjoyed their conversation in ch 137. I’m a nihilist and mild antinatalist but I never felt like Isayama was trying to ‘teach me a lesson’ through Armin. Everything they said is directly from Schopenhauer, who believed life is endless struggling but by appreciating small meaningless happy moments, we can find relief. Zeke was never ridiculed for his views and actually I felt validated by their conversation because I’ve always agreed with Schopenhauer.

Zeke was wrong but only because he tried to force his views on his entire race.

Waaay back in 2016, Isayama said in the Answers Guidebook that, “Zeke is the form Eren should never become” and I remember at the time, I had a few different theories about what he meant. Gradually as the manga continued, it slowly started becoming clearer to me and now I know for sure: he was talking about love.

Around that same time, 2016 in the manga, Kruger said to Grisha, “love someone within the walls.” He was referring to romantic love (get married, start a family) and he was also saying to just love people in general. Make friends, treasure them, protect them and love them. And Eren did that - he loved all his friends dearly (I have my own issues with Eren’s character and ending, but in canon, he definitely loved them to the point where he went a little too far). Zeke, on the other hand, lied to everyone, betrayed everyone, wanted to prevent his entire race from procreating and making families, and even directly killed his own comrades. This is what Isayama meant when he said in 2016, “Zeke is the form Eren should never become”.

This is also why it’s a non-issue to me that Zeke was not remembered by anyone after his death. It’s clearly his own fault - a result of his own actions. You need to make positive connections with people throughout your life if you want to be remembered after your death.

Keep in mind - nihilists don’t really care about being remembered after death lol. But let’s say one does care - you can’t spend your life lying to and betraying and killing your friends, then expect them to mourn for you. He wanted to take away their reproductive ability without their consent and was willing to kill them all for this goal. Colt, Porco, Bert, Marcel, Udo, Zofia and Magath deserve to be mourned for by their warrior comrades. Zeke was not loyal to them and is even responsible for Colt, Porco, Udo & Zofia’s deaths! When he did those terrible things, he understood the gravity of his actions and knew it was unforgiveable.

If anyone is shown mourning for him, it would be Yelena, who is the only person he never lied to or betrayed. But there are way more important things that deserve panel time, so it’s not an issue to me if he is never mentioned again. He lived his life without making positive connections with others and so he was not remembered. But he wouldn’t care about that anyway - all he ever wanted was to play catch with Ksaver and that’s what he’s doing now!

Weird and interesting thing I noticed: in Schopenhauer philosophy, there is what’s called ‘The Will to Live’ which is all over Isayama’s manga. To summarize simply, The Will to Live is the incessant striving that all life forms are consumed with: the struggle to survive and procreate instinctually with no end goal. Schopenhauer says:

The Will to Live = the desire to procreate = romantic love.

His belief is that romantic love is the greatest force in human life. But it is also a complete illusion; our biological instincts urging us to procreate. So by Schopenhauer’s definition, Zeke’s antinatalism means he does not suffer from romantic love. Sounds familiar, right? This is exactly the reveal of why Ymir chose Eren, because of the pain of her love. Eren understood what it means to love and Zeke did not. Isayama is getting his plot points directly from Schopenhauer I guess!

The other interesting thing is Isayama has been implying Zeke is gay for many years, even before we knew what his true goals were. There is a distinct link in Japanese society when talking about the declining birth rate, antinatalism and the LGBT community. Isayama brought up this link as far back as 2014 on his blog. His editor also said it on radio in 2017 when he said Zeke has a ‘brother complex’, confirmed Eren and Zeke have a ten-year age gap, and also said ‘Zeke doesn’t seem like he’s attracted to women’. Then of course, in 2016 Isayama also decided Zeke’s birthday is August 1 which is famously known as Yaoi Day in Japan.

I assume the reason for these random comments throughout the years is because Zeke’s character is based on a famous film critic, Machiyama Tomohiro. Isayama has referred to him as his 'idol' on multiple occasions and is obsessed with him on his blog as far back as 2009. Machiyama Tomohiro is famously gay, single in his 50s and childless by choice.

Machiyama Tomohiro is the inspiration behind Zeke, Ksaver and Hanji so I find it ridiculous to claim that Isayama ‘forgot’ or ‘hates’ these characters. They are based off his idol, the man he never shuts up about on his blog.

When ch 137 came out, I was reading a lot of theories from the JP fandom and something that stood out to me was the reaction from the LGBT community in Japan. They basically claimed Zeke as their own and had a lot of positive things to say about his character arc. It was meaningful and beautiful that the overall message of Zeke’s character is that it’s okay to live your life without procreating or fulfilling ‘life’s inherent purpose’.

There were theories for many years that the message of SnK would end up being ‘natalism’ and ‘pro-babies’, meaning Zeke would eventually be ‘punished’ for his antinatalism. I honestly thought that would happen with Historia’s pregnancy, Onyanko’s statement that “children are the future” etc. But in ch 137, it was revealed that the message of SnK is not natalism. The actual message is that finding happiness in life is about small meaningless moments. This is such a positive message for LGBT in Japan, who struggle daily with the pressures of suppressing who they really are, forcing themselves to get married and have children.

It’s possible that Zeke’s entire character was written for them:

-Zeke’s parents didn’t love or accept him the way he was born. They wanted him to change and be something he was not.

-He found a father in Ksaver, a person with no blood connection, who allowed him to simply be himself (Ksaver’s physical design is modelled after Machiyama Tomohiro, known for being outspokenly pro-LGBT)

-At the end, Zeke’s relationship with his biological parents was not magically fixed and it was emphasized that Zeke found happiness himself, as an individual. This is realistic and respectful towards real people who have been exploited or abused by their toxic parents. LGBT in particular found this empowering. Your biological parents conceived you, yes, but you don’t need them in order to find happiness and validation in your life. Especially if they don’t approve of who you are.

-Zeke didn’t want to procreate and he never changed his mind about this. And he was never punished for it.

His arc is an emotional, empowering story for LGBT (all over the world, but Japan in particular because of the societal circumstances - declining birthrate, gay marriage and adoption for gay couples etc). Isayama is quite ahead of his time for portraying an antinatalist and nihilistic character in this way, with complete respect and understanding. Especially in a country like Japan, which is not kind towards people like Zeke.

I’m gonna ramble for a second now about personal opinions.

The thing about children is, it’s ‘normal’ to have them, for some weird reason. This is the bitter truth in Japan and all over the world, really. You choose not to have a child and everyone asks you to justify yourself. And yet, have 4 kids with 3 different people and no one says a word! The reality is, most people who shouldn’t be parents don’t have the self-awareness that they shouldn’t be parents. Isn’t that terrible?

The reason I’m an antinatalist is because there are way too many unfit parents in this world and children are the ones that suffer for it. I think having kids for ‘normal’ reasons is selfish. Because you feel empty, or you feel lonely, or you are worried no one will take care of you when you’re old and sick or to light up a candle on your grave one day. These are the most selfish reasons to bring a life into this world. You’re bored and feel no purpose in life? Find or create a purpose but do not burden some innocent soul with your existence. Children do not ask to be born. They cannot give consent and it is likely they will suffer, experience depression, be hurt, be suicidal, etc.

This is the entire premise of antinatalism.

The good parents are the ones who understand what it actually means to raise a child, emotionally and not just physically. They recognize their kid came through them but do not belong to them. I think if all parents thought like this, raising kids would look a bit different. Especially there wouldn’t be any Grisha’s: trying to pass their expectations, their failed attempts and so on onto their children. It’s irresponsible and he was not suited to having children. Zeke is not either, by the way, for different reasons, but he has enough self-awareness to recognize that and would never be so cruel.

Okay, end of rambling. I think I've gone on long enough!

Most readers don't agree with Zeke's views which is perfectly normal and so I understand why he was never popular. And actually, I prefer it that way, because the less people that like him means less people with bad takes on his character, misunderstanding him and his views, and insisting on changing him.

One time ages ago, I saw someone say something like, "uwu zeke should just realize he would make such a good father uwu" and I literally wanted to jump through my screen and punch them in the dick. I should have known the average reader doesn't respect or understand antinatalism and I can't imagine how angry I would be all the time if Zeke had the same popularity as, say, Levi. Constant uwus and bad takes about how "he should just stop being a nihilist/antinatalist because he's so silly for thinking that way, amirite!"

"Stop being depressed and just shut up and make babies because that's the meaning of life, amirite!" The amount of times I have heard this as someone with nihilistic beliefs in the real world...

We live in a society...

Anyway, maybe if you're a reader who didn’t like Zeke's death, I hope I've been able to convey a different perspective, from the JP fandom and maybe where Isayama was coming from when he wrote it. Considering that Zeke is based off Isayama’s 'idol', I don’t think it’s reasonable to claim that he mistreated Zeke on purpose. In my opinion as someone with similar beliefs to Zeke, he was actually respected and treated very kindly, which is so rare.

Now I’m off to continue writing my school caste AU fic, which is getting... so out of control, my god...

It started off being an exploration of cult leader Zeke’s characterization but it's so fun to write and is spiraling into... something... whatever this is... Prepare for much stupidity. A lot of the characterization from 'beast' will be the same (Zeke being a whore, mainly) but because of the setting, it's not depressing or serious anymore. I didn't set out with this intention, but it looks like it's turning out to be an eruzevi fic? Erwin x Zeke x Levi. Eruri are married (because that's just how I see them) but there is no cheating or playing favourites, Zeke gets involved with both of them equally. 

I've always loved the idea of Erwin and Zeke interacting, seeing as Zeke is literally the Erwin of Marley. They both have that book-hoarding obsession and strange sense of humour... I imagine they would genuinely get along really well, chatting over coffee about history and politics and conspiracy theories... Zeke would give anything to be fucked by both Erwin and Levi! And maybe... just maybe... I am giving him what he wants in the school caste AU... 👀