SnK One Shots

MarcoxSuicidalReader - My Hero

It was time for all of the scouts to rush into the dinning hall.  You weren't hungry after watching some of your friends die.  Now with most of your team gone, everything felt gloomy and slow.  You didn't feel like living on like this anymore.  Is it worth it?  Is it worth living?  Have I chosen the wrong path?

"F/N" Marco wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed the soft spot on your neck. 

"Marco . . ." you whispered.

"Come on, let's eat, you look pale." he grabbed your hand and started to pull you to the dining room.

You stopped in your tracks and let go of his hand.  He looked at you with a confused face.  "I'm not hungry."

"F/N, please, I know it's hard.  But you have to eat." Marco grabbed your hand again, but this time planted a soft kiss on your palm. 

"Could we-"

"Follow me." Marco began to fly up into the air with his 3DMG out towards his lookout area.

What are we doing?  We're on break.  We don't need to watch the outside...

You went after him.  You glided past houses, farms, and just small fields of grass.  Eventaully, you made it to his spot.  There you saw him leaning over the wall, staring at the titans. 

"Marco." the sight of titans upset your stomach, you began to puke over the edge.  

"F/N! Are you ok?" Marco pulled your h/c locks back and held onto you. 

The puking just kept getting sronger and stronger, longer and longer.  Tears were rushing down your eyes as you began to scream.  Marco stepped back and let you do your thing.  

I hate this!  What's the point of living?  "I hate you!" you scream at the titans.  

You wiped your mouth and fell to the ground.  I hate you...

Marco sat down by you and began to play with your hair.  "You're scaring me, F/N."

"I'm sorry." you laid your head on his shoulder.  

"You look tired, let's take you home." he picked you up and flew you back to sleeping quarters. 

-Later that night-

How is this going to end?  Will I be killed by those... monsters?  Those, selfish, disgusting, creatures!  I just want to die... in peace.  Old age, disease, anything besides getting murdered by those!  I just want...

Tears rolled down and dropped onto the wood floor.  Blop, blop . . . blop.   You looked down at your arm, the untouched flesh of an innocent soldier.  Why feel pain . . . if I can control it?   A knife was placed on your dresser, the floorboards creaked as you walked over to it.  The knife was light but as sharp as the blades you use to kill titans.  Help . . . me, please.  You grasped the knife and held it onto your skin.  Just one cut on the vein, and I'm dead.  Just like the nape of a titan, right?  You slid the knife across the vein, crimson red blood rushing out.  Stinging.  Strong stinging.  You began to scream out, "Marco! Marco . . . Marco."  

The door flew open with a freckled boy rushing in.  "What's wrong?!" he glared at your wrist, "what have you done . . ."

He rushed over to your frail body spread across the floor.  Soon after, a wild waterfall of tears flooded his eyes as he tried to understand your pain.  "Somebody!  Somebody help! Please!  Help!" He began to scream.  Louder, louder, and louder. 

Scouts came running in, panting and sweating.  Your vision getting blurrier and blurrier only lead you to see Marco's beautiful, freckled face.  A tall blurry figure stood behind him.  The figure moved Marco and picked you up.  His face clearing, Erwin.  "Erwin."

His face looked forward not changing while he spoke, "we cannot have a weak soldier on our team."

Your voice cracked and your throat burned, "I am not weak, I just have been strong for too long."

A blinding yellow light shined in your face, everything stopped.   Everything echoed.  Is this my ending?  Am I free now? 

-2 weeks later-

The sound of muffled talking surrounded you as you awoken.  Your eyes slowly opening.  Five -- no, ten figures surrounded you.  It grew silent as you sat up. 

Moments passed of you opening and closing your eyes and people watched in silence.  But then someone broke it.  A very special someone.

"F/N, you're awake?"

Marco? 

"Marco?" your throat once again stinging you.

His arms wrapped around you gently, trying not to squeeze your fragile bones.  A little droplet fell onto your shoulder, then more dropping becoming more frequent.  He began to whine and whimper.  "I thought you killed yourself!"

Your eyes widened.  Everyone gasped and began to whisper.  Oh no, now they know.  What do I do?  Why Marco, why did you say it? 

A short man walked into the room and pushed through the crowd.  He glared at your eyes, then turned around now staring at the people. 

"OUT." he bellowed. 

As they ran out, he saluted you and walked out.  

Marco's hugging intensified, hurting you, but you didn't mind.  You needed this hug.  

"F/N," his head dug into your neck, kissing it deeply.  "Never hurt yourself like that again.  Please . . . don't"  His words were slurred and abrupt.  His breathing getting faster and faster.  His stomach pumping in and out.  He was panicking.

You felt bad, terriblely bad, so bad you couldn't help to cry with him.  Once again, tears flooded your eyes.  I caused this pain, not only in myself, but in him.  Marco.  My Marco.  My . . . hero.  "I'm so sorry!  I'll never hurt you again.  I love you so much!"

Marco let go of you and looked you in the eyes.  His freckles picked up every tear that fell.  Holding them.  Nurturing them. 

This is my freedom, my saving. 

"My hero." you whispered.