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She was a bad person. It was something she knew with every fibre of her body. She was a pretender, a bitch and a fuck-up. Nobody had wanted her as a child and then when they had, she couldn’t keep them safe. The stones hadn’t hurt half as much as that realisation.
There was little point in caring for people when you were bad. There was no point in helping anyone either.
There was just existing.
Not that she was particularly good at it either.
It didn’t matter though. When you’re bad, you’re bad and nobody cares anymore. No one looks to you for help, and it surprises no one when you turn your back.
Life was easier when people stopped bothering with you. It was easier when you didn’t have to care or worry about what others were thinking.
Life had never been easy for her, though. Not on the cold and haunted streets, not as Ymir and not in the walls.
And so, pretty and bright Krista had wormed her way in. She made Ymir think. Made her care. And Ymir knew it was wrong. She was a bad person. She didn’t deserve such joy in her life. Ymir was cruel and selfish, she was rough and rude; she was a person fundamentally broken.
Ymir was a bad person, and so she didn’t do the right thing.
She laughed and cried with Krista. Shared with her. Held her. Loved her.
It made her feel good. Better than she ever had. Krista was fire on a winter night, the source of all warmth and light in Ymir’s life. And she thought, maybe, that for Krista she was the same.
And as she threw herself from the tower, throwing her life aside for the sake of this girl she’d never meant to let in she tried to remind herself. She was a bad person.
She threw two lives from the tower when she jumped.
As she threw away her own life, she threw away the life Krista should have led. A life without someone else leaving her. Krista didn’t deserve what would be left behind for her. Questions with answers she didn’t know. Wondering why.
Even when she made the right choice she was doing wrong. Hurting people. Hurting her.
Krista gripped at her hair, her face so pure and earnest as Ymir carried them from the falling tower. Even facing Ymir's monster, Krista still trusted her.
Titans gripped and clawed at her, pulling flesh from her form. It was what she deserved. For everything she'd done, for all the mistakes she'd made along the way. Eyes that grew heavier by the moment, fluttered as she fell in and out of consciousness. Streaks of green painted the sky, as titans fell around her.
There was nothing, then there was her. Krista. Warm and real, and there.
"Historia," Her voice cut through the darkness. Historia.
Ymir was a bad person, but it didn't really matter. With Historia by her side, maybe she didn't have to be. Maybe she wasn't all bad. Not good, not bad, just Ymir.