[ they were all . . . disoriented, maybe, it wasn’t out of line for eren yet. as he approached and closed his distance, nothing had seemed odd enough for him to take much notice of. if they were still on their trip (for eren, a one-way) he probably would’ve been too busy roving into the sea of his own distress. he might still be close to that edge, very close, especially when . . . how would he be able to accomplish anything if he didn’t? eren speaks to him with a nod, something about it casual if not a touch relieved, despite the reservation eren has dawned over the years from loud mouth to quiet. ]
Yeah, [ he tries to keep the soft escalation in his breathing under control, only visible through the soft up and down of his suit and tie as he held out his hand. ] can you stand?
( Armin's gaze falls to the proffered hand. for a moment, he remains motionless.
then, a slowness verging on mechanical, Armin accepts, rising to his feet once more. Eren's skin blazes hot; the sensation, not unfamiliar for any titan shifter. (is that it, then? is Eren fresh from the Founding Titan's nape?) (that isn't right. Eren is in a suit. his hair is short. is this place real?) Armin begins to return to himself. his gaze meets Eren. )
Eren. Is it over?
( beneath the fit of Armin's button front, low on his sternum, a sapphire has taken residence. )
[ eren’s eyes are wide in trying to decipher what armin is going on about— usually he’s the one talking nonsense or disjointed phrases with only half meaning in his thoughts kept to himself and accidentally made verbal, not the other way around. a memory too, maybe? or was he simply shocked? lodged in his jugular notch and just poking out from the collar of his button down tie sits a ruby gem— one that faintly, with their contact, would blink to glow and pull down eren’s nasty temperature on the spot. there was something there, like a shock, a buzz, but eren’s hand had let go of his friend’s before he can consider anything else for much longer; sorting out any meaning of what was “over” was the priority, and eren digs for the last thing he remembers: ]
. . . The party? [ it was the only linear event to him that made any sense. it was the last time eren had seen him, even if he was hanging back as a wallflower. he gives both a nod and a roll of his shoulder that, coupled, went along the lines of “yes” and “i guess so”. ] I fell asleep. [ . . . ] I think we all did.
[ had armin changed his clothes, then? eren can’t help but to observe, eyes traveling down and back up, from armin’s shoes to his sea blue eyes. ]
We were... In Marley... ( Eren had left: the association, some critical juncture none of them had realized until too late, the last he and their friends had seen Eren, not until raiding Liberio. ) You —
Eren — ( something in Armin — in his voice — cracks. his expression crumbles. he crosses the threshold, reaching for the other boy. maybe these are his last moments, self inflicting torture born from guilt and failure. maybe this place is real. maybe he should kill Eren. )
Please, don't get any further away from us. Please, just trust us. ( Armin's face feels funny. like he might cry. ) We'll find a way!
[ eren’s eyes search and widen until a rift seems to catch him— no, stab him. he’s never seen his friend break apart this way, and as stunned as he was with the sudden callback, he wasn’t stupid as to what he was talking about as desperation choked him right in front of his eyes. ]
Armin— [ he starts, quiet, but then his eyes narrow— nothing brusque or brash, but perhaps hoping that it would be a way to see the cause of this. something hadn’t added up. ] That never worried you. [ it wasn’t a jab, but an observation that comes opposite as to how armin was. is. why was he in partial uniform? why did he care, suddenly? he had always been blindingly hopeful and idealistic to the point that he’s stopped arguing. eren isn’t moved to decide differently— but it does clasp at his heart in silence, even when all the hopeless darkness told him, truly, that there was no other way, and the longer he waited the more the already waning options thinned to nothing.
he could trust them to do certain things, but not this. ]
Why are you saying this? Now?
[ he was about to leave them behind. he knew that. he knew somewhere deep down that the night was going to be his last and that it was his farewell. armin would wake up, get ready— and realize eren was gone only after mikasa saw him slipping out the forum’s back doors. ]
( beneath Armin's touch, hand on either shoulder, Eren remains feverishly hot: heat, radiating from body to body. Armin can see the rise and fall of Eren's sternum, the glint of ruby in the uppermost hollow.
more so as his gaze falters and lowers. Armin's shoulders sag. can he tell Eren? how long had he been planning the rumbling? (no, months until the raid on Liberio, Yelena had already played her part.) rather, how long had Eren committed himself to the thought?
those enemies on the other side of here... if we kill them all, does that mean we'll be free?
they aren't good people — not the way Mikasa had pleaded in Niccolo's restaurant — but maybe... Reiner is right... does Eren want to be stopped? does this Eren? can he? (he won't leave Paradis's future to fate, he had said, but that Eren... doesn't he realize the world he wants is the one they thought was real? and it had already killed so many people?) )
Do you really care about Paradis's future? Us Subjects of Ymir will probably never stop fighting each other. ( meeting Eren's gaze, ) We killed a lot of Survey Corps... Just to get to Odiha.
[ a surge of heat squeezes eren’s heart with a burning, moment’s worth of acrimony at the question. did he care? did he care? he had his own selfish desires braided into the reasons for this plan, but never was it a lack of care for his home and, more importantly, those that once surrounded him close— it was a corner that he saw no way out of. eren recalls a conversation he had with commander pixis when he was a boy, and he said that himself— it’s stupid to think everyone could live peacefully just because they have a common cause. even behind the walls, there would never be an end in conflict, but there could be an end to the outer cycle and the titans (that he’d be tight lipped about in all ways anyway). did he think he didn’t know that? did he think his options and choices were so one noted? why was he even asking him these things?
the one thing that puts a fracture in his indignation is another piece of a puzzle that was coming through in trickles, and one that still left a hole in its entirety. eren’s gaze goes from disbelief to blatant, wide eyed disorientation. ]
We never went to Odiha.
[ it was a planned, pinpointed location that the rumbling would pass through, with yelena’s help in spreading out their options and the optimal places to hit first before reaching the fort.
but only eren, yelena and floch knew that. none of them would leak it, and historia wouldn’t either. was he hearing and seeing things? was he in some kind of overlap? was he— paths? there were different dimensions open to bringing people here, could those include their own in separate spaces? if paths is timeless, ]
When are you from?
[ he didn’t get this type of communication when it was just him and his father. the memory of that wonderful sight had armin in it, for a second, he remembered—. ]
a tremble overtakes Armin's voice, the touch of either hand against Eren's shoulders. his eyes shine, a wet and stricken quality as he speaks. ) Please, don't do it. What about all those refugees in Marley? They shared all their alcohol with us. Even though we didn't understand each other!
( but they aren't good people. if he had to... Armin would hurt them, too. )
Maybe it's too late to stop Marley declaring war on us. But the wall titans from the outer districts will stop any invasion. Give Commander Hange and us more time!
If, if we can't understand each other, we can at least show the world it's better to be our friends than our enemies!
[ it’s everything he never wanted and all that would come if he had ever opened his mouth. it’s everything he’s ever thought of, not once or twice, too many times and he was proven wrong to believe it each and every time. it’s like listening to a damn broken record spiraling out of control as he tallied the days to wait and only surreal dreams would fill the spaces. it hadn’t been as if eren didn’t see the distress glazing his friend’s eyes, true distress—
but these were words that did not help him, nor would they for armin. eren’s voice comes like the crack of thunder, his fingers harsh into the blond’s shoulders, ]
Armin, [ he won’t. he won’t. he won’t hear this bullshit again, his height firmly hanging over the other boy’s with his eyes irately fixated, ] I asked you a question.
[ whether it was a roughed up sign for him to stop before eren said something he didn’t want to (which was very close to happening), or because he really did want to know—
actually, no. it wouldn’t matter if he knew. this . . . was enough of an answer. he simply would not stand to hear what he already knew for three (four) whole years. ]
( startled, Armin's touch falls to either side. he stares, mouth falling open. Eren has never frightened him — not even now, after everything — but for a moment, he wonders:
is Eren going to hit him?
(that's right, that fate Eren claims he can't abide, inflexible to only one end since they were children. if he can't accept compromise, what alternative replaces the only two options he presents, Eldia or the world? ...Armin doesn't know. Armin supposes it might not matter.) )
You said you wouldn't take our freedom... ( another crumble in Armin's already broken expression. he tears his eyes from Eren, watching the low space between them. )
But you gave it to Ymir the founder, too. ( right? a breath through Armin's nose. he slumps in the other's grip, perhaps finally defeated, dispossessed of some illusion. ) Eren... You were right. I was useless to the very end. The person that should've died in Shiganshina... Wasn't Commander Erwin.
[ the moment you realize that you’ve done something horrid only hits after, the flash of fright in armin’s eyes like a spear for eren when he realizes his tone. he’s never . . . been so aggressive, not ever since they lost their homes and mikasa had smacked him for going too far with his words— but they were children then and . . . he didn’t say anything that was enough to be foul, did he? there’s still body language and tone, and once the rage that rockets depletes from a near burst, eren begins to feel the afterwaves of remorse. yeah. this was exactly why talking wouldn’t garner results. only shocks from impact.
eren’s fingers rub briefly before awkwardly retreating back to his sides in a quick slump. eren didn’t know every detail of the future, but he knew pockets. whatever armin knew, eren didn’t know exactly when but had a feeling. ymir was free, the rumbling, odiha, that marvelous sight. ]
You’re not. [ it comes out in an exhale held for longer than needed, his hands sniping his fedora right off his head as he combed through his hair, anxiously, with his free hand. but, fuck, what else is he supposed to say about all of this? this armin is from after the rumbling— no, it’s still happening. ] It’s . . . Not your fault.
[ he doesn’t know— nothing they say will change anything. he doesn’t know, but—
something still tugs in his chest. maybe it’s missing . . . everything, but it’s been so far away he’d just keep drifting farther. ]
I think it was supposed to happen. From the start. Nothing we did changed it. Even now, [ he gestures, but undeniably crestfallen, ] you’re proof.
( none of that is true, Armin thinks. he is useless. if he hadn't convinced the others to fight, Eren and Zeke were more likely to die, unsuccessful. is their future already ordained? he could kill Eren — his tongue or cheek, Eren wouldn't see, couldn't stop him, and whatever followed... wouldn't be the rumbling — but what would happen?
would the power of the titans return to their world? (he supposes this place is real.) (whenever the thought settled upon him.)
Armin feels so tired, ready to crawl into bed (or at least the plush seating here), but if he's already dead in their world, he can't waste this one.
after a moment, long, lifting his gaze, ) The Marleyans with us keep asking if we'll kill you. ( the emotion in Armin's eyes borders empty: no threat, no resolution, no hope. ) I promised our friends it's a last resort. After every avenue of dialogue is exhausted.
( maybe he can't. maybe that he can't means Eren is right. maybe... ) Maybe... We'll find another way in Noctium.
[ if eren knew himself, then they might as well, armin might as well accept it because no amount of dialogue would suffice once he started moving, but— that day with the serum was when eren too couldn’t stand the thought of having to let his friend die. he wonders, now, was this something that went through this armin’s mind right here? kill him?
it was truly as ghastly as he thought it’d be, but what protects his memories are heavenly clouds, and rationale haunts him at night when it’s too dark to parse them.
we’ll find another way in noctium. something in him still hoped somehow that, maybe it could be the case, but . . . until when and where was all of this concrete enough to confide in for an answer? time has squeezed every drip of hope from him as is. there’s nothing we can do is on his tongue, just about ready to fall from the tip. there’s no other way, you can’t have both, i’m sorry.
you’re wasting your time
forget about me, i’m not worth it
but eren inhales, holds his breath, and none of it comes out. ]
Yeah.
[ empty. he doesn’t want to extend an inevitably dead-ended argument. it’s bound to crop up again, and now that he knows that armin knows . . . it probably won’t be the last he hears of this. he doesn’t know how he’ll react next time.
but right now his stomach is dropping so low into his gut that it burns. he too, is probably scalding from the surface, only made apparent when his ears, neck and knuckles were bright lobster red. looking too close toward the window, as aimless as his gaze was, made it fog up in front of him; he doesn’t seem to mind that he can’t see beyond the misty blotch. it wasn’t as if he was looking at anything, at most, armin’s reflection, one that quickly became a blur of blond hair. ]
I promised the same thing to myself.
[ that it was the last resort. god how he wished things could be different. that he could be apt to having a different conversation here. that they could be smiling and laughing even though he was hollow inside himself. they filled up the cracks with something to look forward to, at least. at least . . . it’s what made him go through with the rest, and keep going, and keep going.
no matter how much time they’ve spent together in the past, eren feels like an alienated stranger. it’s so fucking stupid but he can’t even look armin in the eye now. it’s hard to face him— ]
I know you’ll pull through when you have to.
[ whatever it was— even if it wasn’t something armin wanted. ]
( where Eren can't face Armin, Armin watches, his gaze only faltering as they come to the final impasse: I promised the same thing. for another moment, long and silent, Armin simply stands beside Eren, eyes on the floor.
a deep breath through his nose. devoid of any highstrung emotion, Armin's thoughts are clear enough to reason Eren likely hasn't used his titan. Armin shifts the weight in his hips, reaching for the crook of Eren's arm — a light grip — testing the new boundary between them. )
Let's find the infirmary. ( tentative, Armin lifts his gaze, empty... but searching Eren's. ) You're running some kind of fever.
[ and— he’s still here. part of eren asks why he’s still here if he knows all about it.
there’s no doubt, from the bottom of his heart, that eren wishes for them to feel that again. wishes that he could sit across armin as the wide eyed kid being told he could dream. the dreams are fake (or not? he still saw it— but the cost—). he really wishes they could be happy, even if he wasn’t going to be a part of it anymore. he wishes for armin back, as much as something in him wants to recoil at his guiding touch and at the same damn time allow them both the proximity they’ve always had before he drifted. it makes him feel all the more monstrous. selfish mountain of shit. he’s scorching to the touch. at any moment he could fume— but he doesn’t. at most, the surface of his red skin beginning to fracture sizzles into a decline.
it’s for that very reason, while eren’s eyes cast downward to his feet and after much deliberation, let his fingers hang on armin’s sleeve, that the ruby stone tucked beneath his collar glows an accumulating blood red, illuminates his chin and the rest of his face from below to cast shadows— unseen gates click, arrange and open to a flood of what might better be described as dewy, enjoyable even, if not for the braids of guilt and sadness that would come with a profound i’m sorry. he doesn’t know he’s allowed synchrony until it’s too late. ]
( Armin's interest piques: the first glimmer of light, curious. that this is synchrony is a quick realization.
a sense of warmth, contentment, indescribable rightness, rushing Armin like a summer's day wave. his fingers curl, tight against Eren's arm — tight, tighter, a self loathing Armin might think belongs to him if not for the guilt, the longing, something insurmountable and terrible. Armin is not aware of his own tears until his vision blurs.
low, he jerks his head, eyes closed, a hint of his own self loathing (overwhelmed) (pathetic). Armin considers only a moment... then, leans into Eren, arms about him, fingers rumpling his suit jacket. against the impossible heat of his body, Armin flushes, humid in his own clothes; the stinging needles of pain, reminders of another life: Trost, Stohess, he had always been so afraid Eren would run too far ahead, to places he couldn't follow. when had he stopped?
through the white of Armin's button front, the sapphire glows, a deep, dark ocean blue. )
[ it feels . . . even. as the pillows of gladness twist with ugliness, eren realizes more and more, along with the gleam of blue as deep as the sea that bounces off his to form shades of purple was that— this was synchrony. this tasteful thing that made him hold his friend in turn by the sleeve and gawk at the light pooling under the blond’s shirt, then his eyes, then, inwardly, at something so featherlight he felt like he was on clouds with him.
he was aware that he was crying, or starting to, before he met the flush in his friend’s cheeks or his eyes to see, and not long after, if not immediately, the base of eren’s nose burns before his vision does. he’s aware of how useless armin feels but how much they— how much this—
a cleft of fright interrupts their connection that might as well make the experience a disappointment for halting so soon. a part of him hadn’t wanted to, but another did: one that rose too much internal conflict. he was just hurting armin and he was going to hurt him more some ways in the future— look at him. it breaks, eren’s breathing escalates only through his nostrils, but it might be clear, even as he’s steadying armin and trying to read through the dip of his head: he’s afraid to let it go any further.
was proximity the answer? he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to say no outright. it’s— confusing, but any inviting warmth in his belly had cooled, and with the light of his gem fading came the expansion of a wasteland in his gut. he didn’t want to feel this way, but what was the right choice? ]
I don’t know . . .
[ he trails off easily. because he doesn’t know what the right thing to do here should be. he just had to hold off the tears, which, might not be falling, but they’re glazing eren’s eyes. ]
( a shadow of another emotion, lurching sharp. Armin is left cold, empty and limb-heavy, soul deep in a sudden void. shocked almost bodily, he gasps against Eren.
had he said something aloud? Armin burrows his face even lower — I don't know, either! screamt through his core as though drowning — distantly aware the new stretch of skin pressing against Eren is less tight, less painful, the way parts of his arms, long strips of his belly and thighs are. Armin sobs, hard, mouth open, shoulders shaking, lungs hitching. ) Eren...
( even this hot, Armin prickles gooseflesh, something tense in the air, Eren or his own sudden fear. tears distort Armin's voice. ) Please... Don't leave! ( the possibility terrifies him more than anything Eren has done. will do. )
[ he can’t feel it anymore like he did when they still glowed, but he didn’t have to, to feel the wrenching pain in armin’s words. for a second eren’s eyes search for an answer before his midsection is squeezed and wetness expands from dots on his shirt to circles. he still doesn’t know what to do and their short lived synchrony isn’t coming back so soon. oh, fuck— ]
Stop— stop crying, [ eren finally decides, but lacking much demand in his voice as he offered some sort of peace that he had assumed fake at first, but, ] I’m not— [ his swallow strains, audible, and his eyes have gone some ways pink where they should be white. they sting— ] going anywhere right now.
[ to their dismay or not, whether that would be comfort or not. his last ditch effort is to wrangle armin’s body into his by a firm wrap around the shoulders. their gems don’t glow, he was still afraid. but as always— he held steadfast to not showing it. eren has always had bravado, even when stuck in a hopeless ditch. ]
( Armin presses his lips into a barely held line: nods, once or twice, the way one only can when their tears become too much.
let's just go.
another nod. a breath that almost hiccups. a long moment between then and the slow unfurling of Armin's posture. he extricates himself from Eren — not at all — only enough to straighten, arm round the small of Eren's back. Eren's about his shoulders had felt good, something right feeling and warm synchrony can't simulate.
sniffing, Armin blots his face, using the inside of his forearm, irritating the slight burns there and against his cheek (likely not yet obvious for the splotchy flush brought on by so many tears). in that, Armin is not self conscious: Eren has watched him cry more times than either can count (that he cares is so constant as to be unconscious), but the emotion is raw and mournful, least of all for a moment of synchrony.
hesitant, Armin lifts his gaze, not yet ready to say or do anything. )
[ this was about to be one of the most silent, awkward walks they've made side by side as eren started first, on arm slung over the blond's shoulders and vaguely aware of the pressure on his lower back. gradually, eren mentally wasn't as near as his gesture and words had sought to be. his thoughts make him drift far and go through the motions of walking rather than living each step, to the point where he wasn't paying attention to where they were going. just— walking. maybe it'll lead to the embassy. maybe the wild metropolis. there was too much to think about, and armin from a future as a ghastly as he knows hadn't eased or halted eren's muted descent into hell.
without looking at him, and, eventually, eren speaks up, but only after a good five to ten minutes in quiet. ]
Your's is blue.
[ the thought made verbal was broken in delivery— it started about halfway after eren was thinking of it in full. an observation of his glowing gem under his button down, but a clue to what he was thinking of before, maybe. there were a lot of things that could come from it, but eren doesn't make it known.
it was ironic. blue, like the sea armin had dreamed of and where eren's ceased and only saw a vast horizon of red. did that mean there was more to these gems? ]
( a soft "mm" of acknowledgement. in a better, less gloomy mood, Armin might flush: self aware and self conscious some god — or at least its representative jewel — of water and virtue would bond to him. Armin watches the floor before their feet. )
I think your temperature is because of yours. ( and if Eren's fever had since lowered... probably, sapphire has a calming effect. (or...) too soon. too raw. Armin is, still, collecting his thoughts, making sense of his first impression of synchrony.
how, or perhaps who, had initiated the moment, he can't say. but he knows who had ended it, and he knows he doesn't quite mind: the synchrony, pleasant, yes, but dark and overwhelming, perhaps for the sort of people, the sort of monsters, he and Eren are. )
[ better this at the moment than not, or something else, those things that he'd left behind. eventually, eren's arm slips from its branch on armin's shoulders to hang loosely at his sides. ]
Have you tried using it?
[ he vaguely remembers the scientists in their banter of information that eren would have to gradually wrap his head around rather than immediately. the pauses in between are still pregnant, eren nearly didn't even ask another question— but the awkward attempts are still there. ]
( that, Armin minds a little, a slight sag in his shoulders. his arm likewise falls to his side. )
Not on purpose. Those scientists said I can heal people, but... ( a turn of Armin's head. he examines Eren. ) You, still, look kind of red. Whatever's helping your fever must be passive. They said our gems need a certain kind of energy to use their powers.
( is this something Eren had or hadn't heard after his own arrival? the moment takes a familiar beat. )
[ heal people . . . eren could only dwell on it for a moment before armin would begin to consider his silence as ignorance. eren was a chronic spacer when there were more important things on his mind, though— he vaguely remembers a thing or two, and uses what would make the most sense. ]
Synchrony, right?
[ wrong. well, almost. he wasn't listening intently enough to distinguish the process and the actual energy. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
FOR ARMIN
[ they were all . . . disoriented, maybe, it wasn’t out of line for eren yet. as he approached and closed his distance, nothing had seemed odd enough for him to take much notice of. if they were still on their trip (for eren, a one-way) he probably would’ve been too busy roving into the sea of his own distress. he might still be close to that edge, very close, especially when . . . how would he be able to accomplish anything if he didn’t? eren speaks to him with a nod, something about it casual if not a touch relieved, despite the reservation eren has dawned over the years from loud mouth to quiet. ]
Yeah, [ he tries to keep the soft escalation in his breathing under control, only visible through the soft up and down of his suit and tie as he held out his hand. ] can you stand?
[ something was wrong, after all. ]
no subject
then, a slowness verging on mechanical, Armin accepts, rising to his feet once more. Eren's skin blazes hot; the sensation, not unfamiliar for any titan shifter. (is that it, then? is Eren fresh from the Founding Titan's nape?) (that isn't right. Eren is in a suit. his hair is short. is this place real?) Armin begins to return to himself. his gaze meets Eren. )
Eren. Is it over?
( beneath the fit of Armin's button front, low on his sternum, a sapphire has taken residence. )
no subject
. . . The party? [ it was the only linear event to him that made any sense. it was the last time eren had seen him, even if he was hanging back as a wallflower. he gives both a nod and a roll of his shoulder that, coupled, went along the lines of “yes” and “i guess so”. ] I fell asleep. [ . . . ] I think we all did.
[ had armin changed his clothes, then? eren can’t help but to observe, eyes traveling down and back up, from armin’s shoes to his sea blue eyes. ]
breakdances sadly
We were... In Marley... ( Eren had left: the association, some critical juncture none of them had realized until too late, the last he and their friends had seen Eren, not until raiding Liberio. ) You —
Eren — ( something in Armin — in his voice — cracks. his expression crumbles. he crosses the threshold, reaching for the other boy. maybe these are his last moments, self inflicting torture born from guilt and failure. maybe this place is real. maybe he should kill Eren. )
Please, don't get any further away from us. Please, just trust us. ( Armin's face feels funny. like he might cry. ) We'll find a way!
i thought about this all weekend 😭
Armin— [ he starts, quiet, but then his eyes narrow— nothing brusque or brash, but perhaps hoping that it would be a way to see the cause of this. something hadn’t added up. ] That never worried you. [ it wasn’t a jab, but an observation that comes opposite as to how armin was. is. why was he in partial uniform? why did he care, suddenly? he had always been blindingly hopeful and idealistic to the point that he’s stopped arguing. eren isn’t moved to decide differently— but it does clasp at his heart in silence, even when all the hopeless darkness told him, truly, that there was no other way, and the longer he waited the more the already waning options thinned to nothing.
he could trust them to do certain things, but not this. ]
Why are you saying this? Now?
[ he was about to leave them behind. he knew that. he knew somewhere deep down that the night was going to be his last and that it was his farewell. armin would wake up, get ready— and realize eren was gone only after mikasa saw him slipping out the forum’s back doors. ]
kdfs meanwhile i meditated this tooooo long
more so as his gaze falters and lowers. Armin's shoulders sag. can he tell Eren? how long had he been planning the rumbling? (no, months until the raid on Liberio, Yelena had already played her part.) rather, how long had Eren committed himself to the thought?
those enemies on the other side of here... if we kill them all, does that mean we'll be free?
they aren't good people — not the way Mikasa had pleaded in Niccolo's restaurant — but maybe... Reiner is right... does Eren want to be stopped? does this Eren? can he? (he won't leave Paradis's future to fate, he had said, but that Eren... doesn't he realize the world he wants is the one they thought was real? and it had already killed so many people?) )
Do you really care about Paradis's future? Us Subjects of Ymir will probably never stop fighting each other. ( meeting Eren's gaze, ) We killed a lot of Survey Corps... Just to get to Odiha.
squeezes my chest
the one thing that puts a fracture in his indignation is another piece of a puzzle that was coming through in trickles, and one that still left a hole in its entirety. eren’s gaze goes from disbelief to blatant, wide eyed disorientation. ]
We never went to Odiha.
[ it was a planned, pinpointed location that the rumbling would pass through, with yelena’s help in spreading out their options and the optimal places to hit first before reaching the fort.
but only eren, yelena and floch knew that. none of them would leak it, and historia wouldn’t either. was he hearing and seeing things? was he in some kind of overlap? was he— paths? there were different dimensions open to bringing people here, could those include their own in separate spaces? if paths is timeless, ]
When are you from?
[ he didn’t get this type of communication when it was just him and his father. the memory of that wonderful sight had armin in it, for a second, he remembered—. ]
no subject
a tremble overtakes Armin's voice, the touch of either hand against Eren's shoulders. his eyes shine, a wet and stricken quality as he speaks. ) Please, don't do it. What about all those refugees in Marley? They shared all their alcohol with us. Even though we didn't understand each other!
( but they aren't good people. if he had to... Armin would hurt them, too. )
Maybe it's too late to stop Marley declaring war on us. But the wall titans from the outer districts will stop any invasion. Give Commander Hange and us more time!
If, if we can't understand each other, we can at least show the world it's better to be our friends than our enemies!
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but these were words that did not help him, nor would they for armin. eren’s voice comes like the crack of thunder, his fingers harsh into the blond’s shoulders, ]
Armin, [ he won’t. he won’t. he won’t hear this bullshit again, his height firmly hanging over the other boy’s with his eyes irately fixated, ] I asked you a question.
[ whether it was a roughed up sign for him to stop before eren said something he didn’t want to (which was very close to happening), or because he really did want to know—
actually, no. it wouldn’t matter if he knew. this . . . was enough of an answer. he simply would not stand to hear what he already knew for three (four) whole years. ]
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is Eren going to hit him?
(that's right, that fate Eren claims he can't abide, inflexible to only one end since they were children. if he can't accept compromise, what alternative replaces the only two options he presents, Eldia or the world? ...Armin doesn't know. Armin supposes it might not matter.) )
You said you wouldn't take our freedom... ( another crumble in Armin's already broken expression. he tears his eyes from Eren, watching the low space between them. )
But you gave it to Ymir the founder, too. ( right? a breath through Armin's nose. he slumps in the other's grip, perhaps finally defeated, dispossessed of some illusion. ) Eren... You were right. I was useless to the very end. The person that should've died in Shiganshina... Wasn't Commander Erwin.
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eren’s fingers rub briefly before awkwardly retreating back to his sides in a quick slump. eren didn’t know every detail of the future, but he knew pockets. whatever armin knew, eren didn’t know exactly when but had a feeling. ymir was free, the rumbling, odiha, that marvelous sight. ]
You’re not. [ it comes out in an exhale held for longer than needed, his hands sniping his fedora right off his head as he combed through his hair, anxiously, with his free hand. but, fuck, what else is he supposed to say about all of this? this armin is from after the rumbling— no, it’s still happening. ] It’s . . . Not your fault.
[ he doesn’t know— nothing they say will change anything. he doesn’t know, but—
something still tugs in his chest. maybe it’s missing . . . everything, but it’s been so far away he’d just keep drifting farther. ]
I think it was supposed to happen. From the start. Nothing we did changed it. Even now, [ he gestures, but undeniably crestfallen, ] you’re proof.
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would the power of the titans return to their world? (he supposes this place is real.) (whenever the thought settled upon him.)
Armin feels so tired, ready to crawl into bed (or at least the plush seating here), but if he's already dead in their world, he can't waste this one.
after a moment, long, lifting his gaze, ) The Marleyans with us keep asking if we'll kill you. ( the emotion in Armin's eyes borders empty: no threat, no resolution, no hope. ) I promised our friends it's a last resort. After every avenue of dialogue is exhausted.
( maybe he can't. maybe that he can't means Eren is right. maybe... ) Maybe... We'll find another way in Noctium.
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it was truly as ghastly as he thought it’d be, but what protects his memories are heavenly clouds, and rationale haunts him at night when it’s too dark to parse them.
we’ll find another way in noctium. something in him still hoped somehow that, maybe it could be the case, but . . . until when and where was all of this concrete enough to confide in for an answer? time has squeezed every drip of hope from him as is. there’s nothing we can do is on his tongue, just about ready to fall from the tip. there’s no other way, you can’t have both, i’m sorry.
you’re wasting your time
forget about me, i’m not worth it
but eren inhales, holds his breath, and none of it comes out. ]
Yeah.
[ empty. he doesn’t want to extend an inevitably dead-ended argument. it’s bound to crop up again, and now that he knows that armin knows . . . it probably won’t be the last he hears of this. he doesn’t know how he’ll react next time.
but right now his stomach is dropping so low into his gut that it burns. he too, is probably scalding from the surface, only made apparent when his ears, neck and knuckles were bright lobster red. looking too close toward the window, as aimless as his gaze was, made it fog up in front of him; he doesn’t seem to mind that he can’t see beyond the misty blotch. it wasn’t as if he was looking at anything, at most, armin’s reflection, one that quickly became a blur of blond hair. ]
I promised the same thing to myself.
[ that it was the last resort. god how he wished things could be different. that he could be apt to having a different conversation here. that they could be smiling and laughing even though he was hollow inside himself. they filled up the cracks with something to look forward to, at least. at least . . . it’s what made him go through with the rest, and keep going, and keep going.
no matter how much time they’ve spent together in the past, eren feels like an alienated stranger. it’s so fucking stupid but he can’t even look armin in the eye now. it’s hard to face him— ]
I know you’ll pull through when you have to.
[ whatever it was— even if it wasn’t something armin wanted. ]
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a deep breath through his nose. devoid of any highstrung emotion, Armin's thoughts are clear enough to reason Eren likely hasn't used his titan. Armin shifts the weight in his hips, reaching for the crook of Eren's arm — a light grip — testing the new boundary between them. )
Let's find the infirmary. ( tentative, Armin lifts his gaze, empty... but searching Eren's. ) You're running some kind of fever.
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there’s no doubt, from the bottom of his heart, that eren wishes for them to feel that again. wishes that he could sit across armin as the wide eyed kid being told he could dream. the dreams are fake (or not? he still saw it— but the cost—). he really wishes they could be happy, even if he wasn’t going to be a part of it anymore. he wishes for armin back, as much as something in him wants to recoil at his guiding touch and at the same damn time allow them both the proximity they’ve always had before he drifted. it makes him feel all the more monstrous. selfish mountain of shit. he’s scorching to the touch. at any moment he could fume— but he doesn’t. at most, the surface of his red skin beginning to fracture sizzles into a decline.
it’s for that very reason, while eren’s eyes cast downward to his feet and after much deliberation, let his fingers hang on armin’s sleeve, that the ruby stone tucked beneath his collar glows an accumulating blood red, illuminates his chin and the rest of his face from below to cast shadows— unseen gates click, arrange and open to a flood of what might better be described as dewy, enjoyable even, if not for the braids of guilt and sadness that would come with a profound i’m sorry. he doesn’t know he’s allowed synchrony until it’s too late. ]
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a sense of warmth, contentment, indescribable rightness, rushing Armin like a summer's day wave. his fingers curl, tight against Eren's arm — tight, tighter, a self loathing Armin might think belongs to him if not for the guilt, the longing, something insurmountable and terrible. Armin is not aware of his own tears until his vision blurs.
low, he jerks his head, eyes closed, a hint of his own self loathing (overwhelmed) (pathetic). Armin considers only a moment... then, leans into Eren, arms about him, fingers rumpling his suit jacket. against the impossible heat of his body, Armin flushes, humid in his own clothes; the stinging needles of pain, reminders of another life: Trost, Stohess, he had always been so afraid Eren would run too far ahead, to places he couldn't follow. when had he stopped?
through the white of Armin's button front, the sapphire glows, a deep, dark ocean blue. )
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he was aware that he was crying, or starting to, before he met the flush in his friend’s cheeks or his eyes to see, and not long after, if not immediately, the base of eren’s nose burns before his vision does. he’s aware of how useless armin feels but how much they— how much this—
a cleft of fright interrupts their connection that might as well make the experience a disappointment for halting so soon. a part of him hadn’t wanted to, but another did: one that rose too much internal conflict. he was just hurting armin and he was going to hurt him more some ways in the future— look at him. it breaks, eren’s breathing escalates only through his nostrils, but it might be clear, even as he’s steadying armin and trying to read through the dip of his head: he’s afraid to let it go any further.
was proximity the answer? he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to say no outright. it’s— confusing, but any inviting warmth in his belly had cooled, and with the light of his gem fading came the expansion of a wasteland in his gut. he didn’t want to feel this way, but what was the right choice? ]
I don’t know . . .
[ he trails off easily. because he doesn’t know what the right thing to do here should be. he just had to hold off the tears, which, might not be falling, but they’re glazing eren’s eyes. ]
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had he said something aloud? Armin burrows his face even lower — I don't know, either! screamt through his core as though drowning — distantly aware the new stretch of skin pressing against Eren is less tight, less painful, the way parts of his arms, long strips of his belly and thighs are. Armin sobs, hard, mouth open, shoulders shaking, lungs hitching. ) Eren...
( even this hot, Armin prickles gooseflesh, something tense in the air, Eren or his own sudden fear. tears distort Armin's voice. ) Please... Don't leave! ( the possibility terrifies him more than anything Eren has done. will do. )
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Stop— stop crying, [ eren finally decides, but lacking much demand in his voice as he offered some sort of peace that he had assumed fake at first, but, ] I’m not— [ his swallow strains, audible, and his eyes have gone some ways pink where they should be white. they sting— ] going anywhere right now.
[ to their dismay or not, whether that would be comfort or not. his last ditch effort is to wrangle armin’s body into his by a firm wrap around the shoulders. their gems don’t glow, he was still afraid. but as always— he held steadfast to not showing it. eren has always had bravado, even when stuck in a hopeless ditch. ]
Let’s just go.
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let's just go.
another nod. a breath that almost hiccups. a long moment between then and the slow unfurling of Armin's posture. he extricates himself from Eren — not at all — only enough to straighten, arm round the small of Eren's back. Eren's about his shoulders had felt good, something right feeling and warm synchrony can't simulate.
sniffing, Armin blots his face, using the inside of his forearm, irritating the slight burns there and against his cheek (likely not yet obvious for the splotchy flush brought on by so many tears). in that, Armin is not self conscious: Eren has watched him cry more times than either can count (that he cares is so constant as to be unconscious), but the emotion is raw and mournful, least of all for a moment of synchrony.
hesitant, Armin lifts his gaze, not yet ready to say or do anything. )
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without looking at him, and, eventually, eren speaks up, but only after a good five to ten minutes in quiet. ]
Your's is blue.
[ the thought made verbal was broken in delivery— it started about halfway after eren was thinking of it in full. an observation of his glowing gem under his button down, but a clue to what he was thinking of before, maybe. there were a lot of things that could come from it, but eren doesn't make it known.
it was ironic. blue, like the sea armin had dreamed of and where eren's ceased and only saw a vast horizon of red. did that mean there was more to these gems? ]
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I think your temperature is because of yours. ( and if Eren's fever had since lowered... probably, sapphire has a calming effect. (or...) too soon. too raw. Armin is, still, collecting his thoughts, making sense of his first impression of synchrony.
how, or perhaps who, had initiated the moment, he can't say. but he knows who had ended it, and he knows he doesn't quite mind: the synchrony, pleasant, yes, but dark and overwhelming, perhaps for the sort of people, the sort of monsters, he and Eren are. )
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Have you tried using it?
[ he vaguely remembers the scientists in their banter of information that eren would have to gradually wrap his head around rather than immediately. the pauses in between are still pregnant, eren nearly didn't even ask another question— but the awkward attempts are still there. ]
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Not on purpose. Those scientists said I can heal people, but... ( a turn of Armin's head. he examines Eren. ) You, still, look kind of red. Whatever's helping your fever must be passive. They said our gems need a certain kind of energy to use their powers.
( is this something Eren had or hadn't heard after his own arrival? the moment takes a familiar beat. )
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Synchrony, right?
[ wrong. well, almost. he wasn't listening intently enough to distinguish the process and the actual energy. ]
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