
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11563812.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Reiner_Braun/Eren_Jaeger, implied_Bertholdt/Reiner_-_Relationship, Eren/
      Annie_if_you_really_squint, Bertholdt_Hoover_&_Reiner_Braun
  Character:
      Reiner_Braun, Eren_Jaeger, Bertholdt_Hoover, Ymir_(Shingeki_no_Kyojin),
      Survey_Corps_(Shingeki_no_Kyojin)
  Additional Tags:
      Animalistic, Angst, Titan_Shifters, POV_Reiner_Braun, Canon-Typical
      Violence, Loss_of_Limbs, Chapter_46, look_I_wrote_something_else_that
      isn't_eren/annie, Please_Don't_Kill_Me, Whump, Dead_Dove:_Do_Not_Eat,
      Character_Death, Chicken_(game_of), Trauma, Sexual_Violence, non-con,
      this_is_just_REALLY_fucking_uncomfortable_okay, Eren's_in_his_angry
      phase, and_he_plays_chicken_with_an_emotionally_unstable_reiner, what_a
      bad_idea, Asphyxiation, Aftermath_of_Violence, Horror, Alternate_Universe
      -_Canon_Divergence, Survival, coordinate_use_(shingeki_no_kyojin), holy
      shit_look_at_all_the_warnings, Pov_Eren_Jaeger, Extended_Metaphors,
      really_it's_about_as_gay_as_the_film_deliverance, or_the_book_i_guess
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-16 Completed: 2017-09-07 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 5646
****** Feigling ******
by Dorminchu
Summary
     In the safety of the trees, Eren won't stop struggling. Reiner gets
     carried away in an attempt to shut him up, and things quickly spiral
     out of control. [ch. 46, reiner/eren, thoroughly unpleasant]
Notes
     a/n: So, Eren/Reiner. Here's a ship I never thought I'd touch upon.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Outrage *****
Within the Titan's jaws, Eren is safe enough. Bertholdt clings to his armoured
shoulder, clutching Ymir's limp body.
And Reiner, he runs. For an ambiguous length of time, 'til he's not sure if
it's fatigue or guilt that colours his steps and keeps him weary. There's not
much to see. Just an endless stretch of grassy plane before him. The few Titans
that he encounters are smart enough to leave him alone.
So, Reiner has time to think. Nothing good comes to mind, though. He doesn't
dwell upon what he's doing, or what they'll have to do with the Coordinate once
they reach their destination.
Keeping an eye out for Titans or horses, even when he knows full well the
Scouts will have to regroup. There's plenty of time for him and Bertholdt to
put a good distance between the opposition; not enough to let himself get
comfortable.
He's sick of worrying all the time, so he keeps up his pace, a mechanical,
steady clip, not enough to tire out too quickly. It feels like hours, but he
knows it can't be that long, watching the horizon. The sun moves at a crawl.
This island is mocking him. He'll never be fast enough.
Closing his eyes, he can pretend he's close enough to shore. The others are
waiting. Bertholdt and Annie and Marcel, and Galliard, and Zeke, and his mum
and dad. All waiting.
It's easy to fall even deeper into the falsities of his previous existence.
Like sticking your head underwater to see how long you can go without taking in
air. Each time, you wait a little more. Prove that you're strong enough to
withstand the burn in your lungs. Prove that you're the toughest sunuva' bitch
on this cursed island.
Eren, still tangible on his tongue like a solid speck. A lump of meat, an
indigestible pebble. Something that is kept alive out of necessity rather than
sentimentality.
And Bertholdt on his shoulder.
Reiner opens his eyes and the world blooms into focus. He's still alone. Still
moving.
Sky and field beyond. No Titans. But something else catches his attention: the
familiar, dense shape of the forest.
He moves faster. Titans will probably be clustered, around and within the
safety provided by these trees. He has to make this count.
===============================================================================
Now: out of the Titan, ascending. Eren's tucked under his arm. Peaceful,
despite his slurred, incomprehensible mumbling and the unsteady flutter of his
legs against the air. He's heavily scarred, already lost a boot and his
maneouvre gear. Reiner was smart. He took the gear for himself, but he was
sloppy about the bite; hell, Eren's lucky he lost his arms and not half his
torso.
His spine is intact. That's what matters.
Up in the trees, all four of them can recuperate.
Ymir keeps to her own branch. Bertholdt stays by his side until he suggests to
Reiner that someone ought to keep an eye on her. So Reiner lets him go,
choosing to stay by Eren's side, watching him heal. Once the kid comes back to
consciousness, he'll just put up another fight. That's understandable. Eren's a
spitfire to begin with. And he's got every right to be angry with him and
Bertholdt, given the knowledge that's come to pass. Anyone would be angry.
By now, he's just putting up a façade of composure for Bertholdt's sake. Reiner
dreads the impending confrontation with the kid, because at the end of the day,
Eren is just that — a kid. They're all children on opposing sides. Reiner's a
boy trapped in the body of a man. Bertholdt's the inverse; boy-ish, sure, but
still wiser than any boy Reiner has known. And Ymir? She's an enigma he would
rather not think about at present.
The sun has yet to set, colouring the sky a light pink where it touches the
horizon. The air is chilly up here; down below, the Titans are lurking about.
More are coming out from among the trees, the longer they wait. When Bertholdt
points this out, Reiner doesn't acknowledge him, but he wonders if they are
attracted to Eren and Ymir, who are both still healing. There's no way to be
sure without somebody losing another limb.
But there's been enough of a reprieve from the Scouts and native Titans that
Reiner is almost — almost — ready to let his guard down a little.
Until Eren wakes up, silent, which is far more frightening. Reiner expected
noise, expected threats. But Eren is calm. The first words that are out of his
mouth are: "Why are my arms gone?"
This isn't an unfair question. Bloody nubs are all that remain. Reiner raises
his eyebrows. When Eren scowls and rolls his shoulders haplessly, it's a
grotesquely comedic image.
"I didn't have much time to get you outta there. Had to make some sacrifices."
All Eren says is: "Oh."
His eyes are darker than Reiner's ever seen them. It's like the monster lying
dormant has come to the surface, trapped in the body of a mortal.
"Reiner..." starts Bertholdt quietly, "didn't you say we'd talk, once he woke
up?"
Ymir perks up from her perch below. Reiner shrugs, says: "Sure, we can talk.
What d'you want to discuss?"
"Why'd you bite my fuckin' arms off?" Eren cuts in before anyone can answer.
"Why didn't you kill me while you had the chance?"
"You know, you're lucky I let you keep your head," says Reiner before he can
think better of it. He's done pretending to be civil.
Eren's smile is slow to dawn on his lips, harsh and twisted. "I'm lucky? I'm
fucking LUCKY? You bit my goddam arms off!" He's snarling. "I guess you're
right! I AM lucky! I must be the luckiest person in the world, to be able to
reflect on how I've been captured by a couple of heartless bastards!"
Ymir sighs audibly. This does not help curb Reiner's temper. Who does Jaeger
think he is, to call them murderers? How many people, Reiner thinks viciously,
have YOU killed without knowing it, and been told you're just eliminating
mindless Titans?
As much as Reiner would like to spit these words at him, he's sure they'll just
go in one ear and out the other. There's no telling how Ymir will respond to
such information, either. So he holds his tongue and looks away.
"Oh, what? You're just gonna ignore me, now? Don't you have something to say
for yourself? What about you, Bertholdt?"
Bertholdt's exhale is slow. "What about me, Eren?"
Eren's so angry it's like he's fighting for words. "You — and him, you knew
where I came from, all this time, and you were — I can't believe I trusted you,
I can't believe I let myself think we were —" his voice rises, then trembles,
cutting off only to return at full-force "— you're a couple of fuckin'
traitors!" he spits out, petulant, as if he's too tired for his own emotions,
slumping back into the tree, almost defeated.
There's a difference between them, Reiner thinks. Eren, may be useful in his
own right, yet he's never claimed to be humanity's saviour. And yet, he
probably still thinks he can protect everyone that matters to him. Reiner likes
to think he's at least realistic about who he can and cannot save. Many people
will die in a war. A lot of them are innocents. Eren doesn't know the truth,
yet. He can't hope to understand.
Running all of that over in his head should make this easier to deal with. It
doesn't help at all.
"What do you want me to say?" Bertholdt speaks with a forced air of calm. "That
you're right? That we are monsters? We didn't know any better. We were used,
just like you're being used by the Scouts. All of us, we're pawns in a war."
"Don't lump me in with you!" Eren spits at him.
Reiner stiffens. "Leave him alone, Eren."
"I wasn't talkin' to you!" Eren's laugh is venomous. "And look. You're
defending him. I can't — nah, I can believe it. I just don't want to, that
you'd be such a..."
He rambles on. There comes an urge, selfish and ugly, to throw the boy over the
tree and let the Titans consume his ungrateful body. But Reiner knows that
won't do any good. Hell, it's not like he's even asking Eren to agree with him,
just listen for a moment. Maybe he's slipping, starting to see a bit of the
same idealistic idiot who thought he could save his mother from an inevitable
fate.
The idea of this comparison makes Reiner round on the boy, sick with anger.
"Shut up," he growls, unable to stand the vitriol, "shut the fuck up, there are
Titans around."
"Make me," Eren snarls at him, "or I'll fuckin' kill you first."
The boy grunts when Reiner shunts him upright, against the tree. Reiner doesn't
know what he's doing. He just wants the impossible. He's always wanted the
impossible. This is no different.
"Reiner!" Bertholt cries, but it comes as though from faraway; blood is singing
in Reiner's ears. Eren's eyes go wide with shock, and then he reverts to anger.
"What the hell d'you think you're —"
Suddenly they're nose-to-nose. Eren gasps when their foreheads knock together.
Reiner's grip on his shoulders is bruising.
"Stop," Reiner says harshly. "I swear to God. Before I —"
"Before you what." Eren's eyes are hollow. He's sneering. "Before you what," he
says again.
"I'm not gonna kill you, if you keep talking like that. But you'll wish I did."
Eren's anger is underscored by uncertainty. "What the hell — what are you
talking about?" he demands. "You have me where you want, just —"
He starts to struggle again. Reiner's hands are large enough he can dwarf half
of the boy's head. And with that thought in mind, he grabs him by the hair and
slams his skull against the tree to make him stop.
"Listen to yourself!" he roars. "You don't even have an argument! You just
wanna tell me you hate me, but you think I don't know that by now? It won't
bring your mother back! It won't bring anyone back!"
"DON'T —" Eren shrieks, his face screwed up "— TALK ABOUT HER, YOU PIECE OF —"
He's back to incoherence, his thrashing an act of ungainly violence that is
more pathetic than anything. Reiner tries remind himself that, Shifter or not,
Eren was born on this island. He is nothing special, even with the Coordinate
inside of him, but more importantly, he doesn't know any better.
(It strikes Reiner, in this moment, that he is probably too far gone to
recover, and his own anger is borne of a guilty conscience, even when a big
part of him wants to knock some sense into the kid's stubborn head before he
hurts himself. He's not guilty enough to forego anger. He just doesn't want to
argue anymore.)
Until Reiner realises it's not rage that keeps Eren wracked with grief; his
cheeks are still flushed, but his eyes are swimming. And Reiner doesn't know
what to do with him. He just looks and looks as though it will give him an idea
of what he is supposed to do, but:
"Stop —" Eren chokes, turning his head into his chest, "d-don't fuckin' — look
at me, like that, you don't have the right, you don't —"
But the fire's gone. He shudders apart in Reiner's hands. And Reiner doesn't
slam his head again. Something like instinct wells up inside of him and he
wraps the boy up in a stiff, crushing sort of hug and rocks. And Eren sputters
but does not fight. He instead shivers, slowly going limp.
Reiner is struck by this, because he got Eren to shut up, but he's also taken
by the way the kid is curling into him, perhaps provided something he has
always wanted but never known to ask for. So Reiner leans up, plants a kiss to
the crown of his head.
It's a mistake. Eren goes tense. He doesn't say anything. Staring at Reiner,
red-eyed and pathetic, making no attempt to hide his grief. And Reiner would be
loathe to admit it to anyone but he's scared as hell.
(Or he thinks he is, at first. But the longer he looks Eren Jaeger in the face,
the quicker it dawns on him that he is not afraid. It feels much more like
jealousy, like spite and repugnance. How dare you. What gives you the right to
grieve when I've done nothing but try to help you, you ungrateful little —)
Grabbing Eren by the hair, tugging him up into a kiss that can hardly be
classified as such, all crushing mouths and jaws and teeth, rough and bruising,
just shy of bloody. Eren's spitting, his whole face flushed pink.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bertholdt shouts, appalled. "We're don't have
time for —"
"Stay out of it." Reiner hardly recognises his own voice, like that of a
madman, someone ready to kill over fresh meat. Turning back to Eren, there's a
look in the kid's eyes that gives him pause. Eren probably knows he's in too
deep. Pride and anger are the only reasons he's still standing his ground. But
Reiner doesn't feel anything but a vicious sort of possessiveness; after all,
it's his duty to protect the power the boy contains, not the vessel itself.
Distantly he thinks he can hear Ymir say something terse like: "Not my problem.
And it's not yours, really, so why don't you and I just keep an eye on the
Titans until they work this out?"
Tune it out, coming back to the only thing that matters. "You think you're the
only one who's lost anything?" Reiner whispers into Eren's wet cheek. "Do you
even know what you're fighting for?"
Eren's been watching the two of them as though Reiner isn't here. He jolts at
the question. "What the hell is wrong with you," he says, but he sounds afraid
more than angry.
Reiner laughs softly. "A hell of a lot."
Vaguely, Reiner wonders what is making him do this. Perhaps living amongst
these Eldians has caused him to become soft, twisted in his head. Perhaps he's
seeking after Eren in a bid to capture that righteous anger, that perishable
innocence, the perverted reflection of himself in another's eyes. This isn't
love. But it's not exactly hatred. It's something wretched and fucked-up and
far too human for his liking. It's not as though he doesn't — didn't — care for
the boy, when they were cadets. He just won't allow himself to bend like Annie.
If he is to be denied everything else in this miserable existence, it's Eren he
will take. Not in any good conscience, but he's not well enough to stop
himself.
That's Bertholdt's job. But Bertholdt isn't here right now. And Reiner's
finished playing the part of Marcel, at least, for the moment.
Eren's breath is ragged, feverish. Reiner sits back, still hunched over him.
"You think I'm scared enough not to take what I want?"
The boy's expression wavers on the line between fear and despair. Then his eyes
harden like glass. "You won't," he says, falsely sardonic, "you're all talk,
you ain't really gonna do shit to m —" He hits the tree again, the argument
knocked out of him temporarily.
"Someone really oughta put you in your place," says Reiner coldly. Pulls the
boy in for another kiss before Eren can bite.
Eren never bites. He just trembles. Reiner starts rucking up his shirt,
mouthing down his throat.
"What ab — about Ber — Bertholdt,"he hisses, frantic, as though to redirect.
"What about 'im?"
Running a hand up the boy's naked chest; his body is small, unmarred where it
is not regenerating, sticky with blood and sweat against his own hardened
fingers. Eren becomes hazy-eyed and forlorn. Reiner smooths his hair back in an
attempt at consolation, but: "Don't — don't touch me like that, you prick. If
you're gonna, just..." His body shudders, hackles raised. "Just get it over
with."
He can do that. Tugging the boy out of his chinos, he probably ruins 'em in the
process, flesh rubbed red where the fabric has chafed against skin. Eren's body
jerks at the violence of the motion, but his lips part: "Reinerâ€¦" Could be a
plea for reconsideration or to advance. The ambiguity of the situation makes
this decision easier.
The boy jolts when his legs are drawn apart, constricted by fabric. Reiner
ignores his own dick for the moment and takes his thumb into his mouth briefly,
withdraws it short thereafter with a little pop to cup one thigh in the same
palm, rubbing saliva over his arse-hole before pressing in. Whatever Eren's
next insult was, it turns into a gasp, hoarse and squeaky.
Reiner supposes Eren doesn't like to be touched to begin with. He would be
mindful if he weren't seeing red.
It's hot inside, kind of like a live animal before it's killed and gutted.
Tight, mostly. Probably never been fucked like this, Reiner thinks and doesn't
say, then feels like hitting something just to feel the sting, a reminder he
isn't dreaming and he's just as much of a sorry piece of shit as he would like
to forget.
But that's beside the point. He isn't gonna fit at this rate. He takes away his
hand and weighs his options. There's no oil. Can't risk drawing blood when
Eren's unstable enough to try and Shift, even if he can't transform at all.
Reiner supposes he could let the kid come first, but it'll dry too quick. He's
not even that angry, now. He splays Eren again with his thumb, wetting his
lips, eyes drifting down.
He pushes in with a finger. With his other hand he catches Eren by the dick.
The boy gasps, groaning before he can stop himself. His hips jump to the touch
and he's chewing his lip viciously, head bowed, whole-body tense. Reiner's
smile is wooden. He gives Eren's arse a little squeeze the way he imagines one
would squeeze a breast.
Then he ducks down. "What're y-you —" Eren gasps.
"You want it to hurt or not," Reiner says, nose trailing down his stomach. He
gives the kid's cock an idle glance before he takes it in his mouth.
Eren's struck into silence, for the moment. Reiner pokes around until he finds
what he's looking for; the sound that leaves Eren is somewhat disconcerting,
like a cat in distress. He keeps choking on air, the longer Reiner goes at it.
He gets him close. Won't let him come, yet.
Once he thinks he's done enough work he lets the cock fall out of his mouth and
gives Eren another finger, nipping, licking at his thighs, enough to leave a
mark but not to puncture. Eren tries to close his legs around him, or perhaps
keep him where he is. Reiner snorts, parts that hold easily. Sitting up, he
wraps his free hand around the boy's throat and starts pumping his fingers much
harder. "You're an insufferable little shit, but I'm not gonna kill you," says
Reiner huskily. "Ain't safe to be makin' that much noise."
Eren rasps, his eyes popping open, flashing and accusatory. Trying to pant but
he can only manage these shallow huffs. Reiner crooks his fingers again,
loosening his grip on the boy's jugular, and Eren moans raggedly into the open
air before his hand closes again.
Then Reiner stops. Repositions. Thumb against the bob of his throat. The look
on Eren's face is somewhere between distress and indignation and genuine fear
as Reiner's working with his own pants, pulling out his cock because it's been
goddam painful for a while now. Lifting Eren off the ground one-handed is easy.
Pinning him is easy, too, when he is crumpled, his legs still tangled in his
trousers, caught between their bodies. For the hell of things, Reiner grabs
both their cocks and starts pumping at leisure. Eren's eyes flutter, hissing
every breath through his teeth.
Reiner adds a third finger, cupping his arse in his palm. Eren makes a pitiful
noise and starts trying to wriggle but there's nowhere to go. Shoved back
'gainst the tree, Eren gasps raggedly when his fingers slip out, then goes
quiet and tense once Reiner moves in close, brushes his fingers to his mouth.
"Suck," he says. "Or I can just take you like this."
It's almost pathetic, how easy that was, and how quickly Eren turns mutinous.
"F-fuck," he seethes, and never gets around to youbecause Reiner already has an
answer, cutting him off with a squeeze, turning him over as the kid coils
himself up. Reiner hauls him arse-first into his lap before one hand slides
between his own legs and he starts to push.
From this angle, Reiner can sorta glean how he looks. His mouth falls open, his
eyes drawn shut, rutting weakly against the air, steam seething from his body.
Reiner says nothing. Takes him slow, but he's not gentle, and he doesn't stop
until he's all-in. And then he sits, and waits, which is probably the kindest
thing he's done since starting.
When Eren tries to get smart with him, Reiner grabs him by the scruff of the
neck and holds Eren's head and stubby shoulders over open air, thrusting in
tandem; suddenly Eren isn't snappish anymore. Suddenly he's gasping, making
these broken noises like a wounded animal that stick in his throat each time
Reiner moves. Eventually he stops struggling and just goes limp. 
The rhythm deteriorates, becomes less about finesse and more about a show of
force. Reiner's hand skates up his back, thumb following the notches of his
spine. Eren loses composure when Reiner bends down and presses a rougher kiss
to his shoulders and nape. Maybe it'd be sweet if they fancied each other.
Way down below, there's a Titan, maybe seven or eight metres, eclipsed by of
one of the trees. Hiding. It's gazing up at them. Reiner can't help but huff.
Then he remembers where he is. He brings Eren back to solid ground, closing him
in. Angling him just so in his lap the way he did with fingers, and suddenly
Eren's incoherent. His legs are shaking. Reiner's hands are full with his body,
and it's less of a fuck than a rut, coalescing heat and steam until it's damn
near suffocating.
At some point, Reiner comes, but it hardly registers. He just sort of fucks
Eren through it until he can't fuck anymore. And then he stops, pulls out, lets
him fall, breathing harshly.
Reiner cleans himself up in silence. Eren remains limp. If not for the flush in
his cheeks, the way his body shivers slightly, he could be a dead man.
The Titan has not moved since Reiner noticed it first.
"You see that?" Reiner whispers, bending down close to Eren's hairline.
"They're waitin', to see if I let you fall. But you're too important to let
die, after the shit I've done to get to you."
Eren says nothing. Reiner scowls. Doesn't want to look at the boy anymore. He
turns away. Doesn't want to look at anyone, anymore.
Silence in the aftermath, uneasy and fragile.
Reiner knows what's coming before the boy lunges at him. He can anticipate the
lunge and bite, the little teeth in his jugular that won't kill, only maim. He
feels the anger beneath Eren's skin before the explosion fills his ears.
He's not angry, though. He's not sure what it is he's feeling when he hits the
ground.
***** A warm place *****
Chapter Summary
     Eren, in the aftermath.
Chapter Notes
     Another one. I suppose it's for myself as much as everyone else who's
     read this far. (To be real with you guys; I've never felt physically
     ill during the writing/editing/reading process of anything I've
     posted, until I came up with this.)
It takes a while for his breath to come back. Even longer for him to accept the
fact that he is still alive. Unsure how that's possible.
The air kisses his skin where he's exposed. He shivers, and even something that
small and involuntary is enough to leave him exhausted. Where are Bertholdt and
Ymir? He doesn't know.
Still trembling, he realises it's not just from cold. He grits his teeth,
stubborn, clenching phantom fists. Ain't gonna break in front of anyone.
Especially not after —
He never finishes the thought; a wave of nausea hits him so hard it takes his
breath away. Whiplash, meet vertigo.
Something's coming back up. Panicking, almost hyperventilating, even when he
tries not to. No arms, so he has to rock, back and forth, to build up momentum.
Tangled up in his own clothes and filth, he's gonna be sick, he's gonna be
sick, oh God he needs to be sick but it won't come out it won't come out of him
and maybe dry-drowning in his own vomit, dying on his knees, is okay, because
it'll be his own decision at least —
But somehow he manages to turn himself over, not quite fast enough. He retches,
thin and insubstantial, all over the tree. Some of it gets on his face. His
throat is dry and burning. Just when thinks he's done it happens again, waiting
in agony for the next purge that will only make him feel rawer; trying to stop,
will himself back to control, but his body won't let him.
It goes and goes. Amazed he has so much bile inside him. Eventually left dry-
heaving, desperate for air. He groans aloud. Trying to register his own voice.
Still trembling violently, still clenching his jaw. Face is wet. Without his
volition. Weakness is an undesirable quality of being human.
Pain's getting worse, everywhere. Skin's scraped raw where he is exposed.
Bruises forming. Should be healing. Probably bleeding instead.
(That shouldn't make him laugh, but he can't help himself; just a little
wheeze, chuckle, his breathing ragged and half-hysterical. Jesus Christ, what
the fuck is wrong with him.)
Off-balance, he can't control his own movement and he topples again, face
first. Acrid smell pervades his nostrils and he tries very hard not to gag. He
curls upon himself the best he can. As though to hide, salvage his sorry self
from the world.
(Hide from what? It's done. Maybe Reiner will kill him next.)
New sound reaches his ears, ugly, wretched, continuous. Eren concedes that he
might be the one making that noise. Head's all foggy. He knows he must be in a
lot of pain still, but it's as if he is floating outside of his physical body.
At some point, though, he stops. Too tired to weep. He could be caught up in
his tumultuous emotions again but no, he isn't, not at all. Perfectly calm. The
anger, the childish hatred, it's burned out, leaving him hollow. A perfect
circle of progression. The stupid, self-righteous boy is back where he started.
Only this time, he knows what he has to do.
Absolutely nothing matters except getting his hands on Reiner. Reiner, who
won't even look at him.
Fucker, he thinks and does not say, his mind a vicious whirlwind.
On the surface, Eren is perfectly tempered. He has to save his strength. He has
to wait. Closing his eyes, he really concentrates on his breathing. Nose all
snotty. Probably running. Doesn't matter.
Everything is gonna be okay. You'll make sure he never does that again. To you,
or anyone else.
AGAIN: and the word's like a blemish, it echoes and runs revolutions around the
inside of his rattled skull. This a cruel world, and an even crueler joke.
That won't help you. Have to get up.
And Eren tries, he really tries. Even breathing hurts. His body protests
movement, the monotony of his continued existence. Head pounding viciously.
Fuck you, I'll fight if I want.
Rolling over so he is pressed back against the tree. More pain, but at least
he's upright. Unsteady now, he rocks himself drunkenly, trying to concentrate.
His eyes drift downward. Titans are clustering around the base of the tree like
hungry dogs. Anticipatory.
This is the perfect moment for Reiner to crush his head in. For whatever
reason, though, he doesn't turn around.
Focus. You're almost there. You're so close.
Even pain isn't enough to distract him. Nothing will come between him and this
single, precious chance. It's easier to justify his actions when he knows he's
about to attack a monster. Reiner's not the one who's injured. Reiner can't
transform. Reiner doesn't have the fucking spine to start what Eren's about to
finish.
Don't think about it now.
Bracing himself. Every inch of him poised to act. Reiner hasn't moved. Eren
waits and waits, but nothing happens. So, Eren decides he will act first;
lunging, clumsy, still tangled up but moving fast. Mouth open, teeth sinking
into his meaty shoulder. Drawing blood.
Shout of pain from Reiner. Another sound leaves Eren in response, muffled
around flesh, feral, triumphant.
Titan explodes into being, light flooding the space around him and the beast
envelops them both within. The branch cracks under pressure, breaks before the
Titan's even fully formed. Falling fast — and Eren's ready (almost) to accept
that he is probably going to die here, but it'll be worth it to kill the
bastard —
===============================================================================
— after all, everything he has forsaken has been building up to this moment —
===============================================================================
                          — and impact shatters him —
                    — and the Titans fall upon them both —
                              — tearing at him —
                              — Eren can't move —
                  — going to die in the dirt like an animal —
===============================================================================
                         — fuck you I won't give in —
                               — not like this —
                          — never never never again —
===============================================================================
Screaming as loud as he can, his throat raw, pure emotional defiance. The titan
screams with him — an unnatural illumination floods the space beneath his
closed eyes like some unholy awakening —
Lightning strikes on a cloudless day — all at once, the other titans, they drop
him like he's poison, scurrying away. The ground rumbles with the sound of
retreat. Inside the nape of the malformed beast, Eren shivers.
Knowing it's temporary safety. Knowing he has seconds to do what he must.
So he forces himself to rise with arms, brittle and malformed — a living
abomination he has brought into being — because the broken body of his enemy is
nestled under flesh and muscle.
But Eren has to make sure he's dead. Trying not to think on what he is about to
do — he makes of himself an offering to the birds — fresh carrion — sending a
message: eradicate the tumor festering beneath the skin.
They creep towards him, careful, like he's going to bite — some put their tiny
hands on him checking for a breach — and then teeth sink into him.
Eren cries out weakly. Too late to stop. More fall upon him, more hands clawing
at the open wound, seeking sustenance within.
Eren gasps, unable to control the sound leaving his throat. He shrieks, and it
won't stop, the pain won't stop — desperate, he screams out loud, hoarse and
high-pitched because it's agony, sweet, unendurable agony being torn into all
over again — hyperventilating unable to tear his eyes away from what is
happening to him —
===============================================================================
                        — isn't this what you wanted? —
===============================================================================
And he knows by now that Reiner is dead, and the others will come for him
(soon?) maybe too late — and all he can do is concentrate on survival but the
only question remaining is if that will be enough. He doesn't know if he can
make this stop in time; his power over the mob is newfound, he's unsure how to
wield it —
Is it better, then, to die here than continue to live, broken and humiliated?
He doesn't know, isn't sure he wants to die, but this isn't so bad. He can't
even feel pain anymore. Maybe he'll see them again, mum and dad and everyone
else who he can recall by face or name, everyone he's failed, let down,
forgotten —
===============================================================================
  — stop, says a friendly little voice in his head, you can't die just yet —
===============================================================================
Eren blinks.
Why not?
===============================================================================
— because, like he's being stupid on purpose, there are things you need to see
 people to protect to live and breath and fight for, you're not done, you need
 to survive — you have to live for them live for yourself you have to get over
             the walls, there are questions you haven't answered —
===============================================================================
Does it matter? Eren thinks, uninterested. I'm going to die someday.
===============================================================================
— coward,sneers the voice,do you want to die that badly? think of your parents,
  your friends — why won't you live for their sake? or are you afraid of what
                       they will say when they see you —
===============================================================================
They can't, he thinks desperately, I can't let them see me like this, please
let me die, I want to die I want this to end God let it end why are you keeping
me alive there's nothing left for me —
===============================================================================
           — what little faith you have for the ones that love you —
===============================================================================
Titans will take him apart, soon. A heavy, black sickness engulfs him from all
sides.
===============================================================================
                 — you must have SOMETHING else to live for —
===============================================================================
A new rumbling fills his ears. Sight and sound, everything is blurring into
nonsense.
===============================================================================
       — or are you throwing it all away for the sake of your captors? —
===============================================================================
                             He's nearing the end.
===============================================================================
                           (Maybe it won't be okay.)
===============================================================================
            The flutter of a pulse, his eyes are lidded and heavy.
===============================================================================
                     (Better off knowing than not at all.)
===============================================================================
                              He opens his eyes.
===============================================================================
Another burst of light and heat — the Titans drop him and he's risen from the
corpse, reborn, naked and bloody and whole, a god in the body of a boy — and
the boy, he smiles, because it's not over, but he isn't going to be lost, he is
free —
— steam filling his lungs, and the rumble turns into a roar like the earth
splitting open, and they come for him, they take him up into their arms crying
his name cursing the enemy, cursing the titans, horses and soldiers circling
the corpse at his knees, and he lets himself be cut away by blades, dragged
from hell up up up into the beautiful light — finally at peace.
End Notes
     a/n: This was actually rather painful to write and then read over
     again. Worse than Entwirren an den Nahten. Holy shit.
     But let me put the above fic aside for a moment and mention that this
     project wasn't birthed from spite, or ill-will towards any of the
     characters; as a matter of fact, I really like Reiner's character!
     He's like a big brother to the cadets one moment, helping Connie
     escape to his hometown or trying to have an honest, albeit damning,
     conversation with Eren on the true nature of his mission with
     Bertholdt. But then he'll remember his actual purpose as a Warrior,
     and show himself to be an asshole when tensions are running high,
     venting his frustration towards Annie and Bertholdt more than once,
     even expressing bewilderment at the actions and mannerisms of his
     fellow cadets when in the company of his family and fellow Warriors,
     circa chapter 94.
     tl;dr - Reiner's complex. I really don't want this to be the last
     story I write featuring him predominantly. And as always, your
     feedback is highly appreciated!
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