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nttmanga · 5 months ago

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Every Day Like the Last: Chapter V

Summary:

A year has passed since the Battle of Heaven and Earth. P. Galliard and P. Finger are married. Vice Captain A. Leonhardt steps down, waiting for her ailing father to outlive her. Eren Jaeger is exiled from Paradis as a renegade to spend his days in Liberio as an expat. Without the threat of Titans or a country to divide them, what comes after the armistice?

Rating: M

Pairing: Annie/Eren, Pieck/Porco

Genre: Drama | Hurt/Comfort | Romance

Can also be read on ao3 | ffnet

a/n: ft. commissioned art by lunarcallisto! thank you for helping to make my wildest dreams come true :)

Ironically, putting in a notice of leave was easier than getting his papers sorted out. "A week’s leave should be no trouble at all. We've got someone to cover for you in the meantime." The superior even shook his hand and congratulated him on the engagement.

The main had never looked so beautiful or cold. Sunlight beamed against the polished floors, the glare blinding as he passed. The occasional pair of eyes followed him. A grinning man who Eren recognized as one of the camp-de-aides nudged his unhappy colleague who shoved a ten mark note into his waiting palm. "Must be one of the Warriors. He’s close enough to one and who else would be interested?"

“There’s one who isn’t taken.”

"Leonhardt? My God, she's inhuman. He’s probably found another Eldian."

Amused, Eren saw no reason to correct them.

He walked out into the warm sunshine and a future bright and impermanent.

This vestige of civilian life, always denied in words, finally within reach. As a boy he’d clamored for what was beyond the Walls, never caring whether or not it existed for the possibility itself was more tantalizing than the truth. If he’d survived, not as a Titan but a civilian, his options were to start a family or climb the political ladder and send money back to his aging parents while less fortunate soldiers died for the same platitudes that had once preoccupied him. Better to give one's life for a cause than squander it in safety. He’d sworn with a child’s conviction to eradicate all the Titans, but it was never about one enemy. The ocean just another obstacle beyond himself and the intangible forces wishing for Paradis's destruction, an end to the mistake immortalized in history books.

In Marley, he clung to the last vestiges of sanity, grounding himself in this day-to-day routine of survival without an outlet. In every outcome the Progenitor laid before him, there was only one in which Paradis survived untouched. Very little of what Eren had been shown in these flashes had come to pass in the way he’d foreseen. Poisoned by his resolve, he had never stopped to question what was in front of him. His survival was not imperative, for his allies would never forgive him once he succeeded, which made his situation all the more damnable. From the moment he woke up to stitches in his neck, Mikasa and the Corporal carving him from the Titan’s blistering remnants, he’d already failed. Exile was worse than death itself. Without the Jaegerists or his inherited abilities, he was barely a threat. Just a fool who’d wielded power beyond his understanding or capacity.

Despite ample time and opportunity, Marley and Paradis seemed disinterested in continuing the war he had initiated. As a matter of fact, there was talk of Paradis sending their ambassadors over directly to Central Marley—survivors from the Battle of Heaven and Earth.

On a day such as this, Eren had no desire to dwell upon the past despite its habitual ease. He’d been invited to meet the other Warriors in person. The letter in his pocket, written by Pieck, provided the name of a street within walking distance.

Echelons of Marley's second class were still packed into rows upon rows. The domiciles in Shiganshina had been built horizontally, a consequence both of the island’s elevation as well as limited materials and technology, and yet Eren had nicer memories of living in a two story home with his mother and father and Mikasa than his limited existence within Liberio’s tenements. He passed the street once, then took the letter from his pocket to verify his placement, then rounded the street again.

"Hey," the man called. "You've rounded this corner a couple times, are you lost?" The man from the pub had a cigarette. Eren walked up the steps.

They moved into the entrance hall and left their shoes by the door. Eren noted a boy's pair of brogans and a girl's boots. He could smell something cooking. The closest to home he'd been since ten years old.

"The kids just got back from running an errand with Ms. Braun."

A dark-haired girl came over from the kitchen and blenched at the sight of Eren. "Mr. Jaeger," she said, with a slight flinch before offering a hand, "I'm Gabrielle Braun."

Aside from using her as bait, Eren supposed they never had been formally introduced. Falco followed in her wake, already a little tense. The formality was part of the charade. A muscle jumped in Falco's jaw. "How long have you been living in Marley?"

"Almost a year."

"Ms. Braun said you'll be going abroad for a while."

"Marley's a big country. We'll find a place to go."

Gabi said, "Miss Leonhardt must mean a lot to you." The unspoken tension that hadn't been settled since his betrayal under the tenements. A perpetual lifelong undercurrent, questions better left unturned. The war was settled and there wasn't any point in discussion. "I don't think she's ever been friendly to another Warrior."

"I know what you mean. I used to train with her."

Falco and Gabi exchanged a glance. "Isn't she supposed to be here?"

"Annie will be here shortly. She stopped in to speak with her father this morning." Pieck noticed them and smiled. "Oh, hello again."

She bade Eren follow her into the living room while Falco and Gabi watched over the food. Pieck was telling him about the news that was coming out. Representatives from what was left of the Titan Research Society, herself among them, had come to consensus. Beyond doubt, the severing of the Progenitor’s direct ties was not simply a victory for humanity. “Many of the injected Eldians and surviving Warriors are expected to live past their designated term of service, potentially up to half of their natural lifespan given proper treatment.”

“How many of these candidates are going to receive treatment?”

“As many as our medical facilities can safely hold. Unfortunately, the brunt of that expertise was entrusted to the Titan Research Society which has since been fragmented. We’ve been tracking down the doctors and convincing them to pass along what they know, but it’s hardly straightforward. I expect we won’t see the results of this endeavor within our own lifetimes.”

Of course. They’d always be Eldians, even without the devil in their bloodstream or a reason to wage war. For what purpose had they accepted him and their failed subjects of Ymir, if not to write them neatly out of history within the next generation? He’d simply have to live with it, like every other disaffected citizen caught between their learnt contempt and their own powerlessness. Self-loathing was not a trait reserved for Eldians alone.

So really, what good was there in hoping to cross paths with anyone from Paradis? They’d just as well abhor him for what he attempted. They’d lacked the will to carry through.

He’d break the news to Annie if she didn’t first. There would be plenty of time to discuss the future.

“There should be a letter for you.” Pieck sighed. “I’m sorry. It must be in the guest room upstairs. I’d have brought it down with me, but I didn’t want Falco or Gabi asking too many questions.”

Eren, left to his own devices, looked around the home for a sign of recent life. He found a door ajar, perhaps a guest room. The bed along the wall was freshly made, and a wooden chest at the foot. Scores along the wood flooring that had once bore furniture. The curtains clean. No recent sign of activity. Atop the dresser's surface was a small figurine and a faded yellow armband. Stitched under the Marleyan star, he could make out the name: R. Braun.

The floorboards creaked. Eren turned with a start. An older woman with blonde hair stood by the threshold.

"I'm sorry," he started to say, "I was looking for the guest room."

The woman's expression faltered, as if he'd spoken in a foreign language. An instinctual glance at his forearm before returning to his face. She seemed to collect herself as he moved past her, closing the door in his wake.

"I was in the middle of cleaning when the children dragged me off on an errand. Gabi’s been helping with the cooking." Her eyes, amber, fell on his hand. In a strange, brusque tone, she said, "You must be Eren."

“Ms. Braun?”

Her expression cooled. “Is there something you were looking for in particular?”

Standing before the mother of that soldier-turned-traitor, the last four years weighed heavy between them. Both of them strangers, sharing nothing but their devil blood and contempt for the enemy be it Marleyan or Titan. Eren's ties were severed. Reiner never spoke of his family back home. A hometown, once or twice, only with Bertholdt close by. Never a name. All that had mattered back then was supplanting his grief into anger. A justification, however childish, was easier to accept than the bigger picture. He'd had time to think things over but never to apologize.

He said, "I knew your son." Karina froze where she stood. "He was the second best of the cadet corps. He would have made you proud."

Her face contorted. She grasped his arm. “Then—you must have seen him. Please, you must tell me what happened to him. This is all I have left of him.”

“He’s dead.” Eren held her gaze until it averted. “He sacrificed himself to protect his comrades. There wasn’t much left to bury.”

Karina let her hand drop. She covered her mouth, her eyes welling. She wasn't hurtling insults at him. Perhaps that would come later. Eren longed for a drink.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

She looked away, her voice tight and controlled from a lifetime of smothering her grief into apathy. “There’s a letter for you. In the other room.”

Eren followed her. On the desk was a manilla envelope which he scanned and pocketed to read away from prying eyes. As he moved away, he could see Karina through the slit of the door. He moved onwards.

"There's no council to disappoint," Galliard was saying, "and two more Eldians who've outlasted their regime. Why shouldn't we celebrate?" On the porch, Galliard hid his feelings under a terse, short conversation about what Gabi and Falco would be enrolling next year. He smiled around the unlit cigarette. Eren did not smile back. "Well," he said, "best of luck to you."

On the train out of Liberio, onward. Annie eyed the other seats for wont of something to do.

"Who d'you usually send after defectors?"

"They're brought in and dealt with like any other political criminal." She glanced out the window, but there was not much to see apart from Liberio's architecture. "That was back when I was in training. But they're not interested in us. And I doubt you'll attract any attention unless you do something foolish."

His brow furrowed as he seemed to work over the words in his head. Then he sat back straighter as if to make up for the weariness of his eyes.

"Did you sleep?"

"I haven't been sleeping much."

Annie frowned.

Eren bristled but didn't answer. What should she do? Take his hand? Say something reassuring? What did one say to their fiancé who still woke up miles across the ocean, at home?

"It's all right," she said, "I'll be here when you wake up."

He nodded off. Leaning on her, their arms interlocked. She reached for his hand, catching his wrist. Annie laid her head against his shoulder. Her heart fluttered.

They rode on through Marley into the heart of the country. Liberio’s cramped and opulent sprawl giving way to an untouched wilderness broken up by settlements and outposts. The sky unbroken and clear.

They stopped at a small hotel for the evening, the settlement reminiscent to what Eren had left in Paradis. They used gas lamps and crystal torches in tandem.

A short man eyed them from behind the reception. He came over and greeted them warmly. “Halil!” the man called. A boy about Falco’s age came out with a broom. This he set against the wall as the man spoke to him in a tongue Eren had heard during his days in Fort Slava.

“We don’t get many tourists,” the man said. “When I was a boy, there were a lot more of them. During the course of the war they moved on from here.”

The boy offered to take their valaise and bags. Eren nodded at the boy and then looked away.

Halil clambered up the steps. He set their bags aside and said, “I’ve seen you before.”

Eren froze.

“Miss? My father says you helped stop the war on Paradis.”

Annie blinked. “Yes.”

Halil was beaming. “I knew it! Ramzi won’t believe it.” He noticed Eren and his expression changed. “Thank you, sir.” He didn’t speak again but nodded to Annie and left.

Neither their annihilation not existence held any significance to him, apart from failure. The images repeating, always the same no matter how he bent his will. Without the constant threat of war and annihilation on the horizon, the idea of enduring one slow day to the next became suffocating. Standing at the window he could see only the settlement and the flat plain beyond.

It wasn’t yet evening.

“Eren?”

His breath stuck in his throat. A flicker in her eyes. She could sense the pain but not its reason. He didn’t want to permit that sepulchral mood into this moment. Least of all to his wife. Strange to permit himself this distinction and yet effortless to accept it. From comrade to enemy to spouse.

The Founder’s will pushed him into a singularity — the dead and the dying along the shores. Ruins all that were left of this civilization would be washed away.

He moved outside in the hall and paced like an animal down the length and back. He counted to fifty, but he couldn't stop trembling completely as he opened the door.

He sat on the bed and she went along, side by side.

"What happened?"

He looked at her, struggling to explain. "I haven't been here in a while."

She hesitated. "We can stay in."

He breathed evenly. She was only trying to help and he'd made it complicated. He had no interest in explaining right now, it wouldn't fix anything. She laid a hand along his neck and he reached to caress her hand. Delicate and vulnerable. He felt a terrific surge of affection for her. One of the toughest soldiers he’d ever known. Perhaps he didn’t deserve her, yet she refused to let him go.

“What is it?”

He touched her face. “You’re beautiful.” Smoothing his palms down her sides. His lips on her brow. His mouth curled, an unfamiliar sensation. “I can’t believe it.”

Her eyes softened. They fell onto the bed, chuckling.

He was too weary to speak. When he laid his head along her thighs, she didn’t push him away. Her hand slowly passed through his hair.

He dozed. When he stirred, the pattern of shadows over the room had altered. She stirred.

��Did I wake you?”

Like before he was too keyed up to relax. He reached up to caress her face.

“No.”

Annie kissed the inside of his wrist. His cheek moved to her abdomen. He kissed her clothed stomach. Hands slipping under the dress.

“How many?”

Annie hummed.

“Children.” He rucked the dress over her thighs. “How many would you want?”

She was looking at him in a naked and nervous way. Her mouth opened and closed. When she finally spoke her voice was small, “I’m not sure.”

Eren was relieved and disappointed in equal measure. But then, if he’d lost his mother that way he might feel different.

“We can wait.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Annie tensed.

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t.” Eren could glean the edge in her tone. Her mouth trembling at the edges. He let his hand drop. “It would be a year, at least. Maybe more. I can’t promise that, and if something happened to me—”

“—don’t say that—”

“—you’d never forgive it.”

Her eyes bored into him. Eren wasn’t expecting this to be a simple conversation but he’d failed, in his desperation to be free, to consider she was just as pinioned as him to this future and its limitations, not just as civilians or Eldians. Both of them needed time to adjust, but he had no idea how to console her.

“My dad was about the age we are now, when he had his first son. Years after he was injected, he had me. It’s probably not that different for us.” A short, sharp snort of laughter escaped her. “Hey.” Running his hands over her shoulders, forearms. She couldn’t stop trembling. “Hey. Talk to me.”

“Even if I can conceive,” she said, in a soft, high voice he didn’t recognize, “what effect would it have on the baby?”

Eren paused.

“Is it something you’d want, if you were able?” Her expression faltered. Bracing herself for a worse reaction. He felt powerless to assuage her. “I can’t go back to my old life. That much is true.” He took a breath and let it out. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us. But I’m sure that you and I are not our fathers.”

Annie turned, pushing her shoulder into his chest. He pulled her into a hug. With her head to his sternum she began to relax. She didn’t return the embrace but she didn't squirm away.

“It can’t be like it was, for us. This has to be different.”

He swallowed dryly. “It will be different.”

He leaned in and gently kissed her scalp, and she grasped the side of his neck and pressed closer. Without thinking, he kissed her shoulder, working on undoing the buttons of her blouse. She reclined onto the bed and he went with her. His lips brushed her neck, running a hand over her chest. He put his mouth to her ear. "Don't get up. I'll take care of you."

She leaned back, curious rather than pliant. His hand swept up her calf to thigh and his stomach tensed at her state of arousal. He rucked the skirts up, falling in a heap about her midriff. Improprietous and beautiful and urgent. Her mouth lifted into a wan smile. Relief and desire and fear, all resolving into the same intention. He knelt down and unfastened the garters and slid them down her legs.

He shrugged out of the suit jacket and hung it up in the closet.

She'd drawn her legs up to her chest. Her hair cascading like gold across the sheets.

"Take me like this," she whispered.

He was already hard and so he pressed into her. Annie bit her lip, brow furrowing. The angle was a little tight but she didn't appear to be in any discomfort. The skirts pooled between their bodies. He should have taken his shirt off first. She placed small kisses on his jaw, mouth, and cheeks, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Pulling out until just the head was inside of her and thrusting. Annie made a soft noise. Her eyes blue and lustful and a bit distracted. He leaned down and kissed along her lips to her neck. He braced a palm under her spine, keeping pace. Tension gathered behind his navel. Rather than struggle against the inevitable, he concentrated on pleasuring her. Mouthing the ridge of her clavicle, the swell of her breast popped out of her blouse and she gasped. Her fingers tangled in his hair, restless and urgent.

He sat up and lifted one leg under the ankle, fitting it over his shoulder.

The skirts fell back into her face. He uncovered her, gathering the fabric against her belly. She let her head fall back against the pillow with a snort. "I feel like a barmaid."

The idea clicked in his head and he sucked in a breath. Annie chuckled low in her throat. He could feel that too, in the rise and fall of her ribs and her muscles fluttering around him.

"Oh—is that what you like?" she whispered. "I can—wear this if you."

He pressed his forehead to hers. She got a hand on his nape, the other already snaking down her front until the skirts got in the way.

Amused, Eren simply bunched it up, pushing it aside to thumb the little twitching pulse. Whimpering, she caught his wrist. He glanced at her and she took a deep breath. He relaxed his touch and let her steer, tight, slick little circles. It didn't feel like he was doing much, yet her expression clouded, mouth upturned at the corners. Her eyes falling shut as she began to undulate. The skirts whispered over the bed. She bit her lip as he braced a hand beside her head and began to move.

His mind short-circuiting. He undulated into her before he came to crisis, slumping across her and slowly regaining composure. All in all he was the happiest dead man in Central Marley. Kissing a path to the corner of her mouth and brushing their noses together. Even if he didn't deserve this peace, he desperately wanted to hold on to it. Memories and a life beyond this vestige of hell.

"Hey," he said. "Good?"

Annie's mouth curled. "That wasn't particularly hazardous."

Eren frowned. "Hazardous?"

She sat up. "The position. For my delicate constitution."

"I've never heard of such a thing." He frowned. "Are you OK?"

She nodded. "I never imagined this happening to me."

Eren understood all too well. The setting sun on her hair and lashes, the first time they'd truly been free. "You don't have to imagine anymore."

She looked at him in a way she rarely had. Pity for an ant under her boot, or simply endeared. She kissed him on the cheek. She brushed his hands away and stood. Hanging up her clothes in the small closet. She moved over to him, radiant in the light, warm and a little surer.

"Perhaps we could try some more, just to be safe."

He shed the rest of his clothes, joining her.

They got to know each other's bodies. It was different from the desperate rendezvous in Liberio or their fooling around before. No inevitable deployment to the front lines, where they'd be fighting to the death in an unwinnable circumstance.

He stayed with her until her breathing calmed. Then he got up and redressed, leaving her to sleep. He closed the door carefully behind him.

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nttmanga · 5 months ago

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wip wednesday — edltl v, ii

I'm trying to keep the peace between the simpler B plot + romance and political intrugue to avoid narrative imbalance/incongruity. I wish I had drawn out IV a bit and introduced Eren's time in Marley more gradually, but I don't want to throw all my ideas into one fic and then scramble in the nedt one. V will be the start of the juicier conflict. Here's a rough cut as an example:

It wasn't yet afternoon.

Eren looked at her. Delicate and vulnerable. He felt a terrific surge of affection for her. One of the toughest soldiers he'd ever known. Perhaps he didn't deserve her, yet she refused to let him go.

"What?"

He touched her face. "You're beautiful." Smoothing his palms down her sides. His lips on her brow. His mouth curled, an unfamiliar sensation. "I can't believe it."

Her eyes softened. They fell onto the bed, chuckling.

He was too weary to speak. When he laid his head along her thighs, she didn't push him away. Her hand slowly passed through his hair.

He dozed. When he stirred, the pattern of shadows over the room had altered.

She stirred.

"Did I wake you?"

Like before he was too keyed up to relax. He reached up to caress her face.

"No."

Annie kissed the inside of his wrist. His cheek moved to her abdomen. He kissed her clothed stomach. Hands slipping under the dress.

"How many?"

Annie hummed.

"Children." He rucked the dress over her thighs. "How many would you want?"

She was looking at him in that naked and nervous way. Her mouth opened and closed. When she finally spoke her voice was small, "I'm not sure."

Eren was relieved and disappointed in equal measure. But then, if he'd lost his mother that way he might feel different.

"We can wait."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Annie tensed.

"I'm not saying I wouldn't." Eren could glean the edge in her tone. Her mouth trembling at the edges. He let his hand drop. "It would be a year, at least. Maybe more. I can't promise that, and if something happened to me—"

"—don't say that—"

"—you'd never forgive it."

Her eyes bored into him. Unlike her aura of indifference she was easy to read. Eren wasn't expecting this to be a simple conversation but he'd failed, in his desperation to be free, to consider she was just as pinioned as him to this future and its limitations, not just as civilians or Eldians. Both of them needed time to adjust, but he had no idea how to console her.

"My dad was about the age we are now, when he had his first son. Years after he was injected, he had me. It's probably not that different for us." A short, sharp snort of laughter escaped her. "Hey." Running his hands over her shoulders, forearms. She couldn't stop trembling. "Hey. Talk to me."

"Even if I can conceive," she said, in a soft, high voice he didn't recognize, "what effect would it have on the baby?"

Eren paused.

"Is it something you'd want, if you were able?" Her expression faltered. Bracing herself for a worse reaction. He felt powerless to assuage her. "I can't go back to my old life. That much is true." He took a breath and let it out. "I don't know what's going to happen to us. But I'm sure that you and I are not our fathers."

Annie turned, pushing her shoulder into his chest. He pulled her into a hug. With her head to his sternum she began to relax. She didn't return the embrace.

"It can't be like it was, for us. This has to be different."

He swallowed dryly. "It will be different."

Her mouth lifted into a wan smile. Relief and desire and fear, all resolving into the same intention. He leaned in and gently kissed her scalp, and she grasped the side of his neck and pressed closer.

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nttmanga · 5 months ago

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Happy birthday Eren (early) and Annie (late)!!!

They will always be my otp ❤️❤️❤️

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nttmanga · 5 months ago

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Oh ereannie , how I miss you ❤️❤️❤️

(The poses from the first pic is reference from the book, “Take Me On”.)

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nttmanga · 5 months ago

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emo ereannie strawpage request (3/5/25)

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nttmanga · 5 months ago

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thanks @levihandynasty for bringing this picrew to my attention, I totally had to get in on this. link HERE to make all of your wildest dreams come true

the eyes opening/closing is based loosely off of this official art

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nttmanga · 6 months ago

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wip wednesday — BH&E 05

eren and annie flirt, bicker, and the author's undying love for dramatic irony rears its head again :)

She shrugged out of her jacket. "There's enough room to spar. If you'd still like to."

Aside from the mess on the other half of the room, Annie's side barely looked lived in at all.

Eren hesitated to follow her. "I wouldn't—want you to think of what I did, when you talk to me." The skin on the nape of his neck tingled. "In Trost, I mean. That wasn't who I am."

"Why should it make a difference to you?"

It occurred to Eren that she’d never asked about the nature of his transformation. Of all the cadets he spoke to, she seemed indifferent. But, she was only here to teach him how to fight. And it wasn’t like she had all the answers to what was wrong with him.

"You're not worried at all?" She smiled in a way that touched her eyes. His throat bobbed. "You said," his voice uneven, "that everything before—it wasn't serious."

"It wasn't." Her stance shifted. "I’m not going to wait around for the day you come back in a box."

A repeat of the situation that got them into trouble in the first place. Another misdirection on her part. Was it possible she didn’t have an answer herself? Acting as if she were above him, if she didn’t have the answer—well, she’d never been a very good liar. And he was probably the only person who could tell her so and not get knocked around as hard as usual.

He went for her ankle. Out of practise, really he was thinking about her behavior, and sense of humour—the lack of it. Everything was a weapon to her. What that did make this?

In the time he'd come to a conclusion she'd already disarmed him. Rather than tell him off for not taking this seriously she had him pinned, his chest to the floor.

Her mouth grazed his cheek. The arm around his neck tightened.

"I'm not going to go easier on you," she breathed. "You've been distracted since I offered to see you. It's going to get you killed," her mouth grazed his cheek, "unless you're sure of what you're willing to do."

Eren continued to thrash, helpless. She chuckled lowly. If she canted her hips back she'd be astride him. She wasn’t looking to be understood and he wasn’t going to ask questions

Her fingers skirting over the straps of his ODM harness, slipped under his shirt, catching on the key at his breast. He reached out to grab her wrist, and she stiffened, eyes widening. Close enough to feel her uneven breaths on his face. He let go, his shoulders hunched slightly as she got back to her feet.

"It's a—keepsake. From my father." She wasn't saying anything. Her eyes darted from his chest to his face, searching. He sat up, cleared his throat. "Sorry, I—I should take it off."

The doorknob turned. Annie squared her shoulders. "Oi, Leonhardt, Feulner wants to know if—oh, damn." The girl cocked her head, motioning towards Eren. " He's your boyfriend? I thought you were just being a wiseass."

"Dreyse," Annie said through her teeth.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll just say you're busy." She turned around, catching Eren's eye and skillfully dodging the pillow aimed at her head on the way out. A floral scent permeated the air.

"My roommate," Annie said.

"Does she wear a lot of perfume or something?"

Annie ignored his question, pulling her jacket back on. "You should go. Before you're missed."

Eren snorted. "Since when did you start caring about protocol?"

She looked at him the way she had Dreyse.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like—you never asked when I had to leave, so." Staring at the wall. He glanced at her and then away. "D'you" —he gesticulated towards her— "aren't you hot?"

"Not really."

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nttmanga · 6 months ago

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Everlong — Pilot

Summary: Eren begins a tumultuous relationship with an ex-kickboxer who is determined to remain impersonal.

Rating: M

Genre: Romance/Drama

a/n: The first chapter — and something of a pilot episode — for what will likely be my final AoT fic. I've never written a modern AU before but I'll do my best to keep everyone on-brand. :)

It starts the night Armin and Mikasa drag him away to a party. Eren agrees, but he's really only there for the free alcohol. He hangs back at the bonfire next to Connie who just wants someone to drink with. Eren listens, mostly. In the distance someone's blasting Deftones.

Connie grabs his arm. "Hey, look who it is!"

It's impossible not to notice. People on the fringes wave and she nods to them. Her attention turns toward Connie and she begins makes her way towards him.

Connie says, "I'm gonna go get a refill. You want one?"

Eren says, "Yeah."

Connie snorts and disappears.

Annie steps into place.

"Jaeger," she says. "It's been a while."

She's got a few more piercings along her left eyebrow, her nose slightly crooked like it's been snapped back into place a few times. She's wearing a pleated skirt and black tights, a simple white blouse that buttons up to her throat. An evolution on her old look, while he still sticks to jeans and a t-shirt.

He says, "I didn't expect you to be here."

"My cousin Reiner wanted to visit." She shrugs. "He and Bertholdt missed talking to you guys, I guess.

"Are they around?"

"They're probably getting drunk and getting into trouble. But I'll tell Reiner you said hi.

Her expression is difficult to read. Maybe that's as close to an answer as she's willing to broach, she's always been pretty quiet.

She asks if he'd like to catch up instead of waste a can of beer he obviously isn't going to drink. He tells her the legal drinking age in America is twenty one but it hasn't stopped him before, and she just smiles enigmatically. Then he says, "We could go back to my place."

"Won't you be missed?"

Eren shrugs. "I'm tagging along. They'll figure it out pretty quick."

Annie says, "All right. Did you drive?"

"Walked."

Annie says, "Cool."

They walk down the front yard and towards the sidewalk. Their surroundings give way to a suburban sprawl. It's summer. The alcohol is mostly out of his system by now but Eren's head is buzzing.

"Where do you live?" she asks.

He tells her he's living in a duplex. He moves up the stairs as she follows and produces a key. He shuts the door and clicks the lock. Annie removes her leather jacket and he shows her the closet. It's warm enough up here to be uncomfortable.

Annie takes a seat on the sofa. The last time Eren saw her at length, they were juniors in high school and she mostly let him talk at her about homeroom and schoolwork and Ms. Hanji's weird obssession with taxidermy. He can count on one hand the amount of times they've held a two-way conversation.

There's nothing he can say to her that's too lame, so he settles on, "How've you been?"

She shrugs. "I'm still alive. Living with my cousin at the moment. How are you?"

There's not much to say. "Working. Trying to save up money, mostly."

She nods. "That's smart. I think I might take an internship this summer so Reiner doesn't worry as much."

"I thought you were enlisted?"

She frowns. "Didn't work out."

"Damn," he says, "I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "How's your aunt?"

"She's okay. I think she's trying to get back into the dating scene."

Annie looks at her nails. "Online?"

Eren scoffs. "In person. She doesn't know a lot about computers. I had to explain catfishing to her the other day."

Her mouth turns up. He feels warm all of a sudden, like he could stand here and talk to her all evening. In the span of three years, not much has changed. It's nice to see her again even if she remains an enigma.

"Can I get you anything?"

"I'm all right, thanks."

He checks the heater. It's off. It's stuffy in the room, though.

She exhales, crossing and uncrossing her legs. The silence holds as she makes up her mind about something. "Do you want to have sex?"

His breath catches in his throat. He turns and looks at her. "Wh—right now?"

"Yeah," she says in a terse voice. "Or we could meet somewhere else at 01:00 hours, whatever works."

Eren takes a moment to process the situation. She'd never so much as looked his way in high school. He has long since contented himself that she wasn't interested in anybody, let alone someone as milquetoast as him. He swallows dryly. "I don't—when did this start?"

Her mouth curls but it doesn't quite meet her eyes. "I've had a crush on you for a while."

Old memories resurface. Every time she'd asked to study with him, even though she never seemed that interested in anything but her guitar and kickboxing and smoking behind the school with the super seniors. She wasn't above teasing but she'd long since trained him not to let his guard down.

Her ambivalence plagued him into suffering in ignorance until Armin suggested, the year after graduation, that perhaps Annie might've had an alternative motive all along, and Eren's never let himself live it down since.

"Oh," he says.

She shrugs. "You're still pretty cute."

He huffs, not sure how to take that but not offended, either. "Thanks."

She slips off her combat boots. Without the jacket covering her, it's obvious she's not wearing a bra. "You haven't answered my question."

Eren exhales and glances at the door to check that it's locked. "Are you sure?"

When he turns back to her she looks hurt. "Yes."

He's already kicking himself. She holds his gaze, a mirror to his internal conflict. Vulnerable in a way he's never really considered before. He shoves his hands in his pockets while he scrambles for a way to unfuck this opportunity. "I just thought—I dunno. You were out of my league. Or just jerking me around."

She frowns. "Are we having sex or arguing about how oblivious you are?"

He chuckles, at ease. "Both, I guess."

The tension thickens.

"It's been a while for me," she admits. "You're making me nervous."

"You don't have to be nervous," he says.

Her expression softens, just a little. Sweat prickles on his nape as he walks over to her, a surreal waking dream that's finally come to fruition or something equally implausable. As he sits next to her on the couch, she cups the back of his neck before she presses her lips to his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Their noses brush. She smells like vanilla. Her breaths rebound against his face.

Eren kisses her slowly.

His hands cover her neck briefly before sliding down to her shoulders to breasts to the dip of her waist, a contrast of strength and pliability that excites his senses.

As he kisses down her neck, he's working on the buttons of her blouse until she bats him away and takes it off. Gooseflesh spreads over her pale skin. Her nipples are pink, pierced.

"Damn," he breathes. "How long have you had these?"

"About a year."

"That must've hurt like hell."

"It wasn't bad. They took a while to heal." Eren forgets how to speak and takes her in for a moment. In the back of his mind everything his stepsister has tried to drill into his head about piercings and hygine, but he only half-remembers. Annie is looking at him intently.

"Aren't they sensitive?" he mutters.

A flush gathers on her hairline. "It doesn't hurt to be touched." She licks the pad of her thumb and circles over her nipple as it stiffens. "See?

His mouth dries.

"Yeah, I see."

She stops what she's doing and begins stroking his neck, restless. Her voice lowers, "Are you going to stare all night?"

Eren bends to flick his tongue against the areola and her lips part on a gasp. "Do you like that?" he says huskily.

Her grip on his neck flexes. "Yes."

The admission piques his interest. He kisses her sternum, cupping then other breast and feeling the supple weight under his fingers. On impulse he licks his thumb and circles the nipple, kissing her breast as she begins to pant, groaning his surname like an imploration. He sinks his fingers into the soft flesh, kneading.

She winces and grabs his wrist. "Not so hard.

"Sorry." He begins to kiss a path up her collarbone to the column of her throat, curve of her chin. He kisses her eyebrow. "Are you gonna get any more of these?"

"Do you always talk this much during foreplay?"

He laughs. She pulls him down to kiss, bites his bottom lip. He licks at her teeth, not caring whether he leads or is led and so it ends like every other half-fevered grapple, with her in control. She stops to suck a bruise into his jugular. He grunts but makes no attempt to stop her. Her teeth sink into his skin and he gasps, pushing her back by the shoulders.

"Is that too much?" she mutters.

Eren stops and takes his shirt off. He unzips his fly, adjusting himself in his boxers. He's discovering a lot about himself tonight.

Annie sits up too. "Oh. I could help you with that."

The words take a breath or two to register. Eren takes her by the chin. His thumb presses against her lips. She bites the pad before flicking her tongue over the mark and it shouldn't make him as hard as it does. He'd be lying if he's never thought about this.

She skims a palm over his naked chest, down his stomach to the wiry thatch of pubic hair bordering his waistband. Her nails dig into his thighs like she's checking for weak spots and he bites his lip.

She gets off the couch and goes to her knees, her breath warming the tent in his boxers. She takes him out, darts her tongue over the head and he gasps like she's hurting him. A part of him still can't believe this is actually happening but there's no way he's about to interrupt her.

She handles him a little more brusquely than he would himself. At the base, her thumb and index finger don't touch. She runs her tongue along the shaft, and briefly cups his balls before pulling away to size up his erection. She wraps her lips around him, pushing until he hits the back of her throat and she gags softly. He grabs her shoulder. Annie doesn't seem as concerned. She pulls off with a wet pop, taking a breath. His cock weeps. She says, "You're going to make a mess." She licks the bead of precome and pumps slower, pressing the pad of her thumb to the head until he's craning his neck and groaning.

There's a flush along her hairline and he can feel himself getting hotter. Tension behind his navel.

"Fuck," he grits out, "please."

She barely glances up. "I'm giving you enough." She's kissing along his hipbone to his navel. She tenses her grip, but doesn't go any faster. He cups her face with a trembling hand. She turns to kiss the inside of his wrist. "You're big." Her voice is nonchalant even as she's jacking him off steadily. He makes a strangled noise. "I don't think I can take all of this, as much as I'd like to."

Eren sucks in a breath and grabs her by the nape. He's going to lose it if she doesn't stop saying this shit and it's not the first impression he wants to make

Rather than stumble over words he steers her without elaboration. She laughs quietly and engulfs him, keeping one hand firm around the base. She's picking up speed. His hips stammer and he releases. She grunts, swallowing thickly as he goes limp. She pulls off and gets to her feet. Wiping her mouth, she says, "So, was it good for you?"

Eren stares at her, dumbstruck. Aside from the flush, she's back to her stoic self. She isn't smiling but her eyes light up

"Yeah," he says. "Fuck, you're really good at that."

She collects her shirt from the floor and says, "Do you have a bathroom?"

He tucks himself back into his pants. "Uh—yeah. It's on the left."

"I'll be back in a second."

The door opens. He can hear the sink running. She spits. Then comes back into view.

"I didn't think you'd want to kiss me after that," she says, then straddles him. In between making out he helps her out of her clothes. Annie assists in little ways, unbuttoning the dress, rolling down her pantihose and stepping out. Once she's naked, she straddles him again and he can feel her bare and eager against his thigh. He slides a palm down her toned stomach.

"Oh," he groans, "Jesus you're wet."

Annie laughs softly. "You've been distracting me a lot this evening."

He's not quite ready for another round, but he's got an idea. He coaxes her to sit on the sofa.

"Stay there," he mutters, going to his knees, smoothing her thighs.

Annie makes a low sound in her throat. Her legs fall open.

He kisses her inner thigh, pressing his head slowly into her lap. She threads her fingers into his hair. Her breathing deepens, the muscles in her body tensing as he loses himself in the taste of her, salt and sweat and nothing. In a way, he figures, giving head is a lot more intimate than sex alone. There's no logical purpose to it but the proximity and pleasure.

She's trembling, her deep breaths finally giving way to a drawn-out moan. The tension in her body releases in a gentle rush, leaving her limp and quivering.

He pulls away. She's still out of breath when he stands. "Are you okay? I wasn't too rough?"

She looks at him like he's crazy. Pushing herself up, she hedges, "Did you still want to have sex?" He groans. He's been hard for a while. She smirks and then says, very seriously, "I really want you inside me."

He inhales. "Fuck, I wasn't really expecting this."

She seems to catch on. She reaches for her bag and takes something small and presses it to his chest. "I've only got one of these, so make it count."

Eren fails to catch it. The packet drops harmlessly to the couch and he retrieves it. He rolls on the condom, watching the little blonde hairs on her arms stand up.

"Are you comfortable?"

She nods. Reposing herself lengthwise on the sofa, she's short enough to fit between the armrests. She pulls her legs up to make room for him and he takes himself in hand.

He teases his length along her clit before slowly pressing inside. She groans and wraps her legs around him. He sinks to the hilt and takes a deep breath as she gets used to his size.

Her blue eyes shimmer in the light. A deliberation in her touch as her thumbs trace over his eyelids and cheeks, settling on the nape of his neck. Her hair is coming loose from its tie. He kisses the tip of her nose and she rankles. Eren grins, he's always wanted to do that. He kisses her on the mouth, rocking his hips.

The couch squeaks. Sweat gathers between their bodies, on his hairline, along his spine.

She begins to pant, arching until her hips are off the couch and his palm is cradling the small of her back. Each time he thrusts into her he's pressing against her walls in a different way. He's cogent enough to guess that she knows what she's doing, and keeps thrusting until he brushes a spot that makes her gasp and grip his nape tightly.

"Do you like that?" he whispers against her lips.

"Yeah." He thrusts once more to be sure and she moans, kissing his mouth. "Yes, Eren."

He falls into rhythm like they've been doing this for years. Her eyes flutter and close but he keeps his open. Her brow knits as her body winds taut, guiding them to an inevitable crux. Her nails dig into his nape and he grunts, thrusts turning fast and shallow as she begins to lose composure. Her voice ebbs into hiccupy little gasps and whimpers that drive him crazy. He slows down just enough to deepen the pace and keep himself in control.

He sits upright as she lets her arm drop and splays his hand against her taut stomach. She's thrown an arm over her face but he can still see the tremble of her mouth.

He lowers himself across her until his stomach meets the little jumping pulse of her and she whimpers, clenching erratically. He shuts his eyes but the sight is already burned into his memory.

He's losing rhythm. Time falls away. There's a vague awareness of warmth, spurting over his thighs and hips in time with her panicked gasps, and then he finishes, burying his face the curve of her shoulder as he catches his breath. Her arm wraps around his neck and he feels her fingers stroking his hair. He pulls back to look at her. He's never seen her so red.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," he echoes, kissing the curve of her chin, her pliant mouth. "I wasn't too rough? You're okay?"

She grins and pulls him down, touching his forehead to hers. "You're so cute. Just stay here a minute."

Eren does so.

She relaxes her thighs around his waist and he pulls out, disposing of the condom. There's a stain against the fabric.

"Shit," he mutters. "What did you—?"

It clicks. She averts her eyes first.

Eren wets his lips. "Damn. I guess next time we'll take the bed."

She watches him grab a can of baking soda from under the kitchen sink. He fills a bowl with warm water.

"Sorry," she says. "I got carried away."

Eren pauses. He doesn't get why she's so flustered. Caught off guard, sure, but it was very hot. Then again it's not her house.

"No need to apologize."

He wipes the spot down. It'll take fifteen minutes for the mixture to set in. His tone seems to ease her nerves somewhat.

"Can I use your shower?"

"Yeah," he calls. "I'll join you in a bit."

A few moments later they're sharing the tiny stall.

The stream pelts his chest. Her sclera gleam under the yellow flickering light, the set of piercings against her brow glinting softly. With her hair down this feels a bit more intimate.

"You had a crush on me?" she says.

Eren shrugs, unsure how to concede. "I was seventeen. I didn't know what to do about it."

He rinses off. They trade places. The air heavy with steam and a sense of familiarity.

"I've got a high pain tolerance," he says. "I might get a few tattoos. My sister keeps telling me not to but she's going to school for it."

"A tattoo of what?"

He admits he isn't sure. The water cuts off. He dries off. She grabs another towel and wraps it around her body at the armpits

She says, "Can I stay with you tonight? I really don't mean to impose."

Eren finds her very endearing. "You're not imposing."

He throws some clothes on and goes to check on the state of the sofa. He wipes it with a damp cloth. It doesn't smell right but it looks better than it did.

"You don't have a bed?"

Eren startles. "I—yeah, of course I have a bed."

He ushers her to follow. His room is pretty clean but he feels like she's scrutinizing. It's difficult to say where her head is at.

He sleeps in his shorts. He cuts the lights but keeps the window cracked.

She waits for him to lie down before dropping the towel. She lays beside him on her back, her hair slightly damp.

There's a vulnerability between them. An unravelling of each other's defenses. The woman beneath the façade, finally visible.

She whispers, "I've wanted this for a while."

He strokes her cheek and she closes her eyes, leaning into his touch. "I wanted this too," he says, unsure how to assure her, but sensing her need to be comforted. "You don't have to worry anymore."

She turns and mumbles something else but he can't make out the words. In a while her breathing evens out.

He falls into dreamless sleep and regains consciousness in an instantaneous moment.

His eyes are closed. When he opens them he's in his apartment. Half of the bed is empty and he can see an impression in the sheets and on the pillowcase. There's no warmth.

He sits up. The clock reads 07:22.

He hears movement in the kitchen. Zeke's the only person who has a key to the apartment. Eren gets dressed and moves for the bathroom.

Annie's still here. She's redressed, but her hair is down.

"Hey," he says.

She does a double take. "Hey."

"How long have you been up?"

She shrugs. "About five? I got hungry. I hope you don't mind."

She's opened the half-carton of eggs. She's also taken some cereal.

"No," he says. "I, um. I didn't think you'd be here." He feels like a terrible host. Or whatever this new facet of understanding between them is going to be. Annie doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm used to waking up early."

He takes a moment to use the bathroom. When he comes back she says, "I had a good time last night. Thank you."

Eren grins. "I still feel like I'm dreaming."

She pinches his waist. He yelps. "See, you're awake."

They eat breakfast in comfortable silence. He asks if she drinks coffee or tea and she rolls her shoulders. "I'll take coffee."

"It's instant."

She says nothing.

He runs the water and waits for it to boil. He says, "I'd like to take you out sometime."

She looks up. "When are you free?

He tears a sticky note from the fridge and scribbles his number. She looks at the note a moment and then takes it, stowing it in her breast pocket. "I'll call you," she says, brushing past him. The smell of her perfume lingers.

A minute later the door unlocks. Zeke steps in. "Wasn't that Annie Leonhardt?"

Eren bites his tongue. "When did you get back?"

"Last night." Zeke pauses. "She's shorter than I thought she'd be."

Eren hesitates. This is less trouble than he had expected, but Zeke usually has an ulterior motive when he's being reasonable. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I was going to have a smoke." He readjusts his glasses. "Your aunt called. She's going to have dinner over at her place."

"Dad's not coming?"

Zeke chuckles around the unlit cigarette. "Nope."

Eren scowls. "Figures."

"So are you going to invite Annie?"

"What?"

Zeke tuts. "Oh, so it's a one night stand."

"We're dating."

Zeke looks at him in a way Eren would rather not think about. "Do you know where she lives?"

"I gave her my number."

Zeke pulls out a lighter.

"Go light up outside," Eren says, "I don't want that shit in here."

Zeke clicks the lighter shut with a sigh. "I wonder if Pieck keeps in touch with her. I could put in a word, if you want an impartial source." He glances at Eren. "They went to the same private school when they were kids. I don't know all the details."

Eren scoffs. "Isn't she half your age?"

"She's twenty four," Zeke says, far more interested in the zippo than anything Eren has to say. He leaves to go smoke, leaving Eren to his own devices.

The door to his bedroom remains ajar. When he opens it, the room is empty. The sheets are still unmade.

Eren stares for a moment, hand on the doorjamb, as though expecting something to change. He bites the inside of his cheek and shuts the door.

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nttmanga · 7 months ago

Text

Commission for @dorminchu.

A future scene from the canon divergence ereannie fanfic, "Every Day Like The Last." 🚂

↪ Kofi Comm Info here ✨

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nttmanga · 7 months ago

Text

Every Day Like The Last: Masterlist

Masterlist will be updated as the story progresses. Art by @addictivities.

CHAPTER I — tumblr | ao3 | ffnet CHAPTER II — tumblr | ao3 | ffnet CHAPTER III — tumblr | ao3 | ffnet

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nttmanga · 8 months ago

Text

Every Day The Last: Masterlist

Masterlist will be updated as the story progresses. Art by @addictivities.

CHAPTER I — tumblr | ao3 | ffnet

43 notes · View notes

nttmanga · 8 months ago

Text

Every Day Like The Last: Chapter I

Summary:

Rating: T

Pairing: Annie/Eren, Pieck/Porco

Genre: Drama | Hurt/Comfort | Romance

a/n: Formerly titled despicable animal. The beginning of my (penultimate) swan song for Attack on Titan. Big shoutout to @vaegtersang and @lazyveran for listening to me ramble about this AU of an AU and generally being very supportive. And to @lunarcrystal for her VC!Annie AU and all the brainworms :)

Can also be read on ao3 | ffnet

Sgt. Magrath's successor T. Mueller assumed the position before the funeral took place.

In the weeks following the Battle of Heaven and Earth it was decided that the Warrior Programme would be disbanded. While Marley already struggled to maintain both a victorious air and its tenuous cooperation with the Mid-Eastern Alliance, the Queen of Paradis came forward. Rather than put Eren Jaeger to death as a traitor to Paradis and humanity alike, he was deemed fit to stand trial.

Mueller suspected the reason had less to do with the good of humanity, and more with Paradis’s wealth of untapped natural resources. Without the Pure Titans and Walls, there was nothing to stop the rest of the world from pouring in. Kiyomi was eager to act as a mediator between the Mid-Eastern Alliance, Marley and Paradis. Now, Paradis’s Queen was open to the possibility of trade, but not before reformation of its own borders. This had been the subject of every other meeting for several weeks, aside from the exact details of the armistice.

According to the latest report, the trial deemed that the Founder's influence had driven Jaeger into a state of psychosis, and he could not be held entirely responsible for his actions within Marley or Paradis after killing Wilhelm Tybur and his collection by Paradis's Scouting Legion. To many in Paradis, he was a renegade who swore annihilation against all who would oppose him, rather than a defender. So he was to spend his remaining years in exile. A good deal of Jaegerists demanded to be exiled as well. Unlike their namesake, there was no Titan-induced psychosis to excuse the myriad reports of destruction and savagery unleashed upon the inner circle under their reign. Their consolation was a firing squad.

Mueller was ethnically Marleyan, but had first-hand experience with Marley’s use of zeppelins within Fort Slava. He saw the surviving Eldians not as monsters but humans that had been given power beyond their understanding or ability to control on their own terms. They were not to be ostracized without first giving them a chance to prove themselves rational, as many had pledged their alligance to Marley before and died for that same cause. Now, with the death of Ymir and The Worm, so too did these Eldians lose their connection to the devil that slept within their blood. There was no immediate reason to fear retribution from the Titans or their kin. To eradicate them now would be an act of genocide.

While the world was preoccupied with rumors of Paradis' retaliation, the Titan Biological Society was quietly disbanded. The details of Warrior Unit and its invention were similarly declassified. Civilians who grew up with Warrior Programme in their formative years were exposed to the horrors behind their most prestegious and dangerous branch of the military.

Eldians and Marleyans alike would gather outside the wraught-iron gates of the HQ. They rallyed around the surviving Warriors as an example of a civilized Eldian. This sentiment was growing quickly, much to the disgust of the Mid-Eastern Alliance whose only experience with Eldians came down from the sky in zeppelins.

"God damned kids," muttered Otto, a fellow Captain who had been present when the aeroplanes were first sent during the last year of the Paradis Operation. "The internment zones and hospitals are already flooded with Eldians. And now you want to bring in their figurehead." Otto scoffed around the cigarette in his mouth. "It's madness, all of it."

To say Mueller had his work cut out for him was being charitable. At a tenuous stage such as this, Marley's success was just as much about the politicking as a show of force. The younger generation was the future, and had more energy behind them than the embittered servicemen or displaced, smaller nations that lacked Paradis's berth of natural resources to justify their existence. It was true that the Warriors had not asked to be made into monsters. They had survived despite the devil in their blood and it was only right that they eke out their remaining days as civilians.

"He's only a renegade," Muller said. "If we let Jaeger die a martyr, this will only get worse."

Otto had no argument. He flicked the butt of the waning cigarrette out of the train window without looking to see where it landed. "You'd best hope you're right."

The Azumbaito family had encouraged Marley to accept Jaeger into their settlement as an expat where Paradis would not. They argued that Jaeger's actions, in part, had brought mankind together to end the war in a twisted way. Jaeger was a traitor and renegade and war hero, depending on what was most convenient. After weeks of reasoning with Marley's top brass, they had set aside an hour for Muller to speak with Jaeger, who would be sent in by boat and kept in a holding cell. If Mueller could convince him to cooperate, Jaeger could be rehabilitated, just as the others of his kind who grew up in Marley. The only difference between them, Mueller argued, was their willingness to concede.

Jaeger had been living in a burgeoning Marleyan settlement, the remnants of what was once Fort Slava. In the cell, he was no pariah or Devil of anything. Just another prisoner of war, rebuilding the very civilization that was trampled at the behest of his enemies.

Sgt. Mueller had his own interests in agreeing to the plan. He could accept that Jaeger had his uses, but selling him as anything other than a lesser evil to humanity was going to take time. As an inheritor of Eldia's power and its curse, Jaeger wouldn't live long enough to see the outcome of his survival. He was the perfect candidate for Mueller to work with.

Jaeger, a taller man than he was in the photographs, looked at the red armband and back to Mueller's face without emotion. He was dressed in a simple button-up shirt and chinos that were cleaner than Mueller had expected. A white scar stuck out across his throat. His dark hair was cut short.

"The Progenitor didn't want to let go," said Jaeger, holding Mueller's eyes. "They had to cut me out."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Muller said, "You haven't been healing. Isn't that as easy as breathing for someone like you?" Jaeger didn't respond. Muller tried another approach. "I hear you left a lot of supporters behind. The Jaegerists, weren't they? In Paradis. You must have had a good reason to abandon your people."

"They cared nothing for the country. Only what they could destroy in my name." His eyes, closer to green than gray, bored through Mueller and the wall behind him. The guard shifted in place, fingering his rifle. Mueller ignored him.

"If you were to emigrate to Liberio, you'd have a pension and a tenement. Perhaps a chance to explain yourself. There are those among us who would be willing to listen, I'm sure you've seen the protests." Mueller's lip curled. Jaeger was unmoved. "Your own countrymen didn't afford you the same opportunity. The strain of spinal fluid that was introduced into your bloodstream is no determinant of your worth."

Jaeger glanced down the hall. "You must have hundreds of men like me back in Marley's hospitals. But they're out of their minds or too burnt up to speak in your stead."

Mueller paused. He made an effort to keep his face placid. This gutsy son of a bitch was exactly the man he was looking for, even if he refused to accept it himself. "It's true that I could just as soon leave and find one of them. But you're cognizant and able to reason with me. Most are not."

Jaeger levelled with him. "That's why you're here."

Mueller forced a smile. "I'd ask you to think about it, but three years isn't forever, and in that time Marley could just as well decide Eldia isn't worth preserving without Titans. If you refuse you'll go back to breaking rocks with the other POWs. If that's your wish, I won't refuse it."

Jaeger shifted from one foot to the other, his expression difficult to read. He looked at Mueller. "The block in Liberio was destroyed."

"It's been rebuilt," Mueller said. "You'll have a roof over your head. Then you can drink yourself to death in the privacy of your own apartment, if that's really what you're after."

For the first time Jaeger chuckled. "When was this decided?"

"Last month, by Marley. And a few of your sympathizers in the Azumbaito family."

A flicker of comprehension in Jaeger's eyes. Mueller saw cruel satisfaction. The prospect of reaching the very people that once considered him scum. If he could not wipe them out directly, he could get into their heads. Manipulate the minds of their progeny. Idealistic and desperate to prove themselves, who else could know better than him.

"Fine," he said. "I'll agree to live here."

Mueller was taken aback. "You've no other conditions?"

Jaeger stood up. "No, sir."

Mueller had expected more of a pushback. Evidently he was mistaken. But he kept his nerve and said, "You'll be situated here by the end of the week."

As he walked out of the cell, he didn't look back. Jaeger made no sound.

After the declaration of war, the Mid-East Alliance and other civilized nations decreed to destroy Paradis with the full might of their aeroforce and naval ships. Eren's first mistake was to entrust the rebels as anything more than a distraction. His second was to force Historia's hand as a terrorist. If not for Mikasa, he would have succeeded in eradicating all of Paradis's enemies abroad, but not on the island itself. So Paradis would be left to rebuild its forces in peace.

Not much had changed from the last time he set foot upon Marley's shores. The ampitheater was still in ruins, but he'd not gone by to see for himself. New faces took place of the ones he'd slain. A family next to him and an aging vet whose brother wound up in one of the zeppelins. They were Eldian, but none of them Warriors. Eren had yet to speak at length to one of the Warriors at length. His new life was an echo of the ten months he'd spent as Eren Krueger. Without the imperative of a war on the horizon, he was only subsisting.

He kept a relatively clean apartment. He took up journalling to retain his purpose and give himself something else to think about beyond the pit of ennui in his gut. Keeping down dates, small happenings. He got by, even as a serviceman looking for work. The Marleyan who ran the post office took to him like a second son, or else he was eager to appeal to the political wave of empathy towards Eldians. Eren had no interest in asking.

Five days a week he would sort letters in the back of the store, out of sight of customers, and attend clerical duties once the son moved further towards the countryside in pursuit of his own fortune. The father would lament about this often, but appreciated Krueger's talent with a bucket and mop. Krueger rarely said much.

Despite the influx of Eldians into Liberio, the old security measures were still in place. So, there would be no letters couched in innuendo to his compatriots back home. Nothing that would be sent outside the internment zone. Despite the ocean of difference his thoughts were consumed by the home he'd given up.

On his off-time Krueger had been visiting the newsstand. Lately he was keeping tabs on the Tybur family's whereabouts and who had inherited the Titan Biology Program. The Warrior Unit was dissolved on public record. Most of those Eldians who were injected wound up in hospital. Some were stable enough to move into the tenements. The ones too advanced to release were shipped off to parts unknown. Warriors were still discriminated against by their non-Titan Shifting Eldians and Marleyans alike. There was no reason to pretend to respect them, now the war was over. A bunch of devil-blooded freaks who lost the war in spite of their God-like power and cost Marley a fortune.

Galliard and P. Finger were to become ambassadors for Marley by next year, but there were other Eldians with serum in their bodies who never made it into the papers. Vice Captain A. Leonhardt had stepped down around the same time of the dissolution of the Warrior Unit, but he could find little mention of her afterwards. B. Hoover and R. Braun were marked down as MIA.

The same circle of Marleyan policemen in plainclothes would follow him about his daily routine, as if he were unaware or plotting another revolt.

At times the old pull of the Founder ushered him downwards into an endless oblivion. He could drink himself into a stupor, but escape was fleeting. Everything he'd fought for, watched other soldiers die for, the culmination of that falsehood lay before him in an expanse of unbroken sky. Despite his exhaustion he strained to reach out and feel the freezing air against his face. No longer fighting for the sake of his friends, safe in Paradis.

The Hallucigenia clung to him at the nape. Hundreds of tiny legs piercing flesh. It burrowed and burrowed past his steaming flesh into his brain, connecting to him as he had once connected to the other body in miniature. Burdened with a taste of power, then wielded by an inhuman, timeless entity, he must relearn how to live as a mortal man.

When he was still recovering, the Marleyan doctors expressed a great interest in these dreams. They'd chalked it first up to shellshock, but they'd also told Eren to document as much as possible so that future generations might understand the burden of inheriting their closest approximation of God himself. Eren had thought little of it at the time. What could a Marleyan possibly understand? It was not the wielding itself but the act of being wielded by something far greater and impenetrable to understanding. He had been connected to the Founder in spite of his common blood.

There would be no epiphany or God to heal him or bring back the friends he'd lost. Pledging his life for their survival was a hell of a lot simpler when he was convinced they would outlive him. In the end they would still go on and he would give his life for humanity as he'd wanted as a boy, beneath the old chapel in Mitras.

He slept lightly. Old friends occupied his waking moments. A zoetrope of faces trapped in time, hounding him in dreams. Every night he'd wake up in a cold sweat. The pain in his knee was a new development. He couldn't fix it and throw the remains behind the butchershop like he used to. He got up and felt around in the dark for the edge of the mattress. Throwing his legs over the bedside. Testing his weight. He could walk, at least, despite the discomfort. Nothing worse that what he had endured before. He sat there until his eyes adjusted to the room, underlit by moonlight.

He walked slowly over to the desk. There was enough light by the window that he could write. In the blueish light of the moon the ink stained the page, close enough to blood.

He wrote for half an hour and sat in silence until the sun broke over the horizon. He checked his wristlet before getting ready for work. He was en route to the train station and decided to stop by the newsstand out of habit.

Today was an off day. He'd been so wrapped up he had forgotten. With little to occupy his time, perhaps his best bet was to make contact with the surviving Warriors. They were closer to his own countrymen. If he was to remain off of Paradis for the next two years, what harm could come of speaking among his own kind?

"Sir," the man said, "you're going to have to buy that if you want to read it."

Eren went home without buying anything. He walked about Liberio, considering his approach. He had a few hours to burn. He went back to the tenement with a newfound mania. The old man downstairs had bought a phonograph and was very pleased with it. He'd play music from the outside world. Eren would stand and listen. Even if he couldn't pick out all the words, the dialect was familiar.

Eren shook himself from recollection. The old woolen jacket he favored had a few holes. Nothing he couldn't mend. His upbringing in Shiganshina and time as a serviceman had taught him plenty, so he didn't stick out here aside from his foreign accent. He fixed the jacket to his satisfaction and replaced it and the sewing kit. For the hell of it he did a preliminary dust check. It wasn't yet noon, and he might sleep through the day if he chanced a nap. Exhaustion had run its course, giving him the opposite problem. He was too exhausted to let himself relax.

He read through his old notes on his father's journal. He transcribed a little more of it to the best of his recollection, then walked the length of the room and back again.

There was no grasp at freedom. Just a bigger cage full of people who would not learn from their ancestors. For the same reason Armin had nothing to say to him, and Mikasa agreed to kill him if it came down to it. No soul on Paradis could understand the brunt of what he once did, but neither did he, sitting here with bloodied knuckles and bruises and a rush of blood fading from his head. He'd convinced himself of the lie, for it was simple when he was ready to give up his life. He'd always been so simple, even as a boy.

The armistice was not his only way forward. Its true purpose eluded him still. He'd thought it all simple, back then. If he were to revert his choices and pledge himself now, it would not be for some child's idea of glory or freedom. Perhaps there'd come a day when their faces became indistiguishable. But he'd be long gone by then. He could content himself with that, just as he had before.

Asking around for names was risky, given his previous involvement. He'd kept quiet up to this point. Anyone who wanted to have business with him would've come forward by now. He had little to lose by trying, at least.

There were a number of Eldian pubs he could look into. The Warriors, despite their prestige, couldn't leave the internment zone without a waiver. It was less hassle to stick to the ghetto than deal with the paperwork, just for the chance for a Marleyan to spit in your drink. A boon for Eren, as it lowered the number of places to look.

A few days of hanging around. No one gave him trouble. A second glance was the most notoriety he'd experienced after a few attempts. He always sat in the back and watched the customers.

Today, the usual. A man with a red armband sat at the bar. Krueger was in luck. He took the seat next to him and ordered.

"I haven't seen you around before." Krueger turned. The man offered his hand. The glint of a band around his finger caught his attention. "I'm Galliard."

Krueger shook. "Tomas."

Coming from the same Galliard he'd used to crack open Tybur's shell and funnel her remains, he was unsure what to expect. "My wife should be along soon. We're waiting for a colleague to join us." Eren gauged this possibility. Could be an old friend from the war. Could be anyone. As long as he kept his emotions in check, there was no harm in playing along. "She's never been very sociable," Porco muttered. "She's been taking care of her father a lot. Lousy son of a bitch isn't even appreciative."

Krueger's hand on the counter tensed. "Your wife?"

Porco paused. "Oh, but of course you wouldn't know." He chuckled. "I'm sorry. The colleague is a mutual friend of my spouse. We served together in the same unit while the war was going on." He shrugged. "Now that the war's over, we come down every week or so and drink."

Krueger said nothing.

"Do you think you're better than me?"

"No," said Krueger. "I just don't usually come here to talk."

Porco barked out a laugh. "You're right to the point. You'd get along with Leonhardt."

"Is that her name?"

Porco froze. "I&emdash;oh, damn it, look. If you see her, you didn't hear from me."

"I won't," Krueger said.

The doors opened. Porco glanced over and his expression changed. "Thank God, she's here. With the situation outside of Liberio as it is, I wish she'd take the same train as I do."

A small, dark-haired woman took a seat next to Galliard. "Sorry I'm late." Her eyes moved from Galliard to Krueger and fixed there. Krueger watched from his peripherals as he took a drink. "There was a delay on the train. Nothing serious."

"I'm just glad you're here," Porco said, oblivious to what was happening.

"I was about toe were fighting the wrong enemy," Porco said shortly. "It's never been about Eldia or Marley. I didn't always see it that way."

Eren fell quiet.

"He's just drunk," said Pieck. "He doesn't know what he's saying."

"Leonhardt is still in Liberio?"

Porco frowned. "What business is it of yours?"

It was Pieck who said, "Don't mind him."

Krueger stopped and the silence prolonged itself past comfort. Porco's expression changed. In Paradis he might have been a renegade and in Marley he was simply a had-been. A lifetime of service had conditioned Pieck and the other Warriors to be secretive. Of course it struck him that Annie wouldn't be thrilled to learn he was alive. She would rather regrow her arm tendon by tendon than talk about her personal feelings.

"I've seen you before," said Porco in a low, uneven voice. "You're lucky the war's over." He slapped his money on the counter and got to his feet. "Pieck."

The woman kept her seat. Porco stared at her in disbelief.

"I have no interest in causing any harm," said Krueger. "To you or anyone else."

"Go to hell," Porco said, and left.

The woman watched him go. "I suppose that's better than you expected."

Krueger, glancing at her, said, "You're ambassadors."

Pieck shrugged. "Moreso in name. Someone has to make sure Marley and its enemies don't forget the past too quickly. The younger Warriors don't care much about politics. Porco took to it, though." Her fingers drummed idly on the table, idiosyncratic. "I suppose Reiner would've made a good diplomat if he'd lived." She kept her tone warm and easy, but her eyes trained on him were anything but. "You spoke to him before, didn't you? During the Paradis Operation."

Krueger didn't answer.

"I didn't mean to pry," Pieck said. "I just wondered what you must think of everything, now that you're here."

"What does it matter?" It came out acerbic, without pretense. "It's been settled, even if we won't live to see how it ends."

Pieck didn't flinch. She looked at him with an expression he could not describe. Too close to pity for his liking.

"A week ago," she said, "I was supposed to be dead. Porco will have ten years. Maybe I only have a week left. Or a year, perhaps ten years. Without the constant strain of regeneration, there's a chance we might regain some of the time we'd have otherwise lost."

Krueger was staring fixedly at his drink, untouched. She set her money on the counter with a sigh and stood. He paid and followed suit.

"I suppose this must be awkward," she said, "now that we're not speaking around a gun." Krueger laughed. She gave him a wan smile he wasn't used to. "I hope we can talk about it next year."

"Yeah."

Eren watched her leave. He swallowed past a lump in his throat, then moved on himself. Rage simmered in his blood with no purpose outside its expulsion. A question brewed in her absence, interfering with the easier promise of his early death. He walked along the street, blood in his ears. Figures moved past his gait. He bumped into one and kept moving. A man's voice shouted. Krueger turned to face it.

He'd never gotten in a fight in Marley. Once or twice the thought crossed his mind. But he was crippled then. Growing back his leg just to get into a pointless fight was more expenditure when he could simply redirect his energy into fixing his eye. In this moment the capacity to survive longer than his term limit was unbearable as subsistence.

Years of training ingrained against the promise of a scrap, just to feel anything. The older urge won out. Bloody and senseless. As a boy he didn't care about winning or losing. Just hurting something else that could feel the same pain as him. The shock of healing like a normal man. This existence his father sought to deny him, pitiable and fragile, he could finally claim for his own.

Stumbling home. He went over to the armoire and opened the bottommost drawer and fetched some gauze. He took a seat and bound his hand in silence.

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