Tumblr mini-fic request with the prompt, things you said after you kissed me.
A little alteration of the best scene in the whole manga tbh.
Requested by heebster-blaze on tumblr. Enjoy~
It was like a splash of ivory on a canvas of ink, permanently inscribed behind his eyes. Joining the few memories he could never forget no matter how hard he tried, for once it was something he wouldn't mind playing over and over again in his head.
It was a sweet moment in the midst of the chaos ensuing around them. Soldiers were dying in every direction surrounding their place on the grass in the middle of nowhere. Death was such a terrible taste. Each and every time was worse than the previous, and yet he had still grown a sort of numbness against it—like a sting that he could feel and he knew would cause him damage, but the pain hadn't yet shown itself. So for the moment, as brief as it was, he could forget about them and carry on.
He was screaming. One name of the death plague stood out among the rest. To this day, if he thought about it enough, Eren could still hear the bones crunching. Just like that, bravery proved meaningless in a fight that couldn't be won; snatched away in a fraction of a second with a wide set of teeth.
They were all so weak. Mikasa couldn't stand on her own two feet, Hannes lacked the skills to fight, and Armin didn't have the strength to carry Jean and run. And him? All he could do was sit there and cry, and watch someone die. More than one. Everyone he had left to care about.
His fists thrashed into the ground. What was the point of all of this suffering if they were all just going to die in the end? What was the point of screaming if it didn't accomplish anything? What was the point in standing up if he couldn't do anything?
A soft voice made his ears perk. Anything to distract him. Antyhing to take this pain away. He sat up, blood rushing in his ears, finding Mikasa smiling sadly at him. She was on the brink of crying, but he had already beaten her to it.
Mikasa was here, ready to die with him, like always by his side. He turned his head to Armin, who was already looking at him. Many unsaid things passed between them in that last moment, regret swelling in his heart. It couldn't end like this. There were so many places they had yet to see together, the three of them. They couldn't die still stripped of their freedom, something that they, and every other living being, deserved.
Mikasa called his name with a cracking voice. She hadsomething to tell him and so very little time to say it, so he gave her his full attention. It was the least he could do, after all.
He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't a speech of gratitude. He'd hardly thought much of himself, aside from those rare moments as a naive kid who thought he was something special because of his powers. He had no idea where they came from, much less could he control them. He'd been so stupid, so weak, so useless.
Yet he allowed himself to see himself through Mikasa's eyes, through her words. A little kid with black and white morals, outsmarting murderers and becoming one himself for the sake of helping another. A stranger. One who knew the truth to survival and once had dreams to fight alongside the soldiers he looked up to. Back then, he thought he understood. He knew people died. He knew it was ugly. But he also knew it was necessary.
She reminded him of that strict mantra he'd once told her, all those years ago. She said it was how she carried on living, that it was something she had needed and he had given it to her. In his eyes, that was just how the way things were. Everyone should have known that.
Was it really something special? Did humans really think they could survive without fighting for it?
It happened in all of a few seconds, but she relied on him. She believed in him. She truly thought there was some greatness in him, that he was strong, and that he could do something.
She had kissed him, which he accepted without much thought, other than gentle things amidst the chaos. He could feel a brief change in his mind, a different light settling around them, like the world had shifted suddenly and he was too caught up in it.
But the feeling went away as quickly as it had come. Had she kissed him in a different scenario, he may have blushed. But the gesture was enough to clear his mind, and he understood her more in that moment than he could ever remember.
Mikasa truly thought she was going to die. She even pleaded to him, simple nothings that she couldn't put into words yet he still understood. She needed his protection, his will, his strength.
It had taken him a very long time to see it, but he finally did. If she truly believed he could save her, save himself, save everyone on the brink of death around them, then maybe he could. He would. He would find a way.
"Please," she had cried, over and over. It was enough.
His fists were still healing, but he didn't care. Their current state was enough. He stood brashly, memories of his mother's scolds echoing in his ears. Protect Mikasa for a change. Take Mikasa and run. Why won't you listen to this last request of mine?
His heart ached with his biggest regret. He spat out a promise that he hoped made up for the six years it had taken him to honor his mother's dying words, curled up what he could of his fists, and ripped out a punch into the giant hand reaching for him.
Something in his brain snapped, like he was struck by an invisible bolt of lightning. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as his fist collided with the hot Titan skin. The only thing running through his head was the image of the Titan's carass decaying, getting ripped apart by massive hands and cannibal teeth. He wanted the beast dead. The idea consumed him raw.
The next few seconds were a blur, but after the hand recoiled from his hit, Eren stood his ground, waiting for it to attack again. It never did, for another Titan had leapt over their bodies, landing it's jaws around the shoulder blade of the Smiling Titan. The impact shoved the two monsters back several yards, their thump on the ground sending both him and Mikasa into the air a few feet.
She landed hard on her knees, crying out and getting his attention. Eren turned, the look on his face bewildered at what just happened. She clutched at her ribs, but was staring beyond him with wide eyes. He turned back to the beasts, finding even more Titans running in their direction.
The Titans that had been killing his comrades, sauntering towards those left who weren't eaten, reaching for Armin, they abandoned their prey for the other Titan. He glanced around briefly; everyone was confused, but running for the horses despite that. Eren took the opportunity to run, as well.
He turned to Mikasa and threw out his hand for her to grab, which she took immediately. Running soon proved to be an impossible task for her; she barely made it off one knee before grasping at her ribs and collapsing. Eren caught her under the arms, thinking quickly and twisting in his hold, stooping and allowing her to shift onto his back. She snaked her arms around his front and pressed her knees into his side as he stood up straight, his hands hooking under her thighs as he began to run.
Hardly any time had passed, but Armin made it to a free horse. In the distance Eren could see the blond staggering under Jean's weight to get the unconscious dumbass onto the patient steed. Connie was going after Krista, and several other nameless soldiers were scrambling for horses.
Mikasa had glanced behind them at the mess of Titans while Eren, and commented on their behavior. Why the monsters had turned on their own kind baffled him, and the connection came to mind; they were treating the Smiling Titan like an enemy, the same way he becomes a target for food whenever he transforms.
It was too odd of a coincidence. His thoughts has little time to dwell on the matter, however, as ground-shaking thumps turned his attention to Reiner's Titan in the rapidly-approaching distance.
His anger refueled, blood boiling a thousand degrees as it raced through his veins. Those fucking traitors. All of those hundreds of thousands of countless lives were bloody stains on their hands. It was their fault humanity lost one third of its territory and was even closer to extinction. It was their fault he lost his mother, his father, and Armin's grandfather. It was their fault Marco was dead, all those freshly graduated trainees who didn't live past their first day on the job, the entirety of Squad Levi.
How dare those assholes try and play soldiers while the people they are pretending to protect die at their hands. Eren was furious before; now he was absolutely, violently livid.
Words erupted from his mouth, tearing his throat open before he could think them, and the same feeling from earlier struck him. It was like his thoughts themselves had snapped in half, and the ends were pointing at the traitorous bastards himself. He wanted them to die.
Just as suddenly as before, the Titans that had nearly finished devouring the Smiling Titan changed course, like a silent command echoed out through the land. Only for Eren, it wasn't so silent. His brain had pulsed, like someone from the outside had squeezed it, and he could see Reiner's face being ripped apart in his head.
The Titans surrounded the Armored Titan, stopping the bastard in his tracks. They started biting into his flesh, their teeth hardly sinking into the hardened skin. There were so many of them, however, that Reiner couldn't fight all of them off.
Eren kept running, gritting his teeth. Serves him right. But something churns in his stomach as he runs. What was that? That snapping feeling, the one that happened right before the Titans attacked another one of their kind, it happened twice. Both times occurred when his mind was so full of rage he could hardly see straight. Was he the one who snapped? Did he do that?
There wasn't time to think about it at the moment. More pressing matters weighed on him, like getting to safety while they had the chance. Armin had since mounted his horse and collected another, and was galloping like a saint in their direction. He was at their side in seconds.
With a few pained grunts, Mikasa hoisted herself up onto the saddle with her hands and Eren's support. She shared a look of quick relief with Armin while Eren followed her up, taking the front and handling the reigns.
He waited until Mikasa's arms were secure before racing off in the opposite direction, heading for the other escaping soldiers fleeing to Wall Rose. Armin kept his horse close to them, racing side by side away from the blood pool of Titans. The sounds that echoed behind him were hellish in nature and Eren was sure he wouldn't ever be able to erase them from memory.
He'd never ridden a horse this fast before. But he knew they had to get away, put as much distance between themselves and the Titans as they could and as fast as possible.
They were too distracted for conversation. Once the entire group of soldiers were far enough away for most everyone's comfort, a few of the squad leaders began ordering directions—mostly for those in the Military Police, instructions for the classic formation used by the Survey Corps. Rather than spreading out the soldiers thinly, small groups of two or three horses were formed, for safety purposes and due to many riders donning one of the injured on their backs.
They were assigned to the right flank, closer to the center. They were luckier than others, due to Eren's value and refusal to ride anywhere without Armin. So they stayed close together, if only a couple yards away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Jean was starting to regain consciousness. Armin was fading in and out of deep thought; it was all he could do to follow Eren's path and keep up.
Mikasa was surviving, albiet barely. He could feel the tension in her muscles with every gallop, every bump shook her and rattled her bones. Her front was practically glued to his back, making breathing a little more than difficult. Her forehead pressed into his shoulder, leaving the cloth damp with her sweat. Not that he minded in the slightest. If it helped ease the pain even a little, he was glad to suffer through it with her. She had no choice, anyway.
Now that danger was no longer an emminent threat and their lives weren't flashing before their eyes, the adrenaline was wearing off. He could feel his body's exhaustion catching up with him. A lot had happened that day. Not only was it physically taxing, but it was emotional as well. He felt like he would pass out if he wasn't careful.
At some point, Mikasa did. Her grip laxed and her hands dropped to his lap, and for a fleeting moment he feared she was about to fall over. She didn't, but he latched his fingers around her wrists anyway, ensaring them to ensure she wouldn't slip off.
He wondered vaguely how bad the pain must have been for her to blackout. She was tough when it came to pain tolerance; not as much as himself, but enough to impress him. Most of the times she was ruthless. During a spar between her and Connie that had accidentally gone too far, Mikasa had taken a knife through the upper arm but still managed to knock the midget out cold with a swift high kick to the jaw. The cut was deep but she hardly paid any mind to it. A real, true, and strong soldier, some would say.
Very stark in contrast to just minutes before, when she thought her life was over. When she cried out to him, thanking him for his strength and will and begging for him to save the day like the hero she believed he was. When she kissed him.
He wondered, idly, if things would be different when they returned to the wall, to true safety. When they could take the time to remember what happened, when they would be questioned for the official reports, when he found a doctor to tend to her injury.
What would she say to him, knowing she kissed him? Had she really meant to? Were there feelings buried down that she never had the courage to say to him? Was she simply caught up in the moment, or was she trying to give him the boost he needed? Would she be embarassed and pretend it didn't happen?
Question after question; it was like a blizzard in his mind. And he was far too tired for questions.
They reached the base of the wall in under an hour. The formation had only come across a few ordinary Titans that the veterns took care of with ease. They didn't bother setting a course for the gate of Karanese; the Garrison was ready with the lifts and medics and back up soldiers to give them cover while the survivors were pulled to the top.
Eren was one of the first to be lifted. He had dismounted after stirring Mikasa awake, standing beside the horse to keep it still while they ascended. Though conscious, she kept her eyes closed, the immense pain from the hour-long ride on horseback still lingering in her abdomen, even if she had been unconscious for most of it. It was obvious in her face, how her eyes seemed more sunken in than normal. She looked like she was about to cry.
For her support and his, he kept an arm wrapped around her backside, hand resting on her thigh, the other gripping the reigns. She peeled it of her leg and took his grip in her own, squeezing for an outlet. He squeezed back, wishing there was more he could do.
Neither of them spoke until they were at the top. Eren steered the horse away from the edge to make room for the others that arrived on their own lifts. To his bewildered surprise, Mikasa, who had started swaying from side to side, tried to dismount, but he stopped her.
"Don't even try standing," he warned. She knew damn well she would only cause herself more hurting. She nodded softly, fighting off unconsciousness, and accepting her weakness that she loathed. She allowed him to lift her off the horse carefully, balancing her weight on his arms without disturbing her injury.
He found a medic quickly, and a stretcher was made ready for her. She said nothing as he lowered her onto the cotton, closing her eyes while he removed the scarf from her neck and folded it neatly to tuck it under her head. As his hands worked with the short task, the doctor questioned him a little about her injuries. His voice was monotone, he noticed, deprived of any emotion. Not even sadness.
Satisfied with Eren's explanation, the medic stood and searched for an assistant and a spare wagon to prepare for the injured, leaving the two of them alone.
Mikasa was the first to say something. She apologized. So stupid. When he asked why, she simply said it was because she didn't protect him.
Of course, he brushed it off. It wasn't always her job to do the protecting. In fact, he should have been the one apologizing. It had taken far too long for him to return the favor, after all.
Eren didn't know if he could explain it to her, but perhaps she knew, deep down. That was just the way the two of them worked. They were always looking out for each other, and even if he hadn't shown it very often, even if it was difficult to remember in the hellish lives they lived, even if it took a simple kiss to remind him, he'd promised her something that had already gone unsaid between them since the day they met.
They would always be together, no matter what. And he couldn't forget it if he tried, nor did he mind that fact.