A/N: so i sat down to write werewolf porn one night and somehow ended up with a multi chapter story leading up to it. i'm not quite sure how this happened ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Raindrops tapped a smooth, quiet rhythm against the windows, rivulets chasing one another down the nebulous glass. Eren passed the palm of his hand against the glass, smearing the moisture there, but he could only just barely see the road and surrounding forest beyond. The car jumped as it ascended the mountainside, wheels crunching against the gravel and cobblestone.
Nearly a decade had passed since he'd moved from Shiganshina, and with each passing building came the persistent flush of recognition. He spotted the old bookshop that he and his friends would often visit; he could have sworn that just yesterday, they were receiving the scolding of a lifetime for breaking one of the dusty old windows.
You should come visit for the summer, Armin had told him over the phone just a few months prior. I'm tired of spending mine in the city.
The idea, at that moment, was the most unappealing idea that Armin could have ever presented him with. Eren made a small, discontented noise in response, only for Armin to add cautiously, maybe you could spice up that portfolio of yours with the forest, since all you've got so far are weddings and birthdays.
But that's the point, Eren huffed. Nevertheless, Armin spent a few more weeks poking and prodding until he was finally convinced to go.
Fog gradually consumed the glass around the edges, and as it slowly crept inwards, they turned into a small neighborhood. The faint, yet unmistakable outline of a large oak tree passed by. He sent a small warning message to Armin. He looked back towards the window, staring at his own reflection for a small while before the car came to a slow, torturous stop.
He stepped out into the rain with a quick thanks to the driver, dragging his duffel bag along with him. A brief flicker illuminated the murky sky above, accompanied shortly by the low rumble of thunder. For a moment, his skin prickled, unrelated to the rain, and only then did he realize the complete absence of rain in the city.
Following the curve of glossy cobblestone, Eren could see that Armin stood shivering on the porch, the door behind him held wide open. He hurried up the path and nearly slipped on the first uneven step of the porch.
"Maybe I should've warned you about the storm," Armin told him, voice barely audible over the next growl of thunder overhead. He offered a hand and added, "and about that first step."
Armin's hand was shockingly warm against his own. Cradled by the mellow glow of the light within, Eren could vaguely see the small grin on Armin's face. With a huff, Eren griped, "Yeah, well, it's a little too late for that."
Inside, several pictures and maps were hung on the walls, and on the counters and corner tables, an equally cluttered mess of trinkets. Armin led him to the fireplace, where a recently lit fire crackled quietly on, its flames lapping along the uneven edges of the logs placed there. He perched on the edge of a couch, against a few soft cushions, while Armin left to retrieve a towel.
From the small closet under the stairs, he could hear Armin say, "God, Eren, it's been so long since you've moved." He kicked the door shut behind him, rattling the few fairy lights that hung low from the railing above. "I want to say that so much has changed, but . . ."
"Literally nothing ever happens here," Eren finished for him.
Armin offered him the towel with a small laugh, "People still talk about that kid who stole a lighter five years ago, you know."
Despite his sour mood, Eren couldn't stop the smile that tugged insistently at the corners of his lips. Another brief flicker shined through the windows. He stared at the few oddly shaped rocks that lined the windowsill, and just outside, he could spot the beginnings of trees and underbrush.
"You packed really light," Armin pointed out after some time. "I seriously thought you'd bring your whole setup and everything."
Eren rest his hand on his duffel bag, a little sheepish when he started, "Ah, well . . ."
Armin pinned him an incredulous look. "What? No way."
"I didn't bring much! Just my old camera."
Seemingly dissatisfied, Armin rose from the couch and gestured Eren to follow. The staircase creaked with each step, the smooth, delicate patterns on the wood faintly highlighted by the twinkling glow of the fairy lights that twisted loosely around the railing. Upstairs, there were more picture frames, all of which depicted Armin and his late grandfather throughout his childhood. They stopped once they reached the first bedroom.
The bed, covered by a thick blanket and more pillows than Eren knew what to do with, was pushed up against the large window that overlooked the forest. Rivulets of rainwater raced down the glass, sinking past the branching leaves of the potted plants that sat along the windowsill and out of sight. The inky sky above complimented the rich navy blue of the sheets and pillowcases.
"Make yourself at home," Armin told him. "My room's right down the hall, if you ever get lonely."
The door creaked slowly shut behind him. Eren could faintly hear Armin's footsteps down the hall. Were it not for the rain, he would have felt horribly out of place. Silence was always uncomfortable nowadays; perhaps that was the effect of perpetually busy streets and rowdy neighbors. He set his duffel bag on the bed and shrugged off his jacket. Unsurprisingly, he found a few slightly oversized shirts and sweatpants in one of the rickety drawers under the bed.
There was a faint cry outside the window that was nearly drowned out by the rain. It was high-pitched, fleeting, and if Eren was occupied with something else, it most likely would have gone by unnoticed. He stepped over to the window, idly rolling up a dry shirt is his hands, and peered down towards the outskirts of the forest.
The underbrush disappeared past the thick, gnarled trunks of oak and into the inky black void of the forest. He stared at the beginning of a path off to the side that was shielded by the overhanging branches. For a while, he stared at the desolate entrance to the forest, half expecting each flash of lightning to reveal something that was hidden in the yawning expanse of darkness. Anticipation melted into something of vague discomfort, and he quickly pulled the shirt over his head and left the room.
A louder, more aggressive growl of thunder loomed over his shoulders, eliciting a brief shiver. He knocked once on Armin's door before opening it, and inside, Armin sat cross-legged at his desk. He swiveled around in his office chair, coming to an abrupt stop as the arm bumped against the desk.
"What's got you spooked?" Armin asked lightly.
Fairy lights twinkled from where they were hung above the windows, connecting at each corner in long, sweeping arcs. The final arc ended at the top of a bookshelf, where books of all different colors and sizes were stacked neatly against one another. A tall lamp in the corner of the room, also wrapped in fairy lights along the shaft, washed the room in a warm, yellow glow. It accentuated the rich reds and oranges of the woven blanket that covered the bed.
With a sigh of relief, Eren hopped onto Armin's bed and buried his face into the fluffy pillows. He mumbled through the material, "I got lonely."
"Yeah, right," Armin snorted. "It's the thunder, isn't it? It never storms over in the city."
Eren looked up towards the windows, which were shielded by faded mandala curtains. He couldn't quite put his thumb on exactly what bothered him more - the forest or the storm. Or maybe it wasn't as simple as either or; he considered the faint cry he heard somewhere in the forest that night, then pressed his face right back into the pillows with a defeated sigh.
"Sure," he relented.
On the corner of a street nearby, there was a small coffee shop. According to Armin, it was relatively new, and it was quickly becoming popular amongst the younger townsfolk. They decided to walk there, following the cobblestone path down into the main road, where most things available were located. Eren supposed that was one positive of living in a small town; everything - quite literally everything - was within walking distance.
They settled with their drinks at a small table near the entrance. Eren watched as a few kids scrambled past, their voices high, triumphant, until Armin asked him, "Remember when we would play in the forest when we were little?"
It seemed like forever ago that Eren and his adoptive sister would both show up at the Arlert household, practically begging Armin to come with them to the forest until he finally gave in. They spent several summers with the other neighborhood kids in the forest, primarily swimming in the river, sometimes even catching the bugs they would find in the underbrush nearby. Maybe, if he tried, he could find the same path they took down to the river every morning when they were kids.
Yet despite how often they spent playing in the river, Eren didn't recall ever venturing that far into the forest itself. He swirled what was left of his drink with his straw, a thoughtful hum in the back of his throat, before he shrugged and finally admitted, "I remember the river, if that's what you're asking."
Armin rolled his eyes. "Kind of, yeah." He bit his lip, then muttered, "You know, it wasn't long after you left that everyone else kind of started leaving, too."
"I don't blame them," Eren snorted. "I'm surprised you haven't left yet. Why even stay?"
Armin's eyes trailed downwards, staring blankly at his own drink as he contemplated the question. "Well," he started, "I like how quiet it is here. It's easier to focus. And revolving my books around the town legend has paid off pretty well, I'd say."
Growing up, Eren and Mikasa held two separate predictions: Armin would either become a librarian or one day own a bookstore similar to the one he'd frequent at Shiganshina. They even bet on it. And they were both at a loss as to who exactly owed money when Armin somehow turned around and published his own book instead.
The inspiration of these psychological horror books wasn't exactly well-known, but anyone who lived in Shiganshina for any notable period of time knew of the tale; some insatiable creature lurked the forest at night, devouring any intruders who ventured too far. The few witnesses who have encountered this creature all testified to the same detail - striking gray eyes and a pelt darker than the night itself.
But really, it was just a story to tell the children so they wouldn't sneak out at night. Eren had stopped caring about this tall-tale creature long before he left Shiganshina, but even so, he could never convince Mikasa or Armin to venture out at night with him.
"Hey, do you still believe in that weird monster thing in the forest?"
Armin seemed surprised by the question. An unsure noise left his lips, and he answered lamely, "I'm not sure."
Eren expected to share the same incredulous amusement with Armin at the mention of the creature, yet to his surprise, Armin's response sounded eerily cautious. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, we all kind of knew it wasn't real, you know?" Armin rest his head on one hand, the fingertips of the other tapping softly against the tabletop. "I just thought it'd be really cool to write about. Then I started snooping around. And when I talk to the older folks and I look through some of the books my grandpa hid in his bedroom, it gets a little harder to believe that it's just a story."
Armin ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, the thick length of his collar rising to cover what was exposed of his neck. Eren never understood how he managed with turtlenecks and jeans in the muggy summer heat. That was one thing about him that never changed. Another thing that never changed was the way he'd play with his hair when he was particularly anxious.
Eren prompted slowly, "Well, that thing's not supposed to come out during the day, right?"
"Right."
"I think I'll go out to one of the trails tomorrow or something. Probably snap a few pictures while I'm out there."
Armin seemed delighted by the idea.
While Armin had never actually ventured into the forest since he was a teenager, he still had a recommendation on what he considered the "best" hiking trail. It was revealed to Eren shortly before he left that the few hiking trails available had always been desolate in the past few years.
Eren said he wouldn't stray too far, but he was never good at sticking to his word. A few hours had passed as he walked along the path, his camera held ready in his hands along the entire way. He found that he didn't ultimately regret leaving his music player behind; the delicate calls of birds and the faint rustle of leaves above him with each passing breeze were more than enough.
In a lull between picture taking, he thought back to the night he arrived. There had been something so ominous about the forest then, even on the outskirts where, realistically, there would be nothing to harm him. Yet there was nothing in the present moment that set him on edge as it did that night. It was blissfully tranquil, and for a moment, he wondered where such an absurd legend sprouted from.
He strolled along in leisure, the few leaves that protruded from the underbrush gently brushing his leg as he walked by. He examined each photo until he landed on the most recent one: a patch of flowers he found cradled between two thin trees. He finally looked up from his camera, focusing only on the base of the trees where he would hopefully find more flowers to photograph.
Briefly, he considered the very beginning of his photography career. He was young, and extremely bored, and he took photos of everything - of bugs, of potted plants, of passersby he found amusing. It all started with the camera his parents used to document birthdays and holidays, until he finally convinced his mother to buy him the cheapest camera available at the corner store. The rest fell into place from there.
While each photo he took of the forest was not perfect, he was happy with them regardless. Long ago, when he was printing out his blurry photos and proudly showing them to his parents, he would have never expected to come this far.
At some point, he came across a tree with four long, jagged scratches along its bark. Eren traced his finger delicately along the edges of the outermost scratch. All four dug deeply into the tree, the smooth brown within contrasting harshly with the dull gray of the bark.
He took a few steps back, snapped a photo, and hurried down further along the path.
Soon, the path widened, and Eren finally discovered the river. Without a canopy of leaves above him, he could see the beginnings of sunset approaching, a soft orange melting gently into the strong blue of the sky. Just a few feet away, he spotted a man seated on the sandy edge of the river.
He had his feet kicking in the water, his hands splayed out at his sides. The faintest trace of paint was evident on his pale skin, with small smudges of blue and purple marring his oversized shirt. He looked up over his shoulder as Eren approached.
"Hey there!" Eren greeted brightly. "I didn't think I'd find anyone out here."
He answered in a low, smooth deadpan, "I didn't, either."
His eyes flicked down to the camera, then back up to Eren's face, and after a small pause, he made a motion to stand. Eren stumbled to explain, "Oh, this isn't - I was just taking pictures of the scenery and stuff. You're not in the way or anything."
Slowly, perhaps against his better judgement, the man settled back down on the sand. "You're a photographer?"
"I am! But I don't really do this type of thing." Eren let the camera go, allowing it to rest at his side. "I'm usually all about weddings and birthdays, you know?"
The man glanced back down at the water with a small hum. As Eren tentatively approached and settled next to him, he could see their rippling reflections amongst the glitter of the streaming water. Eren found himself entranced by the stretch of the man's neck and deliciously pronounced collarbones. He followed the movement of them as the man straightened and leaned back.
Eren fidgeted a bit, then asked, "So, uh. What're you doing out here?" At the exasperated look directed towards him, he quickly added, "Just wondering! Apparently, no one goes hiking anymore."
"No one's got the time."
". . . I guess not," Eren reluctantly agreed. With a growing discomfort in the wake of silence between them, Eren continued to ramble on, "Everyone used to hang out here when we were all kids. Back before my dad and I moved away. Haven't really had the time for hiking or swimming since we made it to the city, though. School, and all that."
The man graced him with another fleeting glance. "Why are you here, then?"
"I'm on vacation!"
"You bring your work with you on vacation?"
"This isn't work. All of this would just look way too out of place in my portfolio." Eren looked up at the sky, where the sun was settling ever so slowly over the crowns of the trees. "Everything planted in the city is just done for aesthetic purposes, but here, trees and flowers just . . . exist, for their own sake and not ours." He paused, then added with a wistful sigh, "So I thought I'd take a few pictures while I'm here and hope that I don't forget again."
Beyond the whisper of the wind through the trees and the smooth flow of the river, the forest was silent. Eren glanced over once more and met the man's gaze. A nearly imperceptible trace of red was evident on his cheeks when he abruptly turned away and instead focused on his reflection in the water once more.
Eventually, he tentatively offered, "I come here to think." Prompted by Eren's thoughtful hum, he quietly continued, "I paint. But sometimes, inspiration's a bitch to catch, so I sit here for a while."
There were several questions that emerged on the tip of Eren's tongue for him to eagerly ask: where this man is from, where in town he frequents, what he paints, what colors he enjoys to work with the most. It was an impossibly laborious task to finally open his mouth to speak, distracted by pale skin and striking silver eyes, but the man abruptly stood and dusted off his shorts before he could utter a word.
"If you walk down along the river," he told Eren, avoiding his eyes, "you'll make it back just before the sun sets."
Eren could only watch as the man entered the forest from the path he had emerged from earlier. The shadows of the trees quickly swallowed him whole, and once again, Eren was alone.
For a few days, he returned to the river, choosing instead to enter directly on the other side of town rather than through the trail next to Armin's home. His camera was filled with several new photos as he traveled further down the river each time, but not once did he come across the man again. By the end of the week, he decided to spend the morning with Armin instead.
Eren was laying on Armin's bed, propped up on his elbows with his camera in his hands, going through each photo and deleting the few that didn't meet his standards. The insistent clacking of Armin typing away at his computer melted smoothy into the background. They sat in a comfortable silence long into the morning, until Eren finally came across the picture he took of the gashes against the tree bark.
"Hey, Armin?"
The typing came to a gradual stop. Armin turned the slightest bit. "Yeah?"
He stared at the gashes, at the way they curled over the edge and out of sight, and he tentatively prompted, "You never told me more about that forest monster thing."
"You never asked," Armin pointed out.
"Well, tell me about it."
Armin removed his glasses and set them down beside the keyboard. "Okay. It still kind of freaks me out, though." He swiveled around in his chair. "When I really think about it, I remember my grandpa told me a different version of the legend when I was little. Most old folks said that the creature ate people at night, but he told me that it wasn't actually a creature at all."
Eren continued to stare at the photo. At first, he assumed it to belong to a bear or whatnot, despite it being too deep, too harsh to belong to any bear. Perhaps, deep down, he knew that they didn't belong to a bear, but accepting that it belonged to some unknown entity was somehow more distressing.
"He used to talk about a spirit that would protect the trees," Armin explained softly, as if reminiscing the memory, "and, out of respect, we shouldn't bother it when we're not supposed to."
Eren rolled his eyes. "Are you sure he didn't just tell you that because you're a baby when it comes to creepy shit?"
"Well, I thought about it like that, too. Because, at this point, are we even really talking about the same legend?" He got up from his chair and approached the bookshelf. He said in a distracted murmur, "I couldn't decide if it was a monster or spirit, so I went looking around."
His finger ran down the spines of each book until he came across a particular hardcover book. Eren caught a glimpse of the faded text on its cover as it was pulled out, once printed in a bright, extravagant text that dimmed throughout the years. Armin plopped down on the bed, flipping quickly through the pages, and Eren dragged himself upwards to sit next to him.
"I found this when I finally got around to cleaning out Grandpa's old room. He kept it with his letters from Grandma. What seriously weirds me out is that this one's specific to Shiganshina."
On the left-hand side, there were long paragraphs written in small, significantly faded text. Next to it, some dark entity lingered on the paper, every feature of its torso smudged and distorted, its eyes impossibly large and vacant.
"The spirit that protects this forest is said to draw its power from the moon. And it stays as some sort of an omniscient entity unless there's a reason to manifest into a physical creature. It's . . . kind of hard to say whether it's a malevolent spirit or not."
As much as Eren wanted to read the text that Armin had been pointing to, it was nearly impossible to tear his eyes away from the entity drawn onto the page. Something about its hollow eyes tore into his very being, swallowing him as easily and as wholly as the shadows that engulfed the trees once the sunlight was gone.
"'The spirit does not do harm to those who enter the forest without malicious intent.' Which makes sense," Armin reasoned, thankfully closing the book and setting it aside, "because remember that one time Jean ran into the forest when his dad caught him smoking? He came back scared shitless, but he wasn't harmed in any way." He paused, a soft, defeated noise issuing from the back of his throat. "You know, I tried asking him about it once. He acted . . . kind of weird about it."
Somehow, as if the entity had relinquished its hold on him, Eren was finally able to ask, "What do you mean?"
Armin glanced out the window towards the forest. His countenance was oddly blank, only contorting into a grim expression when he said, "He told me that whatever it was, it wasn't human."
Eren couldn't find it in himself to stare at the photo of the gashes any longer.