I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
[It isn't lost on Eren that Aubrey and he can be positively sickening, but he doesn't mind it one bit. It's something Jean and the others would have busted his balls about back in the Cadet or Survey Corps; that's a fond mental image. All that being said, he takes his other hand and lays it, knuckles down, against Aubrey's cheek.]
[Aubrey, for one, doesn’t feel like she has a lot to… hm, what, hide? be embarrassed about? Maybe not quite that. But c’mon, Eren wrapped her wound in a barracks. So what if the Aubrey who met him never would’ve believed this? She believes it now. And no one’s going to tease her about it; just Eren. It’s fine; more than fine.]
[Tilting her head into his hand, Aubrey uses her free hand to run her palm up Eren’s cheek, flicking playfully at the stray hairs.] Mine.
[With his hand still on her cheek, it's easy to lean into the kiss. He slips the hand behind her ear, fingers intertwining themselves through pink strands of hair. They fit together too nicely; this was always inevitable, of course.
[He doesn't fully pull away once the kiss is broken.
[He can almost picture what it would be like if he'd met Aubrey back on Paradis. Maybe they'd be married by now. She'd be in the crowd, watching as the Scouts returned through the gates, searching for him.
[What a miserable life that would be; but, for Eren, a home to return to, no matter where she was waiting. It's not a terrible thought, all things considered...]
[She really never will tire of Eren’s lips on hers, his hand in her hair. Aubrey runs her fingers through his in turn, much as she can get through with strands pulled back in that messy bun, and stays there even when the kiss breaks.
[Maybe Aubrey’s projecting, but the way he looks at her… Always, always, always. Maybe he’s thinking of it, too.]
[His word surprises her.]
Hm? [Not a word, just a sound. If they’re still playing, she can only get so far…]
Where? [Maybe he wants to go back to the tree? Aubrey’s happy to help visualize, if he’d like.]
["Home" should be the answer - it is the answer, really, but...right now he's thinking of a home where returning means seeing her again; dancing in the market, maybe.]
You.
[Maybe he should explain, but...it feels better not to. He's stuck in a fantasy of his own making.]
[He… means returning to her, right? He can’t possibly be bringing up that would-be vow again.
[No… not when he’s looking at her like that. Aubrey tells herself that the passing anxiety is a good thing; she’s excited for a forever with Eren Jaeger. Nothing more.]
[She raises her other hand to his chest. Wherever he wants her…] Yours.
[She raises her hand to his chest, and he mirrors her, placing his own above her heart where he can feel the beat (well above any area someone might take offense to, mind you).]
Yours.
[There's a short pause. He almost wants to smile, thinking of what he'll say next. He wonders if it'll get on her nerves.]
You would have made a good wife back home. That's what I'm thinking about.
[Back home where a sixteen-year-old getting married wouldn't have necessarily been out of the norm.]
I haven’t thought about it that way. [Stupidly, this is all Aubrey can say for the moment. She’s more… baffled, than anything. Flattered? Surprised? It’s just a thought. He’s not suggesting anything further. Right…?]
[Just a thought. He actually does smile at her reaction, small as his smiles always are (the fact she can bring them out at all is impressive). He thinks anyone would be hard pressed not to smile at the face Aubrey is making, though (the blush included).]
I'm not asking you to marry me.
Only saying. Back when I was in the Survey Corps, you'd have been someone worth fighting for - something to come home to.
—Oh. Hah, yeah, of course. [There’s an “I knew that” in the tone, but that is patent bullshit and does not make it to words.]
[It’s a bittersweet compliment, all context considered. Aubrey can’t say she’d want to be someone to come home to, not if that homecoming was always a roulette. The idea of being that important to someone, though, to Eren—it excites her all the same.] …Thanks.
[She leans just a bit closer into him.] You’d be a catch where I’m from, too, I guess. [The last two words are a tease; the rest of the sentiment, very much not. It’s funny to think of Eren, ever-deadpan stoic Eren, as some leather-studded badboy. Not like that describes him in another universe or anything.] Anyone would be lucky to have you.
[The sentiment doesn't exactly find him ill, but it's not one he's too prone on agreeing with. Maybe back when he was fifteen he would have said he was a catch, but a lot has happened since then. He almost wonders if Aubrey's forgotten, or if, perhaps, her feelings for him are starting to cloud her judgment a bit; he's not really sure how he feels about that either. It's not as if he wants her to dislike him; still...]
I can't imagine myself in a world like yours. [That's the honest truth.]
[Take the Monster out of what made him, and what do you have left? Would there still be rage with no titans or walls to keep them out? Would he know freedom? Would he become spoiled on it? Would he have reason to care about anything at all?
[Things would be simpler. Would they be lesser, somehow, too?]
What parts would be left over?
[A question, while they're entertaining this thought exercise. His voice doesn't betray emotion in any one direction. It's just a question.]
I could see you in my world. Everything I know about you would still be true there.
[Oh, they’re doing philosophy questions now? Huh. Who knew a compliment could be so fraught.]
I don’t know, I think I’d be pretty different. [There’s no particular emotion in Aubrey’s voice, either. She’s stalling, sure, but giving it serious consideration.] It’s like you’ve said, [dead from shock] my world’s privileged. Compared to yours, anyway. [A “no offense” isn’t necesary, she thinks.]
You, though…
[She studies Eren’s face for a bit. Searching. He certainly yells less, except in rare moments, than his 9-year-old self seemed, to, but…
[“I was just trying to help. I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose—not in a million years!”
[That hasn’t changed, has it?]
I think… you’d still be loyal. You’d still be brave. And I’m not [a brief tease, why not] just saying that because I like that about you.
I know you care, with everything you’ve got—more than anyone else I know.
And granted, I don’t know why you’re like that, but…
[Faintly, another memory, more distant: “I was born into this world with a fight to pick.”
[The context… isn’t important, right now.]
…I know you’ve had those traits for a long time. So maybe that’s what makes you you.
[It's a sentiment that's entirely novel. Maybe Aubrey's judgment really is clouded; still, he can tell that she means it. She sounds so sure, in fact, that he's almost tempted to believe it himself. What she's saying isn't entirely false, after all. Yes, he is loyal. Yes, he is brave. Yes, he cares.
[But he's also a monster. He's cold, callous, and calculating. He's manipulative. He's violent. He's wrathful, built from the ground up by his own hatred.
[Aubrey doesn't know that either; how Eren's been pulling the strings since before he was even born. Eren Jaeger is what Eren Jaeger is because Eren Jaeger assured it.
[But Aubrey isn't. The room should look the same to her, if you can even call it a room. And Eren - or, at least, an illusory version - is still standing--]
B-behind you...
[The shadow is small and faceless. Somehow, it still manages to look terrified. Eren Jaeger, at eight years old, with a too-large red scarf wrapped around his neck. His hand trembles as he points past Aubrey. There's nothing there but Eren as she last knew him.]
Yes, it i— [She’s arguing with a shadow. A child shadow, at that.]
[Aubrey shuts her eyes, tries to walk; disorientingly, within a couple steps she ends up right where she started. Focus. She’s alone here. There’s no use pleading with an illusion. Think, steel yourself; what’s the lesson?]
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Bond.
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[Better. There’s probably something to be said for “stuck + together = bond,” but… one word at a time, yeah?]
Close. [Aubrey hooks back.]
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Warmth.
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[Aubrey, for one, doesn’t feel like she has a lot to… hm, what, hide? be embarrassed about? Maybe not quite that. But c’mon, Eren wrapped her wound in a barracks. So what if the Aubrey who met him never would’ve believed this? She believes it now. And no one’s going to tease her about it; just Eren. It’s fine; more than fine.]
[Tilting her head into his hand, Aubrey uses her free hand to run her palm up Eren’s cheek, flicking playfully at the stray hairs.] Mine.
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Detriment.
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[Who knew that word could sound so sweet.]
Y— [Actually.]
Ours.
[And she leans in for a kiss.]
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[He doesn't fully pull away once the kiss is broken.
[He can almost picture what it would be like if he'd met Aubrey back on Paradis. Maybe they'd be married by now. She'd be in the crowd, watching as the Scouts returned through the gates, searching for him.
[What a miserable life that would be; but, for Eren, a home to return to, no matter where she was waiting. It's not a terrible thought, all things considered...]
Return.
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[She really never will tire of Eren’s lips on hers, his hand in her hair. Aubrey runs her fingers through his in turn, much as she can get through with strands pulled back in that messy bun, and stays there even when the kiss breaks.
[Maybe Aubrey’s projecting, but the way he looks at her… Always, always, always. Maybe he’s thinking of it, too.]
[His word surprises her.]
Hm? [Not a word, just a sound. If they’re still playing, she can only get so far…]
Where? [Maybe he wants to go back to the tree? Aubrey’s happy to help visualize, if he’d like.]
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You.
[Maybe he should explain, but...it feels better not to. He's stuck in a fantasy of his own making.]
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[He… means returning to her, right? He can’t possibly be bringing up that would-be vow again.
[No… not when he’s looking at her like that. Aubrey tells herself that the passing anxiety is a good thing; she’s excited for a forever with Eren Jaeger. Nothing more.]
[She raises her other hand to his chest. Wherever he wants her…] Yours.
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Yours.
[There's a short pause. He almost wants to smile, thinking of what he'll say next. He wonders if it'll get on her nerves.]
You would have made a good wife back home. That's what I'm thinking about.
[Back home where a sixteen-year-old getting married wouldn't have necessarily been out of the norm.]
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[—Oh. That’s…]
[Eren will find her heart beating a little faster, and her face turning significantly redder.] Hah… Wait, w-wait, we just— Isn’t that…?
[An internal reminder: He was twelve.]
I haven’t thought about it that way. [Stupidly, this is all Aubrey can say for the moment. She’s more… baffled, than anything. Flattered? Surprised? It’s just a thought. He’s not suggesting anything further. Right…?]
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I'm not asking you to marry me.
Only saying. Back when I was in the Survey Corps, you'd have been someone worth fighting for - something to come home to.
It's a compliment.
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—Oh. Hah, yeah, of course. [There’s an “I knew that” in the tone, but that is patent bullshit and does not make it to words.]
[It’s a bittersweet compliment, all context considered. Aubrey can’t say she’d want to be someone to come home to, not if that homecoming was always a roulette. The idea of being that important to someone, though, to Eren—it excites her all the same.] …Thanks.
[She leans just a bit closer into him.] You’d be a catch where I’m from, too, I guess. [The last two words are a tease; the rest of the sentiment, very much not. It’s funny to think of Eren, ever-deadpan stoic Eren, as some leather-studded badboy.
Not like that describes him in another universe or anything.] Anyone would be lucky to have you.no subject
I can't imagine myself in a world like yours. [That's the honest truth.]
I don't think they'd know what to do with me.
[He wouldn't know what to do with himself.]
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[The first part’s a fair statement. It’s just a passing thought, after all, no more believable than Aubrey as a rural wife.
[But, ah…] “Do with you”? [A curious look.] Well, I mean— You’d be different, anyway. [Aubrey shrugs.] Just a thought.
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[Things would be simpler. Would they be lesser, somehow, too?]
What parts would be left over?
[A question, while they're entertaining this thought exercise. His voice doesn't betray emotion in any one direction. It's just a question.]
I could see you in my world. Everything I know about you would still be true there.
Can you say the same about me?
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[Oh, they’re doing philosophy questions now? Huh. Who knew a compliment could be so fraught.]
I don’t know, I think I’d be pretty different. [There’s no particular emotion in Aubrey’s voice, either. She’s stalling, sure, but giving it serious consideration.] It’s like you’ve said, [dead from shock] my world’s privileged. Compared to yours, anyway. [A “no offense” isn’t necesary, she thinks.]
You, though…
[She studies Eren’s face for a bit. Searching. He certainly yells less, except in rare moments, than his 9-year-old self seemed, to, but…
[“I was just trying to help. I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose—not in a million years!”
[That hasn’t changed, has it?]
I think… you’d still be loyal. You’d still be brave. And I’m not [a brief tease, why not] just saying that because I like that about you.
I know you care, with everything you’ve got—more than anyone else I know.
And granted, I don’t know why you’re like that, but…
[Faintly, another memory, more distant: “I was born into this world with a fight to pick.”
[The context… isn’t important, right now.]
…I know you’ve had those traits for a long time. So maybe that’s what makes you you.
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[That's what makes up Eren Jaeger?
[It's a sentiment that's entirely novel. Maybe Aubrey's judgment really is clouded; still, he can tell that she means it. She sounds so sure, in fact, that he's almost tempted to believe it himself. What she's saying isn't entirely false, after all. Yes, he is loyal. Yes, he is brave. Yes, he cares.
[But he's also a monster. He's cold, callous, and calculating. He's manipulative. He's violent. He's wrathful, built from the ground up by his own hatred.
[Aubrey doesn't know that either; how Eren's been pulling the strings since before he was even born. Eren Jaeger is what Eren Jaeger is because Eren Jaeger assured it.
[The room goes black. He's alone.]
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B-behind you...
[The shadow is small and faceless. Somehow, it still manages to look terrified. Eren Jaeger, at eight years old, with a too-large red scarf wrapped around his neck. His hand trembles as he points past Aubrey. There's nothing there but Eren as she last knew him.]
Aubrey...run!
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[—Wrong answer, huh?]
[The lights out startle her; Eren startles her, cold when she leans into him, or rather “Eren,” and she jumps back—]
[A different shadow talks before Aubrey can process. She looks down to him, back to “Eren,” to— That scarf.]
Eren?
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I am Eren. That is not. Me.
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Yes, it i— [She’s arguing with a shadow. A child shadow, at that.]
[Aubrey shuts her eyes, tries to walk; disorientingly, within a couple steps she ends up right where she started. Focus. She’s alone here. There’s no use pleading with an illusion. Think, steel yourself; what’s the lesson?]
[She eyes the shadow. He’s afraid.]
What makes you Eren? [And not someone else?]
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Don't you know what he's trying to do?
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“Trying t”—?
[—Ah.]
[Aubrey’s spine chills. It’s not from the voice. But it is from the distortion.]
[What the hell is wrong with—]
That— That doesn’t matter here. [Don’t fight the lesson, Aubrey… She swallows.] Does it?
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surprise!
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