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.
[Faintly the glare registers. It’s true; haven’t they said, through Hell and back, that questions like that don’t matter? Easier to brush off without bloodied hands.
[And yet, the core—that love, it persists. Aubrey’s; Eren’s; Armin’s. A full understanding, two ways; and for the outlier, half. Less than.]
That’s right…
You should talk to him.
[Where is he…?]
[Faintly, and not at all intentionally:
[Basil....]
[You weren’t supposed to hear that you weren’t supposed to hear that you weren’t supposed to hear that you]
I…
I don’t… [you weren’t supposed to Aubrey’s hands, stiff and trembling, rise to you shouldn’t have her face, not quite covering you shouldn’t have done that they’re clean, they shouldn’t be this clean—]
[Half the light in the sky dies. With a deafening splash, the beach is gone, bright sands subsumed by a sprawling, endless hallway, fading into dark. That one door is closed—but, just barely discernible from a distance, pitch leaks out the seams, as if the room’s already flooded. It pours into the “sea,” the difference in dark liquids negligible.]
Ah…
[Aubrey isn’t looking. She doesn’t have to.]
See him. Talk to him.
[She stares through Eren.] That’s all that’s left, isn’t it?
[Eren watches the sky darken, the familiar corridor appear. What is it behind that door that she keeps digging up? Last time they were here, she wanted to go behind it; he didn't allow that to happen. And he won't now.
[He's not entirely sure what strength he still possesses. When he died, he altered the body of all Eldians to rid them of their titan shifting abilities.
[Did that carry over to him? Here?]
Aubrey.
[Finally, he pushes himself up from the blood, still dripping.]
[Basil used to brush your hair. For such a thin little thing, his fingers could be rough; he spent a lot of time gardening, sometimes with his grandmother and sometimes (more often) alone, and after a good afternoon of weed-pulling, his nails were filthy. Sometimes when you watched him work, he tugged on stray grasses with such ferocity you’d think they shoved him around, called him names. You got it. Everyone needs an outlet.
[Besides, raised voices scared him. Lots of things did. Where you learned to fire back, he withered. He hated making people upset; even when your own roughhousing pushed him over, he could always stand back up with a smile. And whenever he caught a snag, he apologized. “Everything will be okay.” You wished you had a brother like him; he wished he had a sister like you. Neither of your parents cared to provide. But you had each other, and maybe that was enough.
[You made more friends, and introduced him to them, and that could have been enough.]
[He needed you, when Mari died.]
[You don’t remember the last time you saw him laugh, or smile, in a way that didn’t shake and quiver like cornered prey. So, after a while, you stopped turning his way altogether. But not before he aimed that pleading, wild look at you; desperate, tearful, sorry beyond words. Just defiant enough to sputter; just broken enough to infuriate you. You wouldn’t let him talk. You didn’t want to hear him. Over some stupid goddamn pictures—that you stole.
[An image: lakeside, evening. New friends leave; they don’t know what’s going on, that this lake isn’t yours alone to claim, because you have not let them know. Kel and Sunny see through you, and they won’t leave. You are sick to death of them. All of them. All of this. And Basil—Basil is cowering behind you, and it’s all his fault.
[Aubrey is on her knees. Her hands are an iron shackle around one of Eren’s, clasping; her head bowed; it’s a prayer. She doesn’t know what for. She doesn’t deserve to fall apart.]
I never saw him again.
[A final flash: a kind, soft boy slumped in the corner of his bedroom. The glimmer of scissored shears, blood in the moonlight. But there’s no gnawing shadow; just what should be on the inside, on the outside. Spilling, spreading, staining. Unbearably gentle. Yet so, so filthy.]
[Eren is so used to Aubrey being exposed to his memories. In the barracks, when he thought of Reiner, when he felt that overwhelming hatred, the cruel sting of betrayal, the painful longing of a first, lost love - Aubrey felt all of it.
[Eren feels this. Basil, his friend-- her friend. Someone she loved - maybe more than anything. Someone who needed her. Someone who hurt her with selfish actions - retribution that she took too far. The last time he saw him-- the last time she saw him, she carelessly pushed him into a lake. He reached out for her, searching for a lifeline, anything to feel like they could still have some semblance of the connection they'd once had - and she betrayed him, rejected him, hurt him so deeply that he never recovered.
[Eren remembers the feeling of Basil's neck snapping and feels sick. It's a terrible sight - what should be inside, out; gardening shears - gardening shears, dull and heavy and plunged into his guts.
[Yes, Eren knows this feeling. Eren knows what it means to take the life of a friend. Eren knows the weight of responsibility - for him, it's far heavier than the weight of 80%. He knows it so well. He knows it too well. He wants to see Basil. He wants to say he's sorry. For what? Throttling him like a doll? Or pushing him into a lake?
[He sinks to his knees beside Aubrey, tries to pull her close against his chest like he does when he can no longer bear the weight of how much he loves her. When he closes his eyes, he feels tears stinging.
[This is her sin. It's only one person - hardly 80% - but it matters. It matters more, maybe. It's the life of a friend. It doesn't feel inevitable. It doesn't feel pathetic. It feels real, and raw, and so uniquely painful that there's no denying its gravity.]
Aubrey...
[His voice is weak, as if he were the one mourning.]
[She lets him pull her close. It’s strange; Eren’s voice is weak and grieving, and Aubrey just feels… numb. Reliving it all like that… the (figurative) door enclosing Basil’s (very real) corpse is wide open now. Even if the world threw her back this instant, that’s a nightmare she’ll never wake up from, anywhere.
[This, for eighty percent? She’d drop dead from the goddamn shock.]
[Of coure Eren understands. Sure, there’s searing betrayal—get away. Get away. Get away. You betrayed me. Don’t fucking touch me—but in the end, that’s not what he wanted at all, was it? He laughed with Reiner, under the tree. He’s waiting for Armin, now. Doesn’t matter how much they shoved each other around before.
[They can regroup. Apologize. Commiserate. Find peace.
[Aubrey’s happy for him.]
Some atonement this is, huh…?
[Slumped on Eren like this, she sounds like she could sleep for a thousand years.]
[There's no atonement for something like this. Eren knows that very well. As disgusting as it may be, as wretched as it may be, as wrong as it may be - he can forgive himself more easily for destroying humanity than he ever could destroying a friend. That's where his atonement becomes impossible.
[Aubrey nods, a little. Curls into him. She’s not looking the door’s way, and never wants to again; right now, it feels like the only thing she should do.]
[Alerting himself to Basil's attention should be the last thing that Eren wants to do. Aubrey and he have endured a lot of trials in their short relationship, but this one, perhaps, would be the most difficult.
[Still. He recalls how it felt to see only a shadow of his mother again. "This is cruel." If he could only see the real her - if he could only say he was sorry, feel his face cupped by her warm hands once again...
[His friends. His comrades. Marco. The Levi Squad. Hannes. Everyone whose deaths his own selfish actions had caused...]
[She resists the small, knee-jerk urge to pull back. It hurt Eren last time she gave in to it.] Why? [But there’s doubt creeping into her voice now, and she doesn’t like that. The lean goes stiff.]
[It is; it is frustrating. Impatience, anger, anything like that; she could sink her teeth into it, for the same frustrating and unknown reason Eren went cold on her again.]
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For what.
[Absolution?]
Armin?
[Is that what you deserve?]
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[His eyes are on the horizon again, set in a glare now - not that she'll be able to see it, but maybe she can feel it.]
Armin.
["I'm not seeking absolution."]
I told him I would...
["I'll be waiting for you in Hell."]
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[Faintly the glare registers. It’s true; haven’t they said, through Hell and back, that questions like that don’t matter? Easier to brush off without bloodied hands.
[And yet, the core—that love, it persists. Aubrey’s; Eren’s; Armin’s. A full understanding, two ways; and for the outlier, half. Less than.]
That’s right…
You should talk to him.
[Where is he…?]
[Faintly, and not at all intentionally:
[Basil....]
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[His thoughts echo the ‘Where is he…?’, but the name that follows takes his attention away from Armin, however briefly.
[She still doesn’t know.
[Does she…?]
Why…are you thinking of that name now?
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[You weren’t supposed to hear that you weren’t supposed to hear that you weren’t supposed to hear that you]
I…
I don’t… [you weren’t supposed to Aubrey’s hands, stiff and trembling, rise to you shouldn’t have her face, not quite covering you shouldn’t have done that they’re clean, they shouldn’t be this clean—]
[Half the light in the sky dies. With a deafening splash, the beach is gone, bright sands subsumed by a sprawling, endless hallway, fading into dark. That one door is closed—but, just barely discernible from a distance, pitch leaks out the seams, as if the room’s already flooded. It pours into the “sea,” the difference in dark liquids negligible.]
Ah…
[Aubrey isn’t looking. She doesn’t have to.]
See him. Talk to him.
[She stares through Eren.] That’s all that’s left, isn’t it?
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[He's not entirely sure what strength he still possesses. When he died, he altered the body of all Eldians to rid them of their titan shifting abilities.
[Did that carry over to him? Here?]
Aubrey.
[Finally, he pushes himself up from the blood, still dripping.]
Don't.
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Wouldn’t that be atonement?
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Don't.
You don't need to atone for anything.
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[She startles at the sudden contact.]
It… it wasn’t inevitable, Eren.
[She backs away. Her arm tugs, but it’s not a strong effort.] You don’t understand. He reached out to me…
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[He tugs back on her arm - also not a strong effort.]
We said we want to know each other.
Tell me.
1/2 i’m so sorry about this pre-work cliffhanger
[Aubrey looks at him, hurting and desperate. He’s right. She said she would give him everything.]
[But it’s a false start. The world doesn’t need to take away her voice; she does, with her own strangled nerve.]
[Finally:] I’m sorry.
[She grabs his hand.]
2/3 surprise! nothing but memory
[Basil used to brush your hair. For such a thin little thing, his fingers could be rough; he spent a lot of time gardening, sometimes with his grandmother and sometimes (more often) alone, and after a good afternoon of weed-pulling, his nails were filthy. Sometimes when you watched him work, he tugged on stray grasses with such ferocity you’d think they shoved him around, called him names. You got it. Everyone needs an outlet.
[Besides, raised voices scared him. Lots of things did. Where you learned to fire back, he withered. He hated making people upset; even when your own roughhousing pushed him over, he could always stand back up with a smile. And whenever he caught a snag, he apologized. “Everything will be okay.” You wished you had a brother like him; he wished he had a sister like you. Neither of your parents cared to provide. But you had each other, and maybe that was enough.
[You made more friends, and introduced him to them, and that could have been enough.]
[He needed you, when Mari died.]
[You don’t remember the last time you saw him laugh, or smile, in a way that didn’t shake and quiver like cornered prey. So, after a while, you stopped turning his way altogether. But not before he aimed that pleading, wild look at you; desperate, tearful, sorry beyond words. Just defiant enough to sputter; just broken enough to infuriate you. You wouldn’t let him talk. You didn’t want to hear him. Over some stupid goddamn pictures—that you stole.
[An image: lakeside, evening. New friends leave; they don’t know what’s going on, that this lake isn’t yours alone to claim, because you have not let them know. Kel and Sunny see through you, and they won’t leave. You are sick to death of them. All of them. All of this. And Basil—Basil is cowering behind you, and it’s all his fault.
[5:46–7:23; no sooner, no later.]
[Splash.]
3/3 cw gore
[Aubrey is on her knees. Her hands are an iron shackle around one of Eren’s, clasping; her head bowed; it’s a prayer. She doesn’t know what for. She doesn’t deserve to fall apart.]
I never saw him again.
[A final flash: a kind, soft boy slumped in the corner of his bedroom. The glimmer of scissored shears, blood in the moonlight. But there’s no gnawing shadow; just what should be on the inside, on the outside. Spilling, spreading, staining. Unbearably gentle. Yet so, so filthy.]
Not alive.
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[Eren feels this. Basil, his friend-- her friend. Someone she loved - maybe more than anything. Someone who needed her. Someone who hurt her with selfish actions - retribution that she took too far. The last time he saw him-- the last time she saw him, she carelessly pushed him into a lake. He reached out for her, searching for a lifeline, anything to feel like they could still have some semblance of the connection they'd once had - and she betrayed him, rejected him, hurt him so deeply that he never recovered.
[Eren remembers the feeling of Basil's neck snapping and feels sick. It's a terrible sight - what should be inside, out; gardening shears - gardening shears, dull and heavy and plunged into his guts.
[Yes, Eren knows this feeling. Eren knows what it means to take the life of a friend. Eren knows the weight of responsibility - for him, it's far heavier than the weight of 80%. He knows it so well. He knows it too well. He wants to see Basil. He wants to say he's sorry. For what? Throttling him like a doll? Or pushing him into a lake?
[He sinks to his knees beside Aubrey, tries to pull her close against his chest like he does when he can no longer bear the weight of how much he loves her. When he closes his eyes, he feels tears stinging.
[This is her sin. It's only one person - hardly 80% - but it matters. It matters more, maybe. It's the life of a friend. It doesn't feel inevitable. It doesn't feel pathetic. It feels real, and raw, and so uniquely painful that there's no denying its gravity.]
Aubrey...
[His voice is weak, as if he were the one mourning.]
I understand...
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[She lets him pull her close. It’s strange; Eren’s voice is weak and grieving, and Aubrey just feels… numb. Reliving it all like that… the (figurative) door enclosing Basil’s (very real) corpse is wide open now. Even if the world threw her back this instant, that’s a nightmare she’ll never wake up from, anywhere.
[This, for eighty percent? She’d drop dead from the goddamn shock.]
[Of coure Eren understands. Sure, there’s searing betrayal—get away. Get away. Get away. You betrayed me. Don’t fucking touch me—but in the end, that’s not what he wanted at all, was it? He laughed with Reiner, under the tree. He’s waiting for Armin, now. Doesn’t matter how much they shoved each other around before.
[They can regroup. Apologize. Commiserate. Find peace.
[Aubrey’s happy for him.]
Some atonement this is, huh…?
[Slumped on Eren like this, she sounds like she could sleep for a thousand years.]
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[He gets it.]
Aubrey...
[He's still holding her. He doesn't let go.]
Is that...is he...what's behind that door?
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[Aubrey nods, a little. Curls into him. She’s not looking the door’s way, and never wants to again; right now, it feels like the only thing she should do.]
Yeah.
[Barely above a whisper.]
He is.
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[Still. He recalls how it felt to see only a shadow of his mother again. "This is cruel." If he could only see the real her - if he could only say he was sorry, feel his face cupped by her warm hands once again...
[His friends. His comrades. Marco. The Levi Squad. Hannes. Everyone whose deaths his own selfish actions had caused...]
Say something, Aubrey...
Tell him you're sorry.
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…What?
[She resists the small, knee-jerk urge to pull back. It hurt Eren last time she gave in to it.] Why? [But there’s doubt creeping into her voice now, and she doesn’t like that. The lean goes stiff.]
It wouldn’t change anything.
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[A dark, bitter thought, before she can counter it: Yeah? Are you going to apologize to the 80%?]
Sorry. [Without waiting for confirmation that he heard. Too intense not to.]
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This isn’t about me.
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It’s not.
But this… [One hand dips into that ocean of blood, lapping at their knees. The reach hardly feels like her own.] …is.
[She turns her head just enough to face him.]
We’re both good at deflecting, huh…?
[Or, as Reiner finished: full of shit.]
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The only one deflecting right now is you, Aubrey.
I’m trying to help.
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[It is; it is frustrating. Impatience, anger, anything like that; she could sink her teeth into it, for the same frustrating and unknown reason Eren went cold on her again.]
[It’s a cruelty that he doesn’t.]
He can’t hear it. What’s the point?
[I don’t want to.]
[She shuts her eyes, repulsed.]
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not here
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1/2 (maybe) here we goooo
2/3 haha
3/4 I LIED AGAIN
4/4
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I can’t believe I get to use this icon again
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2/2 (you may now know this familiar phrase)
(I do. kisses the bride I mean slang)
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1/4
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3/5 I meant
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1/2 keywords btw
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the most serious icon for the most serious number
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