@erudianokabe​​ //

every step out there sends those children into collapse. the beat of their hearts, theo can hear it. vibrations of a breaking point that he tips over the edge each and every day.

❝ so what you’re telling me is, an eldian soldier knows better than a dozen of marleyan officers. is that it? ❞ he remarks. there is contempt, but he mostly wants marcel to listen to himself carefully. as a man who’s supervised them for years —  recognizes every strength and weakness they own. ❝ braun’s got the morale, but that won’t be enough to wield one of the nine. and that brother of yours hasn’t had much we’ve needed to complain about. ❞ the fact was, porco galliard and reiner braun were close to an even match by the brass’ perspective. as much as the latter lacked the skill set, it didn’t matter in the long run if he was willing to stone-guard their motherland’s defense as intended.

but theo sees it in that young boy’s eyes. he’s saluting like a soldier, but no twelve-year-old child can ever hide their real intentions; especially when it involves family. that pulse thumping inside marcel, inside his cadet’s chest. it’s withering, on the verge of crumbling right then and there in front of their captain. the kid acts like he’s got a say in the matter, even when his superiors already have an idea of whom they’re going to select.

it’s not like theo doesn’t also want to see the next warriors come home after all this in one piece. but he’s the one sending them off to paradis in the first place. they could die the same by his orders, being the littlest they offer for all the unspeakable evils their predecessors unleashed.

that’s his job.

that’s their repentance.

❝ but it sounds like this has been on your mind for a while now. ❞ theo sighs. for what relief this gives the other, they can sleep happy this at least goes to the board. ❝ make it quick, marcel. if you truly have valuable information that concerns the last of our remaining warrior candidates, then i want to hear every detail you thought was critical enough to stop and warn me for. ❞

@erudianokabe​ //

a soft tug, falling against the fabric of a loose sleeve. eyes obscured by bangs, scanning the empty space, melancholic when they fail to find their answer. being watched over by eren is often a happy thing. ymir looks forward to whenever he stops by, a gentle expression tilting its head as she looks above at the other’s features. however, she can’t help but feel almost longing when someone is missing in his home. instinctive fingers at her free hand twirl around strands of her hair, imagining darker shades of ebony in its place; checking her surroundings one last time just in case she sees it. lips almost part to say the name. almost. but as always nothing comes out, silence forever remaining a more comfortable mouthpiece.

instead, both her hands go limp. ymir sits them neatly in the center of her lap, staring at a stray corner of the floor. attention raises up again. asking a question with her stare, hoping they understand what she means.

mikasa isn’t here?

@erudianokabe​​ [cont]

and that carla did. truthfully, serving the customers today exhausted her. she had been on the move since the early morning — carrying tray after tray, as expected during their busiest hours. even if it was for only a moment, catching a familiar face had broken the humdrum of the evening. although she was beginning to take notice of a certain man’s routine.

❝ keith-san, when are you plannin’ to come in with some friends once in a while? ❞ she badgered. carla may not have arrived immediately at his table, but, sure enough, he was still here while everything was slowing down. ❝ my hands are full tonight, so don’t go around botherin’ any of the poor drunkards here, okay? they might be too intoxicated and say yes this time. ❞ she’d already caught the few moments he got away with it.

persuading young men of what was beyond the walls, without ever reminding them of the carnage she’d seen return; the husbands and wives who would order only alcohol clutching a ripped survey corps’ emblem close.

carla sighed, filling keith’s tankard before setting it back down. her huffs softened, shades of hazel dipping into the other, a hand against her hip.

how keith could never simply rest and enjoy himself, she would never understand. 

Tags will go here ;; I am not done making this blog yet. Open, but i’m still figuring things out.