Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4211685.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Character:
      Erwin_Smith, Armin_Arlert, Eren_Jaeger, Mikasa_Ackerman, Levi_ackerman,
      Hanji_Zoe, lord_balto, Dario_Inocencio, Djel_Sanes, Nicholas_Lobov
  Additional Tags:
      Kidnapping, Humiliation, Gang_Rape, Torture, body_betrayal,
      Disembowelment, Transanal_Evisceration, Emasculation, flaying, canonverse
  Series:
      Part 6 of AD's_Drabbles_and_Snkkink_Meme_Fills
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-26 Completed: 2016-09-13 Chapters: 8/8 Words: 18804
****** Toy Soldier ******
by AlvaDomer, terminally_fated
Summary
     After a predator sets his sights on Armin Arlert at a military gala,
     Erwin Smith must rescue him before it becomes far too late.
Notes
     AD's notes: never download Hannibal from Pirate's Bay, guys, it's not
     worth it. But after four hours of removing viruses from my laptop, I
     can work on this story again! File under: more reasons why I'm a
     piece of shit. I promised I would do this months ago and I'm only
     just doing it even tho I had parts fully written out and someone had
     started it for me. I don't know who so unfortunately I can't give
     them proper credit, but the opening is their's. You'll probably be
     able to spot the style change, but that's what's fun about collabs.
     FI is going to help me with the ending, which I am so excited for. I
     can't warn you enough for the oncoming gore, which I will only
     slightly apologize for.
     More warnings for rape in the next chapter, so please be careful when
     reading this story.
     Hope you enjoy!
See the end of the work for more notes
***** See You Soon *****
                They arrive in the late morning. In plush, richly furnished
royal carriages that allow them to arrive well rested, clean, and refreshed
instead of exhausted from wind burn and sore after a taxing few days travel.
 
                They are here for the annual King's Ball. An exclusive, high
profile social event whose guest list only boasts of those with utmost
"political" status - understanding political status is a blatantly euphemized
title amongst the inner Wallists; political clout is obtained through money.
Politics have always bent to the whims of the privileged and wealthy. It is
corrupt fodder for the entitled upper class. The monarchy has made no show of
concealing this fact. Three Walls and the future of humanity in the balance be
damned. Human nature knows no bounds when it comes to greed.
 
                Erwin Smith may have grown up in Wall Sina, but the beauty and
abundance in the capitol has always been an illusion to his astute
observations. Stohess was a city deluded to the war against the titans; the
ongoing ravage to their land and resources; and the imminent threat of death
that plagued the streets of outer districts. The citizens of the capitol had
locked themselves away in a gold gilded cage; sought comfort in this century-
old facade while the impoverished disenfranchised youth existing on the fringes
of "polite society" marched to their deaths by the thousands in their place.
 
                Prostitution and slavery flourished in the outer Walls as the
masses fought for whatever money and power they could collect in the midst of
war and death. The exploitation of the vulnerable only spiking higher after the
fall of Wall Maria brought an onslaught of destitute refugees. But Erwin had
witnessed humanity in its ugliest, truest form while calling himself a citizen
of Sina. The son of a respectable merchant.
 
                Without his father’s consent, a young Erwin - loyal to his
patriarch but defiant towards societal expectations - burgeoning on adulthood
and full of potential had run away from what he knew and disobeyed what was
expected of him to enlist in the military academy. Using his father's trade
route maps (which he had stolen), he had traveled through two Walls, leaving
behind social debuts and cotillions; approved courtships and complimentary
unions; and higher education and business apprenticeships, determined to rise
through the ranks at a time when enrolling in the military was considered
culturally uncouth.
 
                It was another stunning day in the capitol. The sun shone down
brilliantly on the white marble government buildings making them shimmer like
precious minerals. The signature rose bushes, indigenous to Stohess,
distinguished by their lovely shade of fuchsia and thornless branches, seemed
to sparkle under crystal clear blue skies, their aesthetic as vibrant and
alluring as ever.
 
                Erwin rarely traveled to the Capitol when it was not required.
But on many occasions he would have to make the long journey to secure at least
the pretense of allegiance to the crown, and most importantly, acquire funds
for expeditions. This was why Erwin could not refuse when such an advantageous
opportunity arrived at Survey Corps headquarters in the form of a freshly
sealed invitation to the annual affair.
 
                Although Erwin had long since been attending the function, the
Survey Corps have never been welcomed as the honored guests.
 
                The King's Ball had first been instated two monarchs ago: when
the Walls had been standing for a mere decade. King Rufus had decided to put
more value into the military, conceding that their worth was greater than three
square meals a day and cramped quarters to sleep in if their purpose, if
successful, would render the protection of the Walls obsolete. So, by royal
decree, every spring one division of the military would be honored at the
palace. It was supposed to garner allegiance towards the benevolent monarch and
show support of the military's endeavors on the King's behalf.
 
                Historically, the architects who had originally designed the
concept of the interconnected Walls had not intended for them to be regarded as
a permanent solution. Much faith was put into military strategy and the
intellectual innovation of scholars and other bright minds to come up with a
working solution. But history and noble intentions meant for the greater good
of all tend to twist in on itself.
 
                One hundred years later, and now the Wallists pose as a
perfunctory religious group (cult) who sanction the creation of the Walls to be
holy and sacred. Banning "blasphemous literature and texts" and punishing those
who wish to learn about the wonders and accomplishments of the outside world.
 
                If Erwin Smith were not Commander of the Survey Corps, he would
have marveled at the unparalleled beauty of Sina as they rode through the
palace gates.
 
                Unfortunately, that was not the case. At least he could
maintain an impenetrable façade of goodwill. But his lance corporal sat beside
him, arms across his chest, ankle crossed over his knee, scowling as the
perfect portrait of loathing personified.
 
                “Remember Levi, we need you to play nice,” Hanji snickered,
earning a disgusted grunt and a kick to her boot.
 
                “Not that a doubt your self-control,” Erwin started carefully,
“but I would appreciate it if you would give extra care to your behavior this
evening.” And your language, and your manner of dress, and…we should have spent
more time practicing dining habits…
 
                “Fuck you both, I’m not going to kill anyone,” Levi snorted,
leaning back in his seat. He didn’t sever his stare from Hanji. “If anything,
Erwin should be worried about you pissing yourself once you get too excited
about your research.” Erwin withheld a sigh. He could only imagine what was
occurring in the children's carriage.
 
                Well, he called them children, but Erwin knew they were
anything but. That trio had gone through the proper Survey Corps initiation
(Hell) and proven themselves just as competent as any of his soldiers. Of
course the major qualification to be considered competent was simply returning
from the battle field alive. And yet he amused himself as Levi and Hanji began
bickering with images of what that impulsive Jaeger boy must be doing at the
moment. Without Arlert and Ackerman, the aforementioned carriage would probably
already be on fire.
 
                These thoughts continued for the next few minutes it took for
the carriages to roll to a halt, and he adjusted his gold jacquard jacket cuffs
before stepping out into the blinding light.
 
                Eren threw open the door and stepped off the foot ladder,
skipping the last step and hopping to the ground. He stretched with a
melodramatic yawn, peering around through one eye. “Ya’ know, this place is
pretty nice when it’s not smashed to Hell.” Erwin contained the need to pinch
his nose bridge. Apparently Levi wasn’t the only one who should have been
further coached on manners. Still, their interactions put a small smile on his
face.
 
                “Need I remind you how it got that way?” Armin teased, making
Mikasa hide a snicker behind her scarf.
 
                “Hey, I got Annie!” Eren cried indignantly, and Erwin’s smile
grew wider as he heard Levi snort behind him. This is going to be interesting.
 
                “Alright everyone, you know the drill. When anyone asks you any
questions, answer quickly and politely,” Erwin made sure to glance at Hanji to
further his point. “I expect the utmost responsibility from each of you.” There
was plenty more he wanted to add, but he didn’t feel as though now was a good
time to start another speech. “Eren, you just have to smile and shake a few
hands and then you can roam around with your friends,” Erwin finished
decisively.
 
                With a crisp salute and sharp, “Yes sir!” from Eren, Erwin led
them up the marble stairs and into the grand ballroom.
 
                Rolling his shoulders back, Erwin dawned his most confident
smirk, ignoring the stunned gasps from the recruits trailing after him. He knew
even Levi still managed to be shocked by the overwhelming opulence these
parties never failed to possess. Hanji was the only other who seemed truly
comfortable, breaking away instantly to find her first victim stupid enough to
ask about her research. She floated off amongst the countesses and baronesses
who blushed at Erwin from behind their fans, ignoring all disdained glances.
 
                “I did remember to inform you that you are, in fact, allowed to
leave, did I not?” Erwin asked his culture-shocked recruits. All three pairs of
young eyes were trained on the long tables heaping with piles of absolute
delicacies. He didn’t want to wonder how long it had been since any of them had
eaten any real meat instead of military gruel.
 
                “We’ll wait for Eren,” Armin sighed almost dreamily, along with
Mikasa’s resolute nod.
 
                “Erwin Smith, it’s always a surprise to see you here!” the
first passive aggressive noble suddenly launched his assault, seeming to appear
out of nowhere. The lack of title wasn’t missed by any of them.
 
                “It would be a lie if I did not say the same,” Erwin replied
fluidly, closing his eyes in a silent prayer for patience. His subordinates
witnessing the lack of respect he would receive had been carefully calculated
when he was considering who he would bring. Hopefully this wouldn’t give them
any ideas.
 
                “And who is this you have with you?” the noble continued, all
but sneering down at the cadets.
 
                Eren took that as his cue, stepping forward with a hand
outstretched. “My name is Eren Jaeger! I’m a cadet with the Survey Corps, and
it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Perfectly recited. This might go better than
Erwin had dared to hope.
 
                He turned to his captain. “Levi, would you stop a waiter for
us? This man needs some champagne.”
 
                                       …
                                        
                Erwin forced Eren to greet at least a dozen different pigs the
same way before he finally let the boy run off with his friends. None of them
had taken the bait when so blatantly disrespected by the Sina snobs, which,
when considering Cadet Jaeger, was more than he could ever ask for.
 
                As he waited for Levi to return with another plateful of
freshwater prawn, a voice announced enthusiastically, “Commander Smith! What a
pleasure to finally meet you!” Erwin couldn’t help but wonder if another
Commander Smith had been invited; he was not accustomed to being greeted
so…positively. He turned to meet what he hoped could soon be converted into one
of their sparse sponsors.
 
                Standing before him was round faced, balding man with no lack
of fat that displayed his wealth more than his frilled silk clothing ever
could. “The pleasure is all mine,” Erwin replied smoothly, offering up a
handshake and his all too charismatic smile.
 
                “Oh, where are my manners! Lord Balto, in the flesh,” the noble
introduced himself cheerfully, returning the gesture vigorously. Erwin never
even blinked, but he was sure his pupils shrunk at the name. Balto was no
outsider to politics. As the new head of the Merchant’s Guild, this was an
opportunity Erwin could not allow to slip from his grasp.
 
                “It’s an honor,” Erwin purred, bowing his head in false
submission. He was sure if Levi ever got a glance of doing this, he would
promptly punch Erwin out. But Erwin had royal ass-kissing down to an art form,
and unfortunately, abandoning his own pride was part of the process.
 
               “I realize that the Survey Corps is always looking for
financers,” the lord explained pleasantly.
 
                This was already going much better than Erwin could have ever
hoped, and he tried to disguise his eagerness. “That is all too true.” He
evenly matched Balto’s tone.
 
                “I would love to be of assistance.” He motioned to the group of
soldiers gathered near a dessert display. “How much for the blonde boy? Name
the price, I must have him.”
 
                What? Erwin stomach dropped, taking several seconds to process
before he finally glanced over at his newest recruits. Armin was laughing along
with his adopted siblings, oblivious to this predator that stood only several
feet away. The trio clinked glasses, toasting to something before downing the
sparkling liquid.
 
                “Although I’m sure he would be rather flattered by your
attraction, my Scouts are not for sale,” Erwin explained politely. It was
taking every ounce of willpower not to shatter the glass in his hand—preferably
on this noble’s skull.
 
                Balto’s smile died instantly. An ugly frown settled beneath his
curled mustache, gray eyes hardening with the childish anger of being denied a
new toy. “Are you sure?” the lord asked, deadpan. After facing beasts over
forty feet tall, this attempt at intimidation was almost endearing. Erwin had
no problem giving him a nod, going so far as to plaster a mockingly apologetic
smile on his face. “Well,” Balto grunted stiffly, “that’s a shame.” With that,
he turned to waddle away.
 
                “I enjoyed our chat,” Erwin called after him, raising his glass
with a smirk. Balto stiffened for a moment, and then must have decided a lowly
soldier wasn’t worth tarnishing his reputation with whatever outburst he may
have considered.
 
                “He looked pissed. You finally tell him to slaughter the goat
he’s been fucking?” Levi’s guesses were getting more creative with each royal
event.
 
                “I doubt a man of his stature has ever heard the word ‘no’ in
his life,” Erwin scoffed, glancing down at his pocket watch. They still had
hours to go.
 
                “What’d you deny him this time?” Tilting his wine glass, Levi
added, “Don’t give him your ass, no matter how much he offers.” Erwin let out a
bitter chuckle, raising his brows.
 
                “Close. He just tried to purchase Arlert,” Erwin explained
dryly, watching Levi’s eyes blow wide.
 
                “No shit?” Levi always was eloquent when he was surprised.
Erwin shook his head. “What the hell! Why would—Erwin?” He had been trying to
pay attention, but looking over Levi’s head, Erwin all too clearly saw Balto
approaching Armin directly. “Erwin, what—fuck.” Levi glanced over his shoulder
to see the nobleman clap a friendly hand on Armin’s shoulder.
 
                The rage boiling in his chest was one Erwin had never
experienced. A foreign hatred, an absolute and total loathing he couldn’t quite
name. Paternal. The sudden thought almost horrified him. Watching Balto attempt
to strike up a conversation was like watching someone attack his own child. On
the battlefield, there was nothing he could do. But Erwin would be damned if he
couldn’t protect his own soldiers off it too.
 
                Placing his glass on a waiter’s empty tray, mostly so that it
would not end up being used as a weapon, Erwin stalked toward them.
 
                “What’s your name, soldier?” Balto was asking, finally pulling
away from the sickening touch.
 
                “Armin Arlert, sir. I’m a cadet in the Survey Corps,” Armin
chirped with practiced ease. Eren and Mikasa smiled on, protective but unaware.
 
                “If you have any questions about my militia, you may address
them to me directly,” Erwin interrupted, stepping in front of Armin
protectively. Balto scowled up at him, obviously trying his best to not look
intimidated by Erwin’s looming form.
 
                “I was asking them very specific questions,” Balto hissed,
motioning to all three cadets. Bullshit, Erwin wanted to snarl. This disgusting
creature couldn’t have cared less about Ackerman or Jaeger. It was all about
innocent little Arlert. As if to prove Erwin’s suspicions even further, Balto
looked through Erwin to ask, “How many expeditions have you been on, young
man?”
 
                It took a moment for Armin to realize he was the one being
spoken to. “Oh! I’ve been in four direct engagements with Titans, sir,” the
blonde replied, maintaining his composure despite the electrifying tension in
the air.
 
                “How fascinating,” Balto replied, no shortage of patronization
in his voice. “I feel as though luck were on my side, allowing us to meet
today.” When Balto’s hand made its way back toward Armin’s shoulder, Erwin
nearly snapped his wrist.
 
                “Likewise,” Armin returned with none of the sentiment. Erwin
didn’t doubt that the teen had some vague idea of why he was receiving such
unsettling attention, but he wasn’t about to be the one to explain it all. In
fact, it would be better if Erwin’s earlier discussion was avoided entirely.
Arlert didn’t need to be so unnerved.
 
                Balto opened his mouth, but Erwin cut him off with a blunt,
“That’s enough.”
 
                “Of course,” Balto sneered, seeming far too pleased with
himself. He glanced around Erwin, locking eyes with Armin before purring, “I
look forward to seeing you soon.”
***** Hand to Hand *****
Chapter Summary
     OKAY. So I am in a foreign country right now, and will be for the
     next 17 days. That means I have no access to a computer and extremely
     limited internet access. So I deeply apologize in advance for how
     this chapter looks, because this is my first time attempting an
     update from my phone;;; I have no idea how this will turn out, so
     thank you all for your patience and understanding!
"I'm proud of all three of you for the way you handled yourselves today," the
commander was praising proudly outside a tavern beside their inn. "Eren, you
did an exceptional job maintaining your discipline."
 
"Thank you, sir!" Eren piped, and Armin heard the lance corporal snort.
 
"Mikasa, excellent work with the impromptu sword display. You managed to
impress more investors in an hour than I have in a month."
 
She opened her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by a blunt, "That's
because those inbred blue bloods need a show."
 
The commander let out a small sigh. "Levi, at least pretend you have an once of
respect for them."
Lance Corporal Levi's reply was broken off by harsh coughing, caused by Captain
Hanji's powerful slap to his back. "Aww, he's just jealous because you're not
praising him!" she laughed.
 
Lance CorporalLevi jealous?The idea was so absurd that Armin was hardly able to
choke down his laugh. The corners of Mikasa's mouth were twitching, and Armin
could hear Eren's laugh bubbling in his throat.
 
"Don't worry, I will be sure to reward each of you accordingly," Commander
Erwin replied calmly before leaning down to their captain's ear. Armin couldn't
hear the whispered words and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

The lance corporal only replied with what sounded suspiciously like, "You
fucking pervert."
 
Eren looked completely lost. "What do you me--" he started curiously.
 
"You know who could go for a drink?!" Hanji suddenly shouted, "I could! Who's
with me?!"
 
Smooth save, Armin wanted to snicker, but he held his tongue as he had done
throughout the day. At least Eren was distracted.
 
"Can I come?" Eren chirped, and Mikasa immediately frowned.
 
"I don't see why not, kiddo!" Hanji glanced at Erwin's slight-but-present
disapproving frown. "What? Everyone here is legal age and I think they've
earned it."
 
"Fuck yeah!" Eren blurted, and then balked instantly. "I uh," he mumbled,
looking at each of his commanding officers sheepishly, "I mean, that would be
great."
 
"You just want data on whether a Titan shifter can get drunk," Levi scoffed,
leaning his weight on one leg.
 
Shaking his head, Commander Erwin gave in with a tired, "Eren? Mikasa? Armin?
You're all welcome if you wish."
 
Mikasa looked like she wanted nothing more than to decline, but Eren's shining
eyes and eager grin were much too powerful. "Sure," she replied brusquely, and
Eren grabbed her arm, dragging her inside.
 
As the others turned to follow, Erwin glanced back at Armin. "Are you planning
to join us?"
 
Armin forced himself to maintain eye contact. "If you wouldn't mind, sir, I'd
rather bathe until I can scrub that man's gaze off me," he admitted, trying not
to squirm at the memory.
 
At least the commander didn't look surprised. "Of course," Erwin assured him,
his expression almost pitying. "You did an admirable job today, putting on that
brave face," he murmured, giving Armin's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
 
With that, he followed after his subordinates, giving Armin one last
sympathetic smile over his shoulder.
 
Armin all but rushed into the inn, quickly hunting down a chambermaid.
 
It took two grown men from behind the bar to manage all four flights of stairs,
heaving what looked to be an impossibly heavy oaken tug with them.
 
"Thank you so much," Armin repeated over and over as they set it down in the
restroom with a grunt. He had offered to help, but both men had glanced him
over and scoffed. If they didn't want his help, so be it, he wasn't about to
take his dress coat off to prove himself.
 
Armin had learned to stop trying to prove himself a long time ago.
 
After adding water and extra to his tip as an apology for the work, he locked
the door.
 
He couldn't take his clothes off fast enough. When was the last time I got a
proper bath? Armin wondered, flinging his uniform aside. Not a splash in the
stream, not a combat shower, but a real bath with a tub and warm water. He
stepped in slowly, savoring the feeling. The fire beneath had barely begun to
make a difference, but he didn't care. This is so much nicer than HQ, he
thought, almost giddy. The refugee camps had taught him to savor even the
smallest luxuries.
 
Armin let out a sigh, sinking lower in the tub so that his breath turned into
bubbles. With the water resting just beneath his eyes, he closed them, humming
with content.
 
His eyes suddenly burst back open at an all too familiar feeling. Steel at his
throat. A coarse, callous hand clapped over his mouth.
 
"Don't scream and we won't have to kill you," a voice wrecked by alcohol
growled in his ear. Armin gave him a single, curt nod.
 
Keep your eyes wide, breathe quickly, look scared. You can do this, Armin
reminded himself, balling his hands into fists. This man had said 'we', so
there were obviously more of them. But how many?
 
He was completely exposed. He needed a weapon. He was against at least two or
three grown men.
 
You can do this.
 
"Now get out of there slowly, hands in the air," the man commanded, words kept
low and dangerous. "Try anything and we'll leave you in this tub with a slit
throat. Understand?"
 
Armin gave another minute nod. "Good," another voice joined in, "not a sound."
 
The first man's hand pulled away and Armin kept his face forward. Climbing out
cautiously, he tried not to focus on the sensation of the beads of water
rolling down his exposed body. Don't think about it. Focus on escape, he
scolded, remaining still.
 
The point of the knife returned to his body, this time pressing into his spine.
Now.
 
He snatched the man's wrist, spinning around to face him. Armin didn't bother
with eye contact now. Once, twice, three times he drove his knee into the man's
gut. Boom, boom, boom, boom, his heartbeat was bombs bursting in his ears.
 
The man fell to his knees. Armin still had his wrist in his hand, easily being
the man's arm back as he fell. The was a sickening CRACK, and the man let out a
horrifying scream that Armin could hardly hear over his own rushing pulse. He
easily ripped the knife from the man's hand, spreading his stance for extra
balance.
 
No thought, only action. Training had kicked in on its own, and now a man twice
his size was sobbing on the floor with a broken arm in less than ten seconds.
 
Just because he was naked didn't mean he was vulnerable. And the two other men,
a blonde and a brunette--so his gestimate was close--were obviously stunned by
the fact. Jaws dropped, eyes blown wide, Armin's two potential attackers
remained frozen in place.
 
"You shouldn't have done that k--" the brunette started, charging with a fist.
No knife. They're taking me alive. With their objective known, Armin smiled.
That meant they were going to try to go easy on him.
 
He grabbed this man's wrist just as easily, pulling him forward using the
brunette's own momentum. A wave of fiery pain as his knuckles smashed into the
man's jaw. Just a fracture, Armin thought instantly, swallowing his cry as the
man howled. Several molars went soaring across the room, clattering against the
floorboards as he too hit the ground.
 
No one's going to hear this, Armin realized. Even the thud of a large body
wouldn't bring anyone running when he was on the fourth floor. But that didn't
mean he couldn't take this last man out.
 
"What...what the hell," the blond man was sputtering, staring at his comrades
in shock. "You stupid fucking brat, you're gonna--" he began, rushing in an
overflow of emotion not unlike Eren.
 
Armin threw a light punch to his temple--a distraction. When the older blond's
fists shot up for a block, Armin charged. Driving his head into the man's
kidney, Armin saw the fist out of the corner of his eye. A dodge, a swerve,
adrenaline drenching every nerve; and then he took hold of the man's leg and
and pushed forward.
 
Already off-balance, the older blond was simple to take down. Knife still in
hand, Armin glanced down in it. Pointless deaths were frowned upon in the
Survey Corps. He shouldn't kill them if he didn't have--
 
With a dull thud, a blade handle collided with the back of Armin's skull.
 
Five pounds. Five pounds of pressure to the back of the head was all it took to
kill someone. Was he dead?! There was nothing but blackness, no discernible
shape to be seen. He couldn't feel so much as his fingers.
 
No, no, I'm alive. If I'm still thinking, I'm still existing. Then what was it?
Was he blind? Paralyzed?! Stay calm. He couldn't allow his mind to get the best
of him. Not now.
 
Spotty vision, swirling forms, melded colors limped into blurry view. Where am
I? How much ti--The tub came back into view, followed by sensation in his feet.
So they were still in the bathroom, but as feeling returned to his body, Armin
became aware that he was being held upright.
 
The sting of cheap rope against his wrists and ankles finally registered, and
it was only then that he realized there was something in between his teeth. A
gag?! No, he wouldn't let them take him like this! Countless hours had been
dedicated to self defense, he couldn't be beaten so quickly now!
 
"relax, kid, we're just going for a ride," the older blond sneered, heaving
Armin over his shoulder without hesitation.
 
"NNN! NNN!" Armin tried to scream, staring over the man's back in horror. The
other two had managed to scrape themselves off the floor, both looking ready to
do much more than 'go for a ride'.
 
How were they even planning on getting down to the ground floor?!When we get
out into the hall, I'll-- Armin already began forming his next escape plan. He
couldn't allow himself to become so easily shaken.Wait, what are they--?
 
All three went the opposite direction of the door, heaving instead for a narrow
window. No! That explained the ropes around each of their waists--tethers. So
they had managed to rapple up to his room?! But why--how--
 
Armin began losing himself to fear, thoughts becoming frantic and disjointed as
his wet skin hit the frigid October air.
 
“EE-EN! EE-EN!” he shrieked through the cloth desperately, watching the white
wisps of his breath rise before his eyes. Eren, Mikasa, his commanding
officers, they were all so close! Someone had to see him, hear him, something!
Armin began wriggling violently, hardly giving a thought to the fall that was
getting shorter and shorter. Trembling from both terror and cold, all he wanted
was freedom, no matter how deadly the cobblestone drop.
 
He jerked as boots hit the pavement, and the last thing he saw was the startled
face of a servant staring through the window straight at him. Wooden doors
slammed shut, and the carriage bolted off down the street.
***** Broken *****
Chapter Summary
     Armin becomes the plaything of monsters.
Chapter Notes
     *The Bitch is Back blasts in the distance*
     For real tho, very serious warning about extremely graphic rape.
     Please read with caution.
     P.S. yes, I know I'm mixing characters from different story arches
     but come on, are any of them really above doing this.
     P.P.S. Happy belated writers celebration thing that they were doing
     on Tumblr <3
               It's okay, it's okay, I'm going to be okay. Eren and Mikasa
probably noticed I'm gone already! Armin reasoned frantically as he was jostled
on the floor by every turn of the carriage. A strip of cloth had been tied over
his eyes as if it would make a difference.
 
               But that was manageable, rescue would come in the blink of an
eye! Eren will slaughter them as violently as possible. He told himself
anything to keep his mind away the fact that he was naked and surrounded by
strange men. If he hadn't been packed in like a sardine with up to twelve boys
for the past four years of his life, Armin was sure he would have complete
crumbled already.
 
               But his heart still thundered in his chest, threatening to break
through his rib cage; roared in his ears, trying to burst through his eardrums.
It felt as though that sound was everywhere, able to hear the rush of every
single pump of blood.
 
               Iknow this feeling.
 
               Titans.
 
               Armin had felt this in one scenario and one alone: the
battlefield. His raging pulse, the way his veins itched with each throb of his
heart even though he knew it was all in his head; a unique, wild fear that
tested his sanity with each thud in his chest.
 
               Wait. No. This wasn't the field. Yes he could hardly control his
own breath, could feel his own fingers trembling against his back, but this
wasn't the battlefield. These men weren't Titans. They were disgusting, ugly,
horrible humans. And humans were weak.
 
               Armin of all people knew that.
 
               So he closed his eyes, counting to ten with each breath. Rapid
images of Eren flashed before him, watching him rise up, caked in his own blood
to save his best friend. Then Mikasa, flying through the air, striking down
monsters with glinting steel and vibrant sprays of blood.
 
               They had to have been scared, and so was he. There was no
denying it, no matter how much Armin concentrated on breathing. But they could
rise up against Titans, Death personified.
 
               Humans were nothing compared to that.
 
               So yes, he was still scared, but Armin knew he didn't have to
stay prisoner. He fought beside his friends, he knew that now, and he wouldn't
go back to having to wait for them to save him ever again.
 
               Swallowing hard, Armin glanced up at the door handle, testing
his bonds as subtly as possible. But it hardly seemed plausible that he would
be able to move fast enough. And what would he use to turn the handle, his
mouth? How would that work with a gag in the way?
 
               And if he managed to escape? Depending on his location, that
could do more harm than good. Where am I? he wondered, counting each breath to
keep himself calm. Armin suddenly rolled again as they were tilted at an angle,
obviously rolling down some sort of hill. From the floor it was impossible to
tell where. Underground? he mused half heartedly. It didn't matter, he would
escape as soon as possible.
 
               As soon as they stopped with a jolt, the men came to life. Calls
of, "Watch his legs" and "be ready, he's a fighter" were exchanged as Armin
felt hands at his shoulders, ankles, neck, waist; indistinguishable, hands
everywhere.
 
               Save your breath. He knew he was outnumbered, and with the way
he was tied down, thrashing about would only give him rope burn; at best, they
might accidentally drop him, but Armin would just hit his head and then get
picked right back up.
 
               There was a time to fight back, and this wasn't it.
 
               The click of a door, the bounce of walking down steps, and
suddenly the cloth was ripped from his eyes. Armin withheld his pained cry as
his vision became nothing but white.
 
               Blinking rapidly, the underground room came into view.
 
               His stomach dropped.
 
               Despite being below the earth, the chambers were by no means
lacking the lavish design of the ballroom above. Armin knew the ballroom was
there, because standing before him was a man whose touch he wanted to scrape
off his body. Lord Balto.
 
               His smile was as unnerving as every aspect of this glorified
dungeon. Floor to wall white marble, with intricately gilded columns of shining
gold.
 
               But Armin's gaze was drawn far beyond that. His focus was
trapped by the choice of decor. Grand tapestries hung upon the walls, their
threaded colors telling the stories of shockingly violent, sexual acts. And
still there were other spaces upon the marble taken up by life-sized paintings
that were the completely wrong type of breathtaking. The images held within
their palette only had Armin tasting bile.
 
               And the shelves. What even were those? The items resting upon
each shelf seemed to be a...Armin felt pinpricks of heat across his face. Each
of the items looked unmistakably like a phallus.
 
               He simply forgot to struggle in the face of thick leather whips
dangling from the walls; the heavy wooden paddles and sharp steel hooks. Each
guess for their purpose was worse than the last.
 
               "Just leave him on the bed and let yourselves out," Balto
ordered much too calmly, motioning beside him. This room, his behavior, the man
was clearly mad!
 
               Armin felt his resolve slipping. A serial killer would hardly go
through such theatrics for one victim, would they? So it was highly unlikely
for him to be killed. He isn't going to eat me, is he?! That was just as
plausible. This was a bedroom, not a kitchen. He continued to reason through
his own deluded ideas as he was thrown down onto the downfeather mattress with
an "Oompf!", squirming uselessly against his bonds.
 
               Lifting his head from the silken sheets, Armin glanced around
distractedly. Four plush chairs were angled at each corner of the bed, as if
for...
 
               Spectators.
 
               That couldn't be right! But it would explain the taboo artwork
flaunted across the walls, and certainly provide reason for all the dicks on
the shelves. But with a boy? A soldier?! That didn't--
 
               The door slamming shut jerked Armin out of the horrifying
epiphany he was hoping he got wrong. The fat, pale fingers sliding over his
thigh said otherwise.
 
               "Simply exquisite," Balto gasped, admiration and something much
more sinister shining in his eyes. "I have plenty in store for you," he said,
his voice taking on a strange sort of softness, almost adoration. I have to get
out of here.
 
               "It's a shame the good commander didn't take my offer when he
had the chance," Balto continued as he tottered over to one of the end tables
beside a chair. He opened a box of chestnut, and inside, resting on a pillow of
satin, was one of the cruelest looking blades Armin had ever seen.
 
               Breathe, just breathe, Armin told himself over and over. He
needed to stay calm, even as the knife came toward him. It was highly unlikely
the noble would go through so much trouble to bring him here if his only goal
was to stab him.
 
               So he didn't allow himself to whimper, or try to beg for mercy
through the gag. Armin simply waited with wide eyes, praying to whatever god he
was right.
 
               Whatever pretense of what might have been kindness melted away
in a heartbeat. "Such pretty legs should never be closed," Balto sneered, and
Armin held back a sigh of relief as the man dragged the teeth of the blade
through the rope at his ankles.
 
               That was all Armin needed.
 
               His feet shot out, kicking Balto square in the chest. The chubby
man lurched back, nearly falling to the floor. Armin brought his knees to his
chest, curling his body so he could loop his bound wrists beneath him. With his
hands now at the front of his body, he easily tore off the gag and rolled off
the bed.
 
               "HELP ME! HELP ME, SOMEONE! ANYONE, HELP!" Armin shrieked,
darting for the door. He was small and slight, but a trained soldier could
still easily outrun a pathetic excuse of man like Balto.
 
               He darted up the marble steps and yanked open the cellar door.
Armin didn't even care that he was naked, as long as he could escape he didn't
mind having to ask for help.
 
               But instead of racing out into the labyrinth of a mansion, he
ran headlong into another extremely startled noble.
 
               Armin stumbled back, voice quivering as much as his body as he
blurted, "You have to help me! Balto, he's a kidnapper!" He waved his tied
wrists to further prove his point.
 
               The stranger's parted lips slowly shut into a sympathetic smile.
"Is that so?" he hummed in a way that made Armin take several steps back. Why
wasn't this man surprised--horrified, even? What was with that look on his
face?
 
               Armin let out a scream as arms suddenly wrapped around his
chest, dragging him back down the steps. "I don't appreciate my guests leaving
before they're excused," Balto hissed in his ear as Armin kicked and shrieked.
 
               "Help me! HELP ME, PLEASE! Can't you see he's insane?!" Armin
screeched, ramming his bony elbows into Balto's ribs.
 
               "Sorry we're late," a new voice announced calmly as a new man
stepped up behind the original stranger. He was followed by another, in an MP's
uniform no less, making four men in total.
 
               Why weren't any of these three helping him?! He was all too
clearly being held against his will! Yet they didn't seem to bat an eye at the
bare child soldier fighting and screaming directly in front of them.
 
               "Please, do something!" Armin wailed as he was brought back to
the center of the room. Jesus Christ, were they laughing?!
 
               "You found a cute one," the first stranger crooned as Armin's
face was shoved down into the mattress.
 
               "Picked him up after the gala," Balto informed them proudly,
obviously struggling with holding even someone as lithe as Armin down. "Calm
down beautiful, I want to introduce you to these nice men."
 
               Armin could barely see from where he was forced into the pillow,
but he knew this had gone from bad to impossibly worse. Eren?! Mikasa?! Now
would be the time!
 
               "Meet my good friends, Lord Innocencio," Balto waved to a
taller, even fatter, bearded man taking a seat, "Lord Lobov," a wizened old man
with chalk white hair and lines etched deeply into his face, "and Officer
Sanes," a man with cracks in his face almost as deep as Lobov's, despite
clearly being in his thirties at the latest. "They're going to treat you as
kindly as you treat them, so play nice."
 
               "Don't patronize me." Where did that come from?! Every man
seemed to be having the same thought as Armin, despite the words coming from
his own mouth. But he had already set the tone, might as well roll with it. He
had crafted false bravery as finely as Commander Erwin had submission. "You
don't think I know what I'm here for?" I mean Ithink I know, but I've never
wanted to be more wrong. "By now my squad knows I'm gone." The men were
glancing at each other, both amused and slightly startled. "You don't think
this is the first place they'll look? And when they find us, because they will,
you'll have to answer to the commander of the Survey Corps and his lance
corporal."
 
               Fear was a good look on these creeps. Armin was horrible at a
lot of things, but bluffing wasn't one of them. He knew he wasn't wrong, the
commander had seen how uncomfortable Balto had made him feel.
 
               When. It was all a matter of when.
 
               Balto's answer came in the form of a quick shove onto his back
and a fist in his gut. "Nice try, sweetheart, but even the government's elite
can't help you now." Pig fat and grease reeked from Balto's teeth as his hissed
in Armin's ear, "You think they care about you? Any of them? You're a soldier.
Expendable--no, not even that. Look at you, stretched out on my bed like a
pretty little whore. That's more suiting."
 
               Armin could hear his heartbeat in his ears as Balto began to
climb over him, hands at either side of his skull.
 
               "Acting as untouchable as a princess while naked as a slut. I
can't wait to pop your sweet cherry."
 
               Armin's mind was a blank slate, white noise, an empty useless
vessel only registering their ugly laughter.
 
               "That's right, beautiful. We're going to make you cum until you
scream," Balto purred, reaching out a hand. As a small silver vial was passed
over, Armin remained numb.
 
               We. That's all he could possibly understand. Every other word
slid over him as silent and unabsorbed as a shadow. We. A red face bright with
embarrassment give way to pale-faced fear. The blood had abandoned his brain.
He couldn't speak. Couldn't think. We.
 
               Armin jolted as he felt the drizzle of cool oil hit his
prickling flesh. He bit back a whimper as he felt it drip between his ass
cheeks, listen to the way they snorted and sneered.
 
               "Did you see the little princess jump? Bitch is scared now,"
Sanes laughed, unlacing his trousers. The MP wasn't the only one, either. All
four of them were fumbling with their pants, fingers tripped up by lust. Their
bulges were all too prominent now.
 
               "NO!" The word barely escaped Armin's throat, squeezing past his
roaring heart. He didn't think. Still couldn't. Just as before, the word fought
its way from his vocal cords on its own. He was ready to beg. Ready to throw
his dignity out the window. Ready to do anything that would stop them from
doing this.
 
               The men all began speaking at once, one laughing as Armin bucked
wildly. With a rightly timed hip, he almost knocked Balto from the bed. In his
mind maddened by horror, be barely even noticed. "Get me the rod," Balto
growled, shoving Armin back against the mattress roughly.
 
               "No, no, no, this isn't worth it! Just let me go," Armin
pleaded, voice wavering violently on the edge of tears.
 
               "Come on gorgeous, cry. It's such a fucking turn-on to see
pretty pieces of ass like you fall apart," Innocencio said, and Armin would
have thought the man was snarling if not for the sickening smile on his face.
 
               An iron spreader bar was fished out of the trunk at the base of
the bed, Armin's irises shrinking at the mere sight of it. "I-I-I--" what few
intelligible sounds he had to offer died as he realized the men were
stroking themselves.
 
               He didn't know why, but a part of him had seemed to believe that
all of this was some sort of complex, psychotic prank. But it wasn't until he
was actually seeing these men getting off on his fear that he began to writhe
and snap his jaws at anything in his reach; kicking desperately as each of his
ankles were caught in the device.
 
               His knees were forced apart, and no matter how much he twisted,
every nerve on fire with adrenaline, he couldn't even close his legs. "HELP!
HELP ME!" Armin shrieked, forgetting what few scraps of pride he had.
 
               He clawed at the bedsheets madly, but his wrists were caught
too; dragged between his legs and chained to the handcuffs attached to the
center of the spreader bar. No no no no no no no this can't be happening I'm
stronger than this I thought I was stronger!
 
               To simply call it a compromising position was a joke. With his
arms trapped between his ankles, legs spread wide, Balto had perfect access to
his ass, stuck high in the air. "You're making a mistake," Armin rasped, voice
strangled by his own tears.
 
               That earned him a slap to his right ass cheek, followed by more
catcalls and another round of oil.
 
               "If your commander really cared, wouldn't he have come to rescue
you by now?" Balto asked casually. "Maybe he knew what a whore you were, and
decided to let me have you despite how he should have just taken my offer. He
would have been able to fund another expedition for what I'm about to do to
you, princess," Balto hissed, and lowered his trousers to his knees.
 
               "W-wai--" Armin never got the chance to finish. He couldn't
remember being able to hit this octave since he watched Eren get eaten in front
of him. And the pain. It was like nothing he had ever felt before.
Excruciating?that was too tame.
 
               Unimaginable.
 
               The true flames of Hell.
 
               Balto's cock was nothing to be proud of; under average, a fat,
stubby thing. But it still ripped screams from Armin's mouth, dragged tears
from his eyes. "I can see how you're the commander's favorite little fucktoy,"
Balto groaned, fingernails digging into his hips.
 
               He heard Balto's words but was in too much pain to understand.
"STOP! STOP, GET OFF ME!" Armin screeched, voice cracking. The steel cuffs bit
into his skin as he thrashed uselessly, beads of red bubbling to the surface.
 
               "Nngh, yeah sweetheart, don't stop screaming," Balto groaned,
fat belly smearing sweat across Armin's back with each thrust.
 
               Repulsive, yet tears, screams, and blood seemed to be exactly
what these men wanted to see. Through blurry eyes, he couldn't even tell who
whistled, but Armin heard Sanes crow, "Fuck him like the bitch is in heat!"
 
               Despite the rivers of scarlet that began leaking down Armin's
thighs, Balto lasted embarrassingly quick. He came with an animalistic grunt,
thrusting as deeply as possible before releasing into Armin's ravaged body.
 
               As Balto pulled away, it took all of Armin's self control not to
outright wail, shoulders still shuddering from the force of his sobs.
"Please...you got what you wanted...let me...just let me..." Armin couldn't
even finish his sentence through the tears.
 
               "Save your breath, gorgeous. We're not stopping until we've
absolutely wrecked that sweet cunt," Innocencio chuckled, words even deeper
through waves of pleasure.
 
               Stepping out of his trousers, Balto strolled causally over to
the wall, exaggerating his thoughtful hum as if to put on a show.
 
               "Don't do this...you don't have to do this..." Armin continued
to whimper weakly, but deep down he knew that was exactly the kind of thing
they wanted to hear.
 
               "We don't /have/ to do any of this," Lobov finally spoke up, his
voice a harsh sound, telling a tale of alcohol abuse. "But it certainly makes
life more interesting."
 
               Balto turned back, a dildo of rose tinted, tempered glass in his
hand. It was at least two inches longer than Balto's own erection, easily
thicker, and looked just as cruel. "No! No please, please I'm begging you,"
Armin was trying and failing not to scream as he only brought it closer.
 
               "You're not going to change any of our minds," Balto cooed,
climbing back onto the bed. "You think you're the first one to tell us any of
this?" All of his weight was again on Armin's back. "You're not," he hummed in
his ear. "We've been hearing the same old song from dozens of girly sluts like
you. And it's not going to end tonight." Armin jerked as he felt the head of
the glass cock rammed against his entrance. "Any guess what? It's not going to
end tomorrow either." Armin quickly lost the fight not to scream, releasing an
ear-piercing shriek as the dildo began stretching him remorselessly. "This is
your life now, understand, whore? Every night from now on is spent with us,
doing whatever we want." Armin's eyes rolled into the back of his head as the
first inch was forced inside of him. "Until you become boring, of course. Once
we've destroyed your tight little boy pussy," his voice became soft, "I'm going
to slit your throat like a pig."
 
               As if to prove his point, the dildo was rammed halfway in,
kicking Armin's shriek into another octave.
 
               "His mouth is starting to give me a headache. I'm going to use
it, if you don't mind," Lobov sighed, rising to his feet.
 
               Of course," Balto replied graciously. Then he gave Armin's ass
another slap, snapping, "Bite any of us and I'll cut your tiny balls off,
understand?"
 
               Balto must have taken his tortured whine as acknowledgement,
because the topic wasn't pursued. Instead, Armin was faced with one of the most
disgusting cocks he had ever seen.
 
               Since there was no headboard between the posts, Lobov had easy
access to his face. He had never seen such an ugly, shriveled thing. Lobov's
dick had no lack of stomach churning veins, dancing in front of saggy, wrinkled
balls. The familiar mantra of no no no flooded Armin's mind, but he wasn't
about to open his mouth to voice it.
 
               "Come on princess, let's see how well you suck cock," Lobov
coaxed, but it took Balto shoving the dildo down to the hilt for Armin to part
his lips.
 
               Armin couldn't even squeal in shock, no air able to get in or
out his throat. His guts flopped, stomach acid shooting up his esophagus as
Lobov shoved down as far as he could.
 
               He would have rather had hands at his neck, squeezing the life
from his body. He would have rather had Titan's teeth at his throat, ready to
sever his skull. Anything other than what was actually choking him.
 
               Balto began thrusting the dildo in and out, torturously slow, as
Lobov tangled a hand in Armin's hair. Sanes and Innocencio had scooted closer
to watch their host, able to see through the glass how Armin's ass struggled
and tore to accommodate the artificial girth.
 
               Tears of pain and fear began streaking down Armin's cheeks even
faster as Lobov began fucking his mouth, groaning in ecstasy. His thrusts
weren't fast, but they never granted Armin any opportunity for air, and he
quickly felt panic rising at a single thought: what happens if I pass out?
 
               The threat felt all too real. His lungs were burning with a wild
need for oxygen, thoughts growing fuzzier by the second. With each strike
against his uvula, each wave of vomit, Armin found the reality of suffocating
on a man's cock or drowning in his own bodily fluids more possible. It was
almost surreal, realizing how easy it could be to die like this.
 
               And then salty, sticky fluid was pushing past his vomit, forcing
its way down into his stomach. As soon as Lobov pulled away, Armin hurled
violently, coughing and retching and crying blindly. Bile, saliva, and semen
poured from his mouth as blood and cum continued to seep from his rectum.
 
               "Your new slut won't be fighting back again any time soon,"
Sanes snorted, nodding toward Armin's limp wrists. "Now that he's broken in,
let's see how he manages a handjob."
 
               With the twist of a key, the cuffs fell away. But Armin didn't
use his newfound partial freedom to fight back. The agony had stripped him of
any logical thought. He felt lucky that he could remember how to breathe, for
however long his mouth would remain empty.
 
               "May I?" Innocencio nearly growled, starting to climb onto the
bed as Sanes grabbed Armin's hand.
 
               "My pleasure," Balto crooned, pulling the dildo free with a
disturbing squelch. Armin let out a small, mangled sound of protest, but it
made no difference like he knew it would.
 
               The men seemed surprised, almost impressed that Armin still had
it in him to scream in pain. But Dario Innocencio easily put Lord Balto to
shame. With a cock easily seven inches long, Armin felt like Innocencio had
punctured an organ.
 
               "Focus on me, princess," Sanes rumbled, grip tightening
threateningly. Armin's fingers trembled as he struggled to obey.
 
               "You might want to hold off on that for a moment," Lobov
interjected, something glinting in his hand. Armin could no longer taste any of
the fluids in his mouth.
 
               It was Lord Balto's blade.
 
               They're going to kill me now, Armin's shattered mind cried
pathetically. After everything that happened, it seemed all too plausible now.
He almost welcomed it, if a continuation of this torture was really his only
alternative.
 
               As Innocencio began pumping in and out viciously, worsening
Armin's wounds, Lobov brought the very tip of the knife across Armin's
shoulder, down his elbow without so much as blinking.
 
               Armin whined fearfully before he even realized the sound left
his body, eyes bulging wider at the sight of even more of his own blood. He
could barely feel it at first, not even a dull burn, but an itch that he wanted
to claw at. "You bleed so beautifully for us." Lobov's twisted praise sounded
more like as sigh.  
 
               But we he continued his calm wound-making, the first thin cuts
began to truly sting. Armin wanted to beg him to stop but his tongue was
tripping in his mouth, numb and confused.
 
               Then he chomped down on it in shock.
 
               A hand had taken hold of his own lifeless cock, stroking
skillfully.
 
               No, no, let go! Armin wanted to shout, to snarl, to scream. But
the noise that he made was some sort of undignified squeak, ability for form
words completely abandoning him.
 
               "Cum for me, gorgeous," Balto jeered, a bone-chilling grin
spreading across his face.
 
               Armin tried to shake his head, to deny them when he had already
given them everything else they wanted. Deep down, he knew whether he wanted it
or not, he wouldn't be able to refuse them this either.
 
With a bit of oil added to his palm, it took some patience on Balto's part. But
with slow, sensual caresses of Armin's dick, he eventually felt his body start
to defy him. I don't want this! I don't, I don't, he told himself over and
over, able to feel the tears sliding down his cheeks again for the first time
in...he didn't even know how long since this whole thing had started.
 
But with an injured cry, Armin finally came onto the sheets, covered in the cum
of others, his own blood, and empty of all hope.
***** Rescue *****
Chapter Summary
     Eren, Mikasa, Erwin, Levi, and Hanji discover that Armin is missing.
     But they aren't about to lose him without a fight. And they have a
     Titan on their side.
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys, guess who's risen from the dead. If you're curious where
     the fuck I've been/what's happened, I left an explanation on the most
     recent chapter of Without a Green Card. I'm not posting it here
     because it's hella long. But I just need to thank everyone for your
     dedication and support, and all the messages I received. It made
     these few months of hell a little more bearable.
     So, after vanishing for months, here's the next chapter! Warning for
     description of rape at the very, very end of the chapter. There's
     also quite a few minor time skips, but honestly, this story would've
     gotten really tedious without them.
        "Who the hell decided shifters can't get drunk? That's fuckin' lame,"
Eren grumbled, throwing open the door.
 
        "Maybe you just didn't drink enough," Mikasa suggested soothingly,
already peeling her boots off as they entered the room. Eren couldn't help but
smile a little. She was supposed to be sharing a room with Hanji, but Mikasa
clearly wasn't going to allow their arrangements to stay that way.
 
        "I hope," he replied, opting not to comment on his new roommate. "Hey,
think Armin's done in the bath by now?"
 
        Mikasa gave him a look, but it was an honest question. Armin obviously
wasn't in the room, and he would have at least left a note before heading off
someplace else.
 
        "Check on him?" she offered, sliding out of her dress coat.
 
        "Alright!" Eren chirped, bouncing over to the door. Mikasa didn't even
flinch when he began pounding his fist against the oak, but she heard Captain
Sourpuss let out a startled yelp from the next room over. "HEY ARMIN WE'RE
BACK, ARE YOU DONE?"
 
        Within two seconds, Eren was banging on the door again, too impatient
to wait for a response.
 
        "Is he not answering?" Mikasa asked dryly, eyebrows raised.
 
        "No," Eren responded earnestly, either actually dead to her sarcasm or
too invested in Armin to notice. "Think he fell asleep in the tub?"
 
        Mikasa's mouth, set in a straight line, curled into a frown. "He
wouldn't do something so reckless," she murmured, the amusement slowly draining
away from watching Eren prance about like an anxious puppy. What if Armin had
actually gotten hurt? Even the strongest soldiers could be taken down by a
slippery bar of soap. Bertholdt had once been knocked unconscious by a shower
rod.
 
        Eren seemed to take the prolonged silence between them as reason enough
for action. "Armin?! I'm gonna kick down the door!" he hollered, but even then,
no response.
 
        He looked to her, and when she nodded, Eren's boot knocked the oak slab
from its hinges.
 
        He bolted inside instantly, entire body tensing in panic. Her brother
had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and she could easily see the fear
shrink his pupils as his eyes blew wide.
 
        There was no need to ask what was wrong.
 
        "ARMIN'S GONE!"
 
        The heavy pounding of boots was like thunder in Mikasa's ears, but Eren
could barely hear it over his own pulse.
 
        "What do you mean gone?" he heard Levi snap from the bedroom.
 
        "Gone! I mean gone! He's not here!" he sputtered without stopping his
search. But there was nowhere to hide in this tiny bathroom. With just enough
room for a sink and a tub if requested, Armin never would have had anywhere to
go.
 
        But that rationale didn't make him quit opening and closing the tiny
cabinets below the sink; checking beneath the tub despite the tiny flame still
fighting for life; throwing his head out the window in case Armin had made some
miraculous fall.
 
        You're not going to find him. Calm down and go talk to the others, a
tiny sliver of Eren's brain suggested. Look! Don't stop looking! He has to be
here somewhere! He has to! 'Cause if he isn't, where is he?! If he's not here,
he's getting hurt! Don't stop looking! the rest of his brain shrieked, and Eren
began clawing at his hair frantically.
 
        "Jaeger, get in here," the captain's voice cut in, even sharper and
more demanding than usual.
 
        He had to force his legs forward, but somehow he was able to leave the
bathroom. "So what's going on?" Hanji asked, all their usual cheeriness
completely departed. They looked to Erwin expectantly, as if the commander
omnipotently knew every answer. And as ridiculous as the idea seemed, Eren
found himself following their gaze.
 
        "So," Levi snapped, crossing his arms, "are you going to tell them or
should I?"
 
        Tell uswhat? The feeling that hit Eren's gut like cannon fire was too
strong for a name. Too powerful to be dread. Too sickening to be fear. It was
every ugly emotion the human body was capable of, all mashed together and
released at once.
 
        With a sigh, Erwin decided, "I'll tell them." Then Eren was hanging on
every word that left the commander's tongue, refusing to blink of only to
observe the curves of Erwin's lips as he spoke. "I have some suspicions that
Lord Balto's manor should be our first stop on our search for Cadet Arlert."
Levi snorted, as if amused by something Erwin had said—or left out?
 
        But that thought was momentary, fleeting, Eren was already charging
toward the door. "Come on, let's go! We need to save Armin!" he snarled, an
impatient rage roaring in his chest. From what? A voice in his head purred.
 
        No. No way he was going to entertain thoughts like that, not at a time
like this. He locked away that idea as stormed toward the door.
 
        Mikasa caught his arm.
 
        "How do you know?"
 
        Her voice was frozen over, frigid. Eren felt goosebumps rising under
her crushing grip, but her expression was anything but cool. There was pain,
suspicion, a wild, burning rage glowing in her eyes.
 
        "How did you know?" she repeated, and Eren felt his breath pick up
speed as their commanding officers glanced at each other knowingly.
 
        Erwin cleared his throat, keeping his face unreadable as he admitted,
"I was approached by Balto at the gala this afternoon." His fists visibly
tightened at his sides. "He wanted to purchase your friend."
 
        Eren blinked blankly.
 
        What?
 
        He felt something snap inside him, an audible crunch to his own ears as
he lunged forward.
 
        "You knew about this?! If you knew, why didn't you do a fucking thing
about it?! Armin is—Armin is gone because of you, fucking bastard!" Mikasa
suddenly had her arms around his chest, holding him back despite how he snapped
and snarled like a Rottweiler. "I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch! If
anything happened to him, I'll slit every artery in your fucking body, drink
your goddamn blood, and spit it back in your face when you fucking beg for
mercy!"
 
        Erwin remained silent as Eren thrashed and howled, Mikasa never giving
in despite how powerfully he dug his elbows into her ribs. Levi and Hanji both
cast him glances, either too shocked for words or worried about upsetting Eren
further.
 
        "This is all your fault! I bet you wanted this to...he's..." Eren
slowly went limp in Mikasa's arms, chest heaving as he sobbed, "...Armin..."
 
        The room sunk into a silence that seemed to rip the air from Mikasa’s
lungs. Why was it so hard to breathe? When was everything so blurry? The
pressure building up behind her eyes flooded over, and it took a palm brushing
her cheek to realize she was crying too.
 
        She couldn't lose Armin now, not after everything they had been
through. If he was already dead...
 
        "Levi, Hanji," Erwin suddenly barked, “we're going to get him back.” He
turned to her and Eren, an unmistakable fire in his eyes. “Jaeger? Ackerman?
You're staying—”
 
        Eren lurched forward like a tethered pit bull. "Fuck you, me and Mikasa
are coming too!"
 
        None of their commanding officers made an attempt to argue. Mikasa knew
the only reason they gave in was so they didn't have a fifteen meter monster
charging through the streets. Again.
 
        “Then let's go conduct some interviews. Someone has to have seen
something,” Levi growled, and began the hunt for inn employees.
 
                                       …
 
        The first few chambermaids they found knew nothing, even when Eren
threw them against the wall so hard they almost crashed into the next room.
 
        And then Levi found her.
 
        “Blond kid. Happen to see where they took him?” he snarled, holding his
hand up against Eren.
 
        “I-I don't k-know what you're t-talking ab—” she began. But Levi was so
fast no one even saw him draw the knife. He had her shoved against the hallway
in seconds, fire in his eyes.
 
        “Do you have any idea who I am? How many people I've killed? Your life
means jack shit to me. Who does matter, is that little cadet we’re looking
for.”
 
        Eren was obviously thirsting for blood, but Mikasa couldn't help but
feel her jaw drop. She thought she had seen the captain at his most terrifying.
But that woman looked like she was about to piss herself.
 
        “What's your name?” Levi asked suddenly.
 
        “M-Maria! Maria Carlstedt,” she sputtered fearfully.
 
        “Really,” Levi purred, “that's a nice name. Would look good on a
tombstone.”
 
        With a horrified squeak, she blurted, “R-Rolf! And-and Phil! Th-they-
they were paid by Balto! They were the ones w-who—”
 
        Levi instantly dropped her, shoving her aside carelessly. He was
clearly ready to conduct another ‘interview’ those men wouldn't be leaving
alive.
 
        “Levi,” Erwin barked, “leave them. Our first priority is Alert.” He
added darkly, “We’ll come back for them.”
 
        The captain didn't hesitate. Another curt nod, and the three-D-M-
G cases were opened.
 
        “Calm down, Eren,” Hanji murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. Both
of his eyes were twitching, white-knuckled with teeth bared.
 
        “We're going to find him,” Erwin assured all three of them, and once
outside, all four of them were digging their heels into their horses to go
faster and faster.
 
                                       …
 
        In the darkness, the mansion loomed before them like an ugly, charred
mountain.
 
        “I'm going to kill all of them,” Eren growled, the same inhuman rage
that shined in the eyes of his Titan form reflecting now under the dim
moonlight.
 
        “Patience Eren, you know the plan,” Erwin chided gently. “Hanji?”
 
        “Already on it,” she replied, tucking her glasses away and letting her
hair down. Instantly unrecognizable. She shot cables into the security wall
surrounding the monster mansion and lurched to the top.
 
        “Hurry!” Eren whispered as loudly as he could, and Hanji gave him a
thumbs up before another cable allowed her to slide to the other side.
 
        She dropped to the lawn gracefully, firing a cable into the trees as
quickly as possible. Hanji was able to slip past guards easily by flying from
limb to limb, high above their half-assed watch.
 
        The servant’s entrance will be in the back, she thought to herself,
slinking through the branches for a better view.
 
        Thankfully, it seemed the help had quit all outdoor work for the night,
and the clearly marked door only had one guard stationed beside it.
 
        It took all her willpower to keep from slitting his throat instead of
just knocking him out. Benefit of the doubt, she reminded herself, heaving a
heavy sigh of disappointment. But it was highly unlikely that he knew anything
that was going on, and she had already watched enough innocent people die.
 
        So she drove the handle of her blade into his temple, knocking him out
cold. Now all she had to do was find a servant’s uniform that—
 
        Hanji glanced the guard over.
 
                                       …
 
        It was a tight fit, but she was able to slide to slide into the uniform
easily enough. Giving a polite nod to a passing maid, Hanji called, “Excuse me,
where can I find Lord Balto at this time of night? There was a disturbance at
the eastern entrance and I want to inform him.”
 
        “Oh my,” she gasped, “must be those damn thieves again. He should be in
the cellar at this time of night.”
 
        “A wine cellar?” Hanji asked, taken aback.
 
        “Oh no,” the maid laughed with a wave of her hand. “You know, one of
those fancy dungeons fashionable among the nobles these days. It's a single
door under a stone arch down some stairs. Make a left at the kitchens and you
can't miss it.” As she turned to leave, she added, “Thank you for telling me.
I'll be sure to inform the others just in case.”
 
        Hanji forced a smile that was probably more a grimace, and waited for
her to leave before bolting back out the mansion.
 
                                       …
 
        “So there you have it. Let's go get our Armin back,” Hanji announced,
grinning maliciously.
 
        Eren and Mikasa were over the wall without a hesitation, their
commanding officers frantic to keep up. There was no guarantee either of them
would spare anyone they came across.
 
        “I'm going to gut them like pigs. I'm going to feed them their own
fingers. I'm going to tear off their fingernails with their own teeth,” Eren
snarled, a new threat with each step toward the home.
 
        Mikasa wasn't disturbed in the slightest. Each of his ideas sounded
better than the last.
 
        “Be ready to find anything,” Erwin warned solemnly as Hanji took the
lead.
 
        “We'll find him,” Eren spat. No one wanted to say there was a
difference between recovering and rescuing.
 
        As they found the described staircase, Erwin especially was surprised.
No one knew a guard would be posted there.
 
        Eren seemed to be the only one unfazed. He proved it by striding
directly up to the man, face a blank slate. “Hey, you c—” that's all the guard
got to say before Eren smashed his head into the wall so violently that it left
a vibrant splatter of blood.
 
        No one commented.
 
        “Of course it's locked,” Mikasa hissed, twisting the handle only a few
times in case it drew the attention of the room's occupants. “Captain, you can
pick locks, right?”
 
        “Sure,” Levi grunted, striding past her. And with one fluid kick, the
door was nearly knocked from its hinges.
 
        The sight that greeted them was beyond horrifying.
 
        There, in the center of an enormous room of white marble, was Armin. He
was naked on his knees, pale skin shining with blood and bruises. Tears raced
down his cheeks as a throbbing cock was forced down his throat; working two
more with his hands as a cock and a dildo pumped in and out of his ass in
unison.
 
        "ARMIN!” Eren and Mikasa screamed in unison, racing forward before any
adult could grab either of them.
 
        They definitely still had the element of surprise, because they didn't
seem to notice either cadet until both were roaring, blades drawn.
 
        Eren pounced on the old man holding the dildo, tackling him off the bed
and onto the floor.
 
        Mikasa charged into the large, bearded man raping Armin's mouth.
 
        Levi vaulted over the bed and had his blade against the MP’s throat in
a flash.

        Erwin struck Balto to the floor, digging a fist into the man’s hair to
hold him in place. “This is what happens when you hurt my recruits,” he hissed
as Hanji wrapped Armin in the bed sheets. She rushed him out before the carnage
could begin. “I want you to watch everything that happens to your friends,
because I may not be able to stop my soldiers from doing the same to you.”
***** Hilarious *****
Chapter Summary
     Levi gives the MP what he deserves.
Chapter Notes
     This is a serious warning. If you can't handle gore or genital
     mutilation, skip this chapter. And the next one. And the next one.
     It's safe to return for the very last chapter. But for this one, and
     the following two, it's nothing but hardcore gore. (Hardgore??)
     If this seems like torturous self indulgence to you, that's because
     that's exactly what this is. It's what I would do to rapists if laws
     weren't a thing (of course I wouldn't be charged for anything more
     than animal abuse, but I would rather avoid prison). So this is
     nonstop violence.
     For everyone willing to read this chapter, and the following for
     Mikasa and Eren, I hope you enjoy!! Let me know what you thought in
     the comments <3
See the end of the chapter for more notes
         Levi pulled the knife away from the MP’s throat, but when the man
tried to get onto all fours, a swift kick had him flat on his back.
 
          Top of his class, Levi thought bitterly, listening to the officer
whine like a blind pup. It was pathetic. Insulting. The fact that a spineless
bastard like this could do something like…
 
          He was going to show this disgusting pig the ninth circle of Hell—on
Erwin's command. On the off chance his commander needed a pawn in the Military
Police, Levi would spare him. For no one else would he demonstrate such
restraint.
 
          Levi looked over his shoulder for permission, stomping down on the
MP’s head when he started squirming again.
 
           Ice blue eyes met his own, frozen over in pure hatred. The raw fury
in Erwin's gaze set Levi's bloodlust ablaze. With a curt nod, Erwin ordered,
“Spare no one but Balto.” It didn't cross his mind to question what was in
store for the lovely host. Erwin always had a plan, and Levi always trusted it.
 
          As his attention turned to the MP, Erwin added, “And Levi? Don't hold
back.”
 
          Gladly.
 
          Cracking his neck, Levi stared down at MP; at the absolute filth he
was going to crush like a bug. “Let me hear you beg,” he droned, stomping down
on the man’s head even harder.
 
          The MP didn't hesitate from screaming. “Please! Please don't kill me!
Corporal, find mercy in your heart! We did nothing wrong, spare us, we'll do
anything!” he wailed, floundering beneath Levi's heel.
 
           “I've heard better pleas from a lamb sent to slaughter,” Levi spat,
unsheathing his knife. He straddled the man’s chest, tracing the blade along
his throat. “Tell me, how many of the things you just said did you hear from my
soldier’s mouth?”
 
           “N-none! None of it! Nothing! This was different, I swear!” the man
blubbered frantically, terrified tears racing down his face. “That Scout of
yours, h-he agreed to all this, he—auck.”
 
           Levi could remember being in this position time and time again;
crouching over a body, plunging a blade into some deserving mongrel’s neck. The
body of his mother’s pimp had taught him that it took a surprisingly deep slash
to sever anything important.
 
           So he made sure to aim carefully, cut shallow with a surgeon’s
delicacy. He avoided all major arteries, sending the knife’s eager teeth
through nothing but muscle. The goal was pain, not death. He wasn't going to
let this bastard die that easily.
 
           “I've heard enough,” Levi hissed, rising to his feet and strolling
over to a pile of a noble’s clothes. He fished out a handkerchief, wiping the
blood from his hand.
 
           He remained silent, staring down in disgust as the shrieks and howls
of agony echoed around him. The feral screams and abject snapping of bones were
comparable to that of the battlefield; fitting, considering the Titan shifter
in the room. He reminded himself to stop Jeager before the brat took a liking
to the taste of human flesh.
 
           But Levi himself? He was just getting started.
 
           He envisioned Arlert, the moment he had kicked open the door. He
looked down at the MP and saw the tears racing down his cadet’s face; the blood
smeared across his body. The fear and loss of hope that resonated so deeply,
Arlert was nearly comatose.
 
           Levi remembered it all, and channeled every last horrifying,
enraging detail into the stomp kick between the MP’s legs.
 
           There was a terrible pop! and the man’s gurgling and whimpering
jumped back into screaming—if it could be called that. Levi had slashed several
vocal cords, leaving the MP with a distorted sound fit for the spawn of Hell.
 
            “Tell me, do you like raping soldiers? Get a sick kick out of a
young face in uniform?” Levi spat. Blood splattered across his boot as he
landed another vengeful stomp kick to the MP’s genitals.
 
           “Did it turn you on when he started crying? Did you like hearing him
scream?” he continued, voice lacking every emotion but rage. The man’s dick was
bent at an awkward angle, the rapidly shrinking head bleeding profusely. His
balls were also torn, oozing scarlet liquid delightfully across the white
marble floor.
 
          “Did you feel fucking accomplished when he bled on your cock?” Levi
snarled, bringing down his heel again and again. There was no restraint, no
regret. No matter how loudly the MP screamed, he never stopped. “Did you think
it was fucking funny when he broke and begged you for mercy?”
 
          It was nearly impossible to tell that the MP’s dick had been four
inches soft. It was now broken in so many irreparable directions that it was a
miracle Levi could still identify it as a cock at all. And the MP’s testicles,
those were even worse. Levi's boot had completely crushed them, and now the
egg-shaped organs were only attached to the scrotum by a thin piece of bright
pink tissue.
 
           The sight was hardly satisfying. The man’s empty ball sac, flattened
and bloody, wouldn't reverse what had happened to Arlert. A broken cock
couldn't compare to a broken soul.
 
           But Levi couldn't deny that each shriek added fuel to the fire in
his heart. Watching the man cry as he choked on his pleas for forgiveness made
Levi want to laugh. Yes, this wouldn't allow him to travel back in time, but it
would stop the same thing from happening ever again. That alone would have to
satisfy.
 
           Levi lowered his voice. “Y’know, maybe I do understand how you feel.
Because watching you cry, and piss yourself like a baby,” another kick, “it's
fucking hilarious.”
 
           He crouched down again, carefully avoiding the blood that wouldn't
clean itself. Human anatomy really was just one disgusting inconvenience after
another. Sliding on a pair of gloves that would later be burned, Levi’s eye
twitched as he picked up one of the testes.
 
           It was slick with blood and slid around in his grasp, but he had
never planned to be holding it for long.
 
           The MP was twisting and writhing on the ground as he gargled sobs
and blood at the back of slashed throat. Even now Levi felt no desire to smile;
only cringing at the repulsive cocktail of bodily fluids he had to push through
in order the force the testicle down the man’s esophagus.
 
           The fucker had vomited from the pain, only making it worse when Levi
had to do it again. But watching the man’s back arch dramatically; hearing him
cough and choke and cry; as long as he had gloves, Levi would pay money to
repeat the experience over again.
 
           This was what happened when someone tried to fuck with one of his
cadets.
 
           There was one final thing Levi had to do. Blade in hand, he returned
to the carnage between the MP’s legs. He screamed, but Levi gave it no thought.
He had become nearly deaf to the sound at this point. With Eren and Mikasa’s
victims screeching as well, it was all starting to sound the same.
 
           The scream of a man losing his testicles and the scream of a man
having his cock cut off were hardly different anyway.
 
           Levi made sure to work slowly, sawing back and forth unflinchingly.
He ground his teeth at the heat of the blood rolling over his hands, but he
wasn't about to stop. He dragged the angry teeth of the knife through every
vein, nerve, and cell of tissue until he was holding a severed dick in his
hand.
 
            Readjusting his knees against the MP’s chest, Levi took hold of the
man’s jaw, forcing it open. He thrust the severed cock down like a blade,
unfazed by the terrified noises leaving the man’s lips. And he kept pushing the
MP’s own cock down the man’s throat until the sounds were completely blocked.
 
            Now Levi smiled.
 
            He held his gag in place until the panicked thrashing began to
slow; smile growing wider and wider into a vicious grin as the nails biting
into his arms grew weaker. The MP’s grip grew looser, bulging eyes duller,
chest heaving softer, until motion stopped altogether.
 
            The man’s heart gave one last, pitiful beat. But no oxygen could
reach his brain, and his body completely shut down.
 
             Standing again, Levi spit on the contorted corpse. “I always hated
MPs.”
Chapter End Notes
     I've had this done for a few days now. Sorry it's taken me so long to
     post!!
***** Skins *****
Chapter Summary
     It's Mikasa's turn to avenge Armin.
Chapter Notes
     Holy shit, wow, sorry for vanishing for fucking ever. I've been soooo
     hella busy, this is by far one of my most active summers. Went on a
     10-day graduation trip, just got back from college orientation, and
     I've been doing a shitload of stuff with friends in between. Writing
     has definitely been on the back burner right now.
     But enough about me! This lovely chapter comes from Terminally Fated,
     and I tried not to edit much so that it still sounds like their
     writing. Hope you enjoy!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Don’t fucking touch me you bitch!” he screeched, with the fear of a trapped
rabbit in his eyes. Defensively, the man lunged towards her, knife in hand
aimed right at her throat. A quick step and a shift in weight later, he was
slammed onto the marble floor. The sound of his head hitting the stone
resonated over the tortured screams of his companions.
That shut him up real quick, but she could still hear his fear by looking at
his body language alone. He tried to get up and she delivered a swift a stomp
to the chest, cracking a few ribs and communicating to him everything he needed
to know. He didn’t dare get up again.
Mikasa kneeled down beside him. It was almost funny. She had gotten onto the
dirty floor, yet was still above the filthy mongrel that lay in agony before
her. The thought made her smile as she unsheathed the skinning knife.
It would be just like skinning a rabbit, or deer. She’d done it all her life.
The only difference now was that the animals of her past had more dignity than
the one in front of her now. Even after death they still had a purpose. The man
presented to her now was nothing more than a parasite.
His breathing grew heavy and frantic as the metallic gleam of her knife caught
his eye. Mikasa didn’t even waste energy making eye contact and began to move
her delicate fingers down the man’s body. She stopped at his penis and gripped
it firmly enough to make him cry out in pain.
“Please! Please don-”
She released his dick as soon as he spoke and pressed her hand into his broken
ribs.
“Shut up.” Her voice was deadpan, but cut through the air with a sense of
ferocity.
His words were neither needed nor relevant for this and she wanted to keep it
that way.
When he finally caught on, she continued with her work with even more force
than before. She grabbed her knife and began to press the blade between the
head of his flaccid penis and it's base, carefully severing the foreskin. His
screams were shrill, but he didn’t beg anymore. He learned his lesson.
Dexterously she began to carve away, face blank. She remained expressionless,
even as scarlet blood began decorating the silver teeth of her knife. It oozed
over her fingers as she held the noble’s cock in place, but she didn't flinch
away from the heat.
The heat of blood meant life. It still flowed freely; she could still feel the
warmth that implied a pulse. Eyes narrowing, she felt her frown grow even
tighter. A monster like this, an animal, he didn't deserve the heart beating in
his chest. He didn't deserve to live. Her grip on the knife began to splinter
the wooden handle.
Piece by shriveled piece, curled strips of flesh fell to the floor in a puddle
of blood. Away fell the pink, spongy tissue until nothing but a shredded
urethra was left hanging limply in her palm.
Now came the fun part.
Mikasa kicked him over, onto whatever remained of his penis and continued, once
more, to ignore his cries of pain.
She used the back of his thigh to wipe the blood off her knife pressed the
clean blade into the small of his back. The knife curved into a point which she
used to make her initial incision. His body tensed underneath her and it only
made her press the knife down with even more force. She had thought that this
was like skinning a deer but she was wrong.
This was much easier.
She held the knife flat against his skin and began to cut away at his flesh. He
thrashed and struggled against the restraints, making the process take longer
than it should have. She didn’t mind. It was therapeutic, and his constant
movements were more of an annoyance than anything. A challenge in a sense.
She carved away the first strip of flesh, keeping a slow and even pace as she
went. It peeled away almost as easily as it was cut, the flesh and tissues
pulling away from the muscle beneath. She could see tears streaming down the
man’s face and placed the layer of skin down in front of him, so he could see
what was being done to him.
She continued carving away strip after strip of his back until it was nothing
more than a brilliant red meeting her eye. By now the pile of skin in front of
her game was eye level and he had surpassed the point of tears.
The air began to fill with the smell of rusted iron and sweat. As his screams
died down, the wet, slick sounds of skin being peeled away took their place.
She lost herself in the rhythm and motion and was startled to find there was no
more skin left. At least, there wasn’t on his back side. She untied the
restraints on his wrists and ankles and began to carefully roll him over. The
last thing she wanted was for him to pass out. No. He needed to feel every last
bit of pain she was going to give him.
She dug the point of her blade above his belly button, making sure not to
damage his organs. Those were for later. Mikasa started the process all over
again, stripping away piece after piece of the poor excuse of a man on the
ground.
She started with his stomach and worked her way up to his chest and arms. Then
began again at his thighs, exposing layers of tissue. As she had finished, the
smell was nauseating and the white marble floor was tainted with splotches and
smears of blood.
She resisted the urge to clean the blood off her knife and made a deep gash
into the man’s stomach. It ran from beneath his sternum all the way down to his
pelvis. Just like an animal, she kept repeating to herself. She was the hunter
and he was her prey. Small and futile like the rabbits she’d catch.
The hunter then took one of the metal hooks that had been dangling on the wall.
Mikasa stared on as she inserted it into the abdomen of her rabbit, her deer,
her trophy. Wet noises escaped from his insides with each stir of the hook,
until it caught on his large intestine. Slowly she pulled. The man’s screams
returned once more, assuring her that she had done an exceptional job at
keeping him conscious.
With a slight tug, his intestines were completely out and she added them onto
the piles of flesh with a sickening plop. Now onto the small intestines. These
were significantly longer so the process was much more tedious. Of course she
couldn't allow him to die just yet either, so it required twice the amount of
care and caution.
She pulled for what felt like hours as foot after foot of the man’s insides
inched their way out of his body. Rather than feeling squeamish, she was
intrigued by how much could fit into one miniscule body; intrigued by how human
they made him seem. Intrigue gave way to anger a the thought of how such a
creature could parade around in the guise of a man.
It wasn’t fooling anyone.
Mikasa looked down at the art she had created, a sense of accomplishment
washing over her as the sight of what is no longer a recognizable human lay
writhing in agony on the ground before her.
“K…”
It was trying to speak.
“...kill...m…”
It wanted mercy.
She looked at it with eyes as hollow as its carved out abdomen. Once more,
there was no need for words to convey her response to the animal’s whimperings
and pleas for death.
She would leave it to live like this for hours. Suffer as much as Armin had
suffered. Death would be a gift compared to what that thing deserved.
Chapter End Notes
     As always, I can't thank everyone enough for their patience. Y'all
     are always too good to me.
***** Devour *****
Chapter Summary
     Eren goes batshit fucking insane lmao
Chapter Notes
     Hey everyone, this chapter went waaaaay over my usual page length, so
     I hope you can bear with all the extra violence packed in. I kind of
     got carried away, but I had a blast writing it and I'm so happy I'm
     finally posting! With a bit of drama going down in my life, it was
     hard to focus for a while. But it's done and one more chapter is on
     the way!
     This one's dedicated to you, Captain_Vantass! Happy birthday, loser
         Eren peered into the thing’s face curiously, cocking his head from
side to side like an inquisitive dog. It was always a shock to him, how similar
the animals willing to do these things looked like humans.
          “Get off me! Get the fuck off me!” the creature was screaming, but
Eren quickly caught the fist aimed for his skull. How dare such a disgusting
shitstain try to lay it's fucking paws on him. He squeezed and squeezed and
squeezed until the bones in grasp had shattered and then kept squeezing. The
thing was screaming, yowling, mercy, mercy, please, mercy! and Eren kept going
until every bone, vein, strip of tendon had been severed.
         What a charming idea. Mercy. But Armin had gotten no such thing, had
he? Brilliant, perfect Armin.
          Eren had pounced so quickly that it was reasonable to assume he
hadn't truly seen what had happened to his friend. But he did. He saw how Armin
dropped limply once there was no one left to hold him up. He saw the glaze over
Armin's empty eyes still running with tears. He saw how Armin remained silent
to Hanji’s call, how he didn't try to move, to fight, to speak. Armin didn't
try to do anything. Armin wasn't Armin anymore.
          I'm going to make them fucking pay.
          Heart hammering at an inhuman pace, Eren feel his lips recede into
his cheeks, baring his teeth and gums. Ears sharpening, eyes glowing green, he
felt the familiar desire to kill, kill, kill them all. A feral growl echoed
from the deepest recesses of his chest.
          “Monster! You're a monster!” A pot calling the kettle black. But
maybe the creature was right.
          Eren could smell the urine puddling on the tile; the heavy stench of
cum and bile; the fear radiating off the pig beneath him. He heard every
terrified gasp; each and every bead of sweat hitting the floor; every single
goddamn heartbeat. Was it all in his head? Maybe.
          But it set him on fire.
          As he leaned in the beast’s face, the smell of fear grew stronger,
wafting into his nostrils like a freshly baked pie; the heartbeat raced faster
until it was pounding in his own ears, rushing through his veins.
          He wanted it pouring into his mouth. He wanted to feel the blood of
this vermin racing down his throat, a scarlet fountain of sadism in its purest
form. Wanted to hear the pig squeal as it was slaughtered.
         “When I saw that my Armin had been taken,” Eren murmured, his voice
taking on a slight echo as if two people were taking at once, “I wasn't sure
what I would have to kill to get him back.”
          His leg was a blur. Eren landed a brutal roundhouse kick to the
creature’s temple without warning; his eyes held no remorse. “Pretty relieving
to see I was just goin’ to have to put down some fuckin’ livestock.” He kicked
the thing in its head again, just to hear it scream and choke on its own spit.
“Although I gotta admit, I've never seen a breed of pig like your's before.
What's it eat?” The monster didn't reply, so Eren broke its nose with the front
of his boot. “Judgin’ by what I saw, you're the kinda pig that eats anything.
Even body parts.” The glow of his eyes grew brighter. “Mind if I feed you?”
         He squatted above the creature’s lap, taking a fistful of sweaty hair
in one hand and a trembling jaw in the other. Without even blinking, he mashed
their faces together, teeth quaking down to their roots form the force of the
collision.
         And then, what Eren began doing couldn't be called a kiss. He was
literally devouring the thing’s mouth; snarling and spitting as he sunk his
teeth into the monster’s lips and ripped away vengefully. The first spray of
blood jetted into his mouth, tasting of copper and iron and power. No matter
how the beast thrashed and shrieked, Eren had a death grip until he was the one
who decided to pull away.
         “Does this turn you on?” Eren hissed, staring unblinkingly into the
monster’s eyes. “You like kids, don't you? So why don't you like it? Because it
fucking hurts?” He went back in to deepen the warped kiss, but the beast
refused to part it's lips.
         So Eren chose the most obvious solution; wrenching the creature’s
mouth open so violently that everyone could hear the resounding crack of its
broken jaw. He was the one in fucking control now.
         He ripped his way back into the monster’s mouth, enraged snarls
slipping from his throat as he sought out the thing’s tongue.
         It barely took a second.
         One wrong move, and the beast’s tongue slipped between Eren's teeth.
         Clack, went Eren's jaws, and his Titan maw came down like a
guillotine. With a horrendous screech, the monster lurched backwards, grabbing
at its mouth frantically. Eren spit the severed muscle into his palm, grinning
maniacally as blood poured down both their chins. The blood of these rotten,
useless, pathetic animals always tasted the best. It drove Eren wild until the
thirst was absolutely insatiable. He hadn't remembered how good it felt since
slaughtering those child touchers during his refugee camp days. His heart had
never beat this fast. He had never been simultaneously so satisfied yet so
angry. He had never felt this hungry.
         Eren had never felt so alive.
He thought about using his teeth for the next act too, if only for the taste of
more blood. But even he wouldn't stoop so low as to put the cock of a creature
such as this between his teeth.
         But the teeth of his blade would do just fine.
          Eren had brought along several, but this was a job for the tactical
blade in his boot. He wanted to be able to hold the knife in his hand, and
recall fondly what had been done with it. He would even give it to Armin, if
his friend wanted.
           Sitting on the pig’s legs, there were no flailing limbs to fight.
Sawing off the tip of the beast’s penis was as simple as chopping the head from
a chicken. The animal lurched and screamed so violently that a splatter of
blood shot through the air from its mouth.
           Eren didn't even flinch as some dotted his cheek. His tongue snaked
out, seeking his reward for delivering such righteous judgment. Keep
screaming, he thought manically, squeezing what remained of the dick in his
hand as he slashed away piece by piece.
           Soon there was nothing left between the beast’s thighs except for
two pathetic testes. The pieces of its severed cock rested in Eren's palm,
perfectly bite sized. “Still hungry?” he growled, unintelligible in his warped,
semi-Titan form.
           As if it would make a difference. Eren didn't need to be understood
got his message to be read loud and clear. Just as Captain Levi had done, the
animal was fed its own disgusting dick. Brilliant, beautiful blood was smeared
across the thing’s face as Eren forced each fleshy piece down a throat screamed
raw.
           Not enough, not enough, Eren's mind chanted. And it was definitely
right. This was not enough, not for Armin. Revenge for his friend needed to be
bigger, better, drenched in blood until there was nothing he could see but red.
           Eren rose to his feet, driving his boot into the beast’s gut without
hesitation. Again and again and again, he kicked the disgusting mass of
wobbling flesh until it was on its back—at least, what Eren assumed was its
back. The repulsive thing was so round with so many folds of skin it was hard
to tell.
           No matter. Eren could see the hole he was after. He dropped back to
his knees and let out a feline hiss.
           Despite the blood it was coughing up, the monster seemed to
understand what Eren was after. “N-no wait, please don't,” it rasped in a
spluttering, choking mess. Oh.
           Oh.
           So it thought it had a right to fucking beg. Eren almost gave it
some credit for being able to follow his train of thought. But it was clearly
even stupider than he expected; which was mind blowing in itself, considering
one had to have already been born with half a brain to go after Armin.
           Eren would make sure to check how much of the creature’s brain was
left once he was done cracking its skull open.
           He unsheathed a peeling knife he had swiped from the kitchen, the
solid green glow of his eyes glinting in its steel.
            No, no, no! the creature continued its masquerade as best it could.
It was crying the same word over and over, as if speaking would prove it was
worth the same as a human life. Didn't it know that a simple bird could be
taught such a parlor trick? Now, Armin. Armin was the real life worth
everything. Anything. And Eren would show this animal the difference.
           It was easy to hold the beast down; easier still to slide the short,
curved blade into its asshole. Strange. He had expected more resistance. Yet
the knife slashed through tissue and muscle satisfyingly smooth, and Eren let
out a growl of pleasure.
           The monster screamed, of course, but that part wasn't nearly enough.
Eren had heard it scream plenty of times already—
hell, it never stopped. It only got louder. The blood wasn't anything special
either. The entire room already reeked of it, driving his senses wild and
forcing him to fight the urge to just kill the creature now; to kill every
fucking thing that moved.
           Eren had to fight it, and he would. Because this was the type of
vengeance Armin deserved.
           With a flick of his wrist, he sliced off an entire section of the
monster’s anal canal, and the screaming hit a pitch that made his eye twitch.
But such an undignified reaction from the creature was the breeze to the
wildfire raging in Eren's chest.
           He didn't even know he was capable of getting any more pissed off.
But the screams weren't even justified! He hadn't done anything to warrant such
a dramatic reaction yet! Even as the blood dripped down the handle of the knife
and into his fingers, he couldn't grasp any logical reason to display such
weakness. Not when the real pain hadn't even started. I’ll make sure of that.
           Eren twisted the knife a few more times for good measure, hissing as
the monster tried to crawl away. First begging, then sobbing, and now it
thought it could try to run? No wonder the creature thought it get away with
doing those things to Armin. It was stupid as shit.
           He plunged the knife as deeply as he could into the monster’s ass,
leaving it there. What he needed to do would only take a moment.
           With a canine snarl, Eren took hold of the beast’s leg and sunk his
teeth in without flinching. This is what you fucking get when you try to
run, he thought viciously, blood pouring from his lips as he clamped down. The
monster’s tibia splintered almost instantly, snapping into pieces around his
jaws. The screams were just as obnoxious and enraging as ever.
           After doing the same to the beast’s other leg, Eren returned to his
former task. The blade handle was now completely scarlet from the blood
dripping down it, but Eren took hold without even blinking. The warm liquid at
his fingertips was a reminder of what was to come, and encouragement for the
most primal parts of him that were roaring for more.
           From each twist of the knife, ribbons of intestinal flesh began to
emerge from the monster’s asshole; like the skin that dangles from a freshly
peeled apple. Despite all the rich red blood, it was a surprisingly pale pink,
almost white. His eyes gleamed.
          Eren wondered if the rest of the beast’s intestines looked the same
way.
          He removed the blade, and with a horrific image of Armin in his mind,
thrust his fingers into the monster’s ass.
          It was shockingly tight around three, and then four of his fingers.
He had to use even more force than usual because of the way blood clung to his
hand. Yet he still couldn't squeeze his thumb inside. No matter how much his
nails scraped and clawed at the creature’s innards; no matter how much the
thing flailed and shrieked itself to insanity; Eren couldn't seem to get his
knuckles past its sphincter.
          He frowned. Annoying.
          Eren removed his hand, grabbed the knife once more, and tried again.
This time he made—it was difficult to tell, really. There could have been
eleven, eighteen, twenty-five deep, jagged slashes carved into the beast’s ass.
Once Eren started, he could barely convince himself to stop. The repetitive
motion of each strike, yielding shrieks again and again, was soothing like no
other action could be. Each and every diagonal wound was another trophy for
Armin.
          Chest heaving heavily, dragging the sweet metallic scent deep into
his lungs, Eren couldn't hold back any longer. He dropped the knife and rammed
his whole hand into the monster’s ass. The ripped skin quickly gave way,
molding around his wrist, but in no way stopping him.
          “Wow, I can barely fit my entire fist in your ass,” Eren marveled
aloud, ignoring the monster’s shrieks of agony. “Is it so tight because all
your shit comes out your mouth?”
          He frowned at the lack of response and pushed harder, unfazed by the
way the creature’s voice cracked. “After what you've done, you owe me an
answer!” he snapped.
          The thing slumped to the ground, losing consciousness. Eren ground
his teeth so tightly that he felt a molar crack. This fucking piece of
trash thought it could scream, plead, cry, and now pass out too?!
          Eren would have killed the creature then and there, if it had not
suddenly resumed screeching. So it had only blacked out for several seconds.
Good, but not good enough. If the beast had really wanted to experience even
the slightest of mercies Eren would be willing to give (in this case, a faster
death), it would have stayed conscious from start to fucking finish.
          Too late for that now.
          He slammed his free fist onto the small of the monster’s back. It's
muscles contracted on impulse, making it even easier for Eren to get a tight
grip on the creature’s rectum.
          It turned out that the deeper it was placed in the body, the darker
the flesh of it was. So while the flesh at the end of the intestine was nearly
white, the rectum was a much richer pink, and the large intestine was an even
more delightful shade of red. It was so much harder to determine with
battlefield remains.
          And it never seemed to stop coming. Eren pulled, and pulled, and
pulled and pulled and pulled until five feet worth of guts was piled at his
feet. Still not enough. Never enough. More, more, more, the feral voices
chanted. More blood, more screams, more total evisceration.
         The fleshy tubes changed color again, shrinking in his hand. The small
intestine, Eren registered it vaguely, but all he really saw a brand new jump
rope. Or maybe a noose for when this was all over.
         It didn't extend for nearly as long before the organ went taunt. With
an irritated twitch, Eren ripped the small intestine from the creature’s body
entirely, a piece of stomach coming with it. But the satisfaction from the
beast’s screams was slim. It sounded just like every other: rich in pain, so
high-pitched it shook his eardrums. And all the blood he saw? That was nothing
compared to having it on his lips. Not fucking good enough.
          Eren could feel the primal urge consuming every thought. The
crippling heartbreak was devoured in an instant. Kill. Kill. Kill. The fierce
confusion of how could this happen got snapped up in seconds. Kill, kill,
kill. Even the anger was swallowed whole. Kill kill kill kill.
         The bloodlust stole his humanity piece by piece. Only two things
remained, untouched and indestructible, in the onslaught of savagery taking
over his body. It was Eren's most ferine hatred, but also, a smile. A radiant,
white smile that shined like the stars. The image of Armin smiling wide and
bright on some sunny afternoon, refused to be broken by Eren's increasing
barbarity.
          Eren didn't realize he was crying until the tears dropped down onto
the monster beneath him. Something shifted in his chest, snapped in his brain,
and suddenly his eyes were glowing even brighter. A ferocious roar burst from
his lungs, and with that beautiful smile clear in his mind, he flipped the
beast over and sunk his teeth into its throat.
          All the hatred within him swelled at once as the delightful crunch
rang in his ears. He ripped away with ease, flesh and bits of vein dangling
from his mouth. The monster lay twitching, suffocating on its own blood with
eyes so wide and pitiful that it made him sick.
         His gaze landed on the creature’s testicles, and he spit out the flesh
between his teeth and hissed. He took no time to taunt now; he knew what he
wanted to do and did it. After snapping bones like twigs, ripping the beast’s
balls off wasn't even satisfying.
         Jamming them into the beast's eye sockets however, felt like second
nature. Blood oozed around Eren's fingers as he forced the testes into the
monster's skull, and he could hear it's heartbeat stuttering to a stop. But
still his utter loathing for thing raged on.
         “Eren,” the sound of his name cut through his thoughts, his head
snapping to the sound. In this state, he could barely recognize Mikasa as the
sister he loved. But he understood when the young woman said simply, “He's
dead.”
          It was her way of saying that’s enough. And she was right. The
skinless monster writhing at her feet however, was still very much alive.
          Armin's laugh rang in his ears, and ERen pounced. Filthy fucking
scum, this was what they earned. How dare they take his smile away. On all
fours like an animal, Eren launched himself onto the next beast, growling
wolfishly as he sought out the rushing pulse of the jugular.
          He thought he could hear that same voice again, but it was barely a
whisper compared to that pounding heart. Eren had to hear it stop, or else he
would go insane. Snap, crunch, and he had windpipe and carotid artery dripping
blood between his teeth. With another one of the beasts struggling and
sputtering, he should have been satisfied—why couldn't he stop?!
          Kill kill kill! his Titan roared, louder even than the girl shouting
his name. The emerald embers of his eyes scanned the room desperately for
another monster to slaughter.
          There, Eren realized, gaze locking onto the noble from the party. A
tall figure was holding him in place, as if begging for the creature to be put
down. Crush it, devour it, kill kill kill, his mind bellowed, and Eren let out
a roar to match.
          He tore across the room like a lion after prey, fingers aimed like
claws as his jaws widened in preparation. He saw the tall figure tighten his
grip as if bracing for impact, but there would be no protecting the thing in
his grasp. Eren would—
          With a sharp yelp, Eren was kicked aside by a boot to his gut. He was
flung as easily as an overeager pup, skidding across the floor as he tried to
register what even happened.
          Suddenly the figures he saw had faces he recognized, names he knew.
The blur fell away, and he saw Commander Erwin holding Balto—and Captain Levi.
Levi still had his leg extended in a side kick, looking as weary and unamused
as ever. He said something monotone, but it was as if they were a thousand
miles apart.
          It wasn't until he heard her voice say, “Eren, it's alright.” Mikasa.
          Suddenly it was as if the world had burst into color. Eren's emotions
came rushing back, and his raging adrenaline was replaced by exhaustion. He
stared at his hands, watching them shrink before his very eyes. When did I
shift?Did I shift?! he wondered frantically, wobbling to his feet.
           But as he stood, he could feel his skin shifting, his bones
realigning to fit his average, human frame—a size which was at least half what
he was currently returning from.
            “Mikasa…” he murmured, blinking at her slowly. “Did I...did I
shift?”
           She smiled softly and nodded, pulling out a clean handkerchief. “It
was like a partial transformation. But it's okay now, Armin is safe.” She
dabbed at his face gently, pulling back a cloth vibrant with blood.
            “Where is he?!” Eren blurted, panic shocking his heart like
electricity.
            “Hanji took him to an infirmary. I promise, he's safe now,” she
soothed, and continued to fuss with the blood matting his hair.
            “But we can, we can go see him, right?” Eren persisted, licking at
his lips in an attempt to help clean himself up. Anxiety was swelling within
him like a balloon. But at the same time, somehow, having Mikasa there helped
keep falling apart.
           “We’ll go right now,” she replied, squeezing his hand tightly in her
own. Eren's fear and sadness and shock for Armin was all reflected in her own
eyes, but no regret. Before they left, Eren looked down at the corpses and spit
on what used to be their faces.
           Commander Erwin didn't say a word to the cadets as they passed,
despite their blood-soaked uniforms. But he did stare down at Balto, grip
bruising on the disgusting man’s chin. “If you'd rather not be next,” the purr
dropped from Erwin's voice, “you're going to obey every command I make.”
           No negotiations were required.
***** Sunshine *****
Chapter Summary
     A short end for a long ordeal.
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys, thank you so much for the incredible amounts of patience!
     I've been in college for about a month now, so I'm still adjusting
     and making friends instead of writing (whoops). I hope you enjoy this
     little chapter to end a fic I had way too much fun writing. Thank you
     again for all your support!
     P.S. Happy birthday Terminally_Fated. You're also a loser.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
BAM! The door slammed so hard into the wall that the handle got stuck there.
“Where is he?!” Eren blurted, scanning the infirmary frantically.
“Excuse me but…” a nurse began fearfully, but Mikasa caught up as she began to
speak. The combined ferocity in their eyes made her stop trying instantly.
That and the fact that Eren and Mikasa's uniforms were still drenched in blood.
“Armin Arlert. Survey Corps cadet. Where is he?” Mikasa asked bluntly, her
voice never leaving a monotone dipped in steel.
“H-he just got of s-surgery. He-he’s still unc-concious. You should wai--”
“Where. Is. He?” Mikasa interjected coldly. She didn't understand why this was
so difficult; all she wanted was to make sure her Armin was safe.
The nurse flinched with each word, staring with an all too real fear of death.
“Th-third floor. Fifth bed.” Eren and Mikasa were already halfway up the stairs
by the time she had finished her sentence.
Where is he? Where is he? Where is he? they both thought in unison, flying up
the steps. Mikasa was so worried she could barely breathe. When the midget had
kicked that door in, Armin had looked…She could kill someone just thinking
about it. But the feeling that squeezed her heart until it hurt was the one she
hated the most: fear. Mikasa hadn't been so scared for Armin since their last
expedition.
Eren's rage was slowly draining from his body. The same cold-blooded fear
Mikasa felt was taking its place, setting him on edge with anxiety. I just want
to see him, he thought brokenly. It felt as though the stairs went up forever.
Eren had never been so afraid to reach the top.
Another door thrown open, and they raced into the room. They both glanced
around frantically, zeroing in on long blond hair. “ARMIN!” Eren and Mikasa
both cried out, in shock, in relief, in outrage, in grief.
They bolted to his side, one on Armin's left and one on his right. He looked so
incredibly fragile on the hospital bed, heavily bandaged and pale as a ghost.
His name had been shouted but Armin's eyes didn't so much as flicker.
Eren wanted to reach out, touch him, just to make sure he was actually there.
But his fingers hovered above Armin's own, afraid of his unchecked strength. I
don't want to hurt him, he thought weakly, tears prickling at his eyes. He had
just gone on a rampage; the last thing he wanted was for some of his remaining
power to hurt Armin even more. I already failed you enough.
Mikasa was his polar opposite. She touched Armin fondly, brushing locks of hair
from his face with the tenderness of a mother. I won't let anything else happen
to you, she swore silently, unbreakable resolve radiating from her body. Mikasa
stroked Armin's cheek softly with the back of her hand, and then slowly traced
down his arm. It was like the more she touched him, the more proof she had that
he was actually there.
“Mm...mmm,” Armin let out a small moan, squirming as he squeezed his eyes
tightly.
“Armin?!” Eren and Mikasa shouted together, leaning in closely with glistening
eyes. “Armin, are you awake?” Mikasa added, voice edged in panic.
“Y...yeah,” he rasped, blue eyes slowly blinking open. He was too slow to see
how his best friends had both cringed at the sound of his voice, harsh and
cracked beyond belief. Armin looked between them, his mind muddled and body
aching. They both leaned in with baited breath when he opened his mouth, but he
simply mumbled, “I'm tired.”
Eren cracked a smile first, and then Mikasa followed. But she was the first to
laugh incredulously, and Eren joined in. After everything that has happened to
him, everything Armin had been through, he just wanted to rest. Of course
revenge hadn't been the first thing on his mind. That’s what he has us
for, Eren thought with a smirk, glancing at his sister.
“That's okay, go back to sleep,” Mikasa ordered, running her hand through
Armin's hair soothingly. He leaned into the touch, a small smile on his face as
he closed his eyes again. Mikasa took his hand in the other, which made him pat
around on Eren's side of the bed.
When his fingers grazed Eren's, his smile grew even wider. Eren couldn't help
but stare in shock. Even when he didn't trust himself, and after the hours of
torture Armin had endured, he still trusted him without hesitation.
Eyes burning, the tears threatened to fall. But he took Armin's hand, grip
tight without crushing a single delicate bone; just as Armin had believed he
would. With his only family at his side, Armin was able to slip back into sleep
easily, his Hell long forgotten.
Mikasa knew it wouldn't stay that way. Once he had really woken up, the
anesthetic worn off, his memories would come flooding back. But they could deal
with the fallout once the bomb dropped.
For now, they were going to enjoy this moment. Sunlight streamed onto Armin's
bed from the open window, and the warmth was far too tempting. Eren and Mikasa
climbed onto the bed beside him, still gripping his hands like his life
depended on it.
And together, they laid side by side. It took only a moment for the two of them
to join Armin in sleep; and in the light, huddled together on one bed like they
were young, it was easier to believe everything was going to be okay.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you so much for enjoying this fic!
End Notes
     P.S. sorry it's taken so long for me to post anything, I've been so
     preoccupied with a 1960s fic that I haven't gotten much of anything
     else done.
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