![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
because i was born into this world
Who: eren jaeger & you!
When: night of the 13th!
Where: --
What: dream a lil' dream event catch-all! those who would like a memory are welcomed to choose from the list i have here, just get in contact with me either through pm, plurk (![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
liberos) or discord (owlie#3609), and i'll write you a starter like the ones below ♥!
Warnings: not only written content but visuals will be in the comments for major attack on titan spoilers, drinking, suicide ideation, violence, gore, cannibalism, mentions of rape, abuse, slavery, child prostitution, war and genocide. specific warnings for each will be in the headers!
[ when things start out as a dream, eren doesn't necessarily start it aware that it's a dream he walks in. his dragon form, a little smaller than an adult stag, doesn't question why or how he's ventured into the looking glass house— only that it called and compelled him with whispers he couldn't actually hear, hums and the ethereal glows beyond what the eyes could see, the same way it would when it was time for him to return to what was beyond that.
it doesn't take long to find his mirror; a plain one that stretches tall with a simple wooden frame to those who know little to nothing of eren jaeger. for those who know more, or even more will see the bone-shapes carved into the wood to resemble a spine. ribs seem to span into wings and copper chains hang from one of the corners, broken and snapped. the dragon, once staring at the reflective shine his eyes give into the mirror for long enough and catching his breath, dives into the ripple of this mirror's fake surface in hopes that it will return him to where he belongs, to where he needs to be. you too, may go after him, or perhaps the mirror, for one reason or another, calls you to venture and enter. or maybe you fall in? anything can happen in a dream. there's no one truly stopping you, and when you do, you fall into a vast pool of fractured events and voices.
you fall into a pool, and into one of many memories. ]
When: night of the 13th!
Where: --
What: dream a lil' dream event catch-all! those who would like a memory are welcomed to choose from the list i have here, just get in contact with me either through pm, plurk (
Warnings: not only written content but visuals will be in the comments for major attack on titan spoilers, drinking, suicide ideation, violence, gore, cannibalism, mentions of rape, abuse, slavery, child prostitution, war and genocide. specific warnings for each will be in the headers!
[ when things start out as a dream, eren doesn't necessarily start it aware that it's a dream he walks in. his dragon form, a little smaller than an adult stag, doesn't question why or how he's ventured into the looking glass house— only that it called and compelled him with whispers he couldn't actually hear, hums and the ethereal glows beyond what the eyes could see, the same way it would when it was time for him to return to what was beyond that.
it doesn't take long to find his mirror; a plain one that stretches tall with a simple wooden frame to those who know little to nothing of eren jaeger. for those who know more, or even more will see the bone-shapes carved into the wood to resemble a spine. ribs seem to span into wings and copper chains hang from one of the corners, broken and snapped. the dragon, once staring at the reflective shine his eyes give into the mirror for long enough and catching his breath, dives into the ripple of this mirror's fake surface in hopes that it will return him to where he belongs, to where he needs to be. you too, may go after him, or perhaps the mirror, for one reason or another, calls you to venture and enter. or maybe you fall in? anything can happen in a dream. there's no one truly stopping you, and when you do, you fall into a vast pool of fractured events and voices.
you fall into a pool, and into one of many memories. ]
@viren (cw: violence, gore, death)
[ this memory is— an odd one. a father just leaves his home, says good-bye to his family and he's off to another day of work. a smaller eren waves at him from the patio, no older than ten. his mother is by his side and so was a girl around his age, doing the same. thing is— grisha seems to be staring through a much older counterpart of his son in front of him, going pale with a shaken, horrified look in his gaze as he watches a tragedy unfold behind his mind's eye. a memory from the future. no one else seems to notice. you would look the same too, if your child son was right next to you one moment, then an older ghost appears to you the next. and no one else seems to goddamn notice the invisible elephant in the room.
the older seeming eren is accompanied by another man, and they both follow grisha along to a secluded chapel. viren, of course, would be compelled to follow the limits of eren's memories. there's a hidden entryway under a carpet and furniture, leading into a basement that he goes directly for, as if he's been here before. he descends. descends a spiraling staircase that brings those who follow into a massive crystal cavern— it's the same color and texture of the obsidian dragon's horns and talons, found and waiting at the cavern's mouth to proceed.
there're people in there. a family of seven, half of them only children, all in flowing white gowns and hardly suspecting an intruder in their sacred grounds, if the shock isn't apparent with the way the children huddle close to their firm standing guardians. there, grisha begins to beg them: king of the walls! you must kill the titans who'll attack, or else my wife, my children . . . everyone will be eaten!
no one seems to look at the other two men supposedly in the room— their eyes are all on grisha, the same way both dreamwalkers go completely unnoticed. the "king of the walls" is a woman, who steps forth and denies a desperate grisha of his wish. the time has come for all subjects of ymir to face judgement, she announces, ending with: in order to protect the world, we must accept our sins. our only choice is to perish.
the bearded man comments with eren: i could get along with her— but soon, this family will be slaughtered by grisha. you said you saw this memory before. you said it made you lose all hope in our father . . . was that another lie, eren? his brother halts his words, swallows them— because eren is glaring at the family with a glower as sharp as an unused dagger made for splitting flesh clean. the more grisha implores her, questions if ignorance is truly the way to go, frieda only decorates words already spoken. if we remain ignorant and accept the world's rage . . . we eldians will be the only ones who have to die.
at this point, the ghost of eren jaeger is seething an aura of objection so great it solely amplifies the tension in the room, and grisha could feel it enough to peek over his shoulder and search for whatever it was that was making him profusely uneasy. ]
As an advisor, [ speaks the dragon, finally, feeling the same ire beginning to prick at his scales and make his tail rattle just listening to her depreciate every single life born to this island as he stalks into an irritable, circular pace. ] what would you say to that?
no subject
viren's gaze flicks over the occupants of the cavern, noting each of them and their positions in their own right. he almost has to physically step back from where he observes to comprehend it all; but even as a mere observer, he's not unaffected. his heart sinks with the weighty atmosphere and even heavier declarations. and still, something is off that he's yet to place, just enough that it itches at the back of his mind.
the (present) eren addresses him, and he startles in shifting his attention. shoulders pulling back, he casts a sidelong look at the other dragon, reticent in that even if he is familiar. his own tail flicks. ]
That depends, as to who I am advising. [ he begins, cautiously. ] You, Eren?
no subject
[ but many would argue that eren jaeger was clearly an usurper. his movements still, if not only for his tail that slowly hangs in a curl behind him. grisha seems to speak many words to them, things neither zeke nor the royal bloodline knew, and nothing that would truly make sense to viren. only the words here and there that would hint: obeys no one and capable of knowing the future. the king of the walls looks disarmed, and from there, the father announces with an audible shake in his voice: from here . . . i’ll eat the founder, and put an end to the royal bloodline.
the children run back with their guardians with cries and shrieks of fright, does as frieda tells them when grisha pulls out a scalpel from his coat pocket. his hand, it’s trembling. that’s the future that’s set out for us, said with something grim, and honestly— the man is terrified, himself. he hesitates. he waits longer than he should for someone who’s just announced a slaughter.
it’s only the clatter of metal that hits the ground and grisha’s knees following suit to confirm: he wasn’t going to do it. he hadn’t the heart to, and began to cry right then and there. ]
But she is.
no subject
[ it's a pitaible site, for certain, although viren doesn't allow any sympathy to show on his face; he's seen many crumple in the face of impossible choices before; what the man's tried to take onto his shoulders is no easy task. and yet, although he holds no ill=will for the fallen man, the thought still crosses his mind: weak. ]
I think she's making a mistake.
[ oh, much more than that, that she's wrong. but unconsciously or not, viren's adopted the type of language that he would when speaking with a monarch -- someone above his position. royals could be such stubborn, difficult things. ]
As a King, her subjects rely, and should be able to trust, in her judgement for the sake of their betterment. She should put her people first.
[ now -- that's a bit of a strong statement. do their people lie even before the safety of the world, as is so alleged? strangely, extreme notions aside: this subject of counsel isn't unfamiliar situation to viren. ]
[ he looks to eren, the one of the present. ]
"Only choice," she has said. But... there must be another way.
no subject
he only had one job, one grand scheme depended on this turning point and it would’ve been erased within seconds. all progress, all deaths— all would’ve been put to waste because grisha jaeger couldn’t give up his humanity. couldn’t give up his lab-coat clean sense of justice. what twitches anger into the ghostly eren is just that: there was a start, and his father had been unwilling to take his duty and turn the page. if this had happened, his son would be dead, fed to them. whether it was greater than them all or a selfish act towards protecting eren’s priorities was difficult to say. ]
. . . He’s a good man.
[ from the dragon’s murky tone, it wasn’t a compliment. eren’s brother begins to question: “that’s . . . impossible. grisha massacred this family. he took the founder. didn’t he, eren? it’s not not as if the past could just . . . change.” the answer to all those questions comes when eren’s apparition steps forward, and speaks with a ghastly bite over grisha’s fallen, sunken head and shoulders: “what are you doing?” his words cut like blades through flesh, even though his voice doesn’t echo against the walls as the others have. it floats, it almost felt like a whisper that settled into the back of one’s mind, but heavy like an anchor. overruling like a crack of thunder. “stand, dad.”
grisha doesn’t look, doesn’t quite know what’s happening or if he’s even hearing actual words. he only looks to his lap, wide eyed and going three tones paler. ]
That’s why I chose my way.
no subject
[ they've discussed this, with all their takes on war, picking sides, deciding battles. the unending lengths they would pursue. it roots viren to the spot. should it have been something he hadn't already come to terms with long ago, it may have sent a chill down his spine -- he's only human, after all. ]
[ but eren had told him, before. it's "them," or "us." and he would choose "us." ]
[ eventually, viren settles on an inquiry; his tone is uninvolved, but still weighty, ]
Will you be successful, Eren?
no subject
[ it could’ve been . . . that amazing sight. it could’ve been a disaster if things went as planned on someone else’s watch; paradis as an island was doomed to destruction with only a matter of time in the way of every life present disrupted and gone because of fear. because of hate. eren rejects this. eren says fuck you to the rest of the world, and his draconic eyes slant with fiery rage. the memory’s eren, his presence kneels close to his father, close to the side of his face and glares, whispers words that makes the man cower in place.
“did you forget? why are you here?” his son’s ghost presses his forehead to his temple, and words of ire are poured into his ears. grisha only watches forward in a trance, unreacting to what’s being said to him, but at the same time . . . it clearly affects his psych. eren is manipulating him,
“isn’t it to get revenge for your little sister, eaten by dogs?”
zeke steps back with an unexpected fright in his eyes as a horror only happens because eren causes it. he continues to feed grisha, and from the tears comes clenched jaws. the words are cold, uncensored and haunting: “for your fellow restorationists. for dina. for krüger. you move forward to avenge them. even if you die. even after you die.”
they work like a spell. grisha’s breathing accelerates, with a new flame eating away at the despair that moments ago consumed him. he’s angry. he’s angry and it’s everything that eren stands for in energy as he raises his head to freida, who quickly urges her family to get back. grisha snaps his scalpel back into his grasp and raises it high, while eren gives the last remaining push: “you started this story . . . didn’t you?”
his father stabs himself, right through the palm, and from their bursts too many lights. the dragon shields viren from the fissuring crystal as two giants begin to form: the first, where grisha stood, and the second, where the king stood. the fight lasts little— with humanity’s trapped animosity unfolding, grisha exerts his role: pinning the founding titan down, clamping her naps between his teeth, ripping the entirety of her spine clean off and swallowing it.
he kills each child and guardian after that, one by one. under his foot, in his bare hands, smothered and smeared across stone. he kills them all in brutal carnage that was not his, all except for one: the father. he escapes, and from there, so does grisha, prying a hole through the ceiling that the dragon follows after— he takes viren into his hind talons, by a grip on his shoulders, and launches up into fresh air, smoke, steam, ash and blood. ]
I’ll do everything I have to, to get there.
no subject
he had taken an instinctive step back, the sight of the titans more than enough to draw a gasp. he doesn't have long to reflect; eren's answer rings in his ears, even over the noise of tearing flesh and the cracking fissure of bone. he wonders if the cavern is to collapse, next.
the talons sink their grip into his shoulders, and his hands likewise latch onto the dragon's scaled ankles, claws taking their respective hold. he chokes out an ill-conceived protest, coughs against the rapid changing of atmosphere - fire leaks from his mouth. eren. thankfully, although it's something to ponder, viren's first response isn't to remark with amazement on the strange abilities of eren of the past.
so instead, less eloquently considered, ]
Where - [ he can begin to catch his breath from what they'd just witnessed, adrenaline muddling his thoughts. ] - are we going?
no subject
To the end. [ he would only be allowed to leave when the memory’s bulk had been completed. from where they landed, a view of the destroyed chapel and collapsed, steaming giant draws attention— grisha’s stumbling out of it, tired and swept and falling to his knees. “I killed them— crushed them all,” the sobs, once dried now return with a realizing horror. “even the children . . . with my hands, i felt it—!”
as if he’s only now realized what he’s done, grisha shrieks out to nothing as if a ghost would answer him, appear to him. nothing would. “eren!! i killed the reiss family!! other than the father . . . are you happy now?! is this what you wanted?! was this really what i had to do . . . to save eldia?!” he looks left. he glances right, desperately, listens for something— and earns nothing more than another reason to cry, harsher into his own lap. “why won’t you show me everything—? the walls being destroyed, when it happens . . . if carla is safe? was this really . . . the only way?”
nothing. but there’s another presence he senses; his eldest son is recognized, seen in front of his father as a brief apparition given solid form. grisha stands, exclaims, repents to the eldest son, mentions, rather quickly: “from here on out, it’ll all be going eren’s way. to think it could be something so ghastly—” his time to speak is short. he realizes this, and wastes no more time in declaring his love with those three words and an embrace he never gave the bearded blond when he was smaller. “I was a terrible father— I should’ve spent more time playing with you.”
as this happens, the eren of the memory has stationed himself behind his father for who knew how long— and from his father’s shoulder, zeke stares back. wide eyes tear, frighten, as his younger brother flares back with the growing audacity of a devil seconds away from atrocity. “zeke . . . please . . . you need to stop eren,” are the final pleas his father can give into his ear before the memory is dispelled in a crack of static.
there’s no image. no floor. no space. only emptiness. the single sound that pulses around the blackness of the realm eren and zeke stood in were the older brother’s racing breath. hitching, cracking, wheezing out a quivering it was you— before eren’s voice cuts the pitch emptiness with frigid, blank and calculated delivery that almost seems mocking from the perspective:
“you haven’t gotten to the part where i eat our old man, yet.”
the dream’s footing drops, and ends with a feeling that viren has just touched something sinister: what blinding, monstrous determination could do. ]