because i was born into this world

[usurpers]

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 (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. ]

Comments

@leslie (cw: animal death)

[usurpers]

[ sometimes, gathering firewood in the outskirts of shinganshina brought about rare surprises. a smaller eren spots such one day, scurrying over to a snow white spot blustering helplessly on the ground. what’s that? the younger girl with him asks, peering into the thicket, and the boy with her adds in exclamation: it’s a bird!! it’s hurt!

indeed it was— a little bird that stuck out like a sore thumb, its wing bleeding and hanging off its side. it struggled tremendously to take off, too exhausted to try anything but stay still when the two children bound up to it and crouch. the firewood collection is forgotten. the younger eren cradles the special bird in his hands as it breathed quickly through its own panic, and ran as hastily as he could to an adult soldier in the city, to ask for his father. as soon as he’s gotten word that grisha was home, eren thanks him and runs. ]

Can you keep up?

[ the older, scalier mr. krüger asks this to leslie in a deep voice she could recognize, and would prefer she stick to him far more than wander about on her own. she could end up somewhere awful, and if she had to fall into any memories, he much preferred this one. she’s never seen his dragon form though, has she? a wyvernish beast that now takes the size of a pony— there was no need for him to be so large and intimidating. ]

@elliot

[usurpers]

[ in the mouth of an alleyway, four boys stand: one smaller than the rest that circle him and his brilliant emerald eyes only biding fury. they whistle and kick at the dirt by his feet, but the younger one, eren, is unmoving. voices could be heard by now when drawn to this sight tucked away from adult supervision, especially little eren’s— small but never contained by his stature.

give it back! the younger demands gravely. the trio of bullies only chuckles, and the largest one he faces scoffs back and rolls his eyes, mocking and playing with his sternness. i told you, i can’t. ‘cause i already ate it.

the dragon only watches with his back facing the street, the end of his tail twitching back and forth and blocking most of the entranceway. it was a time that was simpler. it was innocent and he was ignorant and— eren honestly didn't know which was worse. the pang of nostalgia that hits him was something that was lost forever. it was still a time he could appreciate, anyway, even with his liberty taken so young. he had a family he could turn to. friends. mean boys to play with. ]

@alex (cw: violence, death, mentions of child prostitution)

[usurpers]

[ a young boy and his father near a secluded cabin surrounded by pine, knocking on the door and waiting. she's your age, the man comments and suggests: make friends with her. eren, at nine and wrapped in a red scarf and black coat, retorts. i mean, depending on what she does . . . . his father continues to knock, staring at his son and with a troubled sigh says: eren, this is why you only have one friend.

no one answers. grisha calls out to them, strange that they weren't home when their check-up was made. he calls out as he opens the door himself, cautiously: hello? is anyone home? they were, but when the door croaks wide open, the light of day shined into the cabin: they weren't alive. a man and a woman were discarded in their own blood and the mess of their ransacked home hours earlier. grisha bolts to them to immediately check their pulses, and curses when he finds nothing. eren, his father asks gravely, was the girl around?

no. curt and severed from the scene of violence he's just stepped into. the father speaks out loud of the plan: he'll call the military police brigade and request a search party. eren, you wait at the base of the mountain. the boy says nothing, only staring, but— his stare is faraway. he doesn't look at the bodies. he doesn't show a touch of disturbance. only that he was far, and his mind premediating what he was going to do.

do you understand?

the boy nods, but he hardly heard an actual word. ]

@paloma (cw: needles, gore, cannibalism)

[usurpers]

[ dipping into this memory leads paloma straight into a forest in the thick of night. the moon is obscured by dense clouds and the pink hue of fire lights, accompanied by the panicked rustle of civilization farther back. far farther back. a man walks deeper into the obscurity the trees provide, all while holding the hand of a sleepy child being led deeper and deeper into the thicket.

dad? the child asks while stifling a yawn and becoming more alert, a child too young to carry around swollen, baggy eyes with all the crying he’s done. closer inspection would reveal similarities the child has to one dragon: big blue eyes, a distinct facial structure. where’re we going?

eren’s father doesn’t answer, dread filling his downcast eyes and beginning to swell with tears. not too far back, the dragon escorts his guest from where she didn’t mean to come to, it seems. his talons rustle the scattered leaves fallen onto the woodland floor, and nothing changes. nothing should change. nothing needed to change. ]

There’s no way back if you keep going.

[ she’ll be stuck in the limits of what eren remembered, no going backward or forwards until it was done. a warning, merely, but it’s a touch detached with no signs of underlying, problematic feelings involving what came next. he’s too far gone to be affected, already. he’s long ago accepted what he did and why that was. ]

@soren (cw: violence, gore, cannibalism)

[usurpers]

[ trost is in shambles. smoke rises to a mostly blue sky and brings with it a thick smell of uneasiness. massive bells ring an alarm for the abandoned, walled district, and from the houses left and right on fire or in ruins from fallen boulders, you'll see heads peeking out from the top of rooftops: massive giants, ranging anywhere from five to fifteen meters in height, shuffling aimlessly about the streets and swiping for small things zipping through the air. small things— people. uniformed fighters and soldiers stationed to take down their enemies, and judging by the screams and bloody carnage left behind from mangled corpses and half eaten torsos, stray arms and legs a titan couldn't bother to finish eating— they aren't doing so well.

soren will luckily find himself on one of the many roofs still standing, but far from the danger that lingered enough to damage him. almost immediately, a voice of ire, young and reckless, screams: thomas! wait! it's eren, if one could recognize not only a face clean of scales and a frame entirely human— he's young, almost too young to be wielding the blades in his hands and the symbol on his shoulders and heart.

and he's going after a wandering abnormal, its chest, mouth and throat littered with blood. its limbs are long and its face a twisted horror. his squad-mates scream after him: eren, no! don't go off on your own, it's too dangerous! he ignores them, without meaning to, but he does. because all the young eren saw was blinding red. his hatred spewed from his words of vengeance, and he declares as he spins into combat with the high-speed gas propellers that shoot him into flight: i'm not going to let you get away with that!

the trajectory of where the young eren was going was eminent— and it wasn't that titan. the soaring dragon (eren, older) had descended into a headlong skim over the rooftops and had overseen the unsuspecting invader of his life from above in the form of a circling silhouette of black. he barks when his talons peel off ceramic covering once he's landed, mostly for the other fellow dragon to move lest he wanted to get showered with debris and a hurling body in four, three— ]

Get back.

[ he says it coldly and quickly, smacking the fellow back with his tail if he didn't take the hint the first time. ]

@julian (cw: gore)

[usurpers]

[ the air breathed in whatever enclosure julian now finds himself in is hot. it burns the trachea all the way into the lungs, fans out like fire itself and hurts. undeniably suffocating, what's worse are the nauseous fumes that rise with the heat and slowly choke the next waiting breath out. the walls surrounding them are of smooth muscle. look down, and the pool that soaks him isn't entirely liquid— it's viscous and nearly black, smells of acid, rot and thick iron. buoyant are limbs unattached to bodies, dead corpses, heads, torsos and torn flesh that's hard to decipher what it used to be.

some of the people in there are still alive, just like the teen that comes crashing down from the only way in: a sphincter just above their heads. the splash is slushy and repugnant, his eyes are shut tight only to snap open, look around him. he holds his arm up to try and smack the pile of dead bodies away from him, but it's gone. he doesn't have an arm anymore, snapped clean off. the young eren shrieks as he tries to flail back from the half-eaten remains of his comrades, a leg missing as well and nearly going submersed in viscera from trying to use it to step away— he chokes up another sound, not so much a scream now more than a strained retch, oh god.

they're in a titan's stomach, and this was nothing short of a nightmare. this can't—! he starts, through shocked sobbing, this can't be happening—! ]

@mettaton (cw: violence, self harm, death, gore, cannibalism)

[usurpers]

[ these would be peaceful plains with the view of a marvelous sunset and dancing wildflowers, had it not been for the butchery that was taking place. a younger mikasa watches on in horror. a young eren with his hands steaming and a lack of fingers (all of his fingers, with self inflicted bites that disfigured him) kneels in front of a horrific titan that seemed to smile wide as she pulled apart the entrails of a man in her hands. half a man. his legs were gone and what remained of his spine dangled until the titan pushed the soldier's lifeless corpse through her teeth and into her mouth, holding her hands there to keep the gore from slipping between the spaces of her fingers as bone cracked in her jaws.

it was a horrible, disgusting sound filled with snaps, pops and gurgles; the only other sound that blared was eren's desperate cries. at first it sounds like he's laughing. his unbelieving guffaws slip into despondent wails. he screams, he shrieks for his mother, he grieves that he's useless. that he's weak. that nothing has changed. i'm still just . . . a boy who can't do anything!! he cries, his own face wet with overflowing tears. he inhales, he pulls his hands to his head— and he screams. long, hysterically and hopelessly.

mikasa looks over her shoulder and sees beyond the dragon that cranes his long neck down to watch her. she looks around them, where her comrades are all cornered. a blond boy waves his sword at an approaching titan as he cradles a fainted friend in his arms, and he screams too. the giant attempts to reach for him and he could only back into a tree. there are more. they fly with their maneuver gear, they swing to slay their towering enemies, but they're too outnumbered. there're too many for the amount of soldiers they had to fight on. one by one, more and more are lost in their own death howls, right before they're eaten alive.

eren, she speaks, gently and detached from what's happening, and the young boy's attention snaps to her in a jolt, his face pale, stained with tears and his emerald eyes wide with shock. that's not true, she says, with a comforting smile that seems misplaced with titans nearing them from behind, and the smiling titan in front of them finishing her meal. eren looks to his comrades, with equal horror, and mikasa calls him back with tranquility.

listen to me, eren. there's something i want to say.

there's something eren (older) hadn't noticed at the time, perhaps. he stations himself just behind his younger counterpart, his dragonic skull following the boy's shoulder, and stationing his eye level just enough to recreate hearing the words meant for him. ]

She gave up. [ eren speaks, out loud and for the scent he knows his tongue caught as he visited his memories, specifically one with the both of them involved. ] When there's no way, she always does.

[ floch, for the worst, was right and he didn't want to believe it at the time or pay attention to it for the sake of their friendship. it wasn't the first time that mikasa had thrown in the towel, and now, years later— eren uses it against her, or at least tries to. did mettaton know that? his expressions are difficult to read when masked behind an elongated, nearly cheekless maw and a scaley hide. what's as bright as ever, and as sullen as a rainy day are his eyes. pin-slit and reptilian, but still full of stories wrapped in sorrow. ]

@jonas

[usurpers]

[ the hospital had its gates open, mostly for patients to get some fresh air with the companionship of a nurse. most, if not all of them are mentally unstable from the way they act and fumble about, drool or attempt to make nonsense conversation with their caretakers. some don't stop rocking back and forth or only remember how to say one word. the majority have physical scars that demote movement or impair the senses— missing eyes, burn victims, amputees and so forth. exceedingly, these patients are war veterans and victims of traumatic disorders, young and old.

and so seemed one, unkempt and unshaven with long black hair sitting alone out in the yard, missing a leg and eye, covered with cloth. he keeps to himself and talks to no one, until— he spots a boy, and recognizes him. heeey, he calls, shuffling his crutch out of the way to make more room on the bench he occupied. it was a gesture for the child to come sit with him, and further endorses that by patting his hand against the now empty spot. thanks for the other day.

the boy ends up walking over and sits with the man, smiling and greeting him with kind words. they even exchange their names: the boy was falco. the man was kruger.

kruger was also the dragon sitting next to the bench. ]

@itachi (cw: violence, gore, cannibalism)

[usurpers]

[ the seatings, the stage, the rooftops— wherever a dreamwalker lands, they're still apart of the thousands of people gathered at liberio's center for a formal occasion. bleachers are raised and crowded, soldiers station on top of buildings to offer strategic protection, citizens are situated outside their windows to listen just above a cleared stage, lit like christmas, and all focus is honed onto a single man speaking out to the public. he speaks of horrors, of battles, of peace being threatened by a man— no, a monster, who threatens all of humanity. his name is eren jaeger, they say, but further instigation to band together to fight this threat chimes with the crowd. they cry, cheer for him, agree with his speech with applause and heartfelt roars that hum with the air— willy tybur is a man of peace, honor, and publicity.

to the enemies on paradis, he bellows, earning one stretch of respected silence that would surely follow a standing ovation: this is a declaration of war—

as if programmed to the word war, the earth trembles, the building just behind the stage bursts from the ground upwards. the families outside their windows are crushed in the sudden split of brick and stone, the stage splinters to make way for the titan that explodes from the ground. it roars an ugly cry like thunder shrieking to no end, lifting its fist high and bringing it down against the rest of the stage into a deep splinter— and right on the speaker.

the crowd is silent, struck with terror enough to lose their voices. the soldiers are misplaced and can only stare from their posts rather than act. the titan crushes the man in its fingers like snapping toothpicks, effortlessly, throws him into the air, and swallows what remains of his mangled body whole in a single chomp. reality takes hold of the city and one after another, people begin to scream until the cries become a terrifying symphony. some trample over each other to get out of the way, children too small to swim in the crowd are thrown and bludgeoned, struck to death by panicking legs much larger than them. some are already crushed or impaled by hurled pieces of rock, wood, and metal, others are soon to be crushed as the titan prepares to land another devastating blow on those who could do nothing but flee.

what the horse-sized dragon hosting the recollection does not like about this is that— one of these things is not like the other. there's a smell here that sticks out from the dust, blood and rubble. it is an invading scent to his tongue that he's not hostile to, but more so concerned. things that happen in dreams lately have existing repercussions in the waking world, and he can't tell their skill level through his tongue. only that there's magic, a lot of it, but not a honed abundance you'd see in a year-old coven veteran.

he glides with bat-like wings close to wherever the magic takes him, and knows exactly where to evade his own strikes when he dips moments before the titan swings its arms back to gain momentum for what seems to be like the movements one would make right before jumping. ]

@judar

[usurpers]

[ when judar finds himself through a door closed shut behind him, he’ll be in a room with five others: the sleek black dragon overseeing the memory, and four a part of the memory. a blond boy, mikasa, a scared-shitless little girl with a bloody lip, and— eren, without the dragon parts, the palm of his hand sliced enough to pool blood beneath. the small girl eyes his hand, specifically, and trembles with held breathing. she’s terrified of him.

i wanted to talk to you guys in a quiet setting, eren starts, his eyes tired and his voice leveled. he reassures his childhood friends and +1 brat who killed sasha that this could happen with no quarrel at all. actually, eren— we wanted to speak to you, the blond mentions, and once eren affirms that everyone they know are just being relocated, the questions from armin start: why did you attack marley alone? whose side are you on?

silence weighs onto the room with restiveness; eren pushes his heels into the floor underneath the table, causing his chair to tip back and balance on the back legs. like a child already bored of the conversation, or, a somewhat nervous adult that shows them nothing beyond a poker face. he speaks three simple words then, ones that leave his company confused: i am free. ]

@viren (cw: violence, gore, death)

[usurpers]

[ 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?

@mikasa (cw: slavery, gore, abuse, rape, cannibalism)

[usurpers]

[ the primitive tribe mikasa finds herself in is dreary and crowded. only a select few are given the notion of pleasantries, of feasts and wedding celebrations. the rest are slaves, chained, beaten and raptured from their homes. each one’s tongue is removed with pliers and a dagger heated at a fire— so they don’t ever speak up again.

one of you has let a pig get away.

the one who sits on top of a wooden platform and guarded by four burly men wielding spears and axes seems to be the leader, bearded and dressed in furs. he announces to the crowd of slaves he’s collected, tattered, dirty and worn to their limits. unhealthy with brittle nails and frail bodies: if they didn’t say who did it, each slave would have an eye removed. slaves have to need for two eyes.

after a stretching silence, they all begin to point, one after another— to a slave girl, no younger than ten. confused as she turns her head around her, everyone points. was she truly the one to let the pig loose? she couldn’t speak up, and all odds were against her. if she denied, then truly, everyone would suffer under the king’s hand. everyone had saved themselves, and ymir could only pick up what was given to her, kneeling before her master and hanging her head.

very well, the king says, ordering his guards to hold her down and, in front of everyone, as a lesson, gauge both of the little girl’s eyes out, feed them to the hounds, and release her at the forest’s edge. you are free, he tells her, before dispatching his men, with horses and dogs, to hunt her down for sport. they shoot at her, with arrowheads from shoulder to leg, wherever it would hit. she couldn’t see, she falls— and blindly, faltering, she staggers to where her hands feel she could run to amongst the trees. ]

@kaede (cw: violence, gore, freaky alien shit)

[usurpers]

[ cannons firing, gunshots ringing and the rumbling cracks of hurdling debris could only point to warfare— and they're in the middle of it. titans rush left and right, with one in particular feasting on a body close by. two fight amongst each other, with the huskier armored one straddling another with pointed ears and a skinless, exposed maw. familiar, perhaps—? only further when the armored titan lands a punch into the attack titan's skull enough to dent a hole straight through its mouth. the lower titan shrieks, and from its wound its head begins to shine with light. blue crystal cracks, forms and spreads like wildfire from the attack titan's body and traps the armored titan's limbs.

from the lower titan's nape bursts eren, making his escape and sprinting straight for a massive, steaming pile ahead of them. the armored titan once stuck, roars and breaks free, desperately snapping out to grab him. eren! a voice from the steam shouts, and eren himself only turns his head with wide, rushed eyes when the shadow of a hand is upon him.

he only manages to keep going because of two airborne soldiers, rocketing explosives into the titan's hand and face, exploding behind him in a grand burst. everything still felt like movements in slow motion for eren, the dragon, it felt like years when he was in paths waiting for this to tick by when only a second passed in real-time. that second was coming soon, and when he realizes—

he starts looking for her, and where the chimera stood. they were too close. they can't stay here. ]

[fiddlestick]

[He'd come in here by accident, reaching out to touch something on Eren's mirror that seemed askew before falling into the memory itself. So he finds himself appearing right behind the dragon Eren]

Ah- Crap-

[He looks around to see the fighting going on among the children]

H-Hey- shouldn't we do something?

[He hasn't gotten the memo that he can't affect the memories]

[kuroi_taiyo]

[ It's certainly a good place to start, at least. Judar mainly followed a familiar form, a little out of curiosity, and a little as something to do.

Okay, good may be relative, given that apparently Eren's hand was just bleeding onto a table. He just had to think of how this is what Eren was like, how he looked before all the dragon changes. Looking over the people, recognizing at least one of them right now, he finally went to sit by the dragon while listening.

Such a move there though, huh big guy? 'Free' huh? Seems familiar. ]

Well, I can certainly see what traits were always with you, just by this...

@sasuke (cw: gore, cannibalism, death)

[usurpers]

[ ah. we're here. eren wasn't sure if he could say that this was the day everything changed. maybe it was? or maybe it was predetermined earlier the same day. or even earlier, when he wasn't even born yet. when he looks back on it, like right now, his expression draws a dulled blank. a terrible sound cracks, the ground shakes, and just over the 50 meter wall that surrounds shinganshina district, you see it: a steaming colossal titan peeking out from the top. it kicks down the barrier between them in a dreaded pause of silence that follows a boom, causing shattered boulders to rain down on the protected city and cause instant panic. they crush homes and comet into bodies that were seconds before attempting to run. there’s screaming, bolting in every direction in sheer terror from the townspeople fleeing for themselves or carrying their children, some shriek to encounter corpses of loved ones already smashed under flung debris.

the black dragon knows the way without running into the titans that are now pouring through the hole and eating people alive— a given. he follows his much younger counterpart, a girl with dark hair and eyes running after him. mom is still home!! he shouts, fearful of the rock that had just shot its way in the direction of his house.

he feels— nothing, when he sees it all pan out before him again. for something that had once fueled his hate for years, now? it was a tragedy that happened. ]

This way. It's the only safer path. [ the streets already smell like blood, and any more hurdling debris would actually hurt. would titans try and eat them, here? do those count as creatures rather than npcs? ] —I wouldn't wait to test anything.

[ not a matter of skill, here. even the most experienced have fallen in the hands of a mindless titan— with no proper equipment, the best thing to do was keep distance. not even in a dream did he wish one to experience the horror of being consumed alive. ]

@stiles (cw: mentions of cannibalism)

[usurpers]

[ "hey, historia? that guy, eren— can he really turn into a titan?"

"bullshit. he never helps around and he always daydreams, i saw it."

". . . when eren’s a titan, does he eat people?”

these were some of the many questions and opinions the children at the newly built orphanage ask and banter with historia, the island's young queen. blond and even petite, she laughs with her friends nearby as she retells her day with her gaze to a starry night sky, once the children are put to sleep: to a shorter blond, a young man with an undercut and another in a black coat, hair growing out to his shoulders and blue eyes downcast. they come to help around when needed, it being historia's idea from the start when she was first crowned. she doesn't even seem like what you'd expect of a queen, at times like these. "he doesn’t eat people, you know. he uses his titan power to fight. he might zone out from time to time, that’s true. but please, trust in him," were some of the many responses she gave and recited to her company, and not long after, the younger, more melancholy eren responds: i’m… becoming a 'good titan who fights to protect everyone’, huh.

it was clear, from his tone and his forlorn gaze, that the supposed praise was perplexing him. he didn't like it.

eren (the older, more draconic one) gives historia a watchful gaze as she sucks in a breath. none of them knew then, but . . . he wonders, they had a feeling. at least some of them— yet they chose to ignore it. he wondered why, sometimes. then he wonders if that had been necessary and predetermined as well. it isn't long before the memory's holder speaks up to his visitor, wherever he was— he knew he was there.

he considers, mostly just . . . ah, he didn't know. maybe rambling. maybe just grasping for reality to keep him sound. normalcy in speaking with company. the fraternizing his dragon type craves when he's always, at least recently, pushed people as far away as possible. ]

You weren't so far off, after all.

[ it's ironic and a dark, twisted sort of joke, but hey. he's trying to connect without seeming so down. he and his younger counterpart aren't too difficult to recognize as each other— the older eren only had much longer hair, and plenty more scales to account for. appendages, too. ]

@towa (cw: alcohol)

[usurpers]

[ towa will step right into bubbling laughter, slurring words and racing songs strewed with claps. everyone has a cup in hand, filled with drinks that seem a little too strong for the young people indulging— but they do so anyway in tent they've been invited to by the local foreigners. they can't seem to understand each other when they speak, both adhere to different mother tongues, yet one universal movement is understood and followed here: fun. they kick of their shoes and get comfortable, they pour and dance and bump into each other in a drunken flit, which only attracts even more cackling.

a slightly younger eren has an entire cup of scotch blow up in his face when a boy rockets onto his back. he ends up laughing right along with them face dripping and lifting one of the rugs up to wipe his face, oh dear— one of his friends squawk at him for being so barbaric, and another smears out a challenge: drink more.

the air, while a bit of an inebriated mess, is bubbly and well meaning. it almost feels like . . . they're having the time of their lives, and they are. the dragon that visits this memory finds himself tasting loneliness, nostalgia and dolor in his chest for it to have been his last happy moment with them all. he lays close to his counterpart, who soon looks to a grinning mikasa and armin— and smiles softly at the sight. the dragon himself might seem like he's smiling behind the younger eren's shoulder as he overlooked them all. ]

@a2 (cw: child soldiers)

[usurpers]

[ the majority of young boys and girls here are older than fifteen— they're all uniformed, yelling out in unison when prompted by their instructor. yes sir, no sir, i'm a maggot, sir and more occur on these training grounds, preening propper soldiers for the war against humanity's enemy: titans. the name of the game today was balance, allowing all pupils to have a taste of the weaponry that they'll be using as much as they breathe air: maneuver gear. each one has their own body harness, strapped down to their legs and torso with belts and buckles, then suspended in the air by two wires.

the goal was for everyone to remain upright, and all but one in the entire group of success is a grade a failure. when the instructor sees the pooling crowd around one of the columns, he pushes himself through— and sees a boy, hanging completely upside down. many of the boy's colleagues snicker, some watch with uneasiness and hope, crossing their fingers for him to get it right. instructor shadis breaks the uneasiness and throws an anchor right over it.

eren jaeger!! he shrieks, hoarse and merciless, right yourself!!!

eren can't right himself, no matter in which way he twists and wiggles. he tries and tries until the day goes dark, and by the end he might even look like he could cry. i'm not going back! he promises, anger laced with rage in his shaky voice, and while everyone was one break he was there: trying so hard and seething for him to get the balance everyone else did. he doesn't. ]

@emil (cw: violence, needles, human sacrifice, suicide ideation)

[usurpers]

[ the sight is blinding at first‐ because everywhere you look is the glaze of crystal. what seems to be a cavern completely capped and created from bright blue mineral forms pillars, curling staircases and a high altar at its greatest point. chained to that risen floor up above was a sacrifice, kneeling with his arms shackled outward and his head hanging. a man had just finished slicing open a cut across his forehead, taking to the air and swinging with maneuver gear to higher ground. now, fight.

a blonde girl in white robes and a syringe in her hand stands there below the altar, with determination in her eyes as she aims for a place to stab the needle into her forearm and inject herself. she trembles, a stalky short man (her father) bellows out from the distance and safety of a crystal column. hurry, historia! he cries out, and with sufficient trembling from her hand and hesitation to go through with . . . whatever it was she was going to do, her arms fall, her head tips high, and she asks:

why? why aren't you —?

the figure above, shackled to his fate could only choke out a sob that echoes out from the entire cavern. the older eren's horns almost camouflage among the gem-like architecture— it's the same color, same texture. he looks at this memory with a huff, slowly making his was to, well, away from the center. ]

Ignorance changes everything.

[ this was just another event that he caused, down to letting rodd reiss be the only one to survive his family's tragedy. everything was orchestrated, by eren's hand. young eren just didn't even know the half of it. then hadn't been the time. it bothers him somewhat, how hopeless he was. everyone could have their fall, and this was by far his worst. past was past, and what had happened was gone, either way. ]

misc

[usurpers]

(other memory misadventures can go here!♥)

[trouvaille]

( gwen's mirror is intricately molded; the highest point of it swooping down, stylized to evoke without explicitly representing backstage curtains, dripping musical notes and letters in jumbled chaos down the sides. within it—

it is dusk, and not yet true dark. the air is cold with the crispness of imminent snows, turning moisture into frost on windows and grass, and the silence is that unique flavor in modern life of relative isolation. from the broad veranda at the back of the house, the property stretches out toward a pathway and a wood, and the nearest neighbours must be miles away, impossible to see from here. the vintage car visible through the windows of the converted stable that's now a garage might have cost more than most people's homes, but isn't covered like something not to be used, just waiting.

it looks more cared for than the house. grand, but run-down—unloved. inside, it is dark, and someone is playing the piano.

a wrong note. silence. and then, again— )

@sokie

[usurpers]

[ gulls crow overhead, the roar of waves and the salty smell of ocean water bursts this memory to life when sokie steps in. the scene starts out rather fun and exhilarating— such were first time experiences, and this one just so happened to be the very first time the survey corpse have seen the ocean, or anything so vast beyond the walls that enclosed them from the world. horses are tied to trees nearby, and young soldiers remove their boots, gear, and roll up their pants to invite themselves into the sea's rolling waves from the sandy shore.

it's like watching an animal step foot on snow for the first time: caution, curiosity, bewilderment, then joy. some of the younger ones begin splashing each other, a girl shrieking out when her eyes are hit. another young man with an undercut cups the water, drinks— then promptly gahs with remorse and says: it's salty! another woman, one of the older ones, points out something she sees under the shallow waters, with a man telling her to leave it, in fear of being poisonous. she goes after it anyway, and drags out a species of— sea sponge? a rock? she's excited about them.

the more sokie ventures, the more she might see someone she's familiar with— two, eventually. one is mikasa with a blond boy, squealing when a tide rolls into her feet. but she smiles at the boy with a shell in his hand, and the boy grins back. eren! he calls out eventually. eren, look at this!

a figure with his back to them, ankles collecting seafoam and dark hair licking his neck doesn't respond. the older eren aefenglom is used to seeing doesn't walk into the sea as he once did. he stays by the sand, and finds himself gazing out into the endless horizon-line with a similar, grim silence. ]

[foundfamilies]

[ leslie is initially startled by the appearance of a dragon wandering around this dream (once again, she finds herself starting the dream off in a nightgown, though she has left the stuffed rabbit behind this time in favour of her weird shadow familiar swirling around in her normal shadow), but the moment she heard mr. krüger's voice, she ceased to be worried in the least. she adjusts super well to monsters.

she wonders if a lot happened during the full moon for mr. krüger. she has yet to actually see someone transform fully, spending most full moons indoors. she's read about it, but she thought they were exaggerating about everyday regular final forms.

and then that dragon with his voice suddenly squeezed through a mirror. with how little she knows of the real eren, it looked like any other mirror to her, so she decided to take a chance on it being like the mirror that brought her here and followed in after. now she's here, and it doesn't look like it's a place she recognizes. something about that boy seems familiar, though.....

she looks up at the question. ]

I'll do my best!

[ she doesn't know. she doesn't run much. ]

[kuroi_taiyo]

[ Instead of something metal, like a mirror made or completely covered with bones, Judar's mirror was one that was structured with a kind of unmelting ice. Not crystal, because it was cold to the touch, but not subject to hands going against it. There isn't really that much that's easy to connect with Judar, even with the subtle molds of fruit on the lower half of the frame. The red jewels were something that Judar didn't really wear around the cities, and he never really explained that his world's energy took the shape of vaguely butterfly shapes, like the black and white ones along the outside of the mirror's frame.

Despite it being a dream, Judar was taking a break. Rested up along the side in half of a doze, not really guarding, so much as monitoring who went in. He wasn't about to warn or scare anyone off. Barely stirring with the next person, the faun pointedly let his head rest back down. ]

Go ahead, if you're so curious.

[ Inside is going to be a headache for you, Eren. Somehow it's even more magical than Aefenglom. Aside from the foreground, which is more of a cleared battlefield, with flames and the ghosts of fighting soldiers drawing the border, but one stage to an Escher-esque architecture to it. In the battlefield, however, there's a clear 4V1 situation going on, with Judar with two transformed people and another blue-haired teen. The other... Looked a bit like a teenage Dragon, both ready to fight and presenting a question that demands an answer. ]