#I didn't even get into the monster attack concept I'm just so weary

[givehimthemedicine]

that massacre blood won't let me rest

(bloodstain pattern analysis)

warning, this will contain some graphic explanations of how blood stains get made and a couple pictures of real blood (no people) as I attempt to apply my modicum of education on this subject to the HNL massacre

I'm mostly focusing on that main blood stain that goes across One's chest, but toward the end I'll touch on other stains in the RR.

tldr: I think that chest stain leaves plenty of room for doubt about whether One was the attacker.

so. bloodstain analysis crash course.

your main types of blood stains:

active - blood flying and landing on a surface as a result of force/motion. this includes spatters, splashes, arterial sprays.

passive - blood falling from plain old gravity. stains like drops and pools.

transfer - a surface coming into contact with another surface with blood on it. smears, maybe a hand or shoe print.

two lovely volunteers to demonstrate:

One's neck bleeding on his collar is an example of a passive blood stain. if any of those larger vertical blood drops on his shirt are supposed to be nose blood, (his nose barely bled but his shirt looks like it dripped) that's also passive. victims' eye blood is passive.

One mopping the floor with El leaving her with blood smeared on her gown is transfer.

that main pattern of blood droplets across One's chest is an active type stain. all the blood on him, apart from his own, appears to have flown through the air and landed on him.

the costume dept clearly put effort into depicting those types differently, going as far as to actually drag someone around the floor to find out what El's gown blood should look like as a result of the actions that put it there. I think it's fair to expect a similar level of research went into designing One's stains.

but discussing those methods in the interview might have revealed too much.

some types of active blood stains

arterial spray is when a vein or artery is cut and blood squirts out, flies through the air and lands on nearby surfaces. it's not usually just a little blood. here are two real examples of arterial spray:

to me, it seems like a severed artery would produce a more blood than is on One.

impact spatter is created when an object forcefully hits exposed blood and little droplets fly. forward spatter is made in the direction of the force, backward spatter is thrown back toward the direction the force came from.

in many cases forward and back spatter look much the same, so the main distinguishing clue is location.

back spatter is, without us even thinking about it, the type of stain we assume is on One's chest, because we also assume that he is the attacker. that he did something violent to someone and their blood splashed back on him. that is one valid explanation, but not the only.

see, spatter flies in all directions from an impact, 360. it looks like this (simulation). not all spatter is automatically back spatter. if it's forward spatter, it suggests One was facing the impact from opposite where the force came from. it's hard to imagine a scenario where the attacker gets forward spatter on himself.

castoff is another type of spatter typical of repetitious stabbing or beating where a weapon that's covered in blood, when swung back for another blow, flings off an arc of small blood droplets.

examples:

the attacker virtually never gets castoff on themselves. rather they fling it on the walls/ceiling around them, depending on the arc of their swings.

telekinetic blows cannot possibly create castoff because there would be nothing for the blood to stick to.

so if the stains on One are castoff, A) there was a bloody physical weapon/object involved and B) he seems very unlikely the attacker.

to me, the main stain on One looks consistent with either impact or castoff spatter. let's consider some more characteristics:

blood velocity

droplet size can also tell the speed at which the blood was moving, which helps reconstruct what amount of force and therefore type of injury it came from. generally, the smaller the droplets the higher the velocity.

One's chest spatter looks medium velocity. no surprises here.

blood directionality

the shape of droplets helps determine the direction the blood came from.

a drop onto a 90 degree angle, like if you're just standing there and your blood drips on the ground, leaves a circular droplet. an elongated blood droplet shows that the blood was flying through the air at an angle.

blood tails are what you call the pointy end of an elongated blood drop, which points in the direction of the motion. the bottoms of these more acute examples are the tails, indicating the blood was moving toward the bottoms.

now look at One. he definitely has multiple spatters on him, but I'm focusing on the main spatter that goes diagonally across his chest.

note how blood tails go in a consistent direction (bottom screen left moving towards upper screen right). this creates a strong idea of the spatter having originated low around One's right hip and flown upwards across his body.

of course we can't get too into analyzing this as legit forensic evidence, because it isn't. but the fact that they kept consistent with the direction of the blood tails when recreating these stains by hand multiple times seems like that detail mattered to them.

(I don't wanna shoplift directly from em's jumpsuit blood post but that has the best collection of pics and you can see that all iterations are in agreement with the direction of motion suggested).

here's a quick video showing a guy creating a bloodstain that illustrates both castoff and blood tails:

how'd homeboy get blood on his back?

I wish I could get a clearer look, but those are absolutely active spatters and not transfer. do you wanna tell me how, if you are the attacker, you'd manage to get your victim's blood to spatter onto your own back? like, even if he can Vecna someone behind his back, why? was he showboating like shredding guitar behind his head?? was it like the champagne in that one kim kardashian photo??

whose blood is on him?

neither castoff nor impact spatter makes sense for the bodies we see.

as I've discussed in other posts, none of the ways we saw anyone get killed in the massacre, nor any of the dead bodies in the RR, should produce blood stains like the ones on One.

the only external bleeding that getting Vecna'd™ produces is passive drips from the eyes. nobody got stabbed or struck repeatedly. even the eyes getting sucked out (or whatever?) doesn't result in any spatter. you can watch One kill Two, and there's no new blood on his face or on the floor between them. you can watch him throw guards into walls without a speck of blood on the walls or on himself.

for the amount of blood around the scene, there should be at least one much, much bloodier wounded person around here somewhere.

what is telekinetic force shaped like?

I'm unclear on what kind of spatter to expect when the weapon is telekinesis because I have so many unknowns about the nature of the impact. it really seems up to the person what shape and force of power they want to use in each instance (think the brute force of flipping a van vs the fine motor skills of turning a tv knob).

what I want is to picture the telekinesis used in the massacre as an invisible physical object so I can draw conclusions about the impact spatter it might create, but I can't.

ST has given us a couple great visuals of what impression telekinetic force actually creates when impacting various substances, revealing its "shape," and it varies a lot. my ruling is that telekinetic force has no default shape, so this is kind of a dead end.

but regardless, here's the curious thing about spatter:

(and that IS spatter on One, whether it's impact or castoff): spatter is the result of force upon exposed blood.

and a bunch of blood is not exposed yet until after a victim has been struck/stabbed/whatever at least once. meaning the victim that One's bloodstain belongs to was likely struck in the same spot repeatedly. twice minimum.

"well, blood is already exposed from the eye thing, couldn't it just be that?" yes, but striking victims after the eye thing isn't the MO. watch Virginia, Two, Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick die - after the eyes, they simply drop in place. he doesn't throw or hit them in any way.

if that is castoff, what was the blood cast off OF?

if there was a physical weapon, it's either missing from the scene or not shown.

I'd love to finish this section by suggesting an object in the lab that would make a thematically fitting murder weapon, but nothing jumps out at me.

it would be unlike them not to have brought our attention to the murder weapon before it's revealed as such. like, we need to be able to go "ohhh, they killed everybody with the 8 ball!" or whatever later or else it's not as fun.

the blood being castoff from a weapon would tend to suggest that the attacker wasn't telekinetic (or wasn't currently able to use their telekinesis). I mean, would you bother doing the manual labor if you didn't have to?

I don't see any very bloody objects lying around the RR, but I do see extremely clear evidence that there were very bloody hands.

hands are absolutely a thing that can cast off blood.

and there's only one person I know of who was ever shown with bloody hands in conjunction with the massacre.

let's talk about hands, then

we've got a diagonal thing going on here:

this bottom-left-upper-right orientation that would tend to result from a right-handed person casting off blood from an upward swing of either a weapon or their bloody hand. a lefty's swing would most likely create a bottom right-upper left diagonal castoff.

so which lab folk are what-handed?

lefties:

righties:

(I found only 2 lefts from El: manipulating the helicopter and stopping Vecna from killing Max. I could do a whole post on that. stop me)

ok, but what if that's backsplash, not castoff? same logic.

One is left handed, and when he throws someone with telekinesis, say like if he slams them downward, he uses his left hand. the way the arm swings naturally seems more likely to create an impact on that same side of the body. but the spatter originates from his right hip.

(NOT saying otherwise is impossible, it's totally possible, just seems less likely. go ahead and pretend you have telekinesis for a sec and see what direction of arm sweeps feel most natural.)

this is why when I look at the stain on One, I'm not totally convinced it's back spatter.

so what are some possible scenarios that might be consistent with blood like that?

where One is the attacker:

One strikes Victim with either a physical weapon or telekinesis. either from the strike or from falling and hitting some surface, their blood back spatters onto his shirt.

where One is not the attacker:

Attacker is striking Victim with a physical object or telekinesis. One stands opposite Attacker. forward or sideways impact spatter flies onto One's shirt.

Attacker is beating Victim with a physical object. One stands opposite Attacker. blood is cast up onto his shirt on one of Attacker's upswings.

One stands near Attacker or Victim who swings a bloody hand upward and casts blood across his shirt. (I'm liking this best)

now that I've been serious for a whole post, let me go insane about the scene overall (I'M JUST BRAINSTORMING DON'T SNIPE ME):

what if, by timeline shenanigans or I don't know what, some versions of Henry, Edward, and El are all present in the RR during the massacre.

Edward is doing some or all of the killing in such a way that impact spatters are being sent onto Henry. the bloody face of one of Edward's victims hits the floor while Henry's back is turned, causing that small spatter on the back of his pant leg.

El's hands are covered with blood. she makes a sweeping motion like this, up and to her right, to throw Edward, and blood casts off her hand onto Henry's shirt.

if an action like the above gif happened, we'd expect to see damage and/or blood on the walls or ceiling of the RR. there are multiple drippy blood impacts on the RR walls. we assume them to have come from the kids (even though this is not consistent with their injuries). what if some or all of that is Edward's blood?

whoever hit the walls would have needed to already be bloody when they hit the wall. (we know from the hallway guards and Two that neither getting thrown against a wall nor Vecna'd up against a wall leaves blood.)

another explanation for already-bloody-Ed and Henry shirt castoff/forward spatter from a physical weapon is if Brenner comes in and tries to stop Edward by beating him with [?object]. but I feel like Ed would overpower Brenner too quickly to get very bloody. this isn't a strong one, I feel better about the bloody hands idea

re: the blood pools on the floor all being smeared even before El gets dragged... you know how El has some way-too-different-to-be-accidental variations in the blood transfer patterns on her gown? could we have multiple Els in play? like, by the time we see our El arrive in the RR, other-bloody-handed-El has already been mucking around the scene?

varying El blood and multiple El concept plays well with the way there are also at least two different crime scenes.

"Nat you idiot, that shot is filmed in the mirror, you're just confusing two different sides of the room. why are your green and purple circles on the same bookcase when they're clearly on two different bookcases on opposite sides of the room?":

YEAH I SURE AM CONFUSED! BC WHY WERE THOSE TWO BOOKCASE STAINS BOTH SHOWN ON THE RED-TOP-RAINBOW-BEND-ON-THE-WALL SIDE OF THE ROOM? the side with that pyramid thing and the plinko board has a red-top rainbow bend. the opposite side, with the benches and the drawing tables, has a purple-top rainbow bend (see below). like, whatever mirror tricks you wanna pull, shouldn't the side of the room with the bookcase corner stain be purple-top-bend? seriously, am I picturing this wrong??

anyway, many of those RR bloodstains could be explained by at least one unaccounted for person being thrown repeatedly around the room. telekinetic people really seem to like doing this to each other.

say El makes that hand motion, which makes One's shirt castoff and throws Edward. Ed hits that bookcase hard enough to get bloodied. Edward gets thrown around some more, leaving various stains around the walls and floors. El or Ed stomps in the blood puddle by the bookcase, resulting in the purple-circled splatter and the spatter on Henry's pant leg.

but if we're allowed to have multiple Els maybe some of the blood is other-El's too. or One's. or Brenner's

I DON'T KNOW. I'M DONE. END MY SUFFERING

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part III

Part I

Part II

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

After that night, it became increasingly hard for (Y/N) to leave, and for Eren to let her do so.

Something between them had changed. There were moments— when Eren would press feather-light kisses against her forehead, when he would casually leave a cup of her favorite tea where she would find it— where (Y/N) felt as though her heart might burst. It was all the little things that baffled her, all the ways in which he seemed to understand exactly how she felt; it was as though he knew her more than she knew herself. On the mornings that she would wake in his bed, sleepy and sticky and wholly content, (Y/N) wondered what it would be like to have this life forever.

Other days— on days like today— she was reminded exactly why that could never be, and it broke her heart.

Today, they had planned a romantic dinner in the park, an evening under the stars. It was supposed to be something special, a little getaway just for the two of them; they had wanted to leave as soon as (Y/N) was relieved from her patrol, so Eren had moved her things to his place, hoping that they could leave together from there for their evening alone.

In and of itself, that was fine… but when (Y/N) came in, covered head-to-toe in viscous Creature blood, Eren was furious.

“And you call me a monster,” he growled, looking her up and down with hate in his eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

He stood from his seat on the sofa, and (Y/N) began to back away, still wary from the fight she had narrowly escaped from unscathed. Her every instinct told her that she should run, fire a round of silver bullets into his chest, but she steeled herself, doing neither.

“It’s not my fault— they were attacking a civilian,” she told him as he stalked towards her, his face twisted into a horrific scowl. “I tried to stop them— tried to find out what was going on— but then they came at me with their claws, and I was left with no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” he snarled, and it was then that anger filled (Y/N) from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. "They were probably terrified of you— how could you possibly blame them for lashing out?"

(Y/N) grit her teeth.

“This, from the man who thought genocide was his only option to the same problem?”

Eren made a low, warning sound in the back of his throat, but (Y/N) pressed on.

“You would rather me have died?” she demanded, stepping into his space. “Would it have pleased you more for my body to bleed out on the pavement, ripped to shreds by an aggressive werewolf? Would you even care, or would you just find the next blood bag and move on with your life?”

“Maybe so,” he shot back, “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your insufferable mouth.”

That stung— but if there was one thing (Y/N) knew how to do, it was to strike back twice as hard as she had been struck.

“Fine then,” she said, turning on her heel. “I won’t bother you any longer. I’ll go out and find someone who actually wants my company, someone who’ll fuck me good and proper over the counter at some hole-in-the-wall bar over on Easy Street, someone younger, with a nicer cock and less fucking baggage— ”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence, or even walk a single step further— Eren grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to him, his fist painfully tight against her scalp.

“Wanna say that again, to my face?” he asked, tilting her head back.

“I’ll go find someone else to fuck me,” she spat, struggling in vain against him. “I’ll spread my legs for the next available schmuck in the closest bar I can find, so you can hear me scream his name and not yours.”

It was a low blow, to threaten a vampire’s claim on something they had previously assumed had belonged to them, but (Y/N) didn’t care. She had almost died today, and she’d be damned if she was going to take shit from anyone about what she had to do to survive. If Eren wanted a fight, she would damn sure give him one.

“Like hell you will,” he told her, pulling her head back so that she had to strain to remain standing. “You’re mine. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood— you are my Companion.”

"I belong to no one!"

Those words ripped from her throat and echoed throughout the empty house, and it was then that Eren stopped, looking at her with calculation in his gaze.

"You're right," he said, releasing her hair. "No mortal can serve two masters, lest they love one and despise the other; an archaic religious concept, but an accurate one nonetheless. You've made it abundantly clear where your loyalty lies. I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) began to tremble. "Eren, what are you saying?"

"I release you from our pact," he replied coldly, his eyes so dull and lifeless that it sent a chill down her spine. "No longer are you bound to be my wine-press— I free you from me."

"Eren—"

"Go," he commanded, and (Y/N) felt terribly, horribly empty.

Once, he would have told her to come freely, go safely, and leave something of the happiness she brought him; now, he gave her a cold dismissal, and it frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Still, she went, feeling hollow and used, and she didn't bother to shut the door behind her as she turned to walk home, weary from the day and sick from fighting.

***

Armin had lived for a very long time, but even so, he had yet to meet anyone so foul of temper as Eren when the Hunger was on him.

"Eren, you have to feed."

The vampire, as ill in health as in temper, glared weakly at him. "I'm not hungry."

"But you are Hungry, and don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. Look, if this is about that girl—"

"I told you not to speak of her!"

Ah, so it was about her. By the looks of him, it had been two weeks since Eren had fed; Armin would bet that he hadn't seen her in the same amount of time.

"If I need to, I'll drag her here to make up with you myself," said Armin testily, "I refuse to watch my best friend starve himself because he refuses to feed on anyone else."

"You will not touch her."

Armin rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything further. He just patted Eren's arm in farewell and set about finding the little lady who was the root cause of his current consternation.

It took longer than Armin had anticipated to find the young woman who had, for all intents and purposes, completely unraveled Eren's composure; her scent, while thick and memorable in Eren's apartment, was hard to track otherwise. Armin spent two hours just wandering the city while trying to catch a breath of it here or there, and when he finally did manage to catch a whiff of her scent and follow it to her, he understood exactly why it had been so hard to track her down.

The girl was a Hunter, of all things.

When Armin found her, she was knee-deep in sewage, her knife embedded to the hilt in the skull of what appeared to be some species of winged reptile. Armin, having been a tad desperate and not actually having been expecting to find anything when he lifted the lid to the man-hole on 32nd and Main, was surprised to say the least— and when (Y/N) ripped her knife free and readjusted her stance into a defensive one directed at him, his surprise turned to intrigue.

“Er, hello there,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t suppose you’ll take my word for it that I just want to chat, will you?”

Curiously, the words gave the woman pause. She relaxed her stance ever-so-slightly, and then her eyes lit up with recognition.

“Armin Arlert?” she queried, craning her neck up to see him. “Is that you?”

This one grows curiouser and curiouser, he thought, but responded affirmatively.

“Can you give me a bit, then?” she asked, kicking the corpse of the Creature she’d just killed. “I’m not exactly fit for company. Perhaps we could meet later for a discussion over tea?”

“I’m afraid it’s urgent,” he said as she knelt to decapitate her prey— likely for proof of victory. “I think you know why I’m here, so you understand that time is of the essence.”

She didn’t look up at him as she replied.

“If this is about Eren, then I don’t have time to talk.”

Her tone was hard, bitter, and matter-of-fact, and it reminded Armin so much of Jean that it hurt… but just like Jean, Armin would bet that she could be won over by appealing to her inherent sense of human decency

“He’s suffering (Y/N),” he said, awkwardly crouching above the manhole so that she could better see the truth written in his eyes. “He won’t feed.”

“That’s hardly my problem.”

And oh, how well Armin knew that state of mind. If there was one thing Eren Jaeger knew how to do, it was push away the people who loved him most. Armin had dealt with that particularly lovely quirk of his for centuries, and it never got easier to deal with no matter how much time passed. If anything, it got more difficult the older they both got.

“When you’re the solution to a problem, you become a part of it whether you like it or not,” Armin replied, patient and understanding. “He cares for you.”

(Y/N) looked up at him then, fury in her eyes.

“He hurt me.”

Armin shrugged. “He hurts everyone he cares about. It’s just who he is. Nothing comes for free— least of all the love and loyalty of someone as old and as powerful as Eren.”

“Your heart may be toughened to his meanness,” she told him, the head of the creature she’d slain in her hands, “But mine is not, and I don’t like him well enough to willfully remain for him to use as an emotional punching bag.”

At that, Armin couldn’t help but let loose a wry grin.

“No,” he said, “I should think not; but I do think you love him well enough to make sure he doesn’t starve himself to death because he can’t have you.”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment, then she crossed her arms.

“I won’t come crawling to him. He’s going to have to come to me.”

Armin grimaced. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

“Is that at all negotiable?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Well, there was nothing for it.

“And you will let him feed if he comes to you?”

(Y/N) thought, then nodded. “If he proves himself deserving.”

Armin couldn't help himself; he laughed. Eren might have met his match in this one.

"Very well. I'll work my magic, and you work yours."

She nodded and bade him farewell, but before Armin left, he paused.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

With that, he left her, ready to take Eren by the ear and throw him at her if he had to.

***

(Y/N)'s heart was racing as she opened the door, knowing good and well who would be behind it.

After her little talk with Armin— and the near heart attack he had given her in the process— she had called in to Zeke and told him she needed to go home to deal with an emergency. A replacement for her patrols had been sent, and she had come home to wash the grim from her skin, making herself as presentable as possible with the time she had. (Y/N) was worried, so worried, that the filth she had been wading in earlier would have left a lingering stench, or even that it had affected the taste of her; she had scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was raw, hoping to erase every last remnant of her day from her skin…but as it turned out, she needn't have bothered.

Two, three, four hours later, and Eren hadn't shown— it was only now, right at the six hour mark, that he had decided to come to her.

Needless to say, (Y/N) was… less than pleased, but when she opened the door to find Eren pale and drawn, with dark circles beneath his eyes, her heart softened ever-so-slightly. It seemed that Armin was right; he had been suffering.

"You look like shit," she told him quietly, opening her door widely to let him in.

"I assure you, I feel worse," Eren grumbled, but stepped in as she closed the door behind him.

For a long, awkward moment, they just looked at each other, silent and unsure. It was unsettling how unlike himself Eren seemed; he was almost soft when he looked at her, and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. Eventually, though, like two opposite ends of a magnet, they were drawn together, and Eren brushed a piece of hair back from her face.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and rough. (Y/N) caught his hand in hers before it could fall from her hair, and she pressed it against her chest, keeping it trapped there, touching the skin above her beating heart.

"Hey."

They watched each other a moment more before the dam broke between them, and they both spoke at once.

"I'm sorry."

A shared grin, a shy laugh— and then (Y/N) said what they both were thinking.

"You need to feed first, and talk later," she told him, her hand still clasped in his. "You're not off the hook, but I doubt we can have any real conversation with you like this."

Eren nodded gratefully, tugging at her wrist— his usual biting spot— but (Y/N) shook her head, indicating her neck. The thickest, richest blood, she knew, would come from there; and if there was ever a time to be generous with the placement of Eren's bite, she figured that it would be now.

The worst of it was over quickly. There was a brief sting at the intrusion of razor-sharp fangs, and then the vaguely uncomfortable feeling of having something poking down into places that decidedly should not be poked at all, but then (Y/N) quickly eased into the rhythm of the act, focusing wholly on the way Eren's lips felt against her skin. In a few moments, she would become pleasantly light-headed, and then Eren would pull away and look at her like she'd hung the stars. Oh, how she'd missed that look! (Y/N) found herself longing for it even before she quite realized it.

And then, without warning, a vision came, and (Y/N) was swept into another world entirely.

The evening sky rolled endlessly out towards the horizon; it seemed to go on forever, sparkling with more stars than (Y/N) had ever seen before. The full moon was so bright that it cast the whole world in what seemed like silver sunlight, and (Y/N) wondered how anyone could sleep on a night such as this. It was far too beautiful an experience to miss.

Alongside her— alongside Eren, through whose eyes she saw the world— strode Armin and two older-looking cadets who she recognized from previous memories as Reiner and Berthold. Eren was feeling anxious over something, and Reiner and Berthold were… well, they were kind. Reiner especially seemed to be like an older brother, and Eren admired him.

"You'll do just fine tomorrow," said Reiner, placing a large, warm hand on Eren's shoulder. "I'm certain of it."

The memory ended, and (Y/N) came back to herself as Eren's tongue laved over the wounds his fangs had left in her neck, sealing them.

"See anything?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin, and (Y/N) nodded.

"You loved them, too," she said softly, remembering the fondness Eren had felt as though it had been her own. "You loved the Hunters that tried to take everything from you, and— and I think they loved you, too."

Eren pulled away from her, and it was then that she saw the tears shining in his eyes.

"Yes," he replied, his voice broken. "We were children. How could we not love each other as God intended? Hate was never in our nature; it was an inheritance that we couldn't escape."

He paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he told her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I lost my temper. I forget— I forget that you're not them."

And (Y/N) understood. She understood that no matter how many centuries passed, there would be wounds that just wouldn't heal for Eren. He would lash out at things that wouldn't make sense to anyone who hadn't experienced the horrors of war as he had. Suddenly, she felt petty for having lashed out as she had, and guilt threatened to rise up and choke her.

"You're forgiven," she replied, leaning into his touch. "It takes two to tango— I shouldn't have baited you like I did. I knew how badly that would hurt you, and that's exactly why I said it."

At that, Eren cracked a grin.

"I expect nothing less from a Kirschtein. Your grandfather would have punched me square in the jaw— and as big as that bastard got when we were older, he probably would have put me on my ass."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh, and Eren joined her, their combined joy swelling until there was nothing else in the world but their happiness.

How they started kissing, neither one of them would be able to say afterwards, but in the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered. Their love was too large to contain, too much to hold back— and it was love, (Y/N) realized, though she hadn't quite put words to it yet. She loved Eren Jaeger, a Creature, a monster, as much as her grandfather before her had and more. She loved him with a desperation that felt like being knocked over by an ocean wave and plunged into depths where her feet no longer touched the sand. She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone before.

And, as he placed her gently on her bed that was barely big enough for two, divesting himself of his shirt above her, (Y/N) thought that maybe she didn't mind it so much as long as he loved her in return.

"I missed you," said Eren, dropping kisses by her ear as he unhooked her bra. "I missed this."

"Me too," she gasped as his mouth wandered to her nipple, her hands fisting in his hair. "Oh, God, I missed you too."

The time for words was soon gone, however; Eren's sinful, sinful mouth traveled lower and lower until he was kissing at the insides of her thighs, parting them to access what lay between, and (Y/N) threw her head back as he spread her open with his hands and sucked brazenly at her clit.

How long he spent there, worshipping her sex, (Y/N) had no idea; all she knew was that she came once from his mouth on her and a second time from his fingers inside her, and when he finally, mercifully withdrew, she was broken down to the simplest parts of herself; there was nothing left but an affection so deep that it threatened to overtake her if she didn't let it out, and she did the only thing she knew to do to release the overwhelming pressure that was building in her chest as Eren pushed his big, veiny cock into her.

She told him what she should have said a long time ago.

"Oh, Eren," she gasped as his cockhead shoved deep inside her. "I love you."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Eren went unnaturally still. He looked at her with pupils blown wide inside emerald eyes, and his fangs slightly distended; in any other situation, (Y/N) might have laughed at how surprised he seemed, but it seemed as though she were frozen in time, unable to do anything but stare earnestly up at them, hoping he understood how much she cared for him.

"You… what?"

"I love you," she repeated, her body moving without her permission to roll her hips up into him, moving his cock even further inside her. "Please, Eren, I need—"

He cut her off with a forceful, bruising kiss, and his hips started making slow, deep thrusts inside her, her legs hiked up over his shoulders.

"Again," he said against her lips."Say it again."

"I love you."

Another thrust or two, a hand circling her wounded throat.

"Again."

"I love you, Eren."

"Again."

This time, it was only a whisper.

"I love you," she said, and Eren began fucking her in earnest.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he told her as he thrust hard and deep inside her. "You're every man's dream, a nirvana the damned such as myself were never meant to reach. (Y/N), you are everything, and I—"

He seemed to choke on the words, and (Y/N) kissed him as he tried to regain his composure.

"I don't deserve you," he said, shaking with the force of their passion. "I don't deserve your love."

It's not about deserving, she wanted to say, It never was, but then she was coming again, her climax contracting her walls around her lover, and it was all she could do to remain conscious as Eren fucked her relentlessly through it all, chasing his own high.

It was only later, after a shower and something to eat that they finally spoke again. They were back in bed, and Eren's arm was wrapped around her, as though he were afraid to let her go for even a moment; truthfully, (Y/N) thought he was asleep, but then his breath tickled her ear as he said,

"I love you, angel."

And that, (Y/N) thought, had been worth it all, in the end.