u n l o c k e d; @koordiniert - Tumblr Blog

After being ushered back to the helicopter, wide and unassuming, dimples digging deep into his cheeks, the baby face, the family business face. He’s not confused or intrigued, with a dozen double-barreled questions muted on his tongue. And why not relax while he’s in protective care, and so he does. He begins by removing the jacket of his suit, and he feels the tension rolling through him, and he guesses that he won’t be alone for a while after doing a little bit of exploration. Outside there are cameras and people gathering to see what has happened. Armin rolls his eyes. He can already tell what the news articles will be writing tomorrow.

Convinced he’ll be trapped forever, he pulls his phone and thumbs over the screen. A couple messages from government officials questioning his location. And of course one from Levi updating him on his newest mongrel. Pausing, he decided to read up on this one. He doesn’t complain, but that’s because he can’t complain even if he wanted to. The sound of the engine cranks to a roar as the doors slam shut. Time passes in seconds strung out into minutes that don’t tick away with orderly precision. “Good luck, Eren,” he hollers as he straps himself and placing the helmet over his head. He’s all too familiar with the safety precautions of being inside a helicopter.

koordiniert

It annoys him to hear his name called with such carelessness, with such informality. No respect whatsoever. Eren hauls himself into the seat behind Armin, fuming silently as they lift into the air and all the way until their headquarters come into view, view from above turning it into a miniature version of itself. The man in front of him seems so at ease, reclined comfortably in his chair, padding away at his text messages like he’s truly lost all concern for his wellbeing.

It bothers him to no end -- the blatant disregard for his own life. A world at his feet, and he chooses to tread off the path of safety and assurance. Eren bites his lip as they land, teeth worrying the thin skin there.

“We’re cleared for landing, Special Agent Yeager.”

“Don’t try anything stupid,” he growls, sliding out first. He looks to Armin, hair disheveled from the incessant whipping of the wind around him, eyes wild. “I know you think I’m just another idiot who you can outsmart, and maybe I am.” His mouth breaks in a grin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna give you hell when trying to do it.”

#tacticiarmin #fuck u

hakuryx

He takes a step forward, the same pull and tug that keeps him tethered. With something like gravel in his throat, he manages to say, “it’ll be only a matter of time before they let you go too.” Armin eyes are deep with wildness that nets him in a visual hold. “You think you can protect me? I’ll end up dead like the rest of my family with the government under fire for suspicion of murder.” He seems to move in closer and grow exponentially with each clipped word. More seriously, he recants. “What a mess..”

It sounds as he intended: light with an edge of whetstone to sharpen knives. If Armin were to die, the government would be under suspicion, foulplay, and that would be one costly conspiracy to cover up. Somehow. Armin knows better than to ask for details. They needed him alive because he was good, too good. He’s the last strategic hero; everyone else is either suspected perpetrators or not cut out for the job. He offers him an eerie smile and says, “show me the way.”

koordiniert

He jerks his head back in the opposite direction, turning on his heel as he leads Armin off and away from the bus. His mind whirs with his earlier briefing on their person of interest -- Armin Arlert, priceless subject with a myriad of forbidden knowledge, sought by organizations of all kinds. Eren gives him a sidelong glance, brows knit together in unspoken speculation. You should be glad I’m one of the good guys, he muses, considering you weren’t all that hard to find.

Yes, he thinks, slinging open the heavy helicopter door and gesturing for Armin to climb in, there is little tolerance for failure in this line of work. He can hear his superior’s deadpan in his mind, loud and clear.

“The last guy we assigned to this was an idiot,” Levi had half spit, face scrunched in disgust and intolerance. “He’s the reason this brat is out doing whatever the hell he likes.” Eren had simply nodded his head once in understanding, adjusting the band of his watch. “Your job is to find him and contain him, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t have the time to do any more exit paperwork.”

All things considered, he’s grateful for something to do; talent and training going to wasting away as he helped governors and celebrities do their grocery shopping. Moreso yet, he mulls, as he finds Armin quite interesting. High cheekbones and enough intel to destroy the world, if not turn it upside down. His lips lift at the corners, adrenaline coursing through his veins. It’s the perfect job, and he intends to make no mistakes.

#tacticiarmin

hakuryx

— AU: Armin Arlert evades the secret service, belonging to a family of adventurers and spies. However, the murder of his grandfather means someone is out there trying to discover secrets. Armin is well aware of this, but that doesn’t stop him from escaping their grasp from time to time to explore. —

Just like what he remembers: the traffic jam started with yellow taxi cabs, semi-trucks, and people. Everything is a blur. Someone asking to sit next to him and he doesn’t respond, because it feels scooped out, hollow, and heart-breaking. An ambulance in Los Angeles during rush hour blaring. He’s sure he’s heard that before, and it has to be the truth because people don’t lie about important stuff like death, glass littering the belway, and his inability to be there. Of course, this wasn’t easy and he smoothes his hair back with his cool, pale hand. He can’t be sure where he’s going or where he could go without being caught. It feels like a dream only it’s on replay and it’s always gray.

He doesn’t want to be protected, all it does is drown him in loneliness that floods over him, sinking inside the crests of gray waves. Armin stares out the window into the monochrome horizon. And the bus comes to a complete halt and he can hear it’s passengers whisper their concerns. Hysterical laughter bubbles up from his through as in a twisted, painful face. He’s impressed. There are several police cars, and at least one helicopter. It’s a scene straight out of a bad end-of-the-world movie. “Excuse me,” he says, a smile hovering at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re Armin Arlert,” the passenger says aloud to the bus.

koordiniert

He feels it first at his brow, in the telltale twitch of his temple.

It does little to keep him from grinding his teeth, gripping hard at the helicopter’s metal framework as he swings his legs out, touching down before the vehicle itself does and making his way toward the halted bus. Sheesh, he grouses inwardly as the door folds sideways to allow him entry, all this for someone who doesn’t value their life anyway. He stalks his way up the stairs, rounding into the aisle and into the immediate view of several confused, if not panicked, civilians. If he wants to run away, I don’t see why we don’t just let him.

He fixes his focus upon the subject in question, a boy little older than he, with pale eyes and a delicate face. A mannequin, he resents, although Eren knows full well the value of that deceptive visage; of the sharp and calculating nature of his target, of the invaluable mind that rest inside the cavern of his porcelain skull. He keeps his look cold and void of emotion, advancing upon Armin with careful deliberation.

Eren presses the pad of his finger to his hidden earpiece; listens for the crackle of confirmation before he speaks. “Person of interest has been recovered, sir,” he murmurs. “We’ll be heading back shortly.”

#bodyguard au #tacticiarmin

@tacticiarmin

It’s easy for a boy like him, who tosses his thoughts haphazardly around the cavern of his skull. Each hair alight on the back of his sun-kissed neck, small towers radioing out to their space-bound satellites, fingers trembling with the excitement coursing through his body as they rummage through his dresser drawers for weather-appropriate clothing. For a boy like him, dreams do come true, falling into his humble path -- his mouth lifts at the corners at having found a rumpled thermal shirt, thrilled at the long sleeves, at the prospect of snow.

It had been a week before, casual conversation turned sheepish invitation as he and Armin closed up shop, boot heels clicking away at the sidewalk in their customary fashion. He often saw Armin home through the late nights, and it was on the way, really -- the shift in temperature causing Armin to pull his coat closer around his lithe frame, and Eren had grinned. “I love this kind of weather,” he chattered excitedly, chill yet to permeate his ever-heated exterior. “I used to wake up and see how all the mountaintops had snow on them.” A breathy laugh to punctuate his sentiments, puffing out like smoke into the frigid air. Armin’s eyes had been curious -- not that Eren had planned on stopping his simple train of thought by then, “I wanted to go up there. I wanted to see it.”

Destiny favors the humble it seems, and Eren shoves a lump of denim into his favorite backpack. Armin’s grandfather had had a cabin up there, and if Eren was willing to make the drive, he’d ask if they could have it for the weekend; promise of an old family sled included. It didn’t take much consideration -- always easy for a boy like Eren.

He scoops his mother’s keys off the counter, shouts a quick goodbye, and races off.

#tacticiarmin #winter au #i saw that post about the other erens u lil slut

HOW TO ROLEPLAY

Step 1: Find a partner

Step 2: Sin

#omfg

hakuryx

‹ koordiniert: ›

A gentle voice pulls him from the thick murk of his thoughts; liberates him from the crushing weight of his teenage boredom. He lifts his cheek from its throne upon his knuckles, blood rushing to the surface of his skin like the afternoon tide, leaving telltale pink streaks. “Huh?” He manages in all his sloppy ineloquence, so like a boy. Eren finds himself fixated on that small rabbit mouth, puckered sourly with the taste of tart anxiety. Something about it softens him immediately; almost soggy at the edges.

“Sure,” he whispers, heat burning low within him. His fingers do not tremble as he rifles through his book bag, and not as he reaches across the aisle to offer his spare pencil to his classmate. “Here.” For reasons unknown, Eren cannot meet his eyes – so like the sea in both temperament and color, though he can see the power that lies beneath. This boy is calculating, and Eren finds it quite intimidating; a subject ready for dissection, all scalpels and steel tables, to be picked apart and sandwiched between glass slides.

It dawns upon him that he has paid little attention to the matter at hand. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, furtive glances to his left side where Armin takes tactful notes. Eren lets out a small hiss through his teeth, signaling to him though his heart boils in the center of his chest. “Hey, what are we supposed to be doing?” Embarrassment overwhelms him in the proximity of his highly capable peer; mortification sets his joints stiff as he considers that he may truly be as inferior as he feels. “Sorry.” His laugh is dry. “I guess I wasn’t listening.”

hakuryx

Fingers touch momentarily as he takes the pencil from Eren’s grasp, no blasted bravery or hopeless endeavor - he remains stalwart as he had been. The immensity of the situation was parched in wilderness, a bone-dry basin of nothing but vodka-clear atmosphere. Drunk and soothed, touching Eren’s fingers was as hard as swallowing down harsh medicine, a potion for the spirit. The heap of sea swelled silently inside those blue eyes. His eyes are drawn back to his piece of paper, he meant to say; thank you.

The waves in the distance are like white creases on a vast bale of velvet and the lolling of it is both rhythmic and mesmerizing. No, no, no, it’s Eren’s voice that echoes through the alien emptiness of his mind. Plump and heavy, he would let his voice put his soul to sleep today, however. “Sorry, I don’t know what is going on either,” he smiles with faith. And he turns to Eren, revealing a galaxy of otherworldly hope. “We can pretend we know.”

He realized he’s famished as he looks straight into his eyes. It is much more immediate this time, much more familiar too. The fool-strewn sea floor is not to be underestimated, sensuous it may seem above the surface. It doesn’t matter sometimes whether you are brave or craven, vigilant or lax. Looking at Eren surprised him and it made him feel like he was potential prey in a reversal of nature’s laws. A nervous tic under his left eye as he stared, liquefied from the inside out.

koordiniert

The slyness in which he replies is subtle to the point where Eren nearly misses it; the cunning within his tone, the sharp clarity in his eyes is enough to make him bleed. Once again, he experiences that alien feeling not unlike a cold sweat, intolerable to the point where it nearly numbs him -- sensory overload, shutting down his synapses, turning him off at the brain stem. “Yeah,” he manages, unsure if what he desires is to turn away or -- uncharacteristically -- draw closer.

He watches as the surf tumbles from Armin’s eyes, ever-eager, dripping down his sclera. Sea foam dusts his cheeks. Eren quietly chooses the latter, offering an austere smile, albeit lain with good intentions. He feels stiff and a bit achy, and he hastily scribbles between the pale lines of his college-ruled notebook.

The bell rings, rattling his heart in his chest; quick beats reverberating throughout the cavern of his ribs. “Hey,” he says hastily, against both animal instinct, and something telling him, better judgment. “If you’re not doing anything later, there’s a party.” He scratches lightly at his jaw with his dull nails. “If you wanted to come.”

Keep reading

High School; &koordiniert

hakuryx

A bellowing sound rent the air and a down the sluiced flank of a wave surged down his neck. It’s nirvana quiet down this extremely long hallway and all he needed to do was reach the classroom - why was he so anxious? This hallway feels mysterious surrounded by paintings of mountains and posters of goals nobody really cares about and words of encouragement. Is this how heaven is supposed to feel? Drenched in brilliant light weeding through the spikes of judgement, the air here was chilling and numbing. All he wanted to do was run home and crawl into his bed.

He found himself visualizing himself inside his bedroom, it’s glorious vastness, it’s dreamy surface and straining to hear the metronomic wave music. That’s all he ever did: lay in bed and listen to the sound of the sea through his headphones. The flowing of a tide was languorous, the ebbing tide was harmonious. And here he was entering his science room late. Nobody noticed him enter, nobody ever does, he blends in so perfectly. It was a teeth-gritting experience. Only one seat is open, decaying air and stifling atmosphere provided the perfect abode for those who worshiped the darkness rather than the light. He sat next to someone, clutching his books to his chest seeking comfort.

Grains of poison seeped through the classrooms corners and it gleamed like witch dust. The musty air was difficult to breathe. Today was especially hard, biting his tongue with nervousness and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. The pungent tang oozed from every sentient being in this horrible classroom. Yes, he was smart, but he also wanted to be home. His flesh crept and the hair on the back of his neck rose like the hackles of a dog. Fear, a feeling he was unused to, felt like the melting tallow under the surface of his skin, feverish and hot. Teacher has instructed them to write something down. “Can I borrow a pencil,” he whispers to the boy next to him because he doesn’t have one.

He looked to whom he sat by, caught the fires blaze. Eren Yeager, the king’s monster hunter, he stared at him spellbound and revolted instantly, looking back down at his paper. Dancing a ghastly ritual around a huge fire, burning his lungs like the fumes from brimstone, adding to the mood of stuffy claustrophobia. A crush and nothing more. He could smile, but his braces still taste like blood.

koordiniert

“Sure,” he whispers, heat burning low within him. His fingers do not tremble as he rifles through his book bag, and not as he reaches across the aisle to offer his spare pencil to his classmate. “Here.” For reasons unknown, Eren cannot meet his eyes -- so like the sea in both temperament and color, though he can see the power that lies beneath. This boy is calculating, and Eren finds it quite intimidating; a subject ready for dissection, all scalpels and steel tables, to be picked apart and sandwiched between glass slides.

#tacticiarmin #ok meet me after class

character flaws & strengths | 001. ↳ bold what applies to your muse!

╳ flaws:

♔ strengths:

pounced on tacticiarmin

ervvinsmith-deactivated20170308

hakuryx

His knuckles had gone bone-white while holding a blade between his fingers. A wall of emotion came crashing down. Laughter comes out in short bursts leaving the air chilling and numbing. He could smell something being cooked. He could taste something great! Something so fantastic – right there on the tip of his tongue. It’s all imagination now. Armin loomed in the distance, feeling detached from the boy with chasm Eren knew before. Yes, he was heaven sent – drenched in brilliant light. Intelligence had become the perfect foundation to build the perfect profile.

The room was a paradise of death. Wasn’t it almost a week from today that he had to haul his grandfather from the living room to connect him back onto his air supply – after hearing him dry heave.. Nearly too late, and that was all to watch him dangling at the jaws of death. He could hear them now the crunching of bones and growling demons inside his head.

He could of skipped over to Eren. His boyfriend, his lover, his victim. He loved him so much – he deserved to perish. The greatest threat from the person you love the most is not that which lies without but that which lies within. “Thank you for coming over, Eren.” Curiously, he walked with great precision.

koordiniert

Eren watches him with hopelessly enamored, undivided attention; lithe body eclipsing the light siphoned in by the thin slits in the battered blinds obscuring the window. “Yeah,” he replies softly, voice laced with sugar. “Of course I came. I wanted to see you.” He fails to notice anything amiss, lids heavy and vision blurred pleasantly around the edges. The tips of his fingers twitch, wanting; the bare strip of skin just above the waistband of his jeans feels charged in the setting, electrons seeping through his pores and setting him alight. Isn’t this what he’d been craving for so long?

Drinking in the sight of his pale, cherubic boy, does he know the answer could be no less than yes.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Each of his words sighed out, let adrift to sea, attempting to combat the silence that floods back in between his honeyed syllables. “But.. how come you’re all the way over there?” Eren allows a nervous, twitterpated laugh. Cheeks flushed and heart thrumming uncomfortably in the hollow of his throat, he continues on. “Come here.”

#tacticiarmin

tacticiarmin

Shy springtime tickles under his ribcage, heart thudding mercilessly inside his chest. He feels such syrupy sweet yearning, molasses dripping for days, as he lays spread over soft sheets. Here, secluded alone with Armin in his deserted home, blinds drawn tightly, no light but the gleam in his sky-blue eyes -- Eren watches as the boy slinks toward him, muted lines and gentle edges, and shivers. How long he’s ached to be alone with the object of his affections; how strange, he considers, for his feelings to culminate so ardently.

They’d been classmates for the longest time; he’d caught Eren’s eye for even longer. He’d been clumsy and naive to a fault during his adolescence -- somewhere in the back of his mind does he regret the time he’d wasted before asking Armin out, and how many times he’d nearly lost him to an unwitting competitor. Now here, in the sanctity of this bed, does he gaze upon that angel face and hear that quiet giggle. Here, where his fondness is returned.

He reaches for the other with a quivering, disbelieving hand. “Armin,” he rasps, mind sharp with clarity, his apprehension bleeding out into the darkness.

#so doki #he think he about to get some tbh

hakuryx

Eren.. Ah- having someone you think of as important, can be a strength, and also a weakness. I have many times.. witnessed people losing their senses, or the ability to make sound judgement.. for you, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.

koordiniert