#salutefear

[dehducer]

                                          @seekjoy​ said:   ‘I’ll only eat half.’

 𝐈𝐧  𝐚𝐧𝐲  𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞❟  𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐝  𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞  𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭  𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝  𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩.  Be  pleased  that  the  idle  chatter  and  drunken  conversations  weren’t  overpowering  and  all  consuming,  but  there  was  something  eerie  in  the  silence  now.  The  tension  was  almost  palpable,  believing  if  she  reached  upward  then  her  fingers  would  be  slowed  in  the  thickness.  People  still  spoke,  quiet  conversations  between  smaller  groups  breaking  out  and  the  occasional  sound  of  cutlery  scraping  against  a  plate  cutting  through  it.  Pieck  had  decided  to  join  them,  comrade  new  and  old,  instead  of  staying  in  her  titan.  Her  monster.  Her  safety.  The  steam  from  its  decaying  body  filtered through  from  the  tree  line,  festering  away  in  the  night.

 On  any  other  night,  she’d  have  stayed  hidden  away  in  her  flesh  home,  find  comfort  within  it’s  walls  and  rest  for  what  could  have  been  the  last  time  she  was  able  to.  Anxiety  beating  her  in  the  end,  she  figured  some  company  was  better  than  none  on  a  night  that  could  be  her  last.  Pieck  had  curled  in  on  herself,  knees  brought  to  her  chest  and  arms  hugging  as  her  eyes  bore  into  the  fire.  Chin  resting  atop  her  knees,  she  wasn’t  sure  how  long  she’d  been  staring  so  intensely  into  it’s  flames,  longing  for  nothing  but  a  reality  she’d  never  be  granted.  ‘I’ll  only  eat  half.’  The  words  felt  like  cold  water  poured  down  her  neck,  snapping  her  completely  from  her  state  of  discontent.  No  answer  former  in  her  throat,  eyes  fixed  on  the  plate  in  Jean’s  hands.  Pieck  almost  wanted  to  laugh.

 Twice  she’d  tried  to  kill  him,  once  he  tried  to  kill  her.  Here  he  was  now,  plate  with  enough  food  barely  sufficient  enough  for  himself  offered  to  her.  War  was  cruel,  a  weapon  ought’ve  known,  but  it  was  also  strange  how  quickly  grievances  could  be  forgotten  among  enemies.  His  body  was  warm  as  it  sat  next  to  her,  uninvited  but  not  unwelcome,  she  didn’t  move  from  her  spot  save  for  her  head  tilting  to  look  at  Jean  better.  “  You  don’t  have  to  be  nice  to  me.  ”  Her  words  were  serious,  but  not  malicious.  Soft  in  their  nature  as  her  eyes  softened,  too.  “  You  need  it  more  than  i  do.  Keep  it.  ”  Unfurling  like  the  delicate  flower  so  many  expected  her  to  be,  pieck’s  arms  instead  chose  to  cross  over  her  chest  as  her  legs  relaxed.  She  still  felt  like  a  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  in  the  jacket  that  matched  his,  but  she  had  no  other  choice.

 The  emptiness  in  her  chest  that  had  been  created  with  the  loss  and  betrayal  of  her  friends  had  never  felt  so  apparent  than  it  did  in  this  moment.  Kindness  from  the  people  she’d  been  brainwashed  to  hate.  People  she  still  may  have  hated.  One  of  them,  him,  offering  it  to  her  as  though  they  were  old  soldiers  at  a  bar.  She  had  never  felt  more  alone.  “  I’ll  be  fine.  Thank  you  though,  Jean.  ”  

[dehducer]

                         @seekjoy​ / salutefear said : you should see the other one.

 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚔  𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍  𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎  𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚍  𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍  𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢  𝚝𝚘  𝚜𝚎𝚎  𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜  𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎  𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎  𝚘𝚏  𝚑𝚒𝚜  𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍  𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎  𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚗  𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍  𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏  𝚒𝚗  𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎  𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.   What  possible  precursor  of  events  had  led  to  Jean  deciding  to  swing  his  fists  into  the  jaw  of  another  patron  at  the  bar.  Her  brows  had  knotted  deeply  to  meet  in  the  middle  when  she  saw  him  stumbling  back  into  the  room  with  the  dried  blood  from  his  nose  smeared  all  over  his  face  and  the  back  of  his  hand.  His  own  face  sporting  a  few  red  marks  she  knew  would  only  bruise  up  over  the  next  few  hours.  How  did  she  always  end  up  being  the  caretaker  for  hot-headed  idiots?   Oftentimes  she  saw  memories  of  Porco  in  the  way  she’d  seen  Jean  act.  Memories  of  Porco  sneaking  back  into  the  warrior  dorms  with  healing  cuts  and  bruises,  too.    They  both  acted  first,  thought  second.    Lucky  for  Jean,   Pieck  always  thought  ahead. 

 After  silently  scolding  him  with  her  grey  eyes  and  folded  arms,  Pieck  had  toddled  over  to  get  the  little  first  aid  kit  she’d  recently  invested  in  since  her  healing  abilities  had  been  stripped  of  her,  but  it  may  as  well  have  had  Jean’s  name  on  it.  She’d  used  it  on  him  more  than  she’d  used  it  on  herself.  “  You’re  an  idiot.  ”    As  harsh  as  her  words  were,   her  tone  was  soft  and  caring.  The  wet  washcloth  dabbing  at  the  dried  blood  around  his  face  as  the  subtle  scent  of  alcohol  filled  the  space  between  them.  Pieck  frowned  at  him,  no  words  needed  as  she  silently  continued  to  clean  him  up.  Any  time  he  suggested  she  didn’t  have  to  do  it,  he  was  met  with  a  gentle  slapping  of  his  wrist  or  a  very  definitive   ‘  stop  talking.  ’ 

 Her  eyes  fell  to  his  knuckles,  taking  his  hand  between  her  two  smaller  ones  as  she  started  to  gently  wipe  at  those,  too.  Noticing  the  little  specks  of  blood  and  god  knows  what  else  was  dried  and  smudged  on  the  busted  and  bruising  knuckles.  Her  thumb  brushed  over  the  damage,  her  eyes  flicking  up  to  Jean’s  where  they  lingered  a  few  seconds  longer  than  they  ought  to  have.  She  liked  his  eyes.  His  stupid  eyes.  Pieck  shook  her  head  and  lightly  cleared  her  throat,  gaze  dropping  back  to  the  hand  between  her  own.  Once  she’d  reached  a  point  of  satisfaction  with  her  handiwork,  Pieck  grabbed  for  a  cotton  bandage  and  some  ointment  and  began  to  dress  the  wounds.

                              “  What  was  the  reason  this  time?  ”

[dehducer]

                        𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞❟ 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ?   —   @seekjoy​​

 Idle  were  the  trees  that  surrounded  them.  The  stillness  of  the  air  around  them  was  eerie  to  a  fault.  There  was  no  wind  rustling  through  the  leaves,  no  evil  howls  or  cracking  branches  of  the  high  speed  winds  she’d  have  expected  during  a  time  as  tumultuous  as  this.  It  was  dead-still.  The  woods  were  a  corpse  in  which  they  took  cover  within,  the  festering  flesh  their  cover  from  the  war  that  waged  just  beyond  the  tree-line.  Pieck  ached,  her  bones  crushed  and  healing  inside  of  her,  cuts  and  gashes  leaking  tendrils  of  steam  into  the  airspace  between  them.  The  lack  of  airflow  caused  it  to  hang  around  them  like  a  blanket,  her  fingers  were  still  bloody  as  they  clutched  around  the  jagged  flesh  just  above  her  elbow. 

 She’d  gone  flying  from  the  safe-haven  of  her  titan,  shot  directly  from  the  neck  crashing  among  the  pine.  Consciousness  had  been  differing  in  and  out  between  the  initial  crash  and  whenever  he  had  arrived.  Hand  pushed  from  her  body,  a  grunted  ‘  leave  me  alone  !  ’  coming  from  her  as  she  struggled  to  even  hold  herself  upright.  Pieck  didn’t  need  help,  especially  not  from  them.  The  monsters  who  ate  her  friends  and  destroyed  her  home.  The  monsters  who  she  begrudgingly  needed  to  work  with  to  get  out  of  this  mess.  The  monsters,  who  she  was  starting  to  see  were  not  in  fact  monsters  at  all.  Pieck  remembers  thinking  Reiner  was  insane  for  the  way  he  talked  about  them,  how  his  stories  held  little  to  no  venom  or  hatred  and  put  it  down  to  his  guilt  getting  the  better  of  him.  Her  own  thoughts  had  been  solidified  that  night  in  Liberio,  when  she  watched  as  Jean’s  team  launched  spear  after  spear  into  her  body.  That  night  had  been  the  closest  she’d  come  to  death  in  a  long  time.

 Here  she  was  now,  arm  wrapped  around  his  shoulder  using  him  like  a  human  crutch  just  so  she  could  walk. Not  the  first  occasion  she  had  replied  on  one  of  them  to  help  her,  how  selflessly  they  had  stepped  in  too.  War  was  vile.  This  rumbling  even  more  so.  Pieck  had  to  take  the  hand  of  help  offered  to  her,  even  if  she  spited  it. 

 “  Not  you.  ”  grunted,  again.  Perhaps  she  was  still  a  little  apprehensive,  like  a  wounded  dog  baring  her  teeth.  Her  bones  ached,  head  stung  as  her  body  worked  to  put  itself  back  together,  her  head  unwillingly  resting  against  his  shoulder.  “  I  can  look  after  myself.  I  don’t…  don’t  need  your  help.  ”  Her  words  were  ironic  given  how  tightly  she  clutched  to  him,  legs  threatening  to  give  out  as  though  they  were  nothing  but  cooked  spaghetti.   “  I  mean  c’mon.  ”  A  chuckle,  hoarse  and  dry—  there  was  little  humour  there.  “  You  could  just  be  waiting  to  try  and  kill  me  again.  ”