[ the villagers of a cliffside town had felt the earlier wrath of a young dragon— young, small for most older beasts, but large enough to wreck havoc in any human home. this dragon, the one who’d frequent the very cliff the village was situated by, grew impatient with the way their civilization grew. rather, how it didn’t grow. oppression had made its den into the hearts of the elders (who weren’t that old at all), and by eren (the heedless, they’ve titled him), oppression was a disease.
any kind that he could smell in the air— it had to be gone. he didn’t like it, but he considers himself merciful, hopeful at heart— they have been given a small amount of time to change their conduct. a strict three days. day one, for discussion, day two for spreading it, and day three for execution. it was almost too much time, eren would argue more, but, alas. three days ways the consensus they came by.
he’s resting during the daytime, into the depths of the cliff’s few caves, and wonders as he pretends to nap, too anxious to let himself rest: what grand plan did they have to offer him? was his warning enough for change?
they said they would think of something to appease him, and eren waits, patiently (impatiently). he was young and still making his title. he takes it seriously— he hopes they will as well. ]
[It was pretty common for demi-humans to be the outcasts of human settlements, and he was no exception. It didn't matter that he was more human than beast, with being the child of a human and a demi-human. The yellow wings on his back were all people really saw, just like they had with his mother.
The truth was, this wasn't the first time the village had a dragon problem. The last dragon they dealt with a decade prior had been appeased with an offering, a sacrifice. They had offered a fair demi-human, with yellow wings and a voice that matched her angelic look. No one knew what happened to the woman after she'd offered- eaten, enslaved- it didn't matter. What mattered was the dragon stopped his demands and took his leave. Dragons, for all their talk of superiority, wanted nothing more than to be treated like gods, they surmised. And sometimes that meant live sacrifices
Ten years later, they had no reason to think the same trick wouldn't work twice. Not when the last sacrifice's son had grown up to have a similar beauty. Even better that his father had passed away a few years earlier from war, leaving no one who'd try to shield him from accepting his fate.
The young man couldn't say he felt a deep love for the town, but he didn't want to see the town destroyed either. Besides, what choice did he have? The wilderness outside the village was far too dangerous for someone like him to venture.
So he agreed. He agreed to act as their sacrifice, knowing full well it wasn't a choice at all.
Even as he felt his stomach churn and his hands couldn't stop shaking, he traveled outside the village to where he knew the dragon had been staying. He brought his staff, a mage's staff that'd once belong to his mother. He wasn't a powerful spell caster by any right, the nearest mage academy was too far and too expensive for an orphan demi-human to ever attend. But he knew a few spells his mother had taught him, that he had figured out on his own.
Besides...it'd be nice to have something of his mother's with him, in his last few moments.
After what felt like both an eternity and far too short, he finally reached the mouth of the cave. With a weak, timid voice, he clears his throat and calls out]
[ it was in that moment, where eren’s eyes, like aqua-green orbs against the sun’s little reflection slide open and take in the figure by the mouth of the den. the hollow echoes a near-thunderous growl that rolls as his answer and shakes the earth he shifts across.
the growl becomes a guttural hiss between teeth that come to light as his neck extends to the visitor, scales still shadowed by the cavern’s darkness but visible enough to give his horns, his body, all of him a shape that seems too small for where he’s crawled into (he’s done this on purpose, because big is something he wants to give off).
he wants to assume that this was only a messenger, and doesn’t waste energy to pull the rest of him out of his spot— but, his scales scrape against the mineral walls and cause chips of stone to fall.
the young man’s voice shakes, and it gives the dragon a rush of satisfaction, and confidence for his voice to sound off. severe is what he sounds like, the drum of his throat dragging his words out. ]
The answer.
[ he gets right to the point, and doesn’t, for a single second, assume this boy was for him.
they couldn’t be so crazy, could they? or was it he, that was too innocent to trust them? ]
[That...that sure was a dragon. The dragon may be small for its kind and doing his best to appear big, but it's definitely big enough for the young man. Enough that he gives a fearful little squeak and a step back when that dragon head appears, with full teeth on display.
This...yeah, he was going to die, wasn't he? He had known coming up here that was the most likely scenario, but facing your death head on is an entirely different matter.]
I--
[Right. The answer. He had to give it to make it clear]
T-The...The village decided to give you an offering, o-oh mighty dragon. [he gulps, gesturing to himself] A live offering, to do what you wish.
Just...just like the last dragon. The same offering.
[To show respect, obviously. This dragon was no lesser than the last.]
[ the dragon pulls back with a jolt, as if something had struck him, a horrible sound scratching his throat— akin to metal scraping against metal. something had struck him: the answer. with it comes an eerie silence, one that eren drowns the den in until it’s suffocating, until all that hums against the walls is his breathing. it escalates.
they’d give their own kind up as a “sacrifice”, to save themselves. well— this one had wings, not every human had those. did they think it was pretty? that he’d be swooned by the song of a bird? who was the dumbass to tell them: eren the heedless likes birds, you should give him a bird.
they didn’t give him a bird, with wings meant for flying. they gave him a chick, wings clipped, inside a cage. this? this was an insult. the dragon digs his talons into the earth, stretches the claw of his wing to drag his body out. and out he comes: a sleek black, his scales reflecting the occasional sheen of navy, and his spine, his membranes— a bright teal that strikes like a walking aurora.
his scaley lips pull up to show his teeth as the dragon’s head looms over him. his eyes are wide, the black in them slits. he looks him up and down. he snarls as he speaks up after moments of torture. ]
I’m not the last dragon.
[ rage boils his blood, until his nostrils flare and he whips his neck, his horned head accompanying. he’s being mocked. he’s being defamed before his name truly becomes famous. what the dragon does now is what you would see in a man who’s about to lose his head. his chest expands and deflates rapidly with furious huffs, he paces without actually taking steps. he cannot gods damn believe— ]
Why?! [ it’s a boom of noise, rebellious at best. ] Why would they send you?!
[ why didn’t they just change themselves? he didn’t understand it. he couldn’t wrap his tail around it. he couldn’t— shit. he couldn’t understand, and he’s fuming that he can’t. ]
[The boy is thoroughly intimidated. He's cowering, his wings folded and pinned close to his back as if he's trying to make himself as small as possible. Dragons were scary creatures on good days. But seeing one mad? Well it was an object of terror.
He doesn't know what to do. He was supposed to convince this dragon to accept his life in place of the village, that's how it was supposed to go]
B-Because- [his voice is tiny, shaking] D-Dragons want to be treated as gods. S-So you give them an offering like you would the gods.
[He explains the logic, not knowing what else to do]
Please...spare the village. I-I'll do anything in return.
[ he doesn’t want to be a god. respected, yes. human offerings? no. nononono. if he lets them off with a smack on the wrist, what would it do to his reputation? he would never be taken seriously, as they do with him now. every time, it would be this, and the dragon would be known as nothing but talk, with insides made of human flesh from how soft. eren does not sway.
his wingspan spreads, and his blood takes him barraging forth with a short bark— right towards the boy. he’s in the air before that, his hind leg, making a grab for him to talk, into the daytime sky. ]
Is that you speaking, or them?
[ it’s a short flight there, it won’t take long; he brings the boy with him, to show them what they’ve done. they’ll never do it again. ]
I’ll spare the village. [ the dragon says with a growl that does not tear itself away from anger. ] I’ll spare them all from this.
[ for some reason, though, he doesn’t seem like he’s in a good mood to forgive, his thundering voice cluttered with scorn. ]
[The boy had never been the most nimble of folk on a good day. Now being near petrified from his fear, there's no chance of him moving out of the way of that claw. Instead he yelps as he gets grabbed, squeezing his eyes shut as if he's expecting his end to happen.
But instead the heedless keeps talking, taking him into the sky as he does so. The boy, despite his wings, had never learned how to fly. His mother was gone before he was old enough to be taught. Even so, this isn't how he ever imagined his first time in the sky would be. Being held by an angry dragon who sounded like he very much intended to kill someone]
I-It's me! [He pleaded, the fear drenched his words] There's innocent people there! Please!
[Not everyone was involved in this decision. Not everyone had been involved in sacrificing his mother. Outcast he may have been, there were still those who had treated him with kindness when they could afford it.
And uh yeah, he doesn't trust the dragon's tone at all]
[ they soar through a mask of clouds before a clearing, where the village begins to spread over the horizon line quickly. taking the draft of winds downwards, eren descends and breathes in. smoke begins to fume from his nostrils and his throat glows a brilliant blue underneath the softer layer of scales. ]
I’m not the one who’s The Heedless.
[ because he told them— he told them. he told them and they didn’t listen. they thought he was too young, smaller and more than green compared to the last dragon. they thought all wrong.
people begin to stop what their doing as they notice the pitch black shadow approaching. the dragon clamors to signal his arrival, his judgement obscured by emotion that hasn’t been trained to contain himself. he doesn’t think of the innocents, he thinks of those who have wronged him. who dare take the life of this boy away for their own sake. because all of them, every single one— was too afraid to take a stance, too submissive to speak back to their elders, or too comfortable to change. you don’t fight with peace. you fight with war. ]
One life in exchange for many. That’s what they want.
[ they’re less that insects content with their chains, and better off dead. and with a second cry so grand, of a dragon ten times his size, fire erupts from his jaws, barreling down to their earth and leaving the elder’s haven in carnage first.
he was very clear about what he wanted, and very clear about his intentions if demands weren’t met. there was no room for third chances when seconds had already been given.
the enraged dragon, “heedless” to the boy’s calls and the village’s cries from down below as he swoops a second time. he sets ablaze another line of huts made for working mills, black smog erupting from the earth as the stream of blue hits and destruction spreads. ]
[The dragon may think he's doing what was right, but the boy is nothing short of horrified. Watching the creature burn the village. First the elder's house, and then a row of huts. He knew the people in those huts, the people who were down on the ground, screaming as they flee or dying from the blaze.
Stuck in these claws, he struggles to get out of them. He shakes around, he struggles, he even tries to hit the claw. He screams out]
[ screaming, shouting and especially thrashing would get his talons to squeeze the boy tighter, squeeze the air right out of him and drop his legs closer to the fire. even from how high they are, the heat rises with the gale from his wings with every flap. ]
Is that what you want?!
[ he pulls him back up, and expects silence as he unravels one more stream of fire into the streets. he will not have a brainwashed sacrifice tell him what he should do on his own time. in the dragon’s head, he was saving him. he was giving to everyone what they deserved. he was saving his own pride and future, most of all.
the sky, once blue and bright with sun, becomes a dirty mist of dirt and ash, black and dense brown, heavy and nearly unbreathable. the clouds of smog block out the rays of light, and all that’s left is eren’s mark: be free or be dead.
he could hear some people shriek why as they still breathe. we did everything! we gave you a sacrifice! the only thing that the dragon shouts as he ascends with the winds and circles his way into the direction he wished to go is a rebellious shriek in return.
he stops, and glides away after that, with the boy still clutched in his talons and toward another cliff he had made a nest in. especially for one like him, who jumped from place to place and could never keep still to one, having many resting points was viable. he drops the boy near stone, where weeds grew, in front of another cave he slithers back into.
without a word. he’s so angry he had the energy to bring even this mountain top down. he only didn’t have the size, nor the strength to do it. perhaps it’s what irrationally frustrates him more. ]
[The squeezing of the claws hurt his rather squishy body. He coughs from the air being squeezed out of his lungs, and his bones strain not to crack under the strength of it. But he still tries to yell that yes, yes that's what he wants. He wants him not to murder everyone he knows, thank you very much.]
Y-Yes! Please stop!
[But it's clear his cries are falling on deaf ears. He keeps it up, until the air becomes so thick with smoke that he instead starts having coughing fits. By the time the dragon finally flies away back to his new nest, the boy has grown silent and limp in his claws. Part from lack of air, and part from despair.
When he is dropped, he hits the ground unceremoniously. His wings look injured, being the most delicate part of his body. But that's barely noticeable with the pain he feels inside his chest. He's coughing from all the smoke and ash, made only worst by the sobbing that's not coming out uncontrollably.
It takes him awhile to find the air to speak. Honestly, his voice is small and hoarse now: too much screaming and smoke damage. ]
That was everyone I ever knew... my father's grave was there... my shrine to my mother... y-you torched it all... y-you made me watch!
[He squeezes his eyes shut as another bout of tears come forth. He sobs. This really isn't the behavior of someone whose been "saved".]
[ the dragon doesn’t understand it as he listens from inside the darkness of the new cave. he doesn’t understand what’s so important about graves when the life is gone to begin with. the value of a shrine when his personal beliefs only revolve around his own liberty. ancestors were shadows meant to surpass, and honor only comes for the living.
he had no parents to relate with; he hatched one day and simply fell out of the nest when the she-dragon felt it fit to leave him alone. the strongest survive. if you’re too weak, you’re better off gone, and nature does that for you.
humans were much too sheltered, this boy was. gooey like molasses and he hisses with repulsion. he hisses with disgust when all that’s flapping out of this boy’s mouth was how horrible this was, that he wanted to die. he was used and still wants to do their bidding. what.
a god damn waste of time and energy. he can’t believe it. he can’t believe what he’s hearing! eren’s confused. he’s irascible. he doesn’t even know what to say without it just being screams.
another offense that rings so loudly in his earholes that anger almost allows him the will to do it. silence stretches for longer periods, until, in his own breaths, the dragon responds deadpan and growling between his words. ]
No wonder they sent you, slave. [ he just. needs to be alone as he was meant to and this sort of whining aggravates his already seething brain. ] Go away.
[He's not surprised the dragon lacks any empathy in his words. He just destroyed an entire village because he was offended. He made him watch- taunted him when he begged for it to stop.
He hated this dragon. The heedless? they should've called him the Abomination, the Cruel. And now that he was expecting him to just walk away is just...]
And go where? That was the only village in the region. I'd never make it alive to the next.
[it was a several day's ride- and that was if you had a horse. He was on foot, with no supplies, no direction, and wilderness full of monsters. And even if by some miracle he did make it, they'd never accept him after what happened here. He got his entire village killed - they'd likely stone him to death.
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to still himself]
I'm dead no matter what, thanks to you. So at least give me the freedom to choose how to die.
[ the huff the dragon makes wouldn’t be complete if it didn’t sound like he was laughing at this. mess.
he doesn’t understand. he doesn’t understand he doesn’t get why and, what’s worse! the more he can hear him, the more there’s a little voice in his head whispering doubts to his thoughts.
did he make the right call? was really caring about the freedom of these villages worth it it when the humans were dead from the start? he shouldn’t have cared so much to begin with. or wasn’t he just caring about himself? they’d never understand.
he hated the boy. ]
No one’s stopping you.
[ they are, in fact, at the edge of a cliff. why was he still talking to this runt, though? it made him want to drag his claws down his face. nothing’s stopping him either, from leaving. he could leave right now to another cliff, and be rid of him.
but the dragon’s pride, already wounded, keeps him from taking one more blow. he was a dragon, this was his world to roam, and he would stand the ground that pleased him. ]
[He hears that huff, and it sounds like a laugh. After everything, it enrages him enough that he feels compelled to do something completely reckless.
He pulls himself up. His body hurts and protests the move, but the anger manages to power his weak muscles. He picks up a stone that's on the ground. Nothing special, just an ordinary stone.
And he chucks it, right in the directly he saw the dragon's head. He's not even sure if it'd hurt those scales, but in his temper, he doesn't care]
I said I wanted you to kill me! You made this mess, y-you selfish and stupid lizard! You fix it!
You act like you're better, but you're stupid to figure out how to change things without torching places and now you're sulking, aren't you!?
[He takes a deep breath. His body is trembling with fear. This is suicide. Mouthing off to a dragon is suicide. But...that's what he wanted, right? And the rage was still fueling him]
You're just a SLAVE to your dumb dragon impulses, aren't you!? So go ahead and finish the job!
[ all that there is, after all shouting was done, is silence. the rock hits his snout with a thwunk before bouncing toward the stone walls, perhaps the only thing that causes him to bark. the word slave echoes so loudly that he can’t make much sense of the rest of the insults.
they didn’t really matter.
the dragon abruptly comes bursting out of the cave afterwards, for a few seconds appearing as if he’s darting for the boy with his snout agape, the back of his throat burning red like coals and his spinal membranes in a flaring, colorful display— he cries out like thunder, his tail lashing out in a smack against the stoney earth, the cliff side, chipping off stone and cracking the surface they stood on. he does this repeatedly, roar after roar. he tears the cliff’s edge apart with each stomp into it. he thrashes, he causes an uproar, but for not even a second does he touch the boy.
it cracks further, becoming unstable for anyone with legs against a crumbling surface. the dragon’s neck swerves to the boy on last time, his nostrils repulsing the human’s smell with ribbons of smoke. ]
I’ll do what I want, you—!!
[ CRACK, goes the floor beneath their feet, like bones breaking.and it fissures upward, enough that his attention looks up and follows the crack. cracks.
ah. and there follows the rumbling. he fuckin broke this side of the mountain. like literally broke. breaking. (rock avalanche) ]
[As the dragon bursts out of the cave, the boy's insides tremble with fear. Here it comes, he thinks to himself. The ending, he said something that struck a nerve with the dragon, and now he would die.
Except, none the attacks hit him. No, he's hitting everything around it in his fury, but he clearly keeps missing him. And the way he was moving around...it reminded him of the children he'd sometimes watch. The little ones, who could only express their negative feelings through crying and tantrums.
This dragon was throwing a temper tantrum. And still failing to kill him. So he yells again]
Oh really?! How can you be free if you can't think beyond your impulses?! You're just a slave to your own--
[but he gets cut off by the floor beneath them BREAKING. He loses his footing, getting knocked down the mountain. His wings flap out, trying to catch him, but without knowing how to fly the most they can do is slow the fall as he starts to fall with the avalanche.
He yells out, trying to reach for something out of instinct. This is it, he thinks. He should be relieved, but yet he's still filled with terror that makes him scream as he falls]
perhaps it was the shock of the entire cliffside cracking under the weight of his fury that keeps the dragon at a standstill. he doesn’t move the way he should, he doesn’t flee— he only watches the sound of fissuring rock grow louder and louder up the peak, following the lines until they release the stone sliding.
one slab breaks apart into many on the first impact they take, and it’s too late for the dragon to spread his wings and fly. it’s what he does, a tremendous wingspan that tripled his size. the rocks, of course, hit them, some sharp and tearing the membranes that kept him aloft in the air, other bludgeoning his bones. they’re all coming too fast and too have, with his legs losing footing and unable to help in preserving the ground under them that was once a surface. it gives away, and they fall.
the dragon cries out, taking most, of not the extreme bulk of damage without even meaning to. he hated this boy, but there was something that still bled in his heart, in his core, if he were to open his eyes and find him dead. it would mean everything was in vain, that the boy got what his brainwashed mind wanted, and what’s worse— got eren to do it for him.
and one quick look into the terror in his eyes showed full well what the dragon had suspected: he didn’t truly want to die. he couldn’t suffer another blow like this to his pride, and his honor that still lives. he couldn’t.
the dragon reaches out with his tattered wing hook and wraps it over whatever he could see of the boy, pulling his wing to his chest— and from there, he can’t remember the rest. a boulder hits his skull, the protective plates from his horns too underdeveloped to give him strong enough protection to stay awake. once they hit the ground and dust disperses—
the dragon is half covered in stone, hurt and passed out in a pile of debris. at least the boy was safer than he was.
[It all happened so fast. One moment he was preparing for his own death. He wasn't about to survive an avalanche or this fall, not with wings that he didn't know how to use. He was terrified, and deep down he didn't want to die, but this was the only choice he had wasn't it? A quick death now instead of a slow brutal one later.
But then, he's denied that as the dragon grabs him with his wing and shields him from the debris, even while taking most of the hits himself.]
W-What're you-
[He is confused and surprised by the move. Why? Why was this dragon saving him? He already destroyed everything meager thing the boy had in his life, had insured he'd die no matter what - why did he insist on saving him?! On keeping him alive?! Was this some twisted torture game?
It's not like the dragon could answer though. Since as they land on the ground, it's very clear that the dragon has passed out even with him still wrapped up in the wing. The boy has another fit of coughing from the dust that the avalanche kicked up, but for the most part, he's okay besides damaged wings.]
This day keeps getting worse and worse...
[With nothing else to do, he starts climbing and wiggling out of that wing hold he was in, moving slowly until he finally pries himself free. Stumbling out onto the ground, he glances back to see yep- that sure is a unconscious and half covered dragon. It looked like it was still breathing...which, he wasn't sure how to feel about that. There's a moment where he feels bad, before he reminds himself that this dragon brought this on himself.]
Not that he'd ever admit it, toddlers are more mature. [He mutters to himself with a huff. He looks away from the dragon, trying to get an idea of where they landed. It looked like the start of the forest, at the foot of the mountains. He was more familiar with the part of the forest that laid close to his village, but...
Just as he started wondering what he was supposed to do? His wrist starts erupts into a sharp burning pain. He winces, making a surprised pain sound. He looks at his wrist, and stares wide eye as a tattoo starts to form ]
[ pebbles and smaller debris roll and creak from their place as the dragon breathes. it’s shallow, the larger stones weigh down on his chest and certainly makes it harder to inflate his lungs the way he needed to.
for now, his breaths are short, silent and uneven. his jaws remain slightly agape and his tongue rolls out lifelessly, hanging between his teeth and— lo and behold, if the boy were to look . . . the same mark burns into the middle of his pointed tongue.
the dragon’s left wing if folded, injured but doable. now his right . . . his right was in an unnatural angle, a stone crushing it against more debris. he doesn’t know what’s going on, and the first thing to show signs of movement is his third eyelid, sliding open and revealing to eren a world that refuses to stand still.
he only groans, and for now stays still, half-conscious and only afterwards beginning to stir under the mess he’s caught in. he might’ve . . . seen the boy? upside down? his head hurts and he can’t feel his claws.
you know, a part of him even has to ask himself again: just what did you think you were doing?
maybe he needed to dream, but he fights his body’s growing urge to slip away, regardless. he grunts, and his claws twitch— but soon enough he’s out like a light again. (the tongue, though, keeps moving around more. it burns). ]
[The boy had been staring in growing horror at the mark forming on his wrist. He knew exactly what kind of mark it is: a soulmate mark. He remembered his parents' mark clearly, the only couple with marks in the whole village. His mother had explained to him with such warmth and happiness. And the day she was sacrificed, his father's had burned his skin and rendered his arm useless.
But why...why was it showing up now? Of all places, with all things?
When the dragon moves, the boy's attention immediately goes to it- wondering if the foul beast would wake. And while he's looking he catches sight of his tongue- a tongue that now had the same mark that was growing on his wrist.]
What? What...curse is this?
[His soulmate was this wretched dragon? This monster? This...this was even worse than never finding your soulmate.
He's tempted to yell at the dragon more, to demand what draconic magic he's cast on him to cause this- but the dragon yet again passes out again. it only really registers then that the dragon is badly hurt from the fall.
A few moments ago, he might've been tempted to leave the dragon to succumb to his wounds, but...he glances at the mark on his wrist. If this was a true soulmate mark, then the dragon dying would probably cost him his hand. Which would only make his chances of finding a quick way to die even worse.
...Ugh.
He hates this, but he takes a deep breath and approaches the dragon. Reaching out, he'll put his hand on the scales of the dragon. Concentrating what magic he had, he starts singing- though weakly since his voice was still hoarse.
As he sings, there's a glowing light, and slowly, the magic starts to take effect. The dragon's injuries start to heal up, slowly but surely. Likely he doesn't have enough power to heal an entire dragon in one go, but it was a start. ]
[ it might take a while for the dragon to wake up again. at most there’re are only drowsy grumbles, occasionally batting away at the boy he only say as a blurry shadow before falling still once more. any touches he does feel in and out of conscious earns growls. lips lift to show what he can of his fangs, his curled wing folding even closer to his belly. that’s all the energy he has.
there was something he’d keep dreaming about. some other dragon-like beast, defeating the heedless until he could no longer use his tattered wings or walk on his broken bones and shattered horns. he could hardly move. he was bleeding, but there was always a little bundle of something tucked away under his wing. he couldn’t move, but his heart pounded like a warrior’s, with resolve to live and fight for the bundle like he would his very own freedom.
the little bundle was his freedom.
the mark speaks to eren, but he doesn’t know what it means. in all honesty, the next time he opens his eyes— he hardly remembers what it was that he dreamt of. he just— aches, his wing aches. the headache and superficial bruises underneath scales that took more bludgeoning damage are healed. he was. he was strong enough to take it, obviously (he’s still mildly flabbergasted that he did). the first thing that comes to mind, though, in a jolt, is to look under the left, curled wing.
he dreamed there was something . . . important . . . there. ]
[ when scents begin to prickle at his snout and awaken him further, he realizes. the boy. the dumb, stupid boy wasn’t under there, and when he shifts to stand in a small rush—
he cries out terribly, snapping his neck back to the perpetrator: boulders crushing his right wing into that grotesque angle, and in the shock . . . reacting like any trapped, oversized animal would.
it’s not a good idea, all this moving around and screaming. but he’s trapped, his tongue burns (nothing ever burns on him, he doesn’t even know the feeling other than this is really weird and uncomfortable), he feels like he’s lost something still riding out the emotions of a dream, and he’s alone, or so he thinks.
[The boy had been taking a break when the dragon started to stir. Healing a dragon was no easy task, especially when the creature was already pinned under rocks he was too small to move.
This...this was not a good situation to be in, every way the boy looked at it, it was bad. Just what did he do to deserve all this?
But before he can get too deep into his despairing thoughts, the dragon starts freaking out. Great. this again.
the boy quickly stands up and tries to approach him. ]
H-Hey, calm down! You'll bring the mountain down on us again!
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any kind that he could smell in the air— it had to be gone. he didn’t like it, but he considers himself merciful, hopeful at heart— they have been given a small amount of time to change their conduct. a strict three days. day one, for discussion, day two for spreading it, and day three for execution. it was almost too much time, eren would argue more, but, alas. three days ways the consensus they came by.
he’s resting during the daytime, into the depths of the cliff’s few caves, and wonders as he pretends to nap, too anxious to let himself rest: what grand plan did they have to offer him? was his warning enough for change?
they said they would think of something to appease him, and eren waits, patiently (impatiently). he was young and still making his title. he takes it seriously— he hopes they will as well. ]
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The truth was, this wasn't the first time the village had a dragon problem. The last dragon they dealt with a decade prior had been appeased with an offering, a sacrifice. They had offered a fair demi-human, with yellow wings and a voice that matched her angelic look. No one knew what happened to the woman after she'd offered- eaten, enslaved- it didn't matter. What mattered was the dragon stopped his demands and took his leave. Dragons, for all their talk of superiority, wanted nothing more than to be treated like gods, they surmised. And sometimes that meant live sacrifices
Ten years later, they had no reason to think the same trick wouldn't work twice. Not when the last sacrifice's son had grown up to have a similar beauty. Even better that his father had passed away a few years earlier from war, leaving no one who'd try to shield him from accepting his fate.
The young man couldn't say he felt a deep love for the town, but he didn't want to see the town destroyed either. Besides, what choice did he have? The wilderness outside the village was far too dangerous for someone like him to venture.
So he agreed. He agreed to act as their sacrifice, knowing full well it wasn't a choice at all.
Even as he felt his stomach churn and his hands couldn't stop shaking, he traveled outside the village to where he knew the dragon had been staying. He brought his staff, a mage's staff that'd once belong to his mother. He wasn't a powerful spell caster by any right, the nearest mage academy was too far and too expensive for an orphan demi-human to ever attend. But he knew a few spells his mother had taught him, that he had figured out on his own.
Besides...it'd be nice to have something of his mother's with him, in his last few moments.
After what felt like both an eternity and far too short, he finally reached the mouth of the cave. With a weak, timid voice, he clears his throat and calls out]
H-Hello?
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the growl becomes a guttural hiss between teeth that come to light as his neck extends to the visitor, scales still shadowed by the cavern’s darkness but visible enough to give his horns, his body, all of him a shape that seems too small for where he’s crawled into (he’s done this on purpose, because big is something he wants to give off).
he wants to assume that this was only a messenger, and doesn’t waste energy to pull the rest of him out of his spot— but, his scales scrape against the mineral walls and cause chips of stone to fall.
the young man’s voice shakes, and it gives the dragon a rush of satisfaction, and confidence for his voice to sound off. severe is what he sounds like, the drum of his throat dragging his words out. ]
The answer.
[ he gets right to the point, and doesn’t, for a single second, assume this boy was for him.
they couldn’t be so crazy, could they? or was it he, that was too innocent to trust them? ]
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This...yeah, he was going to die, wasn't he? He had known coming up here that was the most likely scenario, but facing your death head on is an entirely different matter.]
I--
[Right. The answer. He had to give it to make it clear]
T-The...The village decided to give you an offering, o-oh mighty dragon. [he gulps, gesturing to himself] A live offering, to do what you wish.
Just...just like the last dragon. The same offering.
[To show respect, obviously. This dragon was no lesser than the last.]
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they’d give their own kind up as a “sacrifice”, to save themselves. well— this one had wings, not every human had those. did they think it was pretty? that he’d be swooned by the song of a bird? who was the dumbass to tell them: eren the heedless likes birds, you should give him a bird.
they didn’t give him a bird, with wings meant for flying. they gave him a chick, wings clipped, inside a cage. this? this was an insult. the dragon digs his talons into the earth, stretches the claw of his wing to drag his body out. and out he comes: a sleek black, his scales reflecting the occasional sheen of navy, and his spine, his membranes— a bright teal that strikes like a walking aurora.
his scaley lips pull up to show his teeth as the dragon’s head looms over him. his eyes are wide, the black in them slits. he looks him up and down. he snarls as he speaks up after moments of torture. ]
I’m not the last dragon.
[ rage boils his blood, until his nostrils flare and he whips his neck, his horned head accompanying. he’s being mocked. he’s being defamed before his name truly becomes famous. what the dragon does now is what you would see in a man who’s about to lose his head. his chest expands and deflates rapidly with furious huffs, he paces without actually taking steps. he cannot gods damn believe— ]
Why?! [ it’s a boom of noise, rebellious at best. ] Why would they send you?!
[ why didn’t they just change themselves? he didn’t understand it. he couldn’t wrap his tail around it. he couldn’t— shit. he couldn’t understand, and he’s fuming that he can’t. ]
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He doesn't know what to do. He was supposed to convince this dragon to accept his life in place of the village, that's how it was supposed to go]
B-Because- [his voice is tiny, shaking] D-Dragons want to be treated as gods. S-So you give them an offering like you would the gods.
[He explains the logic, not knowing what else to do]
Please...spare the village. I-I'll do anything in return.
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his wingspan spreads, and his blood takes him barraging forth with a short bark— right towards the boy. he’s in the air before that, his hind leg, making a grab for him to talk, into the daytime sky. ]
Is that you speaking, or them?
[ it’s a short flight there, it won’t take long; he brings the boy with him, to show them what they’ve done. they’ll never do it again. ]
I’ll spare the village. [ the dragon says with a growl that does not tear itself away from anger. ] I’ll spare them all from this.
[ for some reason, though, he doesn’t seem like he’s in a good mood to forgive, his thundering voice cluttered with scorn. ]
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But instead the heedless keeps talking, taking him into the sky as he does so. The boy, despite his wings, had never learned how to fly. His mother was gone before he was old enough to be taught. Even so, this isn't how he ever imagined his first time in the sky would be. Being held by an angry dragon who sounded like he very much intended to kill someone]
I-It's me! [He pleaded, the fear drenched his words] There's innocent people there! Please!
[Not everyone was involved in this decision. Not everyone had been involved in sacrificing his mother. Outcast he may have been, there were still those who had treated him with kindness when they could afford it.
And uh yeah, he doesn't trust the dragon's tone at all]
What do you mean by that?
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I’m not the one who’s The Heedless.
[ because he told them— he told them. he told them and they didn’t listen. they thought he was too young, smaller and more than green compared to the last dragon. they thought all wrong.
people begin to stop what their doing as they notice the pitch black shadow approaching. the dragon clamors to signal his arrival, his judgement obscured by emotion that hasn’t been trained to contain himself. he doesn’t think of the innocents, he thinks of those who have wronged him. who dare take the life of this boy away for their own sake. because all of them, every single one— was too afraid to take a stance, too submissive to speak back to their elders, or too comfortable to change. you don’t fight with peace. you fight with war. ]
One life in exchange for many. That’s what they want.
[ they’re less that insects content with their chains, and better off dead. and with a second cry so grand, of a dragon ten times his size, fire erupts from his jaws, barreling down to their earth and leaving the elder’s haven in carnage first.
he was very clear about what he wanted, and very clear about his intentions if demands weren’t met. there was no room for third chances when seconds had already been given.
the enraged dragon, “heedless” to the boy’s calls and the village’s cries from down below as he swoops a second time. he sets ablaze another line of huts made for working mills, black smog erupting from the earth as the stream of blue hits and destruction spreads. ]
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Stuck in these claws, he struggles to get out of them. He shakes around, he struggles, he even tries to hit the claw. He screams out]
Stop! Please stop! I beg you!
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Is that what you want?!
[ he pulls him back up, and expects silence as he unravels one more stream of fire into the streets. he will not have a brainwashed sacrifice tell him what he should do on his own time. in the dragon’s head, he was saving him. he was giving to everyone what they deserved. he was saving his own pride and future, most of all.
the sky, once blue and bright with sun, becomes a dirty mist of dirt and ash, black and dense brown, heavy and nearly unbreathable. the clouds of smog block out the rays of light, and all that’s left is eren’s mark: be free or be dead.
he could hear some people shriek why as they still breathe. we did everything! we gave you a sacrifice! the only thing that the dragon shouts as he ascends with the winds and circles his way into the direction he wished to go is a rebellious shriek in return.
he stops, and glides away after that, with the boy still clutched in his talons and toward another cliff he had made a nest in. especially for one like him, who jumped from place to place and could never keep still to one, having many resting points was viable. he drops the boy near stone, where weeds grew, in front of another cave he slithers back into.
without a word. he’s so angry he had the energy to bring even this mountain top down. he only didn’t have the size, nor the strength to do it. perhaps it’s what irrationally frustrates him more. ]
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Y-Yes! Please stop!
[But it's clear his cries are falling on deaf ears. He keeps it up, until the air becomes so thick with smoke that he instead starts having coughing fits. By the time the dragon finally flies away back to his new nest, the boy has grown silent and limp in his claws. Part from lack of air, and part from despair.
When he is dropped, he hits the ground unceremoniously. His wings look injured, being the most delicate part of his body. But that's barely noticeable with the pain he feels inside his chest. He's coughing from all the smoke and ash, made only worst by the sobbing that's not coming out uncontrollably.
It takes him awhile to find the air to speak. Honestly, his voice is small and hoarse now: too much screaming and smoke damage. ]
That was everyone I ever knew... my father's grave was there... my shrine to my mother... y-you torched it all... y-you made me watch!
[He squeezes his eyes shut as another bout of tears come forth. He sobs. This really isn't the behavior of someone whose been "saved".]
Just kill me now...please. Get it over with.
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he had no parents to relate with; he hatched one day and simply fell out of the nest when the she-dragon felt it fit to leave him alone. the strongest survive. if you’re too weak, you’re better off gone, and nature does that for you.
humans were much too sheltered, this boy was. gooey like molasses and he hisses with repulsion. he hisses with disgust when all that’s flapping out of this boy’s mouth was how horrible this was, that he wanted to die. he was used and still wants to do their bidding. what.
a god damn waste of time and energy. he can’t believe it. he can’t believe what he’s hearing! eren’s confused. he’s irascible. he doesn’t even know what to say without it just being screams.
another offense that rings so loudly in his earholes that anger almost allows him the will to do it. silence stretches for longer periods, until, in his own breaths, the dragon responds deadpan and growling between his words. ]
No wonder they sent you, slave. [ he just. needs to be alone as he was meant to and this sort of whining aggravates his already seething brain. ] Go away.
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He hated this dragon. The heedless? they should've called him the Abomination, the Cruel. And now that he was expecting him to just walk away is just...]
And go where? That was the only village in the region. I'd never make it alive to the next.
[it was a several day's ride- and that was if you had a horse. He was on foot, with no supplies, no direction, and wilderness full of monsters. And even if by some miracle he did make it, they'd never accept him after what happened here. He got his entire village killed - they'd likely stone him to death.
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to still himself]
I'm dead no matter what, thanks to you. So at least give me the freedom to choose how to die.
[He wanted all this over quickly.]
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he doesn’t understand. he doesn’t understand he doesn’t get why and, what’s worse! the more he can hear him, the more there’s a little voice in his head whispering doubts to his thoughts.
did he make the right call? was really caring about the freedom of these villages worth it it when the humans were dead from the start? he shouldn’t have cared so much to begin with. or wasn’t he just caring about himself? they’d never understand.
he hated the boy. ]
No one’s stopping you.
[ they are, in fact, at the edge of a cliff. why was he still talking to this runt, though? it made him want to drag his claws down his face. nothing’s stopping him either, from leaving. he could leave right now to another cliff, and be rid of him.
but the dragon’s pride, already wounded, keeps him from taking one more blow. he was a dragon, this was his world to roam, and he would stand the ground that pleased him. ]
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He pulls himself up. His body hurts and protests the move, but the anger manages to power his weak muscles. He picks up a stone that's on the ground. Nothing special, just an ordinary stone.
And he chucks it, right in the directly he saw the dragon's head. He's not even sure if it'd hurt those scales, but in his temper, he doesn't care]
I said I wanted you to kill me! You made this mess, y-you selfish and stupid lizard! You fix it!
You act like you're better, but you're stupid to figure out how to change things without torching places and now you're sulking, aren't you!?
[He takes a deep breath. His body is trembling with fear. This is suicide. Mouthing off to a dragon is suicide. But...that's what he wanted, right? And the rage was still fueling him]
You're just a SLAVE to your dumb dragon impulses, aren't you!? So go ahead and finish the job!
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they didn’t really matter.
the dragon abruptly comes bursting out of the cave afterwards, for a few seconds appearing as if he’s darting for the boy with his snout agape, the back of his throat burning red like coals and his spinal membranes in a flaring, colorful display— he cries out like thunder, his tail lashing out in a smack against the stoney earth, the cliff side, chipping off stone and cracking the surface they stood on. he does this repeatedly, roar after roar. he tears the cliff’s edge apart with each stomp into it. he thrashes, he causes an uproar, but for not even a second does he touch the boy.
it cracks further, becoming unstable for anyone with legs against a crumbling surface. the dragon’s neck swerves to the boy on last time, his nostrils repulsing the human’s smell with ribbons of smoke. ]
I’ll do what I want, you—!!
[ CRACK, goes the floor beneath their feet, like bones breaking.and it fissures upward, enough that his attention looks up and follows the crack. cracks.
ah. and there follows the rumbling. he fuckin broke this side of the mountain. like literally broke. breaking. (rock avalanche) ]
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Except, none the attacks hit him. No, he's hitting everything around it in his fury, but he clearly keeps missing him. And the way he was moving around...it reminded him of the children he'd sometimes watch. The little ones, who could only express their negative feelings through crying and tantrums.
This dragon was throwing a temper tantrum. And still failing to kill him. So he yells again]
Oh really?! How can you be free if you can't think beyond your impulses?! You're just a slave to your own--
[but he gets cut off by the floor beneath them BREAKING. He loses his footing, getting knocked down the mountain. His wings flap out, trying to catch him, but without knowing how to fly the most they can do is slow the fall as he starts to fall with the avalanche.
He yells out, trying to reach for something out of instinct. This is it, he thinks. He should be relieved, but yet he's still filled with terror that makes him scream as he falls]
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perhaps it was the shock of the entire cliffside cracking under the weight of his fury that keeps the dragon at a standstill. he doesn’t move the way he should, he doesn’t flee— he only watches the sound of fissuring rock grow louder and louder up the peak, following the lines until they release the stone sliding.
one slab breaks apart into many on the first impact they take, and it’s too late for the dragon to spread his wings and fly. it’s what he does, a tremendous wingspan that tripled his size. the rocks, of course, hit them, some sharp and tearing the membranes that kept him aloft in the air, other bludgeoning his bones. they’re all coming too fast and too have, with his legs losing footing and unable to help in preserving the ground under them that was once a surface. it gives away, and they fall.
the dragon cries out, taking most, of not the extreme bulk of damage without even meaning to. he hated this boy, but there was something that still bled in his heart, in his core, if he were to open his eyes and find him dead. it would mean everything was in vain, that the boy got what his brainwashed mind wanted, and what’s worse— got eren to do it for him.
and one quick look into the terror in his eyes showed full well what the dragon had suspected: he didn’t truly want to die. he couldn’t suffer another blow like this to his pride, and his honor that still lives. he couldn’t.
the dragon reaches out with his tattered wing hook and wraps it over whatever he could see of the boy, pulling his wing to his chest— and from there, he can’t remember the rest. a boulder hits his skull, the protective plates from his horns too underdeveloped to give him strong enough protection to stay awake. once they hit the ground and dust disperses—
the dragon is half covered in stone, hurt and passed out in a pile of debris. at least the boy was safer than he was.
has he mentioned? he hated this boy. ]
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But then, he's denied that as the dragon grabs him with his wing and shields him from the debris, even while taking most of the hits himself.]
W-What're you-
[He is confused and surprised by the move. Why? Why was this dragon saving him? He already destroyed everything meager thing the boy had in his life, had insured he'd die no matter what - why did he insist on saving him?! On keeping him alive?! Was this some twisted torture game?
It's not like the dragon could answer though. Since as they land on the ground, it's very clear that the dragon has passed out even with him still wrapped up in the wing. The boy has another fit of coughing from the dust that the avalanche kicked up, but for the most part, he's okay besides damaged wings.]
This day keeps getting worse and worse...
[With nothing else to do, he starts climbing and wiggling out of that wing hold he was in, moving slowly until he finally pries himself free. Stumbling out onto the ground, he glances back to see yep- that sure is a unconscious and half covered dragon. It looked like it was still breathing...which, he wasn't sure how to feel about that. There's a moment where he feels bad, before he reminds himself that this dragon brought this on himself.]
Not that he'd ever admit it, toddlers are more mature. [He mutters to himself with a huff. He looks away from the dragon, trying to get an idea of where they landed. It looked like the start of the forest, at the foot of the mountains. He was more familiar with the part of the forest that laid close to his village, but...
Just as he started wondering what he was supposed to do? His wrist starts erupts into a sharp burning pain. He winces, making a surprised pain sound. He looks at his wrist, and stares wide eye as a tattoo starts to form ]
- W-What?
[Is this...? No way. No flipping way]
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for now, his breaths are short, silent and uneven. his jaws remain slightly agape and his tongue rolls out lifelessly, hanging between his teeth and— lo and behold, if the boy were to look . . . the same mark burns into the middle of his pointed tongue.
the dragon’s left wing if folded, injured but doable. now his right . . . his right was in an unnatural angle, a stone crushing it against more debris. he doesn’t know what’s going on, and the first thing to show signs of movement is his third eyelid, sliding open and revealing to eren a world that refuses to stand still.
he only groans, and for now stays still, half-conscious and only afterwards beginning to stir under the mess he’s caught in. he might’ve . . . seen the boy? upside down? his head hurts and he can’t feel his claws.
you know, a part of him even has to ask himself again: just what did you think you were doing?
maybe he needed to dream, but he fights his body’s growing urge to slip away, regardless. he grunts, and his claws twitch— but soon enough he’s out like a light again. (the tongue, though, keeps moving around more. it burns). ]
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But why...why was it showing up now? Of all places, with all things?
When the dragon moves, the boy's attention immediately goes to it- wondering if the foul beast would wake. And while he's looking he catches sight of his tongue- a tongue that now had the same mark that was growing on his wrist.]
What? What...curse is this?
[His soulmate was this wretched dragon? This monster? This...this was even worse than never finding your soulmate.
He's tempted to yell at the dragon more, to demand what draconic magic he's cast on him to cause this- but the dragon yet again passes out again. it only really registers then that the dragon is badly hurt from the fall.
A few moments ago, he might've been tempted to leave the dragon to succumb to his wounds, but...he glances at the mark on his wrist. If this was a true soulmate mark, then the dragon dying would probably cost him his hand. Which would only make his chances of finding a quick way to die even worse.
...Ugh.
He hates this, but he takes a deep breath and approaches the dragon. Reaching out, he'll put his hand on the scales of the dragon. Concentrating what magic he had, he starts singing- though weakly since his voice was still hoarse.
As he sings, there's a glowing light, and slowly, the magic starts to take effect. The dragon's injuries start to heal up, slowly but surely. Likely he doesn't have enough power to heal an entire dragon in one go, but it was a start. ]
(1/2)
there was something he’d keep dreaming about. some other dragon-like beast, defeating the heedless until he could no longer use his tattered wings or walk on his broken bones and shattered horns. he could hardly move. he was bleeding, but there was always a little bundle of something tucked away under his wing. he couldn’t move, but his heart pounded like a warrior’s, with resolve to live and fight for the bundle like he would his very own freedom.
the little bundle was his freedom.
the mark speaks to eren, but he doesn’t know what it means. in all honesty, the next time he opens his eyes— he hardly remembers what it was that he dreamt of. he just— aches, his wing aches. the headache and superficial bruises underneath scales that took more bludgeoning damage are healed. he was. he was strong enough to take it, obviously (he’s still mildly flabbergasted that he did). the first thing that comes to mind, though, in a jolt, is to look under the left, curled wing.
he dreamed there was something . . . important . . . there. ]
(2/2)
he cries out terribly, snapping his neck back to the perpetrator: boulders crushing his right wing into that grotesque angle, and in the shock . . . reacting like any trapped, oversized animal would.
it’s not a good idea, all this moving around and screaming. but he’s trapped, his tongue burns (nothing ever burns on him, he doesn’t even know the feeling other than this is really weird and uncomfortable), he feels like he’s lost something still riding out the emotions of a dream, and he’s alone, or so he thinks.
he’s freaking out. ]
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This...this was not a good situation to be in, every way the boy looked at it, it was bad. Just what did he do to deserve all this?
But before he can get too deep into his despairing thoughts, the dragon starts freaking out. Great. this again.
the boy quickly stands up and tries to approach him. ]
H-Hey, calm down! You'll bring the mountain down on us again!
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