[ that sounds familiar. two sides fighting for the same damn coin constantly. a grudge that fueled a man to his death— eren knew nothing but hate as he grew. kill the titans. kill all of them. kill the traitors, all through his bared teeth and never ending sense of rage. it all had to go somewhere. until the monsters weren't monsters. until his world crumbled four, nearly five years ago. he was neither side. he was broken and torn, but he still would win at an ugly price. his brother would be like crow. fighting for something all their lives, before it being taken away from them. they'd only be served as tools, victims to their habitats, and their own minds.

eren could've been that person, too. he can sympathize with it. he can see the burn that drove him and the heat that killed him, yet he's never met this friend in his life. ]

Someone once told my father, [ he inhales, ] love someone. Hate only led to the same history. The same mistakes. [ again and again. ] Even for me.

[ he admits that. hate carried him before, and there was no way he could say there weren't times he's been pissed the fuck off by assholes who think they're something or other. but he doesn't hate, he couldn't bring himself to when they were all equal. the same. victim. even if it bled from his lips and made who had been his sister, break apart in front of him. ]

How would you tell him?