bury your doubts and fall asleep

[singmod]

SEPTEMBER 2025 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: ENOLA’S VISIT : Rather than visiting in dreams, Enola appears to the Interlopers with a warning, and another offering of help.

PROMPT TWO — THE AURORA: KICKBACK Following Enola’s visit and the dream where Interlopers can gain a new ability, the Darkwalker bites back.

PROMPT THREE — AS THE DEAD SLEEP: In the dying world of the Quiet Apocalypse, Interlopers are driven to lay a part of themselves to rest.

PROMPT FOUR — SIGNAL VOID: The radios fixed up by Marra and given to Interlopers lead to unexpected finds in the Northern Territories.

THE AURORA: ENOLA'S VISIT

WHEN: September 21st.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potentially disturbing dreams; dreams involving animal death; dreams involving fire/being burned alive.

In the late afternoon, when the sky is still light, you hear the telltale signs of an Aurora. The endless hum, punctuated by cracks that echo across the air. There’s the strange ethereal shrill sounds made by no instrument known to man, faint at first but growing louder. As you look towards the skies, you can see the faint swirl of colours in the daylight. The electricity of the world comes to life, flickering and sparking erratically.

As the day shifts into evening and the skies darken, those colours in the sky begin to brighten: purples, pinks, red, greens and yellows — an abstract painting of colour and light that paints the sky brighter than any day, so bright the stars look like ghosts. The Aurora has come, and Interlopers settle in for a long night of noise and light.

Whenever you find yourself alone, she will come to you. You might be out in town, you might be sat in your cabin by the fire. You are alone and in a blink, she’s standing with you: a woman dressed in furs, one side of her face blackened and withered, the eye missing. Her remaining blue eye is bloodshot and exhausted. Her hands are caked in blood, old and new. She is dishevelled. Enola has seen better days, but she stands proud as she stares at you.

If you have spoken to, or seen Enola before — she greets you warmly like an old friend. If this is your first time seeing or speaking with Enola, she introduces herself: My name is Enola, I’m one of you. I’m here to help.

“Time is running out.” she tells you. “Things are changing. You’ve probably seen it, felt it. How the wildlife shifts, how the winters never end, how the world trembles.”

While prevalent long before Interlopers ever came to the Northern Territories, the seismic activity in the world has been a staple in recent times.

“Caged animals grow restless.” She’ll take a moment to walk around you, looking around with interest: examining homes of their contents, or taking a moment to appreciate the lush green trees. She takes genuine enjoyment out of it, smiling softly.

“I can still help.” she says suddenly, looking up at you. “I’ve seen you use your gifts well, learn how to control them. You learn so quickly. But more of you keep arriving, and this world keeps growing colder and crueller.”

She looks above you, or towards a window if you’re outside. She is silent for a long time.

“It was never supposed to be like this.” her voice is soft, sad. You notice there are tears in her eyes.

“Sleep, and it will come to you. If you choose for it.”

In an instant, she is gone. But when you go to sleep that night, a dream may come to you.

MOON TOUCHED: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of running through the silent woods at night. The moon is full above you, the air is calm and still. Hunger draws you forward, everything is so sharp and vivid in your senses, even in this dreamscape. You hear the crispness of the snow beneath your feet, smell the scent of the pines on the air, feel how warm you are against the coldness around you.

The snuffling of a rabbit catches your attention, and you swiftly leap after it, jaws opening and closing around its neck as you capture it. You bite down hard, feeling the crunch of its bones as they break, the sweet coppery taste of blood filling your mouth and nose. You lift your head towards the stars, blood on your tongue. You realise you are not a person at all, but a beast on all fours: a wolf, content and filling your belly with meat.

You wonder, for a brief moment: were you ever a person at all?

You do not know the answer to the question. You do not seem to worry about such a thing but there’s a flash of warning on the air. Something you cannot quite place, but you know that you should not forget it.

When you awaken, you feel… different, somehow. Everything seems a little sharper, as if the world around you had been dull, or behind some pane of frosted glass. With it comes a strange balance of calmness and chaos, tameness and wildness, fear and bravery. You find yourself looking for the moon in the skies and when you finally find it, it hits you — this is what it means to be Moon Touched.

LIGHT BRINGER: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of sitting by a lonely campfire in the mouth of a cave at night, warming your hands. As you sit, a strange feeling comes over you, a desire to reach out to the flames. And so you do, reaching with both hands into the fire — gripping at the white-hot embers. It burns you, and for a moment there is blinding hot pain as the fire suddenly explodes around you, consuming you whole. But the pain soon stops. The fire doesn’t burn you. No, you have become the blaze — your body warmed. You burn bright enough that the darkness around you turns into day.

When you awaken the next morning, you feel warmed and comfortable. As if even the coldest of winters couldn’t reach your bones. The warmth remains even when the Aurora ends, and you are left with the innate understanding:you are the Lightbringer. The power of flame is at your very fingertips. You master the light, life, warmth.

AURORA CALL: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream you are standing in the very sky itself, at the Aurora’s height. Colour and sound twirls around you, within you — and you feel it curl into your body. Your head fills with noise, a chorus of voices calling out, snippets of conversation echoing within you. Enola’s voice calls to you: “Don’t you understand it now? We are all connected. The Aurora connects us.”

And you do, you do understand it.

When you awaken, you feel connected to the world around you. To the very people who live amongst you. You feel less lonely, a kind of kinship with others. You have heard the Aurora’s Call and you have answered it, unlocked a connection with your fellow Interlopers. You will be heard.

NOTHING: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape, but only for a moment. The edges of your vision begin the blur with black, slowly closing in until everything goes dark and you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. You awaken, and although you feel rested, as if the dreamless darkness has helped you feel a little more ready to take on the day — nothing else about you has changed.

THE AURORA: KICKBACK

WHEN: September 22nd.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of violence; supernatural weather/altered environments; altered mental states; mental manipulation; themes of violence; potential character injury; potential character death; potential NPC death.

When you awaken the next morning, the sky is impossibly dark. There is no daylight, there is only endless night. No moon, no stars, no sun. The sky is empty. A void. Just the darkness and the green gloom — the telltale sign of what is to come: the Darkwalker.

You awaken and the cold fear washes over you; a vice-like grip on your throat, squeezing, choking. The air is heavy, oppressive: fear, anxiety, anger. The day is eerily still, and even as you try to go about your day — you know something is coming, your instincts tell you as much.

And you’re right: the ancient, impossible voice finally crawls into your ear.

“The First is desperate.” the Darkwalker sneers.”Look at how she tries to protect her precious brethren. Arms you for a world that you were never meant to be in: the interloper in nature’s design.”

The earth shudders beneath you, things begin to shake and tremble around you.

“I am not some weak, powerless thing.” The Darkwalker tells you. “Even if I am bound, I am inevitable and so very hungry. The table is laid, and I will have my fill — as it is meant to be.”

The Darkwalker howls: indescribable, unnatural, demonic — breaking off into dark laughter. The earth shudders again.

“I will break you down from within, and if I cannot — I will break you down by one another’s hands once more. I am the Rot within you.”

Above you, white-hot green lightning streaks across the skies like cracks — impossibly bright. Something shifts within you, a growing tension. The anger within you builds. A familiar sensation for some: a bitter gnawing within you. The nightmarish green gloom above you persists and everything bubbles up from within.

It is not the first time the Darkwalker has done this. Many remember only too well the Summer Solstice of last year. By now, many wear talismans crafted to ward off the Darkwalker’s influence. But not everyone, and the Darkwalker’s influence is stronger now. From the dark, the anger within you becomes too much. The tension finally snaps with another crackle of lighting across the skies — and in the flash of it for a brief moment: the giant three-headed wolf skull, eyes glowing sickly green.

Another night of violence is upon the Interlopers: a vicious argument where you air your grievances, or finally let slip the things you’ve been holding close to your chest. A verbal beat down, incredibly hurtful in nature. For others, things may be drawn to getting physical. A literal beat down where your fists grow bruised and bloody, or perhaps even worse. Whatever it is, you want to do damage to someone else — there is darkness here, and so many things come out in the dark, don’t they?

Chaos erupts once more.

But there is noise above you this time, a furious unseen battle. The skies are not just empty and green, but a furious blaze of light of the Aurora streaks across the skies. Enola is grasping for control, and there are sounds of pain — as she tries to end the madness.

“Leave them be, Devourer.” Enola’s voice booms across the air like the cracking of ice of a frozen lake.

As Interlopers fall to chaos and madness with fists, weapons and words: Enola and the Darkwalker battle against one another. The skies flash violently with green streaks of lightning and the sharp colours of the Aurora: a frightening sight and it’s almost impossible to truly describe the sights before you — should you have a moment to look up.

Hide, or fight. Survive.

The night is long. The fight above you goes on for hours, and ends with a tearing of the skies and the world snaps to normal. You hear a gasp of pain from Enola, then nothing. The air is silent and clear above, but blood may have already been spilled below.

AS THE DEAD SLEEP

WHEN: The month of September.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mental manipulation; themes of loss; themes of grief; themes of death; themes of catharsis.

In the Quiet Apocalypse, it is easy to see the world sitting on the long road of the End of Things. Everything must end, that is part of nature. All things begin and all things end. So many Interlopers have been ripped from their worlds, often in the midst of crisis, trouble or change. And with it comes a pause, something left unfinished. The end has not been completed.

It is a notion that greets you when you awaken one morning. A compulsion. An itch. One might try to press it down, ignore it as much as you can. But the longer it is ignored, the more the feeling becomes. You go about your business and the feeling grows: a blooming sensation in your chest and the innate understanding: all things must end. It is a desperate, lonely feeling.

Perhaps it is not the end of you, but the end of something else. A life, a friendship, a loved one. Perhaps something left unsaid, something left undone. Whatever it is, you find yourself thinking of it constantly, even when you particularly don’t want to. It feels… wrong, to leave such a thing unfinished. To keep putting such a thing off feels unnatural. And that feeling inside of you comes almost too much to bear.

Whatever it is, you must put it to rest.

For Interlopers, a different destination will come to them. They may wish to go out into the wilds. Others may wish to go to the Church in Milton, or at Silverpoint. Some may wish to travel to the edge of the ravine, or even to some part of Lakeside. Some may wish to stand on the edges of the ice upon the seas at the Coast. Whatever or wherever they feel they need to get to — a distance will need to be covered, to find somewhere quiet and alone. They will prepare themselves for the journey and leave to go on to put something, whatever it may be, to rest. To say goodbye.

And so you walk, through the snow and wind, your thoughts occupied. You must say goodbye, you must bury something, you must finish what needs to be finished. But… other thoughts mingle within your own. You cannot recall where they come from, but they feel like yours, somehow. Like something deep down within your spirit, pooling out from it and drifting into your mind. Soft prayers, hushed apologies — even if the words are not your own, they have never felt truer. They weigh upon you, so heavy despite their softness:

… The night was so bright, too bright to count the stars. We forgot about them. … And yet it was a bitter and empty place. Did you truly know, somehow?

Did who know? Did they know what? There are so many questions, but you cannot seem to find the answers to them. It is a quiet agony. There are more thoughts:


… I could not go. I would not. Why couldn't you hold out? Why couldn't I let go?

Who’s thoughts are these? Even if they are not your own, they seem to make sense, somehow. Perhaps you piece things together, make them your own thoughts. Perhaps there was something you could not let go of. Perhaps there was someone who could not hold on. Perhaps there you were stubborn, too stubborn.

… The world falling away. The lights, they used to go on. Please forgive me.

The final words linger within you as you finally come to a stop. Here. This is where you must stop. Here you will lay it to rest. Your hands reach for the snow, fingers clawing into the frozen white. Perhaps you wish to lay it beneath the ice. You prepare. Perhaps it is an item you bury, some small token that represents what it is you wish to finish. Perhaps you are drawn to write something down: a name, a secret, an apology. Or perhaps you simply wish to make some kind of symbolic grave: decorated with stones and even crafting some kind of marker for it.

You will not stop until it is done, even if the day grows darker and colder. You will work until you have finished it. If others have come with you, you will feel compelled to unburden yourself of this loss, this thing you must finally put to bed. You do not have to be alone in saying goodbye.

And when it is done, you feel lighter, somehow. Forgiven, perhaps. As if the very thing that has weighed down so terribly upon you has lessened, eased. Things feel right once more.

As the dead sleep, you are here and alive — for now.

SIGNAL VOID

WHEN: Aurora nights; the month of September, onwards.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival/exploration; potentially dangerous situations; altered wildlife; wild animal attacks; potential character injuries; potential maiming; potential character death.

In July, Interlopers who tackled the Cannery and fought against the Timberwolves that had made their home there managed to recover some shortwave radios. These radios were given to Marra, who has managed to get these devices working again despite the Aurora’s effects on electronics.

No one can say for sure how Marra has managed to do this, much like how she manages to ensure the lighthouse works at all times. Even her own answers have proved insufficient, but she cannot even explain it herself: for some reason I can keep this place going. I'm in here and the light still shines, and I don't know why.

Having been returned to Interlopers via Molly at the Frozen Angler, Interlopers across the Northern Territories will have access to these tools. While not enough for everyone to have one each, Interlopers will need to share the radios as they navigate the world. The radios don’t work like regular walkie-talkies, but will work by using them to send morse code messages — like how telegrams work. But in the month of September, during Aurora nights, these radios start picking up strange signals.

The signal seems to appear on the radios like some kind of radar, with the screen lighting up and flashing, and a beeping sound emitting from the radio. Following the flashing and beeping on the radios, Interlopers will find that they are being led to something — with the lights and sounds increasing in frequency and intensity the closer they get.

The signals will lead Interlopers to bunkers, buried in the snow. Interlopers will need to dig through the snow to reach the door, and the doors themselves will be heavy and difficult to open. Inside, Interlopers will find a shelter that has been carved into the earth, and modest caches of stocks that have been lost to time: food, water, medical supplies, tools, books, weapons. It looks as if these bunkers were created as places of protection in the event of some kind of nuclear war, or some kind of apocalypse prepper — clearly a great deal of work has gone into crafting these places.

However there are certain dangers when it comes to traversing the world during the Aurora. Wildlife tends to become more volatile during these nights, and will actively seek out Interlopers who are out in the wilds following the signals on their radios. Packs of wolves, solitary wolves or even bears and wild cats can be found stalking after Interlopers who may be out.

The threat of these predators is high, and they will actively attack Interlopers. But it’s worth the risk of more supplies: the endless night is on the way as the daylight hours grow thin and bitter winter draws in.

But it is not just these bunkers that the radios reveal: in addition, another signal is being broadcast. One that may be familiar to some Interlopers. A broken message from last year, recorded in the diary of a firewatcher:

- .... .. ... / .. ... / --- .--. . .-. .- - .. ...- . / -... . .- .-. --- .- -.- .-.-.- / .--. .-. --- .--- . -.-. - / .-- .. -. - . .-. -- ..- - . / -.. --- .-- -. .-.-.- / -.. .- -. --. . .-. ---... / .- ..- .-. --- .-. .- / .. -. ... - .- -... .. .-.. .. - -.-- .-.-.- / -.-. --- -- . / .- - / --- -. -.-. . .-.-.-

FAQs

THE AURORA: ENOLA'S VISIT

1. Aurora Feats are unlocked! For this round, RNG picked Lightbringer, Moon Touched and Aurora Call.

2. Please see the following page for more information. Aurora Feats are completely optional.

3. Interlopers will only receive ONE Aurora Event. The only time this is available is this month. After September, players will have to wait for the next Feat round for another chance at an Aurora Feat.

THE AURORA: KICKBACK

1. Characters are free to use this event to kill NPC Interlopers. Other NPCs, especially named ones (ie. Methuselah, Molly, Marra, etc.), are off the table, as are two marked NPC Interlopers. Please let Mods know if you intend on doing this for record keeping!

2. These acts of violence can be physical or verbal altercations, players are encouraged to work with the prompt however they'd like! However, anything potentially world-altering (ie. building destruction) must be first discussed with mods.

3. Interlopers under the Darkwalker's influence can be stopped in a number of ways. Showing genuine care and compassion in the face of violence is one way, saving them with the power of love/friendship. Knocking an Interloper out is another way. Sometimes killing an Interloper may be needed, or simply restraining them and keeping them locked up somewhere so they can't hurt anyone else until the night is over would also work.

4. Interlopers with the Darkwalker's Revenge Feat will be incredibly energised by the Darkwalker's influence on the world and feel at their physical peak. They will also be more susceptible to the Darkwalker's influence to be violent, meaning it will take extra work to break them out from the Darkwalker's hold.

5. Interlopers with warding talismans anointed with Interloper blood will be the least susceptible to the Darkwalker's influence to be violent, but can still be influenced eventually as the night goes on — especially if they have any grudges or interpersonal issues going on.

6. Interlopers who have natural penchants for violence or darker impulses will also be more susceptible to the Darkwalker's influence.

AS THE DEAD SLEEP

1. Items don't have to just be buried, they could also be burned, or sunk into a body of water.

2. It doesn't have to be a specific item, but could be something symbolic of the thing that the Interloper wants to 'put to rest'.

SIGNAL VOID

1. There are six bunkers in the world to be found. Two in the Milton region, two in the Lakeside region, and two in The Coast region.

2. The morse code message cannot be replied to as of yet.

3. The firewatcher refers to the Diary of Sam Bouchard, which can be read here.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[dreamsofwings]

Eren still doesn't answer, at least not directly. He's meandering towards an answer in his head. Eren still does most things on his own time, his own agenda, even when it's not clear what that is.

He turns his head away from the shallow hole and looks at Reiner — or looks through him, maybe, green eyes distant. He's so often seeing something else, existing in other places and times all at once. Tonight is no different. No. Tonight is worse than usual.

"Do you know how it ends?" he asks in lieu of answering a question. "Not this place. This place doesn't matter. But at home. What's the end, Reiner? The only answer?"

[nohero]

Eren finally looks at him. No, looks through him, green eyes distant in a way that makes Reiner's skin crawl. He knows that look, sees it often enough when watching Eren watching the world. But to have it directed at him is…

It doesn't hurt, exactly. But it isn't pleasant. Stirs feelings that Reiner isn't sure how to name. Makes him want to move closer. To grab Eren's shoulders and demand his full attention.

(Because Eren's attention is addictive. The full force of it sweeping over him, ripping him away from everything else. It always has been. Probably always will be.)

Reiner's jaw flexes again, teeth gritting as he restrains himself from marching over and making those eyes focus on him.

"I know what you think the answer is," he says. How could he not? The Rumbling made it clear enough. "I saw enough of it."

[dreamsofwings]

Eren finally narrows his focus. He blinks a few times. His eyes never leave Reiner's face, but he's finally looking at him. His blankness shifts towards anger, but that's just Eren.

"It's already done, Reiner," he says. "It was the only answer."

Is he going to quantify that? Of course not. He knows how it sounds. He knows how awful it is, how awful it makes him. There is nothing redeemable about him. He accepted that long ago. This place has not changed him, made him better, made him less than a monster. Physically he is restricted to being just a boy, but that has never been all he is.

"How does the Rumbling end?" he asks instead. There are only two answers to this question. But he doesn't bother letting Reiner answer him. "How does being a titan end?"

He lets that hang for a moment, then looks back down at the grave.

"I just needed to let go of something," he says. The scarf is symbolic, sure, but the grave is still his grave. Eren has never wanted to die. He just has to let go of the idea that he wants to live. Right?

[nohero]

Anger is better than nothing. Better than blankness. Better than Eren looking through him, as if Reiner isn't even there. As if he's just another face in the crowd—or, worse, an undeserving obstacle in Eren's way. Those eyes focus, and Reiner relishes it.

How does the Rumbling end? Eren asks. To Reiner, the answer is obvious: it ends in death. Whose death, specifically, he doesn't know. He hasn't lived those moments; he was plucked here from the midst of them, fighting for his life and the lives of the few who remained.

So few remained. Eren's vengeance overtook the world, and Reiner… Even as a Titan, he felt so small.

As for the second question? Well, Reiner knows the answer to that as well: death, again. He's known how being a Titan ends since he was a child. It's what brought him here—the knowledge that they're one year closer to their ends.

When Eren breaks eye contact to look down at the grave, Reiner automatically steps closer. Maybe he wants those eyes back on him. Maybe he wants to see what Eren sees, to understand what Eren is trying to say. Because if anyone could understand, Reiner knows it's him.

He glances at the grave as well. Eren's name. A neat hole. A red scarf.

Confusion crosses his features. Wordlessly, he instinctively reaches out, seeking to grasp Eren's arm. To get his attention; to get more answers.

[dreamsofwings]

Eren hasn't technically lived that ending (or…you know), either. He just knows it. If the whole world ends, then…it ends and nothing matters anyway. He'll never stop, after all, even if he can't figure out the why. He told Armin as much. Some of this has never made sense, but what else was there? No one should have what Eren has, so much power, so many memories, too many possibilities he's rejected or failed. No one could hold onto sanity entirely.

But the ending he wants for them is the final ending for him. They cannot live if he does. He cannot live if he wants them to live long lives. That's the ultimate reality for him. He has often wished otherwise. Eren has never wanted to die. He offered to, long ago in that cave with Historia. He accepts that death is the answer. He also hates it; he has always wanted to live more than anyone.

For a second, he tenses like he'll pull away. Instead, he lets Reiner pull him around so they're facing each other, the grave at his back. There's probably a metaphor there.

"You know how it ends," he says. "We can't both live."

And he's already told Reiner he won't let him die.

[nohero]

There's something thrilling in the way Eren allows himself to be maneuvered, pulled around until they're face-to-face. Maybe it's because of the tension Reiner feels at the beginning before Eren decides to allow it. Or maybe it's because Eren actually doing what Reiner wants is such a damn novelty, even now.

"So, what?" he asks, their faces close, gold eyes boring into green. "You get to decide who dies? Is that what this is, Eren? Are you deciding it's going to be you?"

It would be for the best if it was. For everyone. For the world.

But would it be for the best for Reiner?

Would he not find himself in another basement someday, a rifle in his hands, visions of Eren once again haunting him?

His grip tightens fractionally, emotions swimming through his eyes. "I didn't agree to that."

[dreamsofwings]

Eren raises an eyebrow.

"Haven't I always decided who dies?" he asks, which is a shitty thing to say. It's not entirely true, but it's not entirely false, either.

There's a terrible weight in him, an answer to a question he once asked Reiner. Why did my mother die, Reiner? It's as much Eren's own fault as any, a thing that tears him up. He never meant for her to die. But he can no longer just blame the Warriors.

They were kids. That's all they had ever been then. It's not like Eren at that age knew the things that Eren here and now does.

He's not sure how to interpret that desperation on Reiner's face.

"It was always going to be me," he says, softer, less callous than before. "Do you think I want that? To die? I don't give a shit what you agreed to. You've been trying to stop me since before we met. You just didn't quite realise it."

[nohero]

Arrogant prick, Reiner thinks as Eren declares he has always decided who dies. Because Reiner knows that's not true. It wasn't Eren who decided Marco had to die. It wasn't Eren who unleashed Hell on Trost, or who cut through swaths of the Survey Corps.

It wasn't Eren who attacked Shiganshina.

"You're so damn arrogant," he growls, even as Eren's softer voice settles in his ears, stirring something within. "You should listen to yourself. You haven't always decided who lives and dies. You were a dumb kid, too."

They were all kids. Just stupid kids who didn't know what they were doing. They didn't know…

He shakes his head. "Don't talk about my mission like you know it. I've been chasing you my entire life. How could you understand?"

That's unfair; Eren may be the only one left who can understand.

He steps closer. Crowds in, unable to help himself. His voice drops. "If you don't wanna die, then what the hell is that behind you? You just dug your own grave."

[dreamsofwings]

"Yeah," he says, "we all were. I know." He knows as well as anyone. He hasn't — can't — forget the helplessness of being young. If only he'd known then. If only he'd been able to…

But no. He didn't know on purpose. He'd blocked those memories from himself. If he'd known too early, what could he have possibly done? There was never another solution than the one he arrived at.

"I know you, Reiner," he says. "I know why you did what you did. I told you, right? You and I, we're the same. We've always been the same."

That isn't really a compliment to either of them, but it's the truth as Eren sees it. The only person who is really capable of understanding what he's doing is Reiner. But they don't get to have that, not really. He left Reiner in the basement and let him come chase him back to the island. He left everyone there when the walls came down and he could not afford to look back, not in the regular world, and not in the Paths, and not here.

"It's just a grave," Eren says, lifting his chin the minute amount he needs to in order to keep their eyes locked. "I'll never have a real one. Most of us never will."

He's wrong about that, of course. He just assumes there won't be anything left to bury.

"I just…had to," he says, then, confusion passing over his face for a second. "I had to do this."

He can't explain it away, the why, the reasoning. For once, he doesn't even have a bullshit answer. The best he can do is I had to.

[nohero]

We've always been the same.

No, it's no compliment. It's a condemnation. A threat. A promise. A hand reaching out on a sunset-lit field, atop a Wall, in a basement. They have the same drive inside of them, the same awful love. But they also have the same monsters within.

Why did my mother die, Reiner?

Eren tilts his chin back to hold eye contact, inadvertently exposing more of his neck. It's not the vulnerable point it once was. At the same time, it's more vulnerable than ever. They can't heal here. Can't access the monsters roaring beneath their skin. They're just human. Just boys playing at being men.

Reiner is about to argue. It's not just a grave. It's more than that, and Eren knows it. But then Eren's stubborn expression changes, confusion coloring his features. Reiner watches, riveted. Waiting for the explanation that doesn't come.

"… You don't know," he says, and his voice is quieter. Almost gentle. "You have no idea what you're doing."

Isn't that true of both of them? Aren't they stumbling through this strange world together?

Reiner's free hand rises to Eren's waist, wrapping around it with all the certainty of a lover, palm splaying against his lower back. Then he leans down to press his lips to Eren's, silencing his own next words:

That's okay; I don't know, either.

[dreamsofwings]

Eren often forgets that they're human. That's been true for years now, but even in this place, he just sees his power as out of reach. Of course he's aware of the danger. There's a scar on his arm where Levi stitched him up that first month. There are little things, scrapes, bruises, chapped lips, that he hardly ever had since realising he was a titan shifter. Eventually, his titan powers were more reliable, and that did away with any little things.

The little things are more annoying to him than the big ones.

"I know exactly—" he starts. Even the start is a lie. Reiner is right; he has no fucking clue what he's doing, out here and in general. This world is a wasteland and he has no real direction in it. Even if he sees it as a dream, a breath, a diversion, he still doesn't know what to do with it.

But he never gets the whole lie out of his mouth.

Reiner's mouth is on his and it doesn't matter what he was going to say. He could shove away, sure, but he doesn't want to. It mattered, once, that they are — should be — were — enemies. That was before Eren accepted what Reiner had done. He isn't capable of forgiveness, but close enough. Since then, whatever he's felt for Reiner has been more complicated than he knows how to admit.

In this place, it's a lifeline. He doesn't know how to admit that either.

He does know how to give up and kiss back, licking into Reiner's mouth as soon as he's able. Eren is all take, as usual, half-frozen hands moving to clench in Reiner's coat, pulling them closer together.

[nohero]

Eren isn't the only one who feels directionless in this world. Who feels lost, stumbling through the wasteland with little more than half-cocked ideas and pure stubbornness. Sure, they've given themselves missions here. (Stock up on supplies; learn how to survive; reach the ocean; learn how to sail; get to the mainland; find a fucking escape.) But a sense of purpose? A sense of belonging? A sense of certainty?

Those, Reiner has only found in one place. In only one person.

Strings tied them together, once. Do those stings still exist? Or is the pull Reiner feels toward Eren something greater than that?

The Attack and Armored Titans. Two opposites, fated to clash. Two stars in an endless orbit. Two boys kissing each other beside a grave.

Why the hell did Eren have to dig a grave? Why did he have to look so confused, so lost, just for a moment? Why does he always, always get under Reiner's skin?

Half-frozen hands clutch at Reiner's coat, a hot tongue licking into his mouth. Reiner's lips part immediately, giving just as good as he gets. Giving all that Eren wants. (Is that even possible?) The hand on Eren's lower back pushes up beneath his shirt, Reiner's callused fingers drinking in the warmth of Eren's skin. Not Titan-hot as it should be—but that's another thing they share, isn't it? Another loss, another slight, another thing to rail against as they push ever-forward.

His free hand goes to Eren's cheek, caressing it almost tenderly. (He's lying to himself; there's no "almost" about it.) It's a sharp contrast to their kiss, as Reiner chooses that moment to add teeth.

[dreamsofwings]

Eren has thought about it before, how he and Reiner keep clashing together. It isn't always bad. Sometimes it's just passion (or whatever passes for that when you're Eren). Sometimes it's bittersweet, a reminder of what they are and are not, together and apart. There is a chasm of betrayal between them, from Reiner's part in the catastrophe that arguably started all this to Eren's attack on Liberio to Bert to the world that might not survive.

That all stopped them at home, but maybe that was circumstance. If they'd had more time or chance at it, maybe this was always inevitable. Even Eren doesn't know, isn't sure. Here and now, beside a grave he should have fallen into months ago, there's nothing else he can hold on to.

Death and Reiner, the inevitabilities that cling to Eren like burrs after walking through a field. Or maybe that's the other way around.

He makes a muffled sound against Reiner's mouth at the press of fingers — no longer smooth like they must have been before, no longer this side of too warm. He misses it, the perfection of their skin. Though he couldn't bruise then, and he can now. There's something that isn't really bad about that thought.

He starts a little at that brush of teeth, at odds with the softness of Reiner's touch on his face. He makes that noise again, needier this time, immediately warmer than he was. When Reiner lets up, he bites back, but it isn't a warning or a retaliation. Like half of what he does, it's a demand. For what, who knows? His own hands stay where they are for a little longer, clenched in Reiner's coat, before he finds a zipper to undo and shoves his (too cold) hands in there, instead. This isn't skin on skin yet, but it's a layer closer.

[nohero]

It's hard for Reiner to say whether or not he believes in inevitabilities. Too many things he thought were inevitable have gone to ruin, too many plans and hopes and dreams crushed to rubble. At the center of it is always Eren. Does that make Eren himself inevitable? Maybe. Or maybe the only inevitable thing is the chase, the hunt, the unbreakable blood-soaked bond that exists between them. That bond that will exist long after they're dead and gone, its consequences stretching worldwide.

But they're not dead yet. Despite the dangers here and their lack of healing, the ticking clocks and the open grave, they're not dead yet. Pressed close and kissing with open mouths and demanding teeth, Reiner feels more alive than he has in… Well. Since the last time he and Eren collided like this.

It's always a collision with them, isn't it?

Too-cold hands slide beneath his coat. Reiner hisses, shivering.

"Dammit," he breathes out when he has room to breathe, which isn't much and isn't for long. "Dammit, Eren."

Is he cursing at the cold? The grave? The world that conspired to keep them apart? Or is it because if he doesn't curse, he's afraid of what else he might say?

He tears his hands away from Eren just long enough to shuck off his coat, letting it fall into the grave on top of Mikasa's scarf. Two artifacts from Paradis.