The Turquoise Cure (Eren X Reader)

Chapter 37: Who Am I?

   ya'll a'int ready for this one

    You coughed, the dust clouding your lungs burning as you spluttered through the crumbling rock and to the outside. "Guys?" you heard Armin's voice quavering. "Armin?" Mikasa shouted, waving her arms through the haze of dirt and smoke of the crumbling church as she approached him. Historia let go of you, the grip of her nails on your shoulders an encouragement to no longer feel. "Thanks," she said, stalking away to the outskirts of the church. "Where is she going?" Levi asked, hurrying after her. You looked over to where Eren was still unconscious, stirring slightly as Armin felt his pulse. Not wanting to be there when he awakened, you dashed after Levi and History. 

    "Oh my fucking god." The titan that Historia said was Rod Reiss was eve more massive than it had been in the cavern, at least twice as tall as the colossus titan, but scrunched up on its arms and legs, crawling like a massive, burning insect. Historia stared in awe and disgust as Levi clenched and unclenched his fists, lost in contemplation. "Commander Erwin!" you heard Connie call out. "Erwin?" Levi gasped, pulling himself from his thoughts and turning the corner of the church, leaving you and Historia alone. "Do you think Eren will be okay?" she asked, still staring after Rod Reiss's titan. "I hope," you said, fiddling with your scabbed fingernails, "but the only one who gets to decide that is him." She looked at you for a moment in the darkness, confusion and curiosity glimmering on her face. "I like your haircut," she said before turning back to where the rest of the group was, "it suits you." 

    When you returned to the group, you saw that Eren was mostly conscious and talking to Mikasa, who was hovering over him while Armin struggled to remove his cloak from his shoulders to conceal Eren's torso. "Here," you said, shimmying out of your jacket and wrapping it around Eren's shoulders. "It'll be a little tight," you said, not making eye contact. "(Y/N)," Eren mumbled, his voice airy and weak as he tried to sit up. Levi was still in deep conversation with Erwin, Hange being cared for by Moblit as she lay on her back, blood still oozing from her face. "Hey," you said, taking Armin's place as he stood up to give you more room. "It- it's all-m-my fault..." he stammered, tears leaking out of his huge eyes again. "Nobody died," you said, harder than you meant to, "and we got you and Historia back, so there's no harm done." "Why won't you look at me?" Eren pleaded, sitting up straight, his spin poking out against the thin cloth of the jacket. "Because something is wrong with me," you sputtered out before you had even thought of an answer. Is that what it is? It's not him; there's something wrong with me? 

    "What do you mean?" he asked, Mikasa still supporting him as he stared at you. "I-" your vision was waning, and you felt shaky and dizzy. "(Y/N)?" Mikasa asked, but before you could answer, you were on the ground, knocked out cold by your own thoughts. 

    You were in the graveyard again, vines tying you down to a cold gravestone, the thorns digging into your arms and legs, your body bare except for the vines encasing you. Why this again? An earsplitting scream sounded in your ears, drowning out every coherent thought that you had possibly had. You bit hard on your bottom lip, your eyes wavering, dizziness overtaking your shaking body. "STOP! PLEASE STOP!" you shouted, your chest heaving, cuts ripping open from the thorns digging at you. 

    All at once, the screaming ceased. The creator of the screams stalked out from behind the gravestone, his face graying and decayed, scabs and sores covering his body. "Eren," you whispered, your stomach contracting with the smell of the decay and filth of his body. "Why is it..." he began, his voice higher than in life, yet more throaty and hoarse in death, "that you care only about yourself?" Your breathing faltered for a moment as if the entire world had stopped, but you still needed air. It seemed to come back, for you gasped, sucking in air as though it could disappear in a second as he smiled. "I care about-" "About who?" a female voice rang out. "STOP, PLEASE!" you screamed, crying out in a manner that you never thought could come from you. "Why?" Annie asked, as dead-looking as Eren, yet her sinister swaying of her hips ever personified. "Why is this happening now?" you asked, feeling like you could pass out an any moment. How many weeks has it been since I've had an episode? Why now? "Because it was long coming." "Not you," you begged, squeezing your eyes shut. Levi's light footsteps sounded on the cold, hard ground as he trudged over to you. The smell was sickening, and your chest was heaving s rapidly that you prayed you would collapse, you prayed that you would just die, so that you wouldn't have to endure this anymore. "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?" you screamed out into the cold graveyard, your shouts echoing and bouncing off the stones. 

    "Because you're special," your mother said. You opened your eyes, your mother standing before you as she had in life: emaciated, gray-colored, with stringy, greasy hair, but still standing. "Wh-what's special about me?" you asked, panicking as she edged closer. "There's nothing special about me!" You felt the thorns remove themselves from you skin, the vines dying away, as you stood in front of the gravestone in nothing but your own skin. She was now inches away from you, not dead, but not alive either, her glassy eyes peering into your shaking ones. "Because you're your daddy's daughter." You stared at her, a sinister smile creeping across her face. "Mom," you whispered, "what do you mean?" your breath catching in your throat. "He's dead." She erupted into such a ferocious and psychotic laughter that you flinched, pushing yourself closer against the gravestone. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" you shouted, blood streaming from your nose as your panic increased. "Oh, sweetie," she crooned, "maybe biologically..." She kept laughing. "But that wasn't your 'daddy.'" She stuck out her arm so that it linked around the gravestone that you stood, frozen, against. "This is." 

    "You." you whispered, bile sneaking up your throat. 

    "Me." Grisha Jaeger stepped out from behind the grave. 

Author's Note

honestly wtf is wrong with me; why did I think this was a good idea. I might just delete this idgaf