[ those who have become a little more dear to eren are the first ones he checks up on immediately after his bond had so mysteriously evaporated from his sights and feeling. all possible paths of fading scents and tastes where reachable one minute, and nonexistent the next. it had been no different when an exasperated and furious pooh could not find his queen. neither could eren, after the same scented tastes around her apartment and into the city only drove him to dead ends.
pain would twist in his gut, but not necessarily from lex’s torment— it would yank at his chest and pull at his heart, dig as deep as his talons would into thick flesh and disregard. this feeling was one he couldn’t bare, and that had been the possibility of loss. even with her gifted poncho, worn enough to keep the aroma of her nape, where eren can practically see her golden locks fall and pink lips spread in a smile that made his belly as warm as his flame— he couldn’t find her. every empasse dug a deeper pit, he feels, like realizing just how much his adoration had grown, how dangerous it had become, and how he could absolutely care less for that one fact.
it was what it was. danaerys has made her way into a passionate heart that can become an icy storm at any moment’s notice. of course, there were so many things involved, where eren was unable to neglect certain regulations, and carefully sidesteps them to keep his own underlying goals and interests intact. there was a way to make it all align, there was— he just had to remain calm, as the years of his experience and lives of his brethren have taught them. it makes his blood boil underneath a mask of apathy, even when he could accurately pinpoint the reason why this was being done— he doesn’t condemn them, when he’s done it himself.
he does, though, feel an intricate web of emotion that, as a human and dragon, was a challenge to shed. this was how it was. how it would end— he has to calm himself not to be apart of the chaos that could lead to their downfall. he was no longer a boy who vented what he felt simply because he felt it. but, oh, he felt it. he felt the dragon queen’s disappearance like a knife held to a kindle and pressed against skin to split it all open. he was worried about her, he missed her, and he adored her. no good would come of it.
a trek through the black market (after encountering parts of asura) reveals something suspect and a shimmer of familiar color that makes eren’s neck nearly snap at the stall’s direction. the taste of blood lingers on the lid half-ajar to display a beautiful handful of silver scales with a royal blue sheen, all being sold for more than 40 thousand cunes each. true dragonscale, the vendor says, and before he could comment on how vibrant eren’s were, and how he would pay a tremendous amount for them—
the dragon’s forehead is against his, his eyes wide with blistering animosity that doesn’t match with a voice so deep, so low, and so absolutely chilling when he murmurs back to him: where did you get these?
her taste, her blood, her scent and her life were in these scales. he’d find her. he’d find her and wishes for punishment far worse than death. ]
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snatched: beginning (reaction only!)
pain would twist in his gut, but not necessarily from lex’s torment— it would yank at his chest and pull at his heart, dig as deep as his talons would into thick flesh and disregard. this feeling was one he couldn’t bare, and that had been the possibility of loss. even with her gifted poncho, worn enough to keep the aroma of her nape, where eren can practically see her golden locks fall and pink lips spread in a smile that made his belly as warm as his flame— he couldn’t find her. every empasse dug a deeper pit, he feels, like realizing just how much his adoration had grown, how dangerous it had become, and how he could absolutely care less for that one fact.
it was what it was. danaerys has made her way into a passionate heart that can become an icy storm at any moment’s notice. of course, there were so many things involved, where eren was unable to neglect certain regulations, and carefully sidesteps them to keep his own underlying goals and interests intact. there was a way to make it all align, there was— he just had to remain calm, as the years of his experience and lives of his brethren have taught them. it makes his blood boil underneath a mask of apathy, even when he could accurately pinpoint the reason why this was being done— he doesn’t condemn them, when he’s done it himself.
he does, though, feel an intricate web of emotion that, as a human and dragon, was a challenge to shed. this was how it was. how it would end— he has to calm himself not to be apart of the chaos that could lead to their downfall. he was no longer a boy who vented what he felt simply because he felt it. but, oh, he felt it. he felt the dragon queen’s disappearance like a knife held to a kindle and pressed against skin to split it all open. he was worried about her, he missed her, and he adored her. no good would come of it.
a trek through the black market (after encountering parts of asura) reveals something suspect and a shimmer of familiar color that makes eren’s neck nearly snap at the stall’s direction. the taste of blood lingers on the lid half-ajar to display a beautiful handful of silver scales with a royal blue sheen, all being sold for more than 40 thousand cunes each. true dragonscale, the vendor says, and before he could comment on how vibrant eren’s were, and how he would pay a tremendous amount for them—
the dragon’s forehead is against his, his eyes wide with blistering animosity that doesn’t match with a voice so deep, so low, and so absolutely chilling when he murmurs back to him: where did you get these?
her taste, her blood, her scent and her life were in these scales. he’d find her. he’d find her and wishes for punishment far worse than death. ]