To the End of the World - Eren Yeager x Reader

Everything is a blur. Your vision, your thoughts, your very sense of feeling—none of it feels real anymore. You sit hunched, trembling, your small hands clasped tightly over your ears in a desperate attempt to drown it all out. But the world keeps bleeding through. The muffled screams, the haunting cries, the sound of waves slapping against the wood of the boat. Your tears fall without control, dripping silently onto your lap as your wide eyes stay locked on the floorboards beneath you—because if you even glance up, you might have to see it all again.

Your mind flashes.

A memory.

No—more like a ghost.

Your mother's face appears in front of you, vivid and too close. Then it's gone. Replaced by your father's. His eyes, the warmth in them just before they dimmed. A second, maybe less—but it's enough to rip the air from your lungs.

You jerk back into the present with a sharp gasp. The screams around you are no longer muffled—they're real again. Loud and piercing. You finally dare to lift your head, and all you see are the hollowed faces of the other survivors crowding the deck. Children. Elders. Entire families huddled together, clinging to one another like driftwood in a storm. And yet, somehow, you feel the most alone.

Everyone here has lost something. Maybe even more than you. And yet, you're just... here. Existing. You sit at the edge of the boat, the one trailing behind a dozen others evacuating the ruins of Shiganshina.

There's no comfort in the calm that's settled over the water. Not when it lasts only a few breaths before another thunderous boom splits the sky followed by crumbling stone.

You don't dare to look, but you hear the screams all around you followed by the rumble in the waves. "They've broken through the second gate! The titans are coming in—!" someone screams. Everyone panics once more.

Your body flinches, but you don't react beyond that. You don't move. You don't run or scream like the others. You just sit there, frozen, shaking as the dread crashes over you like a tide. You press your palms harder against your ears, like you could shove the sound out of existence, maybe even rip them off if it would stop the noise. But nothing works. The panic is everywhere. It's inside you now.

People trample by, jostling each other, clinging to whatever scraps of safety remain. No one notices the child curled up at the edge of the boat, a single figure swallowed in the sea of chaos. No one stops.

You don't blame them.

You don't know what to do anymore. You're just a kid—alone, orphaned, and heading toward a place you've never known, with people you don't recognize, and no clue what's waiting ahead. How can a child survive that?

Your heart races so fast, you think it might shatter in your chest. But it doesn't. Instead, your body makes the choice for you.

You shut down.

Your eyes lower, half-lidded and empty. Your breath slows. Your head droops forward, and for a moment, everything fades. The noise. The fear. The weight of what's been taken from you. Darkness creeps in—not cruel, but quiet. It feels warm. Like sleep.

And maybe... maybe that's okay.

Because right now, sleep is the only place that doesn't hurt.

You let it take you. Whatever happens next... happens.

You have nothing left to lose.

---

The moment your eyes open again, a sudden jolt snaps you back into your body. Your head knocks against the wooden wall you were slumped against, and you wince, lifting a hand to rub the sting away. Everything feels stiff. Your neck, your arms, your heart.