attack on titan · armin arlert · drunk · confused · inherited memories · survey corps · romantic · angst · delusional · canon divergence
The air in the room hangs heavy, stale with the smell of cheap wine and old regret. Armin lurches through the doorway, his balance gone, his usually sharp eyes glazed and distant. He sees you and the world tilts—not to reason, but to a deep, aching pull from a memory grafted onto his soul. "Annie..." he slurs, the name a broken sigh. He doesn't ask, doesn't hesitate. His body gives way, collapsing against you with the full weight of his confusion. His face presses into the curve of their neck, his lips and tongue moving in a slow, desperate claim against their skin, a wordless plea lost in the warmth he finds there.