Hi! How are you?

This is a new fanfiction... rated M for a reason ( lemon, noncon, gothic themes, zombies and obviously a lot of ERERI... I promise funny moments too? I think... LOL)

I'M PROUD TO BE A FANGIRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH =D

English is not my first language... please, be kind and leave a review =D

I'm very anxious kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... I'm happy if you say hello!

Guests are always welcome! I love guests, hey you are amazing (like Prussia)

tehe~*

I'm not the creator of Shingeki no Kyojin... just saying...whatever...

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

The first time they met was in a cemetery, a desert and unkempt place.

Tombstones were destroyed and covered in graffiti with the symbol of rebellion.

Dense thorns have grown distorted with leaf debris and carcasses of small animals. In some tombs dead were being dug to give space to other unidentifiable bodies.

A withered flower stood between the dead.

His eyes wrinkled at the sight... he felt by the smell, the dead were decomposing. Plants are feeding and growing on corpses with parts of bodies spread on the ground.

Those who were thrown into mass graves turned feast for crows and other hungry carnivorous.

This was the perfect place for thieves and other waste of humanity to hide and murder the weakest. You survive, you win.

He played a lot of attention on the men and women that crawl on land, begging for food and selling their bodies for drugs over rusty gate.

One of the tombs was breached and the remains of rotting flesh were scattered over a corner near a fountain.

The cemetery was a place underground created below an embankment to contain the contaminated population with contagious sickness.

He analyzed the macabre decoration of this place.

The fountain still had some pieces that were not eroded by acid rain or destroyed by the rebels that took years ago that land as a base.

The statue was an angel with clipped wings. Probably he carried someone chained to their feet since it could see a hand piece with a gray chain holding a leg.

His nose twitched with the putrid smell that was exuding while wolves and ravens fought what was left of the meat dead prey. A dead face unrecognizable was bitten by animals that fought to collect the best part of carrion.

Rivaille thinking of himself as an observer. Today his mission was to find out who was part of the rebel group and annihilate them, for the sake of the kingdom... that was the best place to get information. People sold each other for some food or drink, making it easy for him to capture some hoodlums.

Shinganshina was the poorest district of the country, a place where the poor struggle to live with the rest that are discarted from other places, separated by a large and impenetrable wall amount of soldiers.

This was a lawless land, very common to see men selling their sons and daughters into prostitution and brothels cheap or making them all guinea pigs, ripping organs and seeling them to trafficking... all that in order to gain money to live for one or two years in luxury.

After trafficking, prostitution was what else makes a profit for the survivors. His gloved hand quickly searched the internal pocket looking for a lighter. The cigarette hung lightly in your mouth without smoking.

Suddenly his eyes fell on a young boy, even dirty and ragged he was too beautiful for this world. He caught immediate his attention.

The boy that he watched out of curiosity lost someone in their family, it became obvious to see him get a construction of dead flowers in front of a tombstone wood.

He was so poor that he had no money to give a decent burial to the person he was watching.

With his own hands he dug a hole deep enough for the animals not to violate the tomb.

As he dug the pit he drove away with his hands some animals that roamed around him.

Smelling the dead body wrapped in a white sheet he cried silently.

Ravens already ran in a circle waiting to feast on the corpse.

Rivaille continued watching with rapt attention as he leaned on a wall shattered.

The long overcoat almost brushed the dirt floor, he sat against the wall next to the twisted rust, wrinkling his nose with the own idea of becoming infected in the middle of all this filth.

His pocket watch was pulled with a gold chain... enough to buy two or three slaves for personal use.

Until this moment he never needed any slave... but looking to him his mind created a sharp desire to touch this thin body and claiming as their.

"Capture all the suspects" he said quickly to one of his subordinates...just one look was enough and his men fell silent. His orders were absolute, strange as it might sound, he needed to get away from his men and talk to that stranger, ignoring the fact that he is presenting an erection to see a sick kid digging the grave of a loved one.

It was his custom to make sure the gun was loaded inside your coat, he never knew what was the right moment to use it. His body trembled at the thought of having to face a scene of shooting in a cemetery, that will frighten away your human angel.

He disguised the pain he was feeling throbbing between his legs with layers of clothing, including a fur coat he wore over his overcoat.

This image does not come out of your retina, the man could not look away. That was what the painters call nymph or muse of inspiration... a carnal and animalistic desire to possess his body here and now.

While the young man straightened the body in the grave, heedless of the mud and dirt all around the place splitted in his face - despite the tears - showed a trace of smile, while whispered something comforting to the dead, serene, enjoying a peace that this place does not transmit.

When lifting his head, a breeze ruffled his hair covering his thin face smooth and white as porcelain, receiving fearful glances from beggars.

His hands touched one of many thorns hidden beneath the dirt land, sullying the purity with blood. A few drops fell on the tomb with flowers rotted, the only color in this beautiful scenery...with large green orbs heating now landed directly on him.

He didn't know how much time had passed but he did not break eye contact.

Rivaille felt like an animal lured by the temptation of a snake and unaware of what was really doing he started giving hasty steps toward that lovely poisoned young boy.

Both were silent for a few seconds.

He, the great leader of the army, feared by all was facing a teenager with the body and soul marked by pain. He was taller than his clothes, with a brand-surfaced in thin wrist, for sure it was an unsuccessful attempt of suicide. It was too cold for him to wear only jeans and a short sleeved shirt.

None of the families and friends appeared, leaving only him and the body to bury.

"Are you smiling at me? Why?" - His voice was melodious, despite the harsh words - "you come here to laugh at my funeral?"

"Who was she?" Rivaille pointed to the tombstone with his gloved hands, his expressionless face of any emotion, ignoring the look of anger that he is receiving from young boy.

"My mother".

"How did she die"? His voice was lower than his normal tone "You are probably a lot of time here" he noticed in his mouth, now becoming purple with the cold "Waiting for someone?"

"And who are you to care?" he continued as his companion buried the woman's face, a part of the body uncovering while the cloth has come loose from the body stink.

"You'll die if you stay here"

"I don't care" His voice trembled but his beautiful face was covered with fury.

Rivaille slowly touched his shoulder, even with gloved hands he felt a wave of pleasure go through your body and making his cock throb with pain.

"Eren" the younger finished covering the face of his mother fainted and already swollen "That's my name, and please, don't touch me".

The rest of the burial took place in silence.

Eren let out a frustrated sigh as he threw the shovel away, he wanted to scream, cry, pull your hair out but nothing good would, he was facing reality now.

"I know it's silly to do this burial" he said looking at the ground "I am burying my mother in this place for her not to be eaten by the animals until the sanitary burn her body to produce charcoal for another cold night. It's all my fault". Rivaille had a sudden urge to kiss him as he felt the sensation of touch that soft creamy skin until their thoughts were scattered by a gunshot and a yellow band under the heaven that he knew well.

"I hate them!" Eren screamed "I'll kill them all, they're destroyed my life, kidnapped my sister and killed my mother. If I have to lost my life I'll kill them one by one!"

Rivaille quickly pulled Eren's hair back tightly, making him writhe in pain.

Oh, that look of hatred he has come to love ...

"Do you know much about the smoke, you are one of them? You've just sworn my death... I don't authorize you to die unless it is through my hands." he fell to his knees next to tomb, holding the stone as if it were your last salvation "and your mother is not here to save you or to die in your place".

"Don't speak about her!" he shouted and pulled a knife.

With a movement he was unarmed, his face writhing in pain was supported near one of the thorns.

Blood dripped from his wound. Rivaille pushed Eren closer to the grave, grabbing his arm so he would not escape, supporting his back on the tombstone.

He handcuffed the two arms of the young man back and squeezed her throat hard, making it almost faint from lack of oxygen. "What you... aaaaah" he shouted and threw his head back as Rivaille bit his mouth to the point of drawing blood, making him scream like a wounded animal.

A crow had approached the two flew away with the noise.

"Sick! Damn!" he stood until his captor threw the weight on his, ripping the rag he wore like a shirt with a passion unhealthy, removing the gloves he scored easily the body with sharp nails.

"You're better than I imagined!" Rivaille whispered in his ear as Eren bit into his mouth to keep from moaning. Hands snaked around his body, sing a strange feeling, it was as if he were hypnotized, accepting each as a gesture unforgettable pleasure.

A second explosion was heard in the sky, this time has released a red beam, tinting the sky in blood, the same color coming out of the mouth of Eren that moment after the forced kiss...that was a bad sign, the plan failed.

Those words that don't need to be said, viewed only by the color delusional that traced the blue sky like a wound ripping. Eren bit his tongue and tried to dodge without sucess until Rivaille licked the blood from the corner of his lips, holding the back of his head so he did not move any more.

The youngest was blushing and breathing fast. The throat marked by finger pressure.

"What would you give to regain his sister?"

He replied in a weak voice.

"Everything".