His gaze is drawn to her smile, radiant and tender, as she presses her soft lips against his. Her palm rests firmly against his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, clutching it as if anchoring herself to him. The sensation is intoxicating—both comforting and painfully sweet, stirring something deep within him.
Eren's eyes flutter open, half-lidded, catching the sight of her own gaze fixed on his lips before lifting back to meet his. Her eyes are warm, filled with unspoken love, and as she smiles against his lips, the subtle curve sends a wave of emotion crashing over him.
When he breaks the kiss, a delicate string of saliva briefly connects them, a fleeting thread that seems to hold their shared breath in the space between.
She doesn't let go of him. Instead, her hands glide down, gently capturing his wrists. Guiding him with quiet determination, she places his hands on the swell of her belly—round, full, and alive with the promise of their future.
Eren's breath hitches as he looks at her, his emerald eyes searching her face for meaning, for reassurance. Then his gaze shifts downward, resting on her growing belly beneath his hands. The weight of the moment sinks in—a mixture of wonder, pride, and the fragile fear of what lies ahead.
And in her serene expression, he finds his answer: this is their world now, their shared creation, their promise of something better.
Eren's hands remain still at first, almost hesitant, as though the life beneath his palms is too fragile to touch. But as her fingers lace over his, grounding him, he feels it—subtle but unmistakable, the faint kick from within. His breath catches again, this time with awe, and his gaze shoots back to hers.
"She's been active today," Mikasa murmurs, pressing a kiss at his cheek her voice soft yet carrying a quiet excitement that betrays her usual stoicism.
"She?" Eren whispers, his lips quirking into a faint smile.
"I don't know," she replies, her cheeks coloring slightly. "But... it feels like a 'she.'"
A chuckle rumbles low in his throat as his thumbs gently brush over the swelled of her belly.
Eren lowers his face, lips brushing gently against the warm, stretched skin beneath him. He lingers there, the intimate connection grounding him, before resting his forehead against it.
A faint, bittersweet calm washes over him, and his tense posture finally relaxes as her fingers glide softly through his brown hair. "It's cold," she murmurs, her voice trembling and hollow.
Eren lifts his head, searching her face, but what he sees freezes his blood. Her features are an abyss, a void where her identity should be. He hates it—the emptiness, the unfamiliarity—and his chest tightens with an ache he can't explain.
"I'm cold..." she repeats, her voice fading into something fragile, desperate.
Without thinking, Eren pulls her into his arms, holding her close as though that could somehow keep her from slipping further away. "Eren..." she whispers his name, her tone laced with something he doesn't fully understand.
"I miss you..."
He tries to respond, to call out to her, but his voice is lost. His throat tightens, words dying before they can form. Who is she? Why does she feel so achingly familiar?
His hand brushes through her hair, a futile attempt to tether her to him, but in the blink of an eye, she's gone. The warmth in his arms dissipates, leaving him clutching only himself.
A tear slide down his eye as he tries deluding yet it's futile because he can't remember her face anymore, he can't remember anything about her, except for her smile or that crimson scarf around her neck.
Who are you....
Eren's eyes snap open, his heart pounding. The room is bathed in a faint glow of moonlight, casting silver streaks across his tear-streaked face. He blinks, disoriented, before his gaze shifts to the shaking small figure beside him.
"Ymir?" he whispers, his voice raw.
The blonde girl stirs, hastily wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. "Sorry, Dad," she says, her voice small and shaky. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"
Eren looks down at her, his own eyes glistening. "Missing Papa?" he asks softly.
Her lips tremble as she nods, and then she throws her arms around him, clinging to him like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "It's alright... I'm here," he murmurs, his hand moving in soothing circles along her back. She cries quietly against his chest, her fragile body trembling with each sob until exhaustion finally pulls her into sleep.
Eren watches her, the rise and fall of her breath steadying as she drifts off. His heart aches for her—a small, frail girl burdened with more than any child should bear. He leans back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as his mind drifts.
Zeke Yeager. A brilliant tactician and a brilliant brother. He was the only reason Eren was alive right now. Breathing. But just as the bell rang his time was out alongside the other warriors.
The powers were transferred to the next generation and Ymir being the royal blood inherited the beast titan of her father. Jenny—Ymir's mother—had taken her own life, unable to bear the reality of her beloved husband's death.
And now, Ymir bore the Beast Titan's power, thrust into a cruel legacy she never asked for.
Eren's chest tightens. He didn't want this for her—for anyone but himself. The mantle of war chief had been a hollow victory, a title built on the backs of sacrifices he wished he could undo. He strokes Ymir's hair absentmindedly, his thoughts drifting to the fleeting figure from his dream.
"Save Eldians. Euthanization plan. Is that really the way. Devil of Paradis. Island Devils. Or just victims." he whispers into the stillness, though no answer comes. Instead, the faint glow of moonlight seems to mock him, illuminating the shadows of his failures and the unbearable weight of the future.
"Dad... Is Papa watching us right now?" Ymir's voice is quiet, fragile, the words trembling as they leave her lips. Her golden eyes flicker toward Eren, searching for something—reassurance, maybe, or a truth she isn't ready to hear.
Eren, still lost in his own thoughts, blinks and turns to her. His mind is heavy, his heart heavier, but when he looks at her, he finds his answer.
"Yeah... He is," he says softly. "He'll keep watching us. And even if he isn't... I'll always be here, watching over my little princess."
A small, shaky smile tugs at Ymir's lips, and then she giggles—a soft, fleeting sound that feels almost out of place in the weight of the night. She throws her arms around him, holding him tightly, as if afraid he might disappear too.
Eren exhales, the tension in his chest loosening just a little, and he strokes her hair gently.
"Sleep well," he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head. "Training starts tomorrow."