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itslieutenanthawkeye · 3 years

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Beyond the Sea of Pain

Day 3 of Jeankasa Week 2021: Family

AO3

A peaceful life for the girl who longed for love and the boy who gave her it.

Sasha Ackerman had never been one to pry. She carried her mother’s quiet, observant personality, or so her father said. Whenever conversations became for adults only, she excused herself, she never asked too many questions unless it was something that involved her loved ones.

Lately, Sasha had begun asking more questions, simply because most matters revolved around her mother, her mother and the child she carried. At seven years of age, Sasha knew a new baby implied many changes for the family. Both for her parents, and for her. Her whole life, everyone around her had gone to great lengths to make her happy, make her feel loved, and above all, to keep her safe.

All she was surrounded by were protectors: her grandmother who had taught her how to make the omelets her dad liked, uncle Armin and aunt Annie who came to visit the island with hundreds of presents each time, uncle Connie who bought her ice cream and candies whenever he babysat her, and uncle Levi with his perpetual frowns.

This would be the first time she had someone smaller than her, someone to take care of, someone to protect. Her mom had said in conversations she wanted three children, so Sasha had always known that sooner or later she would be the head of a triad of Ackerman children. She would be the eldest sister.

“Sasha, help me, please,” her mother called from the door. She was almost seven months in her pregnancy and still carried out her daily routine as usual. Her father had gotten angry at the beginning, when he caught her carrying things from the market on her own. But her mom was strong, stronger than her father even, and each time she had reassured him with a sweet smile that she could handle herself.

Sasha didn’t want to imagine the level of anxiety in her father during their first pregnancy.

“Where’s dad?” Her mother asked as they laid out the market bags on the kitchen counter. The queen of the island had given her parents a beautiful apartment in the new Shingashina district years ago, for helping bring peace to the world, although her mom always joked that all she and her father had done was work numbers in a library.

“He’s finishing up the baby’s room.” Sasha informed her mother, smiling at the sight of the chocolate biscuits she had bought for her. Her father always said that perhaps names came with traits. And Sasha had certainly inherited her namesake’s appetite.

“Have you helped?” Her mother asked, putting both hands on her waist. “He was up all night setting that crib. Did you paint with him?”

Sasha shook her head. “Dad didn’t let me.”

Her mother sighed. “That man needs to let other people help him.”

“Are you mad at him?” Sasha asked, kind of hoping she was. She had really wanted to help him paint the new baby’s room.

“I don’t think I can get mad at him,” her mother said, smiling as she wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Sasha put her hand on her mother’s belly, drawing in a breath in awe as she felt the baby moving. “The baby know it’s you saying hi. They’re saying hi back to you, you know.”

“Does the baby like me already?”

“The baby loves you, sweetheart.” Her mother replied, placing a kiss on her forehead. Sasha took a hold of her mother’s right arm, her fingers lingering on the ink markings on her wrists, the tattoo that had always been covered by bandages in the pictures from her time in the military.

“Mama, when am I going to get this?” she asked. A crease appeared between her eyebrows then, and for a moment, Sasha feared to have upset her. Her mother crouched to be at her height, with surprising grace despite her advanced pregnancy, and ran her thumb over her cheek.

“My mother gave it to me years ago. She said I had to pass it down to my children,” she said, her hand holding Sasha’s, which still lingered on the ink markings of her skin. “But back then, the world was smaller, honey. We thought this crest was the only thing we had left of our heritage when it wasn’t. There was a whole country beyond the island, and a huge clan with the same emblem and people who shared our blood.”

“That means I can’t get this marking?” Sasha said, feeling a little disappointed. Despite having her mother’s dark hair, she’d inherited her father’s structure; at her age, she was taller than most kids at school, and her eyes were of the same hazel as her father’s. The tattoo would’ve given her another thing in common with her mother, another thing to share that was just theirs.

Her mother seemed to notice the change in her expression, and she cradled her face with one hand. “You can decide to get it or not when you’re older. You’re still going to be my sweet little girl, whether you get it or not,” she said, kissing her cheek. “But I didn’t want to mark you with the emblem, at least not offer it until you became old enough to decide for yourself.”

“I wanted it to remember you,” Sasha replied shyly. “This is how you remember grandma, right?”

Her mother smiled, bringing her closer to embrace her. “You’ll be able to remember me in many, many more ways, Sasha darling,” she said, pulling her apart to face her before she continued speaking. “First of all, your dad and I are going to live for a long, long time. We’re going to take a million pictures, and your dad is going paint a thousand portraits of us. And when those are wrinkled and old, and you’re wrinkled and old, you’re still going to remember our love for you. Because you, dad, the baby, and I are going to live long lives together, okay? We’ll make memories together.”

Sasha nodded, wondering why her mother’s speech had filled her eyes with water. She passed a chubby hand across her face. “I love you, mama,” she said, hugging her again. “I swear, I’ll protect you and dad forever.”

“I love you so much, honey.” Her mother said. Her father always told her she didn’t need to protect them, but it seemed her mother understood her personality a little more in that regard. She understood that drive to protect and remember her loved ones, perhaps because Sasha was much like her.

“Want to go see how dad is doing with the room?” her mother said after a moment, with her usual smile.

Sasha held her mother’s hand as they walked to the baby’s room. The apartment would be small with another child. Their house would be finished in ten months; it had taken a while for his father to convince queen Historia to sell them that land by the river, and a little while longer for them to get all their financing for the house from Hizuru. Her mother had friends there, although Sasha had never met them in person. They would eventually move, Sasha was sure, but in the meantime, dad wanted to make their apartment as child friendly as possible.

“Hello, dad,” her mother said, knocking on the door threshold. They found him finishing up the far wall, the one next to the window. Sasha stared at the paintings on the walls, realizing why her father hadn’t let her help. She would’ve ruined the landscape he’d painted so thoroughly across the walls: it was their summer meadow, the one by the river, the place where they went most weekends to fish and eat and sing. The place that would be their new home in ten months.

Her father turned to look at them with a wide smile on his face. He was tall, taller than most, and had long hair and a stubble on his chin that itched when he kissed her cheeks. “Hello, darling,” her father said, walking up to her mother to give her a kiss on the lips. Then, he gave Sasha a kiss on the forehead. “Hello, little darling.”

And then, her father kissed her mother’s pregnant belly. “Hello, tiny darling.”

Her mother gave him one of those adoring smiles Sasha loved to see. Her mother was beautiful, the most beautiful woman ever, and when she smiled like that, Sasha almost thought she was looking at a doll. It was a look reserved only for dad; it had always seemed her eyes were full of sunlight when looking at him. “Jean, you shouldn’t have done all this.”

“What do you mean?” her dad asked. “Do you not like it.”

“I love it, honey. I absolutely adore it,” she said, grabbing his face to kiss his cheek. “But we’re moving at the end of the year, and you’ve barely slept…”

“You know I like doing this,” her father replied. “Besides, it’s so the baby can get used to the scenery before we get there.”

A low giggle escaped her mother. “Also, Sasha wanted to help you here.”

“She’s a kid, Mika. It was a lot of crouching, a lot of tracing, too much smell of paint,” he said, giving her mother another kiss. He was never shy about showing his love, but the closer she got to the end of the pregnancy, the more did her father kiss her. Sometimes it felt as if he kissed her every second of the day. “I didn’t want her to get all tired.”

“She’s strong, Jean,” her mom replied, smiling still. “She can help you out when I’m not here.”

“I’m sure she’s as strong as her mother,” he said, bending to kiss Sashas’s cheek and then her forehead. “I’m sorry, okay, little darling? I promise you’ll help with the next baby room.”

“Let me have this one first.” Her mom said with a low giggle. “Will you, lover boy?”

“I waited seven years for our second one, didn’t I?” Her father teased.

“Let’s not pretend you haven’t been trying for another one the past seven years, Kirstein.”

“You know I love trying for one, Ackerman.”

Sasha walked over to his set of paints, her eyes on the mixture of colors but her ears on their banter. She liked watching them go about life together; there was such an easy happiness between them, an easy, almost-perfect happiness that could only come from the love they had for each other. A love they poured onto her, a love that filled Sasha with happiness.

Sometimes, when she saw her mother smile at her father, she could barely believe she was the same woman as the one in the pictures from her days in the military. The woman in the pictures was stoic, untouchable, a perfect figure of strength, a statue with the sadness in her eyes as her most defining quality. Her mother, the Mikasa Ackerman Sasha knew, was all smiles, kisses, and kind words; she was low conversations about butterflies, she was warm hugs after a day at school, she was adoring looks for her father when he cooked dinner.

It’s not that her mom didn’t get sad every now and then. Of course, whenever they visited the graveyard where her namesake rested, or when she and her father spoke of the past in hushed whispers in the living room. But still, sadness was not all of her. Her mother had turned into sunlight, that’s the only way Sasha could describe it.

“Why are you frowning, sweetie?” Her father asked.

“You two are being corny again,” Sasha replied. “You’re doing your kissy faces.”

Her mother and father exchanged a look and a smile, and soon her father had lifted her into his arms. “Mikasa, we just made little Sasha jealous,” he said as he twirled her around. It didn’t take long for Sasha to start giggling. “She wants all the kisses to herself!”

“You are too corny! Your beard is itchy!” Sasha laughed. “Mom, help!”

Her mom took her from her father’s arms and gave her a thousand kisses on her cheeks and forehead in the lapse of a second. “All the kisses must be for my sweet little girl,” her mother teased. Her father took her back in his arms, not wanting her to carry Sasha’s full weight so far into the pregnancy. “She deserves them, don’t you think, Jean?”

“Yes, she does,” her dad agreed. “She is the best older sister in all of Paradis. Your little brother already adores you.”

“Or little sister.” Her mother said, giving Sasha another kiss and leaning into her dad to get a peck on the cheek from him.

“Or little sister.” Her dad agreed.

“When do we know?” Sasha asked. “When do we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“We need to wait until baby’s born,” her dad explained, using the paint on his thumb to draw a little white star on her cheek. “It won’t take long. We need to be really careful with mommy until the baby’s born, and then some more after.”

“Mommy is top priority,” Sasha agreed, nodding seriously. “Then after the birth, mom and baby will be top priority.”

Her dad chuckled and looked at her mom. “She really does take after you, doesn’t she, Mikasa?”

“I’d say she takes after you,” her mother said, tucking a strand of hair behind Sasha’s ear. “All that concern for my well-being could’ve only come from you.”

“How are we going to name the baby?” Sasha asked then.

“If it’s a girl, we’ve decided it’ll be Carla, right?” Her dad said, and her mother nodded.

“And if it’s a boy?” Sasha asked. Her father exchanged a look with her mother, both at a loss from her question. Sasha figured they hadn’t considered the possibility of having a boy, and the matter of a name for a boy hadn’t come up until now. She shook her head in exasperation; Aunt Annie called them a pair of idiots and although Sasha would never truly consider them a pair of idiots, she could see why she’d granted them that nickname.

“How about dinner?” Her mother said.

“I’ll get to it.” Her father said, kissing her mother again.

Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and let out an exasperated sigh. “Jean, let us help you. Honey, nothing bad will happen to me. I can make dinner for three.”

“I’m sorry,” her father said, frowning, cradling her mother’s face in his hand. “You’re just so pretty. And I can’t believe you’re carrying our child sometimes. I don’t want you to lift a finger, I don’t want to risk you at all, Mikasa.”

“Jean,” her mother said, placing a kiss on his lips. “I love you and I promise I’ll be fine, alright?”

Her dad nodded. “I love you too, Mika.”

“You two are too corny,” Sasha said, jumping from her father’s arms and walking towards the kitchen. “I’ll just eat biscuits while you kiss.”

“Sasha, wait!” Her mother said.

“Young lady, do not fill up before dinner.” Her father called.

Sasha smiled for herself as they followed her into the kitchen. Part of her felt a little bad for interrupting, but if they’d kept being all lovey with each other, dinner would have taken ages. And Sasha cared more about her appetite than letting those two be lovey-dovey. Besides, those biscuits did smell great.

__________________________

It wasn’t until Sasha had gone to bed that Mikasa had the time to sort through the clothes for the new baby. Some had been sent by Levi and Armin, alongside letters promising to visit them after the baby came to help Jean with the house. Some had been made by her own hands; she’d learned knitting from her mother when she was a child, but she hadn’t gotten back to it until she’d met Jean’s mom. All the socks had been knitted by Jean, a fact of which he was proud about.

Mikasa smiled to herself. Of all the things he’d done for her, for them as a family, his biggest pride was that he’d managed to have time to knit a couple dozen pair of baby socks.

“We got a package from Hizuru this morning,” Jean informed her as he walked towards her across the hallway. “Who gives a baby a golden reliquary necklace?”

“Really rich royals.” She said, turning to look at him.

Jean made a disgusted sound as he sat next to her. He leaned his back against the couch and stretched, and Mikasa’s eyes were drawn to the muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. “Alright, that’s Sasha back asleep.”

“Was it a bad nightmare?”

Jean shook his head. “She keeps dreaming a giant baby’s chasing her.”

Mikasa snorted. “She’s just like you were when she was going to be born.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that nervous. I was just excited.” Jean said, grabbing her gently and bringing her close to his side. Mikasa hugged him, resting her head on his chest for a long moment. She took in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of him, thankful for the constant beat of his heart, for his presence, for his immense love.

Her life had been quiet grief up until the moment they’d returned to the island. She’d never thought she would love anyone ever again as much as she’d loved Eren.

But, apparently, she’d been wrong.

The growth of her love for him had been the thawing of her life, slow but inevitable, leading surely towards what seemed to be an eternal spring. Her constricted heart had gotten used to his presence little by little after his return; in the deep darkness that the rumbling had left her in, Jean had offered his hand to her, and they’d spent peaceful, quiet, love-filled days together.

Their friends had been there for her, but it was his presence, their conversations, their time in silence together, what she came to enjoy the most, what she looked forward to. Soon after, she noticed his appearance, that stirring he caused in her chest. And next thing she knew, Mikasa had been looking at him with the same loving eyes as she’d looked at her first love.

She’d fallen without trying, without expecting to, but she’d fallen irrevocably. And now she couldn’t imagine her life without him, without his kind, gentle presence by her side, always so certain she had the answer to any issue, always so confident in her strength.

The fire, the hatred that had fueled her first love was nonexistent in him; Jean was peace, spring, he was the promise that the world could be rebuilt after being ablaze. And she loved him; she loved all of him, and the fact that he’d given her a child –two, now– had only deepened her love for him. She didn’t regret her past; she didn’t fear the horrible memories, not with him by her side.

“About the name if it’s a boy,” Mikasa said, looking up at him. “I was thinking Marco.”

Jean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I was thinking Eren.”

Now, it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. Just as he knew how much Eren had meant for her, Mikasa knew how much Marco had meant for him. “But I thought you would’ve wanted to honor him, because of your history together and—”

“I thought the same.” Jean said, brushing her hair back. He liked her hair; on their wedding night, he’d told her about how his crush on her had started, and Mikasa still liked hearing the story every now and then. “I thought you would’ve wanted to have a child with his name.”

“I thought you would’ve wanted to have a child with his name.”

Jean smiled again. “Well, great minds think alike, don’t they?”

“Jean,” Mikasa said seriously. “You’ve done so much for us already. If you were to pick the name, I don’t want you to pick one just because you think that’s what I want.”

“And I don’t want you to think I do all the things I do just to pick a name.”

Mikasa shook her head. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know. Come here.” Jean said. Mikasa finished closing the gap and their lips met. And, like every other time, her chest filled with warmth. She was drawn to him like a magnet was to metal; the comfort his skin offered was unparalleled by anything else she’d ever felt. True, she always teased that he’d been the one to try over and over again for a second child. But, in truth, the one who always seemed to want him on her was Mikasa herself.

“I still think Eren has a good ring to it.” Jean said after a while.

“He’s gonna get teased in school.” Mikasa said, thoughtfully. “What if he travels out of the island, Jean? People out of here don’t like that name. Have you given that idea any thought?”

“Maybe we could call him Aaron or something.”

Mikasa snorted. “You’re silly.”

“And you are gorgeous.” Jean said, kissing the side of her head.

“I still like Marco better for a name.” Mikasa admitted, wrapping both arms around his neck.

“Ah, are you trying to seduce me to get me to agree?” Jean said, placing kisses along her neck, reaching the curve of her ear to whisper hoarsely. “Because it’s going to work wonders, and you know that, Mrs. Ackerman.”

“I’m not,” Mikasa giggled, letting him kiss her neck and chest a little longer. “I just think we need to make up our minds soon. It might be a boy, you know?”

“Why do I feel we won’t make up our minds?” Jean said, his hands searching for the buttons of her shirt.

“I have the same feeling.” Mikasa whispered back, working on the buttons of his shirt as well.

“Well, then, in that case I guess we have only one option.”

“Which is?” Mikasa said, straightening to look at him in the eyes. She enjoyed looking at his hazel eyes; she adored seeing his overflowing love for her in them. Once she’d started to recognize it, she hadn’t been able to keep herself from looking for it.

Jean smiled. “We hope for a girl.”

“Or twins,” Mikasa said as he resumed kissing her lips.

“Or twins.” Jean agreed, kissing her a little more.

“I love you, Jean.” She whispered, going to his ear to kiss him.

“I love you too, Mikasa.”

_______________________

Sasha brought out the tray and smiled proudly at the cookies. They all had perfect shapes, just as she wanted them. The clock on the wall told her she had a couple of hours to decorate and place all the snacks out on the table; her husband said he would be getting everyone from the airport, which was a whole hour and a half away from their small town, and her brother and sister would prepare everything in the garden for the party.

As the eldest sister, she’d always been the one to boss them around, to help them sort out their problems and protect them from whoever tried to bully them. However, the past four years, Marco and Carla (or Charlie, how Sasha liked to call her since her birth, twenty five years ago) had become more than helpful for the little matters she and her husband didn’t notice.

It’s not that they were fools, no. It’s just that they’d been prepared for one child only.

Little footsteps resonated across the hall, and Sasha smiled knowingly as the twins appeared, holding hands as usual, on the threshold of the kitchen. “Sora, Oliver,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron, noticing the mud stains on their legs and faces. She crouched in front of them, using a piece of cloth to wipe the mud off Sora’s face. “Kids, weren’t you going to take a shower?”

“Where’s Jeanbo?” Oliver asked as she went to lean his cheeks.

“Huh?” Sasha replied.

“Jeanbo and Mika,” Sora said, pouting. “They were going to help us choose our clothes.”

Sasha straightened, putting her hands on her waist. “Does grandpa know you call him that?”

“He laughs!” Oliver replied, looking outraged.

“Those two spoil you guys too much,” Sasha replied, shaking her head. “You should be calling them grandma and grandpa. It’s disrespectful to call them by their names.”

“But Mika said it was alright!” Sora said, jumping a little in her spot. “She said it’s cute!”

Of course, her mother thought it was cute. She was the main culprit when it came to spoiling the twins. They were her first grandchildren, and neither of the two had inherited the Ackerman’s serious traits. It was all Jean’s, Sasha’s mother often said…from their cheeky smiles and hazel eyes to their loud, proud voices and talent to become the leaders of any group of children. Perhaps that was why her mother found them so incredibly adorable.

Although, to be fair, Sasha thought, they were incredibly adorable.

“Where are they, mama?” Oliver asked.

“They went out for a walk five minutes ago.” Sasha said, looking out the window. “Mom likes feeling the sun, and dad likes holding her while walking.”

Oliver and Sora exchanged an outraged look with each other, then looked up at her. Sasha couldn’t help but to smile wider at the sight of their childish indignation. “They didn’t wait for us!” they exclaimed at the same time.

“Let them be, kiddos,” Sasha said, taking off her apron. Decorating the cookies would have to wait, maybe she could ask her father for help. He’d always been better with art, after all. “Those two will be with you all afternoon. Let them have their romantic time together, okay?”

Oliver and Sora smiled cheekily, showing her the two dimples on each of their cheeks. That one trait, they’d gotten from Sasha’s husband. She adored seeing that tiny part of him on their faces. “What is it, you two?”

“They’re always having romantic time, mama.” Oliver pointed out.

“That’s because they love each other very much.” Sasha said, walking forward. The two let go of each other’s hands and allowed her to stand between them, to hold their hands and lead them upstairs, where a warm bath waited for each.

“Have they always been like that, mama, all lovey-dovey?” Sora asked.

“As long as I remember, yes,” Sasha replied as they went up.

“Will they be like that forever?” Oliver asked then.

“I’m pretty sure. They’ve still got plenty of years ahead, don’t they?” Sasha said, and her children hummed yes in response, at the same time.

Sasha smiled; she’d grown to know their story gradually, how much they’d lost, all the sorrow, pain, and death, and all the light that had followed afterwards. Her mother and father had taken all the little broken pieces of their souls and created a kaleidoscope that reflected in beautiful rays of light in a myriad of colors upon their family. They’d created happiness out of sorrow, and they deserved so many more years together.

They deserved to live through the happy times, the sad times, to grow old together. They deserved to love each other, love their children, their grandchildren, their friends. The family that had bloomed from disaster and pain.

They deserved to live. They all did.

#jeankasa #jean x mikasa #jean kirschtien #mikasa ackerman #jeanmika #Jeankasa Week 2021 #jeankasaweek2021 #fanfiction #ao3 #fluff #Family #Day 3 #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

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celticvampriss · 6 years

Note

For the prompt... Jeankasa/ the princess and the frog?... maybe a late entry for the fairy tales weekend?

Thanks for the request! I took inspiration from the Grimm Fairy Tale version and the Disney version, but it’s really condensed.

On a bright mid-summer morning a girl strode through a wild meadow. She had no direction or aim, but to be free for only a moment. Her boots found the stones of a creek and she balanced her way down the current.

Mikasa did not allow herself much indulgence, for to find her dreams she knew she must work hard. During the day she went to school, then work, then home. The weekend was filled with more work and study. And one day a month she set aside for this.

Out here there was no waiting alarm clock, night shift, or chores. She could grieve and cry. Or rant and kick. Stomp through the grass or let water wade through her fingers while she watched it trickle past.

Her creek led to a pond. Willow branches dipped into the still pool, cattails bobbed on a breeze, and dragonflies kissed the water between lily pads. Her soul relaxed here. Anger had been simmering in her heart–any trip to the bank was laced with a strong dose of reality–and her thoughts had spiraled until now.

She sat in a beam of sunlight on soft grass, stretched out her legs and closed her eyes. Peace. She could only hear the rustle of the leaves, the babble of the creek, the little splash of frogs, the–

“Hey.”

Mikasa leapt to her feet, her fists ready, and spun to find herself completely alone. As her heart stilled she asked the emptiness, “Hello?”

“Yeah, hey.”

A voice, clear as day, right next to her. Mikasa looked up, scanned the other side of the pond, searched for the source of the voice. But there was no source to be found.

“Sorry, you seem a bit riled up…” The voice continued, “You planning on attacking me?”

She looked down at her fists, knuckles white, and decided against dropping them. A girl could never be too careful. She was not a fool, not again. That day had made her guarded and cautious.

“Where are you?”

“Well, first promise you’re not going to punch me.” The voice was male, but wrong somehow. A deep…croaking quality. Was it an invisible person? She had heard of magic deep in these woods, witches and hags ready to curse anyone foolish enough to cross them. But here? This part of the wood was always safe. And invisible boys was not something she’d ever heard of before.

“Show yourself and we’ll discuss it.” She was still pivoting on her foot, her eyes scanning, scanning. She balanced on the toes, ready to spring in any direction should the voice appear.

“I get that I scared you, I’m sorry, but I don’t mean you any harm. Honest. If you could just…” his voice moved, “Stop moving…” moved again, “You’re getting dangerously close to killing me, here.”

Mikasa nearly threw her hands up in exasperation. The voice continued to hop around…

She looked down. Ants scurried through the grass, a cricket jumped and a moth fluttered away, and a frog sat near her boot. A big frog, bright green and slimy.

“Please stop staring, I know I look disgusting.”

Somehow, the voice coming from the frog did not scare her. It shocked her, certainly, Mikasa was frozen in place. Though, she supposed, if he did turn out to be evil she could just step on him.

“Figures. First person to come here and it’s a hot girl.”

His speech was youthful for a frog, like it should be coming from a teenager and not an amphibian. She couldn’t bring herself to respond. If she didn’t acknowledge it, maybe he would go away.

The frog hopped over to a log and sat atop. She didn’t understand how, but its frog features appeared miserable. Pathetic, really.

“Listen, I was gonna ask for your help, but I can’t. So can you please just leave me here to rot in peace? Or, at least, just stop staring cause you’re really beautiful and I swear I don’t look like this normally.” He groaned, which turned into a croak, and then groaned again. His frog hands covered his eyes. “I need to just shut up.” He shook his head back and forth, before throwing his hands down and crying out, “I’m so much better looking than this, I swear.”

Mikasa understood that he was no threat, but rather pitiable. While he prattled on about his looks she had made a few deductions about him that gave her pause. When he was finally quiet she asked, “Are you normally human?”

“YES!” He wailed, “But I didn’t know she was a witch when I said that. How could I know? I was just being honest.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, here I am. Been stuck here for weeks.”

She wrinkled her nose, picturing the scene of a human boy trapped as a frog in the woods for weeks. Oh, gross, what did he eat?

“Don’t pity me, I beg you. I’ll figure out how to get this fixed…” He was quiet for a second, then he looked up at her, “Any chance you’d, maybe, carve your number into this log before you go?”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Never mind, it was worth a shot,” he sighed. “Anyway, thanks for listening.”

“Wait,” She called before he could hop away, “Did she tell you how to break this curse?”

His cheeks puffed up, like he was holding in his answer. Then he slowly answered, “Yeah…”

“What do you need to do? I might be able to help.”

He hung his head. “You definitely would, but…uh, can’t.”

She crossed her arms. “Do you want to stay a frog?”

“Of course not.”

“Then stop being a child and just tell me.”

He closed his eyes. “Fine. The witch said I could break the curse ‘if I could find someone willing to kiss a frog.’” Mikasa pursed her lips, but he was already shaking his head. “But no. No way. I don’t expect you–”

“You’re being dense.” She walked over to the log and knelt down. She supposed it was kind of gross to kiss a frog, but somehow, the idea that he was actually a person helped. “A kiss is only a second. Two seconds and you’re free.”

He considered. “I guess…”

“Hold still.” She didn’t close her eyes, this wasn’t a romantic gesture, but just leaned forward and placed a small, gentle kiss on the frog’s head. She sat up straight and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. He was much wetter than she anticipated. She swiped at her mouth again. Two more times. Okay, it was a bit grosser than she expected.

And while she rubbed her lips, sparks of light caught her eye. Enchantment swirling around the log, engulfing everything in light, until it all vanished with a radiant snap. And in place of the frog sat a boy.

He opened his eyes and looked down at himself. His hands roamed over his t-shirt and down to his sneakers. He jumped up.

“My legs!” He caressed his own cheeks and ruffled his short, ash-blonde hair. Mikasa looked away, refusing to acknowledge that he’d been right, he was definitely more attractive than a frog.

While his elation subsided he began to take notice of her again. His cheeks turning a bright red. “Uh, thanks. Thank you.”

She nodded and stood up beside him. Now that he was a boy, and an attractive boy around her own age, their tranquil pond had become an awkward oasis.

“So…um,” he scratched at his cheek, “Any chance of getting your number now?”

That made her smile. It had been a long time since she smiled. Mikasa put her hands in her pockets, “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” She gestured for him to follow and he ran to her side.

“To be fair, though, we’ve already kissed once so it wouldn’t be weird to do it again.”

Mikasa pushed his shoulder, hard, knocking him completely off balance and into a bush. “You’re pushing it.”

She left him to untangle himself from the bush, obviously not fully adjusted to having human limbs again. But she walked slowly. Plenty of time for him to catch up.

#jeankasa #jeankasa weekend #jeankasa fairytale weekend #jeankasa fairytale au #my fic #myfic

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