#me copying and pasting something that I WROTE 'i'm a plagiarist ;('

[possumbylight]

Letters From the Future

A/N: hello hello this is also cross-posted on ao3 so you can check it out there too if you wanna! i don’t know if there’s any demand for bertolt content but if there is i am here to provide. hope you enjoy ;)

Summary: A pile of letters, tied in red ribbon and addressed to her from a man now dead.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff and Angst, meaning fluff on the way but angst on the end. I’ve never written angst so I don’t know if i’m any good at it but it made me sad writing it so maybe that means something

This bad boy is over 12k words. Please set aside the appropriate chunk of time if you would like to read it all in one sitting.

Pairings: Bertolt Hoover/Reader

“Y/n?”

There was no response when Jean knocked on the door. She had been in her room for the last day now, only appearing in brief intervals to accept meager portions of food or take a trip to the communal bathrooms. Everyone who saw her gave her at least ten feet of clearance, as though she were going to combust, as though she were going to sink her teeth into her own hand and transform before their eyes.

“Y/n, I know you’re in there. I have something for you.”

“No, thank you.”

“Too bad. If you don’t open the door, I’m bringing Mikasa to break it down.”

He had wanted to threaten that he would break down the door himself, but Mikasa carried a certain weight around the barracks that he simply could not attain.

Jean balanced the weight of the letters in his hand. There had to be at least two dozen in the pile, likely more, and some of them were several pages long. When he had pulled them out of the wall, they had been wrapped neatly with a red ribbon and kept in a simple leather pouch that tied shut with a drawstring. Bertolt’s other effects were in various states of disrepair, showing signs of water damage, wrinkling, or general wear and tear”

The letters were pristine.

He had taken one look at the letter on top of the pile before averting his gaze. The words were not meant for him. Every single letter was addressed to the same person, who was now in the middle of reluctantly shuffling towards the door before Jean could call in reinforcements to smoke her out.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t be rude. I brought you something,” he reiterated, shoving the pile of letters in her direction before she could refuse them. “Mail for you.”

“My family is dead. No one sends me mail.”

“You’ll want to read these.”

She scrunched her brow but finally accepted the letters and slammed the door in Jean’s face, purposefully ignoring the indignant, “you’re welcome,” that he shouted through the door. She carefully pulled open the red ribbon and let the pile fall out all over her desk. As she scanned the words, it became incredibly obvious why the letters had been given to her and not kept for evidence.

Dear y/n,

I doubt you will ever see this letter. It’s hard to remember how many years of my life I have left, but if I do succeed in returning to my hometown, it won’t be long before I will have to pass on my power to the next generation of warriors.

I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but I don’t think you would want to. I’m sure you probably hate me now, and I don’t blame you for that. I can’t even bring myself to say that I regret what I did, but I know that I am not proud of myself.

I remember looking down and seeing you during the breach of Trost, and then again before Reiner and I deserted. I remember the terror in your eyes. I remember the way you ran away from me, instead of running towards me, like you always did when I would see you out on the training grounds. I hate myself for making you feel afraid. I never wanted that.

If you do someday see this letter and you don’t immediately burn it, I would like to clear up a few things.

I don’t think you’re a filthy devil. I don’t think any of you are, but especially not you. I don’t know how anyone could look at you and find a single thing wrong. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met. I wish I had known you before Zhiganshina fell. I can’t promise that it would have changed things, though.

I was raised to do exactly what I did. I was given a mission, and I did it to the best of my ability. I was only a child, then. I was a child when I inherited this power at all. I won’t try to justify myself to you. I don’t deserve forgiveness for what I’ve done, but know that there are reasons why I did it.

I love you. That is the most important truth I want to convey to you. If you ever loved me, I’m sure that it has run out. A happy ending was never possible for me, but it can be for you, if you keep surviving as you have for so long. The fight ahead will not be easy, but I hope you come out alive on the other end. I hope you can find peace and happiness. I love you, and I want you to be happy, even if I am not there to see it.

Please, please survive.

All my love,

Bertolt

~

“Hoover! You’ll take your head off if you keep swinging that close. Your height can be an advantage on the ground, but when you’re in the air, you have to watch it,” Shadis screamed. The man’s lung capacity was perpetually astounding. It was a miracle that he awoke every day with his vocal cords still intact, after having shrieked his head off at the cadets the day before.

Bertolt took the advice in stride, however, keeping his head ducked as he lifted off from the ground below a tree branch. When he made it to the treetop, Reiner was already there, surveying the territory from above.

“If we take out the small titans in the clearing, we likely won’t have any competition,” Reiner began strategizing aloud, “but if we take out the larger ones by the creek, we’ll rack up more points.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“Alright. Let’s take the creek, but—wait, where are the other two?”

Just as Reiner turned to look for the other two members of their team, a hook thwapped into the trunk just below his feet, sending y/n hurtling upwards towards him until she landed, butt-first, on the branch beside him.

“Sorry,” she apologized, out of breath and clearly a bit embarrassed about flopping onto the tree like a large fish out of water. “Connie ran into a tree.”

Connie, who landed harshly beside her after a few moments, indignantly retorted, “You ran into a tree too, y/n, don’t blame me.”

“If you hadn’t gotten your lines tangled in a bush, neither of us would have run into a tree.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it was,” Reiner interjected, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “We’re going to clear out the large titans by the creek and then move into the inner forest. Understood?”

“Yes sir!” y/n and Connie both saluted with questionable levels of reverence.

It was a group training exercise, which Bertolt appreciated and dreaded in measure. He was glad to have Reiner on his team, but that necessitated the presence of two other team members whom he did not know very well. Y/n and Connie seemed nice enough, but his nerves did not yield to nice.

Annie’s team was already perusing the area around the creek, having taken out three large titan standees, the feathers and dirt from their nape-bags busted all across the ground. Bertolt would have been content to have avoided all competition and settled for the middling points they could have acquired in the empty clearing, but Reiner was determined to take first place.

Y/n and Connie seemed content with not smashing into anymore trees.

“Reiner, how do you do that move where you pick your legs up mid-air and turn?” Connie called above the sound of pulleys and wires and extending blades.

“It’s about core strength, Springer. You’ll have to actually participate in conditioning if you want to learn how to do it properly.”

“What? I’m a master of conditioning. You could teach me right now, and I could—”

“Connie, you did seven push-ups this morning and were convinced you were bleeding internally,” y/n corrected as she zipped past the conversation. Once she was in the air, she found, she was quite fast. It was taking off and landing where she had to watch out.

“I—shut up.”

By the time they arrived at the creek, there were four standees left, which they divvied up between them and took down with relative ease. It wouldn’t be long before graduation, and y/n was happy to be on a team with three top-ten-hopefuls, even if she was only number 14 herself. She had planned to go into the Scouts, anyway, but the idea of having the option of living in the Interior was enticing.

She arced around the standee, spinning once to rip open the bag at its nape before picking out a decent landing spot on the ground, one where she was sure to avoid casualties even if her feet failed her again. Unfortunately, just as she began her uneasy descent, a figure flashed into her periphery—tall, dark, and wielding two razor-sharp blades.

“Bertolt! Watch out!”

She was too late in warning him. Before he could even turn his head to witness her grand descent, she was already flying towards him, landing on top of him in a massive heap of limbs and wires. She could be grateful, at least, that her own blades were already sheathed, and that he had loosed his grip on his, sending them tumbling away before either of them could experience impalement for the first and final time.

“Oh, shit,” she groaned as she shifted herself off of Bertolt’s flattened back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Bertolt. My landing really needs work.”

“It’s alright, it’s okay,” he assured her, somewhat unconvincingly. The impact had squished him flat on the ground, and his long arms were crumpled uncomfortably beneath him. Not to mention the knot on his head that had immediately surfaced after he had landed face-first on the ground and smacked his forehead against a rock.

“Oh, my god,” she breathed. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really,” he muttered as he reached up a wary hand to skim over the goose egg now bulging like an alien was trying to break out of his skull. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, but it was a stupid accident. I should know better by now. I have to get better at landings.”

“Bertolt, are you alright?” Reiner stepped into the situation with a furrowed brow.

“I’m fine, Reiner. Just a little run-in.”

Even though Bertolt was adamant in assuring y/n that he was okay, she eyed him warily for the rest of the day, watching the knot swell to a disgusting size as big black and blue splotches gathered around it. He was checked for a concussion, but his brain seemed to be in proper working order, so he kept a cold pack pressed against his forehead in hopes that the lump would shrink down by the next morning.

“Heard you and Bertolt had a fun afternoon,” Jean remarked, so smug that it boiled y/n’s nerves. “That’s a real nice bump on his forehead. Did you land like a dying duck again?”

“Shut up, dumbass,” y/n argued. “I feel terrible about it. He kept saying he was alright, but that thing can’t be comfortable. It’s embarrassing.”

“How the hell are you number 14?” Jean doubled down as he took the seat right beside her. “Your academic score must be almost as high as Armin’s for you to be so high in the rankings.”

“My hand-to-hand combat score is in the top four, so if you would like to keep talking, I would suggest doing it at a distance, Kirstein.”

“Leave her alone, Jean,” Eren agreed quite loudly, obviously trying to weasel his way into the conversation so he would have a reason to battle with Jean again. Y/n appreciated the back-up, but the constant bickering between the two was getting on her nerves.

She excused herself from the table and walked outside into the evening air. The sound of hammering footsteps in the distance signaled that Sasha was making the rounds again, and the sound of haughty flirtation meant that Ymir was in the middle of another wooing session with Krista. Two more figures stood shadowed at around the corner, sheltered between the sloping roof of the mess hall and the high walls of the barracks.

Y/n knew immediately from the sheer heigh of the figure on the left who it was.

“Y/n,” Reiner called to her, flagging on hand in her direction to pull her into the conversation. “You saw Bertolt’s performance this afternoon. What did you think?”

“Oh, I—”

“Y/n, you don’t have to answer that,” Bertolt interjected hurriedly. As he turned to face her, she could only focus on the swelling knot on his forehead. “I’m sorry, Reiner just—”

“Bertolt is saying that he doesn’t think his performance is enough to secure his position in the top ten. What do you think?” Reiner entirely waved off Bertolt’s protest and y/n’s obvious distraction, crossing one arm over his chest and bringing the other hand to rest on his chin as though deep in thought.

“Um… Bertolt is really talented, I think. He seems to be a really well-rounded soldier. I think he’s more than worthy of being in the top ten.”

“You see? I told you, I—” Reiner began with a heavy clap to Bertolt’s shoulder, but before he could further embarrass his companion, someone called his name from afar. “I’ll be right back. You two keep talking.”

“Reiner!” Bertolt called in a sort of whispered shout before turning to y/n, praying that the shadow of the alleyway would mask the red of his face. “I’m sorry that he pulled you into this. Thank you for your kind words, y/n.”

“You’re welcome. I meant them, too. I wasn’t just saying it because Reiner was around. You’re really talented, Bertolt. I, on the other hand, could use some work.”

“What? You’re close to the top ten yourself. You’re doing a great job.”

“Bertolt, I landed on top of you today. I smashed you flat like a pancake. Have you looked in a mirror recently? There’s a knot on your head the size of a small titan.”

“Oh, I—well, that’s nothing. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, but it’s an accident that’s happened too many times before. I can’t land for shit. Last week, I nearly took out Eren when I tried to land beside him. I can’t imagine what would have happened to me if Mikasa had seen.”

Bertolt didn’t respond immediately. He could practically hear the proud thump of his heart in the uncomfortable silence that followed, but the proper words would not come to him. He didn’t know y/n very well, but she was friends with nearly everyone else in the 104th. She was helpful when she could be, and she watched her teammates backs when she had the chance. He wouldn’t mind getting to know her.

But he couldn’t. He wasn’t there to make friends. Bertolt remembered clearly the mission for which he had been selected, whether or not Reiner always did. Then again, with Reiner dipping in and out of conscious understanding of their situation, it would be nice to have someone else to talk to.

“Well, I should get back to the mess hall,” y/n began awkwardly, just at the same time as Bertolt asked, “Would you like me to help you?”

“Help me?” she clarified. “You mean with my landings? You don’t have to do that, I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste of my time. We could go out into the forest tomorrow, and I could show you a few tricks.”

“I would really appreciate that, Bertolt, thank you.”

~

Dear y/n,

I have thought about my family a lot in the past few years. I haven’t seen them since I left my hometown to complete the mission to destroy the walls. They don’t even know that I’m still alive. I suppose that I don’t know that, either. They could have all died in a house fire, and I would never know.

I told you the truth about them. Everything I said to you about my family was true, except for the place I grew up in. I did stay in the mountains inside Maria for some time, but that is not where my family is.

I was born in a place called Liberio. I wish I could show you sometime, but I fear what they might do to you if they found out you were from Paradis. I would never want to put you in a dangerous situation like that, but there are so many beautiful things about my hometown that I wish I could share with you.

There’s a market at the center of town where farmers and artisans gather to sell their products. Along the boardwalk are little shops that sell all kinds of things, from food to jewelry to books. You would love to see it all. I can see the light in your eyes, the excitement in your voice. It would be so lovely to spend a day with you there.

Sometimes, I dream of bringing you to dinner with my family so they can meet you, so they can see how wonderful you are. You changed my perspective on everything. I’m sure you could change theirs, too.

I doubt we will ever make it to Liberio together. I doubt that I will make it there myself before I die, but if you do get the chance to visit, please say hello to my family for me. Maybe they can take take you to see the ocean, if I never get the chance to.

All my love,

                                                                                                                            Bertolt

~

“Congratulations, Hoover,” Jean said with a thump on his back, jolting him forward with the unexpected force of it. Bertolt felt that he was constantly getting thumped on the back, or clapped on the shoulder, and he wasn’t sure how to stop it. It was all very friendly—he appreciated the camaraderie of it all—but he did not like the suddenness of it.

“Thank you, Jean. Congratulations to you, as well.”

“You beat me this time, but you’d better watch out. I’ll surpass you one of these days.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bertolt laughed uncomfortably. He was unaware of any soldier-ranking system outside of cadet training, and he doubted that Jean could realistically surpass years of his rigorous warrior training, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I suppose it won’t matter too much, once I’m safe in the Interior. Where do you plan on going?”

“Oh, I guess I—”

“Bertolt! Think fast!”

Bertolt whipped his whole body around and just barely managed to catch y/n as she hurtled through the air towards him, her arms wrapping around his neck and her legs around his torso. For all his hatred of sudden movements and touches, he had become quite accustomed to this odd ritual.

It had started as a joke, when he had first ventured deep into the woods with her for extra training. He had intended to teach her all his tips and tricks for landing with ODM gear, and though this task had been accomplished somewhere along the way, they had ended up exchanging advice for different types of training, opinions about other cadets, and even stories about their families and hometowns.

‘I wish I could teach you something in exchange,’ y/n had told him one afternoon, pouting as she kicked as a pile of split-open training bags. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing you need to work on?’

‘You don’t need to repay me. I’m happy to help. My reaction times could always be quicker, but—’

‘Maybe if your reaction time had been quicker, I wouldn’t have flattened you like a pancake,’ she had said with a laugh. The bump on his head was nearly gone at that point, but he remembered the smack of his skull against that rock and wished that he had seen her inbound before the collision. ‘Is there something I can do to help with that?’

He hadn’t been able to think of anything in the moment, but by the end of their training session that day, she had obviously come up with something on her own.

The first time she had run at him full-force, yelling, ‘Bertolt, think fast,’ he had not, in fact, thought very fast, nor had he caught her before she latched onto his back and sent them both tumbling onto the ground. This time, there was no rock for him to smack into, much to the relief of the both of them.

“I caught you,” he mumbled into her shoulder. Usually, she clambered off of him immediately after the reflex test was over, but this time, she was obviously quite excited to hang onto him.

“Good job, Bertolt. You caught me. And, you made number 3 of the top ten.”

“It’s thanks to you, probably.”

She scoffed as she finally set her feet back onto the ground, saying, “Don’t lie. I just attacked you a few dozen times. You were the one who got me from number 14 to number 12. That’s a pretty impressive leap.”

“It’s because you worked hard, y/n. Accepting help doesn’t mean that I did all the work for you. You had to really put in the time and effort. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you, too, Bertolt,” she returned, extending her hand for a high-five. “Do you think you’ll choose Military Police? I know that before, you said you weren’t really sure where you would go, but the appeal of getting in the top ten is that you can go live in the Interior. You have to promise you’ll send me a souvenir, though. Like some of those expensive cakes that they eat in Mitras. I don’t even know if you can send those by mail, but you’d better try.”

“I don’t know if I’ll go to the Interior, honestly. Reiner’s been talking about the Scouts, so maybe I’ll go with him.”

“But where do you want to go? If you want to go to the Scouts, you should go, but if you want to go to the Military Police, you should do that instead. You don’t have to do what Reiner wants to do.”

He did have to do what Reiner wanted to do, not only because he and Reiner were working towards the same goal, but because Reiner had not been entirely stable as of late. The far-off look in his eyes that appeared from time to time was concerning. The amount of times Bertolt had brought up their hometown, only for Reiner to assume that he was talking about Wall Maria, frightened him considerably. He not only needed to stick with Reiner for logistical reasons, but for personal ones. If Reiner was unwell, Bertolt needed to keep an eye on him.

“I’ll consider it,” was all he replied, and y/n seemed content with the answer, though he doubted she would drop it entirely. “What about you?”

“I think I’m going to join the Scouts.”

“I was hoping you had changed your mind about that,” he murmured aloud, more to himself than to her. “If this is because of Eren making all those speeches, then you should reconsider.”

“No, it’s not just because of Eren and his speeches. I don’t think I’d do well in the Garrison. I don’t like to just… sit around. Not that there aren’t engineers in the Garrison who do perfectly good work, but, you know.”

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that.”

He did understand. She had that type of personality, that natural curiosity that drew her to explore the outside world. It didn’t mean that he was happy about it, or that he didn’t wish she would accept a boring but ultimately safe life in the Garrison. Aside from the massive death toll characteristic of each mission outside the walls, Bertolt was unsure when he and his fellow warriors would be launching a new attack, and he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t have to fight his friends in the Scouts directly.

This was why he hadn’t necessarily wanted to make friends, but with y/n, it had been natural. She hadn’t been warded off by his shy temperament, nor had she been intimidated by Reiner’s constant presence in his life. She had directed her curiosity towards him, and he had found that he did not mind the attention, when it was from her.

“You’ll be safe though, right?” he asked her, and her face lit up.

“Of course I will. I have to be alive to respond to all the letters you send me, right?”

“Right, good.”

~

Dear y/n,

Do you remember the battle for Trost? I’m sure you do. It would be hard to forget something like that. I was so nervous that day, and yet, I was so sure that I was doing the right thing for the people of my homeland. When I looked down and saw you running away, tears in your eyes, I hated myself for it.

I did what I could to keep from hurting you. As soon as the wall was breached, I looked for you. When I found you, and you were unhurt, I was so glad. I was so happy to know that I hadn’t hurt you. When I’m all the way up there, I can see everything, except for the small things, except for the things that are really important.

I don’t want to manipulate you into thinking that I’m not a bad person. I am. Or, maybe I’m not. I’m not even sure of it myself. This world is so cruel, and I have had to be cruel to survive it, but does that justify the lengths to which I have gone to survive? Does that justify the cruelty I have enacted upon others? I don’t know.

I wish I could talk to you about this in person. You were always so comforting. You were always so kind. When I was with you, I felt like the world was alright. I felt like whatever I had done did not matter as much as what I was going to do in the future. You have such a beautiful perspective on life. You have such a lovely soul.

If we meet again, I want to thank you for changing me. You may not recognize that I have changed for the better. I’m sure that from the outside, it looks as though I am a villain. Perhaps I am, but I do not have that hatred in my heart.

If you are reading this letter, I hope that you do not hate me. I would not blame you if you do, but if I am allowed to be selfish, I would want you to love me.

All my love,

                                                                                                                                Bertolt

~

She knew she was going to die. There was no way she would survive this, for a second time. The first time she had seen the Colossal Titan, rising tall even above the 50-meter walls outside of her hometown, she had barely made it to the boat before the bridge had risen, before the Armored ran through the breach and breathed a stream of smoke and steam so hot she could see it bristling over the surface of the water.

Y/n tried to look for her family—her brother was dead, she knew that as soon as she saw the roof of his bakery smashed underneath a massive, pot-bellied titan with yellowing teeth, dripping fresh blood and bits of organs from its jaws. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen, but the Garrison soldier who dragged her to her feet gave her no time to look back before she was thrust onto the boat along with the last wave of passengers.

Now, staring up at the Colossal once again, she felt that same fear rush through her body like a crashing wave. She was older now. She was stronger now, and she should have steeled herself to face the oncoming threat, but as it shifted its huge bloodshot eyes to look in her direction, she felt like a frightened child again.

“No, no, no,” she said over and over like a mantra, like a prayer that this was all a terrible dream. “Please, not again.”

She did not stick around long enough to watch as it lifted its massive, sinewy leg and took down the gate just as easily as it had five years before. Y/n took off towards the district supply building, awaiting new orders, but she took one last look at the monster, at the expression on his face.

If such a disgusting mass of muscle and bone could express anything, she swore she saw some discomfort in its clenched jaw. There was an uneasiness behind its eyes. All titans somewhat resembled humans, despite obvious physical distortions and the lack of certain organs, but part of their terror was their sheer similarity. It was the emptiness behind a titan’s eyes that marked them as other, that separated them from the humans that fled from them.

The Colossal Titan did not have that emptiness. It was smarter than the rest, she was sure, but she dared not think that it could feel.

Y/n turned on heel and took off, searching for her friends amidst the chaos.

“Annie, have you seen Bertolt?”

“I don’t know,” Annie responded, without so much as turning to look at y/n as she spoke.

“I can’t find him, I—I hope he’s okay.”

“Bertolt is strong,” Armin assured her, though the look in his eyes suggested that he didn’t quite believe himself. “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

“I hope so.”

It was hours later when she finally found him, descending from a rooftop after felling a 10-meter. When she spotted him, she ran, not even giving him the courtesy of a think fast as she tackled him to the ground.

“Y/n, oh my god,” he huffed as they hit the ground. “You’re safe, you’re okay. God, I’m so happy to see you.”

“I didn’t know where you were, Bertolt, I was so worried.”

“I’m alright. But how is it that I always end up on the ground when you show up?”

She giggled as she moved off of him, saying, “Sorry. I just got excited to see you. I just… I’m just really happy that you’re safe. I was afraid I would never see you again.” She went to stand up, but his hands pulled her back down to the ground to sit beside him, if even for just a brief moment of peace before another titan clouded the sun above them.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I was worried about you, too. I’m glad you’re safe. I want you to always be safe.”

His admission was far too tender for the circumstance. She felt it warm her, lifting her expression into a genuine smile, but neither of them had time to assess the feeling. There were far more pressing issues to deal with.

“Let’s stick together, Bertolt. Okay?”

“Of course.”

~

Dear y/n,

I am so sorry.

I grieve every day for the life I could have had if I had not been born in Liberio, if I had not set out to become a warrior, if I had never received this curse. I grieve every day for the life we could have lived together. I am sorry that I can never give to you all that I want to.

Most days, I try to think of you in sunlight. I try to imagine you alive, with your head held high. I imagine you happy, surrounded by friends, never wanting for anything. I imagine you without me, because a future where we are together can ever come to pass. I know that I have to let you go, so I think of you living a fulfilling life where I am not present.

I can’t help that I dream of you, too. I can’t help that after I fall asleep, I see a future where we can be happy together. I dream of you on quiet rainy days, lying in my arms and reading a book. I dream of you visiting my hometown and meeting my father. I dream of him telling me how proud he is that I found someone so perfect to love.

I grieve every day for the happiness we could have had together, but I hope that you can still find that happiness without me. I know that you will. I know that you are strong.

All my love,

                                                                                                                                Bertolt

~

When she found him, he was trying his best not to be found. He had crouched to sit on a small box in the storage room, his height reduced by more than half as his knees rose to meet his chin. It was almost comical, had he not been in obvious distress. His face was pressed into his palms, his elbows digging uncomfortably into his knees.

“Oh, sorry, Bertolt,” she muttered absentmindedly, focused intently on locating the shipment of gas canisters she had been assigned to find. When he didn’t respond, she peered at him from behind a storage shelf. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” he answered quickly, pulling himself together and sitting upright, though it was hardly convincing. “I just needed a moment.”

“I hope I’m not intruding on your moment. I just need to find a box, and then I’ll be out of your hair. Unless you want to talk about it, in which case, I’m happy to stay and talk.”

“I don’t want to force my problems onto you.”

Bertolt was sincere in his statement, but there was an underlying deception that only served to further sadden him. He did want someone to talk to, but y/n could not know the full truth. He could only share so much.

“You’re not forcing them. I’m the one who offered to listen. Do you want to talk about it?”

He did not speak, but bit the inside of his cheek and nodded as she came to sit down beside him, pulling up a box that was a bit bigger than his.

“There,” she spoke as she settled uncomfortably onto the crate. “Now I’m the same height as you. We’re on the same level. That means we can talk about anything you’d like to talk about, and I won’t judge you for any of it. If it’s someone else who’s made you upset, though, I can’t promise I won’t kick their ass.”

“Thank you, but there’s no need to beat anyone up over it. I’m just worried about the future, I guess.”

“Anything in specific, or just the future in general?”

“When I joined the military, I didn’t think I would make any friends other than Reiner and Annie. Now that I know everyone, it’s hard to go into battle and think that anyone might die at any time. After Trost, I realized that I wouldn’t know what to do if you got hurt, or if you didn’t come back.”

“Hmm, I see. I understand what you mean. It’s hard to watch your friends go out and risk their lives for this. The world is cruel, but we’ve all made the same decision to do something about it. It helps to know that everyone knew what they were signing up for. It’s not like we were tricked into joining the Scouts. If I die out there, I will have died in pursuit of something I believe in.”

He couldn’t look at her as she spoke. Her confidence was enviable, but it was more than confidence. Connie and Jean were confident, but they were brash and loud. Eren was confident, but he was reckless. Y/n was sure of herself, and it showed in the even tone of her voice. It showed in the way she so casually spoke of her own fate, and in the way she looked at him unabashedly when he couldn’t even bring himself to make eye contact.

“I’m worried about Reiner,” he admitted, rushing the words out as though if he spoke fast enough, she might not hear it. She was a good listener, though, and as comforted as he felt when she accepted his fears with no judgement, he felt equally as vulnerable when he spoke about himself.

“Reiner is strong. He scored above you at graduation, remember? I’m sure Reiner can take care of himself. I know that you’re good friends, and it’s good to feel protective of the people you love, but if you truly trust him, you can trust that he will defend himself when the time comes.”

“I’m not worried about that. He’s… different. I don’t think he’s feeling well.”

“Oh. I see. Do you think he’s sick?”

Bertolt shook his head, becoming increasingly more desperate as he gained momentum.

“There’s something wrong with him, I think. Sometimes, he acts as though he’s a different person. He forgets things about our hometown, and about why we’re here.”

“Do you think it’s just his personality that’s changed, or do you think it’s some kind of mental illness?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him act like this before. I don’t even think anyone else notices it, because no one else has known him as long as I have. I try not to call him out on it, because I don’t want to startle him or embarrass him, but I’m afraid that he’ll forget who he is. I know I have to help him somehow, but I don’t know how. If I can’t help him, what will happen to him?”

Y/n’s brow furrowed as she hummed in thought, resting her chin in her hand and idly looking across the shelves, as though the answer to all of their problems could be found amongst the rations. Bertolt was innately nervous—he called himself a coward, but she could hardly agree to that—so it wasn’t uncommon for him to express his anxieties to her. Usually, a bit of honest reassurance and a few jokes would lighten his mood, and he would be back on track.

The look on his face was concerning. His lips downturned, his eyes watery and wavering, his arms clutching over his stomach—he looked as though he was going to be physically ill. She wasn’t sure if he wanted someone to listen, someone to advise, or someone to take action.

“Bertolt, I have to be honest with you,” she eventually settled, extending an open palm towards him as though coaxing a frightened animal. “I don’t know what to do in a situation like this. I don’t know Reiner like you do, but I know that you are someone he trusts implicitly. If you think it would help to talk through it with him, you should at least try.”

“Hmm,” Bertolt grunted. He wished to say something more astute, but the words would not come to him.

“But something else that you should consider, is that you are not fully responsible for Reiner.”

“But I—”

“You’re his friend. You’re a fellow soldier. If you want to help him, that is very admirable. I’m sure he’s grateful to have a friend as caring as you. But ultimately, if this is some kind of mental or medical issue, you’re not a doctor. You can help him and encourage him, but you can’t cure him. Do all that you are able, but don’t feel bad about what you can’t do. I’m sure Reiner would understand.”

“There has to be something I can do,” Bertolt uttered weakly. His voice broke as he spoke, and he felt pathetic.

He wasn’t only a soldier, but a warrior. He had surpassed dozens of other children his age, trained and studied ceaselessly, so that he might keep his father safe and make his homeland proud of him. He had been granted the power of the largest titan. With his transformation alone, he could destroy entire cities. With a single step, he could crush thousands.

What was he, when all of that was taken away? Bertolt Hoover was a whiny, nervous young man with no ambition. At least Reiner had the confidence to be a proper soldier and a proper friend. Even when he wasn’t armored, Reiner was strong beyond belief. The only reason Bertolt had made friends at all was because of Reiner. What would Bertolt be, if Reiner was no longer Reiner? Annie was in the Interior, and Marcel was dead. He would be alone. He would be only Bertolt, and that was certainly nothing impressive.

“Look at me, please,” y/n whispered as she took her outstretched palm and gently tapped her fingers on her underside of his chin. “Bertolt, you’re so sweet. You’re so good. We’re all so lucky to call you a friend. I think that might be the best thing you can do for Reiner. Be a good friend to him, like you already are. Don’t blame yourself. It might be hard to watch your friend go through something like that, but it’s not your fault. Understand?”

“I… I guess so.”

“That’s not a solid answer, Bertolt,” she admonished him with a laugh. Her hand still rested under his chin, and he found himself seeking the warmth of her palm like a cat leaning into a pet. “Try again?”

“It’s not my fault. I understand.” He wasn’t sure how, but he knew in his heart that he meant it.

“Good. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped you at all, but if you ever want to talk like this again, I’m always happy to talk to you.”

“Yes, you helped,” he rushed to tell her as she stood to finally gather the gas canisters. “I’m sorry I kept you so long. I hope you don’t get in trouble.”

“Ah, I doubt it,” she said as she stood and rolled her shoulders, cracking her arms behind her back. “I know I just spent the last few minutes telling you that other people aren’t your sole responsibility, but if I could borrow your height for a second—”

“Oh, of course!”

He hurried to his feet and carried the box down to her from the top shelf. Once it was safe in her arms, she gestured for him to lean down, so he did, learning to his right as though preparing to hear a secret. Instead of speaking, she planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Bertolt. Sleep well!”

“Oh, I—goodnight, y/n. Sleep well.”

She was already gone before he could reply. He was glad, though. He could not see his face, but he knew that it had to be bright red.

~

Dear y/n,

                 I don’t remember exactly when it was that I fell in love with you. It was a collection of little moments, I think. Maybe it was the first time you fell on top of me during training and flattened me like a pancake. I always thought it was funny how you described it the same way every time. “Flattened like a pancake” was such an odd phrase to me, but I grew to love it the more I heard you say it, and the more you actually did it.

I miss the times when I would hear you call out my name before running to leap on top of me. It was the first time I felt like someone was truly excited to see me. That was something that made me fall for you, too—physically and metaphorically, if you’ll pardon my bad joke.

I remember the morning I slept through breakfast, and you covered for me when Shadis yelled at me. You saved me one of your rolls from your breakfast so I wouldn’t be hungry during training. I remember asking you how I could repay you for your kindness, and you said that you didn’t do it in exchange for anything, but because we were friends.

There was the day we did training in the forest, and even though we were on opposite teams, you cheered for me when my team won more points than yours.

You listened to me every time I spoke to you, and you always gave me thoughtful advice. You knew when I needed to hear something serious and heartfelt, or when a joke would cheer me up. You knew when I needed space, or when I needed to be held. I could never understand how you knew what I needed without asking. When you said it was because you loved me, everything made sense. I knew what you meant, because I loved you too. I still do.

You are the only thing that has ever been mine.

When you said that you were mine, I couldn’t believe it. I don’t deserve to have you, but you told me over and over that you were mine, and that you would choose to be mine every day. You said that you would choose to be mine, even if I wasn’t yours. I didn’t know how to feel about that. I thought you must be crazy to think like that, but I accepted it, because I wanted you to be mine.

I gave up my body for my homeland, cut my life short so that my father could live in peace while I fought for a country that hated us. I dedicated my mind to my studies and to strategy. Every drop of my blood that was shed was shed for someone else. When I became a warrior, I no longer belonged to myself. When I became a soldier again on Paradis, I signed away my life and pledged devotion of my heart, but I never gave it. How could I, when you could take much better care of it?

All that I was belonged to someone else, but my heart belonged to you, and you were mine.

All my love,

                                                                                                                                Bertolt

~

Y/n had experienced her fair share of injury, but none of it was ever quite so painful or humiliating as the day she got smacked right out of the sky by one of the smallest titans she had ever seen.

The titan looked a bit like Armin, if she was being honest—shoulder-length blond haircut, big blue eyes, unimpressive height. That didn’t take away from the uncanny grin it bore on its distorted face. That didn’t detract from the terror she felt as it ran for her on its wrong-jointed legs, catching her at the exact moment she had intended to restock her gas and blades.

“C’mon, c’mon, shit,” she swore. As long as she could replace her gas, she could get away. She didn’t need to kill it, just to evade it until she could get some space. As soon as she had slid the new canisters into her gear, she pushed herself up from the ground to reach a nearby ledge that would just barely clear the titan’s head, but the little runt was too fast. It whacked a pudgy hand through the air in an arc just wide enough to smack y/n clear out of the sky.

She landed face-first, head smacking the dirt with an uncomfortable thump that rattled whatever brain she had left inside her head. The titan didn’t pursue her, though, and y/n could only guess that some other Scout had stumbled upon her misfortune.

“You owe me, dumbass,” Ymir said as she made her landing just beside y/n, having split open the titan’s nape mere seconds before. “You’re going to let that fucking thing kill you?”

“Maybe,” was all y/n whispered before she blacked out.

When she came to, the sounds of voices blurred all around her. She couldn’t tell who was around her, or how many there were, but she could pick out at least a few distinct tones.

“I’m sure she’ll be awake soon.”

“She got hit pretty hard, though. Right Ymir?”

“Yeah, idiot got smacked out of the sky. She’s lucky I was there to take care of it.”

“Ymir, don’t be cruel. Accidents happen, and you’ve had your fair share of incidents with titans.”

“She’ll be okay though, right?”

“She’s not dead. Look, you can see that she’s breathing.”

“Right. But after that, what if she… she won’t be permanently hurt, will she?”

“No, but she’ll have one hell of a headache.”

She did have one hell of a headache, so much so that she didn’t want to open her eyes, but she figured that she would put her friends out of their misery.

“Look, she’s waking up,” Jean announced, a bit too loudly for her comfort.

“I’ll go get some painkillers.”

Krista rushed from the room, but every head remained fixated on the pitiful patient laid out on the medical cot, squirming uncomfortably at both the pain and the attention. Aside from Jean and Krista, Ymir was also there, as was Bertolt, who sat closest to her with his arms folded on the edge of her cot.

“Y/n,” he whispered, unsure of what to say but burdened that he ought to say something to her. “You’re awake.”

“Mmhmm, I am.”

“I was really worried about you.”

Bertolt kept his voice low. He knew that the others could hear him, but he wished they would all turn away. He wanted to be selfish in that moment, to have all of y/n’s time for himself. When Ymir had showed up at the base with y/n slung over her shoulder, he had panicked. She had looked dead. When Ymir had slung her down onto a medical cot, and he had finally found her pulse when he pressed two fingers to her wrist, he had nearly wept with relief.

“I’m alright,” y/n sighed dreamily, stirring only when Krista returned with the painkillers. “I got whacked.”

“You did, you got whacked. You hit the ground pretty hard.”

“Yeah, that hurt really bad. I got… I got flattened like a pancake.”

Despite the worry that still sat heavy right at the center of his chest, he smiled. He was so wrapped up in her that he did not notice the others, smiling knowingly at one another before leaving them be.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hmm, the painkillers are helping. I feel all stiff, though. I landed funny on my arms.”

She lifted an arm and for the first time realized that her hand was wrapped in gauze. Her other arm appeared unscathed, but the sting suggested that she had skidded heavily against some rocks before making her landing.

“They had to pull some twigs from your arm,” Bertolt explained to her, taking her hand in his when she winced at her own movement. “You were pretty beat up when Ymir brought you back, but thankfully, it’s nothing that they couldn’t fix.”

“I still have all my limbs?”

“You still have all your limbs, yes.”

His thumb rubbed soothing circles against the back of her hand as he peered at her, looking up through his pretty lashes. He was awfully pretty. His hair had grown in the last few months, but she liked it. The ends fell in front of his face and softened his sharp features. His nose was elegant, aquiline. He could have been a noble, living in the lap of luxury in the Interior, but instead, he was a soldier at her bedside, holding her hand and batting his eyes and looking at her as though she were the only luxury to covet.

“You need to be more careful next time,” he admonished lightly. “You could have died.”

“I’m alright, Bertolt. Just a stupid mistake. I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Please, don’t scare me like that. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

“I’m sure you’d be alright. I’m nothing to get all worked up over.”

“You are. You mean so much to me, I—y/n, I can’t explain to you how much you mean to me. I care about you more than anything. I want to protect you, and keep you safe. I want… I want to do something stupid, y/n.”

“Hmm? What kind of stupid?”

“I don’t know. But it’s like you told me, weeks ago—confidence isn’t about always getting everything right. Confidence is about making a choice that I believe in, regardless of the consequences.”

“Alright. Should we get a healer first, then? Are you about to do something medically dangerous? I suppose it helps that we’re in the medical wing.”

He didn’t answer. Before she could question him further, he had already planted a soft kiss to her lips and backed away embarrassed.

“Wait—don’t leave, Bertolt, come back,” she called after him. He had already begun standing up, assuming the worst.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I shouldn’t have done that when you’re not feeling well. I probably shouldn’t have done it at all. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Bertolt, don’t leave. Please, come back.”

“You should rest. I did something stupid, and now I have to go figure out how I can make it right afterwards.”

“Bertolt, I want you to do it again.”

“What?”

He froze mid-step. Her bandaged hand was latched onto his shirt, lightly tugging at him like a small child, begging him to stay but not having the strength to force him. He stammered. He couldn’t process the fact that he had just kissed her, much less the fact that she wanted him to do it again.

Did that mean she liked it? Did that mean she liked him? Surely, there was no other reason to request a kiss besides attraction, but she had suffered a head injury earlier that day. Perhaps she wasn’t in her right mind.

“I want to go back to sleep, but I want you to stay here with me. Will you give me another kiss before I go back to sleep?”

“I—yes, if that’s alright with you.”

“It is. I’m the one who asked for it.”

“Okay, then.”

He took his seat beside her again, shaking with nerves but buzzing with the anticipation of it. The first kiss had been so brief that he could hardly appreciate it, but however brief, it had managed to make him feel like he was floating, drifting through the air unanchored and unburdened. The second kiss was a bit longer, a bit firmer, and she accepted it with a smile on her face.

“Thank you, Bertolt. Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, y/n. Sweet dreams.”

~

Dear y/n,

I don’t know how much you know about my homeland. I don’t know if you’ve ever even heard of it. There’s a lot more going on than you might think, and a lot of it is not pleasant. I am hated there, so is Reiner, so is Annie. The only reason we can live decent lives is by becoming warriors. If we use the power of the titans to protect our homeland, our families can live in peace.

The world is cruel. I doubt I need to remind you of this.

When you asked me about the ocean, I began to believe that the world was beautiful, too. I dreamed of taking you for a walk by the sea, watching you in the sunlight, watching you laugh as you played in the water.

I wanted to tell you that I have visited the ocean before, and that it is very real. All that Armin said about it is true, but words and pictures can’t capture the way it makes you feel. I took it for granted before I lived on Paradis. I should have appreciated it more while I had the chance.

I’m sure that you all will find it, someday. I wish I could be there to see the sunshine on your face. I know you will be beautiful.

All my love,

                                                                                                                                Bertolt

~

“Y/n, stay close to me.”

“I’m right behind you. And I also have my very own swords, so I’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Bertolt agreed reluctantly. When he turned to illuminate her face by the light of his lantern, she was grinning up at him. Even in shadow, she was lovely. “But it helps to know that you’re close. Stay with me, please?”

“I will,” she promised, quietly so that no one else could hear. “Lucky for me, you’re easy to find in a crowd.”

The length of their cloaks concealed their hands, held tight and swinging between them as they walked the perimeter of Wall Rose. Since their first kiss, they had come to the mutual decision that pursuing a steady relationship would be unwise. That didn’t mean that they refrained from holding hands whenever possible, and sharing the occasional kiss when circumstances allowed.

Bertolt knew he was living on borrowed time. The Survey Corps was closing in on Annie. Titans had appeared within Wall Rose, and though there was no breach to speak of in the wall itself, Bertolt was almost sure he knew exactly what had happened to the inhabitants of Ragako Village. He hadn’t been able to look Connie in the eye.

When he had watched Ymir transform, he knew that he was in the midst of a problem that he and Reiner could not handle alone. All the time he had spent idle, savoring the time he could pretend he was not a warrior, was long past.

It drove him mad to know that y/n was still holding his hand, despite all that he was, despite all that he would inevitably have to do.

Didn’t she know? Couldn’t she tell? She looked into his eyes so often, telling him that their color was so beautiful, that he seemed to hold so much love in just his eyes. Couldn’t she see behind it all? Surely, she could tell that behind all the love he held for her, there was a boiling mass of guilt that weighed his every action.

“That’s so strange,” she mused quietly as she lifted her lantern, illuminating yet another untouched portion of the wall. “I don’t see anything, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Hold on—there’s a little spot up there. See it?”

“I think so. Right above that brick?”

“Yes, right there. Lift me up, please?”

He ducked down, allowing her to clamber on top of his shoulders, as she had done several times before. She liked to use him as a ladder at times, or as a step-stool, and he happily obliged just to feel her close, just to hear her giggle as he adjusted her to sit on his shoulders.

“Hmm, I think it was just a trick of the light. You can put me down now, Bertolt, thank you.”

He carefully hoisted her down, letting her stop on the way to place a grateful kiss to his nose. They walked in silence for the next few minutes, enjoying the calm of the evening after such a chaotic day, but Bertolt still could not quiet the unease that sat in his stomach.

“Y/n, I think that things are about to change,” he said, forthright and confident—he had nothing to fear in her presence. He did not have to dilute his worries in front of her. “Today was difficult, and I think it’s only going to get worse from here.”

As she turned to him, her face was broken into shadow in the low light, her furrowed brow and scrunched nose creating shadowed planes across her pensive face.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. I’m not even sure what to think about everything that happened today, honestly. It’s kind of scary. I guess that’s what we signed up for, though, right?”

“Yeah. Right. But y/n, if something happens to me, you’ll be okay.”

“What? Don’t talk like that, Bertolt. I don’t want to think like that right now.”

“Look at me, please,” he said, tugging on her arm to catch her attention. The dark sheltered them from the prying eyes of their friends, so he pulled her to his chest. “I’m not saying that something will happen to me, or that something will happen to you, but if it does, you’ll be okay.”

“I know. I will be okay. I try to be prepared for it. I know that it’s coming. Not all of our friends will make it out of this alive, and I know that, but it’s hard to think that it might be you. You’ll try your best to stay alive, though, right?”

“I will, if that’s what you want.”

“I do, but I want you to want that. You should stay alive for yourself, not for me,” she playfully admonished him, burying her forehead into his chest and relishing in the sound of his beating heart. “And if I’m the one who dies first, I want you to be okay.”

“I don’t even want to think about that, y/n, I… I love you. I love you, and I want you to be safe.”

“I love you, too.”

It was the first time they had exchanged those words, but it hardly felt out of the ordinary. It was more an observation that anything, as though recognizing that the sky was blue or that the sun was bright. Had they never said it aloud, it would not have made it untrue.

The world was cruel. Bertolt knew this as well as anyone. But as long as there was love to be found in the quiet corners of the world, he could find a reason to survive it.

~

Dear y/n,

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

~

“I’m the Armored Titan, and Bertolt is the Colossal.”

Reiner had well and thoroughly lost it, and no amount of damage control that Bertolt could muster would save them from the confrontation that would inevitably take place. He gritted his teeth and tried to convince his friends that Reiner was telling a poorly-timed joke, but the tension had already risen beyond breaking point.

He didn’t want to transform. His transformation wasn’t a pleasant experience, nor was the aftermath of it all, but for a brief moment, Reiner had been restored.

Reiner had turned to Bertolt, looked him in the eye, and told him that he intended to fulfill the mission for which they had trained for so many years. In that moment, he was Reiner Braun, Marleyan Warrior, hero to his family and his homeland. It had been enough to convince Bertolt to follow through.

“Are you a soldier, or are you a warrior?” Reiner had asked him, leaning in close before the wall erupted in a flash of light.

Now, all he could see below him was rubble and steam. Little figures buzzed around the wall like flies, but he knew that none of them could come close to him with the sheer amount of heat that radiated from him. He was disgusting, and he knew it. The Colossal Titan was not strong and terrifying like the Armored, or lithe and quick like the Female or Attack. He was a mass of open muscle and bone. He was ugly, and his actions were as well.

Through the chaos, he could not see the single figure that pressed forward towards him, held back only by her comrades.

“Y/n, you can’t get any closer, I’m sorry,” Jean yelled to her through the noise. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“No, no, please,” she gasped. The heat was sweltering on her skin, but she knew she could get closer. Even if she could get close enough to look him in the eye, maybe she could do something. “Let me go, let me see him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Connie shouted. “He’s the enemy, now. He’ll kill you if you get any closer.”

He wouldn’t. She wanted to believe that, but she couldn’t she sure. If she was enough of an obstruction to his mission, would he crush her? Would he bury her in rubble and leave her to be eaten by a meandering titan?

“Bertolt!” she shrieked, but the sound did not reach him. He was too far away, and he was too far gone.

~

Dear y/n,

I think I am losing myself.

Do you remember what I told you about Reiner? He seemed like two different people at times. I couldn’t explain it to you properly then, but I understand it now. He couldn’t reconcile the respect he had for his fellow soldiers with the terrible things he had done. There were times that I looked at Eren, knowing that it was my actions that led to his mother’s death, and I wished that I could separate that from myself, that I could be an entirely new person who had never committed such atrocities.

I feel the weight of my actions now more than ever, but I do not have the luxury of losing my mind. I am all too aware of the things I have done, and the things I must do.

If there is ever a way I can make any of it right, I pray that I will have the courage to take that chance.

All my love,

                                                                                                                                Bertolt

~

Bertolt had been right about the ocean.

Even if he had tried to describe it, y/n was sure that nothing could compare to the feeling that bubbled in her chest, the way the sunlight shined like gold across the laughing faces of her friends. She couldn’t help but smile herself, despite the sadness that weighed heavy on her with every step across the shore.

They had been talking about eating Bertolt as though it was the only option. The Commander should eat Bertolt, Armin should eat Bertolt, someone had to eat Bertolt.

They could have let him live, she thought. They could have waited until he had woken up, tried to bargain with him. He could keep his life, if he would come back to Paradis.

She knew it was an untenable position. No one would have listened to her if she had spoken it aloud. She only would have been mocked as a lovesick fool, but she was alright with that. Being a lovesick fool had kept her alive that long; surely, it couldn’t hurt to live in that delusion a little longer, at least.

When Armin—the thing that was supposedly Armin—had crawled onto the rooftop, she had closed her eyes and covered her ears like a frightened child in a thunderstorm. She didn’t need to see how Bertolt fought to get away, or to hear how he cried out for help in his final moments.

“You’re thinking about him,” Mikasa spoke up from beside her. “Don’t.”

“I can’t really help it, can I?”

“You two were close. I’m sorry that things happened the way they did.”

Y/n couldn’t blame Mikasa for her nature. She wasn’t one to dilute her opinions or hold back her emotion, particularly where Eren was involved. Bertolt’s death was just another number in among the hundreds who had died to keep Eren safe, and while y/n couldn’t disagree with Eren’s importance, she wasn’t keen to look over the incident entirely.

“I know, Mikasa. I’ll try not to think of it too much. And if I do, I’ll only use it to push forward. That’s the only direction we can go from here, right? We can only go forward.”

“That’s… an admirable way to look at it.”

~

Dear y/n,

I can hear you outside the wall. Even when you’re shouting, your voice is so pretty.

I don’t know if I’ll live through the day, but I want you to know something important. Even after I am dead, my memory of you will live on in the next colossal titan. For thousands of years, anyone who inherits this power will see you in their memory.

They might not know who you are, or why they remember you, but they will know that you are brilliant and beautiful and kind. They will know that you are loved, and they will know that I loved you.

I hope that this will keep you safe. I hope that the next doomed fool who takes this power will recognize you, and will protect you.

The fighting outside is getting closer. I don’t know how this will end. I don’t know what I will do, even in the next few seconds, but I am reassured by the sound of your voice. As long as I can hear you fighting, I can know that you are still alive.

I hope that you will not have to see me as I die, but I want your face to be the last thing I see.

I have said it before, but I will say it again, and I will say it as many times as I can before I die: I love you.

I love you, and I hope

~

She tugged uncomfortably at the strap on her waist, the one that kept her skirts from falling to her ankles. It was a bit too snug, but she couldn’t afford to be picky, under the circumstances. She was already unaccustomed to wearing skirts at all, given that her usual attire consisted of knee-high boots and gear straps.

She stuck beside her group for the most part, not wanting to get lost or discovered in such a dangerous place, but she couldn’t help but linger around familiar places.

Y/n had never been to Liberio, of course, but she could recognize all the little details Bertolt had described in his letters. She had long since given up the wish that he could be there with her, but as she looked over the marketplace, the pang of yearning struck her suddenly.

“He loved you,” Armin said, low but clear even under the noise of the bustling street.

“Armin, I—”

“I mean, he really loved you. He loved you.”

“Armin, that’s—”

“He thought about marrying you, and spending the rest of his life with you. He thought about running away with you, and—”

“Armin, that’s enough. Thank you for whatever it is you’re trying to do, but every time I look at you, I have to try to forget that you consumed the love of my life, and you’re not making it any easier on me.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again, please.”

Armin left her alone, but she could feel his sympathetic gazes on her for the rest of the day. She could never be sure exactly how much about her that Armin knew, or how much he felt for her. He didn’t seem to retain quite the same feelings that Bertolt had for her, but sometimes, when he looked at her, there was a curious softness to his eyes.

Armin didn’t love her, but he knew what loving her felt like.

Y/n clutched the roll of paper that she had hidden in her bag. She hadn’t told anyone that she had it, but it wasn’t their business anyway. She wasn’t even sure where she would put it—throw it in the ocean, perhaps, or leave it in a tree hollow. It would never reach its intended audience, no matter where she put it.

It wasn’t until they reached a quiet corner of the city, hidden away from the markets and the boardwalk, that she found the right place. A row of simple plaques set into stone, honoring the warriors who had given their lives for Marley, sat in the middle of an unimpressive garden, behind an unexciting building. It was clear just how little the Marleyans regarded Eldians, even when bestowed with the power of the titans, even when their blood was spilt on foreign ground and in lonely places.

She pulled the note from her bag and buried it just beside the stone, under a bush where likely no one would be digging it up.

Dear Bertolt,

I’ve made it to your hometown.

I read all of your letters, and there is so much that I want to say to you. I don’t know if I can ever express it to you in words. When we sat together in silence, that was always enough. None of the words I spoke to you ever meant as much as the time we spent together, as the unspoken conversations we had.

I don’t know that I will ever understand what you did or why you did it, but I don’t need to. By this point, I have done plenty of things that I am not proud of. I know now that in the coming days, I will have to do terrible things. I am doing it to survive, as I always have. I am doing it for the lives of my friends, and the lives of all those on Paradis. I know that if you could read these words, you would understand.

Liberio is beautiful. The people here are lively, and the market is full of little treasures that I would love to bring home with me. I’m sure I will leave with my pockets full of souvenirs. I understand why you would want to protect this place.

I wondered if I might meet your father while I am here, but I don’t think it would be wise to look for him. If he is still alive, he might still be in danger simply because he is Eldian. I am having a hard enough time concealing my own identity. I would not want him to be caught up in our schemes. I would like to tell him that he can be proud of his son. I would like to tell him that you died defending your friends and your home, and that even when lost in a land of strangers, you managed to find love and beauty and small moments of peace.

Most importantly, I want to tell you this: I loved you, I love you, and I will always love you.

Your sins are not so great that they could ever erase that truth from my heart.

I do not know what awaits any of us after death, but if there is a place where I can meet you again, wait for me there. I’ll come find you when my time is through. When we meet again, we can forget all of it. I will forgive all that you have done, if you promise not to judge me for what I now must do.

Until then, rest in peace, and know that my heart is yours.

                                                                                                                             All my love,

                                                                                                                                 Y/n