“Yes, there are multiple titans and multiple people can be said titans. Some people of Eldian descent manifest their forms when they’re young and we’re taught to hide it. It isn’t exactly something that’d be accepted by society. A few of us are titans. Eren, Reiner, Bertl, Annie, and myself are all examples of this,” Armin explained with more clarity. “Mikasa knows because she grew up with us and dated Annie. We didn’t wanna tell you four because it’s hard to believe. And we didn’t want you to think we were crazy. It was already really hard for us to make friends and then you all happened along.”
Marco nodded, processing this information quicker than the other three.
“Okay I get that but why did you hunt us? We’re friends!” Marco asked Ymir.
“You hit me with your fucking car!” She narrowed her eyes at the two.
That got Reiner and Eren cackling again, though appointed stare from Ymir shut them up fast.
“It was an accident, but what did you think would happen when you pulled that Exorcist bullshit on us?!” Jean retorted.
“You literally stood in front of the car,” Armin agreed, earning another pointed glare. “What? They caught the entire thing on video. We saw what you did.”
“All of it?” Ymir replied, her face paling. “You recorded that?”
“Everything from us hitting you with the car to us escaping the park. Thanks for turning our car into a convertible by the way,” Jean gave her his best icy stare. It was then he felt himself start to go light headed as the alcohol started to kick in.
“You ran over my hand!”
“You turned into a deer, then transformed in front of them, and then called them food, how did you think they were going to react?” Annie gave Ymir a dull stare.
Historia craned her neck to look at her nervous girlfriend. “If all of that is true, you’re so in the doghouse.”
Ymir’s anger subsided as embarrassment started to seep in.
“Some of it might be true…” She admitted.
“All of it is true,” Jean confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hey, I got you two to finally become a couple!” Ymir defended herself. “Oh, did you tell your boyfriend that you kissed me?”
Everyone’s faces turned to Jean who turned a deep shade of red.
Marco tilted his head in confusion. “You did what now? Is that why she asked of you wanted to kiss again?”
Jean’s face flushed crimson and he actively avoided everyone’s gazes. “I thought it was you and that was before I figured out she was the Jaw Titan.”
Eren snorted once more but a quick glare from Jean ended that.
“That still doesn’t answer the question of why. Why did you do that?” Marco asked, wrapping an arm around Jean’s waist.
Now it was Ymir’s turn to avert her gaze, while she turned pink. “I knew you were in the area and liked titans. Thought I’d have some fun with a practical joke…”
A silence fell over the room while everyone processed that information.
Eventually Marco sighed and replied, “Thank you but please don’t ever play a prank on me or Jean ever again.”
“Okay,” Ymir agreed before yawning.
“So,” Historia spoke up, glancing between her girlfriend and the new couple. “Is everyone on the same page and we have no hurt feelings?”
Jean immediately shook his head. “Oh I got some feelings, but when that car is fixed and we get our shit back I’ll start to feel better.”
“Yeah, yeah, but are y’all fine with us being titans and shit?” Ymir wondered, gesturing to the bulk of the room.
Marco and Jean gave each other wary glances, while Connie and Sasha shrugged their shoulders.
“We’re fine,” Connie confirmed so all eyes fell on Marco and Jean.
“Give us some time. I mean it’s cool for me because I love cryptozoology but Jean…” Marco started, before Jean placed a hand on his shoulder and silenced him.
“I’ll get over it but I’m both pissed and terrified right now,” Jean clarified. “It’s been a really long day.”
The titans in the room nodded in understanding.
“Oh, before I forget!” Historia perked up, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a card sleeve. She threw it over like a Frisbee at Jean and Marco who caught it. A quick inspection revealed it to be two hotel room cards. “You two have your own room a few floors up. It’s the least I could do to apologize for Ymir. It’s private and had a nice big bed.”
“Thank you!” Marco immediately perked up. He stretched his arms before standing up to get his arms. “I don’t know about you guys but we’re exhausted. Catch everyone in the morning?”
A quick glance at the window showed the sun beginning to rise.
“Make that the afternoon,” Jean corrected, joining his boyfriend on his feet.
Everyone moved out of the way for them to leave and get some much needed rest.
Much to Jean’s surprise the new room proved to be bigger than their friends’ room, complete with a king size bed and its own television across from the bed. He immediately flopped onto the bed.
“Jean, that’s disgusting! We’re dirty…” Marco frowned, though the idea of joining Jean was very appealing to him.
“They’ll change it in the morning. Come on, we’ve earned this rest.”
Marco sighed but knew there was truth to his boyfriend’s words. Rather than argue with him, Marco stripped out of everything but his boxers and jumped on the bed.
“You’ve also earned some other things,” Marco informed Jean, winking at him. Watching Jean turn red with embarrassment never got old for him. “Now get out of those clothes so we can relax.”
“Yes, sir!” Jean felt a surge of energy and he disrobed down to his boxer briefs, joining his boyfriend in bed.
Both embraced each other before sleep lulled them off, cuddling until their strength returned to them.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Ch Summary: Jean finds himself unable to celebrate his last night before Shinganshina, too caught up in his own memories to even register the bliss. He barely even registers Sasha going mad from the food. Marco comes to his rescue and salvages the night in ways Jean didn't expect before they ride out to reclaim Shinganshina.
Excerpt:A yawn escaped Jean, rousing him from his slumber. He felt a weight slung over his side and a comforting heat from his back. His eyes fluttered open to see the candle on his nightstand completely melted. Memories of the previous night replayed in his head, sending blood rushing to his cheeks and a little further south. A gentle smile came to his face when he heard Marco mumble behind him. Marco’s arm pulled him closer.
Jean glanced around the room as he savored the sweet embrace. He giggled at the mess around the bed, their clothes tossed about.
A loud knocking at the door stirred him from his stupor. He barely had enough time to slip from Marco’s grasp and pull the blanket over him before the door swung open to reveal a rather annoyed Levi.
“Oi, Kirschtein, there you are. You missed the officer briefing this morning,” his former captain informed him with a pointed glare. His cold eyes took in Jean’s bare chest. He quirked at eyebrow at the marks that dotted his collarbone and wrinkled his nose at the scattered clothes.
“S-sorry, sir,” Jean apologized, his voice ragged from the night before.
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “We leave just before dusk and head for Shinganshina under the new moon.”
Jean nodded but Levi continued.
“Both your squads will be in front since you and Armin are familiar with the territory.”
“Both, sir?” Jean asked, trying to feign ignorance.
“Unless your ass grew ten sizes last night that’s Bodt in bed with you. That or he left his uniform here and went streaking. Make sure you tell your squads before we leave this afternoon.”
Jearmin Week Day 7 Free Day Gods and Cursed Blowjobs
Summary: A fallen goddess returns to the world and its up to Jean and Armin’s group of friends to stop her. In the process they learn that Ymir and Marco have been hiding a few big secrets as well as the source of their new powers.
Day 1 Day 5 End
“Congrats Marco, you condemned the world to hell just to get laid. I hope it was worth it,” Ymir glared at the druid, taking a large bite of the ham before her.
Marco’s face darkened while he quietly chewed on a salad. He swallowed and answered, “Yeah, it was.”
Eren hid his crimson face in his hands, exhaling a small puff of smoke.
Mikasa nibbled on her bread while patting Eren’s back.
“I can’t believe someone out-stupided Armin,” Ymir scoffed. She paused to think about it and laughed loudly. “At least that can still make me laugh.”
The mention of the story caused Armin to almost choke on some food. Connie, Sasha, Eren, Marco, and Mikasa all glanced at the shy wizard who saved them.
“Huh?” Connie asked the question on everyone’s mind.
“It’s nothing,” Jean stated harshly, killing the subject before it could evolve. “He saved my life just like he saved yours. We should really be thanking him.”
Connie and Sasha exchanged suspicious looks but didn’t say a word.
“About that. So we saved him and he saved us? I don’t like being duped but I guess we’re even,” Connie changed topics.
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re all handsomely rewarded for your troubles during Armin’s rescue,” Historia walked out of the kitchen with another set of plates. “Once Ymir and Marco are back to strength we can go home.”
Armin’s eyes fell at the mention of Eldia. He almost bucked when he felt a pair of hands squeeze his. The familiar touch soothed his nerves.
“Yeah, sorry about dozing off for a few weeks,” Marco apologized, polishing off his salad. “I feel much better.
“You’re sorry?” Ymir narrowed her eyes at Marco. He sheepishly looked at his clean plate. “I saved your ass. I teleported Trost back to this realm. What’s your excuse? You fucked Jaeger. Repeatedly.”
Eren groaned. “I said I was sorry!”
“You were under mind control, it’s okay,” Marco gingerly pat Eren on the back.
To Jean’s surprise, Eren leaned into the touch.
Just then, Mrs. Kirschtein returned with several bags of fruits and vegetables.
“My, my, you’re a hungry lot,” The older woman smiled at the group in her house. “I’m glad to see everyone is awake.”
“Thank you for the food, miss,” Marco bowed his head.
“Yeah, it’s very delicious!” Ymir agreed.
Jean’s mother set the fruits and vegetables down on the counter, walking over to the table. She wiped her hands on her apron as she looked over the group.
“I’ve met the others but I don’t think I know your names?” Mrs. Kirschtein questioned Marco and Ymir. “You slept for quite a while.”
“I’m Marco, a druid from the north,” Marco smiled, exuding warmth.
“And I’m Ymir, resident heroine and Eldia’s best knight,” Ymir grinned cockily.
“Like the goddess? Your parents must’ve been very devout,” Mrs. Kirschtein commented, returning to the vegetables.
“They were something like that,” Ymir chuckled along with Marco, both exchanging a knowing look.
Before the group could get into further discussion, the clanging of bells across town echoed into the house. Everyone stopped their eating and stared at Jean.
“Shit, we need to go. Now,” Jean gestured to the door. The others nodded and followed him out into the city. “Thanks mom!”
“Anytime, Jeanbo!”
Jean groaned as his friends cracked goofy smiles, none daring to laugh out loud. “Moooooom! I’m all grown up. Just call me Jean…”
His mother shook her head. “You’ll always be Jeanbo to me.”
Swatting his hand in the air, Jean exited his house and made his way for the plaza. He heard his friends trying- but failing- to hold in their laughter. Once they got far enough away from the house, the group started cackling at Jean’s expense.
“Jeanbo?” Eren spoke, wiping a tear away from his eye.
“Don’t you fucking start, Jaeger,” Jean pointed a finger at him. “Or do I need to remind whose ass is responsible for this?”
Everyone stared at the evening sky, their jovial mood fading. Among the stars and moon of the night sky, crimson bled around the horizon and gave the night an eerie atmosphere. Dusk had long since passed.
“Low blow,” Eren frowned.
“Just like Armin,” Ymir broke out into another round of laughter.
Armin’s face tinted pink, earning confused looks from Eren and Mikasa.
“Seriously, what happened?”
“N-nothing,” Armin pressed his lips together.
Marco studied Armin for a moment and then observed Jean. His eyes met Jean’s for a moment but he didn’t speak.
Torches lit the plaza as citizens gathered around the raised platform usually reserved for the town crier. Standing atop the platform were two guards in white platemail along with the mayor of the city. When Jean and his friends approached the platform, Jean recognized one of the guards as Erwin from Eldia.
“Citizens, we have dire news,” the mayor began. “I’ll let these fine soldiers explain.”
“Thank you, sir,” Erwin nodded. Clearing his throat, he faced he crowd. “I must keep this brief. As many of you know the kingdom of Marley is the remnants of the empire of the fallen goddess Maria. Their one and only goal for the last thousand years has been her resurrection in hopes of returning to their former glory. Unfortunately that goal has been achieved. Either through sorcery or back magic they’ve revived her.”
A swift elbow into Marco’s side caused him to grunt. He turned to see Ymir glaring at him.
“Her army now marches for Eldia, the former home of her sister Ymir. She plans to destroy our city as revenge for Ymir. I come seeking aid for the oncoming battle.”
Loud murmuring arose from the crowd, the civilians debating amongst themselves.
“Now I know Trost is still licking its wounds from their last battle with Marley, but everyone here knows the fate that awaits those who Maria attacks. The fallen goddess won’t stop until she’s plunged the entire world into darkness and decay. We must stop her now! Who’s with me?”
“We are!” Eren shouted, causing everyone around them to face them.
Erwin quirked an eyebrow but smiled as he recognized the group.
“Eren, Mikasa, Ymir, and… Princess Historia? We’ve been looking for you for weeks,” Erwin chuckled. The news of the Eldian princess earned a few gasps.
“Ymir has been protecting me,” Historia shrugged, causing her girlfriend to flex an arm.
“Clearly. I also see you made some new friends,” Erwin glanced between Jean and his friends. His eyes fell on Armin, who he spotted shrinking behind Jean. “You even have Armin the White among you. Glad to see you’re in good health.”
Armin nodded but didn’t reply. Eren and Mikasa faced Eren, shock written in their expressions.
“You earned a title? And the White?” Eren muttered. “How and why didn’t you tell us?”
“He sucked-” Ymir began before Historia covered her mouth, much to Armin’s relief.
“He forsook land and country to save a life,” Erwin stated. “We’d be honored if you joined us in the battle.”
“Honored?” Armin replied, shocked by the proposition. “But…”
“Banished or not, we’re in no position to turn down willing allies. Especially dragonslayers,” Erwin pointed to the skeleton from their previous fight laying in plaza. “At least I suspect that was you and Jean.”
Armin nodded, feeling lightheaded at the offer to at least fight for Eldia. Perhaps it was a chance to redeem himself.
“I’ll do it!” Armin shouted, saluting Erwin.
The crowd roared at others mimicked Armin’s gesture.
---
“You’re banished?” Eren asked again as the group gathered their belongings.
“Yes,” Armin muttered, his face a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment. “I didn’t want to worry you guys about it.”
“Its okay,” Mikasa spoke, embracing Armin. “We’ll go with you wherever you go. And you can tell us whenever you’re ready.”
Ymir snorted but a glare from Jean silenced her.
Marco stepped forward, grabbing Jean’s arm and pulling his sleeve down. He studied at the markings on Jean’s arm. Black runes wrapped around his arm while a shield with blue and white wings rested atop the wound from the dragon.
“Marco?” Jean mumbled, a bit concerned by Marco’s odd behavior.
The druid then walked over to Armin. “Please show me your tongue.”
Chewing on his lip for a moment before obliging, Armin stuck his tongue out for Marco.
Marco squinted at the seal, mumbling a few words. His eyes glowed a dull gold before widening. Turning back to Jean he stared at the seal. Bouncing between the two seals, Marco’s mouth fell.
“Are you okay?” Jean questioned.
“You… how… Ymir, he didn’t,” Marco looked to her for confirmation. She grinned widely.
“Now you’re catching on,” Ymir nodded. “Took ya long enough.”
A blush flashed across Marco’s cheeks. “But you know what this means, right?”
“Yup. We can actually kill her this time.”
“Kill who?” Jean gave Ymir a suspicious look, unsure about this conversation. “And how exactly do you two know each other?”
The two freckled people shook their heads.
“This dumbass is my brother,” Ymir admitted.
Jean glanced between the two. “Really? But he’s so much nicer than you…”
Ymir glared at Jean and shrugged.
“Ymir is nice,” Marco defended his sister. “She has everyone’s best interests at heart.”
“Yeah, underneath all her interests,” Jean rolled his eyes.
“Insult me one more time and I’ll tell everyone how your boyfriend earned his title,” Ymir threatened. “It’ll give a whole new meaning to Armin the White.”
“Ymir, stop,” Historia frowned, causing Ymir to scowl.
While Jean and Ymir continued to squint at each other, Armin approached Marco. He laid a shaky hand on his shoulder.
“When you saved Jean you unknowingly bound yourselves to Maria. Your powers are the direct result of hers,” Marco explained.
“What?!” Jean’s mouth fell.
“Technically, you’re her warriors,” Marco informed them, causing the rest of their friends to look at them nervously.
“But we can’t be. I mean, we just killed another of her dragons,” Jean balked at the thought.
“Yes but that’s the amazing part. You both still have your freewill. Unlike others that are bound by her beliefs and desires, you two can do as you please,” Marco explained while waving his hands around.
Armin bit his bottom lip, focusing his eyes on Jean’s seal. “You mean I undid her corruption? How?”
“Honestly I can only guess. There’s no necromantic energies in either of you two… just natural magics,” Marco stated as his eyes widened. “Wait. No.”
Ymir tilted her head for a moment. “Natural magics? The fuck does that mean?”
“Magic derived from plants and animals,” Marco answered, staring at his hands.
“But that’s your domain, not Maria’s,” Ymir frowned until a realization dawned on her. “No. Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. They’re yours?”
Ymir rubbed her temples. “How? It’s her curse!”
“Yes, but we’re twins. Similar magics. It was always possible but I never thought we’d share servants,” Marco smiled, clapping his hands together. He started bouncing on his feet at the thought. “I have followers!”
Everyone besides the two freckled people exchanged confused glances.
“Can someone please explain what’s going on? You lost me when you mentioned Maria,” Connie crossed his arms.
Ymir sighed. “Short version: When Armin saved Jean by making those seals, he used Maria’s powers against itself. By doing that they got godly powers on accident. However they get their powers from two gods: Maria and her twin brother.”
Jean scrunched his face from confusion while Armin processed the thought.
“Maria has a twin brother?” Armin asked first.
Nodding, Ymir gestured to Marco. “Meet Maria’s completely forgettable and unassuming twin. Also your god. Congrats, you’re his first actual servants.”
“Hey!” Marco punched her shoulder. Rather than dwell on the insults, Marco stepped forward and hugged the two boys with seals. “I can’t believe I have followers!”
Everyone froze from shock as they processed that information.
“M-Marco is a god?” Jean managed to speak.
“Your god,” Ymir snickered.
“But if he’s your brother… then you’re also…” Jean paled at the thought.
“Yup!” Ymir cackled. “The one and only Ymir! Take it in mortals.”
Jean muttered a few curses while Armin continued to piece the information together in his head.
Historia stepped forward, falling to her knees. “My goddess.”
To Jean’s surprise, Ymir scowled at the sight. “Get up, Historia. I have no interest in people worshipping me just like my idiot brother. Besides, I’m the only one who gets to see you on your knees.”
The group fell silent, everyone’s face blushing red. Even Historia felt embarrassment and shame creep up her back.
“But, what does that have to do with killing anyone?” Armin wondered, circling back to the original topic.
Marco and Ymir smiled, letting out sighs of relief. Marco continued to explain, “Only one’s own power can kill a god or goddess. Servants use fractions of their god’s powers. This is why we’re not so gung-ho about making contracts with every little person. However, the more one shares power the more influence they wield and the stronger they become in turn. That’s why Maria imbued her power into a curse. She never expected anyone to be smart enough or talented enough to undo it though.”
“Which means what?” Connie interjected again.
Ymir grinned widely, “Meaning Jean and Armin can kill a goddess. Or Marco. Whichever they prefer.”
Marco’s face whitened at the thought. “Please don’t!”
“Never!” Jean vehemently shook his head at the thought.
Ymir laughed at her brother’s expense. As the others began to understand what was explained to them, they heard her comment. “This is so fucking hilarious.”
“How? The world is on the brink of ending,” Historia asked.
“Yes but if this works the legends will be so great,” Ymir relished the through, earning a suspicious stare from Jean. “To think, a cursed blowjob might save the world.”
“A cursed what?!” Eren shouted, causing Armin to turn as crimson as the sky.
Summary: Jean and Armin go to liberate Trost from the Marleyans, finding their friends brainwashed. When victory seems to be in sight, Bertholdt does what he does best and ruins their day.
Day 1 Day 4 Day 6
“Seriously, it’s not a hard concept,” Jean shouted, pulling his sword out of a Marleyan soldier. The body crumpled to the ground as Jean turned to slice at another attacker. “What part about ‘quietly’ don’t you understand?”
A massive claymore cut through the shield of another soldier, splitting the armor and the man underneath it. Ymir kicked their body off her weapon while wearing a crazed smile.
“All of it. Where’s the fun in stealth?” Ymir rolled her eyes. She spun to slay another guard, successfully clearing the gate to Trost.
“Fun? I’m trying to liberate my hometown here!” Jean said.
“I get that but how exactly are you going to sneak into this,” Ymir gestured to the battlefield around them. The city guards fought the oncoming army, though they were trapped outside the gates. “Armin, your turn.”
Armin and Historia ran out from some nearby bushes and joined the two fighters. They averted their gaze from the dead bodies.
“I’ll try but I’m not Eren,” Armin stated. He ran a hand along the wooden gate debating the best approach.
“Thank the gods,” Jean muttered. He looked back over the field, still not seeing any signs of his friends. When Armin mentioned that an army marched on Jean’s hometown they made a beeline for it. Rumors of Jean’s companions among the Marleyan solders left Jean unsettled. They never returned from the castle but at least they were alive. Hopefully.
“Just use your mouth. Put that new magic to some use,” Ymir chuckled, causing Armin to blush. While Jean and him discovered some of their new abilities on their way to town, Armin still felt unsure about his skills.
Muttering an incantation, he touched his dragonbone bracelet and inhaled deeply. When he released the air in his lungs, a stream of fire flew forward. Flames pressed against the gate. Crackling wood sizzled until the fire breath seared through the gate. Armin closed his mouth, cutting off the spell. He burped out a tiny cloud of smoke, quickly placing a hand over his mouth.
“Perfect, great work,” Jean complimented him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. He gave him a peck on his cheek before running through the newly created hole.
Armin gingerly pressed a hand to his cheek until Ymir ran by.
“Let’s go, lover boy,” Ymir teased. She grabbed Armin by the arm and ran into the city.
Unlike the chaos outside the walls, the city remained intact and suspiciously untouched. The immediate streets around the entrance were deserted, though a bonfire glowed against the setting sun in the town center. With a destination ahead, the group ran forward.
As the group walked to the center, they noticed a large gathering of scared civilians. Jean tightened his hand around the hilt. To his surprise a patrol circled the civilians. Finally internalizing the concept, Ymir pointed to the shadows. They huddled behind objects and approached stealthily.
Jean gasped when he realized his friends patrolled the perimeter together with two of the warriors he met the night he rescued Armin. To his surprise he saw no other soldiers.
“Are you going to keep crawling around in the dark or will you join us?” A loud voice greeted them from behind. Jean’s eyes widened when he saw Eren leering over them. So much for stealthy approach.
The patrol at the center of the town stopped to stare at the commotion.
“Goddesses be damned,” Jean cursed, earning a scowl from Ymir.
“Eren?” Armin asked, peering into his friend’s eyes.
“Oh you came too, ‘Min? And you brought the princess. Perfect,” Eren gave a toothy smile.
Armin narrowed his eyes, muttering some words. A yellow spark popped from his fingers.
“What’s going on?” The tall blond brute with an axe shouted at Eren from the town center.
“Found some guests for the ritual.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Jean whispered to Armin, slowly getting to his feet.
“He’s under some sort of charm, a very powerful one at that,” Armin informed the group. “See that necklace he’s wearing? It’s acting as a conduit for the spell.”
Under the evening sun, the group saw a gem glinting around Eren’s neck.
Jean looked back at the group approaching them and took a headcount. “Blonde bitches 1 and 2, Connie, Sasha, and Mikasa. I think we can take them if the stories about you are true.”
Ymir scoffed at the notion, “Please, I’m so much more.”
“Armin, can you take Eren? I don’t see Marco but if he doesn’t show we’re good.”
Ymir quirked an eyebrow at Jean but didn’t say anything.
“Yeah, I know the extent of his abilities. Remove the conduits and the spell fails,” Armin reminded the warriors. “Theoretically.”
“Charge!” Jean shouted, catching the attention of the civilians in the plaza.
“Bold strategy, Jeanbo, let’s see how that works out for you,” Connie smirked, drawing two daggers. He sprinted towards his friend along with the blond man.
“You really think you can take us, Ymir?” Reiner taunted, keeping pace with Connie.
“Easily,” Ymir replied. To her surprise Jean ran ahead of her. “Hey!”
“That blond bastard is mine. Can you handle the girls?” Jean requested.
“Oi! Just because I’m-”
“It’s not that! I’ve seen their swordsmanship and they might kick my ass.”
“Oh,” Ymir’s anger changed to pride. “In that case, sure. What about the chick with the lute?”
At the end of the street, Sasha glared at the group while strumming on a lute.
“She’s moral support, don’t worry too much about her,” Jean advised. While Sasha’s music usually enhanced their skills, she wasn’t playing those songs at the moment.
“Pay attention or you’re gonna get smashed,” Reiner yelled at Jean, preparing to swing his axe at him. Before he could land the blow, Jean pulled a fist back. A purple light glowed under the sleeve of his jacket. He sent a punch into Reiner’s side, launching him upwards into the second floor of a nearby building with ease. “The hell-”
Connie tried to slow down, stunned by the impressive display of strength. Jean continued his charge and threw himself at Connie. He tackled his friend through a fruit cart, smashing him into a wall. Connie grunted from the pain, dropping his daggers.
“Sorry but you’re not leaving me much choice,” Jean apologized. He grabbed the necklace around Connie’s neck and pulled it over his head. He chucked the necklace down the street, sending it soaring out of the city. Glancing as his hand, Jean clenched his fist. He needed to get a grasp on his newfound strength.
Further up the street Armin and Eren circled each other.
“You really should join us ‘Min,” Eren extended a hand. “It feels so amazing to not hold back. I don’t have to hide my heritage anymore.”
Eren clenched his fist and a small ball of fire erupted upwards.
“You never had to in the first place,” Armin frowned. “This isn’t you.”
“What do you mean I didn’t have to? Those Eldian scumbags judged me every day! Don’t think I didn’t see them scorn us for just existing. We’re survivors, ‘Min! Come join us and we’ll help Marley end this century’s long war.”
“Never,” Armin declined, taking a deep breath.
“Then die!” Eren shouted, snapping a finger and sending flames towards Armin.
Acting on instinct, Armin released a powerful torrent of water from his mouth. It smothered Eren’s fire and stunned his friend. The rush of water swept Eren down the street and onto his ass. Not giving him a chance to recover Armin muttered another incantation. His tongue tickled and his hands glowed purple. A purple sheen surrounded Eren’s necklace. Armin waved his hands and the accessory flew off his childhood friend and smashed into a wall.
Turning his attention down the street, Armin’s eyes widened when he saw Ymir standing over the fallen bodies of Mikasa and Annie. Ymir stood triumphantly with a foot on the two girls while a girl with a lute strummed ferociously from a little further away.
Armin pointed a hand at Mikasa’s necklace, causing it to start emanating purple light. Rather than toss it, Armin pulled it hands apart and the jewelry ripped in half. Next he turned his attention to the necklace around the lute player’s neck. With a flick of the wrist the necklace flew into the night sky.
Sasha stopped her strumming, falling to her knees. She grabbed her head.
“Ow…” Sasha groaned.
“Woo, victory!” Ymir declared, flexing her arms as Historia ran up to hug her.
Jean helped Connie to the ground while Armin ran over to Eren. Both friends were knocked out but otherwise appeared normal.
Suddenly, a column of red energy erupted around the walls of the town, encasing the city.
“What the hell?” Jean glanced around the city.
Armin stood up, frantically spinning around. “No, no, no, no!”
“Armin? What’s going on?” Jean ran over to the panicking wizard.
“Bertholdt’s doing it again! This is what happened to Shinganshina!”
The blood drained from Jean’s face as adrenaline began to rush through his veins. He drew his blade and looked for the mage causing this trouble.
The sky changed from a menagerie of pinks and oranges to a solid crimson, the setting run replaced by three all too familiar moons.
“Godsdamnit,” Jean cursed. He flinched as a purple light glowed from his forearm where the dragon wounded him. When Armin recoiled from pain, Jean instinctively wrapped an arm around him. He noticed a similar purple glow coming from Armin’s mouth.
A loud roar echoed through the sky. Everyone looked upwards to see a massive dragon soaring. It circled the town center, slowly descending towards the civilians. On its back stood Bertholdt surveying the crowd below. He had someone sitting next to him.
“Reiner, Annie?” Bertholdt called out, trying to find his comrades.
“They’re a bit preoccupied,” Ymir shouted at him.
He squinted at her, tapping the dragon. It landed on a tower looming over the square.
“Ymir? I should’ve guessed,” Bertholdt sighed. Shaking his head, he frowned. “Oh, you brought the princess? Interesting but not entirely unwanted.”
“You son of a bitch!” Jean cursed loudly.
“Why, Bertl? Wasn’t Shinganshina enough?!” Armin joined the chorus of criticism.
Bertholdt’s eyes widened, his face tinging pink. “You two are alive? How? Actually never mind, at least you’re clothed this time.”
Armin’s anger faded into embarrassment.
Ymir paused to turn and give the boys an incredulous smile. “Clothed? Did you do more than suck-”
“Ymir, focus!” Jean interrupted.
“Oh, right. Reverse your spell Bertholdt and I won’t break you like a twig,” Ymir threatened. “Maybe an arm. But not your neck.”
“Very tempting,” Bertholdt shook his head. “How about I keep you all here and condemn you to your deaths instead?”
Bertholdt grabbed the body next to him and raised Marco over the plaza.
Jean’s blood ran cold. “Marco!”
Ymir’s cocky expression fell at the sight of the druid. “Oh shit.”
“You know, it took much longer than it should’ve to realize no ordinary druid could go toe to toe with me in magical combat,” Bertl began. “What really gave it away was when my specially crafted necklaces had absolutely no effect on him.”
“Drop the prissy druid and give up,” Ymir frowned.
Shooting Ymir a look of disbelief, Jean walked towards the plaza with Armin.
“I’m sure you’d want that Ymir, but not when I’m this close to fulfilling my contract,” Bertholdt smiled widely. “The seal is finally weak enough.”
Marco opened his tired eyes, briefly surveying the plaza. “Hey, Ymir…”
Even from below Jean could see his friend looked absolutely exhausted.
“What did you do to him?” Ymir asked, her voice a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Wore him out with a little help from Eren. Who knew he’d actually be useful for something besides blowing stuff up?” Bertl chuckled.
Ymir looked at Eren’s groaning body and then back to Marco.
“Jaeger? Really?” Ymir pinched the bridge of her nose. “You had two jobs, Marco. Two! And you failed both.”
“Sorry, Ymir,” Marco replied, offering a dopey smile.
“Commune with nature to maintain the seal and celibacy. How hard is that?”
Marco shrugged. “Living in forest for so long weakened my resolve.”
“I swear to me… it’s not that hard!”
Marco frowned slightly at Ymir. “What about you? The Eldian princess? Really?”
Ymir opened her mouth but no words came out. A dark blush hid her freckles.
Clearing his throat, Bertholdt brought the attention back to himself. He revealed a dagger and floated upwards with Marco. “As I was saying, I have a fallen goddess to bring back to the world. Fritz, if you would?”
Bertholdt plunged a dagger into Marco’s neck, causing Jean to reach out. “No!”
The dragon bellowed again, focusing its attention on the plaza.
“Toodles,” Bertholdt flew away with Marco’s bleeding body as the dragon climbed downwards.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Ymir muttered, her claymore suddenly vanishing. She bent down to kiss Historia on the lips. “Arlert, Kirschtein hold off the dragon. I need to stop Bertholdt before he ends the fucking world.”
In a move that surprised those watching, Ymir floated off the ground and flew off after Bertholdt.
Shock seized Jean’s muscles, still processing his best friend being murdered before his eyes.
“Jean… Jean!” Armin jostled Jean from his thoughts.
“I’m… I’m here,” Jean replied quietly. He swallowed a lump in his throat, gripping his blade. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”
“Me too,” Armin agreed, but looked at the dragon. “But we need to stop that thing first.”
Jean glared at the dragon, memories of the previous battle rushing forward.
While bigger than the last dragon, this one seemed to be in the same state of decay. Holes punctured the webbing in its wings, while rotten flesh exposed bones and ribs. Magic may have animated it but Jean and Armin were determined to return it to the ground.
“You still have that telekinesis spell?” Jean asked as the two walked towards the plaza.
Armin’s hands glowed brightly as he clenched his fist. “Yeah. What’s the plan? Please tell me you’re not going to get eaten again.”
“What? No,” Jean shook his head, laughing at the thought. “Throw some rubble and get its attention. I’m personally cutting its head off for attacking my town. Then I’m going to do the same to all the Marleyans who did the same starting with Bertholdt.”
Shrugging off Jean’s sudden bloodlust, Armin pointed to the broken food cart and threw it at the dragon.
The cart shattered against the beast’s scales, successfully lodging a few splinters into the mushy flesh. Turning its attention to the pair approaching it, the dragon opened its mouth. A noxious gas blew from its nostrils before a dark green, stream blasted towards Jean and Armin.
“Acid!” Armin shouted.
“Hold on!” Jean pulled Armin close and crouched. He held up his arm and the purple light turned white. In a bright flash an ethereal shield appeared in front of the pair. The acid slammed into the shield, hissing against the magic. Despite the powerful blast, the magic held. When the acid breath stopped, to the surprise of the citizens in the plaza, Jean and Armin were unharmed. The street surrounding them melted under the attack but they were fine.
“…did you know you could do that?” Armin whispered as the shield faded, a bit stunned by the sudden spell.
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Jean pressed his lips together, trying to contain his nervous chuckle. When Armin shook his head he let his bravado fall. “No but I don’t know if I can do that again. We need to slay it fast.”
Jean held his blade forward, almost dropping it when he noticed it glowing blue.
Armin pulled out his dagger, noticing it had a similar reaction. “Of course, what better weapon to slay a dragon than dragonbone?”
“I don’t know,” Jean admitted. “But if this thing is good against it care to give me a boost?”
Armin nodded, holding his glowing hands forward. “Caution to the wind then.”
“Huh?” Jean said when his body glowed. He was thrust through the air towards the dragon. “Shit!”
The dragon opened its mouth to try and catch the flying target.
Jean held out his sword, déjà vu flooding his mind.
Armin lowered his hands so Jean avoided the attacked. Instead he maneuvered Jean beneath the dragon, his blade slicing the dragon from chin to belly. Armin ended the spell, sending Jean tumbling behind the undead beast.
The dragon roared as its acidic guts spilled into the streets. If it weren’t undead that might’ve been a fatal blow. Instead it turned to face Jean, leering down at him with hollow eyes. It slammed its tail into Jean.
“Oh hell no,” Jean grabbed the tail, successfully catching it. When the dragon tried to pull its tail back, it couldn’t break free of Jean’s grasp. “That isn’t happening again.”
Jean yanked the tail away from the dragon. To the surprise of everyone including himself, the dragon whipped around and into a nearby house. The tail detached from the dragon. Jean stared at his hands before dropping the disgusting appendage.
The dragon shook off the blow and barred its teeth at Jean. It snapped its mouth at Jean, who dropped his blade and caught the dragon’s bite. He grabbed its fangs to stop it from crunching him. The light from his wrist now glowed blue.
Jean looked down the throat of the undead dragon, flashbacks returning to him. This time though he smelled noxious fumes before a dark green stream seeped forward and shot out at him.
“Fuck me,” Jean yelled as acid rushed forward.
“No!” Armin screamed. His tongue prickled again and a dark purple light enveloped his hands. He pointed at the dragon, its entire frame glowing a dull purple. He pulled his hands backwards. The dragon slid back a few yards before getting stuck. “Give me Jean!”
Sweat slid down Armin’s forehead as he focused on an image of the dragon, his hatred and fear driving him forward. He pulled as hard as he could, the desire to save Jean spurring him on.
A loud tearing echoed around the plaza, muscle and sinew giving away under the strain of magic. With a mighty yank the dragon’s body flew back over Armin’s head and crashed into the street, sliding into the town gate. The head remained in place at the center of the town.
Armin ran forward, adrenaline driving him. He heard loud gasping from the plaza. As he arrived, he dropped to his knees. Exhaustion ran through his body as the magic around his hands faded. Historia knelt down by him.
“Armin…” Historia glanced over his body.
“Jean!” Armin called out, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.
“Yes?” Jean replied, stepping out from a noxious cloud in front of the dragon’s head. While shirtless, Jean otherwise looked unscathed. “Was that you who pulled on it? I thought it was trying to get away so I held onto the fangs.”
Armin’s face fell, disbelief written all over it. “You’re alive?!”
Jean looked over his body and shrugged. “Yup.”
Armin ran to Jean, embracing him as he held back his tears.
Suddenly, bright white light enveloped the town just as the red light did earlier. The citizens clung to each other as the ground rumbled and the sky changed from a crimson red to the familiar black. To Jean and Armin’s relief, the three moons faded into the starry night.
A brief purple light flashed over Annie’s body and from one of the wrecked houses, her body disappearing.
Another purple light flashed by the square, this time Ymir appearing with Marco’s body slung over her shoulder. She fell to her knees panting. Marco rolled off her.
“Marco!” Jean ran over to his friend, his heart stopping. He let his arms fall limply to his side.
“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m just peachy,” Ymir groaned from the ground. Historia quickly came to her side. “Hey, babe.”
Armin rushed over to Jean.
“H-how?” Jean mumbled.
“I’m… I’m good,” Marco offered a weak smile, passing out shortly after.
“Bullshit,” Ymir spat back, slumping over as exhaustion took hold.
---
Fires crackled around Trost’s plaza as festive music filled the air. When Trost returned to the world, the invading army disappeared. Dead guards and civilians alike were mourned and buried. Not letting their sacrifice be in vain, the living celebrated Trost’s victory and its brave rescuers. While Ymir and Marco recovered under Historia’s constant supervision, Jean and Armin toasted with the civilians at the celebration
“To the brave men and women who gave their lives so we may be here,” the mayor held up a mug of beer.
The citizens raised their glasses. “Here, here!”
Jean and Armin sat next to each other, mimicking the gesture. Jean began to down his drink while Armin sniffed the concoction. His nose wrinkled from the bitter smell.
“How can you stand to drink this?” Armin frowned, offering his cup to Jean.
Chuckling at Armin’s innocent reaction, he replied, “It’s an acquired taste. Not everyone is as picky as you.”
“I’m not picky!” Armin frowned, pulling his drink back. To prove his point he took a big gulp of the beer, his face immediately souring at the taste. “Yuck!”
“Told ya,” Jean rolled his eyes, sipping his drink.
The joyous music gradually faded and a slower tune began to play. Some people, mostly couples, stood up and walked to the square. They embraced each other and swayed to the somber tune.
Seeing an opportunity, Armin grabbed Jean by the arm and pulled him towards the plaza. “Come on!”
“Huh? Wait-” Jean barely set his beer down before he found himself pulled by a rather strong Armin. Did the bookish wizard actually workout?
Armin wrapped his arms around Jean’s neck and held him close.
Placing his hands on Armin’s hips, Jean tried to follow the rhythm of the song.
The boys eventually found the beat of the music, joining the others in swaying along. Rather than pay attention to those around them though, Jean and Armin focused on each other’s’ eyes. Warm amber peered into curious blue. Pressing their foreheads together, they smiled gently.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Jean mumbled.
Armin pulled his head back, tilting it. “Huh?”
“I said you’re beautiful!” Jean tried again, getting drowned out by the music.
A puzzled smile came to Armin’s face. He shook his head, “I can’t hear you.”
“I said,” Jean took a deep breath just as the music faded. “You’re beautiful!”
Everyone in the plaza stopped what they were doing to look at the couple. Jean’s face flushed red as people he recognized stared at him, some smiling- others confused. Trying to hide his embarrassment, Jean buried his face in the crook of Armin’s neck.
Armin laughed at the reaction, pretending he wasn’t blushing furiously at the loud compliment. “You’re gorgeous too.”
“You bet he is,” a female voice agreed, its tone warm and sweet.
Armin looked for the source and found a tall but lanky woman approaching. She had long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail with a warm smile on her face.
Jean peeked out from Armin’s neck for a second before a shocked expression took hold. His eyes widened and he paled upon seeing the woman.
“M-m-m-mom?!”
“Welcome home, Jeanbo,” his mother opened her arms as she approached. She did a once over of Armin, causing the boy to stiffen. “And who is this handsome gentleman?”
The wry smile told Armin that Jean’s mom asked a rhetorical question.
To Be Continued on Jearmin Week Day 7 Free Day Gods and Cursed Blowjobs
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
Many regrets haunted Jean during his time at the Survey Corps. Between the countless split-second life and death decisions only one truly tugged his conscience repeated: the loss of Marco in Trost. He often wondered what would’ve changed if his friend had lasted the battle, but he never expected to see that thought play out with a minor caveat…
AKA Jean Kirschtein is thrust into a world where most of the events he’s familiar with played out except one key fact, Marco didn’t die in Trost. He did.
Excerpt:
“Marco! Lure it towards us. He only wants you right now,” Jean shouted.
Upon hearing Jean’s words, Marco swallowed a lump in his throat. He fired an anchor into a tower as he flew past it. Allowing his momentum to carry him, Marco swung around the tower and back towards his friends while the titan gained on him. It tripped over itself as it tried to chase Marco back in the direction it came from.
“Ok, get ready!” Marco shouted. He saw Jean and his squad perching themselves on some buildings. Landing in the street near them, he turned to face the noble titan. His legs trembled at the sight before him. Moments like this made him question why the military chose white pants for their uniforms. Perhaps it made seeing injuries easier. For Marco he was pretty sure his pants were going to be yellow at any moment. Or brown.
When the titan dove for Marco, he attempted to fly away.
“Now’s our chance, go!” Armin shouted.
Jean, Armin, Connie, and Sasha attacked the legs like Armin stated earlier. All four landed their blows successfully. The brief sense of accomplishment died when they heard Marco shouting.
“Let go of me!” Marco yelled. A large hand wrapped around his body, pressing a hand and blade into his side. With his free hand, Marco tried uselessly to cut himself free.
The sight of Marco trapped in the titan’s clutches froze the blood in Jean’s veins. His heart and throat clenched as panic surged through his body along with adrenaline. Rather than be immobilized by fear, instinct propelled him forward.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Fic Summary: Many regrets haunted Jean during his time at the Survey Corps. Between the countless split-second life and death decisions only one truly tugged his conscience repeated: the loss of Marco in Trost. He often wondered what would've changed if his friend had lasted the battle, but he never expected to see that thought play out with a minor caveat...
AKA Jean Kirschtein is thrust into a world where most of the events he's familiar with played out except one key fact, Marco didn't die in Trost. He did.
Ch Preview: “Marco, if you’re trying to do this to get Jean’s forgiveness then you’re doing it wrong,” Armin sighed.
Jean’s mouth went dry at the mention of his name. Why were they talking about him now? A soft thud from inside drew Jean’s attention back to reality.
“It’s not for his forgiveness. It’s to get our teammate back,” Marco replied, taking another crunch of something.
“He gave his memories so we could live. At the very least I owe him this.”A sigh emerged from inside.
“Marco, I can’t tell if you’re trying to lie to me or yourself,” Armin admitted. “This is Jean we’re talking about. Not Connie, not Eren, and certainly not the captain. I’ve seen you grow and change after Trost, when Jean died. These last few months since this Jean came to us have been the most happy I’ve seen you in years.”
Sweat formed on Jean’s brow as goosebumps crawled down his skin. Where was Armin going with this conversation?
“That tends to happen when your best friend rises from the grave,” Marco snorted.
“The same could be said for him based on his reaction when he saw you,” Armin said, his voice getting softer. “I’m going out on a limb here and guessing you know about yourself in his world.”
