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[supersecretwritingblognumba2]

Veils of Ash

A small note: I recommend listening to "Black Friday" by Tom Odell while reading this chapter!

An Attack on Titan Fanfiction (Also posted on Wattpad)

Before Grisha Yeager's fateful encounter with Carla, he had a daughter with a mysterious woman within the walls. This woman was not just any ordinary individual; she belonged to a rare and powerful lineage known as the Draconians. Y/N Yeager entered a world unaware of her true heritage-a realm inhabited by ancient beings who possess the extraordinary ability to transform not into Titans, but into dragons.

After the untimely death of her mother, Y/N was raised in the safety of Wall Maria alongside her younger half-brother, Eren. With her fierce spirit, sharp intellect, and unyielding loyalty, always shielding her family from the dark truths of her lineage. Even with her close ties to Eren and their childhood adventures, Y/N felt constrained by the necessity to conceal her true nature. However, as the shadows of despair and terror encroach upon their lives, she is pulled into a destiny laden with peril-one forged in flames, drenched in blood, and tied to a history veiled in ash.

As Y/N undergoes training with the 104th Cadet Corps, she is determined to fight against the Titans threatening humanity. Her journey with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, where they forge a bond of friendship and bravery. Yet, amidst the camaraderie, Y/N's path intersects with Bertholdt Hoover-a quiet, observant young man, weighed down by his own dark secrets and the burden of his role in the ongoing conflict. The battlefield becomes a place of unforeseen connections, as two adversaries find themselves drawn to one another, each navigating the treacherous waters of loyalty and betrayal.

But the heart of a dragon remembers-memories entwined with fire, resilience, and vengeance. As the truth about Y/N's bloodline slowly unravels, it threatens to ignite a blaze that could consume everything she holds dear, altering the very fabric of their world forever.

Chapter One: A Name Not Quite Hers

| Shiganshina District - Year 834

When Carla baked, the entire house filled with the irresistible smell of fresh, warm bread. The scent was rich and sweet, wafting through the air and clinging to the walls like a comforting embrace, making even the frost of a winter morning feel soft and warm.

Y/n perched on the edge of the well-worn kitchen table, her feet gently swinging above the polished wooden floor. With long, hair cascading over her face, she narrowed her eyes in concentration, reading the same dog-eared page of her worn book for the third time. But the words had faded into the background; her true focus lay elsewhere, on the world around her.

Outside the kitchen window, she picked up the familiar sound of the old gate creaking open, a noise that would seem faint to anyone else but rang clear and bright in her keen ears. Grisha was home.

Carla, busy kneading dough on the countertop, noticed the sound as well. She glanced toward the door, wiping flour from her hands on her apron, and offered Y/n a warm, encouraging smile. “Go and greet him,” she suggested gently, her voice soft and nurturing as she nodded toward the hallway.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

Grisha Yeager was her father, and while she understood that biologically, he often felt like a distant figure to her. He seemed to inhabit a realm beyond her grasp as if he were straddling the visible world and some hidden dimension. He never raised his voice, was never cruel; yet, there was an absence in his gaze that she sensed starkly, a lack of the open affection that Carla always bestowed upon her.

Despite her reservations, she obeyed.

Quietly, Y/n made her way to the door, opening it just a crack. She looked up at Grisha as he stepped into the house, bringing with him a chill from the outside. His coat, was dusty from the road, his sharp eyes landed on her and he offered a quiet smile—neither surprised nor unkind—one that seemed to bridge the gap between them, however faintly.

“Have you been practicing?” he inquired, his deep voice smooth.

Y/n nodded in response, her heart beating a little faster. She had indeed practiced, pouring her effort into honing her skills, yet she kept that to herself.

He didn’t ask to see what she had been working on; instead, he simply acknowledged her with that same quiet smile, and in that moment, she felt a flicker of connection, fragile but present.

| Later that week - same house, same quiet kitchen

Carla was humming a cheerful tune, the melody light and airy as it filled the kitchen. Her round belly, prominent beneath her flour-dusted apron, swayed gently with her movements. These days, her pace had slowed, the weight of her impending motherhood evident in every step, yet her voice remained vibrant and full of warmth.

"Do you know what I'm going to name him?" she asked, placing a delicate hand on the swell of her stomach as if cradling the life inside her.

Y/n shook her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"Eren," Carla revealed, a smile lighting up her face. "It means 'saint' in some ancient tongue." Her gaze softened as she looked at Y/n. "You're going to be a wonderful big sister."

Y/n hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The idea of a little brother felt foreign and daunting, but she nodded, all the same.

Carla reached out, her fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind Y/n's ear. "You’re mine too, you know," she said, her voice soothing.

Y/n believed that wholeheartedly. Even though they weren’t related by blood, the bond they shared felt deeper than any familial ties. Carla never regarded her with doubt or disdain; there was always an unwavering love in her eyes.

Not even on that stormy day when Y/n returned home, soaked to the bone, droplets of rain evaporating off her skin as if they were steam on a hot surface. Not when she had gone into the alley and confronted two older boys, returning without a single bruise while they had not come back at all. Not even during those restless nights when she woke up in the dark, her eyes glowing faintly like embers, her muscles burning with an inexplicable heat that she couldn’t comprehend. Carla remained steadfast, her acceptance unwavering through it all.

| One year later - after Eren is born

She cradled her newborn brother for the first time when he was just a few days old. He was so tiny, a bundle of noise and constant movement, squirming in her arms.

With surprising strength for such a small being, he wrapped his tiny fingers around hers, and she gazed down at him—this brother whose arrival had been met with uncertainty in her heart.

"You're so small," she whispered, almost in awe.

From her bed, Carla chuckled softly. "So were you, you know. We all were at one point—tiny miracles."

Y/n struggled to believe that. She had always felt different—too big for her small frame, too expansive for the confines of this house, and too big for the cramped walls humanity hid behind. At times, her skin itched, as if it were a costume that never quite fit.

Yet, at that moment, Eren locked his big, unblinking eyes on her, and something within her shifted, settling in her chest.

He needed her. And for the first time, she realized she could be needed.

| Year 844 - The mountains, inside the Shiganshina district

Snow fell softly and silently across the winding forest trail, each flake reflecting the muted light of the overcast sky. It blanketed the skeletal branches overhead and muffled the crunch of winter boots pressed into the frost-laden ground. Y/n walked closely behind her father, Grisha Yeager, her eyes sharp and observant beneath the snug hood of her thick winter coat. Eren trudged beside her, his cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red from the biting cold, and a palpable sense of boredom seemed to seep from his every step.

"Are we almost there?" he asked for the third time, his voice tinged with impatience.

"Almost," Grisha replied, his voice low and burdened, his thoughts elsewhere. He had been unusually silent during their journey. The leather doctor's bag hung heavy at his side, bouncing slightly with each purposeful stride he took.

With a playful smile, Y/n glanced at her younger brother. "If you ask one more time, I’m going to toss you into a snowbank."

Eren responded with a dramatic, exaggerated gesture, sticking out his tongue at her.

Y/n smirked in amusement, but her expression quickly shifted back to seriousness as her attention returned to the path ahead, an unsettling tension starting to build in her gut.

"Why are we going so far into the woods anyway?" Eren asked, his curiosity finally overcoming his boredom.

"We’re visiting a family," Grisha said, the weight of his words hanging in the chilly air. "A patient of mine."

Y/n was already aware of who they were visiting—the Ackermans. Grisha had spoken of them in hushed tones previously. They were a reclusive family, the kind that lived on the outskirts of society. Y/n had caught occasional glimpses of the girl, Mikasa, but had never met her face to face.

Though the visit seemed routine—a simple house call to check on a patient living at the forest's edge—Y/n felt a forbidding sense of unease knotting inside her, a visceral instinct she had learned not to ignore. Something was off.

As they approached, the Ackerman house loomed ahead, its uneven silhouette stark against the gray sky. The chimney stood silent and cold, devoid of any welcoming smoke or warmth.

"Strange," Grisha muttered, an uneasy frown creasing his brow. "He mentioned that his wife was feeling unwell."

Y/n’s shoulders stiffened as they closed in, her senses sharpening. Suddenly, she caught a whiff of something foul, a putrid odor that clawed at her nostrils. "Can you smell that?"

Grisha turned to look at her, confusion etched on his face.

Y/n stepped forward cautiously, her heart racing. "Blood," she breathed, the word escaping her lips in a trembling whisper.

Grisha frowned, his brow furrowing deeper. "What are you—"

"I said—" She moved faster now, her instincts kicking in as her eyes narrowed, "—I smell blood."

Seizing the moment, she reached the door first, her boots sliding slightly on the icy ground as she knocked firmly, impatience rising. When no answer came, she pounded on the door with renewed urgency.

Grisha, now serious and alert, pushed past her and grasped the handle.

The door creaked open with an unsettling ease, revealing a sight that snatched the breath from their lungs.

What greeted them was an unsettling silence—punctuated by the horrific scene within.

The interior, once a cozy home, now lay in disarray. The small space was neat, but chaos reigned—furniture overturned, a table upended, and a bowl of what appeared to be uneaten food shattered on the floor. But the most chilling aspect of the room was the sight of the bodies lying motionless.

Mr. and Mrs. Ackerman were sprawled on the floor, lifeless, their faces pale, void of the warmth of life.

Fresh pools of crimson blood coated the wooden floor, slick and glistening, stark against the muted tones of the room.

Grisha inhaled sharply, rushing forward to check for signs of life, his heartbeat racing in his chest. But Y/n already knew the truth. The metallic scent was far too strong, too lingering—they were hours too late.

She turned slowly and scanned the rest of the room for any signs of Mikasa. There was nothing. No sign of her presence. No indication of a struggle.

Just... an overwhelming absence.

Grisha’s voice broke the suffocating silence, sweat beading on his forehead. "Was the girl, Mikasa, around?"

Eren muttered a quiet, dazed "no," his wide eyes staring blankly into the distance, as if unable to comprehend the horror before them.

Though Y/n could hear her father’s voice, it felt distant and muffled as she remained transfixed on the lifeless bodies—the crushing realization dawning on her amid his frantic reassurances about waiting for him at the mountain's base.

She could feel Grisha gripping their shoulders tightly, but both Eren and Y/n’s faces were ashen, mirrors of shock and disbelief in the face of the unthinkable horror that had unfolded.

|  Year 844 - Deep forest near Shiganshina District

The cabin loomed like a dark scar amid the pristine whiteness of the snow-covered forest, its presence both isolated and unsettling. A chill breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint, metallic scent of blood—a scent that Y/n recognized as belonging to the Ackermans.

Crouched beside her, Eren’s intense gaze was fixed on the flickering light illuminating the cabin from within, the shadows of men moving behind the curtained windows.

“She’s in there,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with urgency.

Y/n nodded once, determination etched on her face. “I’ll wait beside the door. When the second guy steps out, I’ll take him down. Are you sure you can handle the first?”

Eren's jaw tightened, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. “I’ll manage,” he replied, steeling himself for what lay ahead.

With a brief, reassuring touch on his shoulder, Y/n moved quietly toward the door, her movements as silent as a flickering shadow under the cover of dark branches. Settling beside the doorframe, she pressed herself into the cold ground, hiding from view.

Inside the dim cabin, Mikasa was bound and silent in the corner, her delicate wrists raw and inflamed from the rough ropes and icy air. One of her captors remained sat at a table by the small window, peering outside, while the other meandered about, his low grumbling breaking the tense silence.

Suddenly, a timid voice broke through the tension. "Hello?" Eren called, expertly feigning a shaky tone as he opened the creaking door. “I got lost… Is someone there?”

The man at the table rounded on him, eyebrows furrowing in irritation. “What the hell… how’d you find this place, brat!?”

The kidnapper stood, taking a few steps toward Eren, a predatory glint in his eye.

The second man barely glanced away, distracted by the arrival of this unexpected visitor. Eren, standing vulnerably in the doorway, shivered, his wide eyes filled with feigned fear. “M-my parents… I can't find them—”

The first man crouched down, a grotesque smile creeping over his face. “It’s alright, we’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you, mister…” Eren muttered, his voice dropping as he gripped the man’s collar tightly, his real intent surfacing like a coiled serpent. In a swift motion, he slashed a blade across the man’s throat. “Now die, you bastard!”

Chaos erupted as the second kidnapper shouted, charging forward, his face contorted with rage.

“Bastard!”

Eren turned—his eyes widening—but there was no need for him to react.

As the man crossed the threshold outside the cabin, Y/n sprang into action. With precision, she lunged forward, embedding her knife deep into his neck, silencing him in an instant. His body collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, lifeless.

Breathless, they exchanged a quick, glance before rushing into the cabin's interior.

Eren rushed to Mikasa, his hands shaking as he cut away the ropes binding her. “We’re Dr. Yeager’s children. I’m sure you’ve met him before,” Y/n said as she crouched down to meet Mikasa’s frightened gaze.

“What happened to the third one…?” Mikasa asked softly, her voice barely audible amidst the chaos.

Before Eren or Y/n could respond, heavy footsteps thundered toward them. A third man, massive and furious, emerged from the shadows, his eyes narrowed as they darted between the dead bodies and the freed girl.

"You little shits!" he bellowed, the room echoing with his rage.

Eren lunged for his knife on the floor, but the man reacted faster, delivering a brutal kick to Eren’s stomach that sent him crashing against the wall.

Y/n charged forward, adrenaline fueling her, but the hulking figure brushed her aside like a mere inconvenience, advancing toward Eren.

She skidded across the gritty floor, her mind momentarily dazed from the impact.

The man tightened his grip around Eren’s throat, lifting him off the ground, and choking him with overpowering strength.

Eren sputtered, gasping for breath as muffled cries escaped his lips. “Fight…! If you don’t fight, we can't win!”

Y/n struggled to regain her footing, her head spinning with pain, but Mikasa was already rising with newfound resolve. There was an electrifying shift in the air as she seized the knife, a wild gleam in her eyes.

With a surge of determination, she plunged the blade into the man's back, her movements swift and lethal, striking like a bolt of lightning.

As the enormous figure crumpled to the ground, Mikasa stood there, panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Alive.

Slowly, Y/n sat up, blood trickling from her mouth, and wiped it away, momentarily stunned but fueled by the chaotic thrill of survival.

| A few hours later, deep in the forest

The air hung heavy with the metallic scent of blood, mixing with the crisp cold of winter as the pounding of galloping hooves shattered the eerie stillness of the snowy landscape.

In the clearing, snowflakes danced in the air as a squad of military police rode in, their horses kicking up plumes of powdery white. At the forefront, Grisha Yeager’s eyes, sharp and alert, surveyed the scene with escalating dread.

"Eren! Y/n!" he called out, his voice echoing through the trees.

Without waiting for his horse to come to a complete stop, he leaped off, his boots crunching audibly against the ice-covered ground as he sprinted toward the small cabin nestled among the pines, his heart racing like a war drum in his chest.

Y/n was the first to emerge from the cabin, her shirt smeared with a faint tinge of red that stood stark against the white landscape. Despite the chaos, she exuded a sense of calm, her posture steady, eyes resolute.

Behind her, Eren trudged forward, his demeanor muted, the dirt and grime streaking his pale face telling a story of struggle and fear. Between them, Mikasa walked barefoot, her small feet leaving prints in the snow. She was wrapped in Y/n's oversized coat, which engulfed her slight figure. Her arms hung limply at her sides, and her eyes were fixed somewhere far away as if her mind had drifted into another realm.

Grisha froze, a deep feeling of alarm settling in his stomach.

For one heart-stopping moment, he took in the entire scene—the three of them, the blood, the frigid air swirling with uncertainty.

Then, without a moment's hesitation, he dropped to his knees in the snow, pulling both Eren and Y/n into a tight embrace, relief and panic intermingling in his chest.

"Dammit! I told you two to wait for me at the base of the mountain!" he scolded, his grip on their shoulders firm. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?!"

Eren, his voice a blend of anger and desperation, replied, "We only stopped dangerous beasts! They only looked like humans!"

"Eren!" Grisha began to speak, but Y/n interjected, her voice trembling but passionate. "If we hadn't shown up, it would have been too late! The military police would never have made it in time!"

Grisha took a deep breath, closing his eyes in frustration. "Even so, you two were incredibly lucky!" he emphasized, his tone harsh but concerned. "You shouldn't have acted with such disregard for your own lives!"

Eren cast his gaze downward, tears glistening in his eyes. "But... we just wanted to save her..." His voice cracked as he spoke.

With a reassuring squeeze, Y/n intertwined her fingers with Eren's, grounding him with her touch.

Grisha then turned his attention to Mikasa, who stood slightly apart, detached. He knelt in the frigid snow before her, his heavy coat settling over his broad shoulders to shield him from the cold, his expression softening.

"Do you remember me?" he asked gently, his voice low and warm despite the biting chill. "We met several times when you were younger, but..."

"Dr. Yeager..." Mikasa's voice cut through the air—cold and distant. "Where do I go from here?" She stood there, cheeks flushed from exposure, her small frame enveloped by Y/n’s coat. "I’m cold, and… there's no place for me to go anymore..." Her gaze fell to the ground, and she barely blinked, the weight of her sorrow heavy. Blood matted in her hair, and a tremble ran through her fingers.

Y/n, standing close by, crossed her arms, her expression softening.

Eren stepped forward, a flicker of determination in him. He hesitated only for a moment, then unwrapped his red scarf—the one Carla had lovingly knitted for him last winter. With deliberate care, he reached up and wrapped it around Mikasa’s neck, his movements defined by gentleness.

"You’re cold," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze as a flush crept up his cheeks. "So, y'know... take it."

In that instant, Mikasa blinked once, as if awakening from a trance.

Her fingers curled around the warm fabric of the scarf, and for a heartbeat, her breath caught in her throat. Her shoulders trembled lightly as her emotions threatened to spill over.

And then she exhaled.

Grisha placed a steady hand on her shoulder, grounding her further in the present.

"You don’t have to go back to that house," he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "If you’d like... you can come live with us."

Mikasa’s gaze flicked up, first to Grisha, then to Eren, and finally to Y/n.

No words passed between them—just a tentative, slow nod.

Y/n stepped closer, brushing aside a stray lock of hair from Mikasa’s forehead, being careful not to touch the bruises that marred her skin.

"Let’s go home... to our house," Y/n said softly, offering Mikasa a warm smile.

Mikasa looked up, tears shining in her eyes, her heart swelling with a mixture of sorrow and relief. "Okay," she whispered, "let’s go home."

Hey there! I’m so excited to share the first chapter of this book!

For what feels like forever, this story has been in the back of my mind. Now, after finally mustering up the courage and finding the time, I can get started on writing it!

This book is a romance for Bertholdt, a character who I feel deserves much more love and attention than he's received. He’s complex and intriguing, with many layers of depth and personality that I believe many don’t see. He’s one of my favorites, and I can't wait to give him some much-needed love.

As a friendly reminder for anyone who decides to read this book: this is my very first time pursuing writing. I’m just beginning, so please keep in mind that my goal is not perfection, but rather to share a heartfelt and intriguing story that resonates with you.

Thank you so much for your support, and I genuinely hope you enjoy this story!

With all my love, Vera.