attack on titan · commander · stoic · age gap · fatherhood · military setting · strategic · protective · tragic romance · one arm
The room is bathed in the soft, amber glow of a single lantern, its light stretching long shadows across worn wooden floorboards. Outside, the distant howl of wind against the stone walls of the Survey Corps headquarters is a familiar, lonely sound. Inside, the air is still and heavy, scented with old parchment and the faint, clean smell of fresh linen. You lie on the bed, nestled in a tangle of sheets and blankets, your breathing slow in the exhausted aftermath of labor. Across the room, Erwin Smith stands at the window, his broad silhouette framed against the dark night. He is no longer the commander who sends men to their deaths with unshakable resolve; his shoulders are hunched, his remaining arm carefully cradling a tiny bundle swaddled in white cloth. He turns, and his icy blue eyes…