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On The Bench (AOT/DxD)

Fan Omakes New
After a long absence, and to celebrate the year anniversary of On The Bench, here are those fan-made omakes I promised... ages ago.

Stick around to the AN at the end for a little surprise I have cooked up.


********

Omake: But at what cost? by

Sagely Hijinks

over on Spacebattles.

Eren Yeager died his second death with a smile on his face.

He had accomplished what he set out to do.

The devils had lost their ability to use Evil Pieces - and thus, their ability to recruit humans. The angels would never be able to make Brave Saints.

The Fallen had lost Azazel, and with him, all of their research on extracting Sacred Gears.

The system set up by the Christian God would work once again as intended; humans with extraordinary power, either through reincarnation or Sacred Gear, would be able to fight back against the supernatural.

The other mythological factions were similarly neutered through Eren's careful orchestration of the evil gods.

Ophis had beat back the Great Red and returned to the dimensional gap, with no further earthly attachments left alive.

Finally... humans were free once more.

Well. For a time.

A few years afterwards, well after Eren had passed and his tenuous equilibrium had been established, everything once more fell into chaos.

Invaders from a foreign dimension, calling themselves Evie, had come to conquer the Earth - which they referred to as "Draconic Deus".

They came holding the severed heads of the Dragons that had lived in the Gap. They arrived to a world with nobody strong enough to contest them.

In another timeline, the gods of Evie would have been stopped by a heroic Oppai dragon.

In this one, the world was quickly subjugated.

Humanity once again lost control of its own fate, but in a different way. Previously, humanity had been mostly autonomous, with any of the less subtle control happening in the background. Now, humanity was well aware of the fact that it was little more than cattle living on borrowed time.

The End.

********

Semi Cannon Omake: Future's Recipe by

Netra

over on Spacebattles​

"Verdict?"

Crunch.

"Kuroka?"

Crunch.

"Kuroka."

"If you already know what I'm going to say, why even bother asking?" the Nekoshou continued munching as she stared at a boy who was barely taller than the table counter he was peeking over.

"I need to know if the cookies are good. They're important," his voice, flat and empty, felt wrong coming out of the mouth of a child his age.

"You didn't answer my question, Eren."

"…"

Predictably, he didn't respond. He never did. Whenever she tried to pry further into how his future sight worked, the boy known as Eren Yeager simply ignored her. Her words would always fall on deaf ea—

"I want to hear you say it."

Kuroka paused mid-chew, her ears twitching at the boy's insistence. She swallowed the bite of cookie, the crunching noise stopping as she placed the remaining half on the tray.

"Alright, Partnyaa," she relented, her golden eyes narrowing playfully. "They're good."

Really good. She wasn't even lying. The cookies tasted amazing. Crisp on the outside, but soft and chewy on the inside. Just the right amount of sweetness without being overpowering.

After seeing the boy raze an entire devil estate to the ground (not to mention transforming into a colossal monstrosity), baking quality cookies wasn't even in the top one-hundred of things she'd thought Eren would do next. So imagine her surprise when he told her they'd be sneaking into a café past its closing time.

A café that coincidentally had all the ingredients he needed readily stocked.

The stray watched him work as he preheated the oven, mixed eggs and flour into a bowl, molded the dough into small, even circles, and meticulously placed them on the baking sheet before shoving it in. She wasn't in any way experienced in the culinary arts, but she could tell there was barely any wasted movement in his actions.

Eren had clearly done this before. His small hands effortlessly cracked open the eggs, he skipped using measuring cups for the flour, and he twisted the oven timer's dial without even glancing at the numbers. His movements were precise and swift, yet carried a nonchalance that spoke of experience, as if he had performed this same routine dozens of times.

It would've been even more impressive if he didn't need to stand on a wooden stool to reach the kitchen countertop (it was adorable!).

Eren's expression didn't change, but there was a brief glimmer in his eyes that hinted at satisfaction after hearing her compliment his work. He carefully picked up one of the cookies, examining it closely before taking a bite. His chewing was methodical, as if he was analyzing every aspect of the flavor and texture.

Kuroka watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "So, what's the big deal with these cookies?" she asked, leaning on the counter.

Eren finished his bite and swallowed before responding. "They're for someone important. I need them to be perfect."

Kuroka's ears twitched again, this time in genuine curiosity. "Important, nyaa? More important than little old me?" she teased.

Eren didn't rise to the bait. "Yes," he said simply.

The nekoshou's playful expression softened slightly. Despite Eren's cold demeanor, she had grown fond of the boy. He was mysterious and often frustratingly silent, but there was a depth to him that she couldn't ignore.

Not to mention, he was her only chance to reunite with Shirone. Kuroka tolerated his antics solely because he promised he would clear her name and bring her back to her beloved little sister. All she had to do was train him in Senjutsu and play as his secretary cat, even though she doubted he could become better than her in the sage arts, much less become one of the top ten.

Though deep down, the stray hoped he would. Because if he did become one of the strongest beings in this world like his "clairvoyance" told him, that meant he was also right about Shirone.

Kuroka pried another hot cookie off the tray.

"Haven't you already perfected them?"

He didn't respond.

She took a bite of her cookie. "I doubt a boy your age could be that powerful and simultaneously be a cooking prodigy, so I'm assuming the reason you bake so well is because you've already done it in the future. Just like how you knew about Shirone because I eventually tell you about her. Did I get that right, nyaa?"

Eren simply stared at her.

"Here's what I don't understand though, if you've already found the exact way to bake a perfect batch of cookies, why even go through the trial and error of trying to perfect them in the first place?"

"Our steps toward the outcome are what shape the outcome itself."

Oooohhh ominous. But….. it didn't really tell her anything. At least, anything related to how his power worked.

Eren glanced at the tray of cookies with an unreadable expression. "They're for someone who's going to help us. Someone crucial to our plans."

Kuroka's interest piqued. "And what kind of person needs cookies to be convinced nyaa?"

"Someone with a sweet tooth and a lot of influence. Trust me, it'll make sense when we meet her."

Her? A woman? So they weren't in the top ten then.

He took another bite. "This batch isn't even close to perfect, the ones I'll make won't even be comparable. That's why I need you to teach me Senjutsu as soon as possible."

"Hmmm? What does Senjustsu have to do wi–"

Pause. Just like that, her mind needed a moment to connect the dots. Eren could almost see the gears turning inside her head. "Y-You want to use Senjutsu. To bake cookies….?"

"Yes. I'm going to use it to grow perfect ingredients and then bake cookies with the–"

"WHY!?!?!? What happened to becoming the fourth strongest being on the planet? I thought you'd use it to train and get stronger, nyaa!"

Eren met her incredulous gaze with calm determination. "I will become the fourth strongest being on the planet. But to get there, I need allies, resources, and influence. These cookies are just a part of that plan."

Kuroka laughed. Laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. Her laughter echoed through the empty café, a stark contrast to Eren's stoic demeanor. She shook her head, her golden eyes sparkling with amusement.

For a long moment, the pair lapsed into silence, the crunching of cookies the only sound hanging in the air between them. The tension was palpable, but neither seemed willing to break it. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows on the walls, and the scent of freshly baked cookies mingled with the faint aroma of coffee beans.

After what felt like an eternity, one of them finally spoke.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?"

"I already told you. I don't know. All I can do is give you the chance. The rest is up to you."

That's what bothered her. He knew about her past. He knew they would take over an entire faction led by the wielder of the True Longinus. He knew he would eventually become powerful enough to rival the current Lucifers. He even knew he would rank among the top ten, fourth no less. He had a detailed ten-year roadmap of how the future would unfold. Yet, he didn't know if her cute little Shirone would forgive her?

In eleven I will be dead.

The words he had spoken beneath the Dantalion manor echoed in her mind. Eren had uttered them with such certainty, and it sent a shiver down her spine every time she recalled it. But they were just the words she needed to piece the puzzle. A hypothesis began to take shape, one she planned to explore further at a later time.

"I don't even know if I can face her after everything I put her through," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eren, as always, remained silent. His expression was unreadable, but Kuroka could sense his unwavering attention on her. She felt a bitter chuckle escape her lips again, this time devoid of any humor.

"I failed her, you know?" Kuroka continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Shirone was just a child, and I was supposed to protect her. Instead, I dragged her into this mess, into my mess. I thought I was strong enough to shield her from the consequences, but I was wrong. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't keep her safe."

The memories flooded back, each one more painful than the last. She remembered the fear in Shirone's eyes when their parents died, the way her sister clung to her, seeking comfort and protection. She recalled the look of hesitant joy on Shirone's face when they both became reincarnated devils for the Naberius clan, believing they could once again have a home—a family. Only for it all to come crashing down.

She recalled the sheer terror on Shirone's face as she stood over the bloody corpse of their former master. An expression she never thought her cute little sister would ever level at her.

Kuroka had promised to keep her safe, to always be there for her no matter what. But those promises had been broken, shattered by the harsh beating stick of reality.

"I hate it. I hate how weak I am. I should have been stronger," she admitted.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, the pain a welcome distraction. "I don't even know why I'm following you, Eren. Maybe I was just desperate enough to believe your promises, to cling to any hope that came my way."

The stray stared at the crumbs in her hands, a smile playing on her lips. She didn't expect Eren to say anything, and he didn't. Silence fell between them again, a silence heavy with unspoken words. She didn't know what he thought about her confession, but she knew that he understood. In his own way, he was carrying a weight just as heavy as hers.

She let out a hearty laugh. "Don't get me wrong nyaa. That little display you gave me in the Naberius manor wasn't anything to scoff at. It was more than enough to put the fear of Go-(ow!)-Satan in me. So don't worry Partnyaa! I'll fulfill my end of the dea–

"It's enough."

"Nyaa?"

"Your regrets. Your sins. They're more than enough," a boy who barely reached her chest stared at her with a maturity and depth far beyond his years.

"If it's what keeps you going, keeps you moving forward, then hold on to them. Hold on to them with the hopes of finding redemption. Use them as fuel to become stronger, become better."

Kuroka blinked, taken aback by his words. Despite his age, there was something almost sage-like about him. She had never met anyone like Eren before, and though she was wary of his mysterious knowledge and cold demeanor, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope.

"Redemption, huh?" she murmured, looking down at the half-eaten cookie in her hand. "You really think she'll take me back?"

"Like I said, I don't know. I never meet her, so I can't see her. I don't know if she'll accept you with open arms or reject you completely. All I can do is give you the chance.

"And if the latter happens?"

"Then that's on you."

Kuroka mulled over Eren's words, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. The idea of redemption was foreign to her; it had always seemed like a luxury she couldn't afford. If she was in Shirone's shoes, she wouldn't forgive herself either. But Eren's calm certainty, even in the face of unknowns, stirred something in her. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way for her to find peace.

The silence stretched, filled only with the occasional clinking of the café's equipment and the faint hum of the air conditioner. Kuroka finished her cookie, savoring the last crumbs, and then pushed the tray towards Eren.

"You're a strange one, Eren Yeager," she said, her voice softer now. "But you've given me a lot to think about. I'll make sure not to mess it up when I finally arrive at the opportunity."

Eren looked at her, his expression as impassive as ever, but there was a glint in his eyes—a hint of understanding, perhaps even empathy. "Everyone has their own path to walk Kuroka," he said quietly. "It's up to you how you choose to walk it."

Kuroka nodded slowly, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. But enough of the heavy stuff." She stood up, stretching her arms above her head, her ears flicking playfully. "We've got work to do if you want to become the best cookie-baking future-seeing powerhouse around, Partnyaa!"

After tidying up, a flash of light enveloped the pair, and they vanished, leaving behind only the lingering scent of freshly baked cookies and the faint echoes of their conversation in the empty café.

The next day, the café owner arrived to find everything just as she had left it, save for five cookies sealed inside a tupperware on the counter with a note that read:

"Thank you for the ingredients. The cookies were delicious. We cleaned up after ourselves. - E."

The owner blinked at the note, puzzled, but shrugged it off as she sampled one of the cookies.

She couldn't deny they were indeed delicious.

********

Semi Cannon Omake: Of Simpler Times by

Netra

over on Spacebattles​

Inhale.

Exhale.

It was peaceful.

So very peaceful.

Free from the future. Free from the past. Living only in the present. He had almost forgotten the feeling. The feeling of existing in the moment on its lonesome.

Ever since he turned six, for as long as he could remember—or rather, for as long as memory had meaning—his new life had been a swirling maelstrom of moments. Past, present, and future coiled together in an endless loop, impossible to separate, like tangled threads of a tapestry too intricate to unravel. To him, time was not a linear path but an all-encompassing ocean in which he drifted, pulled in every direction at once.

But here, on this simple wooden bench, beneath the canopy of rustling leaves, he was free. The chaos subsided. The waves stilled. He could breathe.

It felt alien….and familiar. He could feel the rough grain of the wood beneath his fingers, the coolness of the late afternoon breeze on his face, and the warmth of the sun high above. These were not echoes of moments from countless different lifetimes, but singular experiences—sharp, vivid, and real.

No future. No past. Just….this.

In his heart of hearts, he wished it could last forever. To have the weight of the future lifted from his shoulders, and the echoes of the past quiet to a distant hum. But he knew it wouldn't be, that it would never be. He would keep moving forward and inevitably die with this power. This was his burden to carry. He could not escape it, no matter how desperately he might wish otherwise.

Which was why he endeavored to enjoy this brief respite as much as possible.

He closed his eyes and let himself sink deeper into the calm. For a fleeting moment, he was just Eren, a young man sitting on a bench, with no weight of destiny on his shoulders, no curse of knowledge. His thoughts were not a tangle of decisions and repercussions, but simple things—on the feel of the wind, the rustle of leaves, the way the–the–


" 『ZA WARUDO』 TOKI O TOMARE! "


….the way the red-haired devil girl beside him yelled at the top of her lungs.

Eren sobered up.

Rias Gremory. The heiress of the Gremory clan, one of the highest ranking devil families of the remaining 72 pillars of hell. One of the few inheritors of the Power of Destruction, the very power the original Lucifer had wielded to erase his enemies.

Someone Eren had never expected to befriend.

Someone Eren had never even expected to meet.

Someone who did not know what he planned to do to her home and people.

Someone who thought of him as naught but a dying blind boy to be pitied and looked after.

Someone—who was now raising his arms laterally, facing his palms forward.

"Remember! THIS is the pose he strikes as he says it. And don't forget, he's floating in the air using his Stand powers the whole time," her excitement was palpable as she lifted his arms into position.

"Now say it with me, Eren. To-ki-Wo-To-ma-re. It means 'stop time.'"

Eren cleared his throat. He knew better than to argue whenever she got this excited.

"Toh. Kee. Yo. Tow. Ma. Rhe," he repeated slowly, carefully enunciating each syllable.

Rias giggled at his awkward attempt, her eyes lighting up with amusement. "Close enough," she said, still holding his arms in place. "But you've got to put some oomph into it! It's like you're commanding the universe itself to come to a halt."

She yelled again, but this time in a deeper, more masculine voice, and he couldn't help but be amused at the absurdity of it all.

"You need to channel the raw charisma of a blonde man with serious daddy issues into your voice!"

For a moment, his mind wandered to someone—an erstwhile ally, one that thought of him as a brother, someone who truly cared for him despite the circumstances that had placed them on opposing sides. Someone he had used for convenience. Someone he had betrayed in the end to further his goals. The thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Eren said it again, this time louder and deeper than before, making the respective pose all the while. He must have looked and sounded utterly ridiculous, judging by the way he could hear Rias struggling to stifle her mirth.

Rias's laughter finally broke through, a bright, unrestrained sound that filled the quiet noon air. Eren couldn't help but be somewhat amused (though it didn't show on his face), the absurdity of the situation momentarily lifting the weight that always seemed to hang over him. For a few brief seconds, it was easy to forget everything else—his mission, his burden, his fate—and just be present in the moment, sharing a laugh with someone who had become an unexpected friend.

Rias let go of his arms (finally) and clapped her hands together. "Not bad, Eren! If we keep this up you'll be nihongo jouzu in no time at all. Sona will be impressed."

He could feel the aura of smugness radiating off of her at the thought of beating her long time rival at her own game.

Eren raised an eyebrow, only catching the gist of what she said. "N-Ni–Ni"

"Nihongo jouzu," Rias chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "It means you'll be fluent in Japanese. At least, enough to get by with some anime catchphrases."

Eren shook his head, finding her enthusiasm pleasing despite himself. "I'm not sure how useful that'll be."

"Maybe not," Rias admitted, "but it's fun, isn't it?"

Fun. It was such a simple word, yet it carried a weight Eren had almost forgotten. In a life dictated by duty, sacrifice, and the relentless pursuit of his goals, the concept of fun had slipped through the cracks. But here, with Rias, in this fleeting moment, he allowed himself to indulge in it. It stirred memories of better days, of racing to a tree on a hill with two others—names he wouldn't dare speak or think of, lest the pain resurface.

"Yes. Yes I guess it is."

"Exactly! Now let's continue with the story," Rias said as she flipped another page of her manga.

Their dynamic would go as follows: Rias would read in Japanese while Eren listened. Occasionally, she'd challenge him to translate passages into English, testing the knowledge he'd gained from his lessons with Sona. However, Rias often ended up translating most of it herself since Eren's lessons with Sona had only recently advanced beyond basic Japanese.

She had taken it upon herself to teach him the language through manga, a method that combined her love for otaku culture with his desire to learn something new—though he wasn't sure how much of it he was retaining. She would often pause to explain certain phrases or expressions, her voice animated with excitement as she described the scenes on the page.


"ORA! ORA! ORA! ORA! ORA!…."


"MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA!…."



Each syllable that left her lips was punctuated by Rias playfully tapping his good arm with her fist, mimicking the 'fight' unfolding in the story.

"Remember Eren, 'Ora' means 'come on!' while 'Muda' means 'useless'."

He recalled that little tidbit of information as he listened.

As Rias continued reading, her voice animated and full of enthusiasm, Eren found himself immersed in the story despite the oddity of it all. He allowed himself to be swept along by her passion, to let go of the relentless weight on his shoulders. Her excitement was infectious, and despite his initial reservations, he found himself intrigued by the strange picture she was painting.

Despite struggling to keep up, Eren managed to get a rough understanding of the story so far. JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders followed three men and a teenager (though Rias insisted he was the biggest 'man' of the group despite being only seventeen years old) on a journey to save Holy Joestar, said tennager's mother, by defeating Dio Brando, a returning antagonist from Part One.

"He survived by decapitating Jonathan and replacing his head with his own! Can you believe that!?!? It's f*cking insane!"

She had pointed out that the key difference between this part and the previous two was the introduction of Stands: manifestations of a person's soul. These Stands typically appeared as various humanoid figures, which Rias found challenging to describe to the blind boy due to their unique appearances. In essence, these Stands could interact with the physical world, but the reverse was not true. In short, Stands could interact with the physical world, but the reverse wasn't possible. To top it off, each Stand possessed a unique ability tied to its user.

"Think of them as superpowered ghosts."

Bizarre indeed.

"Why do they say it in English?"

"Huh?"

"These 'Stands'—they use English for the names but then switch right back to Japanese. Why?"

Rias didn't respond immediately. It seemed his question had caught her off guard. He could almost picture the gears turning in her head as she tried to come up with an answer.

"W-Well…"

Rias paused, a rare moment of hesitation crossing her usually confident demeanor. Now that she thought about it, she didn't have a solid answer. It was something she had always accepted without question, part of the charm that made the series what it was.

"Well," she began slowly, clearly thinking it through as she spoke, "I think it's just part of the style, you know? It's like… when characters in manga or anime say something in English, it adds a certain flair or emphasis to what they're saying. It makes it stand out more. Plus, English words can sound cool or exotic in Japanese media."

"So they just say it to sound… intimidating?" Eren asked.

Rias snapped her fingers. "Bingo! Kind of like how you….well, never mind."

"How I what?" he pressed.

How your dead voice sends chills down my spine, even though you're only a human who's a few years older than me, was what she wanted to say.

But instead, Rias shook her head. "Forget it! We were just getting to the good part before you interrupted," she said, her voice filled with eager anticipation.

She continued. Her story progressed where they left off before Eren interrupted. Dio drank the recently deceased Joseph's blood and could now stop time for nine seconds. Jotaro gets angry at him. They fight. Jotaro gets a road roller dropped on him. They fight and talk some more. Until finally, Jotaro catches Dio off guard and incapacitates him long enough for the sun to set, killing him in the process. He made it sound dull, but Rias's colorful narration painted a picture of a battle of life and death that'd have the reader at the edge of their seat.

The sun was almost below the horizon. They'd spent the entire afternoon lost in the fantastical world of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, with Rias enthusiastically guiding Eren through the narrative. The warm, golden light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the ground, bathing the park in a serene glow. The air had cooled considerably, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of leaves and earth, signaling the end of a peaceful day.

Rias closed the manga with a satisfied sigh, a wide smile still plastered on her face. "And that's the end of Part 3! There's an epilogue I'll read to you next time, but that pretty much wraps it up." she said, turning to face Eren.

"So they can just tell time to stop? Just like that?"

"For five seconds! Though after Dio consumes Joseph's blood, he extends it to nine, but Jotaro's limit is still five," Rias explained, her enthusiasm lingering even after the finale. "What would you do if you had The World as a stand?"

"I don't know. If I had the power to stop time, I think I would just leave."

There it was again—that weary, hollow tone that made him sound far older than his years. Eren usually kept it in check around Rias and her peerage, but when that voice did slip through, it never failed to unsettle her.

Rias's smile faltered slightly as Eren's words hung in the air. She didn't miss the shift in his tone, the sudden heaviness that seemed to weigh down the moment. It was like a shadow passing over the sun, brief but undeniable. The carefree mood they'd shared just moments ago, filled with laughter and animated storytelling, now felt distant.

She had grown accustomed to Eren's occasional detachment, the way he would sometimes withdraw into himself, even in the middle of a conversation. But every time it happened, it still caught her off guard. It was a reminder that beneath the calm exterior he presented, there was a deep well of sorrow and burden that he carried alone.

"...the fighting, I mean. I would just leave the fighting."

Rias hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. She wanted to say something, anything, to bring back the lightness they had shared. But she knew that prying or pushing too hard wouldn't do any good.

Instead, Rias gently placed her hand on Eren's. "That's… understandable," she said softly. "I think a lot of people would feel the same way if they had the power to just… escape. To get away from all the fighting and the pain."

Eren didn't respond immediately. He sat there, still as a statue, absorbing the quiet comfort of her touch.

"But it's never really that simple is it? Sometimes you can't help but stand your ground, even when you know you shouldn't" he added after a moment, his voice firmer. "Sometimes all you can do is face it. Grit your teeth, dig your heels and push forward, no matter how hard it gets."

Rias squeezed his hand gently. She knew there was more to Eren than he let on, a hidden world of struggle and determination that he rarely shared with others. His words, though simple, carried a weight that resonated with her own experiences. As a devil, she understood the burdens of responsibility, the relentless pursuit of duty, and the sacrifices that came with it.

Not a day went by without the looming threat of her arranged marriage hanging over her like the Sword of Damocles, a constant reminder that her days of freedom were numbered.

She smiled softly, her grip on Eren's hand tightening just a fraction. "You're right," she said quietly, her voice steady. "It's not simple. But... moments like these, they make it a little easier, don't they?"

Eren nodded, though the gesture was small, almost imperceptible. He could feel the warmth of her hand in his, the simple connection grounding him in the present. Despite the swirling chaos of his life, despite the fate he knew awaited him, this moment was something he could hold onto.

They sat in silence for a while, the golden light of the setting sun bathing them in a gentle glow. The world around them seemed to slow, the worries of the past and future fading into the background. For now, they were just two people sharing a quiet moment on a bench, finding solace in each other's presence.

The last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon. Rias finally broke the silence. "I should head back," she said, her voice tinged with reluctance. "But... thank you, Eren. For today."

Eren turned his head slightly toward her, giving her an expressionless nod. "I should be the one thanking you for giving me the time of day Rias."

She laughed as she gave him a quick hug goodbye.

It was warm.

With that, she stood up, the spell of the moment slowly breaking as reality beckoned Eren back. But even as Rias walked away, the echoes of their conversation lingered, a quiet reminder that moments like these, fleeting as they were, could be cherished, held onto even when everything else seemed to fade away into a blur of duty.

He closed his eyes once more, letting the peace of the evening wash over him. The past and future were still there, seared into his memory, but for now, they were distant, muted. For now, he could simply be.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He was close. Just a little more, and he'd find his answer.

And so, he sat there, letting the world fade into the background, finding a rare and precious solace in the silence.

No future. No past. Just the chirping of crickets, the cool evening wind and the light breathing of a dying boy on the bench.

********

Omake: Another branch by Anonymous over on AO3​

"Kuroka, Shirone, it's time to wake up and come to breakfast." A firm yet monotone voice cut through the stillness of their room, accompanied by a gentle knocking on the door. "And Shirone, remember to brush your teeth before you come down." The voice added, carrying a tone of practiced patience.

The two nekoshou siblings, nestled together in their shared bed, slowly stirred from their slumber. Their eyes fluttered open, squinting against the piercing brightness of the morning sun that streamed through the window. The comforting aroma of breakfast began to waft into their room, coaxing them from their groggy state. With a collective yawn, Kuroka, the elder sister, was the first to move, her limbs heavy with sleep as she shuffled towards the bathroom. Shirone, the younger, followed suit, her movements still sluggish but eager.

Upon entering the kitchen, they were immediately enveloped by the irresistible scents of freshly made pancakes, crispy bacon, and warm, fragrant bread. The kitchen was a visual feast, with the breakfast table laid out with an impressive spread of their favorite morning treats. Behind this culinary display stood their caretaker, Eren Yeager. Despite his young age, he maintained an air of serene composure.

"Good morning, Eren," Kuroka mumbled, her voice still thick with the remnants of sleep. Her greeting was accompanied by a half-hearted stretch.

Eren Yeager looked up from where he was arranging a few last items on the table. His expression remained unchanged, revealing nothing but calm stoicism. "Good morning, Kuroka, Shirone. I trust you both slept well through the night?"

Shirone, her eyes still heavy but brightening at the sight of the breakfast spread, managed a shy smile. "Good morning, onii-chan."

Eren gestured towards the table with a casual wave of his hand. "I've prepared your favorites today. There are fluffy pancakes dripping with syrup, crispy bacon just the way you like it, and fresh, warm bread. Feel free to help yourselves, but do remember to leave some of the cookies for me." He indicated a plate stacked with tempting cookies, the aroma of which mingled with the other scents in the kitchen.

Without further ado, Kuroka and Shirone took their seats at the table, their previous grogginess quickly dissipating in the face of such a delectable breakfast. They dug in eagerly, savoring each bite of the Senjutsu-enhanced cuisine that seemed to elevate their morning routine to an extraordinary level.


As they enjoyed their meal, Eren, now sipping from a steaming cup of coffee, casually dropped a new piece of information into the conversation. "Oh, I should have mentioned this earlier, but in a few days, we'll be welcoming another resident into the house."

The announcement was met with a brief moment of confusion. Kuroka, with her fork halfway to her mouth, looked up with an expression of surprise and curiosity. Shirone, who was in the midst of slicing her pancakes, paused and glanced at Eren, her eyes wide with a mix of intrigue and concern.

Eren's face remained as impassive as ever, his gaze steady as he continued. "Yes, a new resident will be joining us shortly. I thought it prudent to inform you now so you're not caught off guard."

Kuroka furrowed her brow, her confusion evident. "A new guest? Who exactly are we expecting?"

Eren's response was succinct and direct. "Ophis."

"Oh, she is here already. That was fast." He remarked, looking at the entrance of the kitchen.

Kuroka's eyes widened, her fork momentarily forgotten. "Ophis? The Dragon God of Infinity? That's—wait, what?"

Eren seemed unperturbed by Kuroka's reaction. "Oh, it appears she's already here. That was rather quick."


"I, came for the cookies." At that moment, Ophis, the Dragon God of Infinity, manifested at the entrance of the kitchen. Her presence was both awe-inspiring and oddly serene, a striking contrast to her legendary status. Her gaze swept over the breakfast spread with a detached curiosity before settling on Eren.

Eren didn't even flinch at the appearance of the Dragon God of Infinity. Instead, he continued calmly sipping his coffee, his eyes flicking briefly to acknowledge her arrival. "Good morning, Ophis. I trust you found your way here without issue?"

Ophis gave a small nod, her attention already diverted to the array of breakfast foods laid out before her. "Yes. I'm here for the cookies. Where are they?"

Kuroka and Shirone exchanged bewildered glances, their earlier drowsiness now replaced by a mix of shock and apprehension. Kuroka managed to muster the courage to speak, her voice trembling slightly. "Eren, is this really...?"

Eren placed his cup down with deliberate care and rested his hands on the table. "Yes, Ophis has joined us for breakfast. I had anticipated her arrival would be tomorrow or later, but it seems she's arrived sooner than expected."

Shirone's voice quivered as she asked, "Is she... staying with us?"

Eren's tone remained detached as he responded, "Indefinitely. Ophis will be residing here for the foreseeable future."

Ophis, still by the entrance, seemed unaffected by the ongoing conversation. She walked over to the table, her gaze lingering on the breakfast spread as if she were inspecting an object of mild interest.

Kuroka, trying to wrap her mind around the sudden development, broke the silence. "Eren, why didn't you mention this sooner? I mean, having the Dragon God of Infinity here is... quite significant."

Eren's gaze met Kuroka's with the same impassive expression. "It was a recent development, and I deemed it unnecessary to alarm you until all details were confirmed. Besides, Ophis's presence should not disrupt your daily routine."

At that moment, Ophis, having located the cookies, began to indulge in them with remarkable enthusiasm. She picked up a plate and proceeded to devour the cookies, leaving a trail of crumbs around her and on the table. Her eyes briefly met Shirone's, and though her expression remained neutral, there was a fleeting hint of curiosity in her gaze. A tendril, composed of a substance reminiscent of bone, Eren's true ability, extended toward Ophis, wiping her face clean with a napkin and towel.

Ophis, engrossed in her cookie feast, did not even notice the tendril's efforts to tidy her up. The scene in the kitchen was nothing short of surreal—a juxtaposition of an ordinary breakfast against the backdrop of extraordinary company. Kuroka and Shirone continued to process the bizarre turn of events, their feelings a tumultuous mix of confusion and awe.

The scene in the kitchen was surreal, a striking contrast between ordinary breakfast and extraordinary company. Kuroka and Shirone continued to process the bizarre turn of events with a mix of confusion and awe.

Kuroka finally cleared her throat, striving to regain her composure amidst the chaos. "Eren, I still don't understand. Why does she need to stay here indefinitely? What's the purpose of her visit?"

Ophis, with her mouth full of cookies, managed to answer in between bites. "Great Red, is noisy. Gap, don't have a cookie."

Kuroka and Shirone exchanged incredulous looks, their mouths hanging open as they tried to reconcile Ophis's cryptic statement with the gravity of their new houseguest. The atmosphere in the kitchen was thick with tension and confusion, the weight of the unexpected visitor settling heavily upon them.

Kuroka, always the one to seek clarity, finally spoke up. "So... Great Red is causing noise, and that's why Ophis is here?"

Eren's response was simple and direct. "Yes."



The conversation was abruptly interrupted as Eren, carrying the used plates and glasses to the sink, casually added, "By the way, the current White Dragon Emperor will be arriving here tomorrow as another new resident."

Kuroka's eyes widened in disbelief, and she stared at Eren, her mouth forming the words, "Eren, what the fu—"

********

What-if Omake: Of Simpler Times by

Netra

over on Spacebattles​

Principal Sona Sitri sat prim in her white button-up blouse and pencil skirt, reviewing several documents neatly stacked on her desk.

A black fountain pen with a tasteful gold tip moved smoothly and accurately between her fingers, signing documents and initialing others.

She looked every bit the professional she was. Even if her looks were what any would call beautiful, she was very much a real woman with real responsibilities, and that included running her academy.

"Thank you, Tsubaki," Sona nodded to her queen and vice-principal as she placed a hot cup of tea on her mahogany desk.

She gave a short bow and stepped back, taking up position at the corner of her well furnished office.

The Sitri heiress let out a silent sigh as she sipped at the warm drink, the steam warming her face before it was swept away by the slight breeze from the open window. She looked outside to see the newly remade artificial sun dip below the horizon, the sky lit up by beautiful shades of oranges and reds.

Her phone buzzed as she received a message that she wasn't in the mood to read. Instead, she took a quick glance at the time.

Friday, June 7

5:50 PM


A few more minutes and she'd be off, but before that….
Sona allowed herself a brief moment to savor the peace. The warm tea, the gentle breeze, and the picturesque view of the artificial sunset all served as a welcome respite from the responsibilities that weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Even now, her mind was already calculating, planning the next steps she would need to take to ensure the smooth running of Atlas Academy.

Four Years.

Four Years since she stood on that center podium in the massive amphitheater and finally fulfilled her lifelong dream of opening her school.

She could still recall the thunderous applause that echoed through the amphitheater, the faces of countless beings—Angels, Devils, Fallen, Yokai, humans, and many others—looking up at her with a mixture of hope and curiosity. It had been a monumental moment, not just for her, but for all those who believed in the vision she had fought so hard to bring to life.

A place where knowledge transcended the boundaries of race, where history was taught not through the lens of victors or the defeated but with impartiality and a commitment to truth.

She had expected the complexities of managing such a diverse and powerful student body to be no easy task, as each race brought with it centuries of history, conflicts, and prejudices.

But….to her surprise, it turned out to be more manageable than she had initially feared. While the challenges were certainly there, they were often outweighed by the remarkable willingness of the students and faculty to adapt and learn from one another.

It wasn't that there were no conflicts—there were plenty, as could be expected when bringing together beings from realms that had often been at odds for millennia and had only recently seen peace. Yet, the environment Sona had painstakingly cultivated within the academy seemed to encourage a different approach to these old rivalries. Rather than allowing grudges and prejudices to fester, the academy's culture promoted dialogue and mutual understanding.

The curriculum, carefully designed to challenge preconceived notions and encourage critical thinking, had played a significant role in this.

Courses like "Comparative Mythology" and "Inter-realm Diplomacy" required students to step outside their comfort zones and consider perspectives vastly different from their own. History classes were transformative, offering unbiased accounts of events that many students had only ever heard through the biased narratives of their own cultures.

Sona had watched as Fallen and Devils, who once could barely sit in the same room without tension, began to engage in thoughtful discussions about the wars of their predecessors.

What had surprised her the most was the genuine friendships that had formed across racial lines. Students who might have been sworn enemies outside the academy walls found themselves working together on projects, sharing meals, and even forming study groups. It was a testament to the power of education and the environment Sona had created—one where knowledge and understanding were valued above all else.

Her peerage, too, had risen to the occasion, each member embracing their roles with a dedication that exceeded her expectations.

The faculty had proven to be more adaptable and open-minded than she had anticipated. Teachers from various realms had come together, sharing their unique expertise and learning from one another. This enriched the academic environment, making it a true melting pot of knowledge and cultures.

Sona knew that the success of Atlas Academy wasn't solely due to her efforts. It was the result of a collective commitment—students, faculty, and staff all working towards a common goal. The vision she had nurtured for so long had resonated with others, and they had made it their own.

Her dream, her school, was a resounding success.

And that terrified her.

Everything was going too well.

Her last assassination attempt had been... two years and six—no, seven months ago. It was by a member of one of the pillar families she had consigned to the grave in Agreas. House Paimon, she remembered—the last of his line, and the last to meet his end.

Though Sona knew it wasn't her place to question her sister's security detail, she still couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.

Call it a force of habit, but when everything seemed fine, it usually meant something was definitely not fine. Maybe they were disguised as students? Teachers? Maybe all the previous ones were just sent to test the waters, while the real assassin waits for the most opportune time to strike? Maybe….maybe….

"Kaichou?" her queen cleared her throat.

….maybe she needed a break. Again.

The 25-year-old Devil sighed.

"Please get on with it, Tsubaki."

Said vice-principal adjusted her glasses and opened the small notebook she always carried, expression calm and composed as ever.

"Academy operations continue to run smoothly," Tsubaki began, her voice steady and professional. "Attendance is at an all-time high, with enrollment numbers exceeding projections by 8% for the current semester. The new Cultural Anthropology of the Supernatural course is receiving positive feedback from both students and faculty. There have been no major incidents reported within the last week, and disciplinary actions are down by 12% compared to the previous month."

Good.

She paused briefly to let the information sink in before continuing. "Security protocols remain effective. We've had no breaches, and our monitoring systems show no signs of suspicious activity. Patrols have been increased in key areas, particularly around the dormitories and the central courtyard, in line with the upcoming end-of-year examinations. Additionally, the newly installed magical barriers have been tested and are functioning as expected. They are set to replace Lord Beelzebub's earlier prototype within the week."

Wonderful.

Tsubaki's gaze met Sona's as she continued, "The faculty has requested more resources for the expanded curriculum, specifically for the Human Integration into the Supernatural World (HISW) department. There's also a proposal from the student council to host an inter-realm debate next month, which they believe will further promote unity among the diverse student body."

Splendid.

She flipped to the next page of her notebook, her tone becoming slightly more somber. "On a less positive note, there have been minor tensions between certain student groups, particularly among the junior members of the Chinese and Japanese magician associations. Nothing alarming, but it may require a proactive approach to prevent escalation."

Ugh….she'd have to set them straight come tomorrow.

"Finally, young Millicas is currently at the top of his batch," Tsubaki continued, her tone reflecting a hint of pride. "He's demonstrated exceptional aptitude in his studies and is well-regarded among his peers. His scores for the midterm examinations across all subjects have not fallen below his consistent 98% average. If he maintains it, he'll have a 4.0 GPA by the end of the semester. "

"I'm sure Rias will be more than pleased with her nephew," Sona said, her tone softening as she thought of her best friend and rival.

Tsubaki closed the notebook and looked at Sona, her expression softening just a bit. "Overall, everything is under control, Kaichou. But as always, we remain vigilant."

Sona leaned back slightly in her chair, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup as she absorbed the report.

"Thank you, Tsubaki," Sona said, her voice measured and calm, though a trace of that underlying anxiety seeped through. "As always, your thoroughness is appreciated."

Tsubaki inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, the ever-efficient vice-principal already preparing to address whatever task Sona might assign next.

The Bell rang. Sona eyed her phone.

6:30 PM

Night classes should be starting soon.

Her eyes met her Queen's with a nod as an unspoken message was communicated between them.

"I'll leave everything to you."

She rose from her seat, put on her tailored blazer and approached the teleportation circle leading to her destination. The circle glowed faintly as she stepped into it, the familiar hum of magical energy resonating in the air.

With a final glance at Tsubaki, who stood ready to oversee the academy in her absence, Sona activated the teleportation spell.

In an instant, the world around her shifted, the office fading away as she was enveloped in a soft blue light.

********

After waiting a few seconds for good measure, the vice-president gave the secret listeners the green light.

"She's in."

********

The scent of saltwater and the sound of waves greeted her senses.

Her work flats sank slightly into the warm white sand.
She took a moment to steady herself, the gentle breeze tugging at the hem of her top and playing with the strands of her dark hair.

The ground was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the sky above her painted in hues of deep blue and orange. The sun had just set, leaving behind a trail of colors that reflected off the calm ocean that stretched endlessly before her.

Ahead, nestled amidst the greenery and facing the pristine beach, was a 'small home'. It stood tall and elegant, its windows illuminated from within, casting a warm, inviting light that beckoned her inside.

She walked slowly, the familiar path guiding her steps. The sand beneath her feet transitioned to the smooth stone of the pathway, and the soothing sounds of the ocean dimmed as she approached the entrance.

The wooden door creaked open as a relieved Sona Sitri finally entered.

"I'm home!"

Silence.

Was she too early?

Aunty or Kuroka should've already been here by now.

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she placed her footwear beside a nearby chair and shrugged off her blazer, draping it over the back.

She stepped further inside, her feet thudding lightly against the polished wooden floor.

The cozy interior was a stark contrast to the grand, imposing halls of Atlas Academy. Here, everything felt intimate, personal. With walls adorned with framed photographs that captured moments of joy and serenity.

Her eyes swept across her home, noting the dining table elegantly set for two, with a crisp white tablecloth draped over it. She noticed the faint hum of the oven coming from the kitchen.

Her eyebrow twitched. So they wanted to play it like this then? Which room was it this time? The bedroom? The study? bathroom? Or was it the attic? Didn't matter. Once she'd find them she would—

Sona yelped as arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into an embrace.

The suddenness of it caught her off guard, but before she could even think of resisting, she felt familiar lips press against her own.

Her heart leaped in her chest, and the rest of the world fell away.

Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, pulling him close as she eagerly returned the kiss.

When the need for air became too great, they broke apart, gasping for breath as their eyes locked on each other.

Violet orbs gazed into green.

Her face flushed as he smiled.

Eren Yeager, smiled.

"Happy Birthday Sona."

The woman sighed as she rested her head against his shoulder.

Her worries were a distant memory.

"Mhhhhmm."

"What was that?"

"I said I missed you," she mumbled.

Eren chuckled, his voice a low, pleasant rumble.

It took her the good part of four years to get used to this side of the once dour and taciturn boy.

"So how was work today?"

"Fine," the woman murmured, breathing in his scent.

"Just fine?"

"Mhmmm."

"Hmmm, that's it?"

"It's fine, Eren."

"If you say so."

He gently rubbed her back, the sensation sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

They stayed like that for a while, content to simply be in each other's presence, cuddling on the plush velvet sofa all the while. Her glasses sat forgotten on a nearby coffee table.

"You smell good," she breathed.

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I really don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Okay maybe I kind of do."

"You do."

"Alright, fine."

Sona chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. She felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, its sound was always soothing, reassuring to her.

There was a time when she believed that making small talk with Eren was nothing more than a distant fantasy. His circumstances had made it clear that he couldn't, wouldn't ever be able to smile and laugh like this.

It took her some time to adjust to the fact that he no longer spoke in that lifeless, hollow tone he used to have before being reincarnated.

RIIIIING

"That's the oven," her husband said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before sitting up and heading to the kitchen. He smiled, "You should go take a bath and get changed, everything will be ready when you're done."

Sona wanted to argue and help him set the table, but she just wasn't up to it today. Besides, there was something comforting about relying on him that she didn't want to let go of.

After taking a quick shower and getting changed, Sona descended from the master bedroom, her hair still damp.

In front of her was a table for two, lit by the gentle glow of the house's dim lighting. The rich aroma of food wafted through the air, and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Sona wiped her damp hair as she watched Eren work. Even after all this time, she was still stunned by how different he looked. Gone was the physique of a nursing patient. Instead, a toned body and broad shoulders greeted her. He was lean, but not overly muscular, the kind that would draw the attention of anyone who saw him.

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as her thoughts went back to the present. The heiress took a good look at the array of food displayed before her.

"Pizza Margherita, Korean Fried Chicken, and French Fries?"

"There's a salad too."

Sona playfully rolled her eyes before taking a seat.

Her husband served the pizza first, placing a slice on her plate before getting his own. He then poured them each a glass of lemon iced tea, the rich, brown liquid flowing smoothly from the bottle.

They ate in comfortable silence, the only sound being the clinking of silverware against china.

Sona was no stranger to luxury, but even she had to admit that Eren had a way of making even the simplest meals seem special.

The pizza was nothing short of divine. The Italian dish, though simple in nature, was elevated to a level that even the finest chefs would envy. The crust was perfectly thin and crispy, with just the right balance of chewiness. Each bite exploded in her mouth with tomatoes that were bursting with flavor, paired with the creamy melted mozzarella.

The Fried chicken was crisp on the outside with a glaze that shimmered like liquid gold. The first bite was an explosion of flavor—crunchy, sweet, and spicy. The chicken was impossibly tender, each piece seemingly infused with the perfect balance of seasoning. The skin crackled with each bite while the meat remained succulent and juicy, practically melting in the mouth.

Paired with the kimchi fried rice, the combination was a match made in culinary heaven. The tangy, slightly fermented flavor of the rice complimented the chicken perfectly. Crispy chicken skin crackling between her teeth, followed by the soft, piping hot rice.

Even the fries were unexpectedly delicious. Crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and seasoned with just the right amount of salt, they tasted as if each potato had been individually coaxed into reaching its fullest potential.

Oh, and the salad was great too.

Sona swallowed another bite of pizza and sighed in contentment.

Senjutsu really was wonderful.

"Verdict?"

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, "Delicious."

Eren smiled, his green eyes shining with pride, and rightfully so. Three years of working as the sous chef for Kiba's cafe/restaurant was paying back in dividends.

Sharpening his culinary skills took a lot of trial and error in the kitchen, with Rias and Kiba helping him unlearn some of the outdated techniques from his time with the Scouts, while simultaneously introducing him to new methods.

Knowing him, Sona wasn't surprised to see that he'd gotten this far with a mere three years of training. Eren was a surprisingly quick learner, when he'd put his mind to it.

Of course, his ability to grow perfect ingredients didn't hurt either.

As Eren began to clear the plates, Sona finished off the last few bites of her pizza, washing it down with a gulp of iced tea. This is the life... she mused contentedly as she sat back, her stomach full.

She slumped onto the couch, lazily flicking on their 65-inch OLED TV. Any sense of satisfaction she felt vanished the moment the screen lit up.

The TV flickered to life, and the image of a grim-faced news anchor filled the screen. His voice, steady but laced with tension, echoed through the room.

"—radical extremist group that has been linked to a series of coordinated attacks across multiple realms, with authorities confirming at least twenty-two fatalities and over a hundred injured. The group, which claims to deify the boy of the Unified Dream, Eren Yea—"

She switched it off.

Sona gripped the remote tightly, her knuckles turning white. Eren, who had just finished stacking the dishes, paused mid-step, his expression hardening as he glanced at the screen.

For a split second, Sona thought she saw a glimmer of nihilism return to his eyes.

"Maybe I should pay them a visit one of these days."

"Eren…."

"I'm kidding. I know your sister and the others can handle it," he said, giving her a quick peck on the forehead before settling down beside her.

Sona shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder, the weight of the day finally melting away in his presence. For a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the silence between them stretch out like a comforting blanket.

"I hate it," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like no matter how much progress we make, there's always someone trying to drag us back."

Eren's arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer. "It's how the world works, Sona. Some people just can't help but fight."

She sighed, knowing he was right, but it didn't make it any easier. The academy, her dream, was meant to be a place of unity, but even now, there were forces determined to break that fragile peace.

"Enough of the dreary stuff," her husband said, his voice lightening as he gently nudged her. "What movie do you wanna watch?"

Sona smiled mischievously.

There was a reason she never asked him where Mikasa and Kuroka were at this time. In this polygamous relationship of theirs, it was an unspoken understanding that Sona was considered the least assertive of the three women.

"Well…."

She ought to fix that.

"Well….what?" her husband raised an eyebrow, no doubt knowing where this was leading to.

"....I actually had something else in mind," she couldn't help herself from blushing despite her best efforts to appear as confident as either of the two aforementioned women.

Sona followed his gaze as he broke eye contact and stared at a nearby clock.

9:34 PM

"Bit early isn't it?"

"If you're not in the mood, we can always just—Eep!"

Sona couldn't contain her giggles as Eren lifted her off the couch and started planting kisses on her neck. She instinctively held on to his shoulders for support, her laughter bubbling up.

Whatever she was about to say next was silenced by a kiss that continued as they ascended the stairs and entered the master bedroom.

********

Back in the Underworld, within the Sitri manor, the current Leviathan bumped fists with her Bishop, the latter's seven tails swished happily as she nursed an infant with a bottle of milk.

The pawn, however, seemed content to simply observe the scrying spell, a satisfied expression and a visible smile on her face.

********

AN by Netra:

Thought I'd write this since I'm stuck on a really looooong plane ride so I thought ah screw it why not, and pulled out the pc and started typing since the idea just wouldn't leave my head.

This omake is set four years after the epilogue, where (in my headcanon) Eren has settled down with Mikasa, Kuroka, and Sona in a mansion on Rias's private island, after the Gremory gladly gave it to them. After being reincarnated, he got a job at Isaiah's bakery where he honed his culinary skills with the help of Rias and Kiba.

Present day, everyone knows who Eren is: Human, Devil, Angel, Fallen, Yokai, God, etc. The human's especially, venerate him for revealing the existence of the supernatural, which makes sense. I mean imagine it, you're doing your thing and suddenly your consciousness gets pulled into another dimension where some guy tells you the likes of God, Satan, Zeus, Odin, and every possible pantheon of gods actually exist and aren't just stories. Yeah I'd prolly be singing his praises too. Man leaked the entire group chat.

So…..Eren as a husband. I am of the opinion that Eren without his burdens would be unrecognizable. He's been defined by them for so long that without them, I could only picture him as a himbo. Eren, at his core, is an overly-emotional person. When he hates, he hates with every fiber of his being. When he cries, he cries like a baby. When he loves….well the closest we have is the cabin scene from the show, but even there he's just acting and playing house. So I kinda bounced a couple ideas here and there to see what'd work, and this is the conclusion I reached. Love it or hate it, it's how I picture a retired Eren to be.

Anyway that's about it. See ya and thank you to ReadingDangerously for writing this wonderful story.

********

I would like to thank every single person who took the time and effort to make these wonderful Omakes and hope any readers will as well.

Now, what was my surprise?

I have created my own Omake as thanks... or at least I intended to. In classic ReadingDangerously fashion, it grew to be over 10k words and still isn't finished. I wanted to get it out today, but since I only started on Nov 1st, it won't be ready until Friday... and I might split it into two parts.

It's no secret it's been quiet around here, and it's because I decided to take a bit of time off from writing to relax. I disconnected from almost everything on the internet and just took the time to catch up on a few hobbies I've let go of in the last few years since I started writing.

Naturally, this made me want to write something.

After my omake for On The Bench is done this weekend, I will be working full time on an original story, interspersed with Omakes for Rapturous Rhapsody and a (long) one-shot fanfiction I have planned. The original story will start to be released when the first volume is roughly done to give me some breathing room, but once that happens, I will begin releasing it weekly on Fridays.
Essentially, after this weekend OTB will officially receive no more postings, and I will move on to my next work.

I hope you enjoyed these wonderful omakes by some talented writers and I will see you all on Friday.
 

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