Disclaimer: I own none of the characters!

Notes: I want to dedicate this to my bby Snow Whites Poison Kiss for staying on my ass for the last month about updating this. THIS CHAPTER IS FOR YOU OKAY. And a shoutout to khimairan for talking abuot Twilight WTFS with me last night x3 I'm sorry this took forEVER to get updated but here it is! Enjoy! *3*

So La Trost is a real place. I know, just wait, before I get into this trip just let it be known that La Trost exists. It's a small reserve that's not incredibly far from the city. A little beach town, but because it's so cold, getting in the water was completely out of the question.

Did that stop Connie's dumbass from running to the water as soon as he was out of the car? No. No, it did not. And no, I did not give him one of my jackets. I was cold as fuck and we all told him not to go.

I also got in the water but I was smart enough not to get my jackets wet. That's basic knowledge.

But we settled down and Armin asked me something about a driftwood fire. Now, I'm no rocket scientist but I'm pretty sure driftwood comes from the ocean. And that means it's wet. And generally, wet wood (I want to make a sex joke but I just can't) doesn't catch fire.

As everyone gathered around to light a miniature beach fire, I decided not to question this too much. It was a relaxing day. There was no need to argue or fight or cause any unnecessary thinking. The fire was warm, we were all happy and passing around a bag of marshmallows, to accompany our sandwich lunches.

Unless you absolutely hated being outside and you're super antisocial then there would be no reason to hate this. Or I guess maybe the cold or allergies, whatever.

Besides the class, a few other people joined us. Some guy named Thomas, a guy named Franz, his girlfriend, Hannah, and then this Twilight Sparkle looking douchebag whose name I didn't bother to pick up. But as people began to scatter around, going off in pairs of twos and threes, I decided I didn't want to hang around with people I really didn't know. I was there to chill with my friends, after all.

I was about to chase after Armin and Mikasa, who were making their way to the water, when that guy made his way over to sit by me.

Now I could go on, in an awkward teenage, hormone-fueled monologue, about how smooth his skin was and about how bold his cheekbones were and how soft his hair looked and how much of a pretty face he had. But I'm not. Because this guy looked two hooves short of being on My Little Pony. I'm pretty sure he had a cutie mark (read: tramp stamp) somewhere and like fuck if I was getting close enough to find out.

I took a sip of my beer (oh yeah, Mikasa brought beer) and stared him down.

"You're Eren Jaeger, aren't you?"

There was something about the way he said my name that pissed me off and turned me on at the same time. "Yeah."

"I'm Jean Kirschtein."

"Oh! You're Mr. Kirschtein's son!" I still didn't believe in the existence of the fabled Mr. Kirschtein, but for the sake of not looking like a total dumbass I went with it.

We ended up talking about cars. Just general chit-chat. Nothing too deep. Connie and Sasha came back, holding more marshmallows, accompanied by chocolate and graham crackers. I was all for s'mores at the moment.

"It sort of sucks that none of the Smiths could come down here," Sasha said between bites. I don't know how she managed to make and eat five s'more sandwiches in less than two minutes. I was sure I had witnessed a world record be broken and had failed to record it. But Jean grew really tense in a way someone does when they've had too much chili and need to run to the bathroom.

"The Smiths don't come here," he said, ending the conversation. Sasha shrugged.

"Okay but why?" I asked. As if I cared the conversation was ended.

Jean narrowed his eyes. "Because. They don't."

He stood up, brushing his hands off on his jeans (haha) and started to trot away like I had broken his circle of magic and friendship. I hurried after him, abandoning my s'mores to Sasha.

"Did they violate some law? Did one of them have public sex and get banned? Did one of them jack off into the water? I bet it was Auruo."


"You know he doesn't get laid. What happened?"

"I'm not really supposed to be talking about this," Jean said. I snorted.

"Like seriously, who am I even going to tell?"

We stood at the water's edge, the cool wind blowing through our hair. He sighed and gestured for me to follow. We walked to some dark rocks, sitting on the shore. He sat down first and patted the space next to him. Like what the fuck, man? It's like he's trying to get me to watch some scary ass movie with him on his sofa. We're not twelve.

"Do you like scary stories?" he asked.

We may be twelve.

I sat down, careful not to fall into the water. "Sure."

"Alright, so…legend has it that we're descendents of horses, brought over from France."

I stared, blankly, and suddenly remembered the golden rule of kindergarten. There were three types of girls.

Those who loved dragons.

Those who loved wolves.

Those who loved horses.

It was apparent Jean fell into that last group. This was what I had feared, coming to a new state. Not the new school. Not the weather. Not living with my awkward as fuck dad. But meeting a brony. A real life brony. And the only fucking brony in the state of Washington was sitting next to me with this excited grin on his almost-cute face.

It was a nightmare (no horse pun intended). This was a scary story.

"But then there are those known as the cold ones," he continued, still stoic. "The ones not allowed to step foot on this land. According to the legends, my great-great grandfather made a treaty with the cold ones to keep them off our land."


"They are our natural enemies, the cold ones. But the particular clan that came here, when my ancestor was alive, was different. They didn't prey on innocent people. So they were allowed to live here as long as they stayed away from here."

"So…the Smiths? You haven't explained them yet. I take it they're descendents of that clan?"

"Supposedly, they are that same clan," Jean concluded.

It was obvious Jean had taken the "magic" in "Friendship is Magic" too seriously. But I nodded along because I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"So what is a cold one?" I humored him. I had to.

"A vampire."



I threw my hands up. Levi was already hot. But let's take a moment to imagine an au with vampire Levi. Hell, fucking, yes. And by vampire I mean an Anne Rice-Lestat vampire. Throw me on the bed, spank my ass, bite my shoulders and make me your bitch, type of vampire. Not some lame-ass sparklepire.

Hell yes.

But I nudged Jean with my raised hand, a gesture of good humor, but apparently pushed too hard. He lost his balance and fell right into the water like some dumb klutz. He stood up, shaking his hands off and glared at me.

"Sorry!" I cried. "And I really mean it. I'm not just saying it."

"Yeah, whatever. Give me one of your jackets to wear so I don't fucking freeze," he said, pulling his shirt off over his head.

I unzipped my jacket and looked up to hand it to him. His face may be just cute but his body was lean, toned and muscular. I felt my stomach tighten as he put on my jacket and I reached out to stop him, hand pressed against his hard abs.


"Oh no," I whispered, eyes filled with despair and locked on the V-shape of his hips. "You're hot too."

Life wasn't fair.