#I’m so sorry for the cute rabbit character’s story being so depressing

[moonlight-coffeebean-147]

Angst… this is legit just Usagi Angst. Particularly revolving around the aftermath of their overblotting.

First these two sketches which encapsulates Usagi’s mindset when in their Overblot. Some of those things I don’t know if I want to go into right now because… it gets dark and extremely depressing. As well as the fact that as I believe I’ve mentioned in a past post, a lot of Usagi’s inner turmoil is based on my own mental struggles in my high school years. Without getting too into it, just know that my mental health was at an all time low, my mind went to some dark places, and it was during a time where I could not afford counseling. That and Usagi and I have the same problem of letting the negative things pile up and pretending everything’s fine for the sake of not worrying others.

I’m currently at that stage where I’m fleshing out Usagi’s background a bit more because I do not want it to come across as just me venting and because Usagi is not a self insert. The mental struggle stuff and them being an artist is real, everything else isn’t. So overtime I hope to eventually find that balance. But until then, we got ideas.

So with that said

Notes:

- It’s pretty obvious now that I love using Madoka related poses for references. Like when it comes to its themes surrounding grief, I think they match Usagi pretty well.

- One thing they would mention in their flashback is that whenever the Nights Raven guys would threaten or insult them they would mostly take it in stride…. because it wasn’t anything they haven’t heard before. Both from their human world classmates and their own stepmother. The saddest part being that they’ve actually been told and called worse from those people. I think it would horrify some of the guys that no amount of insults or vore threats would ever compare to what they’ve heard in the past.

- Usagi has been through so much shit in the past that they cannot comprehend how people are nice to them. Like in Book 1 when Ace punches Riddle after insulting Usagi (mc in game), they were legit shocked… because those kinds of comments were normalized to them.

- They’re bleeding from their mouth and nose because I believe that a human going through Overblot would take a massive toll on their body. Usagi has survived many things but this is the thing that almost kills them. Like I imagine they don’t wake up immediately after the flashback stuff like the others have. It legitimately makes the others believe that they died but then they wake up (maybe through the power of love or something).

- Usagi in their flashbacks sharing one last moment with their father it’s just… I legit started crying when making that one hah…. I’m not joking

Extra note I forgot:

- I always imagine that Usagi loses the heart hairclip they always wear after they overblotted but one of the guys managed to save it. Doesn’t change have after Usagi turns back to normal they legitimately freak out because they think they lost it for good. That hairclip is one of the last things they got from their dad before he passed away. So anything happening to it would be devastating to them.

In conclusion

Usagi for as much cute stuff as I draw them in, is a very tragic character, and is definitely one of my twst ocs with the most tragic backstory…. There are others but we’ll get there when we get there.

[crazychaoticizzy]

reblogging again because I read the epilogue ✨

does she grow her own strawberries in her garden because it would be so cute if she does

“Wow, mom. That’s… wow” -me too Nia idk what the hell to say either 😭

i’m so fucking sad I like genuinely cannot even put it into words that whole last chapter had a happy ending but damn did it depress me 😭

OH MY GOD SHES FLIPPING THROUGH THE PICTURES

i can’t help but think that when Y/n dies she might be treated by Marilyn Monroe in the sense that her home will be destroyed and her belongings put in different museums for people to gawk at without knowing the meaning but also i don’t think Nia would let that happen so ✨

HER PICTURE WITH ARMIN IN THE BAKERY JUST MADE ME BURST INTO TEARS OH MY GOD

STOP “THE ORIGINAL ELDIAN DEVILS”

STOP “FIRST LOVES”

oh my fucking god

Nia and I are literally the same because when my dad tells me about his growing up I do the same thing 😭

BYE- “IM GLAD MOM PICKED YOU” OH MY FUCKING GOD 😭😭😭

lmao not her fucking roasting her mom

Aunt Hange 🥺

Tay I can’t fucking take this why must you make me cry at midnight like this

EVERYONE IS THERE OH MY GOD

MAKING CINNAMON ROLLS IN A BAKERY AND STARS ON A ROOFTOP. OH MY GOD STOP I REMEMBER THOSE SCENES ALMOST FRAME BY FRAME BECAUSE THEY WERE LIKE THE ONLY ONES I COULD EVER ACTUALLY IMAGINE SO CLEARLY THEY WERE MT FAVORITES

girl i’m wondering who your stalker was too 💀 i’m pretty sure you told me it was Jean but considering how much you changed since you told me your original plans i’m not so sure

OH MY GOD WAS THE PICTURE SHE AND NIA SAW A HINT TO WHO IT WAS??? BECAUSE SHE COULDNT REMEMVER WHO TOOK IT

i need to shut up and read it’s literally gonna be in the next few paragraphs i bet

“and you’re one true love was the happiness you experienced as you grew old with your friends and family by your side.” 🥹

oh shit i’m scared

i was just so happy and my heart just fucking plummeted 💀

Eren being conflicted on how to feel is SUCH GOOD WRITING OH MY GOD BECAUSE DEEP DOWN HES STILL HOPING TO SEE THE KID THAT LIKES DINOSAURS 😭

Connie’s still a bitch but his development is amazing 🌈

oh my fucking god there’s no way i’m crying over fucking CONNIE

oh my god

i’m so

i don’t know what to say

first off WHO WAS HER STALKER??? DID I MISS IT???

AND ALSO DID YN EVER FIND OUT THAT MIKASA HAD FEELINGS FOR HER??

second

i am still so speechless

this is by far the best fanfiction i havee ever read. it was crafted so beautifully and it’s added more to my thoughts about the world and people which is something I find fascinating and it’s so-

before I go down a rabbit hole of that. your writing in this is absolutely phenomenal. the way you wrote each character and how they all developed differently was so well dont and the lines were so blurred. there was no clear good or bad the further we went on in the story because everyone had done something they regret

this story was so beautiful and I’m so thankful to have been here since the beginning even if it took me forever to actually finish it

anyways a side note to make you depressed since you made me depressed 😊

imagine if on the set of the movie about her life Y/n has to excuse herself so many times because all of the actors look like everyone she once knew and it overwhelms her because they’re no longer there for her to interact with and be people with

another thing is if she’s looking at the actors and thinking they all look like everyone but maybe she thinks “He doesn’t have the same freckles Armin has” and keeps picking those small details out about everyone

like she just keeps thinking “his nose isn’t as straight as Levi’s was” “his eyes aren’t the same shade as Eren’s” and so on

anyways is time for me reopen conversations uhm… i might get annoying sorry

FIVE HUSBANDS

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐄 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

♡ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: eren, armin, connie, jean, levi, & reiner x celebrity reader

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Plans, promises, & proposals have begun. Your next marriage comes about in an unexpected way. The celebrities of Los Angeles are hoping for peace, but a war for peace has never been an easy fight, and this particular battle will leave you forever changed. In the end, your one true love will always win.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || MINORS DNI || DARK CONTENT — fem reader, modern/celebrity au, smut, heavy angst, marriage, divorce, pregnancy, cheating, grief, violence & blood, gun mentions, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of false imprisonment, drinking, toxic relationship, manipulation, stalking, murder talk, illness, hospitalization, & major character death. Some of the warnings listed here don’t necessarily apply to this part, but the series as a whole.

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 25k

♡ — 𝐀/𝐍: Hi everyone! I can’t believe this series is finally ending. Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and/or left me a message in my inbox. It has meant the world to me. I hope you all have enjoyed spending time with my version of the aot characters and in their crazy world. A big thank you to @spicerackofblorbos for helping me plot the finale. I couldn’t have written an ending I’m proud of without you. I had to post the epilogue separately, so don’t forget to click the link at the bottom of this post once you’re done reading this chapter.

I hope you all enjoy the final part, and please let me know what you think in the comments or in my inbox. Thanks for the support!

— CANADA —

Connie Springer was utterly sick of the entertainment news channels.

He had always despised it — gossipy brats who thought they contributed to society by rambling on and on about celebrities, secretly wishing that they could be one themselves.

Ever since he left Los Angeles that following morning after shooting Eren and that blonde-haired guy, he had done nothing but sit. 

Sit and watch the news. 

Sit on the couch and drink until the bottom of his beer bottles were dry, or until there wasn’t a single drop of golden brown liquid within his whiskey glass. 

His current place of residence was far from extraordinary. It disgusted him. Looked like his childhood home. It was a two-level shack where everything was old, brown, and smelled of dust.

But it was the perfect place to hide from the world. 

His other, more extravagant homes spread out across several different countries would have been too obvious, as right now, he needed to blend in, not stand out.

Even after he poured money into the hands of the Los Angeles police department and justice system, he couldn’t return home just yet.

He might not go to prison for murder — and attempted murder — but his reputation was still hanging on by a thread.

The only choice he had was to give everyone time. Time to move on and worry about the next Hollywood scandal.

Eren Yeager’s unplanned survival made everything tricky. 

He could yap to the cameras and tell everyone that Connie shot him. Even if no one believed the rockstar, his crazy fan girls would certainly take Eren’s side, and CS Records wouldn’t see another dollar from them. 

It also made it more difficult to blame you, which was the only benefit to having let you live that night.

Connie paced around the tiny living room of the tasteless property he had purchased just for situations like this, thinking . . . thinking . . . and thinking.

What could he do with Eren now?

Go back and finish the job, killing him completely? Force him into making music again?

No. That wouldn’t work. No amount of torture would work on a man who stared death in the face and lived.

Plus, fans would undoubtedly be paying attention to the warning signs now.

Thousands of videos with millions of views had gone viral on YouTube and other social media platforms detailing great conspiracy theories about CS Records. They took apart Eren’s lyrics, searching for hidden signs. Zoomed in on his photos to point out bruises that weren’t covered up well — Connie saw to it that the hired makeup artist at the time was now rotting in a refrigerator box on the side of the road — and, in short, everyone debated about what was true and what was a lie. 

Connie would have to clear his name soon. 

He’d have to work hard to save his reputation, if that was possible.

Then there was you. The bitch he wished he shot in the head that night.

He saw every clip of you visiting Eren at the hospital. Witnessed the footage of you leaving the police station, and he even laughed a bit at the Carrie White jokes made in reference to your blood-covered clothes. He saw the broadcasts detailing your residence with Levi Ackerman, then your reunited association with Reiner. 

He saw everything, and then he took everything.

Not only did he drain you completely dry of all of your money down to the last penny, but he owned every song you ever created. He owned everything associated with you.

And if he didn’t own it, he worked closely with the people who did and ensured that you wouldn’t see another dollar from any project. 

Your songs. Your movies. Your commercials. Your perfumes. Your Halloween costumes. Anything. Everything. 

It all belonged to him. 

You had nothing.

You were nothing.

The public notice of your divorce brought great joy and pain. He wanted nothing to do with you, the thought of you made him fucking sick, but after everything you put him through, who did you think you were to divorce him? He was the one who was supposed to make that first move. 

And to pour money into the lap of some divorce court to reduce a six-month process into one that could be handled in a few short weeks? It must have been Levi’s money. Were you in that much of a hurry to leave him? After everything you did to make him miserable? 

One night, Connie followed his usual routine: sitting on the couch with any sort of liquid substance that would burn his throat and numb his pain while turning on the entertainment news station. What he saw made his eyes widen.

The heat that ran through his veins wasn’t from any sort of alcohol. Not at all.

It, instead, was from boiling anger.

The television screen displayed both you and Levi Ackerman. You stood by his side, your manicured hand resting on his shoulder. You wore an engagement ring — an expensive silver piece of gemstone worth a fortune, smiling softly like an idiot as Levi spoke into the invasive microphones right in his face. 

“Y/N and I wanted to go public with the news of our engagement as soon as possible. There has been plenty of speculation and rumors about our relationship . . . our history together . . . and the only thing we can say for certain is that the two of us are madly in love, and we have been for a long time now.” Levi stared right into the camera. “Together, we’ve mourned the loss of our baby. It was made to seem as if Connie Springer was the father, but that wasn’t true. I was. But the only thing we can do now is move forward, let go of the past, and start fresh. And one day, the two of us will try again, and have a proper shot at becoming a family. We are-” 

The television screen went black as Connie grabbed the remote and turned it off. 

But he didn’t stop there. 

He threw the empty glass in his hand at the wall next to the TV, smashing the cup into a mess of shards.

The baby. It was Levi’s. Connie knew it wasn’t his — your doctor indirectly told him that — but now, he knew which lover’s child you tried to trick him with. 

Levi Ackerman.

And now, he had the audacity . . . the nerve . . . the guts . . . to marry you.

Connie wanted to kill him. 

He wanted to shoot him over and over again until the man had more bullets inside of him than blood. 

But he couldn’t. He had already gone too far by killing Armin and shooting Eren. And Levi wasn’t like those two. He wouldn’t be walking down the street holding a slushie. 

He’d be holding a gun. 

Someone like him wouldn’t be easy to kill.

But Connie couldn’t let any of this slide, either. 

An hour had passed. During that time, Connie paced around the living room, stepping on the sharp pieces of glass, which crunched and crackled under the weight of his shoes.

He then went upstairs, walked into the tiny, plain, and dark bedroom, and opened a plastic bag that he grabbed from the top shelf in the reach-in closet, pulling out your old phone to search for Levi’s number before texting him from his new one.

CONNIE: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?

A few minutes later, Levi responded.

LEVI: I’m marrying your ex-wife. What about you?

Quickly, a second message from him appeared on Connie’s screen.

LEVI: Where are you, Connie?

CONNIE:Why would I tell you that?

LEVI: Why wouldn’t you? You plan on coming back to LA eventually, right? Who else would run your shitty company? We’ll see each other again one way or another. 

We should meet in person. 

Connie scoffed a bit as he started to angrily type.

CONNIE: You think I’m stupid enough to agree to that? You’re trying to set me up.

LEVI: Why would I set you up?

I witnessed most of the things you’ve done to other people and kept my mouth shut. We’d both go down together.

I only went on television like that because I knew it would make you reach out to me. I want to make a deal.

I’ll give you all the evidence I have against you. Every bit of it. I’ll even help you clear your name. 

You just have to promise to leave me and Y/N alone. Eren, Jean, and the others as well.

CONNIE: No

LEVI: Don’t you want to come back to LA? Go back to running CS Records? I’m guessing you’re staying in some sort of cheap hideout right now. You own tons of nice homes that you could come back to, and all you have to do is leave us alone.

If I wanted to kill you or get you locked up, I would’ve done it a long time ago, back when you first shot Erwin.

When you think about it, I’m the one who has to put all my faith in you. You could get the evidence from me and then kill any of us afterward. I’m trusting you not to do that, technically.

CONNIE: You really are trying to exchange evidence for peace?

LEVI: Yes.

It was a tempting offer. Connie didn’t know what kind of evidence he had, and while he could have made the evidence disappear from any police station should Levi ever decide to turn it in, the disgraced manager could decide to go public with it instead.

Ruining his reputation could ruin his business.

And with the latest chaos his name had been dragged through, he couldn’t afford to risk it.

It was a fine deal. 

Connie didn’t want you as an artist anymore. He clearly didn’t mind losing Eldian Devils as a band, considering he tried to murder Eren. Plus, he didn’t care that much about everyone else.

Best of all, he’d get his hands on that sweet evidence, and be able to destroy it.

He believed the idea that Levi would let him continue to run his company. After all, the man had kept Connie’s secrets for years now. He could continue to do so.

Considering Levi had slapped a ring on your finger, there wasn’t any reason for Levi to want to target Connie any longer for keeping you imprisoned. You were his now. Levi won.

After taking all of this into consideration, his hand rubbing his jaw as he sat on the edge of the disgustingly small, queen-sized bed, Connie texted Levi back.

CONNIE: Deal. I’ll head back to LA in a few weeks after this shit cools down.

—

— LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA — 

Levi’s plan was rather odd. 

The man wanted to trick Connie into confessing what he had done live on camera, where others could witness it, and no amount of money could erase such undeniable evidence.

However, there were a few things about his plan that still left you puzzled, but your former manager would simply dodge the questions.

“Why won’t you just release the evidence you’ve been collecting this entire time to the public? Why do you need a live confession from him?” You asked one day, leaning on his kitchen island as he sliced into a loaf of fresh bread. 

“I just do. What I have might not be enough.” He replied plainly. “Can you pass me the butter?”

The next day, as you followed him around his backyard, watching him pull weeds with his gloved hand, you questioned, “I understand us going on live television and telling everyone we were getting married and that the baby was yours would piss Connie off enough to make him reach out, but now that he has, why are we actually getting married? Don’t get me wrong, I know we love each other, but I imagined a more romantic scenario-”

“When all of this is over, I’ll make sure you have a proper wedding with a proper ceremony, I promise.” Levi wiped his sweaty forehead off on his arm.

You smiled at the thought of marrying him, temporarily forgetting that, yet again, he managed to avoid answering anything. 

So, for now, you pacified your curiosity by assuming that, maybe, you just needed to trust him, and together, you signed those marriage contracts with the promise of building something greater someday.

—

Although you had often spent your days hanging out with Levi at his house, your current residence was still with Reiner.

Until today, at least.

Holding a cardboard box with the few items you owned  — only after refusing Reiner’s constant offers to let him buy you anything — you made your way towards his front door, shoes clicking against the ground, filling the silence.

Reiner stood there, faking a smile, but those gorgeous hazel eyes of his couldn’t hide his sadness. Even as a professional actor, he wasn’t so gifted when it came to disguising heartbreak. 

Running his hand over his subtle facial hair, he sighed as you approached him.

“So this is it, huh?”

“Looks like it,” you smiled kindly. “Thank you for everything, Reiner. And not just for letting me stay here, but for always being there for me. Our marriage didn’t last very long, but . . . you were a great husband.”

Reiner glanced down at his boots. The sunlight peeking in through the little windows beside his front door only made his pretty eyes seem brighter, and it emphasized the despair poorly hidden within his gaze.

“He’s a smart man. Marrying you really did get Connie’s attention, I guess. Though I don’t get why it couldn’t have just been a fake announcement,” Reiner loosely folded his arms.

“You’re forgetting that we love each other too,” you said.

Reiner nodded slowly, and after giving a short sigh, he unlocked the front door, and, like the gentleman that he was, took the box from you and carried it to Levi’s car.

You followed him, eyes squinting from the beaming sunlight. 

But, even so, you caught a glimpse of a small FOR SALE sign in Reiner’s front yard.

The southern-hearted man placed your box in the backseat. When he turned to face you, you asked, “Are you selling your house? Why?” With a shrug, Reiner started to speak. “After everything that’s happened, I can’t view this industry the way that I used to. Being an actor isn’t worth all the trouble, so I’m going back home, back to Tennessee. Back to my family. I would have liked to take you with me, but I’ll get over it, ‘s long as you’re happy.”

“I understand.” Although you were happy to know he’d be somewhere safe and would get to be a kind, ordinary man and live in peace, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad knowing that Reiner was leaving for good. “I’ll miss you.” 

You were optimistic that Levi’s plan would finally put Connie behind bars. Then, Reiner and his family would all be able to move back to Tennessee and live safe, happy lives. Their family home, passed down from generation to generation, could never be returned after the silent men burned it down, but at least they would have each other and could start anew. 

“I’ll miss you too.  I’m gonna stop by every now and then to check up on you, okay?” Reiner grinned softly, “But I know you’ll be alright. We both will.”

You wrapped your arms around Reiner’s waist, resting your head against his chest. His muscular arms hugged you back. It was a warm embrace, like always. One you would certainly miss. There was no such comfort quite like Reiner’s hugs.

Although your time together was brief, it was wonderful. He was a loving husband who introduced you to unconditional happiness. Someone who forgave you for your mistakes and did everything he could to protect you. In your time of need, he didn’t hesitate to help you, even if your existence in his life had cost him nothing but pain and grief.

Your love story had ended, but loving him was one of the greatest decisions you ever made.

Levi’s footsteps could be heard as he made his way towards his car. He had to take a private business call while you gathered your belongings, and now, it seemed as if he was ready to leave and take you back to his place for the third, and hopefully, the final time.

“Are you ready?” Levi asked, putting his phone back into his pocket. 

“Yeah,” you replied, pulling away from Reiner. “I just had to hug him goodbye. He’s leaving Los Angeles for good.”

“You are?” Levi raised his brows a bit. “Are you going back to Tennessee?”

“I am,” with a pause, Reiner sighed yet again. “Big decision, but I think it’s the right move.”

“I see. Well, I wish you nothing but luck.” 

Together, you and Levi started to get into his vehicle. 

Before getting into the passenger seat, you gave Reiner one last gaze, not knowing when you’d ever look into his eyes again, and you said, “Bye, Reiner.”

“Goodbye.”

Once you were both buckled in, Levi started to pull out of Reiner’s driveway. The blonde-haired man gave Levi a nod, one that wordlessly communicated: Congratulations, Levi. You’ve won.

—

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky that very next day. How nice it was — feeling sunlight on your skin. The unusual chilly weather had finally started to disappear, and today, you wore a pair of sunglasses as you arrived at the hospital, a cold water bottle in your hand.

Truth be told, you wanted to stay outdoors as long as possible.

Ever since Connie locked you in your own bedroom as his form of punishment, you cherished every moment spent outside. It was thanks to him that you struggled with a Vitamin D deficiency, amongst other things.

“Do you like the beach, Levi?” You asked, glancing at the man beside you as you both stepped into the lobby.

“The ocean can be calming, but I hate sand. It gets everywhere and cleaning it up is a pain in the ass. Why?” 

“I was just wondering,” you said.

It was a lie, one that Levi saw through with little effort. 

“We can go to the beach next week.”

The smile that appeared on your face would make every dull moment of trying to shake off sand worth it.

You and Levi found yourselves at the hospital today to help Eren out after getting discharged. Truth be told, your presence wasn’t needed as Eren had his entire family to aid him, along with a team of bodyguards and additional staff at home to tend to his every need.

Even so, he wanted to see you. 

The rockstar stood in front of the nurse’s station, jotting down what looked like his signature. If it wasn’t for the excited grins on the faces of the three, young medical staff members, you would have naturally assumed that he was signing some form of paperwork, but as he handed the pen back to one of the ladies and they all squealed, it was clear that he was giving them autographs.

At least they had the decency to wait until he was healed before bombarding him with fan requests. You thought about that one nurse who asked you for a picture while you were visiting Eren, never considering that even though you were a celebrity, perhaps, you wanted a bit of privacy to grieve. 

That frustrating memory did make you wonder about something, and as you and Levi approached Eren and exchanged greetings, you tilted your head a bit and asked, “I know this might be bad timing, and I’m not sure if you’ve thought about it, but what are you planning on doing career-wise?”

Eren looked down at his three-fingered right hand. 

“I know there are workarounds to playing the guitar, and there are some cool-ass legends who had some missing fingers too, but I think I’m done with music. Touring . . . awards shows . . . concerts . . . screw it all.”

It was a conversation he already had with Jean earlier in the week. Eren’s departure would end Eldian Devils, as there was no band without him. No one could replace such a reputable band leader. 

Even so, Jean understood. He and Eren hugged it out as well, shockingly.

Neither one of them could remember the last time they embraced each other.

“I’m sorry. Must’ve been a hard decision,” Levi said.

“Nope,” Eren shook his head, smiling softly. “No one ever cared about my music anyway, just my face. And they can go to hell.”

“Wait, but what about your contracts?” Frowning, you added, “Are you going to hire a lawyer or something? You’d never win.”

Eren rested his elbow on the top of the counter. “Aren’t you two working on a plan to get Connie locked up? I’m hoping CS Records goes down with him, and I’ll be free from all of his stupid contracts.”

You looked at Levi with a face of uncertainty.

After all, his plan had a lot of holes — left you with questions he refused to answer. Missing pieces of a puzzle. 

Reiner and his family were moving back to Tennessee, hoping to live safe lives. And, now, Eren was determined to leave the company, both of them resting their futures on the promise that you and Levi were going to take care of Connie for good.

However, Levi didn’t share your worried expression. Instead, he looked at Eren with confidence, and said, “You’re right. Don’t worry about your contracts. Just worry about recovering.”

“So, what will you do now, then?” You asked.

Eren shrugged. “Whatever I want, I guess. What about you two?”

His tone was heavy, coated with jealousy that the poor man tried to hide, but failed miserably at doing so.

When he had heard about your marriage to Levi, all in the name of both love and luring out Connie, he couldn’t help but mourn what he had lost, and what Levi had won.

And when you looked at Levi with a loving, shy smile, Eren felt his heart snap into pieces. 

“I think that I’ll finally do what I’ve always secretly wanted to do, and write my play,” you said. 

Eren softly smiled at you. Then, suddenly, Eren’s eyes darted over to Levi, and his grin faded into a serious, gentle frown.

“Levi? Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah.” 

The two of them stepped off into a nearby, empty waiting room that smelt of stale coffee. The brown walls, cushioned chairs with wooden arms, and the flat screen television hanging on the wall displaying old reruns of Deal or No Deal were all drastically different compared to the sterile, white, and cold interior of the rest of the hospital.

When Eren sat down in one of the chairs, Levi figured that him sitting meant one of two things: he was still recovering and couldn’t continue to stand any longer, or this was going to be a long discussion. 

Either way, Levi sat in the seat positioned diagonally from him and faced his former client. 

“What is it?” Levi asked, furrowing his brows with worry.

After being bombarded with world-shattering news back to back over the last several months, he had grown to always feel anxious whenever anyone wanted to share something with him.

Eren couldn’t tell just how much his ordinary actions were making the other man panic inside. 

“Y/N . . . she doesn’t know your real plan, does she? She just thinks you’re trying to get Connie thrown in prison, nothing more?”

Levi was silent for a moment, lost in thought. He unintentionally scanned Eren’s black jeans, long-sleeved grey shirt, and low, messy manbun.

Eventually, his eyes darted down to the floor, and he sighed softly.

“Yeah.” Levi paused. He hadn’t discussed anything about his plan with Eren, but either way, he was grateful that he kept his mouth shut around you. “Thanks for playing along, but how’d you piece it together?”

“I’m an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” Eren smiled, but it faded away as quickly as it had come.

“Does it bother you? Knowing what I’m planning?” Levi blinked at Eren.

And Eren was much conflicted.

One second, he despised Connie, wanting him to burn in hell for murdering someone as innocent as Armin and for trying to kill him, and getting others to abuse him long before then. 

But, the next second, he thought about the boy he had grown up with, the silly kid who once never dreamt of hurting anyone. 

Connie was always smiling — always laughing. The funny one in the group of four idiots, he was. 

Eren had met the amusing kid in Kindergarten — he later met Jean in first grade and Marco in second grade — and Connie was Eren’s very first friend. 

—

On Eren’s very first day of elementary school, the small five-year-old held on to his mom’s hand as she walked him to the intimidating, terrifying school entrance. The bee and butterfly stickers on the door certainly helped other kids feel welcome, but not Eren. He was stung by a bee the week prior. The school must have known that and was out to get him. Bees were waiting for him in his teacher’s classroom. He was certain of it.

Eventually, his mom halted her footsteps, pulling her son to the side as other kids walked through the door after saying goodbye to their parents.

Kneeling, Carla smiled lovingly at her boy. 

“Okay, this is as far as I can go, Eren. Do you remember your teacher’s name? And her room number?”

“Uh huh,” the brown-haired kid nodded, hands clenching the straps of his red backpack. “Ms. Green, and room two-one-five!”

“Good,” Carla’s grin widened as she reached forward and straightened out her son’s dinosaur shirt. “When the teacher says it’s snack time, there’s goldfish in your backpack.”

“Okay, momma!” Eren could imagine the multi-colored cheddar goldfish already. 

“Here’s your lunch,” Carla said, giving him a small box with a cartoony T-rex on the front of it. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart.”

“I’m not scared!” He lied.

Carla laughed a bit, and then, she hugged her boy goodbye and sent him on his way. 

He remembered where his classroom was from meet-the-teacher night, and once he arrived, the kind, curly-haired educator helped him find a seat. 

Luckily, there were no bees around, and school seemed easy-peasy. 

About ten minutes later, other students started to fill the colorful, animal-themed classroom as well. 

Those other students were chatting and playing with one another as they waited for school to start, showing each other their backpacks and whatnot and making new friends immediately. 

Should he approach them? Show them his backpack, or his cool lunchbox? What if they thought it was silly? 

All the other kindergarteners seemed to naturally gravitate towards each other. Already, he was feeling left out and lonely. 

It was worse than thinking his classroom was going to be filled with bees.

Suddenly, a small finger poked his shoulder three times. 

“Can I sit here?”

Eren turned his head to see a teary-eyed, slightly smaller boy who wore a shirt with three triceratops on it. 

“Sure! You like dinosaurs!” Eren beamed. 

The other kid wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, sniffling softly as he sat down next to Eren.

“What’s wrong? Are you scared?” Eren tilted his head a little bit, and the other kid nodded.

“I miss my mom,” he mumbled.

Connie’s dismissal with his own mom wasn’t nearly as graceful as Eren’s was. He was kicking and screaming, but the five-year-old was, unfortunately, forced out of his car. He had calmed down a bit, but that’s when the crying started. 

Seeing everyone else quickly make friends only made the tears fall even faster, so he decided to approach the other kid in class who was also wearing a dinosaur shirt.

“I miss my momma too, but don’t be scared. We’re friends now, ‘cause we both like dinosaurs.”

Eren grabbed the building blocks in the center of the table, feeling happy that he now had someone to play with, and because he hoped that it would help the other boy feel better.

“Wanna play with me?”

The other kid nodded. As Connie reached for two building blocks, one red, and one green, the kind teacher walked by, caringly rubbed Connie’s back, and handed him a tissue for his runny nose. 

In actuality, everyone had assigned seats, but she wouldn’t dare separate two students who were able to comfort each other, especially when they weren’t causing any sort of trouble yet.

As the two boys played together, Connie coming out of his shell rather quickly, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Eren. What’s your name?”

“I’m Connie.” 

“Do you wanna keep being friends?” Eren asked, worried that the boy might leave his table after cheering up. 

“Uh huh,” with a smile, Connie said, “we’re gonna be friends forever, promise?”

“Yeah, I promise!”

And, after sealing their promise by twisting their pinkies around each other, the two boys continued to enjoy each other’s company until class officially started.

—

“Eren?” Levi leaned forward a bit. 

He had asked the other man if he was bothered by his secret plan, but Eren failed to answer.

“Huh?” Eren mumbled, snapping out of his daydream. “My bad. Uh . . . it doesn’t matter how I feel. It’s the only way to keep everyone safe, so what I think doesn’t matter.”

“But I still want to know how you feel.”

“Why won’t you tell Y/N what you plan on doing?” Eren dodged the question. “Are you worried about how she’ll feel? I’m sure she’d support it. He killed someone she loved.”

“That’s why I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to be any more involved than she already is. If she finds out the truth, she might want to help, and I can’t let her come with me.” Levi looked away from Eren. He noticed how he avoided his earlier question but decided not to press further. “But, anyway, just don’t tell anyone. Let Y/N think that all of this is just about getting Connie to confess, and exposing him to the public so prosecutors will have no choice but to toss his ass in prison.”

“Okay.” 

Levi started to get out of his seat, but then, Eren spoke up again. “I know you’re already married, but give her a proper wedding later on, okay?”

Eren’s emerald eyes were glistening with such intense pain and sadness, that Levi could no longer make eye contact with him.

“I’m planning it already,” Levi paused. “It’s kinda stupid since we’re already legally married, but I’m going to do it anyway. I just don’t want our marriage to be nothing more than a way to lure Connie out.”

Levi went on to describe the details he had imagined, prompted by your request for a romantic scenario. 

Eren nodded sadly, heartbroken.

“Are you upset with me?”

“No, just jealous as hell, that’s all.” Eren pushed himself out of his seat. “Anyway, let’s leave. I’m sick of this hospital. Smells like peas and shit in here, you know what I mean?”

“Peas, shit, and Clorox wipes.”

“Oh,” Eren said. “Thanks for mentioning Clorox wipes. I know what wedding or birthday gift to get you now.”

Levi scoffed lightly with a grin, getting out of his seat. 

“Don’t you dare. I’ve gotten enough cleaning supplies from you.”

It was Eren’s go-to gift for every event dedicated to celebrating Levi. 

“Fine,” Eren frowned. 

If he couldn’t get cleaning supplies, then he’d get appliances. It was his second go-to gift. 

He’d search for a brand new, expensive, eight-burner stove later on. Possibly after mourning losing the love of his life to another man.

—

As the sun fell, darkening the sky that very next day, Eren’s mansion was filled with music, warm food, and celebration.

This particular party was quite different from the ones Eren had thrown in the past. Technically, this party was thrown for him by his family, and the gathering was more family-friendly than the sin-filled nights that often took place whenever lots of people were in Eren’s home.

Carrying a tray of food, you walked into Eren’s kitchen where he was leaning against his kitchen island, chatting with a popular movie star, a singer, and a few relatives.

A short distance away, you spotted Jean talking to an unfamiliar woman.

Darting your eyes back in Eren’s direction, a beautiful smile appeared on his face upon seeing you.

He excused himself, sat his cup down on the counter, and approached you.

 Taking the tray out of your hands and sitting it down on a nearby counter, he said, “Hey, you made it. Thanks for showing up.”

“Of course,” you grinned. “And guess what? I cooked this all by myself.”

“Really?” Eren raised his eyebrows in complete surprise. “You’re learning how to cook?”

“Yep. Levi’s teaching me. I made steak . . . fajita . . . quesadillas . . . or something. I don’t know, but it’s good, trust me.”

Eren couldn’t help but lean down and kiss your cheek in the most friendly way possible. Sorry, but you were just too cute.

He would, perhaps, spend a lifetime trying to get over you.

“Who’s that girl Jean’s talking to? She’s pretty,” Eren turned around searching in the general direction you pointed out discreetly by nodding your head.

“Oh,” Eren said once he spotted the grinning pair of chatty partygoers. “That’s Ava. She’s a pianist.”

“Hm. She’s making Jean blush. He seems happy. I’m glad he’s moving on.” Eren faced you again as you spoke. “Anyway, I’m so proud of you, ‘Ren. Your recovery has been amazing.”

“Thank you,” Eren paused. “So has yours. Not just from your illness, but you’ve been happier lately. I can tell.” 

You smiled once again, god — it was devastatingly beautiful. 

“I’m glad you’re happy, Y/N,” Eren reached out, grabbing ahold of your hand, and gently tracing his thumb across your skin. “I mean it. And I’ll be as happy as you are one day.”

Looking into Eren’s gorgeous eyes, you softly said, “I know you will be. And I can’t wait to see it someday.”

This time, you were the one to peck his cheek. Then, you both let go of each other’s hands, and you walked away from him.

—

Sunshine, ocean water, and warm sand filled your early afternoon a week later.

The gentle, crashing waves were a sight to see. On your hands and knees, you collected tiny sea shells along the shoreline for both you and Levi to keep. 

As you did so, you couldn’t help but think about your childhood days, on your hands and knees, digging through dirt and grass for cool rocks and interesting bugs with Armin. 

Dragging your thumb across a gorgeous white shell, attempting to remove some of the wet sand, you mumbled, “You would’ve loved this, Armin.”

“Hm?”

Levi stared down at you through his dark sunglasses. He was standing in the water, letting the waves crash around his ankles.

“Talking to myself,” you replied, smiling sadly. 

Then, you shook off the grieving thoughts, letting a real, happy smile grace your face this time as you searched around for more shells. 

Suddenly, you heard Levi’s phone click as he snapped a picture of you. 

It had become his latest hobby — photographing you at every opportunity, and not bothering to tell you beforehand.

If anyone scrolled through his photo album, they would see pictures of gorgeous sunrises and animals he spotted in his backyard garden, but mainly, they would see captured art of you learning how to cook — smiling in your little apron as you successfully made your first California sushi roll, or you in the middle of a fancy dinner, mid wine sip. 

There was also a picture of you reading a book on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. 

Or you hunched over Levi’s desk, working on your play. Watering plants. Putting on lipgloss. Laughing at a silly movie. Yawning. 

Whenever he had the chance, he took your picture, capturing every little, happy moment and potential memory.

“You’re the definition of a spoiled rich dude,” you said with a teasing tone. “No way would I hold my phone over a body of water unless I knew I could easily buy another.”

“You can,” Levi took another photo of you as he spoke. “We’re married, remember? What’s mine is yours. That includes money.” 

You couldn’t help but smile — and Levi snapped yet another photo at the sight of it, of course. 

“Hey, how about you take a photo with me, for a change?” You asked, eyes squinting from the sun.

Levi lowered his phone. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Okay.”

You gave a celebratory grin as he walked over, kneeling in the sand beside you. Levi gave the softest grin, and while your own smile was brighter, you were both equally just as happy. 

It had been a long time since you had known joy quite like this, and Levi was certain that he had never known such happiness before. 

—

After leaving the beach, you and Levi returned home to shower and change clothes before heading out for your dinner reservations.

It was a lovely restaurant, one that was classy enough for you to not have to worry about prying eyes, as you were surrounded by fellow celebrities and wealthy citizens who paid you both no mind.

After dining on gourmet meals and sipping on fruity wine, you and Levi returned home.

As your back hit the bed, a giggle escaped from between your lips, which spread into a cheeky grin.

“Leviii,” you whined, reaching up and grabbing at nothing in particular, “Take your damn clothes off.”

Levi shrugged off his dark blue blazer. “I think you might’ve had too much wine.”

Tipsy or not, the moonlight casting through the big master bedroom window had illuminated Levi’s face enough for you to see his cheeks were a faint shade of pink.

“Think you might’ve had too much wine too,” you giggled yet again. 

Levi mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out, and then, he kissed you deeply. Sloppily, despite his clean nature. 

While his kisses to your lips and skin might have been rough, he removed your clothing gently, as if unwrapping a fragile present.

He ran two of his fingers from your lips, across your heart, in between your chest, down your stomach, and finally, made contact with your aching clit, rubbing gentle circles around your button.

He loved the look on your pretty face — eyelids fluttering, mouth slightly agape as sweet moans slipped out from between your wine-stained lips, which were the tiniest bit swollen from kissing.

When Levi suddenly swirled his tongue around your nipple, before sucking on it, your moans grew louder — he was in love with the sound of it. 

Your hands made their way to his hair, fingers tangled in his soft black strands. 

“Levi,” you whined. The call of his name was followed by incomprehensible blabber, which was only interrupted by sudden, loud moans as he plunged two fingers into your awaiting hole.

Soon, you would learn that his quick fingering was just the preview, as after Levi made you soak his fingers with your cum, he would then thrust into you with his hard cock. 

His rhythm — the way he hooked his hands under your knees and pinned your legs, fucking you in such a method that resulted in you alternating between gripping the thick, soft, pale cerulean sheets, and digging your nails into his back, decorating his skin with bright red scratches.

“I don’t think we were made to just love each other,” Levi’s forehead was pressed against yours as he spoke lowly. “I’m starting to think we were made to fuck each other too. You’re taking me so well.”

You shut your eyes, turning your head to the side as skin smacked against skin, legs trembling as yet another orgasm was approaching. 

“You’re not getting shy on me, are you? Look at me.” Levi moved his hand away from your leg and gripped your jaw, making you face him. “Look at me while you cum. You understand?”

“Mhm,” you hummed obediently, tears falling from your eyes from complete and utter pleasure, and it wasn’t long before you were gushing all over Levi’s cock. 

Feeling your hole clench around him is what drove him to his own orgasm, and he came inside of you, your pussy milking his cock for all it was worth.

As he finished cumming, he kissed you yet again. 

“I love you,” he whispered breathlessly against your lips, pulling away from the kiss to look into the eyes of the one person he’d do anything to protect.

“I love you too.”

—

A few days later, after having breakfast with you — your overcooked eggs got stuck to the pan, and Levi had to take over and make omelets, which was fine — you excitedly prepped the guest room for two special visitors while Levi left to go pick them up.

The irritated man waited patiently for the plane to land in the big, open area deprived of any people aside from him, his four bodyguards, and a few people who worked for the private jet company.

Soon enough, two people stepped through the jet door, one at a time.

“Levi! I missed you!” Hange shouted, dramatically pressing their hand against their head. “We were on that jet for hours!”

They practically jumped off of the steps, stretching a bit before running up to Levi and hugging him tightly. “I’ve been so worried about you, oh my goodness.”

“You’re squeezing me.”

“I know,” Hange said, not bothering to release the grip they had on him. “It’s called a hug. Don’t be a jerk.”

Eventually, the lingering, blonde-haired man made his way out of the jet, taking his time in thanking the staff members for the transportation and for carrying his and Hange’s luggage. 

Erwin approached Levi and Hange with a soft grin. 

“It’s good to see you, Levi,” he said. 

Eventually, Hange released him, and Erwin was able to hug him as well, normally. 

“You’re both late. What took so long?”

“I dunno. Slow jet, maybe?” Hange shrugged.

“It’s my jet, Hange. It isn’t slow.” Levi briefly glanced at the staff members who loaded their luggage into his truck. “But anyway, it’s good to see you. Thanks for coming. I know it isn’t safe, but I needed some help, and I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Hey,” Erwin reached out, touching Levi’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t have come if we cared about danger.”

Levi told his two best friends his plan beforehand, but even so, he needed to make sure that they understood just how important their role was. 

“You understand what needs to happen, right?” Levi darted his eyes between their faces. 

“You’ll trick Connie into confessing while Erwin and I stream it live for the world to see,” Hange said. 

“It’ll be evidence no one can fully erase,” Erwin added.

“Then we cut the cameras off, and . . .” Hange didn’t dare to say the next part aloud, but they continued to speak lightheartedly. “And hope to god you’re rich enough to avoid prison and keep us from going down with you, that’s all!”

“That’s right,” Levi mumbled. 

He understood Hange’s enthusiasm. After all, Connie tried to murder Erwin. Even so, there was nothing easy or fun about what the three of them had planned, no matter how cruel Connie was.

As they headed back to Levi’s home, they discussed the finer details of what would take place tomorrow night, during which Connie Springer would walk into his own assassination. 

—

— YEARS AGO, CALIFORNIA STATE PRISON —

“After you hurt someone, how do you feel, Connie?”

The older, brown-haired woman crossed her legs, her knee-length skirt shifting a bit. “Do you feel a sense of gratification, or do you feel dread? Or regret, maybe?”

The chains around Connie Springer’s wrists rattled as he played with the clicky fidget cube in his scarred hands, hands that were covered in cuts and bruises from his latest fight with a fellow inmate in the cafeteria. 

A fight that was so brutal, it resulted in him being tased. 

Of course, the correctional officers could have simply pulled him off of the other guy. He was pounding an adult man’s face in, but even so, he was still a kid. He could have easily been lifted and carried away. 

But it was no secret that the immoral officers had it out for Connie. Around here, locked away from the rest of society, no one cared about what happened inside the isolating prison walls. 

The guards would ruin his entire life simply because their wives forgot to pack them a soda with their lunch, and they wanted to release their anger and frustration on someone easy to bother.

The kid trapped in an adult prison, for example.

And most of his inmates were no better. 

The monsters he was trapped in hell with had turned him from a harmless, kind, and silly teenager — who, once upon a time, had never known pain aside from falling on a concrete sidewalk and scraping his knee, because he forgot to tie his shoes before running to Eren Yeager’s house — to a violent person who had to be taught how to fight just to survive behind bars.

But it wasn’t enough.

He was still just a kid. 

A kid who never wanted to hurt anyone.

A kid who was easily targeted by everyone, and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Connie, did you hear my question?” The older woman spoke up yet again. “How do you feel after you hurt someone?”

The seventeen-year-old’s hazel eyes never once looked up at his therapist. Instead, he glared at the cold, gray floor.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

He had given that response to the last three questions she had asked during her attempts to pick his brain. 

“Try and think of an answer for me.”

“I said I don’t know.”

Despite his stern tone, despite the way he raised his voice, his therapist didn’t flinch. Nor did she completely back down.

“Tell me; when you hurt someone, do you think it’s justified because the world has made you suffer with an unjustified prison sentence, so you have the right to hurt others now? Even if those people haven’t done anything to you?” 

“That one motherfucker spilled his drink on me. He deserved what he got.”

“It was an accident, Connie.” The older woman leaned forward a bit. “Fighting can result in a longer prison sentence. Do you know what disciplinary action is?”

“Yeah. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not,” she paused. “But now, you’ve temporarily lost a few privileges. Your friends and family can’t visit you for the next few months. How does it feel knowing you can’t see your friends and family for a little while?”

Connie shrugged. 

“Connie, honey, listen to me.” The therapist dropped her voice to a whisper. “I need you to cooperate and try your hardest to work with me. I’m only trying to help you. I won’t make any promises, but your willingness to help yourself can result in a shorter sentence. Did you know that?”

Aside from the gentle rattles from Connie’s chains as he shifted around a bit, the empty, gray room was otherwise silent for a moment.

But the lady was right. If the corrupted system was somehow kind enough to lessen his sentence, or at least, consider moving him out of the adult prison and to a juvenile detention center — where he should have been, considering his crime was committed accidentally and he was still a child — then they would talk to her first. And she would report what she evaluated.

Connie released a shaky sigh.

“You were such a sweet boy when you first arrived here. I remember meeting you in group therapy sessions, and you were trying to make the best of your situation. You couldn’t stop talking about your friends and how much you loved music. Do you remember that?” 

“Yes.”

“That was only one year ago. What happened in such a short amount of time? beyond being incarcerated, of course.”

The prison was rather cold. Even the therapist had to bring a sweater despite the hot summer sun shining down on Los Angeles, and perhaps, that was why Connie started to tremble.

No. That wasn’t it. 

His eyes started to water a bit, warm tears that brimmed in his waterline threatening to fall down his face, which was pale from lack of sunlight. The teenager clenched and unclenched his jaw. Lowly, he sniffled.

“They hurt me here.”

“They hurt you here?” The therapist repeated. Despite working in mental health for twenty years, she was unable to hide her sadness and concern. “Who hurts you, Connie? Staff members or the other inmates?”

Once again, Connie was silent. The therapist asked yet another question.

“When you say hurt, what exactly do you mean? How are they hurting you?” 

He didn’t want to cry. Clenching his trembling jaw to hold back tears had failed, as one streamed down his cheek anyway. 

If only he hadn’t said anything. Just what was he thinking? 

If his therapist discovered the truth — the unspeakable pain that he had gone through in just a year — then she would have to report it, and he would be labeled as a snitch. 

“I’m just messing around. I didn’t mean to say that. My bad.”

“Connie-”

“Can I go now? Please?”

The therapist looked at her watch, noting that he still had fifteen minutes left in his session. Even if she failed to get some sort of confession out of him, she, at the very least, had to do something in her power to brighten his ruined life. 

Could she convince someone to move him to a different prison? Or, perhaps, fight to have his old privileges restored, such as visitation? 

He adored his mom. Even his therapist knew that much. 

Maybe he would tell the truth to a trusted adult or one of his friends, be it his parents, siblings, Eren, Jean, or even Mrs. Yeager. 

Someone. Anyone.

That realization made his therapist ponder. She leaned back in her seat, thinking.

“I bet Eren would storm the entire prison if he found out someone was bothering you here, hm? I know your mom would be very upset, and she would do everything she could to help you. Do you think you’d talk to one of them?”

“I don’t wanna talk about this. No one’s done anything to me, okay? I was just joking.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of-”

“Nothing to be afraid of?” Connie’s sudden, sharp glare sent a chill down the older woman’s spine. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“Well, am I wrong? Is there something to be afraid of? Is someone making you feel . . .”

Connie dropped his head, tuning out the rest of her words. For the remainder of their session, he was unresponsive, refusing to say another word, fighting back the urge to cry as his thumb flicked at his fidget cube. 

If only he could have been honest.

 If only he wasn’t terrified of what would happen if he told the truth. 

If only someone could save him. 

If only he didn’t feel so alone.

As tough as he pretended to be, punching adults in the face, hoping, and yet, failing, to scare away anyone who dared to hurt him, he was nothing more than a terrified teenager who wanted to go home. Who desperately wanted his mom to soothe him, or his dad to protect him. 

But the boy would have to be content with only daydreaming about being saved as he drifted off to sleep with one eye open, because for the next few years, he would know nothing except for this miserable hell.

— PRESENT DAY —

Levi’s private jet wasn’t the only plane landing in Los Angeles today. 

Throughout Connie’s flight back to Los Angeles aboard his private jet, he spent the majority of the ride shaking his leg from pure nervousness.

Could he truly trust Levi Ackerman?

Evidence for peace.

Peace for evidence. 

That was the deal.

Maybe. Maybe not.

But he wanted that evidence badly enough to risk it. 

Glancing out of the tiny plane window, the beautiful city of L.A. came into view, mesmerizing high-rise buildings below a bright blue sky welcomed him home.

Tomorrow night, he and Levi would meet somewhere privately, and soon, everything would go back to the way it was.

Peaceful.

—

It was dark. 

The night sky had shown few stars, and the nearby orange streetlights, softly buzzing, were the only source that provided sight to Levi as he walked to the agreed meeting spot.

It was a shady area behind an empty building, one free from street surveillance cameras, as Levi promised Connie.

However, it was not free from the little tablet camera peaking out from behind nearby bushes, Hange’s finger hovering over the button to start a livestream as soon as Connie arrived.

It wouldn’t take long. 

Slow footsteps could be heard before Connie came into view, appearing from the side of a building in clothes as black as the night sky. His hands were in the pockets of his nice pants. Even when his life was falling apart, he still bothered to dress impressively.

Hange started the livestream.

Erwin started another livestream from a different social media platform, just in case something happened to the other one. And, as a last resort, they had a camera positioned elsewhere, which wasn’t broadcasting anything, but was for safekeeping, rather.

Thousands of confused fans of Eldian Devils and Levi Ackerman flooded either one of the two live streams. 

After all, he never streamed anything.

The last time a notification such as this one appeared on their phones from Levi’s accounts, was when a drunk Eren Yeager had opened his manager’s phone and started a broadcast without his permission. 

That was years ago.

“Do you have it?” Connie asked, staring into Levi’s suspicious, glistening eyes.

“Yeah. I do. You know what’s on it?” Levi reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black flash drive. “It contains your illegal money transactions. The shitty contracts you make your artists sign. Doesn’t have anything on it about what you’ve done recently, though, like shooting three people and killing one of them.”

Take the bait . . . take the bait . . . Erwin thought.

Hange and Erwin made sure their cameras successfully captured Connie’s face so no one could deny that it was him.

What an idiot he was. 

“You sound pissed off about it,” Connie yawned a bit.

“Of course I’m pissed off. You murdered Armin and tried to murder Eren. Why is that so hard for you to comprehend?”

“I didn’t know you cared so much, man. Sorry if I’m used to you not giving a damn about anyone but yourself.”

Hange shared a knowing look with Erwin. One that communicated their thoughts and worries without them having to say a word: Was that good enough? He hasn’t directly confessed, but he hasn’t denied anything either. Would this be enough?

Erwin gave them a nod, one that told them to keep recording.

Keep recording until it was time to stop.

“Armin was a good person. I’ll never understand why you had to kill him.” 

“Because I had to, okay? Can I have the flash drive now? Because all of this extra chatting could’ve happened over the phone.”

“Fine.” 

It was a good enough confession. 

Levi reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive. 

Hange and Erwin were told to end the livestream once Levi reached up and scratched his left ear — not wanting to get what would happen next on camera — but he hadn’t made the move to do so yet, so they continued to record.

And why he hadn’t yet signaled them, they weren’t certain. 

Perhaps, it was because he was hesitant. 

Levi looked into the eyes of the man who, right now, trusted him entirely. The man he had trusted for years. He could see it now — the look of trust in his hazel eyes. And, perhaps, there was a look of regret as well.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as comfortable with being an evil murderer as he pretended to be. Maybe he could still be saved.

Once Connie took the flash drive from Levi’s hand, Hange’s thumb hovered over the button to end the livestream, awaiting the other man’s signal.

With one hand, Connie shoved the flash drive into his pants pocket. With the other, he swiftly grabbed the handgun out of his inner coat pocket, pointed it at Levi’s chest, and pulled the trigger.

—

— YEARS AGO —

After a long day filled with drills, exercises, and aggravating tasks all under the name of serving the country, Levi, Erwin, and Hange sat around a wooden table, playing a card game to blow off some steam.

“Shit . . .” Levi took a swig of his tea, glaring down at the deck of red and white cards in his hand. “You’re cheating, Hange.”

“Huh?!” With a frown, Hange placed down another card, coming closer and closer to winning the card game Levi couldn’t remember the name of. He didn’t care that much. 

“Ignore him,” Erwin laughed softly. “He’s finally bad at something, and he can’t stand it.”

“Is that why he’s drinking tea like it’s liquor?” Hange turned their attention from Erwin to Levi, speaking with a teasing tone. “It’s not gonna turn into whiskey, Levi.” 

Levi grabbed another card, glaring playfully.

Being that he was only twenty, he had no choice but to settle for tea. But that lovely idiot across the table surely made him wish he was downing a bottle of something — anything.

“Hey, Erwin? Where’d you go after training yesterday?” Hange darted their eyes up at Erwin, then back down at their cards.

“I had a date, remember?”

“Oh, right! With, uh, what’s her name . . . Maddie? Mia? Macadamia?”

“Maria,” Erwin corrected, smirking just a bit. He was starting to win the card game, relying on strategy instead of luck. 

“Nice, nice,” Hange nodded. “And what about you, Levi? Take any lucky girl out last weekend?”

“I’ll hit you.”

“What? I’m just asking a question,” Hange playfully wiggled their eyebrows.

“Erwin, please tell Hange to leave me alone in a nicer way than I’d put it.”

“I don’t know about that, Levi,” Erwin glanced up at the man. “I must admit that I’m curious about your love life myself.”

“See?” Hange gestured at Erwin with their hand, then looked at Levi. “Do you find anyone attractive? Are you in some wild, secret relationship we don’t know about?”

“No,” Levi placed his cards down. Erwin won the game, but everyone was too focused on hearing Levi’s revealing words to celebrate or sulk. “I don’t have a love life. I don’t care about any of that.”

“Why not?” Erwin questioned, furrowing his brows. 

“I think romance is a waste of time. Loving someone is stupid, because no matter what, it’ll always end in pain. Heartbreak, divorce, death . . . It’s unavoidable, so why waste your time when you’ll always get hurt in the end? That’s what I think, at least.” Levi took another sip of his tea. “If I die alone, I’m fine with that.” 

—

Hange’s livestream ended abruptly because they had unintentionally thrown their tablet, cracking the device and breaking it. 

Hange and Erwin ran to the fallen, bleeding man. It felt as if their bodies were moving in slow motion, and yet, everything had happened regrettably fast. 

Connie disappeared into the darkness surrounding the abandoned building they were stationed behind. Moments later, tires screeched as a car sped away. 

Hange scraped their hands collapsing at Levi’s side, but the little blood on their bruised palms paled in comparison to the pool of blood pouring out of their best friend’s body. 

“Call the police, Erwin! Call an ambulance. Oh my god, Levi, please, no . . .” 

His eyes were open. A streak of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. Hange scooped their hand underneath his head, cradling him.

As Erwin contacted the nearest first responders, Hange pressed their hand against Levi’s injured chest, attempting to stop the bleeding.

As they did so, bloodied hand against his bullet wound, they felt the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. 

“Levi? Can you hear me?” Hange stared down into his eyes, but he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at the few stars twinkling up above. 

“I’m . . . sorry.” Levi’s voice was weak. A tear fell from his eye.

Erwin dropped the phone. He pushed Levi’s hair away from his face, leaning in to hear the man speak.

“Sorry . . .” Levi repeated.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, do you understand me? This screwup isn’t your fault.” Tears brimmed in Erwin’s waterline. When he blinked, it fell onto Levi’s warm cheek.

“You’re not gonna die like this, Levi, we promise,” Hange said. They could barely see him through their tears, which blurred their vision. 

Levi’s blood started to touch their knees.

“Take care of her . . . okay?” Levi whispered. He had to use all of his strength to speak. More blood pooled from his mouth. “Take care of-of Y/N . . . help her learn how to . . . cook. She’s learn . . .  she’s learning. Help her produce her play . . . promise me. Keep her . . . happy. Tell her that I love her . . . okay? Promise . . .”

In the distance, ambulance sirens blared.

Erwin smiled, stroking Levi’s forehead. “You hear that, Levi? It’s an ambulance. You’re going to be just fine. You can tell her all of that yourself.” 

Hange held Levi’s hand. 

He just needed to hold on a little longer . . . just a little longer . . . and he would be just fine.

This time around, no one could hear Connie’s footsteps before he came into view.

This time, they weren’t aware of his presence until he was standing right behind them with his gun drawn, his hand trembling, eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Connie spoke with a shaky voice, one filled with regret — the same regret he felt after he fired a bullet into Eren.

Erwin’s eyes widened. 

He must have returned to kill him and Hange, eliminating any witnesses. After all, he had no idea about the livestream. He had no idea that thousands of people had witnessed tonight’s events unfold, soon to be millions upon millions as the news spread.

Erwin didn’t care about his own life, and he tried to reach across Levi and pull Hange away, but the bullet was fired too soon.

It didn’t hit Hange. 

It didn’t hit Erwin.

It hit Levi in the forehead, killing him instantly. Killing any chance of survival.

If the police cars and ambulance trucks racing down the street nearby didn’t know where to locate them, they certainly would after hearing Hange’s scream. 

But when they showed up, there was nothing they could do. 

They were too late.

Hange cradled Levi’s warm, bleeding body, trembling arms wrapped around him while Erwin did most of the talking, communicating with the police officers as best as he could, masking his pain to better tell the tale of how the corrupt justice system is what led to this situation to begin with.

But nothing — nothing — would ever be as difficult as arriving at Levi's home that night, promising to return to the police station in the morning for more questioning.

As they stepped through the doors, Hange’s sobs quiet as they made their way into the foyer, you were preparing a surprise celebratory dinner in honor of their success, confident that the three best friends would return victorious.  

Hange sat down on the foyer floor. They couldn’t walk anymore. They couldn’t feel their legs. 

“I’ll be right back, give me one second.” The sad man stroked his crying friend’s hair. 

He stepped into the archway of the kitchen. For a while, you hadn’t noticed him.

Darting back and forth between the stove and cabinets you were, and Erwin didn’t disturb you just yet, wanting to let you hold on to your happiness just a bit longer. 

Then, your eyes darted up to his face briefly, just long enough to see that familiar head of blonde hair, but not long enough to notice the pained look within his blue eyes, nor the blood staining his body.

“You’re back!” You said, turning away from him to pull a tray of baked chicken out of the oven. “I know it’s late, but there’s nothing wrong with a midnight dinner, right? I, uh, I cooked everything myself. I burned the chicken a little bit on the bottom, but I just cut that part off. It’s fine. I can’t wait to see the look on Levi’s face! I even made dessert . . . well, I bought dessert . . . but only because I didn’t have time to bake anything. Of course, the one thing I’m good at, I don’t even have time to-”

Your words were abruptly cut off as you looked at Erwin yet again, your eyes lingering long enough this time to notice his distraught appearance.

As you stood there wearing your oven mitts and your apron, holding a tray of oven-roasted vegetables, you worriedly asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you so . . . did someone get hurt?”

Before Erwin could respond — although it took him a moment to get ready to speak, as his voice had faded away due to the lump in his throat — you reached for the stove behind you, turning off a sizzling pan to better your hearing. 

That’s when you heard Hange’s sobs coming from the foyer.

“Erwin?” Your tone was thick with worry. “What happened? Where’s Levi?”

At that moment, when that haunting question fell from between your lips, Erwin wished that he was the dead one right now. 

“Y/N,” he spoke as calmly as he could, nodding in the direction of the nearby breakfast nook. “I need you to sit down for me.” 

You shook your head. Your mitted hands clenched the hot tray. Your legs started to wobble. Your eyes started to glisten with hot tears.

“Where’s Levi, Erwin? Where is he? Where’s Levi?” 

He couldn’t tell you. Not like this. Not with you holding a hot tray in your hands. You could get hurt.

“Y/N . . .”

You started to cry.

“Where’s Levi? Where?” 

Despite your words, you knew the answer. You were a woman who knew the look of unspeakable grief quite well.

Erwin approached your trembling body slowly as you sobbed.

The hot tray fell from your hands. Erwin was quick enough to smack it away so it wouldn’t touch you, burning his hand and arm in the process. It hurt, but none of that mattered. Not right now. 

He caught you before you collapsed to the ground. One hand was wrapped around your body. The other hand cradled your head. 

Crying into his chest, you continued to ask: “Where’s Levi? Where is he?”

—

— THREE DAYS LATER —

The world had come to know the truth — an ugly piece of honesty that no one could deny: Connie Springer was a coldhearted murderer, and Levi Ackerman was dead.

The latest chaos appeared worldwide on notable news channels. Headlined the most popular articles and newspapers. 

But none of it mattered.

Even after shooting Levi twice — once in the chest, then circling back around to kill him completely, not wanting a repeat of Erwin and Eren’s situation — Connie was still a free man.

He very well couldn’t buy his way out of this one. 

The general public had seen his sins with their own eyes. 

But, even if the government was forced to do its part and uphold its own laws, laws that wouldn’t help them purchase a Beverly Hills mansion and secure their children’s future in top-notch Ivy League schools, it didn’t mean a thing, because no one could find him.

The master bedroom door opened, and gentle footsteps made their way towards the side of the bed, where you laid on your side, head resting on a pillow. His pillow.

It was uncomfortably wet from your tears.

“Hey,” Erwin’s voice was soft. “I made breakfast. You should try to eat something.”

You didn’t respond. 

You couldn’t. 

Grief took your voice away — snatched any desire to speak, as your throat was dried to a crisp.

Therefore, you only shook your head, and Erwin sighed a bit. 

He sat down a white bowl of some steamy, nutritional substance on the nightstand nearby.

“It’s here if you change your mind. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

The grieving man walked away.

It wasn’t fair. Truly. It wasn’t. 

He was suffering just as much as you and Hange, who occupied the guest bedroom, having their own tear-soaked pillow to sob into with a bowl of uneaten food on their nightstand as well.

But he couldn’t sit around and grieve. Instead, he had to take on the role of a caregiver, trying his hardest to do what he could for you and Hange. 

Over the last few days, he cooked. Cleaned. Opened the door only to allow visitors who he thought would help lessen your misery, like Sasha, Annie, and Eren.

Although the paparazzi once again lurking around Levi’s property were indeed pests, he took advantage of that. Standing in front of their cameras, speaking into their microphones, he spoke on and on about how horrific Connie Springer was. How none of his artists were safe until he was locked away.

“You care about their music. You care about their concerts. You care about their interviews. Now, it’s time to care about their lives,” Erwin once said, his words broadcasted worldwide for millions to hear. “Help us find Connie Springer, so every artist he has worked with can seek justice, and sleep soundly and safely. Continue to be outraged at him and everyone at CS Records who holds a position of power. 

Eren Yeager almost lost his life thanks to him. I almost lost mine as well, both of us, victims of his violence.

Armin Arlert was a kind, hardworking man who was simply walking down the street with Eren Yeager, drinking a slushie. Now, he’ll never know what it’s like to grow old. To live comfortably.

Levi Ackerman died trying to protect his loved ones. This is the same man who brought your favorite singers to the spotlight. Avenge him by finding his killer, so that he and Armin Arlert may rest in peace. Thank you.” 

—

Around noon, Erwin, once again, made his way into the bedroom. You hadn’t moved a muscle.

Silently, he grabbed the uneaten bowl of breakfast food, which had gotten cold and dry over the dreadful hours.

He replaced it with a plate. On it, there was a sandwich, cut in half, and a few pieces of fruit.

Taking the old bowl away, he returned moments later with a glass of water, and a hardcover, brown, book of some sort. 

He sat the water down on the nightstand. Even the gentle clink-clank of the glass was too much to bear.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “I found this. I think you might want to take a look at it.”

Your eyes shifted in his direction. Much like you did when he offered you food earlier, you simply shook your head.

“It’s from Levi. I found it in his office. I think it’s . . .” Erwin paused. “Look at it, when you get the chance.” 

He reached over you, placing the book on the other side of your bed.

After that, he left.

An hour and twenty minutes had passed before you built up the courage to sit up in bed and grab the book. With trembling hands, you opened it, only to discover that it wasn’t a book at all.

It was a photo album.

Every picture that he had taken of you, both mundane and extraordinary, was printed out and filed neatly on every page you had flipped. He added the dates as well, written along the white spaces underneath every photograph, as well as a little description of what was happening or where you were.

Planting new flowers

Sasha’s birthday party 

Making tacos

The beach

After the photo of you and him on that beautiful day, there was one more.

It was the picture he took of you on the date afterward. There you were, smiling, holding a fork that was getting ready to dive into your first course, a fresh, creatively-plated salad, all while wearing your favorite dress. 

Your tears splattered onto the pages. It blurred your vision, but after blinking a few times to clear it, you were able to read the final description.

Our last date

Gripping the edges of the photo album, you brought it closer. Perhaps, you read that incorrectly. Maybe it was a result of dehydration and depression.

But no. The words remained the same.

How could he have known that your last date would indeed be your last date?

You flipped the page, not expecting any more photos to appear. And there weren’t. The remaining pages were empty photo slots waiting to be filled.

There was, however, an envelope tucked in between one of the pages. 

Your name was written on the front of it in Levi’s perfect handwriting.

Shaky fingers ripped open the envelope rather quickly. With one hand, you wiped your tears, and with the other, you unfolded what appeared to be a letter.

Y/N,

If you’re reading this, then I’m sorry.

I’m sorry because I’m going to die soon, and I have to put you through even more grief. I hope you can forgive me for it.

I wasn’t being honest with you, or with anyone.

Some think I plan to kill Connie. They’re wrong. You think I plan to put Connie in prison, which I am, but not in the way we discussed. I need more than a live confession. I need people to see him killing someone they ignorantly think is more important, someone who matters more to Hollywood than a waiter. Getting him to admit to Armin’s death won’t be enough. The flash drive alone won’t be enough.

The only way to cause enough outrage is if I die too, and everyone sees it. No amount of money can erase what I’m hoping millions of people will see. Outrage would mean no amount of money can persuade the justice system. 

That’s what I’m hoping for, at least.

Thinking that Connie will kill me is a gamble, but I’m certain he will because I know him. I really know him. I know he’s wanted to kill me for a long time, and once he gets what he thinks is a flash drive with evidence, he can finally do it. Killing me means killing his biggest threat.

And, there’s also the fact that you manipulated him with my kid. 

I knew mentioning that on TV could be what will finally push him into killing me.

The flash drive I plan to give him is fake. There’s nothing on it. The real one is in my office. I don’t want to risk giving that up, dead or alive. It could come in handy. Who knows.

I had to take a page out of Connie’s book and make a few jerks rich, but I poured money into ensuring that Connie goes to a specific prison where he will never be able to escape, assuming he gets arrested and doesn’t get away after killing me. I hope not, or else this will all be pointless.

But that isn’t the only reason I have to do all of this.

I married you because I love you, that’s true, but I also did it so that you’ll get my life insurance once I die.

Connie took everything from you, but everything I own, everything that belongs to me, I give to you. He can’t touch it.

You won’t have to depend on anyone anymore. You’ll be able to live comfortably now, which is all I want for you. You won’t be alone, either. Erwin and Hange will look after you, I know it. Eren’s still around, and knowing him, he isn’t going anywhere.

But, Y/N, I want you to grow old. I want you to become the playwright you always wanted to be. I want you to be happy, even if I’m not around to see it.

The rest of this photo album is blank. Fill it with whatever you want. Pictures from the past. Pictures you’ll take in the future. 

And once you’re happy and free from all this pain and trouble, share it with someone. 

You were my one true love, and I will never regret dying for you, Y/N.

Sincerely, your husband, Levi

—

— CANADA, TWO WEEKS LATER —

The disgustingly small hideout was once again Connie’s residence as he hid out from the rest of the world. Now, oddly enough, it felt smaller. More suffocating. 

Connie slowly paced back and forth around the tiny living room.

How long could he truly stay here? Was this truly a situation he couldn’t toss money at? With the entire world watching, he had no choice but to accept his fate. He had gone too far by giving in to his bloodlust, all in the name of evidence and revenge.

The computer sitting on his desk against one of the plain living room walls suddenly dinged. It was an indication that he had received a new email.

He would have ignored it. It was probably some sort of advertisement or business that could wait until morning. 

Despite thinking this, Connie found himself walking to his desk, sitting down in the chair, and moving his mouse around to fully awaken his computer — it was as if his mind and body were no longer in sync.

When the bright screen displayed his inbox, an unsettling chill ran up his spine when he read the name of the sender from an email delivered thirty seconds ago. With a trembling hand, he clicked it.

Levi Ackerman (no subject)

Connie,

If you’re getting this email, that means you have successfully murdered me. Good job.

But, if you’re able to read this, that means you aren’t behind bars somewhere, and my plan has failed.

I’m worried that it will fail. I’m worried that even after I set you up and I die by your hand, the people I care for will still be in danger because the shitty cops can’t find you, or maybe, the public doesn’t care about both me and Armin dying as much as I hope they do, and their lack of outrage means that you can pay off law enforcement once again and get away with it all. I don’t know. 

But that’s why I’m writing this email and scheduling for it to be sent after a certain date, because I know that if you see it, you’re still a free man, and you can hurt everyone I care for. 

So, I want to talk to you one last time.

People often wonder why someone like me became a manager. I don’t give a damn about fame or music. I told myself that it was because I wanted to look after Eren. His family took care of my cousin, so I wanted to help him accomplish his dreams and protect him. I did a shit job doing that, clearly.

But I also became a manager because of you, too.

I know a thing or two about shitty childhoods, Connie. When I met you after your time in prison, you had that same look that all troubled kids have, and believe it or not, I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to be successful, and to rub it in the face of everyone who hurt you and doubted you.

So, when I witnessed you become a monster with my own eyes, I did nothing. Hurt people hurt other people. I knew that. 

But I made the wrong decision back then.

If I had done something back then, if I had been there for you in a different way like I should have been, maybe things would have turned out differently now. Maybe you could have gone down a better path.

I can’t say. 

But I’m sorry, Connie. I really am. I let you down. I let everyone down. Leading musicians into what I knew would be a horrific situation contract-wise is something I will never forgive myself for, a burden I can’t shake, so my death won’t just serve as part of a setup to imprison you, but it’ll be my freedom.

But, Connie, it’s not too late to start over. It’s not too late to become a better person, the person you should and would have been if someone had been there for you all those years ago.

That’s why I’m reaching out.

Please leave Y/N alone. Leave everyone else alone. I’m begging you. Let my death be enough.

Anyway, if I survive, then I’ll come back and delete this email before it sends. I doubt I will, though. But, if I do live, then that means you are really willing to accept my deal for peace (then I’m the asshole for trying to set you up, but whatever.)

If that’s the case, if you are willing to have peace, then maybe, I could help you find your own form of happiness too. In the future, we could have tea and talk about all of it once everything dies down. 

But if that doesn’t happen, and you kill me, then I forgive you. 

Sincerely, Levi

—

When tears brimmed in Connie’s waterline, he was uncertain what emotion had provoked such a reaction from him. Sadness? Anger? Regret? 

Either way, his trembling hand moved the mouse, dragging the cursor to a little garbage can icon, and he deleted the email.

—

It wasn’t déjà vu. 

Yes, seeing yet another casket lowered into the ground at the hands of Connie Springer was familiar. The horrific pain was recurring. But this time, at this depressing, heartbreaking funeral, you didn’t cry uncontrollably. Your legs didn’t give out. 

You stood there in yet another black dress, but you were emotionless. Speechless. Eyes dry. 

Your misery was an old friend. Travesty was like a neverending dream. 

But it wasn’t your familiarity with pain that resulted in your unsettling composure. 

It was because you were too angry to properly mourn. 

After all, Connie was still gone, which meant Levi Ackerman had died for nothing, and you refused to let that happen.

No longer would you sit around, having to be consoled and cared for by others. No longer would you sit on the receiving end of every action at the hands of that monster you so desperately wanted to find.

It was time to make Connie suffer too.

And you’d become as twisted as he was to do it.

—

— THREE YEARS LATER —

“I’m nervous, Mom, oh my goodness. What if they changed their minds or something? What if I mess up?” 

Jane Caddell wiped her sweaty hands off on her pants leg as her mom pulled into an empty spot in the spacious, multi-level parking garage.

“You’ll be fine, sweetie.” The older woman said. “I'll be right next to you the entire time, okay? You should be excited!”

“I am!” The blonde-haired nineteen-year-old girl grinned nervously, glancing down at her nice outfit to make sure there wasn’t any lint or cat fur. “I’m just . . . I don’t know. I’m scared.”

“You can be scared, honey. All that matters is that you do it anyway. What you don’t want to be, though, is late. So let’s go.”

The mother and daughter got out of their car, a white vehicle with a Wisconsin license plate, which stuck out in a place like California.

Holding hands, they made their way into the enormous, fancy building. Designing it must have been an architect’s dream. It was rather extravagant — white, mainly, with golden finishes and black accents stretching throughout the lobby and hallways. 

Jane and her mother couldn’t help but stare, wide-eyed, at the beauty that was just a tiny fraction of the first floor alone. 

After meeting the receptionist sitting behind a massive desk, also with golden finishes, they waited for their escort — a tall, blonde-haired man — and made their way to the hallway of elevators.

As they did so, a well-known pop singer walked by. It only intensified Jane’s inner panic. She couldn’t calm her racing heartbeat.

They arrived outside of a spacious, modern office. The man who escorted them, and also doubled as head of security, held the door open, and nervously, the mother and daughter stepped in. 

“Your 12:30 appointment has arrived,” the man said.

“Thank you, Erwin.” 

After giving you a nod, he left, leaving the mother and daughter in your grand office, which looked like a mini version of the lobby several floors down.

You sat in a chair behind a desk with your name imprinted along it.

With a smile, you looked up at the two visitors, and softly, you said, “Have a seat, please.”

They took their positions in the two white chairs in front of your desk. 

“Welcome to Arlert Records, ladies. Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, um,” the mother looked at her nervous daughter, “that would be nice, yes! What do you have?”

“We have everything here.”

The mother laughed in disbelief. 

“Oh, well, just water will be fine.”

You pressed on the tiny, bluetooth earpiece in your right ear. 

“Two waters,” you requested.

Darting your eyes between them both, and said, “It’ll be just a moment, ladies.”

“Okay, that’s perfectly fine,” the mother smiled politely. The older woman made eye contact with her anxious daughter, then flickered her blue eyes in your direction with a little nod of her head.

Eventually, her daughter took the hint.

She leaned forward, extending her trembling hand, and nervously, but with a smile, she said, “It’s n-nice to meet you, Mrs. Ackerman. I’m Jane Caddell.”

“The pleasure is mine, Jane,” you shook the girl’s sweaty, warm hand. “And, please, call me Y/N.”

“So,” clearing your throat, you paused, looking into Jane’s blue eyes. “I know you have gone over the finer details of your contract with legal representatives, but I wanted to personally meet you myself and welcome you to the record label.”

“Thank you so much,�� Jane grinned brightly. “It’s a dream come true!”

After giving two knocks, a woman walked in carrying a tray. She sat down two glasses of iced water with lemons on the rim on the table in between the two chairs. After receiving thanks from the mother and daughter, she left.

“You remind me of myself when I was younger, Jane,” you leaned back in your seat. “Unfamiliar with Hollywood, having nothing to rely on except a beautiful voice. They used to call me a diamond-in-the-rough, you know.”

Jane laughed nervously. Once again, she wiped her hands off of her pants. 

“Anyway, I plan on making you a star, Jane. I hope you weren’t too attached to that retail job of yours, because you won’t need it anymore.”

A tear rolled down Jane’s cheek. 

Were you telling the truth? Would she no longer have to work double shifts at Walmart just to help her mother out with the neverending bills?

“This all just sounds too good to be true, I mean, I can’t believe it. My daughter . . . a star.” The mother reached out, grabbing ahold of her daughter’s hand. “What happens now?”

“Well, this is completely optional, but I would recommend moving down here to Los Angeles, or as close to the city as you can get, that way you both won’t have to constantly travel back and forth.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “But, career-wise, you will work with our songwriters and producers to create your first official song. One of my signed artists, Jean Kirstein, has created countless amount of hit singles and albums for other artists, so I would like for you to work with him. In the meantime, when you’re not in the studio, you will have to take a couple of lessons — private classes, if you will — for media training, stage presence, and things of that nature. While you’re working hard, my company will be promoting you until you become a household name. How does that sound?”

Excitedly, the doe-eyed mother and daughter rambled on and on about their excitement. 

How innocent they were, having no clue what Hollywood was truly like.

Pitiful. 

The meeting came to an end around thirty minutes later, after discussing more career-establishing details. And, once they were escorted out, your fake smile faded away. You were left with nothing except the soulless expression that graced your face over the last few years, nothing more.

Pressing your earpiece, you softly said, “Send Jean Kirstein to my office, now.”

Ten minutes later, Jean appeared in your office, opening the door with his hand, which had a beautiful engagement ring on it. 

He took a seat in one of your chairs.

“Something wrong?” He asked plainly.

“Not at all,” you crossed your legs. “I signed a new artist recently. Her name is Jane Caddell. I want you to help her out. Write her songs, produce her music, do whatever is necessary to make sure her first album dominates the Billboard.”

“No problem,” Jean nodded. “Anything else?”

Tilting your head a bit, you questioned, “How are you doing? I haven’t talked to you in a while. It’s good to see you.”

Truth be told, Jean was in your massive building almost every single day, mainly in one of the recording studios, but your paths rarely crossed. After all, he was a solo artist now, making music for himself with the exception of moments like this, where you asked him to help out other artists.

He didn’t mind one bit. After all, there weren’t any silent men around to abuse him, and he was no longer living in anyone else’s shadow. 

He was happy. Truly. 

“I’m fine,” Jean smiled softly. “Great, actually. My wedding’s in a few months. We’re sending invitations out soon, and we’d love for you to come.”

“Maybe,” you replied, giving him a fake grin, one that he could see right through, but decided not to comment on. 

There was, perhaps, one thing in his life that wasn’t perfect.

You.

Someone he considered to be a close friend now after everything that has happened.

After all, he hadn’t seen you flash a real smile in years. Forgotten what your amazing laugh sounded like. What worried him more than anything, was that with every passing day, every moment that Armin and Levi went without justice, you were becoming more and more like the very person law enforcement failed to hunt down.

Manipulating others to achieve your goals.

Dominating Los Angeles and the entertainment industry.

There were some differences, though. Those you were willing to hurt financially, emotionally, or physically were often targets because they hurt your friends and artists intentionally or unintentionally. Everyone you cherished was cared for. Even so, Jean couldn’t help but question your values nowadays. It seemed as if money was all that mattered.

Money, and being merciless.

Shortly after Levi’s death, CS Records shut down completely. Some artists and employees enjoyed their newfound freedom, but the majority of people felt lost and were worried about what the absence of a record label — one that was known for paying their artists and employees insanely well — would mean for their careers.

That was when you started your own company with the help of Levi’s money. 

It had blossomed tremendously over the last few years. Artists and employees who previously worked for CS Records now worked for you. 

And that wasn’t all.

Arlert Records was only one of your companies. 

Ackerman Studios, for example, was your film company, and both businesses, along with others, existed underneath your global mass media entertainment conglomerate, The F/N L/N Corporation. The headquarters for it were in another California city about forty minutes away. 

You were now worth billions. Your name was worth billions. Your companies were worth billions.

The unspeakable amount of wealth you possessed was far greater than what Connie had ever pocketed, and in only three years.

If only you were happy. 

“Well, I better get going,” you started to get out of your chair. “I need to go down to headquarters today, and the film studio. There’s business to attend to.”

“Wait,” Jean stood up as well. “Do you want some company? I can come with-”

“No. I’m fine.”

With that, you headed for the door, heels clicking against the ground as you said, “There’s lots of work to do, Jean. Get back to it, and I’ll see you later.”

“Someone lock up my office in about five minutes,” you ordered into your earpiece.

—

Four bodyguards accompanied you during your transportive journey to your film studio across town.

Filmmakers, actors, and productive crew members were hard at work — either surrounded by green screens and cameras or shooting inside of the houses and buildings you build on the surrounding land of your property — everyone creating interesting movies that would certainly dominate the box office next year.

However, today, your business was with a very specific director named Brox Garrett.

A stupid name for a stupid man.

In your office in the main building, you sat on top of your desk, legs crossed, two bodyguards at your side.

Then, that stupid man with the stupid name entered, a smug look on his face.

“Brox! It’s good to see you,” you lied with a beautiful smile. “Have a seat.” 

“I’m fine with standing-”

“Have a seat.”

His bottom made contact with a chair instantly. Your kind, yet assertive tone was frightening. 

“I’m not happy with you, Brox. Do you know why?”

The middle-aged man gulped a bit, terrified to answer. 

“I take your silence as a sign that you don’t.” You frowned at him. “I’m not happy because I truly, truly hate myself right now. I hate myself for being such a fool when I hired you, the hotshot director who promised me that a fantastic action film would be released this next year.”

“We’re not that far off schedule, we just-”

“Stop talking, please.” You raised your hand. He didn’t say another word. “Anyway, I’ve had a very busy week. The last thing I wanted to do today was come down to the film studio, but here I am, all because I hired you. A fool. So, tell me, whose job was it to make sure Annie Leonhart’s harness was fully operational before shooting a jumping scene? As the director, it’s your job to double-check those things, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Annie’s a very close friend of mine. Someone I absolutely adore. And, now, she’s recovering from a broken leg and a concussion.” You sighed. “So, that’s exactly how you’re going to leave here today . . . with a broken leg and a concussion.”

You got off of your desk, making your way towards the door, whereas your bodyguards stayed behind, glaring at the director. 

“Wait, wait, wait-”

“Oh,” you turned back right before leaving, “and you’re fired, by the way. I’ll see to it that you never get a job in this industry ever again.”

Reaching into your purse, you pulled out a small packet, and tossed it at him, the wrapper crinkling as he caught it with trembling hands.

He glanced down at the item.

It was a beef-flavored pack of ramen noodles.

“For you and your children to share,” with a soft smile, you whispered, “use it wisely.”

He shouted something as you closed the door — what he said, you couldn’t have cared less — and you left him trapped in the office with your bodyguards who would make sure he left in the same condition his careless actions put Annie in.

One of your assistants, who was waiting outside of your office for you, perked up as soon as you came into view, clenching her iPad in preparation to take note of all the orders she was certain you’d bark at her. 

“Please make sure Annie is recovering well. Let’s send her on a vacation once she’s healed. Two weeks. Somewhere tropical. Write that down.”

“Yes ma’am,” your assistant immediately jotted that down. “It’s about time to cover Hange Zoe’s bills. Would you like to make any adjustments before I send the funds?”

“Yes,” you started walking down a hallway with multiple movie and TV show posters made by your studio hanging on the walls as decor, and your assistant trailed behind. “Their cat’s sick, so I’ve heard. Send enough money to cover the vet bills, and enough to buy a new cat if this one doesn’t pull through. In fact, just triple the amount we usually send. I don’t care how much they protest, either.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Does anyone else need anything?”

“Uh . . .” your assistant checked her notes, double checking to make sure that Hange, Erwin, Jean, Annie, and Sasha were all taken care of.

Mikasa hadn’t been in contact with you in years. 

Years.

But, according to Jean, she was doing alright, coping with everything that had happened by continuing to climb mountains and dive in the ocean, traveling from one country to the next.

Reiner, lovingly, didn’t need or want anything from you.

He did keep his word and traveled to Los Angeles about twice a year to check up on you. However, upon hearing how you’ve changed, he wanted you to come visit him down in the South. Even so, he knew good food and kind people couldn’t fix your problems like last time, but it was worth a shot, he figured. 

But you declined every invitation.

Then, lastly, there was Eren, who had spiraled after Levi’s death. But, he was starting to heal from his dark mental state. The same couldn’t be said for you.

“As far as requests involving money and career opportunities, all of your friends, clients, and employees are cared for, and all of your upcoming business events are all planned out. However, there are some . . . social requests.”

“Social?” You stepped into an elevator with the young woman.

“Yes ma’am,” she nodded, then darted her eyes down to her iPad. “Reiner invited you to yet another barbeque . . . Jean’s having a party . . . Erwin’s-”

“No, no,” you raised your hand, shaking your head. “I don’t have time for any of that. Just send everyone who has an upcoming event a gift of some sort.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

You knew what your friends were trying to do. They wanted to bring out the human side of you. The side that smiled. Laughed. Cared about things other than the entertainment industry and wealth. 

And, for a while, you promised them that, one day, you would show up for them.

Eventually, you would attend Hange and Erwin’s Thanksgiving dinners. You would grab drinks with Annie and Sasha. Teach underprivileged kids how to sing and play piano with Jean. Go down to Tennessee and visit Reiner and his family.

All of those promises were made and broken. 

But your friends never gave up on you, no matter how much you wished they would.

—

Together, you and your assistant traveled to the marvelous headquarters of The F/N L/N Corporation. There, the business you needed to attend to wasn’t directly connected to the entertainment industry. There, your business was personal. On the top several floors, men and women worked incredibly hard to keep your companies running, handling business, managing talent, and making your bank accounts grow. But, down in the basement to which you were escorted, a different set of employees were working on something entirely different. “I think you’ll be pleased, Mrs. Ackerman,” your escort said, guiding you down the twisty hallways and into a secure room with bright computers and intelligent minds at work. “I better be,” you replied. “If I traveled all this way for nothing, all of you are getting fired.” Stepping into the room, a dark-haired man looked at you with an unreadable expression — as if his soul was trapped somewhere between happiness and fear. “What?” You questioned, glancing around at the other faces staring at you. “What is it?” “We found him, Mrs. Ackerman. We found Connie.”

A photograph of Armin and Levi’s murderer appeared on a big display screen at the front of the room. There the bastard was, wearing a hood and sunglasses to conceal his identity. But, while the average Joe strolling down the street might not have recognized him with a hood on his head, surveillance cameras would. Weeks ago, Connie was assumed to be in Canada. Getting access to his old bank transactions had shown he had a house built out there years ago. It was almost as if he was prepared for his future, knowing that it would be filled with nothing but trouble. However, the details were locked up pretty tight, leaving no specific address that could be tracked down. But there he was. “Looks like he’s leaving some sort of market, so I’m guessing he might live close,” you commented, eyes darting down to the little brown bag in his fist. “Give us a week, and I’m certain we’ll be able to pin him down exactly.” “You have three days,” you started to walk away. “Address or not, I’m going to Canada, and I’m not leaving until I find him.” You could see it now, boarding a jet with your team of security, and finally being able to get your hands on Connie. Then, everyone could live safely. No longer would everyone who was affiliated with him need bodyguards surrounding them or their properties constantly.  And, best of all, Armin and Levi would have justice. Peace.

—

There was something rather somber about your days coming to an end. While you might have had one of the biggest mansions in Los Angeles, which was a gorgeous piece of modern, chateau-inspired art, it only intensified your loneliness. Your driver pulled down around your divine water fountain, dropping you off in front of the grand staircase that led to your double front doors. Your heels clicked with every step, the sound of it echoing into the night. In your house, you had live-in security and staff, sure — but they were employees. They did nothing to fill the gaping hole in your chest.  Before you reached your front doors, a moving figure caught your eye. Glancing up, the startling sight of someone sitting on your steps made you gasp. “Eren?” You frowned. “What are you doing here? You scared me.” “Sorry.” The man stood up from where he sat.  “No one tossed you off of my property?” Glaring, you added, “Everyone knows I don’t like visitors. Someone’s getting fired for this.” “No, don’t fire anyone, it’s my fault. I was trying to come see you, and you weren’t answering your phone, so I asked Erwin, and he said I could wait for you here.” Your face visibly softened. Erwin knew you wouldn’t dare fire him for this, but to disrespect your wishes and allow something like this only meant one thing: even he was trying to cure your loneliness, just like the rest of your friends. Of course, none of them were as persistent or stubborn as Eren Yeager.

“Why’d you want to see me? Do you need something?” “Yeah,” Eren smiled sadly. “I needed to see you.” “Well, I can’t help you with that.” You walked past him. Being alerted of your presence, a bodyguard standing by one of the doors opened it for you. “Go home.” Suddenly, Eren’s hand was wrapped around your arm, halting your footsteps.  “Wait,” he said.  “I wasn’t sure if you’d want this, but here.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a little box, and handed it to you. “Happy birthday.” Your eyes, which bore into his, glistened with utter confusion, and a look of shock that silently asked the question: You remembered? Slowly, you opened the gift. It was a ring, and not a last-minute purchase from Pandora. It was a silver band with a precious, bright gemstone.  “Thank you,” you mumbled. “It’s beautiful.” “You’re welcome,” he gave a soft smile. “Have a good night, okay?” He started to walk away, but he barely made it three steps down before you called his name. “Eren, wait.” The former rockstar turned around, gazing at you with curiosity, confusion, and hopefulness. “Do you want. . .” you sighed, fighting against the self-hatred you felt from being vulnerable. “Do you want to come inside for a little while?” When Eren smiled, it was as if no time had passed, as it was the same beautiful smile he gave you when you first met.

Red wine trickled and swooshed around as it was poured into the two glasses sitting on a table in the middle of your wine cellar. Eren preferred other alcoholic beverages over wine, but he’d be a fool to complain. After all, this was the first time you and him had hung out in over a year. He was curious about what had made you want to let him into your residence but refused to ask. But, once again, that expressional face of his betrayed him. As he sipped his beverage, you could see the curious gaze within his emerald eyes, along with his slightly furrowed brows, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. “If you’re wondering why I invited you inside,” you paused, putting the expensive wine bottle to the side. “It’s not because it’s my birthday. I’m celebrating something else right now.” “What is it?” “Well,” your face changed into a serious, yet excited look. “I’m getting closer to finding Connie. Surveillance cameras spotted him.” “That’s great,” Eren smiled. He was happy, truly. While the police were still looking, they had failed to make any progress over the last three years.  Eren did everything he could, which amounted to never shutting up in front of the cameras, and opening his mouth about everything CS Records had done to him and Jean Kirstein.  With your help, he was able to get a few Silent Men tossed in prison, but not Connie. As badly as he wanted him to be punished, there was one thing he wanted even more. He wanted your old self to come back. “After he’s dealt with, do you think you’ll come hang out with your friends every now and then?” Eren asked softly. “We all miss you.” You took another sip of your wine.  “I can’t make any promises, Eren. Finding him won’t bring Armin and Levi back, and that’s what really . . .” your glass clinked as you sat it on top of a marble coaster. “Everyone’s always telling me that they would want me to be happy. Move on. And I know that, believe me, but what if I don’t feel better after Connie’s dead or in prison? What if I feel this shitty for the rest of my life? I keep telling myself that once they get justice, everything will go back to normal, but what is there to go back to? In the beginning, all I had was Armin. In the end, all I had was Levi. Who’s left?” “Your friends, Y/N.” Eren leaned forward. “We’re still here, and we aren’t going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere, you know that. Me, Jean, Annie, Sasha, Erwin, Hange . . . Reiner and Mikasa might not be close by, but they’re still here too.” “You say that, but Mikasa hasn’t said a word to me in years,” you took another sip of your wine, wishing that it was something stronger. “Have you reached out?”  You didn’t respond, which, indirectly, was an answer in itself. “If you don’t stop a friend from walking away, then you’re the one who has to reach out to bring them back. That’s how it works.” “Is that what you’re doing now? To me?” You raised your eyebrows at the man, who suddenly had grown wiser over the last few years.  “No,” Eren’s eyes darted down at the exquisite wooden table. “With you, I’m the one who walked away and I’m the one who’s reaching out. I just wish you wouldn’t push me away.” “Don’t take it personally.”

A few moments of silence passed.

Eren suddenly pulled two things out of his pocket. The first item was an old, braided, paracord keychain with faded green and brown colors. The second item was something you recognized. It was an overused, bent, blue bookmark. “This,” Eren held up the keychain, “belonged to Marco. He put his house key on this thing. I’ve kept it for years.”  “This,” Eren put the bookmark on the table, “belonged to Armin. He left it at my house that night before he was shot. Those two never knew each other, but they had a lot in common, you know? Both too kind for their own good.” “Both were killed by Connie.” You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but you couldn’t help it, even if Marco’s death was an accident.  “Anyway, I just like to hold on to things people love, sometimes. They don’t necessarily have to be dead, either. Jean’s guitar pick is at my house . . . I have a scarf Mikasa used to love wearing . . . I have your-” “Do you have anything of Levi’s?” Cutting him off wasn’t intentional, but luckily, he didn’t mind.  “Yeah,” Eren’s eyes darted down to the ring he gifted you. “That ring.” “What?” You gave a confused frown. “What does that mean?” “I didn’t realize it at the time, but when Levi and I were talking at the hospital a few years ago, he told me in great detail what he wanted your wedding ceremony to look like. Even though you were already married, he was still going on and on about it. After he died, I realized that he wasn’t telling me his plans. He was trying to help me plan.” Eren smiled sadly. “I guess he thought that after his death, after grieving for a few months, you’d come right back to me. I don’t think he knew how much his death would change things. I don’t think he understood just how much you loved him, or how much I’d miss him. I used to look up to him, you know? But . . . I know you and me aren’t . . .” Eren stopped speaking. A pained look flashed in his eyes.  “Either way, no matter what, that ring was meant for you, so I wanted to give it to you.” A soft, miserable laugh of disbelief escaped you.  As smart as Levi, he was truly a fool if he thought moving on from someone like him would be so easy. No. Both he and Armin had left you forever changed. “I remember him promising me that I’d have a proper wedding with a proper ceremony. I didn’t know he wanted it to happen with someone who wasn’t him.” “Hey, don’t get the wrong idea,” Eren sat up a bit. “He did want that stuff with you, he just knew it couldn’t happen. That’s why he passed it on . . . to me.”  You nodded, indicating that you understood. And truly, you did. You understood just how cruel the world was. “Sometimes, I forget I’m not the only person grieving.” You reached out, touching Eren’s arm. “You know a thing or two about it as well, hm?” “Worst feeling in the world.” Eren suddenly sighed, masking his grief behind a false smile. “I guess I better get going. It’s late.” A frown appeared across your face. You wanted to ask him to stay, and knowing him, he would have, but you only stood up, getting ready to walk him out.  “Once all this is over, come find me, okay?” Eren smiled beautifully. No matter what, his grin could and would always make you go weak at the knees.  “I won’t make any promises,” you held onto one of the double doors as he stepped through.  “But thank you for coming over. It was nice. Goodnight.” “Goodnight.”

Eren gave you one last smile and made his way towards his car.

—

— CANADA, ONE WEEK LATER —

Connie knew it was a trap. 

A bearded guy was urging him to come into his family-owned bar, prattling on and on about how much he sought customers, and when Connie stepped into the dusty environment that smelt of wood, he knew something was off.

There was not a soul in the bar.

Connie sipped on the cheap bottle of beer, sleeved elbows pressed into the counter as the bartender watched him.

Connie cracked open a peanut. Sipped on his beverage. Listened to the soft music playing in the background. 

If this was a trap, just as his gut told him, then he wanted it to happen already because he was tired of this life. Tired of running. Tired of having nothing. 

The bar doors opened. Connie didn’t bother turning around, but he could hear it being locked.

Finally, he thought.

He could hear footsteps approaching, and he recognized them. It was the same rhythmic pattern of the person who once lived in his old mansion, walking up and down the halls, glancing into every room to see what he was doing. 

“I thought I told you I’d kill you if I ever saw your face again?” Connie shouted out, taking another swig of his beer.  

“And I told you that when you manipulate someone, you end up teaching them all of your tricks.” 

You made your way up to Connie, grabbing a seat on the stool next to him, crossing your legs as you smiled devilishly.

The bartender pulled out a gun, glaring at the former entrepreneur. 

He must’ve been some sort of bodyguard, as well as a shitty actor.

“You come here for revenge or some shit?” Connie rubbed the dark circles underneath his eyes. “Is that what this is? Are you trying to kill me now? ‘Cause I don’t think you have it in you.”

“Do you want me to try and kill you? Is that why you made it so easy for me to find you recently?” You tilted your head a bit. “I couldn’t piece together why, after all these years, would we suddenly be able to catch your face on camera. But it’s starting to make sense now.”

“I just wanted to see if what I heard was true. That you’ve turned out to be another version of me. Personal guards, business owner-”

“My businesses are greater than CS Records ever will be — or ever was, I should say. In such a short amount of time, I’m already more successful than you ever were,” you reached out, teasingly touching Connie’s shoulder. He could feel your hatred for him just in the way your fingertips graced his clothed skin.

“You can say that, but we’re the same, you and me. I started out only hurting people who hurt my friends and employees too. Manipulating people to make myself richer. Then, I started hurting anyone who made me look bad. All you need now is some fresh-faced, diamond-in-the-rough artist who’ll show up and ruin every-fucking-thing you worked hard to build. I suggest you find a hideout for yourself too.” 

Connie tried to take another swig of his beer, but the bottle was empty. 

“I had a great thing going until your ass came to Hollywood. Everyone was happy. Not just me, but my artists too. Then you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh? Why the fuck couldn’t you stay in New York?”

“I wish I stayed in New York too,” your voice was soft. “I wish I never met you.” 

 “Take it from me, Y/N.” For the first time since you arrived, Connie looked into your eyes. “Don’t fuck up like I did. Get your shit together . . . before it’s too late.” “Look who made words of encouragement their fun, new hobby,” you spoke with fake, sugary enthusiasm. “Keep working on that while you’re in prison.”

“What?” Connie furrowed his brows, his eyes darting over to the man with the gun. “You’re not gonna kill me?” 

“And put you out of your misery? No way,” you smiled cruelly, pushing his arm as if you were talking with a friend — chatting with a dear old pal. “No, see, what’s going to happen now is that you and I are both going to live, and we’ll both be miserable, because you’ll have nothing, and I’ll spend the rest of my life grieving. But, the only difference is that you’ll be behind bars, and I’ll be behind my office desks.”

You got up from your seat. 

“So, are you going to try to make a run for it, or will you make this nice and easy?”

“I’m not running.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I’m tired, Y/N.” Connie got up from his seat. “Please don’t send me back to prison. Just kill me or something . . . Please.”

Your mind was made up, that much was clear, but Connie figured that he’d still try his hardest to change your mind. 

As the images of prison flashed through his mind, he was certain, for a fact, that he would rather burn in hell. “Hearing you beg like that reminds me of when I begged you not to imprison me after my album release party. Remember that?” With a small, little laugh, you started to make your way towards the doors. 

As soon as you unlocked the doors and stepped through them, your team of security bombarded the tiny, old-fashioned bar, and successfully detained Connie.

After yet another week, the prison Levi had poured his money into years ago was more than willing to continue with the deal. Not that he had any ounce of power to influence anyone to free him, to begin with. 

But, after a chaotic session of trials, overwhelming evidence, and teary-eyed speeches, Connie Springer would die in prison.

And, more importantly, Armin Arlert and Levi Ackerman could rest in peace.

—

— ONE MONTH LATER —

You were nervous. 

Panicked, even. 

But, even so, you knocked on the light brown door to Eren’s childhood home, which was rather nice, given that his dad was a doctor.

Carla answered with a look of curiosity, wiping her hands off on a kitchen towel as she greeted you. 

Even though the Yeager family had briefly moved to Maine for their safety, Eren still owned their home, hopeful for days like these, in which they could come back. And here they were. Right where they belonged.

“Hi, is Eren here?” You asked with as much kindness as you could muster. 

“He sure is,” Carla stepped to the side, welcoming you into the foyer. “Eren! Come here!”

Eren often spent Sunday afternoons visiting his family, so you heard. It was a new habit, one that came to him after almost losing his life and having his mother’s safety put in danger.

So, as it was 1:30 on the last day of the weekend, you had sought him out here, and from down a hallway, he approached, an amused grin appearing once he realized you were here.

“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you said, glancing down at your shoes, then back up at him. “I know you’re spending time with your family and all, but I’m busy next weekend and the weekend after that, and weekdays are no better, so I was just wondering if I could . . . um . . .”

“Sure,” Eren agreed to whatever plans you hadn’t yet planned. “Let’s go.”

Minutes later, you and Eren were strolling down the street, side by side. Your eyes scanned his clothes. Something was rather different, and rather quickly, you pieced together what it was. He was wearing a white shirt with some sort of logo on it. His sweatpants were light blue.

Dressed only expecting to see his mother and father today, perhaps some cousins as well, certainly, but even so, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing what it symbolized.

“You’re not wearing black,” you pointed out. 

“Huh?” Eren looked down at his outfit. “Oh. Yeah. I love black clothes, don’t get me wrong, but it’s nice to not be forced to have to wear it, you know?”

He truly meant what he said long ago — that he was done living in the spotlight.

“What have you been doing lately? Since you’re not a rockstar anymore?”

“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything.” 

“Those are two different things, Eren.”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Eren kicked a rock, his hands in his pocket. “I’ve been hanging out with my family, traveling, trying new foods — oh, you ever try octopus before? Don’t eat it, you’re not missing anything — uh . . . what else . . . I’ve been playing guitar, which is pretty easy even with eight fingers . . .  I have time to watch movies now. I can nap. I don’t know, but I’m happy.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, I can tell. Trust me.”

Eren smiled gently. You were both silent for a second, then, he asked, “Why’d you wanna come see me?”

You hesitated to answer for a moment, but then, you decided to tell him the truth.

“Connie . . . he gave me a bit of a wakeup call. Told me that I was headed down the same path as him. In fact, he warned me to change. Can you believe that?”

For once, in the longest time, Eren felt grateful for Connie’s existence. As stupid as he was, the idiotic, murderous man was correct.

“He’s right,” Eren said.

“I know. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you all month, but I finally just got the courage. Trying to not be like him won’t be easy, but I’m . . . trying. I went to Levi and Armin’s graves. Told them they could rest peacefully now. I started therapy. I’m hanging out with you. I’m trying.”

Eren halted his footsteps. As soon as he heard a sniffle come from you, he moved in front of you, pulling you in for a hug as a few tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I’m proud of you,” Eren whispered. “I started therapy too. Why do you think I’ve started to become so wise? And you know what he told me? He said that grief becomes manageable. I hope his ass is right. He can afford steak, lobster, and caviar with how much money he’s squeezing outta me because I’m there every week.”

Lightly, you chuckled a bit, although it was more of a puff of air rather than a laugh. 

You weren’t a fool. There was, perhaps, something that could help you feel just a bit better, even if it couldn’t cure your problems completely.

“I think I need to leave L.A. for a little while, maybe for a month. Maybe a year.”

Eren pulled away from you, surprised to hear such a statement coming from you. Your therapist must have cost a fortune too if they were this  incredibly skilled. 

“I agree, but, where are you going?” Eren frowned with worry.

You shrugged. 

“I don’t know, but in a few weeks, I’m going to briefly trust my companies to Erwin and Jean until I return. I think I want to visit the south, maybe. Aside from touring with you, I’ve only been down there once, but I miss it.” Shyly — an emotion you hadn’t experienced in years, you asked Eren, “Do you want to come with me? Maybe?”

Eren smiled. 

He was far from southern. Couldn’t wrap his mind around the sweet tea obsession and being overly friendly to strangers at the grocery store, but he’d go to hell with you if you asked him to. Even now, a few weeks early, he was ready to head home and pack his bags. 

After your long walk, you returned to Eren’s childhood home and had dinner with his family.

—

— TENNESSEE —

As an artist, Eren had the ability to travel the world, as grand in size as it was. Flying from state to state and from country to country was a gift, truly, but he never had the opportunity to explore. To sight-see. To witness the way other people outside of Los Angeles lived their lives — something he was very interested in, as he was a nosy person.

While on tour, he was only able to see backstage dressing rooms, hotels, and stadiums. Nothing more, usually.

But, now, as you and him rode in the backseat of a car, staring at gorgeous mountains and colorful, beautiful trees, he had to admit that it was a much better view than the Hollywood sign. 

Even so, it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the woman sitting beside him, staring out of the window with a soft smile.

Around two hours later, you and Eren arrived at a spacious, modern farmhouse with a black and brown exterior that you purchased solely for this trip.

“It’s nice, right? Perfect place to hide away for a while?” 

You started walking up the steps, and Eren followed as you continued to speak. “And, listen, I don’t expect you to want to stay the entire time, because, like I said, I plan to be here for a few months if not an entire year, so you can leave whenever you’d like.”

“It means a lot that you asked me,” Eren said. “If it’s alright with you, I don’t wanna go anywhere.”

—

The next three days were spent exploring the surrounding tourist attractions. Together, you and Eren admired nature on hiking trails, drove to Nashville to experience music festivals, and of course, introduced yourselves to southern cuisine.

It wasn’t a total escape from the world of flashing lights and cameras, of course, as you and Eren were both still celebrities. 

But, even the simplest disguises — sunglasses and a hat or hood — often prevented people from doing a double take, and you were both able to enjoy yourselves somewhat peacefully.

As the sun started to set, the sky fading from a soft blue to a mesmerizing soft orange, bright and quirky neon signs were now on full display. Nearby, country singers performed on the street with nothing but a nice voice and an acoustic guitar, drawing in small, happy crowds. 

People walked up and down the strip with their friends and families.

As you stood there, waiting patiently for Eren, you couldn’t help but admire them.

They all had someone. 

Loneliness was starting to creep back up within you like an old enemy, a subtle frown appearing on your face. But, just before those negative feelings could overwhelm the happiness you felt right now, Eren's voice snapped you back to your refreshing reality — unintentionally reminding you that you weren’t alone.

He was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Never had. 

Never will.

“Here,” he held out a tiny paper plate with peach cobbler on it. “Have you tried this before?”

Taking your plate as he glanced down at his own, you replied, “Yes. It’s really good!”

Your sudden excitement was all the convincing he needed. He bit into the sweet dessert, tasting the soft crust and sweet peaches. It was, indeed, a heartwarming meal, one that made him smile.

“I get why you wanted to come down here,” Eren said, going in for another bite as you took one as well. 

“See?” You sighed happily. “But anyway, tomorrow, I was thinking we could go canoeing. There’s a big lake nearby, and I’ve always wanted to try canoeing.”

“Okay,” Eren grinned.

“We can also go to a spa.” 

“Okay.”

“There’s also a cool restaurant I want to try.”

“Okay.”

Amusingly, you grinned, “is there any chance you want to count grains of sand with me too? You’re agreeing to everything right now. You’re the true definition of being down for whatever.”

“You knew that when I agreed to come to the south for a year on a whim,” Eren took another bite of his cobbler. “It’s nice to see you smile again, you know? You think I’m crazy enough to ruin that by turning down something you wanna do?”

“You’re adorable,” your compliment was mumbled, as, truly, it was something you meant to say in your head, but you spoke unintentionally, and Eren’s never-fading smile only brightened — adorably, of course.

Leaning down a bit, he softly kissed your cheek.

“You’re going to get peach cobbler on my face. That’s nasty.” 

He ignored your little comment, and kissed your cheek again, all because it made you smile.

—

When visiting a different state for longer than a couple of days, there comes a point when hopping from one tourist attraction to the next, trying an abundance of different foods, and relaxing near some sort of body of water had to briefly end to handle real-life adult tasks and responsibilities.

Typically, you would have had your live-in chef stock the fridge with groceries, and it had become a task that you were no longer familiar with doing. 

Every time you opened the refrigerator, there was a variety of food. Always.

However, during your attempts to heal your soul, you left your staff behind in Los Angeles, except for two bodyguards.

Even with Connie locked away, you still faced danger as a billionaire, celebrity, and human being. That was life, unfortunately.

Therefore, when you opened the fridge today, you were quite puzzled to see that — aside from three water bottles and a blue carton of eggs with only two remaining — it was empty.

“Eren,” you called out to the shirtless man in the living room, who just finished showering after working out in the home gym downstairs.

“Yeah?”

“I have to go to the grocery store, I’ll be right back.”

“No, I’ll go, you stay here.” Eren offered, already walking to his room to get fully dressed. 

“We could just go together.” Your suggestion went unanswered.

Shortly after, Eren left.

—

Two hours had passed. 

The closest grocery store wasn’t far. You hadn’t done such mundane things like grocery shopping in an incredibly long time, but it was just the two of you. 

There was no logical reason why he wasn’t back home yet.

You called him, twice, but after following the ringing sounds around your temporary home, you found his phone downstairs in the gym. He must’ve forgotten it while rushing out the door.

Maybe he was having trouble leaving the store. 

Maybe people realized who he was, and he was being bombarded by fans. Did he remember to wear a hat or hood? Did he have sunglasses with him? You couldn’t be certain.

Thirty more minutes passed.

You were pacing back and forth on the porch, waiting for a car to appear in your driveway.

What if he was sick of being around you, and he used this opportunity to escape back to California?

Why else would a man who has won Grammy awards be so excited and eager to go to Walmart?

What if he had gotten hurt? What if Connie did something, somehow? 

What if he had gotten into a car accident? Or a robbery?

What if he was dead?

“Jacob, can you please go to the local Walmart and see if Eren’s okay?” You said to one of your bodyguards who stood nearby, watching you pace around, biting your manicured nails.

“Yes ma’am.”

Moments later, his car drove off.

Your anxiety was all-consuming. The nausea you felt, swirling around in the pit of your stomach, made you consider hovering over the nearest toilet, but no. You couldn’t go back inside. Not now.

After what happened with Levi, never again would you assume that someone you cared for would return home after leaving.

Around twenty minutes drifted on by with you pacing, pacing, and pacing, only to stop when your phone rang. It was your bodyguard, informing you that he couldn’t find Eren at the nearest grocery store.

He promised to check again. Said he’d try a few other stores as well. He said something else too, but by then, you were sitting on the porch step, crying into your hands.

How guilty your other bodyguard felt — standing there, watching you. Rarely did you ever talk to him, and you hadn’t known anything about him aside from his name, which was Carter, but he was a sweet person, and he wanted to comfort his boss. But he couldn’t. His job was to watch over you and keep his eyes open, and only come in contact with you if it was to push or pull you out of harm’s way.

But you were crying. Sobbing. Assuming the worst.

When headlights came into view, you glanced up from your soaking-wet hands. Eren had barely parked the car before he hopped out — forgetting about the groceries entirely — and rushed up the steps before sitting by your side.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked with great worry, rubbing your back soothingly.

Both relief and great aggravation washed over you. 

“Where the hell were you, Eren? I was worried! How long does it take to buy a few groceries?”

Eren turned around, looking at your bodyguard. “Can you give us a minute?” 

Carter nodded and decided to busy himself by bringing the groceries in, putting them away, and telling the other bodyguard to come back.

“I’m sorry,” Eren spoke softly. “I took so long because I bought a lot of groceries, and I ended up talking to some people, and just taking my time. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re such an idiot,” you cried. “Why did you leave so eagerly, then? Why didn’t you ask me to come with you?”

Eren reached over, swiping his thumb across your cheek as he wiped your tears away. “Because I wanted to surprise you. I bought the stuff to make that salad you like. The one that reminds you of Armin? The strawberry chicken one? I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I thought you might’ve gotten hurt, or worse,” you sniffled. “Do you know how terrifying it is? Not knowing if someone you’re in love with will make it back home? Damn it, Eren . . .”

Eren pulled you in closer. From where your head rested near his neck and shoulder, you could feel just how fast his heart was beating.

Perhaps, it was from your confession, although, truthfully, it should have been a fact that he was well aware of. After all, Eren always had a place in your heart — something you told him repeatedly.

Love, in its truest and purest form, doesn’t ever simply die. 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, so you don’t have to worry about me, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried. You should know that by now.” Eren kissed your forehead. “And I’m in love with you too, but you should know that as well, right?”

A soft laugh escaped you.

When you pulled away from Eren, you stared into charming eyes that gazed into yours with nothing but love, and a tad bit of concern.

“What is it?” He asked.

Your lips were suddenly pressed against his before your new fear of being loved could overwhelm your desire to kiss him. And, god — when his hand cupped the side of your face, lips moving against yourself as if a lost piece of his soul was being restored, it felt as if you were both falling in love all over again, even if you were, perhaps, already there.

— One year later, Eren proposed. He had to outdo himself — create a romantic experience that would shame his former self, who married you in Las Vegas the first time around and tossed together a last-minute wedding.  Though, your marriage back then fit the wild love story you once both shared, but, even so, he had the pen once again, and he was determined to write this new fairytale properly.  And it would start with the perfect proposal. God, was he nervous. He arranged a beautiful display of twinkling fairy lights wrapped around gorgeous trees, flower petals spread on the ground, and he gathered a few musicians to play the violin as you both approached the desired spot. Much to your surprise, he got down on one knee, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gaze, and asked, “Will you marry me?” Eren rose to his feet and kissed you lovingly after you said yes.

— Leaving the South was like waking up from a dream — an amazing, beautiful dream, but, even so, you were determined to make your reality just as perfect. And it started with marrying Eren. Not yet had you returned to Los Angeles. Europe was your next destination, as it was the place where you and Eren were to be remarried. Much like your wedding to Connie, the memorable ceremony was held inside a gorgeous castle with lavish candle chandeliers and pretty flowers, esteemed guests, and a beautiful gown that graced your body — every immaculate detail that Levi had once imagined had come to life.  Upon seeing you in a gorgeous dress, tears streamed down Eren’s cheeks. He couldn’t believe his luck, getting the opportunity to marry you again. And Jean, who was his best man, having mended their friendship over the last few years, teared up a bit too out of complete and utter happiness for you both. They were all there to watch you walk down the aisle. Not only Jean, but Reiner, Hange, Erwin, Annie, Sasha, and even Mikasa — another friendship that was recently mended.  Loving vows were exchanged, romantic gazes cast upon one another. As you stared into the eyes of the man you would spend the rest of your life loving, you said, “I do.”  And you said it for the very last time.

—

No longer was your mansion in Los Angeles a place of loneliness. Eren had moved in, and your friends had visited quite often, filling your home with love and laughter, as it should be.  It wasn’t long before that very special night came, in which Eren thrust into you softly as he moaned, pressing kisses against your naked skin — touching his lips wherever he could. Never had he come so much in his life. He was almost embarrassed about the way he stuffed you, his pretty wife, and moaned your name like a prayer. That was why, although incredibly happy, he wasn’t surprised when you showed him a positive pregnancy test soon after. The best doctors in the world would guide you through your pregnancy.  Having miscarried before, it was tempting to let your pregnancy be consumed with nothing but fear and worry, but this time, you had someone to hold your hand. “I’m right here,” your husband often said. “I’ll always be here.” Giving birth in a hospital bed to a beautiful, healthy baby girl named Nia was one of the greatest, and most chaotic, days of your lives.  But Nia had a father who cried upon holding her, and a waiting room packed with family and friends who also adored her. She had you as well, a mother who would protect her and see to it that she wouldn’t ever know anything other than love and joy.  And thirteen years later, she was sitting outside on the luxurious patio with you, listening to you tell her your life story, which started with your old friend, and a tiny bakery in New York.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

🎟: @consuming-karma @lilvampirina @okaystopwhore @chrollohearttags @nanamochii @bunny2612 @cupids-soul @crazychaoticizzy @ramonathinks @averysmolbear @seishirogf @6sakusa @levin4nami @chaotic-on-main @sad-darksoul @gwapbby @katestrophes @ventdavi154 @lovelyless-fiction @svftackerman @musegonemad @moonmalice @inciteterr0r @honeybleed @zeninsbitch @purple-milk24 @itzgabz22 @mooomuu @micafecitoconpan @beaniebanby @anonymousme23 @theitchbbbb @skit-brentfaiyaz @princessos-blog @elliesbabygirl @the-mrs-steve-harrington @kittenbabe00 @magictrump @hetalia-tumbler @hon3y-c0mb @bol0-de-morang0 @thisisketchy @yoongirecs @allofffmypeaches @sasha-glass @getwaves @deluluvibes @p3nislawd @emery-333

[watch-grok-brainrot]

hey!! i'm back again with another ask! (god please tell me if i'm annoying? i just want to send you as many asks as i can but if i get too annoying, pls tell me off) my questions today are, what are your top 3 songs from the cql ost and what tea do you not like? like, is there a tea you don't like? also, is there a tea you like in particular? what cdramas have you watched besides cql?? - ❄🐇

hey snowbunny! you’re not annoying! i really appreciate you being so engaged with the mdzsnetcc event! :D 

cql ost fav songs: the characters songs for jiang cheng, lan xichen, and wei wuxian. they’re all so pretty and so sad. bu wang kinda  annoys me with the epic orchestra thing in the middle and wuji almost makes the cut but it’s just not as depressing as the others. though wei wuxian’s character song does lose points for the duet part that has a female voice and not yibo singing along... alas. 

i don’t like lipton? lol. so most ctc blends i’m meh on... but i don’t add milk and sugar to my tea for the most part so i need something that works well by itself and most ctc teas are made for british style drinking. 

i like many teas in particular. particularly their aroma and texture. some are light and airy and sweet. some are heavy and grounding. some are earthy and warming and smooth. i love so many teas for so many reasons. i can’t even begin to explain. i think high elevation taiwanese oolongs with crisp sweet and floral notes are a style that i will always love and always hold dear to my heart. 

i used to be really into BPAL (black phoenix alchemy lab) because i like the idea of smells carrying memories for people. and i like the idea of being able to differentiate smells and remember how things blend together to form flavors and then, in extension, feelings. so i got really into bpal -- which is an indie perfume company-- and started collecting samples (imps). in all of that i started getting better at picking out certain smell objects (e.g. rose or orange or honey etc) and really loving how bpal smells different wet in bottle, wet on me, dry on me, and dry at the end of a day. 

and then i realized tea has a lot of those qualities. it tastes different piping hot and kinda hot and warm and cooled. it has layers and dimensions. when you gongfu brew you can almost parse out the layers of flavors and really experience isolated snapshots of the tea as a whole. i liken it to chromatography for the chemistry folk. and in some ways tea became the merging of my nerdy science self and smell obsessed self and my gluttonous self. so it was a good fit. also booze. but booze is less.. socially acceptable to drink 24/7. :P

wow. that got long. oops. 

anyway, cdramas. omg. uh... a lot. i’m chinese so i grew up watching stuff... like i’ve been watching cdramas for a LONG time. (note: i went on a long ramble and i’m kinda sorry so don’t feel obligated to read all of this... ) i watched the mainland china’s version of journey to the west (made in 1986 i think.. go them on video tapes borrowed from idk where in the early 90s... the one episode i wanted to watch the most didn’t work. i was devastated).  and then a lot of wuxia shows -- mostly jin yong stuff. i remember i was 8 or 9 and watched a few eps of condor heroes. my parents finished the show without me. i was pissed. and at some point i watched dream of red mansion and romance of three kingdoms. both classics made into cdramas. and then i remember when zhao wei was in princess pearl. and i also watched 情深深雨蒙蒙 with basically the same cast... and a lot of other wuxia shows that came out around that time..uh.. early 2000s. i remember watching some show with zhou xun in it too around that time... and trying to find more stuff with zhang ziyi. man... zhou xun, zhao wei, and zhang ziyi were and are still all so pretty! and then i watched liu yifei (of live action mulan infamy) back in 2003(?) when she was in a few jin yong novel based show roles. and then um... i kinda got annoyed with the constant remake of those stories so i stopped watching them. but i did enjoy 天龙八部 and 笑傲江湖. seriously, i would watch the crap out of a 笑傲江湖 starring xiao zhan... but the novels were written in the 60s/70s and rather not LGBT friendly so i’m also fine with them never getting remakes... and then there was the meteor garden craze. i watched that, part of teh sequel (which wasn’t very good) and a few shows the actors were in... i really liked the MARS manga and was sad that the taiwanese adaptation of it as a show was meh. and around 2013-2014ish i started watching random crap... uh... like my first time seeing luo yunxi (who plays the white cat master aka chu wanning in hao yi xing / the erha live action) was in 何以笙箫默. and i was so confused by how weirdly they styled the poor man. he did not look good. the stying really emphasized his facial features to make his face look unbalanced. and i binged a few other shows while trying to write my thesis. i don’t remember them all. and then there was NiF and i also watched the Disguiser and some other random stuff as part of that rabbit hole. i thought “when a snail falls in love” was really cute even if the story wasn’t really that good. idk. i now put cdramas on in the bkgd while making gifs. so i’ve “watched” eternal love, ashes of love (DO NOT RECOMMEND. but skip around for luo yunxi being pretty i guess), love o2o. i’m currently seriously watcihng Ever Night. it’s so freaking good and king’s avatar (also on netflix) is my gif making bkgd. i have a soft spot for how pretty yang yang is... yeah. knowing the language helps me get through shows. lol. 

do you watch other cdramas snowbunny?

[green-ball-of-trash]

Roman in The Closet by Himself!! Part 1

word count: 2202

ship: Prinxiety, Background Logicality, Background Remile, vaguely mention Demus.

part1/part2/part3/part4/?

WARNINGS: self deprecation, depression, repression, non-censored cursing, the word wh*re is used and it not censored, lgbtq+phobia is mentioned in this chapter but not directed at any of the characters.    

summary: Roman has a rough journey with his sexuality, and his crush on a certain little emo~ 

-

-

-

   Roman had always been enraptured with the concept of love. He could remember watching Disney movies when he was younger, where the prince rescues the princess and they both live happily ever after. 

    Although, he was never really focused on the princess of the story but more so on they heroic prince. He always thought that Prince Phillip was so much more interesting than Arora, but his little child mind couldn’t understand nor explain why that was. 

   Until he was ten years old~

  He had been looking at Disney videos on his ipad, when he discovered a peculiar video with a rainbow flag in the thumbnail. He thought that all the colors on the flag looked pretty, so he decided to click on it. 

   He heard phrases in the video that he had never heard before, such as; gay, trans, homosexaul, bisexual, pansexual, and so many more and he had absolutely no idea what they meant. Even though he had no clue, he watched the entire video. After the video was over, he got out his red notebook with Disney stickers plastered haphazardly all over the front and back cover. 

  He decided to rewatch the video again and write down any words that he didn’t understand, and look them up after he was finished. Logan is gonna be so proud of me, he had said to himself thinking of his quiet nerdy best friend. 

  He spent the entire day learning things like pride, non-bianary, gender fluid, and more. He felt like he had opened his eyes to a completely new world and he was so excited about it. He had no idea there were so many different types of amazing people. He was so… Excited! 

  His parents were busy with work downstairs, and his brother was over at a friends house so he took it upon himself to spend his entire day learning and watching videos on this community of people. It was impossible to learn everything in a day, but he was determined to try. 

  He listened to and read people’s stories on the internet, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t cry. Why were people so mean to them? He had asked himself, why are there so many mean people in the world? They were just being themselves, why couldn’t people just be proud of them? What Roman didn’t know at the time, is that he would have a few stories of his own like that in the future. 

  A few weeks later, he was on the swings with his best friend Logan. Swinging back and forth with the breeze as they talked about anything and everything, non-sense and Disney, jokes and laughter, serious topics and funny stories, until Roman decided to bring up some of the stuff he had learned to his friend. He kicked his legs back and forth carelessly as he spoke, “hey, Lo?” Logan had looked at him, as Logan wasn’t swinging nearly as much as Roman was but more just drifting to and fro with the wind as he talked with his flamboyant best friend, “yeah Ro?”

Roman grinned for a minute before speaking, “have you heard of LGBTQ+?”

Logan had nodded at his question, “yeah, my dads talk about it all the time.” He said in a nonchalant manner. Roman groaned, frustrated “AWWW, I thought I learned about something that you didn’t..” Roman stopped his swinging, skidding his bright red shoes across the ground to stop himself.

 Logan chuckled and pushes up his glasses, “sorry Ro, but I know everything.” 

  Roman stared at Logan throwing his hands about as he spoke, “that's not fair.” he said the last word dragging it out like it was the end of the world. 

  Roman had met Logan’s dads before, yet he never knew what LQBTQ+ meant and he didn’t know that a lot of people thought it was a bad thing. He thought it was awesome that Logan’s dads loved each other, even before he knew that they loved each other if that made any sense. To Roman it made complete sense in his ten year old mind.

  Roman then got an idea, “Hey Logan, there was some things I didn’t understand when I was lookin’ up stuff about it. Do you think you could answer some of my questions?”

Logan looked a little excited to teach Roman, and they spent the rest of the time on the swings not swinging but talking. Talking about something that would be very important to them one day. 

  7 years later~ 

  Roman was seventeen, and he was the most popular kid in his highschool, everyone had taken a liking to his outgoing nature. His best friends Logan, Patton, and Virgil were popular right along with him. There was only one thing that bothered Roman, his sexuality. He was terrified, from the bottom of his heart he was terrified because ne knew that he was not straight in any sense of the term. He was as curved as a rollercoaster and the ride made him feel woozy and nauseous.

     He knew that the vast majority of his school would hate him for being the way he was, so you know what he did? Like the scared little closeted boy he was he ran into the deepest corner of that closet and hid like a little toddler in hide and seek, only he wasn’t a toddler and this wasn’t hide and seek, this was hide for your life. At least that was what it had felt like to him. 

  He knew that his friend would accept him, since Patton had come out to them in freshman year as Pan to him, Logan, and Virgil, it had lead to Logan coming out to them as gay demisexual, and then a year later in there sophmore Virgil coming out to them as gay. They promised to support each other and never ever tell anyone else. It was like their own little pride group, only Roman was an ally… Or so the others had thought.

       Roman knew that they would accept him. Of all people who knew that he could come out to them, and it was okay. But his heart leapt up into his throat and his knees buckled and the mere thought of it. He could just imagine their judgemental glances, thinking he was only saying it because he wanted to feel included, “you’re not really gay.” He would imagine them saying, “are you doing this for attention?” “if you were gay then why have you been telling us about all your straight crushes for years?” He had made up crushes to stay in the closet “you’re so dramatic! Just shut up and we can forget you even tried to pull off this whole charade.” 

   I part of him knew they would never do that, but it was a very small part of him, it was like a tiny ball of light shining in the darkness of self deprecation that he had created within himself. He pretended to be so confident, he was a great actor ‘but that was the only thing he was great at’ He would say to himself like a father scolding a child for doing something wrong, only the child was priding within himself and the father was a cold old man with no joy and wanted his son to live a dry cold life never thinking higher than an inch of himself. 

“Princey? You okay there?...” he hadn’t noticed that he had started to zone out with another one of his spirals into the dark clouded space that was his mind. ‘No’ he said to himself and only himself. Virgil would think he was such an attention seeking whore if he ever told him anything that went on in his head, “I’m fit as a fiddle Hottopic, sorry I zoned out, I was just thinking about Valerie. Her hair looked so pretty today.” He said with a smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. Valerie was amazing, she was really fun to hang out with and yes her hair actually did look pretty today but to Roman he felt nothing but platonic love for her. And when he would pretend to have a crush on her, especially to one of his best friends….. He felt as though someone was stabbing a knife into his heart, his weak little heart that throbbed at anything and everything. He was so weak he would tell himself. His heart was a bruised and pin pricked as a baby rabbit that got into a fight with a porcupine, and oh how his heart loved to jump and do summersaults like the little rabbit it was in the presence of the emo sitting next to him.   

  But the thing was it hurt so so much worse when he lied to Virgil. Virgil was so caring, he was kind to all of them, and he loved hanging out with him. Virgil was just so funny, and cute, and smart, and handsome, and- he stopped his thoughts, halting them and pushing them as far back into his mind as they would go. It was getting a lot harder to get rid of them lately. Virgil got a sad sort of look in his eyes but Roman didn’t notice, he was to busy gay panicing. “Thats sweet Roman. You two would be cute together ...” Virgil trailed off, sort of spacing out himself as Roman had just a few moments ago. 

  Roman clapped his hands together and stood up with a plastered smile on his face, startling Virgil almost knocking him off the bench that they had been sitting on. They were at the park, just talking. Roman turned toward Virgil and uttered a quick apology before spilling his idea to his monochromatic friend, “We should go get ice cream!!” Virgil chuckled at Roman’s excitement, and blushed under his porcelain foundation, “sure thing, if you promise to stop yelling” Virgil pulled on his hoodie strings, “people are starting to stare.” he said the last part with breathless sort of panicked whisper only loud enough just for Roman to catch it. 

   They spent the rest of the day just walking around town, laughing and enjoying the company of one another. Roman’s little heart jumped into his throat everytime he heard that beautiful laugh of Virgil’s, it was like looking at the sky and letting the sun hit your face. You can’t open your eyes and look directly at it though, because you might go blind at its unending beauty. Even if Virgil didn’t think so, he was the sun, the moon, the stars, and the clouds all bundled up in one amazing person and oh how he shined. 

     He was always there when you needed him and he was the most hard working person Roman knew, even if Virgil ran into days where he couldn’t even speak because of his anxiety disorder Roman thought he was so strong to have even got out of bed on those days. And he made sure to tell Virgil how strong he was everyday, and if Virgil couldn’t find his voice that day. Roman would speak for him to faceless strangers at school who wanted to speak with Virgil, although Logan and Patton would do that as well, it seemed to have affected Virgil more when Roman did it. It made Virgil feel warm and gooey on the inside, feelings that someone with a hard emo persona like his should never let themselves have but he had them and he loved how they made him feel. But he could never feel that about Roman, because Roman would never feel that way about him and that wasn’t something that he could change and that was just the way the world had to fuck him over.

  The universe had made a little emo gay boy who was obsessed with My Chemical Romance and black eyeshadow, fall in love with his straight best friend. What a painful story trope. Only his best friend wasn’t actually straight, a fact that he was oblivious to, and this wasn’t a cheesy romance story this was their lives. Virgil looked down at hits ice cream, enjoying the treat quietly as he listened to Roman gush and rant about Hamilton or whatever musical he had decided to talk about. 

They had arrived at Virgil’s house and said their goodbyes, with halfwitted insults with no venom in the words. It was their usual routine and they were both content with the way their relationship was. But they were just content, both of them wanted more but they would never admit that to themselves or each other. Roman walked home, with everything swirling around in his head and he laughed with a sort of dark emptiness. What a day.

To be continued~ 

OH MY GOSH THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE!!! Idk how much fun it was to read or how many people will actually read it, but I hope at least a few people enjoy it. this first part was out earlier than I had expected! When I get the next part out then I will link it on this part and tag anyone who wants to know when it comes out. I hope you enjoyed~ my friend that pitched me some ideas: @akane-mukami she is amazing and beautiful please go show her some love!

taglist:

@mostpeopleannoyne 

@www-dot-ohshit-dot-com 

@icequeenoriginal

@espepspes 

@rats-this-username-is-taken

Green~~

[echoes-of-realities]

Hi! I read your rant on why glee was so poorly done (I agree completely). I was wondering if you could explain your connection with the characters (specifically Brittany and Santana)? Why do you care so much about characters from a show you don’t really like or agree with? Or why do you continue to write using them? Just curious!

So first, I debated for a long time about this, but eventually decided to just give the really personal and really long answer partially because this is a situation that has popped up again and partially because being a fic writer is very personal, so my answer is going to be really personal anyways. You can’t spend most of your time writing inside the mind of someone else without leaving a bit of yourself behind.

Second, I’m not explaining this situation to get sympathy or anything. It’s just what I’ve been through and what I’m going through again, but the difference is that this time around I’m in a much better place than I was last time. I’m more comfortable with myself and more settled, I’m not letting myself go into a depressive spiral like last year, and I have much healthier coping methods this time around.

And third, this is kinda a contemplation on my mental health now, so I’m mostly going ahead and posting to remind myself of how far I’ve come and since this is my personal blog and I Can lol

So! More below the cut. If the cut doesn’t work on mobile, as it is wont to do, I’m so sorry, Tumblr is barely functional at the best of times so just scroll really fast lmao.

So I got into Glee right in the middle of a really rough time in my life. Late last November we found out that my little sister—who’s still in high school—had an aggressive tumour in her knee, and none of the doctor’s could figure out exactly what it was. She had a biopsy in December though we didn’t get the results until February since they didn’t know what it was, but it showed it there was like a 0.01% of it being cancerous. When it had been MRI’d in October it was the size of a loonie and aggressively growing, but when they removed it the following March it had shrunk to like the size of a pea. They sent that off for testing but there wasn’t enough of a sample to figure it out but they think it might have been a burned out cancerous tumour. And so they removed it and scraped the bone around it, threw some cement in my sister’s knee, and called it a day. Flash forward to two weeks ago, my sister had a cheek up because it’d been a year since the found out about it, and instead of getting the news that everything was fine we instead found out that whatever the fuck it is—because they still don’t know—is back and is now growing above the cement and in an entirely different spot than the first tumour. So now we’re back to the waiting game to figure out what the fuck is going on in my sister’s knee, since the radiologists are still puzzling over her new MRI from this December.

So long story short, my sister is still a certified medical weirdo and I spent the last bit of November 2017 until about February thinking my 16 year-old sister had bone cancer. Needless to say, I was in a really bad place last year and my concentration was shot all to hell. (If you’ve been following me for a while you might remember me explaining why I don’t read or write Hard Angst? This was the depressive spiral I was talking about. This was what I was dealing with and how I discovered that Angsty fic makes my mental health so much worse.)

So that’s what I was dealing with when I got into Glee read: only Brittana lol and flash back a little bit more and I’ll spare you the details of my Epiphany Moment, but I came out as gay to myself, and then came out to my mom in the end of October, so that was still New and Fresh for me. I wanna say I probably started watching Glee again, read: only Brittana scenes lol probably a week after I found out about my sister’s tumour? It was after that but before my finals that semester started, and I literally couldn’t focus or concentrate on anything—because aside from dealing with that, I also lived 1.5 hours away from my family, so my auntie stayed with my sister and my mom so they could all be there for each other, and just because of circumstance I was alone with my thoughts most of the time.

Then I was looking for something to listen to while studying or working on end of term assignments or whatever and I stumbled upon s5’s Valerie. And okay so I’ve Known about Glee since it came out. I watched the pilot but never really got into it, my friend lent me her box set of s1 and I got as far as Terri admitting to her fake pregnancy and went “yep too far for me”, I remember when Cory died because I’m Canadian and he was our Canadian sweetheart, I even remember when Brittana got married because it was all over tumblr and I was at that stage where “I’m invested in gay successes and characters because my cousin is gay and I support gay people and for No Other Reason” lmao. So like, I Knew about Glee, and I Knew about how, uh, let’s say Particular the fandom was over the years. So I watched s5′s Valerie and thought “hey these characters are really cute together and from my Vague Memories I’m pretty sure they’re the show’s lesbian couple?” And I looked it up, saw they were Childhood Friends (that one (1) canon line be damned) to Lovers, which is probably the trope I’m Weakest for lol, and basically just fell down the rabbit hole.

At the beginning of me getting into Glee, it was basically because I had just come out about a month and a bit prior, and I was going through probably the darkest time in my life, and these two characters were about the only thing that was distracting me from my sister’s tumour so I clung to them. I had stopped writing (omg sorry to anyone who followed me from the b99 childhood neighbours au, I think about it being unfinished Constantly and it Haunts me to this day) from about the time we found out about it in November to when the biopsy results came back in the first week of February and we found out that the chances of it being cancerous were like 0.01%. In that time I had been watching Glee again, read: Brittana scenes only lmao and fell in love with the characters themselves beyond “they were distracting me from hard shit,” and so the day we found out the tumour wasn’t cancerous was the day I sat down and found I could finally write again, and I realized I actually had a story in my head, which resulted in you were the choice I made before I knew what the other choices were. So I wrote that and posted it in February this year and got an overwhelmingly positive response to it, past anything I had ever imagined considering the show had ended like 3 years ago lol. 

So I guess what I’m trying to say with all of this rambling is that the characters came into my life at the exact right time in the exact right way. Santana’s coming out storyline was not the exact same as mine, but I was also pretending to be somebody I wasn’t in high school, I understand how terrifying it is to live in a Small Town and worry about someone finding out, my grandma died earlier in 2017 and responded poorly to my cousin coming out years before, so the s6 scenes were so bittersweet to watch. And I don’t know exactly why I fell in love with Brittany, but her own storyline in s2 when she was learning to stand up for herself is something I Know, her incredible patience and understanding and snark is what I aspire to, and the fact that people are Constantly underestimating her and she’s struggled with being seen as good enough is so familiar. And their relationship is so strong and tender despite the continued thrashings it took and I admire that so much—even if most of my admiration comes from fic depictions and not canon (s6 aside) lmao.

So yeah, as cheesy as it sounds, even though I think Glee did some good but overall handled their responsibility to their narrative and their audience Horribly, Brittana as characters and as a relationship were the only thing distracting me from obsessing and panicking and spiralling over my sister’s tumour, their storylines helped me understand my own coming out process a little better, and, probably the biggest thing for me, was that they were what got me back into writing again. So I’m always going to love them so much because they’re complex and real (even if most of that comes from fanon interpretations), but the reason they mean so much to me is because I fell in love with them when everyone else in my life was shitty and completely out of my control.

[gotham-city-tales-blog]

Jerome Imagine: “Retirement Plan”

Prompt: “Can you write an imagine where the reader is pregnant and afraid to tell Jerome because she doesn't want to tie him down and so she starts avoiding him, thinking he wouldn't care” -by Anon

Summary: I kind of strayed buuuuut I’d like to think it’s cute. The reader is pregnant and thinks she has to leave Jerome for obvious reasons but the message is intercepted by Jeremiah who is after Jerome.

M A S T E R L I S T

This is my first shot at writing in like a year so I am very sorry it this is a little rusty ad not my best! and as a disclaimer: any messages about his being “unrealistic” will be deleted. these are characters. and i’m my writing i will manipulate them as please for a story. i understand that maybe my taste isn’t yours but then another writer may be just in your lane. i am a fluffy writer and will never write something with abuse or a horrible ending-life is depressing enough.

SPOILERS: If you don’t know who Jeremiah is you probably don’t want to read this.

Bruce Wayne fought everyday for a better tomorrow in Gotham. Selina fought to empower the systematically powerless. James Gordon wanted a city which was civilized and just. Lee only wanted to help the people. Bullock was bored but fought for his friends.

Even the worst of the worst needed a reason to live. They fought everyday too-just for different things. For The Riddler, he wanted to remain unforgotten, never again in the shadows as Ed Nygma existed. Barbara Kean, to prove her depths of her strength and never be helpless at the mercy of others again. For Penguin, to be love by a kingdom he has created. 

Jerome had one too-not that anyone knew it. 

You’d asked many times, feigning curiosity. But you knew deep down that you just wanted to hear it was you. Unreasonable as it may be, you wanted to be Jerome’s reason. Looking back on it now you knew it was selfish and a childish take on real love. Jerome wasn’t your reason for waking up and living everyday. As he shouldn’t be. You loved him more than anything or anyone, but you fought for yourself. Created your own life, your own path and your own strength. You lived everyday because you owed it to yourself to create a life and a purpose. And now, in your older age, that’s all you ever really wanted for Jerome too-because that’s what you want for the people you love. But you were younger then, naive and a bit egotistical-all normal for someone in their early 20′s. If only you knew what you know now. 

He always said he wasn’t sure what drove him or joked that it was a part of his madness. 

You knew he was lying though.

22 was a tender age. You were working part time at a small food store and spending the other working time in classes. Technically you were an adult. You paid rent by yourself. Filed your taxes and had a savings account. But that didn’t mean you were ready to be a mom.

You missed your period and were irresponsible enough to have spontaneous unprotected sex with your boyfriend. You went to the doctor and they told you that you were indeed pregnant.

When those words fell from the nurse’s lips you were actually excited. You had always wanted children and were in a loving, albeit strange, relationship with someone who thought the world of you. Jerome was the person you wanted to spend your life with and have a family with. But despite your own desires and a year long relationship, you an Jerome never really talked about having a family and kids. It certainly wasn’t the time. 

Jerome was mad. He was insane. He was apathetic and controlling. But with you.. well... he was normal. A normal 24 year old. He’d sneak away to your apartment and bring you flowers that he paid for. He’d watch movies with you and hold your hand. The only trace of insanity were his scars. 

To you it was insanity. But to him it was sanity. 

Jerome loved having a person that remained in his life. He reveled in the continuity of your stability. When he was with the others like him and doing the unspeakable things they did, no one saw Jerome. They saw a villain, a criminal, a killer. You brought a light to his life and a relaxation.

Never before would he just sit own and watch a movie or go to the small park by the water’s edge. Before he was always on the run. Making narrow escapes and looking over his shoulder. When he started seeing you it was usually once a month in passing, quick conversations. Eventually he realized he was excited about seeing you so he started meeting you at the park an then once at your place. That was when he realized you were stupidly trusting.

But he loved you for it. You made him forget about the bad in the world. You made him feel safe and happy, you made him feel at home.

Lately he started feeling even stranger things.

He didn’t want to die during some escapade. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to come home to you and go for walks and fall asleep with you an wake up next to you. He wanted you to be his home.

He didn’t want a kingdom. He wanted you.

But now you were here. 

After a long and frigid walk home from the clinic, you silently heated up a microwave meal. The television was on but it was mute. Everything seemed too loud, too bright. 

Jerome may come home to you more nights than not but that didn’t mean he wanted a baby. You never even talked about marriage as a concept, let alone having children. He was a creature of the night, born out of chaos. There was no place in his life for a child and you knew that meant there would be no place for you.

It was time to release Jerome of this burden before it had a chance to fall on his shoulders. You wouldn’t ask him to give up his nature and livelihood, all he’s ever know, to raise a baby with you. 

You felt trapped. You stared at your keyboard for what felt like seconds but the minutes were passing. How could you say this? How could you write it when you couldn't even say it... 

The keyboard looked as though the letters were in Mandarin. Your fingers were shaking and your mind was numb. Feeling exhausted and exasperated, your breaths were shaky just like your hands. Hovering above the keys, you just couldn’t find the words.

The emotions an desires and wants and fears were all so crystal clear at the forefront of your mind, flooding you with an overwhelming warmth and love but the fears and loneliness were crashing in too. You finally knew what you wanted to say-but there was no real way to say it. 

You still don’t really remember the trip to his then residence, a vacated and foreclosed apartment in the Narrows, just that you felt nothing but a great sadness. The cab ride home is similarly hazy but you remember a deep seeded  relief that cushioned the blow of your feeling of loss. 

The time in between was filled with clumsy venturing and fumbling as you told the cab driver to keep the meter and the engine running. Under a broken rail, through a wedged door and under a tarp, you then climbed to the second floor and walked passed the abandoned domains. Dusty doors and damp carpets lined the halls-Jerome was in 2D, the fourth one down. 

The molding rugs squished beneath your shoes as you quickly ran towards the door, slipped the note under and ran back to the waiting taxi.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Jerome on the other side of the busted door, but Jeremiah.  

After two years of tracking him through his escapades and newspaper clippings alongside some gossip from low level informants, Jeremiah finally found where Jerome was living. He knew he would never be safe as long as Jerome was alive. It didn’t make sense to him that Jerome never came back after him years after their first adult encounter. 

He was sitting quietly on a pile of clothes. There was no furniture aside from a lone chair which seemed as though his weight would make it buckle. So he opted for the cushioning of the ratty clothes and started at just four walls whose siding was peeling and a window which was wedged open. All of the sudden there was a quiet swoosh and a letter slid under the door. No one knocked and nothing followed so Jeremiah stood and went to the letter. It was just a paper folded in three with Jerome’s name.

Curiosity bubbling over, Jeremiah read the letter. 

When he did he nearly fell over. Not only has his horrible brother had a willing girlfriend but... she was pregnant? And Jerome was the father.

Jeremiah had about three hours to process this earth shattering news and plan for when Jerome walked through the door. He used every second of those three hours. He thought about how Jerome must be manipulating you and that the baby must be cursed. Jeremiah sunk deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole thoughts: he wanted to kill you-and your baby. How could you spawn with someone like Jerome? He hated you already. 

He was shaken from his pool of thoughts by a rattling from the fire escape.

Of course Jerome wouldn’t use the door.

Jeremiah slid behind a piece of siding that was separating from the wall and wielded a knife in front of his face. 

Jerome’s criminal experience became apparent in his match against his brother. Within moments of his clumsy entrance through the open window he had spotted his meager twin. It took less than a minute for Jerome to both subdue his brother by bounding him to the rickety chair and take control of the carving knife.

Stepping back from his handy work, Jerome looked at Jeremiah tied to the chair. His has were secured behind him and his legs both bound to the old legs of the chair. “So to what do I owe this pleasure?” Jerome cackled.

“We need to talk.” Jeremiah deadpanned as he pulled at his ties.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Jerome smiled wide and turned with his back facing his brother. “I’ve been busy but planned on taking care of your prying rodent self in the future, but...”

He swiveled around on his heel and peered into Jeremiah’s eyes. “I never would have imagined you’d be stupid enough to walk right in front of my gun-or knife or whatever, you get the picture.” He chuckled. 

“Kill me and your girlfriend is dead.” Jeremiah spat. He may not have been criminally insane but he could be cunning. “Did you really think I’d come here alone? If I don’t walk out of here in 20 minutes one of my men who is sitting on her apartment will take care of her.” He spoke quietly but with conviction, silently thanking the universe for that unexpected bit of leverage. 

Jerome looked at his twin through narrow eyes, “Touch her and I swear I will burn down everything and everyone you’ve ever come into contact with.” He growled.

“I’m not sure what she sees in you,” he sneered. “You’re a complete lunatic, you killed our mother and our father and now you’re going to kill your brother. No wonder she’s leaving you.”

“Your tricks won’t work on me.” Jerome barked in response. “There’s no way you’ve met her, you probably on’t even have anyone at her apartment. Who would work for a geeky little freak like you?” He hollered. 

“It’s true. Read the note,” He nodded toward the pile of clothes, “Over there.” 

Jerome leaped toward the note and scrambled to read what you’d said.

He was unreadable, a solid poker face as he stared at the type written note. You told him you loved him that you didn’t want to take away from his life. You were leaving to give him the freedom he loved. You didn’t want him to hate you. There was so much in only 7 sentences.

He quietly turned toward his brother and ripped up the note. A large smile graced his face as and he sprinkled the note at his face. 

“It will be resolved.” Jerome spoke slowly and surely. 

“Sure,” Jeremiah scoffed, “she’s leaving you Jerome. You’re a psychopath! She wants to protect her baby from you.” He spat. 

Jerome leaped towards his subdued brother and pulled the knife up and to his throat. “Don’t you dare.” He growled lowly. “I love her and will love that baby. I’m the one that keeps her safe! She used to live in the Narrows! Do you know the people that hang around there? I saw her, we used to cross paths before she finally moved uptown!” He was screaming in his brother’s face now. “Men watching her, leering at here! One of them tried to follow her and I pulled him off! I made it go away! I KEPT HER SAFE!”

“By what? Killing people? Killing him? Did you follow her that night? Tell her you were a hero then fuck her in the stairwell-” 

Jerome’s hand clamped around Jeremiah’s throat with such force the chair rocked backwards.

“I didn’t talk to her until three months after that.” Jerome whispered hoarsely, grip still tight on Jeremiah’s neck. “I respect her, she’s strong and kind. That man wanted to hurt her and would have. Maybe I’ve hurt the wrong people, but he was the right one. He was going to hurt her. If not that night, the next.” He released Jeremiah’s throat and leaned back slightly.

“Well fine, he was scum but you’re about to kill your last remaining relative. You know she’d hate you so you won’t tell her. There’s no way she could possibly love you for the real you.” Jeremiah was grasping at straws now, desperate to live, realizing he had pushed the wrong buttons. He may be cunning and manipulative but Jerome was unhinged, his tactics wouldn’t work on such an abstract mind. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Jerome laughed. But it was a genuine laugh. “She does know me, all of me and she sees passed it and believes in my potential and ability-she sees me for who I am.” He leaned back into Jeremiah’s face. “Now,” he paused, “don’t be so rash brother!” Jerome laughed, flicking his knife upward. “I must celebrate! You just delivered the greatest news of my life!” He cackled as he pushed his tied up brother back and onto the floor. “I created a family.” He spoke as he stood over Jeremiah's body. 

“I got a woman who’s making an honest man-I’m sorry, father-,” he winked, “outta me. It’s your dream come true.” 

Jerome knelt down and pulled his brother’s head towards his own but the short tufts of hair that sat atop his skull. “I’m gonna be a better father than anyone. And her? Shes gonna be the best mom, I know it. Shes caring and understanding.” He tightened his grip and his brother winced as Jerome’s hot breaths raped his cheeks. “She can love a psycho like me, and care for me-she’ll be the best damned mom I’ve ever seen. Our mother was a drunken whore who beat us for shits and giggles.” Jerome growled as he dropped the knife and placed both hands around Jeremiah's throat. 

“But [Y/N]? Never.” His grip subconsciously loosened. “She’s light and strong and beautiful and loving. And she wants me.” Just barely gripping Jeremiah's throat he raised his brother’s ear towards his lips, “And that is very lucky for you dear brother,” he whispered closely. 

With no warning Jerome dropped his brother cold onto the floor and stood up. Taking three large, tentative steps back, he folded his arms neatly behind his back. Adorning a large, sinister grin, Jerome spoke carefully, “See, I have a point to prove, therefore you are spared.”

“But make no mistake,” he hissed toward’s the helpless man still tied to a chair, “If you give me a real reason dear brother, I will take you out with no hesitation.” He bowed his head and let the silence sit for a heavy moment. 

Jerome ran out through the busted door this time. Leaping with joy and hollering in the now empty nighttime streets of the Narrows. He left Jeremiah on the floor the chair was crap he’d eventually break free. 

You really never expected him to come back. So when you answered your door all disheveled you really were expecting the pizza guy. 

He wasted no time pulling you in for a kiss and walking you backward. At that moment you didn’t care if he was here to yell at you or only here to throw a fit, you just wanted to feel whole again. You wanted to feel him. 

He pushed the door shut but held you close as he broke the kiss. Holding your hands in one hand, he brushed your cheek with the other. 

“You are my freedom. My escape from insanity.” Jerome breathed. “When I’m with you nothing else matters, please, let me do this with you.” His smile was so wide you couldn’t tell the scars were there. “When I’m with you I’m free of reputation and expectations, I can just exist.”

“Really?” And that was all you could say. Tears welled in your eyes as your stomach finally felt whole again. 

“Really.” He laughed lightly. “You’re my family.” He kissed your forehead as your snaked your arm around his neck.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whispered, looking up at him. “You’re gonna be a dad.” Smiling gently you pecked his lips. 

“Yes, yes I am.” He chuckled. “And you’re gonna be a mom.”

“Well I have a savings account Hon, it’s time we talk about the Joker’s retirement.” You laughed as he swung you off your feet and into his arms. 

“How about I get some guys we do some stuff at a bank...” He drawled on as he dropped you on your couch. “Then you and me, outta Gotham in the night ever to return.” He climbed over you and laid down on top of you. And indescribably warmth spread through your body like when you wake up and before sun rise and the first rays of sun touch your skin during the rise. 

“I like that.” You giggled as he kissed your cheek. 

“Yeah?” He laughed as you pulled him further into your body.

“Yeah.”

[muthary]

Photosyntheticfox’s Questionnaire // PART 2

31. What do they identify as?

Genderfluid.

32. Do they have any allergies?

Nope! Nothing worth noting, except for maybe a plain response to seasonal pollens native to Vesuvia. That fades the longer they spend in Vesuvia though. Side note: they never just sneeze once, and hold their sneezes in. So when they sneeze, it sounds like tiny squeaks and their whole body jumps.

33. Do they have any other medical problems?

Just that they wear glasses! Such light eyes aren’t fit for the Vesuvian sun. They magic themselves better vision most of the time, but they definitely own frames.

34. What about mental health issues?

They show signs of depression, but not much else. It’s light after their revival because a lot of their trauma was forgotten.

35. What’s that personal hygiene regimen like?

Baths in the nighttime, sometimes midday, always with herbs, oils, and salts. They enjoy soaking in hot water and always wash their hair pretty frequently. They do shave and pluck their eyebrows, but usually on days blocked out for general self-care. Their hair takes up a lot of their time because of the braiding, plaiting, and hair jewelry. They brush their teeth and toothbrushes get replaced pretty frequently because of their heavy hand and sort of sharp teeth. They make their own soaps and body oils!

36. Favorite rock or gemstone?

Probably clear quartz for is universal use. Rose quartz as a close second because it’s pretty and helps them calm down.

37. Favorite tree?

Alder!

38. Favorite type of weather?

Quiet, crisp, misty mornings. The quiet sort where the fog is sort of thick and is good to hide in. During that sort of weather, anyone would have a hard time tracking Diorbhail down, since they’ll be the first person out on a day like that. If they could have it their way, there would be whole days like this, and they’d be the only person around for miles.

39. Least favorite type of weather?

Violent snowstorms.

40. What is their favorite season? (remember winter is summer and spring is fall)

They hated getting used to Vesuvian seasons. To keep their head from spinning, they still maintain that their favorite season is autumn, or at least when the weather is more on the cold side than the hot side, when the leaves change color, and when it’s time for Samhain.

41. How many languages could they speak before the memory loss? How many do they currently speak?

For ease, before the memory loss, they could speak “common” (the language everyone in Vesuvia seems to speak), gaeilge, and old norse. Gaeilge is only really spoken by the aos sí these days. After the memory loss, they still speak “common”, and because Asra attempted to reteach them their native languages from old books they had in those languages (as someone who could not understand a lick of any of them), Diorbhail has shaky, but sort of instinctual grasp on those other two languages. They can’t carry a conversation like they used to, but they’ll still use runes.

42. Do they sing or play any instruments?

They have a very soft, tremulous sort of voice that they used to sing old songs from their home country. Poetic Edda and old folk songs are what they’re good at. They’ve got a good voice for lullabies! As for instruments, they play an ocarina and a fiddle. The talent for the ocarina sprouted from the time they spent playing with reed whistles in the forest. 

43. What do they tend to joke about?

Nothing much. Sarcasm tends to rely on other people to work. They do like to tell old folktales and laugh about them because who on Earth thought that putting on a hat backward would keep you from getting taken away by fairies!

44. After a stressful day how do they relax?

A bath, incense, and a nap until they wake up near midnight, get a snack or a drink, and fall right back asleep!

45. Guilty pleasures?

They collect bones-- Animals bones, that is. Sometimes they’ll buy them, sometimes they’ll find in the forest already cleaned, sometimes they’ll visit a rotting corpse until it’s done decomposing and they can clean the bones left behind. Their room holds their collection. They’re used to odd looks whenever it’s somehow brought up, so they don’t ever discuss it with anyone. A bit more acceptable but still something they don’t like sharing: they have stuffed animal parts they keep, like tails and a rabbit paw. For charm reasons. The coyote tail and pelt they have on their person are things they made.

46. idiosyncrasies?

They can wriggle their ears without using their hands or changing their facial expressions! They also seem to be a very disorganized person but in a mess of random stuff, they know where every single thing is, or at least it’s general location. They notice the smallest bug or animal no matter where it is, as if they can hear the little larvae beneath the dirt as they wriggle around. They have a habit of staring, sometimes at people, sometimes at barren corners, and they space out while doing this. Lastly, they’ve got no issue with gore. 

47. How do they act when they first meet someone new? How quickly do they warm up to them?

At first, they’re quiet, observant, and very careful. Since they tend to have impeccable instinct, they’ll decide whether they want to continue talking to someone within the first couple minutes of speaking to them. If they decide they sense something off or annoying about someone, they’ll become terribly passive-aggressive and prickly to drive them off. If they decide someone is worth keeping around, they’ll enjoy friendly conversation, but it’ll take months or a year before they’re comfortable with a hug. Of course, there are outliers, but this is the general pattern they go through. Once they’re close enough to someone, they’re a big proponent of physical affection.

48. In what order would they prioritize Love, fame, money, power, and knowledge?

Knowledge, love, power, money, fame.

49. List four or more things they love to do

Sleep, nature walk/explore, forage in the woods, sculpt, weave, and read.

50. List four or more things they hate to do

Go to crowded places (this includes parties), argue with people, speak or sing in front of a large group of people, or organize themself according to someone else’s standards.

51. List five or more things they have said that sum up who they are

“Julian, you’ve got three seconds to get off your sorry arse before I haul you up myself.”

“I’ve grown real sick and tired of running around for others all the damn time.”

“I’m fine. Stop asking.”

“You can always choose your family.”

“Of course he’s bitter. Who would like coming back as a shriveled, hideous old goat man who’s missing an arm? Although, I suppose it isn’t much different from how he was in life.”

“Keep staring at me like that and I’ll show you how savage I can be.”

52. How do they react to (both verbal and physical) conflict?

Verbal conflict they don’t care for. They’d rather avoid it because it’s always a lot of hot air flying about. Physical conflict they’ll avoid as well, but if they must be involved, they won’t lose. They’re a bundle of brute force and stubbornness.

53. What kind of bad habits to they have?

They mumble to themself when doing everyday things and bite their nails when they’re nervous or just idle.

54. What kind of character faults do they have?

They’re stubborn and unwilling to accept help, especially for things involving their personal life. They’re also self-sacrificial and can be very rude for the sake of ending a conversation immediately, or keeping someone from getting too invested in them. In very specific situations, when they begin to see red, they don’t listen to anyone and may even lash out at anyone who may stand in their way, even if they only intend to bring Diorbhail back down to earth before they can hurt themself.

55. What’s their best trait in their opinion?

That they aren’t dependent on others. This is a misperception of themself though, since they do sometimes need others so they don’t self-destruct.

56. What do they think of their appearance?

They think they’re the most drab thing out there. If you said they were cute, they’d instantly deny and change the subject. They don’t like talking about themself. They also get a little self-conscious about their scars when someone points them out.

57. How do they interact with people in a position of authority?

Very tentatively, but they never show belly. If they deem that this person is a moron and undeserving of their authority, they’ll quickly begin acting defiantly and coldly. They never follow someone’s orders blindly.

58. Who did they look up to as a kid?

A curious fellow named Buile Suibhne. He healed their wounds when they were a child, and taught them to hunt and steal and listen to the trees. 

59. How do they interact with kids?

They're quite motherly! Very patient and playful with children. They’ll tell stories and teach them new things, too, like weaving or writing or natural correspondences.

60. Do they want kids of their own someday?

They worry if they’d make a good parent, but one day they might like a child. Two at the most. They sort of flip flop between daydreaming of a distant future and being convinced they’d ruin their child so they should just die an old, lonely crone.

61. Are they religious? If so what god/goddess or gods/goddesses do they worship?

They’ve interacted personally with the entities they pay their respects too, so yes. A lot of their magic is done with specific correspondences to spirits and gods, and they celebrate sabbats in the name of their corresponding deity. They worship Celtic and Norse gods, and reference them plenty whenever they feel that those gods are near.

62. What do they think the meaning of life is?

Just to exist. There is no ultimate goal to life. It’s just to exist and be a part of nature as you would.

63. What would they want their last words to be?

“We’ll meet each other again. Take care of yourself.”

64. What do they want to do before they die?

Return home to the forest they grew up in.

65. What/how do they want to be remembered for after they die?

A kind friend. A free spirit. Aside from this, they wouldn’t mind being forgotten.

66. How do they express affection?

In small gifts, in taking others needs into account, or in physical affection like hugs and kisses to the cheek or forehead.

67. What do they normally eat for breakfast?

Nothing! But if anything, bread and juice. They like a good croissant in the morning.

68. Do they like spicy food?

Yeah! They put hot sauce over their rice. You couldn’t really get spicy food where they’re from, so Vesuvia really opened their eyes to spice. They’re immune to capsaicin now.

69. Favorite fruit and or vegetable?

Diorbhail’s favorite fruit is a banana! Again, they only got to try one after getting to Vesuvia. Their favorite vegetable is a carrot.

70. Do they like sweets?

Yeah! They’re sorta picky about what sweets they eat, though.

[tonitheloftwing]

Thanks for the tag, Carly! I started off with an OC I’ve had since around last year who recently got pulled up from the dead, Harvey! 

His story is a bit hard to explain, but the best way I can think of describing it is like Rodger Rabbit/Wreck-It-Ralph but with fanfiction? Basically, he’s a dude from a 50 Shades ripoff, he’s pretty rich, a sadist, blah blah blah, and the novel he was in is really popular with a teen audience, so he gets written into a lot of fanfiction. When a character is written into a fanfiction, it’s almost like hiring a character for a kid’s birthday party; they’re still their own person, but have to put on a character for the author and their readers. The real Harvey isn’t some kind of Tumblr sexyman at all; he’s not rich, not outgoing or deep, and not a Christian sadist. He spends most of the time when he’s not working in fanfiction playing video games and eating his stress away from having to pretend he’s someone he’s not, while also kind of being up his own ass about everything since every character he’s ever interacted with has treated him like royalty due to how the author of the original book wrote him. One day, he’s written into a fanfiction where he’s being shipped with a furry alien named Glory from a video game he’s actually played, and over time starts to develop feelings for her, even though she hates anything to do with humans and is seeing an OC of the fanfiction author, Alejandro, another furry alien. But, then Harvey starts seeing Alejandro as well, and learns he heartily enjoys having his organs ripped out by furries. He’s a weird dude. (I can’t make Alejandro or Glory in this picrew since they’re an original species of mine, sorry.) As for how I came up with him... He’s based on a substitute teacher I had and the Barenaked Ladies song Conventioneers. 

Now, let’s move onto people not so weird, Tubman and Eloise, and their daughter Fawn! (from top to bottom) There are the three I’m kind of writing about right now. They’re also Scythe OCs because I’m trash

So, we’ll talk about Tubman first; she’s a scythe that doesn’t really like her job and broke the ninth commandment by having both a spouse and a kid! Other than the one time she broke the rules, she’s a complete doormat, and lets everyone step on her. Her role as a scythe takes a big toll on her, so she’s not always the happiest, and before she started dating Eloise and after she died she really struggled with depression and alcoholism, while refusing to get help. She was also in deep denial about her sexuality for a while because of the ninth commandment and internalized shame, but meeting Eloise and starting to date her helped her a lot with that as well. She doesn’t normally wear earmuffs, but I thought they looked cute on her here, so why not? Eloise isn’t a scythe like her girlfriend, but tries to support her and love her in any way she can. She grew up in the RossShelf region, which was pretty much mental torture for her since anyone could look into her mind at any time and expose her secrets. So, she moved to EastMerica when she turned 18 to study as a Nimbus Agent, then got fired, and moved to MidMerica while also being unsavory, where she met Tubman again. She’s always had a talent for art, and goes to an art college at some point, only to end up doing commissions for a living anyways. She normally doesn’t dress up as fancy as she’s dressed in the picrew, but I like to imagine that these were like... photoshoots? So she dressed up fancy for hers. Maybe her and Tubman have a special date at home afterwards, who knows? Fawn is Tubman and Eloise’s eight year old daughter (well, she starts off being born, but we see her grow up until she’s 8), who they had about ten years into their relationship. Tubman and Eloise are able to pass of their relationship as “just roommates” to everyone around them, since Tubman is closeted and Eloise can straight-pass. So, when they have Fawn, Tubman passes her off as her roommate’s child. Fawn is a very active kid who loves both her moms, and really loves giraffes (her favorite toy is a stuffed giraffe named... Giraffe), and wants to be like Eloise one day, so she draws a lot with crayons. She also isn’t afraid to ask questions, and always wants to learn and is very curious. Once Eloise dies, Fawn is really all that’s holding Tubman together, and vice versa. ( Sorry for so much lore dumping! I’ll tag @thatringboy​ because you had to eat sand and @lettucecartel​ because funni lizards. Also @eatyourdamnpears​ WHITTAKER IS SUCH A CUTIE

it’s them!!! my lovely OCs from my whump series ‘morja and company’!!! i used this adorable picrew :))

in descending order: morja (my whumpee) & his new team of caretakers - brax (they/them), jorah (he/him), cobi (he/him), claudia (she/her), & sarai (she/her) <3<3<3

i had so much fun making them so i’m gonna tag @haro-whumps‘s wonderful characters from their GW series & @whumpthisway‘s sweet huck and stephen, as well as @whumping-every-day‘s lovely ash and callum (and gabriel is she wants!!!) & @stoic-whumpee for eir excellent superhero team (especially doe, omg, THEY!!) :)))) have fun!!!

[hgfstreamchats]

The Grinch

This week, I have no option for inputting audio. I'm sure this was some attempt to streamline the features in only the best of intentions that went horribly awry. Or, they don't know their hands from their asses. either/or AND OF COURSE THE SHINY NEW ALTERNATIVE IS DOWN. Bah. Naturally We could... watch with subtitles? That's no fun. Let me restart and if that doesn't work, we'll fall back on watch2together or one of the other options nobody likes. Hooray! ...Well, I'm livid! There, there. SOMEthing will work. We could try... sharetube?  I've only just heard about that one, not tried it Oh, doesn't seem to work... What did we do between rabbit and kast? I remember we tried a whole slew of options. I mean it seems to sort of half-work but I can't seem to get specific videos Yeah, but none of them seemed to quite work.  There was one that wanted us to download something and I think one that wouldn't play anything Wait. Let me try one more thing. SUCCESS! Fingers crossed, everyone... WOO AHA Oh man The Dragon Prince is so good it IS, I'm not caught up on it though just the first season It just gets better Time to reward ourselves with some well earned this. YES Yes! That 'extended cut' caught my attention I admit Classic. A normal interaction! spoof? let's watch that! I'm sure it would have continued to be perfectly normal had the parents not walked in It was at the top of the list on the video page Oh my god a;sdjfldjfsl At first I thought this was a redub, but THIS one however is my favorite, personally. Wow ASDL;JFDLDSFKJ; *eyebrows* I like the subtlety Likewise! Quick and to the point. Is there another window open? I keep hearing more sounds and someone's voice Better? Hrn no audio at all now THERE we go Wonderful! You know, I think just having snowballs made FOR you misses the point ...So did HE put up all those signs, or did they At least the dog seems happy in this one Man, this song is terrible Much happier than Halloween Max. psh mold spice I like that he took the time to garnish his depression spaghetti. And light candles. gotta take a self care day awwww Hahhaha I think this officially counts as assault Following him around to make his ears bleed Gosh, I wonder why he doesn't like christmas!  It must be because there's something wrong with him and not because they're all very annoying He's within his full rights to defend himself Ewwwww He's fully justified in stabbing at least three of them. If you want to help your mother, sit down and eat your eggs. "Sorry I struck you in the skull at 20 miles per hour." hahahah just visit santa in person, like in that other movie! okay okay the timing of that with 'DECK' the halls was hilarious I admit It was very cute. That is a nice cave though It's nicer than any of the Who homes. spacious, good ventalation, Giant crystals growing out of the bathroom walls. Could use some carpet, but I'm sorry but why does he have a banquet table for 30 people space, so he can make max sit on the opposite end can't risk any semblence of closeness He likes to feel fancy. Look at him, he's having fun awww oh my gosh a little picture of them Oh my god "It's 3000 years old and now it's dead!" That tree was probably like 800 years old lololol But hey!  Who cares, as long as they get to have it dying in the town square for a month And not even that, since it's four days before Christmas. I bet her wish is for her mom to meet someone For the month of January, they find a seven story whale and drop it in the center of town to slowly dehydrate. Ooh a turtle kid's got good taste honey no That's just insult tin injury Hello there, extremely realistic depiction of a panic attack. Yyyup yeah that is something Wait so he used to live here Why is he the only... whatever his species is so lemme get this straight The only one in the area, at least. the entire community is close and tight-knit and involves everyone with everything for the holidays but the completely isolate the orphanage from joining any festivities?? Except him, because... he's an orphan?  Because he's green? Yeah that is fucked Was he the only orphan in the place? Did he just slip off into the mountains and they wrote it off as an acceptable amount of orphans to lose? this revelation is horrifying So he was like... a small child when he went off to live by himself as a hermit he's completely justified in being bitter And Max is his little service dog. oh god I did NOT need to see that How does he get all this stuff, is he rich Does he steal it Probably. Sit. And eat. Your food. She really just lets her daughter do whatever huh And don't put batter down the sink. ...Are they planning to come back that way EAT THE FOOD YOUR MOTHER GIVES YOU. Wait how come their treehouse has electricity I'm sure she works the night shift so her daughter can give away her breakfast. No you don't Did he make the hat just for this occasion? uh the... This very, very specific occasion? So he wants to summon HORNY reindeer ... the MATING call? You're going to get a reindeer charging at you, spike a-flapping. Skifree! TRAP these kids are vicious Did...did they just admit to stealing 16 dollars from her mother's suitcase? I think so oh yeah, THAT'S what's happening, your dog is delivering cakes Uh I like how everything is striped. Aww. awwww, let him have f--actually sausages might have stuff in them that'd poison a dog, so good call there I'm sure he gets plenty of poison-free sausages. He seems infinitely more loved than any of the other Maxes. the audio and video out of sync for anyone else? I'm glad Yeah. oh it stopped? Actually, it seems okay today (The yeah was to Max being more loved) What did they THINK would happen omg omg CUTE I did NOT like the sensual way he grazed his finger along the paint job he SPECIFICALLY MADE a little sidecar for Mx, that's adorable Between this and the reindeer mating call... I like the implication that max can read english Maybe he MAKES all the stuff he has I want a movie about the man with a bird on a leash. I feel like this movie is careening towards her and the grinch getting together oh god please no Absolutey not. Bet you a dollar. nO Figuratively speaking. I *need* to see that dog robbing houses. Oh, he's actually staying outside. somebody's gotta play look-out Why so many stockings, how many people LIVE there Is--is Max in his little drone thing hahahah I love how this is supposed to based on the book but they're barely using any of the prose at all the original prose He totally brought this on himself "It's very drugged." "we'll just skip this house" That was a lot of night shifts' worth of stuff. But ah, well. Yes because I'm certain everyone would just shrug this off like nothing Right? I appreciate that they kept it metaphorical. It's not literal -- it's how experiencing something profound feels. I hope that's not the reindeer mating call horn gussied up oh god "hoo boy, didn't plan this out" "I'm sorry I ruined your Christmas but here's a stampede of urine soaked, sex-starved reindeer.\" AS;LDKJF awwwww now RUN Night I swear to GOD if this goes in the direction of him and the mom hooking up I'm personally blaming YOU for cursing it into existence Hhaahhaha There's no way this wasn't created by an entire crew full of humans who all suffer from crippling anxiety disorders. Hang on, are they ALL furry and he just dyes himself aparently He's the equivalent of a middle aged human wearing flesh toned, skintight pants and absolutely nothing else. and a tie I wasn't goin gto say it don't forget the tie And a tie. That seems like a small roast for all those guests. They have other dishes, though sooooooo Nothing actually solved the mom's problems huh I guess not? Oh, that's where the credits come in. Which...doesn't count, really, but still. oh THERE we go Oh hey! Cute. And they didn't get together! although it wasn't part of the story sooooo well that was certainly a thing Pretty good A fun movie :) It's a very gentle movie. As is this. well I'd love to stay but I've been putting off getting dinner started for too long Enjoy the short/rest of your night, guys! Enjoy your food! Thanks for the stream, Knock Out! Say hi to Breakdown and Impact for me! Of course! WOW, rude! How dare he be mean to Max Unforgiveable! Well, that's all the Grinch content I've got! Max is the best character and the best dog. Without question! Thank you for coming -- I've been looking forward to this one since last year! Hmmm... You know, I have a suggestion for a future movie :) :) :) Shoot! You'd love it!  It's all about racing!  It's called "Turbo". *snicker* It looks horrid. We'll ring in the new year with it! Horridly amazing, I'm sure! Clearly! Anyway--thank you for hosting.  It's been a blast! Glad to hear it! Thank you for coming! Goodnight! Goodnight!

[spkdnailbats]

Hyper-fixations!! (aka- my stan list)

yo so I've realized I always hyper-fixate on characters in media that I either relate to, wish to be like, or draw comfort from.... so bc I'm bored here's some peeps in this category:

•Taako (The Adventure Zone Balance) - want to be like - openly himself, multidimensional, fully realized creation, loved by many, charismatic, in a good and healthy relationship (thats also so supportive and cute and god wheres my gf version of kravitz???), unapologetic, went through some shit and came out different and with issues but is still just good, loves family, passionate

•Angus McDonald (The Adventure Zone Balance) - comfort character - hes just a sweet lil guy who just loves his weird found family and is just so smart and precious and i love him with my whole soul and being, makes me smile whenever he pops up

•Magic Brian (The Adventure Zone Balance) - comfort character - can never fail to make me laugh and smile

•Hurley (The Adventure Zone Balance) - relate to - a small ball of energy, typically a rule follower but likes to stray away sometimes, a gay!!, lowkey likes to race in my jeep (its only with my one friend and its not a legit race but we say it is and its v fun)

•Carey Fangbattle (The Adventure Zone Balance) - relate to / want to be like - tiny but big personality, a gay!!, fiesty, sneaky, tough cookie, loves a tall butch girl (i do not have a tall butch girl to love but maybe someday!!), badass little rogue (i wish)

•Virgil "Anxiety" Sanders (Sanders Sides/Thomas Sanders) - relate to - anxious ball of something, many people consider cute although deny it / dont believe it, self deprecating!!, needs a hug, tries to be intimidating but fails, the mom™ friend

•Lapis Lazuli (Steven Universe) - relate to - felt lost, felt ostracized from friends (sometimes true sometimes not - gee, cognitive distortions are a bitch), found people and felt comfortable and at home with them, found family, self deprecating, separates self to not get hurt, wants to protect but also avoid, sad™

•Peridot (Steven Universe) - comfort character - had genuine growth as a character which is nice to see, is silly but also can be serious, makes me smile whenever i see her

•Howl (Howl’s Moving Castle) - relate to / want to be like - very much himself, overdramatic af (drama queen and a diva), sees the best in people, cares based on personality rather than looks (calls an old lady beautiful bc she has a good heart), a versatile lgbt (looks and acts like a gay but dates a pretty girl, the dream ngl), fashionable af and dyes hair fun colors

•Calcifer (Howl’s Moving Castle) - relate to - sassy little bitch, underappreciated until absolutely needed, small and typically seen as tame but can have a big personality at times

•Sophie Hatter (Howl’s Moving Castle) - relate to / want to be like - the odd one out, seen as ordinary, never the pretty one but always the average or forgettable one, always someone better and not often liked, when liked its always true and based on a beautiful personality, finds real love in an unlikely situation (wheres my love in life?), makes own path and doesnt care what people say/think, ambitious, does what needs to be done even if its hard, comforting maternal presence but also dominant and assertive when needed, gets shit done

•Kiki (Kiki's Delivery Service) - relate to / want to be like - is an outsider but finds her place eventually, inexperienced but trying her best, works hard in all she does, makes something of herself (i hope someday thats me), makes the best out of a bad situation

•Stitch (Lilo & Stitch) - relate to - lost, searching for home and family, feel constantly different from everyone else, runs away from problems before finally solving/fixing them

•Baymax (Big Hero 6) - comfort character - was there for hiro and did whatever possible the whole movie to help him (learning about grieving, sacrificing, etc), and there was a time in my life that I really needed that presence and didn’t have it that way at the time, but now 14 years later I’m in a much better state mentally but baymax still makes me cry bc he reminds me of stuff™, (tbh i got to “meet baymax” at disney when i was 16 and lowkey was so excited and cried a bit, and my friend bought me a stuffed animal baymax that afternoon for my birthday and i sobbed and carried it around in my bag for the rest of the trip)

•Hiro (Big Hero 6) - relate to - ((this is gonna get sad sorry ://)) so like hiro i lost a sibling (however i was much younger than hiro and my sibling was younger than me) in a way that it was inflicted by someone else but was “unintentional/collateral” and i didnt really deal with it for a while until i actually got help and started doing things again to get back into normal life. i sob beginning to end during bh6 bc i feel for hiro and i know what hes going through and what its like and it sucks

•Alice (Alice in Wonderland) - relate to - gets lost in own head a lot, kinda a wonky imagination, doesnt follow own advice (”i give myself very good advice, but i very seldom follow it”), happy doing own thing until lost or lonely which then leads to fear and anxiety, doesnt know who to trust, trying to find something that isnt easily found

•Oswald the Lucky Rabbit (Disney) - relate to - ((please look up oswalds story if you dont know who he is- in brief terms, he was a cartoon walt disney made and abandoned when he made his own studio (c. 1920s) and was replaced by mickey and was forgotten about until 2006)) cast aside, forgotten about, replaced, wants to belong

•Carson Phillips (Struck by Lightning) - want to be like / relate to - snarky and sarcastic bitch, does what he needs to in order to get shit done, a “penetrating personality” (literally a quote from the mf book), ambitious, goals bigger than anyone thinks they should be, makes morally ambiguous decisions to get what he wants

•Veronica Sawyer (Heathers) - relate to / want to be like - got some shitty friends who we dont really like but stick around with for convenience or something, has ambitions in life, stands up for what she believes in and for injustice and is generally a brave badass (i wish i was)

•Heather McNamara (Heathers) - relate to - lost, follows “friends”, tries to fit in with those around, sad™

•Elizabeth Swan (Pirates of the Caribbean) - want to be like - brave, stands up for what she believes in even if it might get her killed, tough (literally the pirate king), does what she wants cause she a bad bitch, tough, literally so pretty??, found true love in an unlikely place at an unlikely time, literally got married while fighting next to her true love vs the undead fish pirated while the ship is stuck in a whirlpool, badass af

•Kurt Hummel (Glee) - want to be like / comfort character - open about who he is, fashionable af, in the actual cutest couple on glee yall can fight me about it, learned to love himself then never stopped, a sassy queen always (i have so many of his mannerisms smh), went from cute twink to muscle boy and wow we love a glow-up, went from being bullied into submission and scared to being open and standing up for others even if he gets hurt, always made me smile, first real lgbt person i saw in the media and helped me embrace myself fully

•Klaus Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy) - relate to - outcast, lotta mental health issues, music lover and bad dancer, headphones always on, bad experiences and trauma formed self, kinda lazy

•Vanya Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy) - relate to - pushed aside, never a priority, taken advantage of, has own skill no one acknowledges, sad™

•Elphaba Thropp (Wicked) - relate to - cast out, different from everyone else, unique in own way, never the pretty one

----------------------------------------------------

and some honorable mentions of real people I connect with comfort and strive to be like in my day to day life (like ive taken on a lot of their mannerisms or sayings):

•Patrick Stump (Fall Out Boy) - literally the sweetest person ever, super talented in so many different ways, so positive and inspirational (esp about mental health)

•Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance, Umbrella Academy) - always accepting of people (esp lgbt!! gay rights!!), multi-dimensional, versatile talents (singer, song writer, artist, comic book writer)

•Mitch Grassi (Pentatonix/Superfruit) - so openly himself, genuine, verbal about mental health (esp anxiety and depression), phenomenal singer, so kind to everyone, unique, fashionable, sassy as hell, lgbt!!, shows dreams can come true

•Chris Colfer (Glee/Author) - super talented (singing, acting, writing), lgbt!!, snarky as hell, super sweet but also super funny, (tbh ive stanned him since like 2012 and hes the only celeb ive ever met and i will always stan that man)

•Hayley Kiyoko (Singer) - lesbian jesus, came out even though she was told it could ruin her career, so truly herself, open about lgbt issues and mental health, positive towards everyone, encourages everyone to open up and be unapologetically themselves

•Eugene Lee Yang (Try Guys) - authentically himself, isn’t afraid of what people thing, does his own thing even if its different and odd to some, lgbt!!, a shady bitch in the best way, has his own style and kills it always

•Daniel Howell (Youtuber) - open about mental health and most recently his past as well as lgbt experience, can make you laugh and cry at the same time somehow, more talented than he thinks he is, shows you can get through anything

[bluebookbadger-blog]

The Price of a Life - Chapter 8

Title: The Price of a Life Fandom (s): Fullmetal Alchemist/Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood Summary: I always thought waking up in another world would be a lot more…interesting. At least slightly exciting and terrifying, but it really wasn’t. It was more of a sudden and underwhelming event, that landed me in the company of fiction and its ignorance to modern physics. I thought it was a dream. Boy was I wrong. Characters: SI/OC, Maes Hughes, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, etc. Rating: PG-13

A/N: I do not own The Velveteen Rabbit, which was written by Margery Williams.

Finally, after a hellishly boring 15 days after the Elrics arrived back in Central and first met Sheska, the day that they figured out what made a Philosopher's stone was here.

I guess the wait wasn't as awful as that, I had gotten to meet Sheska over the past week when I visited Hughes at his office with some lunch from Gracia. Sheska, unlike many of the characters here, looked exactly as she appeared in the show most of the time. Her chestnut brown hair always neat, and her large glasses that precariously slipped down her nose whenever she was reading. I didn't talk to her, as she was busy copying down case records for Hughes, but she seemed to be one who preferred not to be interrupted.

I had also started working back at the Main Street Grocery Store, but Miss. Reich insisted I worked no more than six hours a day, so most of my time was spent babysitting Elicia as her mother prepared for the upcoming celebrations.

I was also a giant ball of nerves. I only had a day or two before shit went down, and I had to either put my plans into action or watch people die. That was a lot of pressure. Not to mention the pent up terror of fucking this up and getting myself killed was eating away at my psych as well.

"Mac, could you pass the peas?" Hughes asked, his words muffled through the mouthful of chicken casserole Gracia had made for dinner. I glared at him, though I was slightly grateful for the distraction.

"Don't call me Mac," I said with a sigh, passing him the peas. I picked at my chicken casserole, thinking about all of the 'lasts' Hughes would have if I screwed up.

"So, how was your day Irish?" Gracia asked, the depressing mood around me growing by the minute and making itself apparent to the family.

"Good, Elicia's very excited for her party." I responded, looking to Hughes. "Did the Elrics find what they were looking for?" He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. He was leaving later to put in some overtime, apparently he still needed to sort out the Tucker paperwork.

"Not sure actually, Mustang put the Major in charge of them. You want to go see them later? They were looking into the notes of an alchemist who worked in the bio-alchemical field. Maybe you would find some of his notes useful."

It was then I realized I had nearly forgotten about my dying mother back in the little village of Ire.

"I don't think so, even if I did have the notes, I'm not medical alchemist." I said, noting Gracia's concern. She didn't know about my 'backstory'. "Hey, do you mind if I go out later?" Hughes gave me a playful smirk.

"It depends on the guy you're meeting." He said, Gracia shooting him a surprised look. I ignored the redness of my cheeks, but couldn't help avoiding Hughes' suspicious hazel gaze.

"I-I'm just going to see a friend, it isn't a date." I affirmed, despite my growing embarrassment. I didn't even know what I was embarrassed about. From the sagely nodding, I wasn't sure Hughes believed me.

"Sure…" He drawled, finishing his cup of coffee. "Well, I'll be off to work. Tell me if there are any boys I need to beat up tomorrow!" I sighed and reluctantly finished my own meal.

"So is that a yes, Mrs. Hughes? Can I go out?" I asked as I washed my plate in the sink. Again the itching terror of lead poisoning found its way to my thoughts, but was quickly pushed back by Gracia.

"Of course, it's not like you've asked before. And don't be so formal, call me Gracia." She had been telling me to call her that ever since Hughes dragged me home with him. "And Irish, take this with you." I looked up from the plate I was drying to see one of Hughes' daggers in her delicate hand.

"I'm not going down town or anything, just a walk in the park." She looked at me like my own mother after I told a lie. They were actually freakishly similar in their mannerisms.

"Maes' idea, not mine." She said as she place the handle of the blade in my hand. It was heavy for me, but well balanced. "One of his soldier friends told him that you were snooping around the park and the East wing of Central Command this past week. He's worried for you."

More accurately, he was worried about me. I knew there were holes in my story and I had no physical proof to back up the existence of Ire or my family in this world. But more than worried about how much Hughes had looked into my situation, I was offended and more importantly, confused. If he didn't trust me or my story, then why arm me instead of sending someone to keep tabs on me? I knew that my evening strolls had been prolonged and odd this past week, but I wasn't in the mood to be cooped up in the apartment all day either.

"Uh, thanks. I guess." I finally said, simple dumbfounded by my own thoughts. Maybe Hughes really was just worried that I was hanging out with some undesirables he had some plan for someone to stalk me. But it still didn't make any damn sense why he'd give me a dagger if he was going to have someone following me.

"Mommy, I'm sleepy…" Elicia whined from the table, rubbing her eyes with a pudgy fist. Her cuteness was almost enough to make me forget the questions burning in my skull. Gracia smiled at her daughter.

"It's bath night tonight."

"Aw, but I don't want to…" I listened to the little girl fruitlessly refuse to take a bath as I left the kitchen and nervously entered my room

. Sitting on my bed, I took a moment to examine the knife. It wasn't exactly long enough to be called a dagger, maybe a push knife at best, though it lacked the characteristic handle. The handle was straight and black, from which the short blade extended only the length of my hand. It was vaguely familiar, but I knew I had never seen Hughes with this knife. Or any knife for that matter.

Not wanting to reflect on the odd dagger, I changed out of my night clothes, which I had worn since that morning, and into something more suitable for roaming the streets of Central at night.

The only pants I had that could be considered as close to 'modern' as possible were a pair of tight riding trousers. They were made from some elastic black fabric, but they still didn't hug my small frame too closely. I threw on an overcoat as I headed out of my room, putting the knife into my belt where the over coat would conceal it. I slipped past Gracia and a very sleepy Elicia and made my way to the front door.

"I'll be back soon," I murmured as I exited the apartment and rushed down the stairs to the beauty of Central's evening rush.

The 'friend' I was meeting was Reginald. He had been filling me in on Amestrian history and government structure. I had to admit, I was learning that the government and military were actually quite different from what I could compare to Nazi-Germany. For one, the Fuhrer, despite his power, had to consult with other military officers and advisers and use their input to make decisions. He still had the power to do whatever the hell he wanted to, but recklessness historically led to the Fuhrer being overthrown.

Currently I was more interested in the present state of the government and the true legal reach of the military, but Reggie insisted we go over the history that led to the current state of affairs before focusing on such. Not that I was complaining, he had an engaging way of explaining monotonous coup d'etats and bloody civil wars. History was one of my stronger suits back home.

"Hey Reginald!" I called as I dodged a pair of guards to catch up with him. I was running late, again. He stopped walking and turned back as I slowed to prevent myself from crashing straight into him. "Sorry, supper ran late."

"It's fine," He said with a small laugh. "So, where did we leave off?" I thought for a moment, trying to recall the last date Reggie had mentioned.

"Um, 1835 I think? Aerugo's War." Reggie nodded, closing his eyes briefly.

"Ah, yes. So, did we go over why Amestris attacked Aerugo?"

"No, I don't think so," I responded as we rounded a corner. Darkness was finally falling and I could clearly see the street in front of me. We were going farther into the city than we usually did on our walk and talk sessions, but I didn't mind.

Apparently it was a war of conquest for Amestris, which at the time was seeking to expand its horizons. A key city was Dublith, which had served as a major base of operations once Amestrian soldiers had overrun the city and wiped out Aerugo's forces that had been using Dublith as a stronghold.

It almost reminded me of the Battle of the Bulge from WWII, except Amestris - the country I was equating to Nazi Germany - ended up winning. We were discussing the strategic advantage Aerugo had over Amestris when Reggie suddenly stopped walking, his face contorted in pain.

"What's wrong?" I asked, worry overcoming me as a thousand scenarios ran through my head. Was he sick? Had he been hurt? He gripped his left arm as if trying to apply pressure to relieve some internal pain. The street was mostly empty, though we probably looked quite strange standing there for a moment of tense silence.

"Nothing, my arm just acts up sometimes," Reggie said curtly as he started walking again. I wasn't convinced. The arm was still in a sling, but it concerned me that he hadn't either gotten it amputated or treated after his encounter with McDougall. We continued my history tutoring, but his obvious distraction concerned me.

"Can I just see your hand? Just to make sure there really is nothing wrong," I suggested, knowing it may have been an awkward question. Reggie shot me a glance over his glasses.

"You're not a doctor," He stated plainly, to which I replied with a shrug.

"Frostbite isn't that uncommon when you live in Drachma, I've cut off too many toes in my day to say I know nothing about frozen limbs." This was only partially true.

My grandfather had to have his foot removed after he spent too long in the cold, wet January snow storm a few years ago. At first we were told just to wait and see, then, in May, gangrenous necrosis set in and he had it amputated. Of course, I was still a kid and I could only barely recall the black, blistered flesh. But Reginald didn't need to know that.

"It's really not that bad-" I gently lifted the hand to my face, and physically felt sick at the sight. It was most definitely gangrenous, the purple-black fingers stiff and cracked. The pain he felt farther up his arm were probably the dead ends of the frozen nerves being recognized.

"When the hell did you last see a doctor for this?" I asked, appalled at his had to back away from me to pull his arm back into its sling. The nerves were clearly dead.

"Not since I was discharged from the hospital-"

"Do you know how to get there from here?" I asked quickly, looking around for any landmarks. There was a small clock tower in the center of the square, but that was all that I could distinguish as the street lamps were lit.

"Yes, but can't this wait until morning? I'm working a shift later." I shook my head.

"Your arm is literally rotting, and if it's infected it could spread to the rest of you. Not to mention how dangerous the necrosis is on its own. The faster your arm comes off, the faster-"

"Who said anything about an amputation?" He asked, as if the proposition was too ludicrous to be considered. I nearly rolled my eyes. Weren't frequently missing limbs the reason for automail to be invented?

"I did. Just now. It's either your arm or your funeral, let's go!"

I sat in the emergency room, flipping through Xerxes' Princess as I nervously awaited some news from the doctor.

At the sight of Reginald's arm, the attending nurse fainted, which, despite how it sounds, was not nearly as funny. The doctor, Dr. Aufbau, agreed with my sentiments that the arm be removed. After a lot of persuasion, and the promise of the best automail on my behalf (though it would most likely end up Winry's problem), Reginald signed the paperwork and was brought into surgery immediately.

The urgency with which Aufbau rushed Reggie into surgery made me worry that the necrosis had spread farther, but he answered none of my questions and told me that I could stay in the waiting room if I wanted. I partially wanted to just go back to the Hughes', but I'd feel bad leaving Reginald here by himself after I was the one who convinced him to come.

The military hospital was vaguely familiar from my own stay. It smelled the same, the lights were the same, and it was deathly quiet in the exception of occasional coughing and clicking heels. The urge to get out of the hellish building returned ten fold. Just as I was getting up, my path to the door was interrupted by the rush of a certain babysitting duo and their charges.

"Out of the way!" Denny exclaimed as he pushed past me with Ed having an unconscious piggyback ride. I waited a while for the four to sort out who was hurt and how banged up Edward was with a nurse before the blonde boy was rushed off to another surgery room. From Maria and Denny, there was a collective sigh.

"What are we going to tell the Major?" Maria asked to no one in particular.

"He won't be too mad, I don't think," I said, trying to console her. Unfortunately, it seemed that I only startled the trio.

"Irish? What are you doing here?" Denny finally asked. I opened my mouth, about to explain Reginald's situation when it occurred to me that I just found that truth awkward.

"What was that all about? Is Eddie okay?" I asked, avoiding the question. I could have just told them that a friend of mine got hurt, but I wanted to focus on the current situation. Judging by the time of day and the condition Ed was in, it could only be the Fifth Laboratory incident.

"Fullmetal got himself into trouble, again," Denny said, taking a seat in one of the waiting room chairs. Maria and I sat on either side of him, aware we were in for a long night.

"That's not surprising, is Alphonse okay?" I asked, concern for the boy increasing as he headed down the hall. Denny and Maria glanced at each other.

"Yes, I think so," Maria said affirmatively, though a hint of doubt could be detected in her tone. I wallowed in the dense silence for a moment before standing up and stretching. I hadn't realized how tense I had been.

"Well, I'm going to go check on him. You should probably call Armstrong and tell him about the situation." I said as I walked down the hallway. I faintly heard a mumble of resignation as the two also got up to find a phone. For a moment I nearly forgot that phones weren't mobile, sending me into a moment of panic that they were going to follow me. Once my unreasonable concern disappeared, I walked quickly, looking down each branching hall for the bulking suit of armor.

It really shouldn't have been too hard to find the kid, but he clearly didn't want to be found. The only thing that gave him away was the faint creak of his joints, which I was able to track down to a dimly lit offshoot of the main hallway. He was sitting on a bench, glaring in front of himself. Or at least I assumed he was, it was hard to tell on a guy without a face. He was so absorbed, he didn't even notice me until I sat next to him.

"You okay?" I asked tentatively, hoping not to greatly alter the future with this conversation. Alphonse turned his head to me, then looked away.

"I'm fine," He said brusquely, his voice more hollow and disembodied than usual. "You should go home Irish, Mrs. Hughes will be worried about you." I sat there for a moment, thinking. I could really tell him anything, and even if I did, he probably wouldn't believe me.

"How old are you Alphonse?" He seemed surprised at my question.

"I'm fourteen," Al said quietly, distracted from his brooding, "Why do you ask?" I gave a shrug, a thought forming into a scheme as the seconds passed.

"There was this story my mother would read to me when I was little, a story about a velveteen rabbit." I looked at him to see if he was listening. From the silent stare the empty armor gave me, I guessed he was.

"When it was new, it wanted nothing more than to be real. The rabbit was told by the Skin Horse, an old toy with its seams torn and only a few tail hairs, that the only way to be real, was to be loved by a child. So, one day, the boy who owned the rabbit found it, and realized that it was one of his favorite toys. The rabbit was taken outside, on adventures, to bed and to dinner. And the boy loved it so much that its fur ran thin and its eyes began to fall out and its seams ripped. And the rabbit believed it was real, even though the real rabbits in the garden teased him and told he was just a toy that could never be real.

"Then the boy got very sick, and once he got better, the rabbit had to burned to keep him from being sick again. So, the rabbit was left with all the other toys the boy had played with to be burned the next morning. A fairy appeared, and told the rabbit that because the boy loved him, and because the rabbit believed it, he was an actual rabbit. And he soon realized this was true, that he had strong hind legs and twitching ears. So the velveteen rabbit left the pile of toys and went into the forest to play with all the other rabbits.

"I think that it didn't matter if the rabbit was real or not, it would be real to the boy who had loved it. I just think that's kind of like life. If you love people, you remind them that they're real, and if you're loved, you realize that you are real too." After finishing my little story, I swallowed anxiously and looked at the clock on the wall. It was well past midnight. "Come on Alphonse, you can come to the Hughes', I'm sure they wouldn't mind." He seemed to be in a stupor, thinking intensely about what I had said."Al?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry, uh, I don't want to impose-"

"Of course you're not! Do you really want to spend the night all alone in some creepy hospital?"

"But, brother-"

"We'll head over as soon as we get word that he's awake. Besides, I, uh, really don't want to walk home alone." I grabbed his gloved hand and 'pulled' him to his feet.

"S-So long as it's okay with Mrs. Hughes…"

Of course, I hadn't actually asked Mrs. Hughes if it would be okay to drag one of the Elrics home with me, but I guessed she wouldn't mind. The apartment was dead silent when we finally arrived.

I had gotten us lost a few times, but Alphonse seemed to know how to get there better than I did so it didn't take us more than an hour to walk the whole way back. We had managed to avoid Major Armstrong and the babysitting duo, but I had left a note with the secretary at the hospital to give to them if they came inquiring about our whereabouts.

I didn't turn on any lights as we entered the apartment, as it was easier for me to find my way around in the darkness of the room. Plopping my bag on the couch, I motioned to my room.

"I'm just going to shower quick before bed, you need anything?" I whispered, hearing Maes' gentle snoring down the hallway.

"I'm fine," Alphonse whispered back, the creaking of his armor a lot louder than our voices.

In my room, I quickly grabbed a nightgown and a change of underclothes before slipping into the bathroom where I began to disrobe. I had a miniature heart attack as the dagger I had forgotten about clattered to the floor with my trousers. For a moment I stood very still, listening to my own heartbeat and the sounds of the building before determining I hadn't woken anyone up.

I went to pick it up, I realized where I had seen it before. It was one of McDougall's daggers. The dagger I had attacked him with. When I saw that my hand was shaking, I took a deep breath and bundled the blade up with my dirty clothes. This was just Maes' way of trying to help me get over myself, somehow.

After soaking in the tub for a few moments to wash away the dirt and stress of the day, I got out and dried myself off. Gracia had bought me my own towel, which was very considerate of her. Standing there in the cool air wrapped only in a pristine white towel I noticed how strange I really was.

My hair was more of a pale blonde than pure white it had appeared to be when I first arrived, and the dark bags under my eyes, though slightly less noticeable, were still one of my more prominent features. My eyes were more of a bloodshot pink than red, though they still contrasted greatly with my pale skin. The bruise that had once been a defining feature of my throat was gone, replaced with porcelain skin, making me almost miss the blemish.

These reflective thoughts were soon banished as a yawn overtook me. I was dog tired. With the bundle of clothes under my arm, I exited the bathroom into the hallway. I was about to head straight for my bedroom when I realized the light in the den was on. I rounded the corner, expecting to see Alphonse writing in his own little notebook, but found him reading mine.

"Alphonse!" I whisper yelled, unceremoniously yanking the book from his hands. "You should never read a girl's diary, that's how you get yourself-"

"How do you know?" I quieted at his borderline, dare I say, angry voice. He genuinely scared me. "How do you know about all that stuff, you weren't there and no one could have told you. How do you know about teacher? And what's this about Mr. Hughes dying? Why is there so much about people you don't even know dying?"

I stared at my feet during his barrage of questions, terror and panic arising in my chest. This could severely alter the timeline, and screw shit up so much I wouldn't be able to tell left from right. I needed to tell him, but also keep him from changing anything.

"If I answer your questions," I took a deep breath before continuing as I sat down on the couch opposite to him. "I need you to promise to not tell anyone, and to not do anything."

"Not do anything? People are going to die and you want me to 'not do anything'?" I flinched at his tone. Alphonse was absolutely infuriated, and for good reason. From his point of view, I could be the one orchestrating the murders.

"Please, just hear me out. If I explain, maybe you'll understand-"

"Understand what?"

"That if you do something a hell of a lot more people are going to die."

"How do you know that?" He growled, his voice raising in volume. If he woke someone up, then I'd really be in hot water and have no choice but to try to limit the casualties.

"I've seen the Gate." I offered defensively, curling in on myself with my knees to my chest and my arms over my head. This was really stressful. "It's what Ed saw when you two tried to transmute your mother," Mentioning the Gate seemed to calm Alphonse down a little bit, or at least make him more reasonable.

"You attempted human transmutation?" He asked softly, his shoulders sagging in surprise. I looked up from my fetal position.

"That's the thing - if you believe me, I'm from somewhere that alchemy isn't even possible." Alphonse cocked his head to the side, confused.

"You mentioned that alchemy wasn't practiced in Ire, but you never said it wasn't possible." I gave a short laugh, the stress and exhaustion I was feeling finally setting into reality.

"Ire doesn't exist, Alphonse, I made it up." I took a breath to relax a little bit before continuing. "I'm from the other side of the Gate, I've never even set foot out of Amestris." Alphonse was quiet for a minute.

"I can't believe it…" I snorted at his response.

"You can't? I'm the one who was ripped through space and time and thrown into some alternate dimension where alchemy and affordable, efficient prosthetics are real."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner? We could have helped you." I shook my head, my eyes cast downward. It had never really occurred to me that they could help me - I was the one trying to save lives here - but at the same time...I had been avoiding thinking about what would happen to me afterwards.

Would I be pulled back through the Gate one day and wake up back in my world? Or would I never go back? The thought made me nauseous.

"They...you wouldn't understand. My plan wasn't to let anyone know about this and keep it quiet as long as possible. Maybe once this is all over I'll tell the others the truth but now, these next few months are what I'm going to be focusing on. I'm focusing on helping you and your brother get your bodes back to normal."

"So, you didn't try to bring someone back?" He asked, completely unfazed by my ramblings.

"Uh, no? Like I said, alchemy doesn't exist. It's a dead science, hasn't been attempted for like, a hundred years. One minute I was in bed, the next I was in the Gate."

"Than how...how do you know all this stuff? Is it like how brother can do alchemy without a structure?" I thought for a moment before nodding.

"Kind of. There's this...thing at the Gate. It calls itself Truth, and it just kind of stuffs your head with knowledge. But I knew all about this...world of your's before. On my side of the Gate, we have this technology that, I guess, sort of lets us catch glimpses of your world. Except most people just think it's some story, like The Velveteen Rabbit and stuff-"

"But I'm real." He said, I realizing I was explaining this as if he was just some fabrication. I violently nodded, affirming his statement.

"Yes, you are very real. But on my side of the Gate, we just have no idea…" We were quiet for a minute, realizing what had been said.

"So, you know that I'm real, right?" I hadn't meant for this to be brought up when Alphonse was having an existential crisis, but beggars can't be choosers.

"I've gotten to the point where I can't tell if I'm real half the time Al, I'm really not the best person to ask." He still needed to talk things over with Edward, but for now I needed to keep him from wallowing in self pity too long. "And don't worry about the deaths, I have a plan. Sort of."

"Sort of? What you wrote sounds like Hughes doesn't have very long." I opened my notebook and moved to sit next to Alphonse so he could see my plans better.

"He doesn't. He has two days from now when you and Edward leave for Dublith with Winry. When he figures out what's going to happen, he will go to the archive room to double check and that's when he'll first be attacked. My plan is to intercept him before he can double check and get him on a train out of the country. So long as he doesn't contact anyone within Amestris, they'll probably leave him alone."

"What's going to happen? Who are they?" Alphonse inquired, looking over my maps and stick figures. I pulled my notebook out of his sight, holding it close to my chest. Literally the one thing I hoped wouldn't go wrong had, and now someone - Alphonse, a main character - knew that I was a treasure trove of knowledge and foresight. I really just wanted to cry, it was too early in the morning for this.

"If I told you, it would interfere with the future, and then all of my knowledge would be null and I wouldn't be able to help anyone. My very presence here might be enough to change huge events, and then I wouldn't be of use to anyone. And now that you know so much…"

I trailed off, trying to find a way to explain this without bringing interdimensional time travel into this. I had already told him too much - about Hughes, where I was from, Truth...An image of Lucha flashed in my mind. Then the waterworks started, and my cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as tears fell from my eyes. Alphonse seemed startled by my sudden crying fest, reaching out tentatively with his gauntleted hand.

"U-um, I'm sorry. I-I won't do anything, or at least I'll try not to." I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to get the tears to stop.

"Exactly how much did you read?" I asked shakily, my voice cracking as I attempted to regain my composure. I still held the leather bound notebook under my arm as I paced in circles around the couch.

I had finished my writing up until the interlude of episode 27. I had titles written out on pages after that, but I had only filled in my plans up until the Interlude Party. Even though it was merely a flashback, it still seemed like a good place to leave off since my memory of the series faded and then resurfaced with the Elrics meeting Father.

Even though that was barely half the series, it still held a lot of information Alphonse could potentially abuse if he saw fit. And considering lives were on the line, I wouldn't put it past the pure hearted boy.

"I just skimmed it at first, but Hughes' death caught my eye and I mostly read that page and studied your maps…" I wanted to know how much of that statement was true, and what he had 'skimmed', but it was pretty hard to detect a lie when speaking with a suit of armor.

"Okay, so you really don't know all that much, maybe a few details here and there on his murder, but I've told you about the Gate, Truth, where I'm from, etc. You cannot tell a soul about any of this, not your brother, not Mustang, not even a fluffy little stray cat. If the people who want Hughes dead catch wind of me, I'm either dead or captured and used against you. And these people play for keeps, they won't hesitate to come after you too." I explained, mostly to myself though I knew Alphonse was listening.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He finally asked as I wandered to the kitchen in search of milk.

I thought for a moment, thinking if there was anything I needed to do or get before the two days were up. I had amassed enough money to buy a train ticket to Ermutixo, the closest train stop to Aerugo, where Hughes would have to travel the last few kilometers to the southern country.

My plan was to convince Hughes that Johann needed his help with his experiments down there. If he didn't buy that, I'd have to resort to telling him that his life was in danger, though that never seemed to go over well in my head.

"Just keep quiet, and just do what you'd do anyways. If something does change, I'll tell you first." I said after I downed a glass of milk. I looked at my notebook tucked under my arm, an idea striking me. Setting down my glass, I shuffled quietly back to the den where Alphonse observed my curious behavior.

"What are you doing?" He asked, but the question was answered as I found what I was looking for on the mantel beside Gracia's collection of knitting needles and pin cushions. A needle and thread.

"I'm going to give this to you, for safe keeping." I said as I threaded the needle with the white string and began to sew the soft outer edge of my notebook shut. "I trust you, Alphonse. If you trust me, you'll keep it closed and not let anyone tamper with it, okay?" I held out the finished book to him, but he didn't move.

"What's in it for you?" He asked, wary of my intentions.

I really just needed someone - or more specifically, somewhere - to keep my notes thus far hidden. And Alphonse just happened to be a perfect candidate - he never took his armor off, and although people climbed in him (how do I not make that sound weird?) throughout the series, it was often depicted as a cramped space with not a lot of room to move around.

And since the only person who'd do that before the Interlude Party, from my memory, would be the snake chimera girl and maybe Mei (though I think she'd have known better then to be snooping around Alphonse's armor) I didn't think the unfinished notebook would be in danger of revealing too much information to anyone with means to alter it.

"I need you to put this in your leg, or foot, or somewhere no one would look. All I gain from this is some security and a little more trust between us. If I can't trust you," I looked at the notebook, with its edges sewn shut in bright white thread.

"Then I can't trust anyone, I need you to keep this safe, and if something happens to me, just, finish reading it. It doesn't have everything I know, but it has enough. And if you do need to change something, make sure the outcome is as similar to my notes as possible. I can't stress the importance of consistency anymore, if something changes, or deviates from this record, then there's a chance the bad guys will win, and you and Eddie won't have a snowball's chance in hell at getting your bodies back to normal."

Alphonse carefully took the notebook from my outstretched hands, as if expecting it to fall apart at his touch. I sighed, happy about...something. Happy, I guess, that someone else knew what was going on and what I was trying to do. Still, I had a nagging feeling this could only come back to bite me in the but. Deciding not to dwell on the negatives of the situation, I changed the subject.

"Alphonse, I need an opinion." I said, stabbing the needle into the arm of the couch and balancing the spool of thread next to it. "If you had the potential to save, say, five condemned criminals or one good man, who would you save?" The suit swiveled its head to look down on me.

"Are you talking about those people in Dublith? The ones you wrote about?" I nodded, pulling my knees to my chest.

"Yeah," I murmured, the thoughts I had written in the notebook resurfacing. "I could stay behind and save Hughes, which could potentially alter the future greatly depending on certain people's reactions. Or I could go to Dublith with you guys, and see if I could save those guys, with little immediate consequence, though later complications would be encountered."

"That is a hard decision," Alphonse interjected, thinking to aloud to himself. "If you don't go to Dublith, those people you wrote about will die, but if you go, Hughes will die."

"It's just that his death is such a major key to the rest of the story unfolding properly, I'm not sure if…" I trailed off, thinking about how easy it was to abandon Nina and Alexander to their fate. I felt guilty that I considered such a thing easy - she was a little girl, and she died when I could have done something about it.

"If you want to sacrifice the lives of those people in Dublith for something that might not be worth it or even avoidable in the end, and something that might kill even more people." Alphonse finished with such finality I almost believed he read my thoughts. My shoulders sank and I ran a hand through my hair.

"I just need to know - what would you do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. We sat quietly for a second that seemed to stretch on forever. The early morning sunlight was just beginning to warm the horizon and drive away the darkness, and the shadows that haunted the living room's corners turned tail to hide in their crevices and caves.

"I'd do what I think is right," Alphonse finally responded, not satisfying my question in the least.

"And what is that?" He looked away from me, his hands clenching the notebook and digging imprints into the cover.

"I don't know," The boy admitted hollowly, his voice echoing slightly inside the armor. Knowing pushing for a more direct answer would be futile, I took note of the first twitches of morning life. The neighbors were loudly getting plates out for breakfast, someone was rushing down the stairs, clearly late for something, and coffee drifted up through the floors to reach the apartment.

"Come on," I said, stretching as I headed for my room, "I'll change quick then we can go check on Eddie and see if he's in better shape." Alphonse perked up, almost having forgotten his injured sibling.

"Oh, yeah!" He exclaimed, to which I shh-ed him. The boy gave a ringing chuckle. "Sorry," I felt a smile tug at my lips, though it fell once I shut my bedroom door. I leaned against it, my forehead against the cold wooden frame.

Save one or save five. My morals told me to go to Dublith and try to prevent the deaths of the chimeras, but my instinct told me to stay and save Hughes, despite the huge risk to the plot involved. I really wished Truth was here, I could use the fluffy little guy.

We arrived back at the hospital long before morning rush hour, the streets quiet and empty at five in the morning. I had just thrown on my outfit from the night before, as it hadn't seen extensive use beyond my eventful evening. And, from what I could tell, Gracia only did laundry every two weeks, which meant I'd often wear clothes multiple times despite my many outfits.

I was a one pair of jeans for a week girl. It kind of sounded gross, but I guessed I was just used to it. We entered the waiting room, where Maria and Denny were sitting half-asleep in two of the seats. However, their stillness did not last long, Maria quickly prodding her partner awake as they approached Alphonse and I.

"Mornin'," I greeted, nodding to the two.

"Ah! Miss. Irish?" The secretary called to me. I glanced at Alphonse before giving a brief nod in the woman's direction.

"I'll be right back," I said walking over to the woman at the counter. She was an older woman, wearing a pleated skirt that graced the tops of her shoes. "Can I help you with something?" The woman motioned to one of the nurses behind the counter.

"Mr. Azir should be awake by now, if you'd like to see him." I blinked in surprise, recalling my reason for being in hell- I mean the hospital to begin with.

"Oh, shit, I can't believe I nearly forgot! Um, what's his room number?" I asked. The secretary seemed amused by my concern. I certainly wasn't, my anxiety was not funny!

"This is Edith, she'll take you to his room," She explained, the nurse from behind the counter giving a small wave as she walked around to lead me through the labyrinth to Reginald's room. I jumped, along with the other 'normal' onlookers as a loud smack resounded through the air, quickly replaced by Denny's muffled squeals of pain. He actually did slap Alphonse. I gave a snort of laughter at his reddened hand before giving a short wave to catch their attention.

"I've got to bounce, see you!" They watched me leave in befuddlement.

"She has to what?" Maria murmured as I headed down the hallways in pursuit of Edith the Nurse. She walked fast for a lady in heels, and I was not just saying that because I tended to wear heavy steel-toed work boots on a daily basis.

We had to walk up three whole flights of stairs before we started to slow down. Truth, I missed elevators. Hell, even an escalator would be appreciable in this 1910s hospital. Edith's feet had to be killing her if this was what she did all day. After we had come to a dead end hallway and I didn't think I could take another step without collapsing, Edith stopped and held the door to a room open.

"Here we are," She announced cheerily. Too cheerily for someone who had clearly taken the night shift and was probably doped up on fourteen coffees and wearing heels. Why were 1910s women so scary?

"Thanks," I mumbled, though my sore feet sent a strain of profanities and references I could make, none of which applied to the situation but still sounded cool in my head.

"Hey, Irish," A tired voice said with a yawn, a figure shifting in the hospital bed to sit up. Reggie was clearly exhausted, making me feel bad about visiting him right after the anesthesia wore off, but I was here and there was no reason to leave.

"Hey, Reginald. How's it going?" I asked, walking over to the bed to get a better look at him. The arm had been amputated a few inches below the shoulder, meaning the necrosis had spread farther than I initially thought. The remaining stump was bundled in sterile dressings, recently changed. He had an oxygen mask over his face, his lack of glasses throwing me off for a moment.

"Not too bad, as far as having your arm amputated over night goes," Reggie gave a weak laugh before sighing and lying back in bed. "How am I going to get anything done like this? Aren't I going to have to quit the military and get a job doing...something one-armed people do?"

"Don't be so pessimistic, some of the best soldiers I know are amputees. And it's not like you can't get automail - like I told you, I know a guy. I'm sure I can work something out." I huffed in defiance. I mean, I guessed losing a limb was pretty...traumatic, but compared to what the Elrics had been through, he had no right to complain.

"I know, I know, I just feel so...useless." He yawned again, his right hand subconsciously reaching to push his missing glasses up. I sighed, sitting on the bed next to him.

"I know the feeling," I said, silent for a moment before remembering what I had grabbed on my way out of the house. "Oh, yeah! I almost forgot, here, I compiled some stuff for you to look over." Taking the separate folder of papers from my bag, I set it down and opened it, displaying the dizzying symbols and notes etched over the paper.

"What…is this?" Reginald asked, skimming through the pages filled with markings and numbers. I pointed at him before dramatically saying,

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," I giggled at his confusion, before deciding to give him a hint. "You told me how much you wanted to work on ciphers and the sort when you advanced through the ranks, so I made you some codes to crack. Mostly silly little things and quotes, but I hope they're still fun to figure out." I pointed to the first line on the page he was examining closely.

"See that note in the left hand corner? It's an equation you can only use to decipher that particular symbol using the Amestrian alphabet, or at least I think that's what you call it here." I said the latter much quieter, not sure if they even called their language 'Amestrian'. Nevertheless, Reggie looked absolutely delighted.

"You came up with all of these on your own?" I shrugged, glancing at the pages.

"My little brothers and I would send secret messages back and forth all the time when we were younger, they aren't that complicated so I didn't give you all of the equations. I'm sure you can figure the rest out, think preteen mathematical skills and toddler artistic abilities." Reginald said nothing, examining the squiggles and dots cryptically before responding with an intelligent 'Hm?' of confusion. I rolled my eyes and shut the folder. "That's to keep you busy while you wait, genius. This is for later."

I set a magazine I had bought from the Main Street Grocery Store (the money subtracted from my paycheck). It contained all of the latest makes and models of automail straight from Rush Valley. I was so excited about getting this guy a new arm, it was almost like shopping for shoes, except more permanent and with less heels.

"Okay, so I did the math, you can start looking at automail models now, I'd say 14 days before you're discharged and can head to Rush Valley to meet up with the guy. All you have to do is say you're a friend of Irish to the perky blonde with him and explain that I'll cover all the costs. Don't you dare say you're paying for this, it is kind of my fault-"

"Why do you keep doing this?" He asked, cutting me off from my ranting. I suddenly felt guilty. It really was my fault for existing that this guy had to deal with a missing arm. Then again, he could be dead. I cocked my head to the side, confused by his question. "Why do you keep forcing these ideas on me? What if I don't want automail?"

I flushed, not knowing why. I had been the one who convinced him to get the arm amputated, even if it was for his own health, and here I was planning out his future. Like a helicopter mom who regiments their child's schedule.

"I'm, I'm sorry, I just...I'm used to things being planned out ahead of time. And when things don't go as planned they just kind of, fall apart for me, I guess." My shoulders sagged and my eyes dropped, my shoes suddenly very interesting. They had cute blue buttons up the sides that glimmered in the light of the hospital room as the morning sun breached the horizon like a burning tree. "You don't have to get the automail if you don't want to - it's not like I have any legal power over you or anything - I just feel like I owe you one, after everything you've done for me." Reggie sighed and shook his head.

"You think too much, Irish." I thought about that for a moment, and realized I was proving his point as I stood there.

"Sorry…"

"Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong!"

"Sorry-"

"Irish!" Reginald exclaimed in good humor, though my cheeks had grown crimson with embarrassment. He liked to tease me too much. "Thanks for the ciphers, and the automail stuff. I really needed this talk-"

"Mac!" An over excited voice cried theatrically from the doorway, startling me. "You didn't tell me your boyfriend was at the hospital! Why'd you beat him up before I could meet him?"

"Hughes! He's not my boyfriend!"

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