#drew them in a pool. drew them getting married. drew their appartment and surroundings

[esoraluco]

blue would watch H2O just add water and fantasize about becoming a dolphin while spamt just looks at him concerningly

[nelapanela94]

TW: major character death, widower Levi mourning.

I'm crying rn for writing this. Not proofread

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Like every night before embarking on an expedition, Levi made love to you, so gentle and sweet and slow, holding hands, intertwining fingers, reveling in every inch of your body.

Tired and sweaty, you snuggled against his shoulder, tracing hearts on his chest with you finger; the golden band glinting under the flickering light of the candle.

"Please, stay." He draped his arm over his face, shielding his eyes.

Your smile faltered, and you closed your eyes. "Don't ruin this perfect night, Levi. We already talked about it."

A knot of vines with thorns seized his throat. Arguing with you would lead to a dead end.

"I love you, Y/N." His voice was hoarse as if he was battling against tears.

"I love you too, Levi."

*

During your funeral, Levi couldn't stop glancing around, holding onto a shard of faith that you would enter that room. That it was a joke, the cruelest joke, but you'd be alive.

That never happened.

The urn with your ashes rested on the altar, surrounded by some of your precious belongings. You always said you wanted to be cremated, you didn't want people to remember you lying dull and cold in a coffin. It irked him, even when you seemed to be joking.

It felt surreal. People patting his shoulder, hugging him, saying 'She'll be watching over you', 'she'll live in our hearts.'

He was, but he wasn't there. The chattering floated in the air like a cloud. Heaving, he locked himself in the restroom. He ran his hands down his face and dragged in a sharp breath. Eyes red and glossy, his hands fumbling. He wanted everyone to leave, he wanted to be alone, he didn't want more embraces or condolences.

He wanted you.

That night, upon arriving to his place, your place, the appartment you bought in Trost after getting married, he slammed the door shut behind his back, then slid the latch locked.

He placed the urn on the table and urged to turn the fireplace on, stoking the firewood until it set ablaze.

Wriggling off, his clothes fell to the floor, pooling at his feet. Everything. The tie, the jacket, the white button up shirt, his pants, and briefs, shoes and socks burned in the chimney.

The flames danced in his pupils, staring from his state of emptiness, where he sheltered whenever death haunted him.

His tears vanished with the water, trickling down on his body. He stood there, under the shower, drowning his sobs. The bottle of lavender shampoo, your shampoo, was still on the shelf, and Levi fought the urge to bring it to his nose and inhale.

That would've been like adding salt and lemon to the wound.

He watched as a whirlpool formed around the sinkhole, and disappeared, taking with it his desire to continue living in a world without your smile.

Your room felt so empty, so dead. You were supposed to be here, giggling at his crappy jokes, teasing him, kissing him, loving him. He jammed his fingers in his hair, clenching his eyes shut.

He drew out an old t-shirt and a pair of briefs and slipped them on.

Bright hand painted tulips adorned the urn. He had picked the most colorful one because it reminded him of you. He slouched on the couch, the second bottle of wine half emptied on the coffee table.

"Great, Y/N. Thank you for dying and leaving me alone. You foolish brat, see, this is what you get for playing hero." His sandpapery voice chafing the air. Another swig slammed down his throat. "Don't take it personal, I'm just mad and hurt and lost. What am I supposed to do now, uh? You should have left some instructions."

His eyes stung, his tight grip threatened to break the mug. Wisely, he'd picked the wooden one.

A knock on the door startled him. He dragged himself to the entrance, and took a look through the peephole. The hall was deserted.

He clicked his tongue and turned around, and there it was. A white envelop lying on the wooden floor. He fetched it and his eyes went wide when he read the sender.

Panic surged through his joints, hands quivering as he teared it open. Levi, my sweet darling. Tears fell on the letter, blotching the ink.

Shit!

He wiped his tears with the sleeve.

His heart was thrashing between his chest and back. He leaned against the door, trying to keep his balance, because his legs were on the brink to surrender, and let himself slip to the floor.

Violent puffs of air brushed past his dried lips. He ran a hand through his hair, closed the eyes. What the fuck?

Levi shook his head and unfolded the letter. It was your handwriting, fat and neat.

*

Levi, my sweet darling,

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. If you're reading this it's because, you know, shit I can't even write it down. But I just did what I promised I'd never do: breaking your heart. And I won't ever forgive myself for that.

My love, my heart, my handsome (and humanity's hottest booty) I don't know when my moment will come, and hopefully this letter never reaches your hands, but I have to do this. I have to say goodbye to you properly because I don't know if I'll be lucky to take my last breath in your arms. Though it'd be selfish to you. However, I prefer that than dying alone and scared.

The day before yesterday, I was, as most of the soldiers embarking on their first expedition, a foolish, fearless dreamer who believes they're invincible.

Today, I'm writing this in the infirmary. A dislocated shoulder. I consider myself a lucky one. Levi, I'm fortunate to be back in your arms. I'm grateful to life or fate or whatever force controlling us for granting me another chance to be with you. To hug you, to kiss you, to make love to you (because my honeybun, we were molded for each other)

This is the life I chose and I'm well aware of the consequences. After my first expedition, after facing death and dodge her, I realized how vulnerable we are. At any moment she can't swaddle her veil on us.

Right now, you're here asleep by my side. You should see how adorable you look when you're relaxed, when you take a rest from being humanity's strongest soldier. Just you, Levi. I never thought you'd turn out this clingy. It seems you only fall asleep when I'm with you. (I'm not the slighliest sorry for bragging), but after we got married, your sleeping habits improved, and I'm proud of you.

Do you remember the day you propose? The sun lit up the tulip fields, you so handsome in that suit, and Levi, the ring. I bet you spent at least three paychecks on it. Now I understand why you scrimped on tea back then. It was all formality, you and I know I would've said yes one and a million times. You were so nervous, your hands trembled, but your voice didn't crack.

Then you kissed me, tender and passionate, too drunk in bliss and love we scramble onto the ground. You cursed because you got your suit dirty, and I laughed until it hurt.

It was the sweetest and most romantic dream in the world.

Levi, (I love writing your name as much as I like saying it) again, I'm painfully sorry I died. (Damn, that was hard.) I know you know that already. High chances are you're weeping on the floor, drinking all the wine left at home. You'd better be drinking from a wooden mug rather than a glass. I don't want shards dug in your palm.

Did I have a good ending Levi? Was I brave or did I pee in my pants? Did I do something heroic? If it was embarrassing, please make up a good story.

Levi, I loved you, every single day. From thew moment I first met you I knew it, I knew you and I were meant to be together. I knew you were to become my husband, Levi Ackerman. (Though, I didn't know you were an Ackerman back then)

I don't know for how long we'll be together in the world of living things. I hope that if you ever receive this letter, it'd be when you're hair turns white, and you have wrinkles on your face and thew house is full of grandchildren making noise and getting on your nerves.

But I don't control the strings of destiny.

You've been through a lot, Levi, and I don't understand how life can be so cruel with the most sensitive heart. Yet I have one favor to ask you. Please don't let me be another tragedy. Please, let me be the best thing that ever happened to you. I want to be that. Our time was wonderful and magical, full of laugh and love. YOU are the best thing that ever happened to me.

And Levi, please, cry. Cry until there's no more tears left to shed, until it hurts and your eyes are red and swollen. Do it. Weep and sulk. Then, wipe off the tears and stand up, straighten your back and keep fighting. Keep fighting for you and I. I want the world to share you. Let them. You're too good to waste and they are lucky to have you. Kids look up to you, and people respect you. They put their faith in you. They say great strength comes with great responsibility, ore something like that.

You, my sweetheart, my well loved, my little brave soldier, deserve to be happy. To be full of joy. Open that tea shop you dream of. Take care of you. (Eat well. Don't forget I'll be watching you) That's what I want for you, my sweet pie.

As for me, do whatever you please. Use my ashes to plant a tree or toss them to the sea if you ever get to see it. Or just keep them in our living room. I'll always live in your heart, and it feels a nice place to be.

I loved you, I love you, I'll love you.

I was the luckiest person in the world because I had you, because I was your wife.

Thank you for our life together, the beautiful moments.

I'll see you someday. (Please, not to soon.) Meet me beneath our constellation, my beautiful husband.

Y/N

Sobbing, sniffing, Levi laid there, pathetically, the letter pressed, and crumpling against his chest. Fuck, you thought of everything, even after death. But you were asking for too much. It'd take a long time to staple his heart back together.

Joy? Dreams? He only needed you. They just wrenched you away from him, how will he ever recover?

His lower lip wobble. Stay with me.

His breathing is shallow, his chest is being smashed in an iron press. His leaden eyelids eventually shut down, and the fleeting smell of incense enfolded him.

At least, let me see you in dreams.