killerpillar

[killerpillar]

My husband (ao3) has gone to war (it's down and we don't know why) and I don't know when I will see him again (I don't really know guys 😭😭)

[killerpillar]

This Levi visual... 💚💚💚

[killerpillar]

hummuna hummuna 🤤

[killerpillar]

Little baby 😭

[killerpillar]

We have a little collection now

[killerpillar]

from your dearest historia.

[F/F] [G] yumihisu drabble/oneshot, post-canon, afterlife, fix-it (kind of), fluff, growing old, losing memories, reunited, requited love, undying love.

wc: 1176・ ♫ sailor song - gigi perez ・ read on ao3.

. . . . . .

Historia can’t remember the shade of her eyes anymore.

Whether they were the same hue of earth or a faint, chestnut hazel. 

Whether the sunlight made them glow like gold or umber.

Whether her freckles were something she imagined, or if the memory of lying beside her on a concrete rooftop and tracing constellations across her skin was really real.

Maybe it wasn’t real, and she’s just holding on to nothing and hoping it was something.

Maybe she wasn’t real.

(She had to be real.)

(Right?)

Historia names her daughter after her.

Her husband says he likes it. He thinks it's a beautiful name.

Historia agrees. Tells him she thinks it is, too.

But he doesn’t know anything. 

He doesn’t know just how beautiful that name really is.

(It’s not his fault he doesn’t know.)

(She knows it isn’t.)

(But it still makes her bitter.)

Reiner and Connie come to visit. She lets them hold Ymir. 

They ask for her name, and she tells them.

Their faces change. 

They look at her like they pity her. 

Like there’s an apology waiting on the tip of their tongues.

She hates it. 

She hates that look.

But she pretends not to notice.

Mikasa comes too, later. Jean is with her. There’s a ring on both their fingers.

When Mikasa hears her daughter’s name, she doesn’t give Historia that face. Historia realises it’s probably because she’s the only one that understands. 

There’s something else in her eyes. 

Something familiar.

Mikasa tells her the name is fitting.

She comes by more often now. Alone.

They talk. 

They listen.

There’s things they tell each other that they tell no one else. Things nobody else would understand.

Sometimes Historia cries.

Sometimes Mikasa cries.

Most of the time, they do everything they can not to start.

Their kids get along, too. 

Somewhat.

Her daughter is older now. 

Too rowdy for her to hold on her hip.

Historia can’t remember her face anymore.

It’s only her daughter’s face she sees in her mind when she hears Ymir.

Not her’s.

She still dreams about her, though.

It's always fuzzy like her mind can’t decide on whether her skin was always so tan or if her hair was always so dark.

She can’t remember her voice anymore. 

She just remembers that it was something she used to really like hearing. Her voice would wake her up in the mornings. Tell her goodnight before the lights went out. Whisper to her under the covers after dark. Her voice called Historia’s name in a way nobody else’s ever did. 

Historia wishes she could still hear her voice.

Still see her. 

Touch her. 

Feel her.

But she can’t.

She’s not there.

Her husband doesn’t know how to comfort her.

Why would he?

He didn’t know. 

He doesn’t know.

He’s done nothing wrong.

She has.

Historia’s done a lot wrong.

She must have done everything wrong if she can’t even remember her face or her voice or her touch anymore. All the things she swore she’d never forget. The things that she thought were carved and branded into her bones, from how often she’d think about them, replay them over and over in her mind. The things she’d beg and plead and pray she wouldn’t one day forget.

But maybe she can’t blame herself that much.

Even the skies seem blurry to her, nowadays. 

There’s roses in the yard. 

She can’t see far enough to make them out anymore.

Autumn’s colours are dull.

Spring’s breeze feels stale. 

Summer can’t warm her and winter makes no difference.

Historia’s always cold nowadays. 

She spends nearly all her time in that armchair on the front porch, behind a white picket fence her husband had built, and still the sun doesn’t seem to warm her skin like it used to. 

Her daughter came home to introduce the man she was going to marry yesterday.

Or maybe it was last month.

Or last year.

Or maybe it’s already been a decade.

Historia can’t really remember. 

Soon there’s another child on her lap. 

She thinks he looks like Ymir. 

But not her Ymir. 

… her Ymir?

She wonders who her Ymir was.

She remembers she loved her Ymir. 

Loves.

She loves her Ymir.

Yes. 

Her Ymir with the golden eyes and the sunkissed skin and freckled cheeks.

Her Ymir who wrote her the letter with the faded ink and the words she can no longer make out, but somehow still read.

Her Ymir, who wanted to marry her dear Historia.

Yes.

Historia remembers, now.

She murmurs something about her Ymir.

Her daughter answers. 

Historia can’t understand why it feels so wrong to see her daughter’s face and not her.

… Her?

Who?

Her… someone.

She’s forgotten again.

Forgotten…

Who?

Maybe it was nothing.

Or maybe it was her everything.

She doesn’t know. 

She can’t remember again. 

Historia’s eyes feel heavy.

Everything seems dark

Maybe the sun had set. 

Maybe that's why the lights had all gone out.

Maybe that’s why she can’t feel anything anymore.

Maybe that’s why her fingertips are so numb and cold.

Historia wishes she could see the sun again.

Her sun.

Something featherlight brushes her cheeks. She could’ve mistaken it for the wind, if it hadn’t been for the warmth of the touch.

Historia opens her eyes, and it feels like her first time truly seeing.

She sees colour. 

She sees light.

She can see again. 

It’s golden and beautiful and warm against her skin. She thinks she’s lying on a field of flowers. The grass under her fingertips is soft against her skin. Petals of all the most beautiful colours. The sky is the bluest she remembers it has ever been. 

… She can remember again.

She can breathe with all her lungs again.

She feels young and new again.

She hears a voice call out her name.

For a second, Historia doesn’t understand why her chest grows so tight and why everything seems to fade from around her, just at the sound of it. Why it feels like it’s everything she’s ever wanted to hear. Why there’s heat swelling in her eyes and why everything is going blurry again. 

She turns. 

Amber eyes meet hers. 

Dark hair sways in the wind. 

Freckles like stars pepper her cheeks.

Freckles.

Yes.

Historia remembers now.

How could she ever have forgotten?

Ymir calls her name again.

Historia feels like it's her first time ever hearing her own name.

It was her Ymir. 

Her sun. 

Her lover. 

Her every sin and every happiness. 

Her every mistake and every victory. 

Her Ymir.

Historia takes her hand. 

She tells her Ymir she’s never letting go.

Never again.

Ymir laughs.

Historia’s never heard a sound more beautiful.

She tells her ymir she’s serious and to stop laughing at her, even though Historia wouldn’t mind hearing that laugh on repeat even for aeons.

Ymir manages to stop laughing somehow, smiles, and says she believes her— yes, really, she did.

Tucks a lock of golden hair behind her ears and says she won’t let go of her, either.

Ever again?

Ever again.

.

[killerpillar]

HOW DO U COME UP W ONESHOT TITLES this is such a struggle

i have the biggest yumihisu itch right now its not even funny

[killerpillar]

patronising little fuck

[killerpillar]

i have the biggest yumihisu itch right now its not even funny

[killerpillar]

Me, before posting a chapter on AO3: Wow. This is really good. The syntax, the inner turmoil, the grammar. Impeccable. 10/10

Me as soon as the chapter is live: yeah, no. I deserve to be shot.

[killerpillar]

we're going back to 505......

thank u sm<33 seriously so appreciative of all the comments & kudos and support f&d has had the past two years. can't wait to finally finish writing this fic, it will literally be one of my biggest commitments come to life. this fic is my baby, and im glad so many people are enjoying it as much as i do writing it!!!

[killerpillar]

Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin (Master List)

This post will contain scripts for Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin / 進撃の巨人.

COMPLETED EPISODES

ENG sub/JPN/ROM: Season 1 (1-25), Season 3 (17,18)

STATUS: Ongoing (last updated 2022/10/04)

CLICK HERE for the Google Drive folder with all Attack on Titan transcripts.

Season 1

Episode 01 – English (sub)  |  English + Romaji  |  English + 日本語  |  日本語

Episode 02 – English (sub)  |  English + Romaji  |  English + 日本語  |  日本語

Episode 03 – English (sub)  |  English + Romaji  |  English + 日本語  |  日本語

Episode 04 – English (sub)  |  English + Romaji  |  English + 日本語  |  日本語

Episode 05 – English (sub)  |  English + Romaji  |  English + 日本語  |  日本語

Keep reading

[killerpillar]

Chapter 25: Freedom & Death. || read now on a03.

Captured by the Survey Corps after a do-or-die attempt at escaping the Underground Caverns of Mitras, Azye is forced to make a choice for both herself, and her unconscious companion. And apparently, said choice came complementary with being under the captaincy of one, eternally angry man named Levi. Rated Explicit for Graphic Depictions of Violence and (eventual) Sexual Content.

[E] levi x oc, enemies to lovers, canon compliant, slow burn, uneasy allies, tension, mutual pining, angst & hurt/comfort (wc. 195,992) (ch. 25 / 24 / 23)

heads up: freedom & death ch25 will be posted on sunday 18th, 8am est :)

(which would be tonight for those of us in the southern hemi) the chapter is just over 9.3k, turned out longer than I thought so it took a bit of time to finish up. it's mostly (entirely) hurt/comfort and fluff, and concludes season 1, so i hope you enjoy when it's out!! :)

read latest on ao3.

also-- i apologise for not replying to any comments yet, i'll get to it as soon as the chapter is posted!! been a bit busy this month so i haven't been able to reply yet-- but some of these comments are so sweet guys, tysm😭!!

[killerpillar]

heads up: freedom & death ch25 will be posted on sunday 18th, 8am est :)

(which would be tonight for those of us in the southern hemi) the chapter is just over 9.3k, turned out longer than I thought so it took a bit of time to finish up. it's mostly (entirely) hurt/comfort and fluff, and concludes season 1, so i hope you enjoy when it's out!! :)

read latest on ao3.

also-- i apologise for not replying to any comments yet, i'll get to it as soon as the chapter is posted!! been a bit busy this month so i haven't been able to reply yet-- but some of these comments are so sweet guys, tysm😭!!

[killerpillar]

Lesser-known steps of the writing process:

Finding all the paragraphs where you used some hyper-specific word more than once

Rearranging paragraphs that you swear you wrote in the right order but turned out to be totally backwards

Going for a walk, coming up with the perfect line, and forgetting it as soon as you get home and open your laptop

Creating a separate document where you can dump all of those nice sentences that no longer fit in anywhere

Waking up in a cold sweat because so-and-so was supposed to be barefoot but never actually took his shoes off

[killerpillar]

AoT Olympic shenanigans

Support my work if you like what I do ❤️

[killerpillar]

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.