#cw: death blood grief

[taiistired]

i need you more than anything

[scatterbrainedbot]

Hello :D

You're so cool

Anyway have you thought that in your rat sons au Splinter might outlive the boys?

You're very cool :D love your stuff dude

(tw for some blood, light gore, implied overdose (kinda??))

hi copper!!! this is a fantastic question!

so obviously typical irl rats have far shorter lifespans than the average irl tortoise. according to google (yes, be awed by my spectacularly in-depth wealth of research) the average pet rat lives between 2-4 years ish, and the oldest on record lived to be about 7. meanwhile, an African spurred tortoise (Splinter's species) averages more around a 50ish year lifespan in captivity, tho is suspected to possibly exceed 75 or more in the wild.

Now, the mutation does give us a lot of wiggle room for playing with these numbers. For the rat sons boys, id say their natural lifespan probably clocks in at about 45-55 years old? definitely not old by human standards, but not young young either. (though, its also important to note that the boys were exposed to the mutagen just days after being born.)

For Splinter, meanwhile, aging is slightly more complicated. He lived the vast majority of his life as a regular normal African spurred tortoise (well, non-mutated at least. there were perhaps some shenanigans of a more mystical variety going on before he was mutated, but thats a separate matter) He was about 70ish i think? when the boys were born and they were all exposed to the mutagen. so he is already distinctly an old man turtle papa. id guess he'd probably still have another eh lets say 25-30 years after his mutation. he could probably push it a little farther even with some mystic nonsense, but when push comes to shove id say his 'natural' post-mutation lifespan would put his death like a solid decade or two before his sons.

of course, the tricky part of the matter is that theres no way for Splinter to know any of this. theres no way for him to know how the mutation affected them all, or if it even affected them all in the same way. especially since the boys dont show many physical signs of mutation for the first few years, and just kinda look like normal rats, (albeit with a more human sort of intelligence) — what sort of health standard do you hold them to? what if they simply dont show external signs of sickness or old age anymore? how do you actually know if something is wrong?

for a while there Splinter is very worried that one of his babies will just essentially reach the end of their normal rat lifespan, fall and not get up again.

so mostly, he just tries to live in the moment, enjoying whatever time he does have with his little ones, taking each day as a gift <3

still,

that fear

never

really

goes

away.....

[actaghead]

vash volume 10, I made this too so might as well post it

[just-wrting]

Not Leaving Again

Title: Not Leaving Again

Pairing: Portgas D Ace x Reader

Warnings: This deals with grief, depression, death, and whether or not one wants to die. It’s an angsty piece with a slightly happy ending.

Word Count: 1,519

Master List

Summary: After what feels like too long, you get to see your boyfriend. The circumstances could be better and he’s devastated knowing this.

A/N: This is more of a personal piece than it is anything else. I wanted to write angst and this was the idea. If you can’t handle the topics, do not read this. I’d rather people be happy than read my sad stuff.

It doesn't hurt. Well, it doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

The hug he has you in is crushing the air from your lungs, but you don't care. You've probably missed him more than he's missed you, though you have no proof for that. You've been super busy, but even so, you haven't had a reason to visit.

"You shouldn't be here," he stresses as he cups your face.

You raise an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you didn't want to see me, Ace."

He frowns. "You know that's not it. I missed you so much, I just shouldn't be seeing you like this."

You pull on your bloodstained clothes. "To be fair it's not my blood."

"That's what you said last time."

You lean in and give him a kiss. "Are you going to stand there looking sad, or are we going to catch up?"

Reluctantly, he laces your fingers with his. You know why he's sad. There's just nothing you can do about it. Sure, you feel terrible that he's sad because of you, but the worst part has yet to come. For a moment, you want to pretend it's not happening.

"So what have you been doing since I saw you?" Ace asks. "Sorry I haven't been paying much attention."

You give his hand a squeeze. "It's okay, I know you've got others you like to focus on too. I've been super busy. Being a pirate isn't easy, but I don't think I'll ever regret it. I wouldn't have met you otherwise."

Ace gives a weak smile. "You couldn't beat me in a fight, but you sure looked cute trying."

"The goal was never to beat you, it was to just not die. I did a pretty good job in that fight, if I do say so myself."

His smile fades. "Yeah, you were still able to hold your own."

"You're still ranked as my hardest fight. Though I did just recently face one of those guys from the Worst Generation. Gave me a wicked scar, but I managed to get out of it."

He stops walking. "Show me."

You give a slight frown. "Nothing can be done about it now, so I don't know why you want to see it."

"Please," he begs. "I don't want to see you get hurt ever again."

You oblige, peeling off the stiff clothes. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Ace has seen you naked and the beach is empty. That doesn't stop you from being a bit nervous. You know it's because you've got more scars compared to last time, and some of them the injuries he gave you left marks.

“I’m glad it wasn’t Luffy, I don’t think I’d have the heart to fight him knowing he’s your brother. That and he’s making quite the name for himself now.”

“Yeah, he’s doing great.”

Ace gently traces each new scar, like he's memorized the placement of all the old ones. Even though his touch is surprisingly warm, you still shiver. It's not like you don't like his touch, you're just a bit surprised.

"See? Even the one from the last time you saw me has healed nicely. You can barely see it."

He pauses as he traces one on your abdomen. "Where's the one from this time?"

You can't meet his eyes. Avoiding the question will just upset him, you're just not ready to talk about it.

"Ace," you pause. "I don't want to talk about it just yet. We have plenty of time."

"There shouldn't be any time. I don't like this."

There's tears in his eyes, and your heart breaks a little. It's not good hiding it from him, you just don't want to hurt him more than he already is. It's unavoidable.

"I promise I'll tell you in just a bit, but can't we just for a moment pretend that everything is fine and the way we want it to be?"

Now you're cradling his face, trying to hold back your tears. Of course he wants to know, it's the first thing he asked you last time too. It gets harder and harder to leave him every time you're together again.

"It won't ever be that way. You know this, it just hurts when you drag it out," Ace cries. "Please stop doing this."

What little resolve you have cracks. Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you grab Ace's hand. With shaking hands, you bring it up to your forehead, brushing stray hairs away from it.

It doesn't hurt. Not anymore. Not as he traces the wound with shaking fingers, dried blood crumbling from your head.

"There won't be a next a time Ace. I can't leave here. I can't leave you."

You place a hand on his chest, tracing the lines left by his death. You haven't been the same since he died. You've been worse since your first near death experience.

You woke up on a white sandy beach, looking up at Ace. He was sobbing over you, cradling your head to his chest. Despite knowing you shouldn't be seeing him, you felt at peace. Knowing what was waiting for you was a relief, so every single battle was fought relentlessly.

Now you'd never gone looking for a way to see him. You'd only ended up here three times before this. Even on those days you woke up and just missed him, you never tried to see him.

"How did it happen?" He pulls you closer. "What happened?"

“I just wasn’t strong enough this time. I got ambushed and had a choice, either join them or die.”

For a spirit, he’s so warm. You were shocked the first time you woke up here. Ace was solid, warm, and felt so real. It felt like a dream. Once you found out the truth, you didn’t know how to feel. It was such a struggle knowing that all it took to meet him was to follow him.

“I just-” he tries to say.

You sit down and pull him to you. He can’t stop crying, so you lean him into you and pat his head. It doesn’t bother you that he’s so emotional over it, better him than you. After all, it doesn’t quite feel real yet. When it does, you’ll have to depend on him.

“It’s okay, I understand. It’s not an easy thing to deal with. I cried for hours when I found out you died.”

Ace just cries. You hold him the whole time, not stopping your gentle rubbing on his back. It’s difficult to recall a time besides Ace’s death that you were inconsolable. You never really knew your parents so it wouldn’t be when they died.

After what must be hours, he stops crying, his body now shaking with hiccups. You haven’t stopped telling him that’s everything is okay, even if it might not be.

“I just didn’t want you to die. I missed you, but it hurts to see you knowing that you’re dead,” he mumbles into your chest. “How am I supposed to deal with that? What am I supposed to feel when I look at you?”

“Well every time I’ve gotten to see you, I think about how lucky I am to be able to see you and know you. It’s not all bad, at least we’re together even when we’re dead.”

You fall backwards into the sand, pulling him down with you. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you stretch out in the sun. You’d like to make the most out of the situation.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

You sigh. “But it was inevitable. We were pirates, it was bound to happen. Maybe we’ll get a second chance and find each other again in a happier place.”

“You think so?”

“I hope so. I’ll do my best to find you in every life, Ace. You managed to find me here, so why wouldn’t we be able to find each other again?”

Ace doesn’t say anything, just buries his head further into your chest. You can tell he’s tired, but you don’t know if it’s even possible to sleep. Instead of asking, you just start talking.

“I managed to see a lot of cool things though. My crew hated that insisted on stopping at every single restaurant and buy the most expensive meat on the menu, but some of it was amazing! If I could’ve brought it with me, I would’ve. There was an amazing savory and spicy steak that paired really well with a sweet wine and the whole time I kept thinking of you.”

You have no idea if he’s even paying attention to your yapping, but you don’t mind. There was so much that you did because you wanted to do things he liked, so you might as well tell him while you’ve got the time.

Your mouth doesn’t get dry, and the sun doesn’t set. The only sounds you can hear are the gentle crashing of the waves and your own voice. As weird as it sounds, you think you finally feel at peace.

[galehive]

this is one of my favorite short films and the kind of content aware scale thing that they do with her face in this moment is just. obscenely, grievously effective to me

[cerealbishh]

"Live..."

[westerosiladies]

Love no one but your children. On that front a mother has no choice.

[stickynotelovers-art]

My brain thinking of the boys ever having to explain why Cass isn't coming home from a mission (my angst brain won't leave me in peace ;-;)

LISTEN.

I am planning to make angst, but I don't have it ready yet and then you throw this my way? I started drawing almost immediately with a vague idea of a scenario and it escalated very quickly!

I actually hurt my own feelings with this, but first I want share my brain's process on trying to figure this out.

First off I had to think of who's alive/dead in this concept and Casey Jr.'s age range.

Raph is dead

Donnie is alive

Casey Jr. is old enough to remember his mom

Next, and what has a bigger impact, is Cassandra's mindset. They're all trying to survive the apocalypse and unfortunately that means a lot of unavoidable death.

Cassandra, while a being of chaos all on her own, is also extremely practical in her way of thinking. She could of easily taken over the world with her brownie business if she decided she had wanted to spend the rest of her life doing that.

Therefore, she would very openly make sure her son is aware of what type of world they live in. Death is an inevitable thing that she doesn't shy away from making certain Casey Jr. understands this.

I'm thinking that Cassandra is probably Casey's first real experience with the death of someone close. I know in my little nerdy heart that Cassandra made Leo, as designated surrogate Dad (decreed by baby Casey), promise he would not sugarcoat telling her son that she died and she would do the same for Leo.

Now, on to the actual scenario. I will say that I don't know how she died just that Leo discovers her and tries to save her.

WARNINGS FOR BLOOD AND EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

[where-our-stories-start]

1x01 vs 1x06

[victoriousfidelity]

@willedstubborn said: "People like us don't get to decide when we're done." for the damaged sentence starters. | accepting.

Norns, how many times had she longed for rest? Memories of the cave resurface: her body aching, her mind reeling, her heart broken. Time had lost all meaning as she stood her thankless vigil, there in the dark with only her tormented husband for company, one son's blood clinging to their skin.

So many years have passed since then, and though she has been reunited with those she lost - their story is cyclical, after all - the scars still remain. The venom-burned flesh of her arms and hands is as much a reminder of it all as the shadows in her heart.

Even now, there are days when she wishes for an end to it all.

"That is... More true than I wish it to be." Sigyn replies to her fellow Goddess in a murmur, her gaze somewhere in the distance.

[panicsimss]

gone

beginning / previous / next

[imembarressedsohere]

Katniss and Rue Edit.

[eliklin]

♡La Fleur qui Sanguine♡

(Original)

Hiii! Im new here hehe, hope you'll like my short story!!

Warnings: Mentions of death and blood, kidnapping and dark romance

A love of lost and found of a boy who never knew where he was bound,

For all his life, he had been alone, No warmth or love to call his own.

But then he met a boy,

so fair and bright, He admired the boy for who he was,

instantly,

his heart took flight, as he fell deeply in the pit of his heart, His heart beat for him,

a love so pure and joy.

like a light in the darkness, filling his hollow soul with feelings unmentionable.

But sadly, his love was not returned,

For the boy's heart beat for someone else, So his heart only broke,

like glass that shattered and burned.

In a rage of passion, he stole the one he held dear, a captive in a cage of gold, but a cage nonetheless.

And though his love was sincere, the light he once held,

it was gone like a withered flower, and he was left in the darkness, with nothing left to hold.

For the boy he loved was only a corpse, Locked in a cage,

with no escape,

His legs in defeat and his heart didn't beat,

For in a pool of blood, he lay in defeat.

But his love still soared,

a bird of fire, a flame of desire, and so he was content,

in the cage of his heart's desire.

For in the end,

all he had left was the memory of his love,

all that was left was a sorrow's lament,

locked in the cage that he built,

he slept eternally adorned with lily's throne.....

[ash-isnt-writing]

<#> Untimely Demise <#>

Character(s) used/Mentioned: Christian Ramirez

Author’s note: the boi!! i might make this a series if people like it. idk. not that anyone reads this stuff.

STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY. I WILL TRY TO TAG EVERYTHING THAT I CAN IN TERMS OF CONTENT WARNINGS. I DO NOT TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR IGNORANCE OF THIS WARNING.

»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«

Christian remembered it like it was yesterday. The way he’d felt when he’d been handed his scythe for the first time, when he was 19, feeling so uncertain after signing himself away for a job he wasn’t even fucking sure he wanted to uptake.

He wished he could go back. He wished he’d known how to say no, back then. The things he saw, every single day. The blood. The grief. The tears. No amount of money was worth the sheer trauma this job produced for someone so young.

It wasn’t easy, guiding souls through the Midnight. The shit that resided in there… it was what made most reapers quit, in the past. He wasn’t even sure if there were any other reapers left aside from himself. Not that he wanted to talk to any of them anyway.

The hardest was the walk to Limbo. All those children…. God. It hurt.

He found, though, that old age was the easiest deaths to handle. It sounded a little morbid, of course, but it was the truth. There was no struggle, no denial of death. He didn’t have to get cursed out, or insulted. If anything, they always seemed blissfully peaceful.

They also always had the best stories to tell. It made the Midnight more bearable. All of the souls that got tricked and bought out were stored there. Having a distraction made it easier to ignore, and in turn, easier to navigate.

Sometimes he wished, though, that he could save those souls. Return them to their rightful hosts. But he couldn’t. Not with the Guardians watching.

He couldn’t risk one of them telling his father. Even though he knew they would probably agree… he wasn’t a gambling man.

He was drawn from his thoughts and back into reality at a hand on his shoulder, looking up to meet the eyes of a concerned passerby.

“Hey,” they said, “are you alright? You’ve just sort of been sitting there for a while now.”

“Ah.. yeah, i’m fine” He responded with a meek smile. He’d gotten so lost in memory he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t down there anymore. Although he didn’t doubt that if he were to return it would be no different. “Thank you, though. Just get lost in thought sometimes, y’know?”

“Oh, all too well” They chuckled. “Anyway, i’m in kind of a hurry, i’ve gotta go. Hope you have a good day, though!”

Chris nodded as they walked away, letting out a heavy sigh. He always forgot his scythe was cloaked. He swore some people could almost see through it, sometimes.

Picking up the heavy, bladed staff, he got to his feet, and continued on his way. He was gonna be late, at this rate.

»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«

[theferricfox]

[[A/N: it's another fic inspired by a convo on Discord: Levi dies AU. Full on angst; there's no happiness here.

Content warnings: death, blood, grief, alcohol consumption

ME WITHOUT YOU

Erwin stood in a small huddle of soldiers, overlooking maps. Based on the speed they’d been traveling for the last few hours and, given the relatively few Titan spottings since leaving the Walls, they were on track to make their target; a small grouping of tall trees as yet unexplored and uncharted, by mid-afternoon. It was good news. If they could map out the size of that forest, seen only from a distance on previous expeditions, it could potentially give them a huge advantage. A whisper in the back of Erwin’s mind told him that he was getting closer to the truth with this small step.

He was so engrossed in the conversation and planning that he only hardly registered that Levi hadn’t joined the group yet. He knew that there had been a Titan sighting in that area of the formation; it was entirely possible that his squad was still working on eliminating the threat.

Route decided and everyone in agreement, the huddle broke and Erwin ordered a halt until the remaining soldiers could be accounted for.

He walked to his horse and took a sip from his canteen. Something in his chest felt off. Levi should be back by now, shouldn’t he? Surely his squad wouldn’t take so long to dispatch a few Titans, even if abnormals had been among them. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud call and the thundering of horse hoofs.

“Commander!” came the shout, and he turned to see Gunther racing towards him. “It’s Captain Levi, Sir!”

Erwin was on his horse in seconds, ordering Hange to keep everyone in place until his return. He followed Gunther back the way he came.

“I’m sorry, Sir!” Gunther called as the wind whipped their faces. “The Captain’s wire got grabbed mid-flight by an abnormal. It slammed him into the ground. He’s got a really bad head wound and probably internal bleeding. He keeps asking for you, Sir.”

Erwin tried not to let the fear that was threatening to liquefy his heart show on his face. In his head, he begged his horse to gain just a little more speed.

“Are medics on site already?” he asked, hoping that the trembling in his voice could be attributed to the pace of their riding.

“Yes, Sir.” Gunther leveled a grave look in his direction, which Erwin did his best not to look directly into. “They don’t think he’ll make it.”

Erwin didn’t respond. He grit his teeth as he spotted a cluster of people and horses slide into view in front of him and he urged his horse onward. Just a little faster.

Coming up on the cluster of people, Erwin could see Levi’s squad standing together, in various stages of hugging each other and holding back tears. Miche loomed over the medics, who knelt on the ground around a crumpled body. He could already tell there was too much blood.

His horse had barely trotted to a stop before Erwin leapt off and jogged the rest of the way. Miche turned to him, a deep frown on his face. He placed a hand on Erwin’s shoulder, halting him for the barest of moments.

“We took down the abnormal. Levi was the only one it got.”

Erwin fixed him with a stare that he knew betrayed his fear. He couldn’t hide it anyway, not from his best friend.

“He doesn’t have long, Erwin. I’ll get people out of the way, leave you two to it.”

Erwin managed a whispered ‘thanks’ before breaking through the group of medics and kneeling by Levi’s broken form. He held out his arms and the medic holding the man passed him over, their entire lower body soaked red when they pulled away. Erwin distantly heard Miche order everyone to form a perimeter around the area and give some space.

Erwin could hardly breathe as he stared down at Levi. It was clear that he had suffered a skull fracture, and blood coated his face. Every quivering breath that Levi took caused a sickening crunch of shattered bones that Erwin felt under his fingertips. His mouth hung open, teeth crimson, wheezing bubbles gurgling past his lips. Blood freely flowed from his nose. Erwin felt nauseated, the sting of loss already seizing his heart as he bent down to whisper to the man dying in his arms.

“Levi?” He was afraid of saying it too loud, as though death would hear him and snatch him away more quickly.

“E-er-e-” came the reply as Levi struggled for air.

“Ssshh,” Erwin stroked a hand through sticky hair. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“I-I’m sssso-sorry,” Levi gasped. His chest heaved and ragged coughs tore through him, spraying blood on Erwin’s chest.

“Don’t try to talk,” Erwin urged. His free hand moved from Levi’s hair to grab a limp hand laying in the grass. “Just stay with me a little longer, okay?”

Erwin squeezed the hand he had wrapped in his own, but he didn’t feel a response. Levi fixed him with a stare, drifting as the light fell from them. Erwin though he saw tears mix into the blood on the man’s face. Levi’s mouth moved without sound, and with a final cough, he was gone.

***

Levi’s funeral was meant to be small and private, but the news of the death of Humanity’s Strongest drew people from the smallest villages all the way to the capitol to observe the procession and service. Newspapers throughout the cities questioned how much hope Humanity had of regaining territory if even Captain Levi could not avoid death at the hands of Titans.

Some argued that Erwin should resign, saying that it was the recklessness of the Long Distance Scouting Formation that killed a man who could otherwise have been protected by others had the ranks been tighter. Dozens of soldiers transferred to the Garrison or left the military altogether. The Special Operations Squad was handed over to Miche, who initially offered them a leave of absence but ultimately, per their insistence, drilled them harder than they had in months on the training grounds. The whole squad seemed determined to sweat away their grief.

Erwin stayed in his office for days after the funeral. Officially, he was signing death notices, coordinating with squad leaders to deliver said notices, and reading and writing reports from the expedition. Unofficially, he was drinking a half bottle of scotch every night. He struggled to fall asleep at night and struggled to find the will to wake up in the morning.

Miche brought him food, but it wasn’t until his normally quiet friend scolded him for ignoring his last three meals that he ate anything. Even then, it was a struggle to keep it down. Miche asked him one morning, as he supervised Erwin eating breakfast and drinking a cup of coffee, if he wanted to talk about Levi’s death. The only reply he received was the slamming of the bathroom door and the sound of retching.

Erwin lost count of how many days he’d been in his office. Something in the back of his mind said it was two weeks, but the concept of time had been lost to him. He sat at the window, staring out over the training grounds. The Special Operations Squad was training again, and Ouro skidded to a stop in the grass and sank to his knees. It was quick to see he was crying. He was followed quickly by Petra and then Eld and Gunther, the four of them huddled together. Erwin couldn’t hear their wails, but the shaking of their bodies told him enough. He finished his third glass of scotch for the day.

A knock brought him hazily back into his office and he grunted to allow entry. Hange carefully opened the door and peered in. They quickly entered and shut the door behind them. Hange crossed the distance to where Erwin sat and looked at the emptied glass in his hand. They snatched the glass and the bottle of scotch and opened the window and tossed them out. Erwin could only watch with a distant apathy that he couldn’t connect between the front and back of his mind. A glass of water was shoved into his hand.

“Drink up, Erwin.” Hange resolutely leaned against the wall near the window. “Time to sober up and move forward.”

Erwin watched Hange’s face for a long time before turning to look back outside. Miche stood below the window, in front of the mess of glass and spilled liquor, looking up. Hange gave a thumbs up. Miche returned the gesture and returned to his squad.

Erwin sipped from the glass and stared blankly forward, through Hange and into some dark space he couldn’t identify.

“Levi’s dead,” he whispered. They were the first words he’d said in days.

“Yes. He is.” Hange’s tone turned soft.

“It’s my fault,” Erwin said. “He trusted me and I killed him.”

“Everyone in the Corps trusts you, Erwin.” Hange pressed a hand to his cheek and rubbed a thumb against the stubble. “And many of them die in the field. But you don’t drink this much scotch for all of them.”

“Levi was special.” Erwin was surprised by the challenging tone of his voice, like he expected Hange to argue with him on that fact. He became aware of a voice in his head supply, to me. He was special to me.

“He was,” Hange agreed. “He was incredible in so many ways. But he was also human, just like the rest of us.”

Erwin didn’t have a response for that. He drank the rest of the water and felt his stomach flip. He willed his body to hold it down. Hange went to the bathroom and poured another glass. Within two hours, filled mostly with silence, he had drank five glasses of water, pissed three times, and sobered up completely.

“Erwin, I actually came to ask you a favour,” Hange said after he emerged from the bathroom again.

“What is it?” Erwin didn’t like the apologetic look on their face.

“I was going to start cleaning out Levi’s office and, well. He left something for you on his desk. It’s a note.”

***

Sitting neatly in the centre of the desk was a small envelope. Written in thin lettering was, E.S. and Erwin picked it up, running a hand through his hair before opening it. He was expecting a long letter or a will, but instead was written simply,

Third drawer left. Underside.

-L

Erwin reread the note several times before looking around the room. Hange was busying themselves with the small bookshelf across the room, muttering quietly to no one in particular.

Glancing down at Levi’s desk, he furrowed brow with deeper confusion. Levi’s desk had two drawers on each side, not three. His bedroom didn't have a desk, and the small dresser had a single row of drawers.

The realization hit Erwin like a horse at full speed. He left the room, only vaguely aware of how abrupt his actions were by the confused noise Hange made. They did not follow him.

Just a minute later, Erwin was standing in front of his own desk, looking at the third drawer down on the left side. He glanced at the note again and something in his chest churned. He set the paper on his desk and pulled the drawer out and away from base, lifting it above his head, but he didn't find a note stuck to the underside. He set it down on top of the desk and stared at the contents; shoe polish and a rag and brush, a spare comb, a cluster of documents, a tin of sweets he kept for late nights. Nothing he hadn't seen hundreds of times, and nothing out of the ordinary. Slowly, he pushed at the bottom of the drawer, overhanging the edge of the desk. He did not expect it to lift, nor did he expect it to keep lifting as he continued to push upwards.

The bottom plank of the drawer peaked out over the top, followed almost immediately by a second plank. Curious, Erwin pressed the index finger of his free hand to hold the upper plank and slowly allowed the lower one to settle back down into position. In the space between the two planks sat a larger envelope, Erwin’s name written out in Levi’s unmistakable penmanship. Erwin slid the envelope out and let the upper plank drop unceremoniously back into place.

This envelope felt a good deal heavier than the one that contained the cryptic note. Erwin leaned back in his chair, breath caught in his throat, unsure he could handle whatever was contained within. Slowly, he spun the envelope around and pulled the flap away from the wax seal keeping it closed. He pulled out the sheets lying inside and unfolded them and read.

Erwin-

If you're reading this, that means I've died during an expedition. I've been leaving the note with the clue to finding this letter on my desk just before we've left for expeditions for years now. This letter has changed over time; I've written new ones as necessary, but the intention has always been the same.

I hope you didn't have to see me die. I hope I was already gone when you found out. I know all too well what it's like to watch the light fade from someone's eyes, to feel their heartbeat stop, to feel the warmth leave their body. I desperately hope you didn't have to endure that for me. If you did, I'm sorry. I hope it was quick.

I hope you don't mind that I modified your desk drawer to hide this note. I didn't want to risk someone else finding it when they were cleaning out my office. At least this way, I have more hope that you will be the only one to read this. (By the way, I did it when you were in a meeting at the capitol one day. Yes, I learned how to do it in the Underground. No, none of my own drawers have a false bottom.)

Do me a favour, and do not blame yourself for my death. Whatever the circumstances were, just know it wasn't your fault. I know you'll probably still blame yourself, but I want to say it anyway.

Just know that everything I did, I did for you, and your dream. I know that sounds hopelessly subservient and like I'm just trying to make you feel good, but it’s true. I don't know that I've ever been able to explain it, but ever since we met, I've felt this draw to you. Like I waited my whole life to find you so I could follow you and be the strength you needed to accomplish anything.

Erwin, I hope you know that I have no regrets about following you. Just the opposite in fact. You may not have realized it – or maybe you did, you're always so damned perceptive – but you gave me a freedom I could not have achieved on my own. You gave me the wings I used to fly – literally and figuratively. With you, I had something to live for beyond just surviving through the day so I could survive through the next. I could never have enough words to tell you how grateful I am for that. You looked beyond the street thug with bad manners and saw something more, something that you thought was worth giving a chance. My whole life, no one had ever been willing to do that. Maybe all you saw that day was my strength and maybe that's all you wanted, and that's okay. I hope it was more than that. I hope what I've been sensing from you means it was more than that.

There's something you should know, and I've been too scared to tell you. Even now, I'm hesitating to write it out.

I love you, Erwin.

I'm so sorry I never told you. I've loved you for so long, and I was too much of a damned coward to say it. I hate that this is the way you'll find out. I hate that I'll never know if you feel the same way.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Erwin, please keep living, for me. Get your answers, fulfill your dream. Learn what really lies beyond the walls. See the world, however large or small it may be. I'll be with you, standing by your side. Even if you can't see me, or feel my hand wrap around yours, I'll be there. I promise.

I love you in every lifetime, in this world, and the next, and all the others after that. I'll wait for you at the end of time.

-Levi

Erwin held the sheet of paper in his hands and stared at the words for a long time, tears streaming down his cheeks. He placed the papers on his desk and held his head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body, heaving his chest and shaking him from head to toe.

“God, Levi,” he said to the room. “I love you too. I’m sorry I never told you. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He let himself cry until there was nothing left, being only distantly aware of Miche and Hange taking turns to poke their heads into the room to check on him. When only miserable groans fell from his lips and his head ached with grief, he allowed himself at last to pick up the papers and turn beyond Levi’s letter. Behind it sat a much shorter one.

Erwin-

I’m leaving everything I have to you. I know up on the Surface, people would call it “my estate,” but I don’t really have anything that would amount to an actual estate. So just, my stuff. I’m leaving you my stuff. All the shit in my office can go wherever; you can even leave it for whoever takes it next for all I care. What I actually want you to have is in a small chest under my bed. It’s not locked. There isn’t a lot in there. Just my other cravats (did you know I made them from one of my mother’s old dresses? It’s the only thing I have left of her. I promise they’re clean), the Survey Corps patches I took from Furlan’s uniform after he and Isabel died (I couldn’t find the rest of Izzy’s body to take hers), and that history book you gave me for my birthday that one year. I know I made fun of you for giving me a gift of something you like, but I did read it. I read it over and over and over. It was a part of you that you gave to me. And I have cherished it so much. I hope it’s okay for me to give it back to you now.

-Levi

Erwin walked into Levi’s bedroom and found the chest under the bed. He slowly pulled the contents from it, pausing to smell one of the cravats. It still had a hint of Levi’s scent underneath the smell of soap. When he pulled the book out, he found that the cover was held up slightly by something. Pulling it open, he felt another sob catch in his throat. A thin golden ring sat pressed into the first few pages, with a twist of paper wrapped around it.

Erwin pulled the ring out and unraveled the paper. It read simply:

Even after death do us part.

I do.

Erwin slid the ring onto his finger and whispered through his sobs, “I do.”

In the darkness of the room, he had the distant sense of a kiss pressed to his lips.

[mkaugust]

22 for moonchaser pleaseeeee

Hi, thank you!!

22 is drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo. So, sorry. CW: blood mention, implied death.

***********

Remus got in his car, alone, desperately trying not to picture driving home to James.  Instead, Remus’ thoughts were all red. Red lights, stop signs, blood running down his face, just after that last ever smile.

Remus turned the car around, unable to drive to an empty home just now.

Send me a number 1-101 and I'll write a microfic using that spotify wrapped song!