The moment used to be a distant dream manifested from dwindling hope and drawn out sorrow. Ymir remembered how her mind used to feel, muddled under the influence of alcohol and her self-pity consuming her in an unhealthy matter. Like a sickness that deteriorated a body, her depression had taken a toll on her and she felt as if the whole world was against her. It's a little odd to self reflect on that part of her life. And how close but also far she was from that self-absorbed pitiful woman she used to be.

Ymir's eyes flitted to Historia, soaking in her figure. She had a concentrated expression on her face while she played some mobile game on her phone. They were both off of work today, alone in the house because Ilse hardly showed up anymore. Ymir knew what that meant, Ilse didn't have to tell her anything for the brunette to know that soon enough no one would live in this apartment.

Ymir's heart ached with a love she used to think she would never feel again for another person. She thought, for not the first time, how she would do anything in the world to keep Historia happy. To help her thrive after the brutality of Historia's last relationship.

Ymir closed her eyes, the image of Marcel flashing through her head. His sad, but genuine smile wired across his face in a pain she could understand. He just had to be the brother to the monster that terrorized Historia. Marcel had to be dedicated and foolish towards Porco. She wondered what he was doing right now, what he was doing to prevent from a storm breaking out and wrecking all of their lives.

"Why?" The question slipped out of Ymir's mouth unintentionally.

Historia looked up, her eyebrows knitting together and she tilted her head curiously. "Why what?"

Ymir opened her eyes and she rubbed the back of her nape. "It's just…," Ymir sighed. "Do you know what's going on? With Marcel? Porco?"

Historia flinched at the name of her former husband and Ymir felt the guilt that pooled into her stomach. Ymir didn't like bringing up that bastard, she didn't but knowing how close he was, was a little off-putting. It's one of the reasons why she desperately wanted to get out of this place now. To take Marcel's advice. She just had to get her kid back.

"I…" Historia started but Ymir could tell from her expression that she didn't know what to say.

"From the moment I met you," Ymir said. "Maybe from the moment I met Marcel, this all happened." She waved her hand lamely, not sure she could word what she was trying to say properly.

"You mean, how connected we are with each other?" Historia questioned, her voice quiet but sure of itself.

Ymir nodded and then put her face into her hands. "It just had to be Porco."

The way the sentence came out almost sounded as she was accusing Historia, something the blond didn't take kindly to. Ymir hadn't even meant it to be, she didn't mean for it to sound as bad as it did but then again, wasn't their situation bad? As much as their lives were getting better, Ymir was a little afraid that Marcel wouldn't be able to keep his promise to Ymir, afraid he would let Porco get his way. She didn't want that for Historia, and if Ymir was feeling that way, she could only imagine how Historia was feeling.

"That's not my fault," Historia replied, a little defensively but Ymir could hear the quaver in her voice.

"I didn't mean it like that," Ymir quickly said, furrowing her eyebrows. She moved a hand to grab Historia's. She squeezed them with comfort. "It's fucked, it's not fair."

"We both know that life isn't fair," Historia's voice sounded distant and Ymir noticed the dark look clouding her ocean eyes. "But I know what you meant...we're just more involved with each other's lives than we realize."

Ymir swallowed, her head bobbing in agreement. Historia let go of Ymir's hand. "It shouldn't matter though. We've come this far without P-...getting involved. You even said that Marcel didn't want anything to do with you, with us. We just need to move on. Ignore them. They aren't our responsibility, Ymir. You said it yourself, our lives should be about us, and only us."

"Marcel-," Ymir knew that they shouldn't be having this conversation in the first place. While she made sure to always be honest with Historia, certain things made Historia uncomfortable. This was one of those times. "He's a complicated person."

Historia raised an eyebrow, her gaze hardening. There was a flicker of fear in her eyes that Ymir wished she didn't cause. "What are you suggesting?"

Ymir backed down and shook her head, leaning back and giving Historia her space. "Nothing, it's nothing." He's just troubled. A selfless idiot. Who knows how to give and not take anything in return. But maybe she was being stupid. He was her friend, and much as he was foolish with his caring attitude, Ymir couldn't do anything for him. He wouldn't accept it and she knew the best she could do is listen to his words and don't get involved.

"Leave this place and live a life you can be proud of, Ymir."

It's this weird battle of power the two of them were playing. Porco was trying to fight and lash out while Marcel was keeping a steady head and using his words to defeat Porco in every way possible.

"What's wrong with you?" Porco spat out, his anger sprouting from a sober mind rather than a drunken one.

"A lot of things," Marcel admitted with a smile. One of those smiles that were practiced so much that it was hard to tell if he was serious or not. Marcel's left eye was still swollen from Porco's assault. When Zeke saw his condition the next day, Marcel had never seen him disappointed until then. It gave him a moment to process that Marcel meant more to Zeke than just a partner of the business. He let Zeke down. Of course, he had. "If you keep lashing out like that, I might have to sign you up for anger management classes. I thought you were getting better, Porco."

His brother was taken aback by Marcel's honesty. The honesty that started to emit from Marcel since their fight. "I really don't understand you."

"I don't think you've ever have," Marcel chuckled dryly, slowing the car to a stop. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out.

He stood on the bridge where Ymir had killed Willy Tybur. He went to the edge and looked down at the rushing water, violent and untamed. He had to wonder how Ymir was fortunate enough to survive. Zeke had known, somehow, that Willy was dragging Ymir into their petty drama. Willy Tybur had been an untamed man and there was satisfaction when the river had taken his life. Marcel was hoping that he had Willy's luck when it came to this indecisive river. A river that took most lives and spared others.

"What are you doing?" Porco called out, getting out of the passenger seat. His eyes widened with genuine concern that Marcel didn't think he would see.

"Killing myself," Marcel replied coolly, his hands gripping onto the railing and lifting himself up. He could phantom the feeling of the water consuming him. Dragging him off into darkness, taking him away from the confusing misery of his life.

Before he could even move a muscle, a hand gripped onto his shirt and jerked him back. Marcel fell onto the road, his back grazing against the asphalt. He looked up to see Porco looming over him, Porco's eyes wild with concern and frustration. "And I thought you didn't like me."

"You're my brother," Porco huffed out, kneeling down to look at Marcel. His tense expression softened briefly and he moved to lay down beside Marcel. "What is wrong with you..?"

This time the question was spoken with a shudder in his voice. Marcel couldn't blame him. It was a sudden decision and Marcel wasn't sure if he was going to go through with suicide or not. He was just tired. Tired of everything. And he didn't want Porco to ruin any more of his own life or...Historia's.

Marcel stared up at the sky, looking at the clouds. For a moment, he was a kid again with grass tickling his face. "What's your problem?"

"You're my problem," Porco recited, his voice bitter and defeated.

"I really don't understand you."

"I don't think you've ever have."

"What do you want?"

"I want….I want my wife."

Marcel sat up and looked at him, expressionless. Porco's face was red and puffy, tears pooling from his eyes. "Porco, I'm getting tired of having this conversation."

"I know," Porco choked out, wiping at his face as he sat upright. He hunched over with a tremble to his lips. "I know you are, I just can't stop thinking about her. I don't know if I can move on."

"Hmm," Marcel offered, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Maybe if they were teenagers this would have been different. No, it definitely would be different. But they were both grown men and seeing Porco crying with heartbreak that Marcel wasn't sure was genuine, it left him a little disgusted. Something he normally didn't feel towards his brother.

"I'm not trying to guilt-trip you."

"It wouldn't have worked even if you were trying."

Porco took in a sharp breath and Marcel could tell he was trying to keep his anger at bay. "Why can't you, anyway? I don't get it. You talk about giving me anything in the world but her."

Marcel shrugged, trying to fight off the pressure he felt. The weight that pressed against his chest. Marcel made it his own responsibility to not ruin their lives. "Maybe it's because I love her."

Porco didn't take the bait. He half-heartedly laughed. "You don't love anyone like that. That's not you."

Marcel appreciated the laugh even if Porco's words came out a little cruelly. Of course, it didn't offend him considering it was a truth. On the topic of love, he knew Porco loved another person other than Historia. The thought dawned on him and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could help Porco. There was only one person Marcel had never seen Porco be brutal towards. One person who could talk Porco down. One person Porco who he'd listen to. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Porco asked, taking Marcel's hand as his older brother offered to help him up. When Marcel only headed to his car without a reply, Porco questioned again, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to open a can of worms."

Yelena

i know i don't text u and all

but

ur buddy is here

he told her something

she kinda seemed freaked out

You

Marcel?

Why the hell are you telling me this?

Yelena

well i was wondering if u know anything

she isn't normally like that

You

Why don't you ask her?

Yelena

i would

u know

cause that's a really good idea

but he took her

You

.

Yelena

Ymir?

Ymir?

Hello?

well if u c this, plz come to the bar, i'm lonely and sad :(((

i miss u, u don't come anymore

Ymir didn't see the last few messages as Historia drew her attention. They had started house hunting, they were pretty far from their own home and even though some of the houses they were viewing were way out of their budget, it was nice to tour.

"The bathroom in the master bedroom is a little small," Historia said as she finished listing the pros and cons of the house they were viewing. Ymir had to admit that Historia really had a knack for this and probably was better at deciding than she was. "Specifically the shower."

"Oh yeah, this house is definitely off the list," Ymir agreed teasingly, trying to fight off her nervous thoughts that were starting to sprout. What the hell was Marcel doing? "How else are we supposed to fu-"

"Are you ladies finished?" The real estate agent popped into the living room they were standing in, his eyebrow raised in question.

"In the shower."

"We could make it work if we end up with this place, I'm sure you're willing to bend some limbs," Historia countered as Ymir's smirk faltered. She turned to the man and gave a friendly smile. "I think we're done here. Thank you."

"Oh?" He said with a confused expression but he nodded politely. "To the next house then."

While Ymir and Historia followed them, Ymir took this as a chance to look at her phone. When she saw Yelena's last few messages, she frowned.

You

I thought we already established why I don't go there anymore.

Yelena

right right ur like a changed woman or whatever

You

Your dismissal really makes me glad we're not friends.

Yelena

OUCH

r u serious?

i thought we had something :(

You

What do you want me to do about it?

It's not my business.

Yelena

do you know what it might have been?

You

I have an idea.

Yelena

so u know

You

I'd rather not get involved.

Yelena

You

I'm sorry, Yelena.

Yelena

just give me something

i've never seen Pieck like that before

i'm worried

please

You

His name is Porco.

Yelena

oh…

i know him.

Ymir's bit her lip and looked towards Historia's direction, who was chatting civilly with the real estate agent. She could tell from the agent's expression that he might be a little interested in Historia, judging by his slightly tinged cheeks. Ymir shook her head, wondering if Historia had already noticed. She sure wasn't doing anything to chase him down or even toy with him. Ymir had to wonder, now that Porco was on her mind, how he had been towards Historia when other people showed their interests in her. Ymir visibly shuddered when she imagined how he could have lashed out towards Historia. The same burning hatred brewed inside and Ymir had to ease herself before she did something stupid.

Ymir caught up with Historia and the real estate agent, wrapping an arm around Historia's arms and sending a knowing look at the man. He made eye contact with her briefly, flushing. His expression gave a subtle twinge of apologies and he stepped away to let them look around the new house they were in, telling them he would be around if they had questions.

"How heroic of you," Historia said, as they started touring. She moved a hand to pat the arm around her shoulders and chuckled. "Warding off admirers."

"So, you knew."

"I usually always notice when I've caught someone's affections."

"Wait," Ymir mused. "Even with me?"

"Mmm," Historia bit her lip, a thoughtful look in her eyes but she didn't answer Ymir's question.

Ymir wasn't sure how to take that but a swarm of butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she leaned forward to lightly kiss Historia's temple. She's seen the way others have looked at Historia before and Ymir had a sense of pride that she was the lucky fool to end up with the blond.

Don't do anything stupid, Marcel. Ymir thought, almost on the bitter side. She didn't want any more drama. She didn't want Historia to hurt anymore. She craved liberation from the unfairness and cruelty that the world had to offer. She wanted to keep making distance from that hollow woman who was filled to the peak with guilt and self-hatred.

"What's wrong?" Historia asked, a note of concern that was on the borderline of confusion as she watched Ymir's features shift. The two of them were in a room, tucked away near a corner as Historia had looked in the closet and evaluated its space. Her attention was pulled away to look at Ymir with a sense of generosity that Ymir sometimes felt like she didn't deserve.

Ymir, with a wrinkle of hesitancy, shook her head. "Nothing, really."

"You're frowning."

"So are you," Ymir countered, her attempt of trying to play it off only bringing an unamused raise of Historia's eyebrow. Ymir gently pushed Historia forward, the back of the woman's head nearly bumping against the wall. Ymir brought her hand to lift Historia's chin and her thumb ran against the corner of Historia's lip. "Sometimes I just forget how lucky I am."

Historia looked back at her, her gaze wavering. She lifted a hand to pull Ymir's fingers from her face. She squeezed the brunette's fingers carefully. Historia agreed, her voice quiet with reminiscent pain. "Me too."

Ymir kissed Historia. With fragility and tenderness as if she feared one of them would break apart on the spot. Ymir's body swayed a little, her head growing dizzy with pure terror and ecstasy. She'd loathe the world if this was ever taken away from her. Ymir loved Historia.

As simple as it was, it was such an impactful moment that Ymir decided, almost on the verge of tears, she wanted to marry this woman.

An alarming realization that caused feverish regret to swamp her whole body. Historia had only just gotten out of a marriage not so long ago. Reasonably, Ymir didn't want to put her in another one, not when Historia reclaimed her own life so recently.

So Ymir kissed her deeper and locked up that thought. Saving it for a much later but undetermined time.

Marcel spent enough time with Pieck to know their differences. Pieck was a manifestation of genuinity that Marcel would never achieve. She had the same smile that Marcel practiced so many times but hers was a rendition with far more emotion and beauty that Marcel couldn't accomplish. It's why more people always flocked towards Pieck than they did Marcel.

She stood, a few paces away from Porco and Marcel with a look that Marcel couldn't understand. There was a shadow of nervousness that casted over her lazy eyes that he didn't think was possible. Pieck still presented herself with the cool nature she had always kept a hold of since they were kids. And despite her droopy eyelids that seemed purposeful and wry smile, she looked at Porco the same way he looked back at her.

Porco's expression was contorted with a resurfaced memory that had been previously repressed. A distant dream that he couldn't achieve despite Pieck's reciprocation. He gazed upon her as if she was just a hallucination and then with a daunting realization, his jaw clenched with regret.

"I wasn't good enough," The outburst of a late confession fell between them and Marcel was half tempted to walk away.

Pieck opened her mouth with hesitancy then closed it, biting her lip. She didn't speak for a few moments. Those moments long enough to make Porco tremble with anticipation. Then she decided delicately, to say simply, "I know."

Porco's eyes widened and Marcel watched a million thoughts that rushed through his head as he made up alternative realities of what could have been.

"You thought I deserved better," Pieck said, all too easily. "That's why you let me go." There was a hint of heartbreak that Marcel thought was just a phantom of the past. Marcel thought, almost morbidly, if Pieck still loved Porco despite their distance. She didn't know what Porco had done. Who he had brutalized and how he had acted.

Marcel saw the verge of confession on Porco's tongue as if he would say those three magic words just then. As if he would finally let go of his delusional devotion to Historia and fall to the ground at Pieck's feet. Before it could even happen though, Porco's expression shifted into an acceptance that Marcel couldn't expect. An echo of maturity that seemed lost to his younger brother.

Porco whispered, "Are you happy?"

Pieck paused, clearly not expecting that question. But without any decisive thoughtfulness, she nodded confidently. "Yeah, I am."

"That's good," Porco commented, almost as if the statement had been a sort of reassurance of his acceptance. He took a careful step forward. And not expecting it, Pieck carelessly closed the distance between them and she embraced him with nostalgic comfort that she could only provide for Porco.

Marcel watched the way his brother's heart cracked but Porco didn't cry. He hugged Pieck tightly as if he had no intention of letting go but then he did and there was a twisted smile on his face that left Marcel feeling disturbed.

He didn't honestly predict it to go this way. The interaction Marcel initiated to bring some sort of civility to Porco's mind. Marcel took a step backward and he was unsure what would happen from here. As if his attempt either resulted in a useless outcome or changed their lives for the greater good.

"Ymir killed Willy Tybur," Historia said, a heavy realization falling over her mind and making her heartbeat irregularly.

Ilse, who stood beside her, stopped stirring her coffee and let the spoon fall with a disruptive clink. Historia glanced at her and she noticed that there was no surprise or disbelief in her features. Only some off guard unbalance that seemed fitting considering her character.

Ymir had gone to work, with an unnecessary hurried pace that made Historia a little worried. This was one of the few rare times now, where Ilse was home and the two of them were both alone together. Historia knew Ilse was only here in an effort of courtesy. Historia already knew Ilse's home was with Onyan. Her heart belonged to him the same way Historia's belonged to Ymir.

Historia turned off the stove, finished cooking a small breakfast for the two of them and she looked at the woman with an undetermined expression. Ilse wasn't expressing any sort of emotion that would have her freaking out in one way or another. Willy Tybur had been related to the missing person cases that Ilse had worked so hard on. Historia was smart enough to know what that meant.

"You didn't tell the authorities," Historia didn't wait for Ilse's unneeded confession. She fixed their plates and continued, "Why not?"

"I...it's a little obvious, isn't it?"

"I just expected you to do the right thing."

Ilse's eyes widened and she looked at Historia, shaken up. "Ruining Ymir's life for some fucked up politician was the right thing?"

"It was the lawful thing to do," Historia replied.

Ilse reeled back, her eyebrows furrowing before she looked at Historia with undisguised anger. "Excuse me? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Historia wavered at Ilse's outburst but didn't back down. "You just never seemed to be that type of friend."

Historia knew Ilse was smart enough to understand what she meant by that. When the realization dawned on her features, Ilse grimaced guiltily. "Right…"

"Ymir's doing better," Historia said matter-of-factly then with a certain darkness to her tone, she added, "But when she wasn't, you weren't exactly the greatest of friends."

"I'm going to have to stop you right there," Ilse laughed, the effort a little forced. "Historia, do you even know how it was before you walked into our lives, Ymir's life? In all honesty, we don't actually know each other well. And I haven't stuck around long enough to ask you about your life. Your life before Ymir."

"We're friends, Ilse."

"We are friends," Ilse confirmed. "But we're not the best of friends."

"Right."

"You wanna know something?" Ilse asked, rhetorically. She lifted her cup of coffee to her lips and took a long drink. "I was confused at first when Ymir told me she was pregnant. We had already broken up a while back and considering how long I knew her, I could have never expected that sort of thing. And it's not even the fact that she's into women, I just never saw her as the type to have a kid. I asked her if she would get an abortion, that I would even help her if she wanted it, but-"

"She didn't."

"She didn't get one and to this day, I don't understand. Our apartment isn't exactly family material, the two of us have only ever managed an income to support this place and the two of us and Ymir hardly knew the guy she...she did it with."

"Val."

Ilse raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Ymir told you about him?"

"I met him," Historia provided, thinking back to the charming man.

"Oh," Ilse fiddled with her coffee cup. "I've only ever seen the guy when we were in court. But anyway, in case the thought never occurred, I was there when Ymir had her daughter and I even helped raise her."

Ilse looked at Historia for a moment then distantly into the living room. "When Val came into the picture, we couldn't exactly afford a lawyer. And admittedly, I think Ymir's stubbornness was what led to her loss. She had been a regular drinker at first but when she lost, she spiraled downwards and drank her misery away. I didn't know how to deal with that, Historia. I felt sorry, I missed her daughter but I couldn't help Ymir after that. I was there, but I wasn't there."

"I think Ymir knew that too," Ilse said. "I've never exactly been told it was my fault or why I didn't help. You're the first person to bring it up, Historia. And I get that, you love Ymir but that was kind of out of nowhere."

"Well, I think I understand you a little more," Historia offered, not hinting at any feeling of shame. "But if you've never really helped before, then why now?"

"You're smart enough to know why, Historia."

"I want to hear you say it, Ilse."

"Because I love Ymir too?" Ilse tried.

"Well, that's terrible," Historia shook her head. "She's kind of taken right now."

"I'm sure I can seduce her."

"Doubtful."

"Really?"

Historia nodded.

"Can I try seducing you then?"

"Save that for Onyan," Historia lifted a hand as if she half expected Ilse to advance towards her.

Ilse chuckled and tapped her fingers on the counter. "Willy Tybur did irredeemable things and he probably deserved to rot in prison rather than die so suddenly, but Ymir killed him. And everyone thinks her 'accident' was unrelated. So, I want to keep it that way. Ymir, as hard as it is to admit it, deserves the world. At least, for now. And her world is you and her daughter. The last thing she needs is to go to prison and have all her progress just go away. I don't think she deserves to be punished for doing the world a favor and getting rid of that sicko."

"She nearly killed herself."

"Ymir was lucky," Ilse recalled. "Very lucky. She did one of the noblest acts, sacrificing everything for those women, those girls. I don't even think Ymir realizes how selfless she was at that moment."

Historia remembered when Ymir had told her everything. Ymir had never really given Historia a reason why she tried to kill Willy other than what he had done. She never even acknowledged how she almost killed herself in the process. Ymir just mentioned the anger she felt before and then after. She had just been so angry and that's what had led to their tension previously, Ymir and Historia had been fighting, both silently and vocally. Historia won't ever forget that phase, as it had been their first time fighting. After they made amends though, life had been so much better. Ymir was still apologetic to this day and her effort in bettering her own life and Historia's was present in every action did. In every word she said. Ymir was selfless. Probably one of the most selfless people she had ever met. Historia had always been selfish herself and when she married Porco, his selfishness was all she had known. Ymir was a good person, despite her flaws. And Ymir didn't even realize that. "I love her."

"I sure hope so," Ilse provided, she had started eating her breakfast at the table while Historia had been lost in her thoughts. Ilse pointed a fork at Historia. "It'd suck if you didn't. Because I plan on leaving, and if you did it on the couch, I'm not taking it. You can have it. You guys can continue making love there, make some couch babies if you want.

"We've made sure to avoid the couch," Historia admitted nonchalantly then placed her palms on the table and leaned towards Ilse's face. "But you don't get it. I love her."

Ilse paused for a moment, processing it, and then when her evaluating eyes came to a solution, her lips twisted into an amused smile. "Gross, I've never even considered that."

"Good thing too," Historia said, feeling her heart flutter in a relieving realization. "I'd hate if she had been married to you. It's already bad enough that you two dated."

"We fucked too," Ilse added helpfully.

Historia frowned and replied, less enthusiastically. "I'd rather not think about that."

Ilse shrugged. "Don't you think it's too soon? To want to get married?"

"It is."

"So, I am not crazy?"

"That's debatable."

"Hmm," Ilse hummed around a mouthful of food. "A pointless realization then."

"I wouldn't call it pointless."

"How long will you wait?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, I see no use in having this conversation anymore," Ilse concluded.

Historia grabbed Ilse's shoulders and shook her. Mostly to terrorize her than out of excitement. "I'm in love with Ymir and I want her to be my wife!"

"Yeah, I figured that out a few minutes ago," Ilse moved to pry Historia's hands off of her. She blinked a couple of times, to get rid of a dizzy spell. "Congratulations?"

"Thank you."

"God, you're so weird. Seriously, you're like a stranger sometimes."

"You're the one who said 'couch babies', how am I the weird one?"

"You know who Porco is?"

"Hi Yelena, how are you? I'm doing well, thanks for asking. How are you, Ymir? You're great? That's so good to hear! Would you like a drink? Wait, sorry, I forgot it's too early in the day for you to have a drink. I could help you with a glass of water instead?"

Ymir stared at her, a lack of amusement present in her posture and features. Yelena finished up stocking up the wine rack and turned to Ymir with a well-placed smirk. She planted her hands on the counter and greeted almost dramatically, "Hello, Ymir."

"I didn't come here for your games," Ymir said sternly, taking a few steps forward to stand across the counter and face Yelena.

"But you did come here for something," Yelena bounced back. And before Ymir could give a borderline bitter response, Yelena answered with as much elegance as an inexperienced actor and winked, "You came here for me."

"I came here to talk."

"Right, to me."

Ymir sighed, trying to keep rising frustration from making her explode. Ymir didn't need to act out like that. She really didn't.

"Hey, remember when you threw a glass at me just because I thought you were in a poly relationship?" Yelena picked up a half-full glass from one of her customers who was knocked out and had their face attached to the smooth surface of the counter. Drool pooled from the corner of his lip and he snored obnoxiously. Yelena made no effort to disturb him.

Ymir reluctantly nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. "From what I recall, I was choking and you were just laughing at me instead of helping."

"Yeah, that happened too," Yelena agreed, pouring out the rest of the alcohol and cleaning the glass.

Ymir leaned forward, resting her hands against the counter, and got into Yelena's personal space. "Can we please talk?"

"We are talking," Yelena blinked her eyes innocently.

"Privately?"

Yelena's gaze traveled around the bar and she gestured nonchalantly, "There are not many people here, and the ones who are, are stuck in some drunken daze or passed out," She then focused on Ymir and reached a hand to touch the side of Ymir's face. "Look at you. Those are the eyes of someone who wanted to change and did it. I don't see that often around here."

The moment of intimacy caught Ymir off guard. She froze for a moment, not sure what to do. There was still a part of her that was resentful towards Yelena but she knew she had to let that go. Ymir had been acknowledging that every moment since her downward spiral was her fault, not other people's. She accepted that fact and she knew that her effort in self-fulfillment was not being as irritable as she was right now. Ymir took a few steps up that never-ending staircase and relaxed.

Before Ymir could say anything though, the moment was interrupted by a rather calm voice.

"Well, I would like to think that walking into this is the least of my worries for now."

Ymir jerked away and directed her attention to the owner of the voice. Pieck walked diligently forward, a cool expression defining her features. She leaned her crutches against the counter and placed herself on the seat next to Ymir's. She greeted Ymir with one of her classic easy-going smiles before turning to Yelena. "I hope you're not harassing, Ymir. She doesn't deserve that."

"Harassing Ymir? I would never," Yelena placed a hand on her chest as if she took offense to what Pieck.

"Hmmm," Pieck only offered in reply before looking at Ymir with a thoughtful gaze. "As much as I appreciate surprises, I have my doubts that you actually came here to see me."

"Uh, I came here for Yelena."

"Wow, way to rat out a friend, Ymir."

"Oh? She was worried about me?" Pieck sent a knowing look that caused Yelena's demeanor to waver.

Yelena flushed, rubbing her arm, and muttered, "Maybe a little."

"A lot," Ymir contributed.

"You're so sweet," Pieck gushed, reaching a hand across the counter to pinch Yelena's cheek. The bartender swatted her hand away, straightening her posture and fighting away a blush.

"Well, since you're here, I think I'd rather talk to you," Ymir told Pieck, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yelena here hasn't been a good conversational partner."

"Ah, I understand. Let me guess, you want to talk about Porco?"

"I-"

"I'll be honest with you, Ymir. There isn't anything to talk about."

Ymir hesitated momentarily before saying, "You know him the best, Pieck. I just want to know what's going on."

"Uh, hello, hi, Yelena, here," The tall blond leaned forward to intervene and looked a little disappointed at the both of them. "Can I be included in this conversation?"

"Of course."

"No."

Yelena beamed at Pieck's response then sent a hurt look at Ymir that didn't seem genuine at all. "I believe it's only fair that I'm included. After all, Porco used to be a regular here."

"What?"

"Oh?"

"Ymir, don't act surprised, I texted you that I knew him."

Pieck commented, "I'm just a little shocked you met him before me."

Ymir took a moment to process what Yelena said. She knew Yelena recognized Porco's name and logically it was because he had been her customer once but Ymir had a hard time grappling with the fact that she had never encountered him here. Porco had been Historia's abuser and Ymir had frequented the same bar he did. So, how did she never see him? Ymir had been so close. Had she just been too self-absorbed or had he been too drunk to recognize her? Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Ymir stood up, the stool she had been sitting on, grunted. Ymir placed a hand on her face for a moment then turned to Pieck. "Marcel was there, right?"

Pieck nodded.

Marcel was there when Pieck and Porco had talked. Ymir tried to understand what his plan was when it came to that. She knew Pieck had a power over Porco that no one else had but judging from how Pieck was acting, Ymir had to figure that nothing too dramatic happened. "Do you know what Porco has done, Pieck?"

She shook her head, slowly. Then, biting her lip, she answered, "I don't know what's he done but whatever it is, it's written all over his face. I...I don't want to think that he did anything bad and a part of me doesn't want to know why you know what he's done." Pieck paused for a moment, sharing a glance with Yelena. Ymir could tell that Yelena was concerned, her expression withered in worry for a woman she never expected to love. "But, I'm smart enough to know he's far different from the Porco I have once known. Something's ugly inside him. A misunderstood part that none of us could pick up on when we were teenagers, not even me. Porco's on the verge of something, and one of these days he's going to explode. And that's upsetting to think about."

Ymir saw the way Pieck's mind worked. What she was thinking at the moment. If Ymir was in her shoes, she would have been feeling the same way. The regret and guilt that was too familiar. What would have happened if the two of them had actually gotten together. If Porco could have been happy. If Pieck could have prevented a man from breaking apart into delusional recklessness.

"But I guess that's what happens when you have a brother who gives you the world."

It was an unexpected comment that caused an ill feeling to swamp in Ymir's stomach. Was Pieck blaming Marcel for Porco's behavior? Ymir clenched her jaw and she looked away. It couldn't be Marcel's fault. If Marcel had any control, they wouldn't have a situation like this in the first place. And Ymir was sure that Marcel probably blamed himself anyway. But it wasn't his responsibility, even if Marcel was selfless as ever and offered anything he could to almost everyone he met.

"It's...It's not Marcel's fault. How could you say that? You've spent years with him, how could you say that, Pieck? You know him, you know what happened wasn't his fault."

"I don't know Marcel, Ymir," Pieck's tone was sharp with honesty. An overdue admission finally reaching the light. A conversation that should have been had years ago, with the rest of their friend group after the day Marcel got them in trouble and he killed someone for Zeke. Ymir could see it. The way Pieck was almost hoping that the rest of them would appear out of thin air. Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Eren. "None of us do. You were the closest to him, Ymir, and you hardly understand him. Admit it. Marcel's made so many promises to keep us happy. But the moment it came to Porco, he would break those promises. Who's to say that Marcel didn't lie to you, Ymir?"

"How...He promised me…"

"He always makes promises, Ymir. He tells anyone what they like to hear, even if he doesn't agree with it."

"No," Ymir said firmly. She shook her head. That night, when Ymir had run away from Historia after their fight. Marcel had saved Ymir from being hit by a car and beat the shit out of her. That night was the most he had ever been honest about his feelings. When he wore his heart on his sleeve. Ymir knew there was no way that was all an act. It couldn't have been. Marcel had been too much of a wreck to be smart enough to lock away his true feelings like he usually did. That night, he hadn't been a hollow man with a friendly smile that never reached his eyes. He had been a flicker of someone who had been kept away because of a selfish brother and a foolish mindset. "You don't understand. You weren't there that night. You didn't see how he was."

"Ymir," Yelena spoke up, her attentive expression showing that she was aware of the tension. "Ymir, come on-"

Pieck interrupted Yelena, speaking evenly to Ymir, "Marcel's never been true to himself. Those years I spent with him, when it was just the two of us, he wasn't a person. And there was nothing I could do about that. He had closed himself off from the world. He shut down the moment Porco wasn't in his life. He's too reliant on Porco to ever do anything for himself. The only bit of selfishness he's ever had was pleasing Porco so Marcel could feel better about himself. You don't know Marcel. No one does, not even him. He's too broken."

Marcel should have been smarter. And while he recognized all the moments leading up to this, there was a gift of shock that ignited his body. He had been in this business for so long. Working under Zeke before he was even an adult and now, all those years of work were being discarded. That part of his life, being crumpled up and thrown away. A responsibility stripped away from him and forcing him to decide what he wanted to do next in his life.

"You've done things that I don't think anyone would dare to do," Zeke spoke, his voice distant as he smoked a cigarette. "I'll always appreciate you for doing that, Marcel. But I think it's time for you to go."

Marcel didn't say anything, stunned in silence.

"You've achieved more than anyone else and yet that achievement amounted to nothing. Now, you have power, more power than you know what to do with. And if I wasn't smart enough, you would have control over me," A stream of smoke left his lips and he tilted his head upwards, the sunlight reflecting off his glasses. He scratched his beard and didn't meet Marcel's gaze. "You're a confusing young man. A person who could have everything but never taking advantage of that. All because of an unrequited devotion to a foolish little brother."

A surge of energy flooded through Marcel and he lunged towards Zeke. Zeke was quicker though as if he expected the outburst. He stepped to the side and Marcel's right fist made contact with the wooden support beam of the front porch. The wood splintered on contact and blood started to surface, consuming Marcel's hand.

Zeke looked at the splintered wood with raised eyebrows. "I'll admit that's impressive. If I hadn't dodged, that sure would have hurt. Nice try, though."

"What about Eren?!" Marcel shouted, lifting his fist and resting it at the side of his leg.

"What about him?"

"He's your brother, wouldn't you do anything for him?!"

"In another life, maybe," Zeke replied, his voice softer. He finished his cigarette and extinguished it. Shoving his hands in his pocket, Zeke continued, "But Eren's smart. Smart enough to live a satisfactory life. He doesn't need his older brother to sacrifice everything for him."

Marcel inhaled sharply, his hands shaking with an overwhelming storm of emotions. He felt uncontained. Everything whirling inside him was causing him to feel nausea.

"The broken man finally broke," Zeke puffed out, turning away from Marcel. "I told you and you didn't listen. You're letting your problems eat you up. I thought you were wiser than that, Marcel. It's a shame."

"Wha...what are you talking about?" Marcel felt the warm stickiness of his blood coating his hand. The way it clung to his skin, staining it red. "None of my problems have been an issue for you. Why are you cutting me off? You're scared, aren't you?"

"Tell me why I would fear you."

"I can tell the authorities, I can ruin this operation for you and you know that."

Zeke was silent for a heartbeat then he burst out laughing, something on the borderline of a cackle. "Marcel, don't be a fool. If that was the case, I'd keep you in power. The thing is, I'm sharper than that. If you even try taking me down, I'm dragging you with me. But you don't want that, going to jail is the last thing you need right now. If you're in prison, who's going to take care of that psychopath of your brother? He's already on the verge of self-destruction and if you walk out on him, you're practically sending him to his death."

The truth hurts. Honesty was a brutal thing and Marcel was still smart enough to realize Zeke was right. And it made him angry, similar anger that he had always resented. Marcel was a fucking idiot. And any opportunity of reclaiming his life was just a fleeting thought of naivety that he knew he could never achieve. He made Porco his life. He was going to stick to that despite what everyone else has told him.

"Goodbye, Marcel. I want you out of my house by this evening. And if it makes it any better, you were the best ally I could have asked for."

Marcel didn't care.

The familiar sensation of discomfort and fear swamped Historia's chest. Her palms felt clammy and there was anxious alertness applied to her posture that kept her from relaxing.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

That noise. It echoed in her mind, knocking against her head with persistence in the desperation of not being forgotten. She noticed the uneven rhythm applied to the clicking of a clock that was unbothered and solemn, barely keeping up with her irregular heartbeat.

Historia lifted herself from the loveseat, her skin crawling the moment the fabric stopped making contact. Historia took a few steps forward, looking around, disoriented. The house was spinning. The house which contained the secrets of a failed marriage. She tumbled towards the front door, grasping at the doorknob. Historia opened it, desperate for the intake of fresh air instead of the toxins that hung around her, choking her. Instead, she swayed backward as a familiar figure lumbered through the door frame and towered over her.

"Bastard," Porco growled, his eyes illuminating with malice. He gripped a pistol and raised it, first aiming it at his temple before placing the muzzle of the gun onto the center of her forehead.

Historia stared at him, trembling.

"You're worthless," He spat out, with as much cruelty as he could manage.

Historia tried to say something, anything but she started to choke. Droplets of blood spewed from her lips but instead of falling to the ground, they floated upwards, like soap bubbles. Historia brought a hand to wrap around her throat, confused and scared.

Suddenly she weighed almost nothing, light as a feather. She looked at Porco one more time before his lips curled with spite and he pulled the trigger.

Historia started to plummet.

Historia shot up immediately, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Her hands went to her forehead, half expecting a bullet hole to be there. When she didn't feel blood or a gaping hole, Historia took a deep breath, her whole body shuddering. "Shit."

"Hey, are you okay?"

Historia stiffened for a moment, still trying to reclaim a sense of her surroundings. The sound of her blood pulsating in her ears didn't help. She felt a hand touch her lower back before traveling up to her shoulder. It took a few seconds for her body to register that it was Ymir was touching her, Historia leaned back, knowing that Ymir was there to support her.

"I...It's just a nightmare, that's all," Historia said shakily, her fear trying to consume her whole body. She took a minute to recognize her surroundings and recalled 's advice on how to calm herself. She started to mentally name all the things around her. Window. Curtains. Shelf. Lamp. Books. When she felt her heartbeat start to calm, Historia sighed, just starting to notice Ymir rubbing reassuring circles on her skin.

"What time is it?" Historia mumbled, closing her eyes and focusing on the comfort Ymir was providing.

"6 a.m."

Historia groaned, curling herself into Ymir's embrace. "Did I wake you up?"

"Nah, I was already awake."

"Really?"

"Of course," Ymir answered confidently, planting a kiss on the top of Historia's kiss. Her other hand ran through Historia's golden locks, fiddling with her hair. "Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

"No," Historia admitted, opening her eyes and shifted herself so she could look at Ymir. "What about you?"

"Yeah, me neither," Ymir replied. Her eyebrows knitted together in thought and she gave a lopsided smile. "I have an idea."

Historia wasn't against the idea and honestly, it was a little refreshing to feel the early morning sun grace her skin and the content air fill her lungs but it wasn't fair. Ymir had much longer legs and they carried her further. Historia was getting a little annoyed of seeing Ymir's backside and she knew the brunette wasn't keeping pace with her purposely in a way of teasing. Historia forced herself forward, not breaking her rhythm, and tried to catch up with Ymir.

She wasn't sure how long they ran for but when they both finished, they were both covered in a sheen of sweat. Ymir had a hand placed on a tree, using it as support as she tried to catch her breath. Historia was already sitting down, her head against the rough bark as she was placed between the grand roots of the oak. Ymir looked down at her, grinning. "Not bad, shorty."

"Shut up," Historia wheezed out, trying to fight a smile from stretching across her face.

They remained like that, recovering from the run. When they both could manage to say more than a few words, Ymir broke the serene silence with admission. "I want to marry you, Historia Reiss, do you know that?"

Historia had not been expecting that. But instead of some overdramatic response, Historia sighed with exhaustion, "I want to marry you too."

The conversation stopped briefly. Their words hung between them a little impatiently. Then, with a murmur, Ymir spoke, "But it's too soon."

"Yeah," Historia agreed, chuckling. "It is."

The blond picked herself up and wiped the dirt from her shorts. She stretched her limbs, her arms extending from above her head before relaxing. Historia stood, a few inches away from Ymir's face. She closed the distance between them, kissing her sweetly. Historia could feel the way Ymir melted into the kiss, her lips fitting perfectly against Historia's. Ymir's flavor was intoxicating and it offered a sense of clarity to Historia's mind that she had needed.

"You got a big day today," Historia told Ymir, cradling Ymir's face as she kissed her softly.

"Fuck, I do," Ymir hissed out, acting as if she had forgotten. But Historia knew there was no way that Ymir could forget, even if she tried. It was the reason why Ymir had been awake before Historia's nightmare and why she had suggested a run. Ymir was going to see her little girl today.

"It's okay to be nervous," Historia moved a hand to rest on the back of Ymir's neck. Her other hand found itself on Ymir's shoulder and she was gently stroking Ymir's collarbone. Historia could hear the way Ymir's breath hitched, maybe her touch or the possible fact that Ymir was anxious.

Historia leaned in again, her lips moving against Ymir's easily. Historia's tongue gliding over the seam of her lips. Their movements flowed almost poetically and Historia had to ponder briefly, through the lightning storm of desires if there was any possible way that a person could genuinely be made for another. Historia moaned, feeling Ymir's fingers tug at the waistband and the contact of their skin setting aflame her desperation to be touched even more. Unfortunately, Historia couldn't have them getting heated. Both for their sake and any possible unexpecting passersby.

Ymir reluctantly stopped when Historia pulled away, not forcing herself onto the woman. She ran a hand through her brown hair and puffed with resignation. "Yeah, I'm nervous. Really fucking nervous."

"I get that," Historia replied, wrapping her arm around Ymir's. "I would be too."

Ymir swallowed and nodded in acknowledgment. Ymir laughed lightly, in an effort to fight off her anxiety. "Let's go home and take a shower."

"We can continue there, if you want," Historia teased, squeezing Ymir's arm with affection.

Ymir flushed.

When Marcel found Porco, it was a sight that left him a little defeated. He was already frustrated enough and it felt as if his only option was to give in at this point. He inhaled sharply, making Porco aware of his presence. He was sitting out on the back porch of Zeke's house. Marcel had to wonder if Porco had heard any of their conversation.

"We have to get out of here," Marcel said, his fingers curling into fists. The burning feeling of torn skin climbed up his arm, blood still flowed from her knuckles and fell steadily onto the ground.

Porco didn't reply, lifting the glass bottle of alcohol to his lips and taking a long drink. Her eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes dark with thought. Marcel wished he knew what was going through his head.

"I need your help," He wasn't asking. He was on a time limit after all and he needed the help. As much as he wanted to offer the chance of Porco to be relieved from gathering stuff and throwing it into Marcel's car, it wasn't an option.

Porco, spared him a hard glance, not one of anger or hatred but something cold and distant. Marcel wasn't sure how to take that but then Porco got up and he made the gesture of ready to do whatever Marcel told him to do, making the older brother feel relieved.

"Is your hand okay?" Porco asked, Marcel searching desperately for the slightest bit of worry in his tone.

Marcel nodded, ignoring the burning sting and guiding Porco to his temporary room. They packed in silence and Marcel had enough time to clear his head while they worked to reassess everything.

"You really want to see Historia?"

Porco froze, the question sending tension to run through both of the brothers. His eyes wandered for a moment, resting on Marcel's bloodied hand. Blood had stopped flowing from it and his skin was coated in red. Porco grunted, "Let me wrap that hand for you."

Marcel raised her eyebrows in surprise but showed Porco where the medicine kit was and allowed him to do his work. When Porco securely bandaged Marcel's hand, he squeezed it for a moment then sighed. "Yes, I want to see her."

"I'll take you to her then."

"W-what?" Porco looked at him in clear disbelief. He was already pretty adjusted to Marcel denying him that one request so hearing him give in was a little shocking. Porco swallowed thickly and he closed his eyes, asking quietly, "Are you sure?"

Marcel knew Porco desperately wanted this and his attempt at politeness and consideration of Marcel's feelings was something. Marcel just laughed and he shook his head, putting his face in his hands. "I'm not sure of anything, anymore. But I'll do this for you, even if it's the last thing I do."

The peace Marcel had been keeping was shattered at that moment. He had the power in his hands for so long and then he tipped the scales. Marcel knew what this meant, what this would cause. But in a confession of pathetic defeat, his devotion and lack of purpose are what started it. If people were so sure that Marcel was an idiot, who did anything for a terrible man then he would be that idiot. He laughed again, a hint of his broken soul pouring into the sound before he forced it down and locked it away. He was just so tired.

...

If Ymir didn't have the sort of self-control she had now, she would have stopped at the gas station and bought some cigarettes to fight off her nerves. Anything to keep her from falling apart in an anxious mess.

Ymir had been striving towards this moment for so long and she knew that she shouldn't let her fear conquer her. Ymir had come too far to back down. She was smart enough to be aware of that fact.

She was lucky if anything. Val was giving her this moment, his friendliness offering a solution to something she's worried about for so long. Ymir had to appreciate him. Val was a good father and he had been kind to Ymir when they finally met again.

Val had recommended that they meet at the library. Ymir's daughter loved that place, according to him. Ymir liked the thought of that. Her daughter was fond of a place filled with books. That had to mean something, defining her during her youth and hopefully staying a part of her as she grew.

When Ymir finally made it into the parking lot, she parked far, a corner away. Giving her enough walking distance to hopefully burn the rest of her worries. She sat in her car for a moment and took deep breaths. Her gold eyes traveled for a moment, hoping to not spy Val's car nearby. There was a playground right by the library and there were plenty of kids and their parents occupying it. As Ymir searched through the crowd, she was admittedly relieved that she didn't spy Val. Maybe she was early. That would give her even more time to calm herself.

Ymir turned on her phone to check and she realized that she showed up on time. Well, of course she did. So either Val and her daughter were already here or they would arrive any minute now.

Ymir closed her eyes and exhaled. Feeling the knots in her stomach tighten, feeling nausea form. She let out a growl and hit the side of her head. She had to get a grip. Ymir would prefer that she didn't end up puking around her daughter or just in general.

Her phone pinged, breaking Ymir out of her recovery, and noticed it was a text message from Historia.

Historia

Good luck! You got this! :) ❤

You

Thank you, I appreciate it.

Ymir felt the knots in her stomach untie themselves and a sense of comfortable warmth filled her body. She smiled to herself.

Finally, getting out of her car, Ymir stretched her limbs. She rolled her shoulders and started to head towards the library, at a determined pace. She would have liked to have stayed confident but the moment Ymir caught sight of Val, it withered away. Doubts and worries rushing to the forefront of her mind in a desperate effort to cloud her judgment.

Ymir mustered a strained smile as Val made eye contact and offered one of his softer looks. He seemed sympathetic as if he could tell what was going through Ymir's head and how she was currently feeling. Ymir took some solace in Val's expression. Enough to ease her from trembling and looking like a mess. She didn't want to scare her daughter.

Ymir looked past him, tilting her head slightly, trying to catch sight of her. She couldn't see her and there was guilty relief that pooled into her stomach at the fact.

"Where...where is she?" Ymir asked. It felt like a lump had taken permanent residence in her throat. She shook Val's hand, his firm grasp offering supportive sympathy.

Val extended his other arm to use his free hand to clasp on her shoulder. "She had to use the restroom."

"Oh," Ymir managed to say, rubbing the nape of her neck and shuffling awkwardly.

"It's alright, you know," Val said, crossing his arms and his passionate eyes glistening with slight amusement. "You're only making it worse because of all those thoughts in your head."

"Yeah, well, they won't stop," Ymir admitted, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans. "It's making me feel shitty even though I want to be happy. I should be happy," Her voice broke for a moment. "I'm finally getting to see her."

"You're happy, Ymir. That's why you're worried," Ymir felt herself grow a little envious at Val and how he could just smile so easily. She could only imagine how her poor attempt at a smile looked. Probably creepy and radiating ingenious nature.

"Daddy!"

The youth of the voice was enough to almost have Ymir's knees buckle. She swallowed thickly and braced herself.

Her daughter quickened her pace as she approached them. She quickly latched herself onto Val, grabbing his hand and hiding half her body behind him. She peered past Val, looking at Ymir.

Those eyes. She had her father's eyes. Blue-green, as if she held the Earth in her irises. Accompanied with the world, she shared the facial features of Ymir, freckles placed perfectly along her cheeks and nose. Her hair was a deep brown, reaching past her shoulders.

It felt as if a knife stabbed through Ymir's chest and tore her heart apart. An overwhelming achingly familiar of pain and joy brought tears. But Ymir didn't cry.

"Freyja," Ymir did her best to keep her voice from wavering. To stay stable and not crumble. Ymir let out a brief airy laugh that was more of an exhale of breath she didn't know she was holding. "Hi, sweetheart."

Freyja took a hesitant step forward, still clinging to Val. She looked at Ymir then at Val, as if she was unsure. Val nudged her encouragingly and Ymir appreciated him more than ever at that moment. Freyja walked forward, unlatching from her father, and she said, a little questioningly, "Mom?"

Mom. Ymir had the word echo in her mind and bring insecurity to loop around Ymir and choke her. She wasn't Mommy anymore. She was Mom. That didn't matter. It shouldn't matter.

Ymir crouched down and stretched her arms out. "Yeah, it's me."

The fear of denial was diminished the moment Freyja was in her arms. Ymir wrapped around her daughter, holding Freyja securely as she willed herself to not cry.

And as if Freyja could sense how fragile Ymir was at that moment, she hugged her mother tighter. Keeping Ymir from falling apart in her daughter's arms.

Author's Note: Alright, buckle up, this is a bit of a lengthy note cause I have a lot of thoughts. First, the chapters are just progressively getting longer because I am trying to make up for the fact that y'all have to wait so long for this story to get updated. Next, the first 5 chapters have been replaced with polished versions. The major difference is that in Chapter 5, I changed Ymir/Historia's first encounter because I hated the original version. Don't even know what 2018 me was thinking, smh. I will actually be posting the first 5 chapters on AO3 too because I've been trying to use that platform. Though if any readers want to read everything that's been written so far, they'll have to go here to read the rest of the fic or wait as I slowly update the fic. On another note, I've been recently getting a lot more follows and favorites, so welcome newcomers. Can't help but assume the Season 4 release has encouraged this. Speaking of Season 4, it's definitely reignited my involvement with the series and fandom. Got real bad Ymir/Historia fever again :) And if anyone's a manga reader and caught up, Ch 137 was a pain in so many ways. On a unrelated note, I got pretty busy in January and kinda felt like shit the whole entire month. Only recently been trying to better myself and it's going okay so far. Anyways, thanks for the read and reviews, guys, gals and everyone else. Means the world to me!

Until then, Zouboss.