#somehow i didnt realize the flash would do that

[homogremlin]

i was using my family's old digital camera yesterday and took some mirror selfies to test out the settings. uhh here's the mirror selfies in question

[chuluoyi]

ive got an idea where theres like a school dance and you and satoru go together and you two are slow dancing together until pregnancy nausea gets to you and you get extremely dizzy and almost pass out cause you didnt wanna ruin the moment. AND SATORUS SO WORRIED AAHAHDH i love this idea

it’s during a gala in honor of students’ graduation. you don’t want to miss it because you want to congratulate hakari and kirara in person, so you didn’t tell your husband that you have thrown up 3x prior going together to the venue.

and you really shouldn’t have because halfway through the event, you don’t feel too well anymore.

“you look pale,” satoru whispers in your ear worriedly as you slow dance together. “do you want to rest a bit?”

“no,” you insist. “i’m fine—”

but the second you said that, your vision blurs and you miss a step. and you would really fall if not for satoru’s arms holding you tightly.

“hey—” he looks down at you, discovers your labored breathing and clicks his tongue. “you’re not.”

no one probably notices it, as satoru somehow turns it into a part of the dance step before he sweeps you off your feet. everyone who sees immediately claps their hands and whistles, and he flashes them all a thin smile before whisking you to the infirmary.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks as soon as he lay you on the bed, his piercing blue eyes assessing you. “queasy? have you taken your anti-sickness pill?”

oh. you shake your head, feeling guilty for forgetting it. but you’re surprised when he procures it from his pocket, realizing it. he brings your medication around in case it’s necessary.

he gets you a glass of water and ushers you to down the pill. afterwards, you lay back on the bed and close your eyes, willing the vertigo away.

“you big dummy… you should’ve told me.” satoru strokes your head with a frown. “you can’t wait until you pass out. do you like making me worry?”

“no… i don’t mean to…”

“there are two of you now.” he places an hand on your belly. your bump isn’t visible yet, but it’s really there and he can feel it. he can feel his worry rising again. “what if something happens to you if you don’t tell me anything? how do you think it’ll make me feel?”

you reach out for his hand and squeeze it. “sorry…”

satoru’s heart melts seeing you so vulnerable like this. and he decides you have gotten his point now, so he sighs and presses a kiss on your forehead.

“hmph. forgiven. let’s go back home now. i’ll take care of my two babies.”

[bikwin5]

i played the original 3 dragon quest (warrior) games over the past month so i'm putting my thoughts on them here

dragon quest 1: i did not finish after playing this for about 8 hours. it might have been more, i don't know. time feels irrelevant when playing this title. i wanted to give it a fair shake and i respect yuji horii's idea of wanting to make an rpg simple but i think he made it a bit too simple and the result is a mind numbing experience with rather grating audio. i listened to 2 or 3 wayneradiotv podcast episodes while playing. this does not feel like a real video game, it feels more like a fake tv show drake and josh game. it's reminiscent of a flash game you discover as a kid and get hooked on it for a few hours due to the grindy loop and then never play it again. it's also reminiscent of a lot of mobile phone games where you do nothing but press a button to make numbers go up endlessly so maybe they were really ahead of the curve with this one

dragon quest 2: started off incredibly refreshing compared to the first game, giving you plenty of more options and party members straight off the bat. at first it's pretty straightforward but once you get the boat the direction becomes incredibly unclear. sad to say i was not above using a walkthrough for a lot of it. as much as i like figuring out everything through writing down hints there is a lot of stuff that is truly cryptic, especially finding zahan. the game is already challenging but the last few areas in particular jack up the difficulty so much that after a point it stops being anger inducing and starts being really funny. it's all strangely enjoyable in a twisted way. i actually would say i liked most of this game but i would not recommend playing the original version unless you are a masochist or love to gamble

dragon quest 3: take dq2, give it an actual semblance of balance, make it even larger, and you have this one. having a highly customizable party thrown on you at the start of the game made me miss having specific characters that 2 had but it made for a better gameplay experience. somehow i didnt realize that you could have 4 party members in this one and struggled for the first few hours wondering why i ran out of mp so fast. the beginning isn't actually that hard but then there's a big difficulty jump at the desert, and then the difficulty doesn't really spike anymore until the necrogond cave to the very end. still, dq2 makes this game look very well balanced by comparison. there is a good balance of making you feel powerful and making enemies feel powerful too. i was less privy to using a walkthrough on this one but there was still some things i went to look up especially near the end where i was growing impatient. i made my own map for this one and it took me far too long to realize the world is just earth, which comes with its own baggage of having some strangely colonial themes. game was longer than i expected but overall still pretty good, this is the only one of the original nes 3 i would actually recommend playing but i figure the remakes make things a lot smoother too. i hope the hd2d remakes are good.

[the-nysh]

Maybe it's because they're closer in the manga, but I feel that Saitama is more regretful with himself than pissed off with Genos. We didnt' see his face when he kicked Genos out and we didn't see it either in this chapter when he believes that he has nothing to teach Genos. I think since the MA, but specially after the "glowing" spar, he feels kinda bad for not being a good sensei.

Referring to this part in the new chapter? Where Saitama's drawn with his back turned to us?

Even in the wc (where the paneling's similar) I didn't get the impression he was pissed at Genos really, perhaps more upset at the disruptive to downright destructive lengths Genos will go for his sake--still undeterred to remain Very Close by his side (in this case, rudely stealing his neighbor's apartment) when Saitama believes going that far isn't necessary for what little he can offer him in return. :') Perhaps he regrets how it's escalated to this point of no return, while both struggling (failing) to set personal barriers AND for not knowing how best to help Genos... (He definitely felt bad when he noticed Genos feeling down and failed to communicate any proper 'sensei' encouragement.)

If anything, Saitama was getting more pissed at King this ch for effortlessly wiping the floor with him while simultaneously lamenting his own powerlessness + lack of options (as if Saitama's efforts to improve at gaming were getting dismissed as worthless here, and yet, Saitama didn't realize he was kinda dismissing King's real-world efforts to improve with such a flippant 'solution' in response...I had hoped he'd be more receptive to King's problem in the manga, but it seems 'lifting weights' is still the only advice he can say to friends and visiting acquaintances alike...)

But Saitama's dilemma honestly felt like it paralleled King's situation this ch--where both of them feel stuck and unqualified in a role with such high idolized expectations of them (ie falsely being seen as an amazing teacher or strongest superhero), when they believe they have nothing else of value (with no other option) they can offer. In Saitama's case we know there's more he can teach, and already has taught Genos, that goes beyond the realm he thinks he knows. (For example: temperance, humanity, self-preservation, strengthening of the heart.) And in King's case there's more he can do, and already has done as a hero, that goes beyond the realm of becoming physically stronger. (For example: all his bravery to escort or intervene to save lives, from children to fellow heroes to even Garou at the end of his arc - yes I definitely count it as King stepping in and using his reputation to do the right thing!) But alas, does either character even realize this or know what they've already done? welp...

But the biggest thing - if Saitama didn't like Genos or wanted to cut him out of his life entirely, then we would know, the same way he slams the door in the faces of unwanted visitors. (Surprise: not Flash this time as in the wc, but Fubuki.) The difference is that Saitama is still expectant to welcome Genos into his life (literally, his home), and still wants to do activities with him, so that's pretty significant. Even if he feels horribly unfit to be a teacher for him (after all, muscle training is useless to a cyborg) and regrets how he can't help him the way Genos wants, feeling wholly inadequate to match his earnest expectations and seriousness about this.

But you know, somehow I feel...beyond struggling to be a better 'sensei,' what Saitama really values (and prefers) is his companionship, but struggles how best to communicate that (or how to define what he actually wants) with him beyond their usual set routine. Cause he's tried to set more normal 'personal space' boundaries, and it's not like he's said he doesn't want to be his sensei anymore at all either--even privately to himself, and yet...if Saitama didn't feel bound by the roles they've already established, then what other meaningful (or casual) interactions, towards even a different type of relationship, could he gain beyond that instead? Saitama probably hasn't even considered his other options with Genos or worked it out that far yet...

[ekuns]

had a fucked up dream just now

i was at my old house i grew up in but i didnt clock that at first (bc i dream about being back there a lot so it usually doesnt matter to me) and the lights werent working right. it was late at night so it was also dark outside. i would go to turn on the light in my room and it would be extremely dim to the point where i could vaguely see the room and that's it. i would try to grab my phone and put the brightness on it up to use it as a light but that wasnt working either somehow. i would turn up the brightness to max and instead of being a flash bang like it should, the dimness barely changed.

so then i would go out to the room directly opposite it and turn the light on in there so i could see bc my light was fucked - except that one is the same but worse. all i can end up seeing in there is a tiny bit of the floor in the middle of the room. so then i go to the bathroom for light, it's the same. it's the same everywhere in the house except the kitchen area

in the kitchen the light bulb there is also sparking a bit. and then it comes off, crashing down to the floor, and i have to keep spot away from the glass shards while i can barely see him or them. and then the more fucked part starts happening in which it starts looping those events but with minor differences like sometimes my mom is there, sometimes there's water pooling on the floor in the room opposite mine, sometimes the light bulb has already fallen. these loops take less than 5 minutes and it went on for a while. and as they went on my mental state got worse and i started feeling like when i would start the next loop and be laying on my own bed, someone would be pulling my hair

so then it got even worse which i could never have expected: i realized it was a dream and that i dont even live at that house anymore and that i should just wake up. so what does my subconscious do? changes the dream layout. so im now in my room at my current house... still in the dream. and i cant even get out of bed now. im just stuck in the bed

im stuck in the bed and the pillow seems almost stuck to my head. the loops are still happening but theyre even shorter now, about a minute long. i keep trying to get out of bed, to get up, to even just fall out of bed, anything. it's completely dark aside from the faint glow of my pc screen. nothing is working. i can't get up, i can't wake up. i felt like i was in hell.

i did eventually finally wake up though obviously lol but now i feel super disoriented and kind of shaken up over that

[wontbyers]

btw i would never block a mutual. idk how you follow someone who’s liable to do anything block-worthy unless you aren’t careful about who you choose to follow in the first place, but maybe ive just never followed somebody who did something really egregious out of nowhere? i can’t imagine. the only things i can think of are suddenly showing a bigoted/hateful side u didnt know they had. but i generally follow ppl who are chill and gay so

if my mutuals ever start acting up (posting content from a fanbase i didnt follow them for) i just say “good for them” and keep scrolling, or at most unfollow and hope they dont mind if/when they realize (bc it’s not personal.) but i’ve never had someone turn so annoying or evil in a flash to warrant a block lmao?? even if i thought someone was too negative and killing the mood or somehow got into 1 really big drama i would just unfollow rather than blocking.

if i followed you i’m always gonna remember the good times. all the posts i’ve liked from you, even if it’s offset by stuff i don’t like enough to lead to an unfollow. but i wouldn’t be able to block somebody who’s not a stranger. we once had a symbiotic relationship; if we were cool once, we could be cool again.

(like im just saying it would have to be a direct personal fight or like u sent me something really uncomfortable out of nowhere, in which case u would know why you’re being blocked and wouldn’t need to scramble to find out why or be left wondering in the silence.)

[kisscassette]

someone i used to hang out with was in an accident and died :(

it was shocking. we’ve known each other for a year and a half now and there was a point at the beginning of our friendship where we talked to each other a lot, go out for drinks all the time, all of that. but then, he got busy. i got busy. and im not the type of person to reach out and catch up. and i think he was, too. so i didnt really think much of it.

in that span of time of knowing each other, i think we havent talked for like 70% of it. and out of all the days he had to make conversation with me, he had to do it the day before he died.

whats eating me up, is he had to comment on how i look so i didnt take it well (obviously) and i had this inner anger for him built up. what i havent realized is that he has always been like that. he joked all the time and talked to everyone that way. i think he did that for me as an icebreaker but since its something about my appearance, ofcourse i had to be serious about it! we havent talked for a long time and the first time that we did, it had to be a comment about how i look? and so the conversation was short and that was it.

early morning the next day, he got into an accident and died. seeing pictures of the accident on social media, his body sprawled and lifeless. and bloody. it was disturbing to say the least. i was shaking when i heard the news. because … why? he was an unstoppable force. he always went out with friends and somehow always went home fine. he was loud but he was careful. and as far as i knew, he had never been in a major accident. and when he did, it had to take his life???

it was eerie. i was just starting to think about getting back at him for making me feel bad about how i feel. i had to make him feel bad too, was what i was telling myself. now, i couldnt even think about that. i feel so sorry for his family. he used to talk a lot about his little sister and how much he loved her. we didnt know each other well, but he sure lets everyone know about that one.

and im sure i did not have a huge impact on his life, but since knowing his death, i thought if i had taken his joke as a joke, would things happen differently? if i had also made a conversation and ask about how he’s been, would he have been in a different state of mind, different train of thoughts resulting = him not being in that last moment of his death?

i wonder if he ever thought about his death, that it would be that sudden and tragic. i wonder if he ever was scared of it? or was he always accepting of his fate, whatever it will be. i wonder how he felt when that car hit him. i wonder if he ever felt pain. i wonder if his life flashed before his eyes. i wonder what his last thoughts were. i wonder if he realized he lived a great life, he always made sure he had a good time.

in another universe, i know you are still out there enjoying and having a good time. making plans with friends, loving the new music you discovered, showing of how good u were at singing, being the energy ball that u are, being the comfort of everyone around you.

rest in peace, adrian jake. this one goes out to you.

[sweeterthanthis]

Bucky had his eye on you since he first saw patching up one of the soldiers. For years he made nice with you and he was definitely one of the only soldiers you were comfortable around. He was charming and handsome, but didn't sexualize you.

When the war ended the two of you returned to Brooklyn and you went your separate ways. Yet every night you had vivid dreams about the blue eyed sergeant, so realistic you woke up soaking wet.

Night by night things got more vivid, always waking up with an ache between your legs. You stayed oriented on your work at the hospital but soon you find yourself constantly getting sick. So much so that you went to the doctor, finding out that you were pregnant.

Shocked and dazed you leave the hospital only to run into Captain America. The kind man sees you're flustered and asks if he could walk you home and you agree. You were so in your head, you didn't realize that he was leading you the wrong way.

He walks you into the dimly lit living room where Bucky sits in the couch, smoking a cigarette. Steve places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently.

"I think she's finally ready to be your wife Bucky. Congrats you're having a child."

(Oh Mina, you never learn do you? 😈)

Warnings: Mentions of somnophilia and NONCON, mentions of alcohol, mentions of war, sexual dialogue, period typical misogyny, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 500ish

"Wh-what are you talking about?" You stutter, glancing back and forth between the two men - your hands trembling as you fiddle with your skirt. "I-I haven't seen Sergeant Barnes since the day we got back to Brooklyn."

Bucky smirks at you, taking one final drag of his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray next to him. He looks different somehow. His eyes don't shine quite as bright as they used to. That pure, lighthearted grin was no more.

"I'll leave you two alone. I think you're gonna want some privacy for this," Steve tells you, nodding at Bucky before excusing himself and leaving the room.

You'd never been afraid in his presence before, never felt unsettled or on edge; but something about the way he lets his eyes wander over your body makes you shiver.

"You're gonna look so good when you get bigger," he tells you, rising to his feet and walking towards you with a lilt in his step. You can't hide the confusion on your face. "Don't tell me you don't remember, doll?"

"Go ahead and wound me why don't you," he grins, his fingers reaching for your cheek and feeling the heat beneath your skin. "You made such pretty noises that night. All's I wanted was to catch up. Thought I'd surprise ya. Turn up on your doorstep and have a night cap."

Your brow furrows, bottom lip trembling as you try to keep up with what he's saying, and you can't stop the anxious tears from brimming in your eyes. "What was I supposed to do when you didnt answer? I was worried about ya. Had to make sure you were safe, didn't I?"

Your mind races, but you can't for the life of you piece together what he's talking about. "S'hard to sleep at night these days, right? I know. You had a little too much whiskey. You never could handle your drink. Someone had to help you into bed, doll."

"Ssh, sweetheart. I got you. Let's get you outta these clothes."

Your eyes widen. You remember that dream, and you remember it well. It's one that you looked back on whenever your hand found itself nestled between your thighs lately. It was a dream. Wasn't it?

"You don't remember? I do. I remember the way you begged for it. Told me how good my cock felt inside you. Told me to fill up that gorgeous pussy. What kinda man would I be if I didn't give you what wanted, hmm?"

Images flash through your mind; his hands squeezing at your breasts, your own tangled in his hair - the sound of his voice purring away in your ear.

"Wanted you for so long. Had to have you. So fuckin' beautiful. Prettiest girl in all of Brooklyn."

Before you know what's happening, he's recoiling in shock from the sting of your palm against his cheek. Your jaw wobbles as anger rises within you, but the smirk that spreads across his lips only serves to frighten you.

"Now, don't be like that. You could do a lot worse than a war hero, doll. And now that you're pregnant? Well, not many people take kindly to an unmarried mother."

"How dare y-," you spit, your words muffled by his palm as it covers your mouth. Its not forceful, but you can tell there's threat behind the action, even if it is subtle.

"Can't lie to me and tell me you didn't want it, sweetheart. I remember how wet that pussy was. Fuck, so warm and tight." A lone tear falls from the corner of your eye, caught by his thumb before it can reach your cheek. "It's lonely, isn't it? Life after the war? Holdin' you was the best feelin' I've had in years."

You hate the way your stomach flips at the statement, memories of that night flooding back with each passing second. You do remember. It had all seemed like such a beautiful, vivid dream.

"I'm not gonna be lonely anymore. Not with you and our baby. You're mine now, doll."

A/N: I no longer have a tag list, but if you want to keep up to date with what I post follow my sideblog, @sweetersficlibrary, and turn on alerts to be notified whenever I post something new 💕

[cynettic]

Burning Things with Genshin Impact Characters

Summary - Burning things together, escaping burning buildings, and raiding Hilichurl camps <3 Ahh, the epitome of love.

Pairings - Chaotic Reader x Albedo / Venti / Ayaka / Scaramouche

Warnings - Mentions of fire, alcohol, suggestive themes, and uhm- ✨ c h a o s ✨

A/N - Bro- this is just my mental break after writing 6.9k of smut in my last post ;-; And my next two posts are supposed to be for Genshin women and their smut so… I need some cute fluff before I get into that.

Albedo

“Y/n… calm down.”

Urgent eyes darting over the vicinity of your apartment, you hardly spared the light haired boy a glance. “‘Calm down?’” You asked incredulously, flapping your arms around as if that would solve the issue of smolk. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet, but our house is ‘burning.’” The bits of ash stung your arms, smoke seething against your eyes.

“I’m aware, I’m just asking you to get off the windowsill.”

Looking down at your already prepped foot right on the metal of the only opening the room, you flashed him a glare. “Uhm… no? I’ll have you know I have things to do and places to be, I’m a very important-”

“‘Y/n,’” Albedo interrupted, exasperated. “Please, come here.”

“No!” You shot back, “‘You’ come here, you aren’t going down in flames with your lab experiment. No matter how important it was.”

You could slowly see the patience from Albedo’s face melt away. An incredible feat, it was far too bad you didnt have the time to admire his ticked off face. “And you plan to jump off and break a couple bones?

“Better than death by fire.”

This time, the alchemist simply pointed to the experiment table, unable to form words.

“Yes and? I already know you messed up your experiment.”

“And,” he continued, irritated. “The table is the only ‘damn’ thing on fire. ‘The only thing on fire.’ The entirety of the house is just ‘dandy.’ Now help me put it out.”

You removed your foot of the ledge. “Oh, now that you mention it…”

Albedo put a hand to his head, sigh escaping as he rubbed his temples. “You’re almost worse than Klee… no, scratch that. You’re worse. Klee wouldn't have run away, she has the decency to stick around and out the fire out.”

“I thought it as a life threatening situation!”

“Mhm,” he hummed, displeased. “Whatever you say, get over here.”

Venti

Your drunk figure stumbled across the plain of grass, arms outstretched as you spun around. The wind rushed past your face, cool against the heat that ran through your veins. You felt dizzy, the world spinning in circles around you.

“Hey!” You spun around, foot sliding around the grass as you struggled to keep yourself from falling back. “You- you over there.”

“Yes?” The bard spoke, whisking the alcohol bottle in his hand in circles. He too had chugged a few too many bottles, but nothing to get him as wasted as you were at the moment. “And I do have a name you know- I’m aware you’re drunk, but it still hurts to know you’ve forgotten it~”

Squinting your eyes, you racked your mind for a name. “Oh.. uh…” It took only a moment till the name flashed in your name, and with a giggle, you turned back around. “Venti!”

“Yes?” He responded, this time with a wide grin.

All that stretched in front of the two of you was a wide field of grass, a grand tree, and a hilichurl camp. The two of you were too far away to quickly make it to the tree, and far enough not to arouse any suspicion with the monsters.

Of course your focus was on the hilichurl encampment.

“Look!” You pointed to the wooden pillars perched upright, two or three hilichurls dancing around a fire. “Lets destroy it!”

Venti nearly choked on the beverage in his mouth, swallowing it before he let out a chuckle. “Destroy it?” he repeated bemused, staring at your knocked up state. “I’d be surprised if you managed to make your way there-”

As if to prove him wrong, you started sprinting.

“Uh oh- hey! That wasnt what I meant!!” And he was sent racing after you.

By the time you made it to the camp, the Hilichurls had taken notice of you. All three of them standing up with some kind of weapon in hand. Your joyous laugh sent shivers down their spine, wobbly walk making them back up.

You were ‘scaring’ them.

“C’mere,” you cooed, arms wide. “I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do,” Venti mumbled once catching up to you. Too low for your ears to catch.

When the hilichurls didnt move, you whirled around to grab the vodka from his hand. A high percentage of course, Venti couldnt get drunk on normal wine or too low of a vodka. With a squeak of surprise, he reached for the bottle.

But it was too late.

You’d throw the bottle right at the hilichurls, who dashed away right at that moment. They abandoned camp and sprinted towards the meadow to find some refuge in the trees.

But that wasnt the end of the chaos.

Oh no, the bottle just ‘had’ to spill its contents onto the grass. And well, knock over a torch light stand while it was at it, which meant what? Fire.

“Its burning!”

“Oh dear…”

Venti pulled you away from the camp, sending a gust of wind to pick up the remainder of whatever was burning and put it out. “What am I gonna do with you…” he whispered in a groan. You happily skipped alongside him, giggling at his remark. “My little menace.”

He made a mental note not to bring you to the tavern again.

Side note - No Hilichurls were harmed during the raid-

Ayaka

“‘I’m saving her.”’

Hanging on a tree just beside the Kamisato residency, you and Thoma crouched on a single branch, tipping from side to side to regain balance before falling. That wasn’t the main issue, because just beside you was Ayaka, trapped in a burning building as she frantically tried to put the fire out.

“I’m her bodyguard,” Thoma beside you seethed, pushing you lightly to get you to move. “Therefore its my jobs to protect her, move.”

You shoved back, “And she’s the girl I love, got an issue with that?” You stuck your tongue out, “Or maybe you’re just ‘jealous’, wanna play hero and get her to fall in love? Too bad, you know we’re a thing, get over it.”

“Do you ‘want’ me to hurt you?”

“No thanks, save that for your new girlfriend and your bsdm kinks.”

“HEY- I DONT HAVE-”

But you’d already jumped, grabbing with both hands onto the window ledge and hoisting yourself up. The smoke hit you, burning your eyes and making your nose scrunch up in distaste. If this was your first reaction- how was Ayaka?!

You looked around, spotting the girl trying to put out the fire. It wasnt a big one, in fact it was just the cooking stove and a tinge of the carpet was on actual fire. The rest was just too much smoke, and a coughing Ayaka spilling water over everything.

Racing over, you began stomping on the flames of the carpet. Noticing you, she put her attention on the stove, and the two of you managed to clear away all the fire in no time.

It was when she put her hand over her mouth to cough that you realized you needed to get her out of there. Picking her up with ease, you cradled her in your arms as you dashed to the window. You didnt want to know what the rest of the house, and if there was any more fire, Thoma could put it out right?

Unfortunately for you, that wasnt even your main worry as you made it to the window. Water had somehow made it just below the windowsill, and instead of jumping out with precision, you slipped you with Ayaka in your arms, screaming out in surprise.

So you did all you could do, tuck her in your arms with your back to the ground and hoped you didnt die.

“‘Umph’- holy you’re heavy.”

You weren’t dead but…

‘Being in Thoma’s arms is worse.’

His face said the same, so he dropped you and instead held Ayaka in his arms. You watched as his face morphed into one of worry and compassion, “Princess- are you alright?”

“I was the one who caught her!” You blurted from your position on the ground, stumbling up to stand.

“And I caught both of you,” he corrected, flashing her a grin before giving you a look of distaste. “By accident, it was by pure luck that you happened to be holding onto her.”

You flashed him the middle finger, “Well your jobs done, saved the day, now fuck off.”

“‘You’ fuck off.”

“You have no reason to be here.”

“And leave Ayaka with an incapable fool? How did you slip out of a ‘window?’”

“Water you dumbass, now let go of her before I beat the shit out of you-“

“Ha- I’d like to see you try.”

Meanwhile, Ayaka rest cradled against Thoma’s chest, a look that your bickering was getting to her, and that she was seriously getting ticked off.

“Can you both just ‘shut up?’”

Scaramouche

Everything was ‘burning.’

Scarlet flames licking the wooden planks, crackling as splintered logs came crashing down and silenced by the background screams. Chaos strewn from side to side, a contrast from the normal pace of your footsteps, the calm collected look on your face.

“That was fun,” you simply stated to the boy beside you, squeezing his hand. “We should do it again some other time.”

He squeezed your hand back, a gesture far beyond him. However, he didnt reply, just walking alongside you with your hands interlocked and casually walking away from the crime scene.

Side note - you could really tell I got hit by writers block on the last one ;-;

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Tiny Prince, Crumpled Dreams

Prompts: Hi! I just wanted you to know that your Roman angst fics are amazing, they're really painful and they're lots of fun to read. I dunno if youre taking requests but if you are, could you do a fic where Roman traps himself in a unending nightmare as punishment for hurting Thomas and making the sides hate him, even though they dont. When the sides find Roman in bed upset and not waking up they have to manually wake him up themselves somehow. And then DLAMP hurt/comfort cuddles happen afterwards - transformationloveb

In case prompts are still open, would you maybe consider writing a roceit angst fic where after the events of POF, Roman doesn't use Janus' name and instead calls him Deceit because he thinks he doesn't deserve to use his name (which Janus had given as a sign of trust), but Janus, who was feeling guilty about the whole situation thinks it's a way of mocking and slighting him? Misunderstandings abound until Janus finally confronts Roman and then they start realizing what happened and it turns into sort of a hurt/comfort, with both of them comforting each other. Anyway, I love your fics and I think you're an incredible writer! - residentfangirl2104

Idk if you're taking prompts but I have one if you are! ehhehehe... Maybe there are some of Romans scenes that Thomas cut from the 5 year anniversary video. Because Roman freaked out on camera and later asked him to cut them out OR Thomas cut some that Roman liked out because he didnt like them but oh no, Roman's feelings are now crushed... cue the other sides finding the cut scenes. Angst. HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND DRINK SOME WATER *Throws a water bottle in your general direction* - anon

Hi! If you're still taking prompts for Sanders Sides, I'd love to see your take on "feeling small" being uncomfortably literal, like shrinking-to-Borrower-size literal. I adore your writing, like, you're up there with SoDoRoses of Love and Other Fairy Tales fame for my favorite Sanders Sides writer. Thank you for sharing your work with us.~ - amaranthinepaladin

your stories are always so good! could i possibly suggest one where roman keeps his dreams in a drawer to look at when he's sad (I got this idea from peter pan but he does already have several things like it in your stories and you do love that roman angst) - impossiblysporadiccreation

First off… your work is absolutely incredible! I can’t tell you how many hours of sleep I’ve tossed aside to read it, every time you post a new fic it absolutely makes my day! Secondly, I have but one simple request, I need Roman to suffer, I simply cannot get enough angst and you do it so well, I mean I love him but at the same time… you know how it is - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: roman traps himself in a self-depricating nightmare, nothing explicit

Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 5205

Thomas has lots of dreams.

Roman's job is to take care of those dreams, look after them, do everything he can to nurture them and make sure they grow up to come true one day. But the world isn't kind to dreams, not when they struggle to exist outside of a piece of paper tucked into the drawer of a desk.

...nightmares, though. Nightmares are easy.

So when everything goes wrong and dreams seem impossibly out of reach, Roman reaches for a nightmare he won't wake up from.

“Roman! Roman!”

“Why isn’t he waking up?”

“I don’t know, what—is he still breathing?”

“I’ve got a pulse!”

“Roman!”

———

Thomas has lots of dreams. 

When Roman was—well, when all of them were younger, including Thomas, those dreams would swell and swell and swell into big golden bubbles, floating to the top of Roman’s room. Sometimes he wouldn’t even go to sleep at night, just lying on his bed and staring up at them. The light would bounce around the room and fill it with warm colors, flashes of images of lights on a stage, of walking red carpets, or working on movies that would send them to stardom, or any number of things. How could you go to sleep when something like that was right in front of you?

Then Thomas would be up the next day a little groggy and unfocused and Roman would remember that yes, he had to sleep in order to dream. 

Now that they’re older, the dreams no longer bubble up with such frequency. Instead, Roman keeps them in the drawer in his desk. 

Some of them add themselves to big folders, making the papers crinkle as they shifted together. Some of them were brand new, sitting neatly off to the side in another stack, waiting patiently to be sorted through after everyone was awake. And some of them were on just scraps of paper, jotted down with an impatient hand and tossed inside. 

Roman would sit and go through them at the end of each day, sorting away the ones that could be added to files, which ones needed to be made new, and which ones could be tossed away. Not in the trash, no, but into the unsorted piles, just in case. 

The drawer didn’t have its own compartments, but he didn’t mind. Dreams weren’t supposed to be tightly constrained, they were just supposed to be…guided every once in a while. To make sure they didn’t clash with each other. Especially since Logan and Thomas liked to sit and think together for a long time, sometimes they’d come ask Roman for a file and it wouldn’t do to have the files mixed up. 

…and it wouldn’t do for Roman to accidentally give them his file either.

———

“What happened? Why is he like this?”

“Stay with us, Roman, don’t go anywhere.”

“Wake up, Roman! Why isn’t he waking up?”

———

Roman knows he dreams for Thomas. He doesn’t dream for himself. He can’t. That’s not how his role works. He doesn’t create for himself, he creates for Thomas. 

He learned that long ago, when they’d told him he needs to create good dreams for Thomas, the right dreams for Thomas, ones that would be useful to him and help him be a good person. So he learned that he’s only allowed to be happy when Thomas is happy with his dreams and so he needs to learn how to make them right. 

But sometimes Roman has dreams that aren’t for Thomas. 

When he let that slip, Patton’s eyes had widened and Logan had been quick to explain that it was alright, that was his job, to think of ideas, but they didn’t all have to be good. That wasn’t how having ideas worked. 

(It should be, Roman had thought, that’s what I’m supposed to do.)

So all of the ideas that weren’t for Thomas went in their own folder. Where Roman could look at them and keep them separate and maybe, just maybe, if he found something that could work as a dream for Thomas, he could workshop it into something for Thomas to dream. 

The keyword there was ‘maybe.’

Thomas had his own dreams. Thomas had his own things that he wanted to dream. And Roman was Roman, so he helped make Thomas’s dreams his. And he kept his own dreams separate, because that is what he was supposed to do. 

And when he wasn’t dreaming, when he couldn’t dream, or when his hands started to fade again because he couldn’t believe in himself, he would go find his folder and hunker down under his blankets and he would read about his dreams. 

Sometimes, if he were lucky, he could read a few of the words and close his eyes and have the dream again. Or at least he could lose himself in it enough to forget everything, just for a little while, to disappear into the aether of what it was to be Roman who could dream until he could come back and be himself. 

To lose oneself in the unreality in order to touch the real again. 

When he couldn’t deliver the right ideas for videos, he would lose himself in dreams. 

When he couldn’t suggest the right words for the songs they would sing, he would scan the words until he was so swollen with them that he had to close his eyes to let them free. 

When he couldn’t do his job to make Thomas happy, he curled shaking hands around the dreams and imagined he could.

———

“Alright, Roman, thanks for filming with us today.”

“Oh, but of course! After all, you can’t make a five-year anniversary without me! I am one of the Core Sides, after all!”

“…yeah, buddy, you sure are.”

“Sorry, is that too much?”

“No, no, I mean, it’s in character with what the viewers will be expecting, so…”

“Okay. Got it.”

“Is it gonna be too much for you? This is supposed to be a more serious episode, so I’m sure you could tone it down if you wanted to.”

“No, no, that’s the role we’ve—I’ve built up to, so we can’t have me breaking character here.”

“Alright. Ready?”

“Act One!”

———

Thomas is upset again. And it’s his fault. 

He…they’d worked so hard for the callback! That audition had been stellar, they’d done so well, and the director had even mentioned that they’d been excited for him to do a screen test the next time! 

So of course, he’d been a little overwhelmed to look at the schedule to make sure they didn’t have anything else going on, but come on! It was an Alfred Hitchcoppolucas movie! 

…so yeah, maybe he’d been a bit quick to dismiss the fact that they’d made up their minds to go support Lee and Mary Lee and implied that it would be a waste of time compared to the chance to be in a movie, but…

…and maybe he’d been a bit too quick to speak for Thomas because he wanted to go so badly…

…and maybe he wanted to listen to Deceit because he was agreeing with him…

…even though that’s what happened last time…

…and everyone was saying Deceit was bad…

…but that’s what happened last time with Virgil! Thomas didn’t like Virgil, had even gone so far as to say he hoped and dreamed to get rid of his Anxiety, and what was Roman supposed to do? Roman was supposed to help Thomas achieve his hopes and dreams! And here Thomas had been, explicitly telling him what his hopes and dreams were!

But now Virgil was here to stay and Roman didn’t actually dislike Virgil, and—and if they acted that way with Virgil, they should act like that with Deceit, right?

…right?

“Ooh, I'm afraid that's wrong. It's actually spelled W-R-O-A-M-M-I-N.”

Roman shudders, running his hands over his shoulders to make sure he’s still real. He is Roman. That’s his name, he spelled it correctly, he is here, he is what he is supposed to be. He blinks a few times at his desk drawer and shakes away the last vestiges of Deceit’s voice. 

Shaking fingers reach for the lock and twist, opening the drawer and reaching in for his file. He pulls it out, pushing the drawer shut and walking over to his bed. His shoes land at the edge of the bed as he crawls in, tucking the file under his chin. 

He looks down at the piece of paper in his hands. The words Psycho Godfather Wars II are just visible amidst the tear stains. He opens the folder and slides it inside, closing his eyes and pulling the blanket up over his head. 

He’d been wrong. He sent Thomas to the wedding because that was the right thing to do. He didn’t fight for the callback that everyone had said was so unlikely that they would win because it was the right thing to do. He didn’t bother trying to listen to Deceit and instead listened to Patton because it was the right thing to do. 

…it was the right thing to do. 

So why, Roman thinks as his breaths turn slowly to sobs, does it feel like this?

———

“We’re losing him!”

“Roman? Roman, you’ve got to fight, okay? We need you to stay with us.”

———

“Roman? You here, buddy?”

“What? Yes, yes, sorry, I got distracted. Where were we?”

“Uh, let’s see…ah, yeah. Okay, so how are you feeling about what arc your character’s gone on so far?”

“Ah, yes, my character arc! Truly, the most defining aspect of a story, how you know things have changed, adventures have been had! And, honestly, what an adventure we’ve had over these five years, haven’t we Thomas? We’ve gone on dates, talked about old boyfriends, heck, even found a new one!”

“Well, Nico and I—“

“Oh, I know, I know, it’s too soon, but you can’t blame me for hoping!”

“That is your job.”

“Exactly!”

“…you didn’t answer the question, Roman.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No, you just…kinda talked about what character arcs are.”

“Ah. Well, uh…”

“You gotta speak up, buddy, I don’t think the mic got that.”

“…we haven’t gotten to mine yet, have we?”

“Huh?”

“Well, we’ve had…Virgil’s arc, then we’ve started—mostly through Patton’s, and we’ve introduced some new characters, but I…”

“…you’re saying you don’t have an answer for this question?”

“Sorry. You can cut that out, I think that opening bit can serve as a pretty good cut for someone else.”

“Sure.”

“Moving on?”

———

He knew the wedding would be bad and so he hid. He hid under his blankets with the file tucked close to his chest and his eyes squeezed shut, trying to lose himself in a dream, in something else, just to get away from the way the callback dream burns his hands. But the loneliness wormed its way under the covers and up through his fingers, finding some soft part of his brain to burrow into and make itself at home. 

“Hey. You okay, buddy? You look real sad in this photo I just took. Don’t worry, I’ll crop you out.”

Roman winced, anxiously ripping open the file and scanning it for something, anything, even the stupidest thing to lose them in, to get them out of here, to let them stop hurting here and now, just—just to make it go away. Make it not real. 

But he was real. 

This was real. 

This wasn’t a dream. 

And it dragged Roman through by his ankles, forcing his limbs up by puppet strings and grabbing his mouth so hard there was blood in his smile. 

When Thomas arrived home, he sprung up right away, trying to say something, anything to make it better, but then he remembered. 

This was his fault, so he’s better off staying quiet. So he stays quiet. 

That’s…that’s right.

———

“How do you feel about, uh, talking a bit more about the wedding?”

“Don’t say that word in front of me!”

“…you already used that, bud.”

“Oh, did I? My apologies, um, give it to me again.”

“Are you sure? We don’t…have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, you know the fans will be upset or at least confused if we don’t mention it at all.”

“Yeah, but I can talk about it with the others.”

“Tt, and get what? Patton isn’t going to change his mind, Logan doesn’t want to talk about it anyway, and Virgil and Remus weren’t even there.”

“What about Janus?”

“…what about him?”

———

Roman collapses to the ground, panting and groaning as another bruise opens up on his ribs. 

“Oh, Roman, thank god you don’t have a mustache.”

He throws his head back, gritting his teeth against the pain. 

“Otherwise, between you and Remus…”

A wordless yell escapes his throat as an ice-cold fist plants itself into his stomach. 

“…I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is.”

As tears slip from the corners of his eyes, he regrets ever telling Remus he understood what it was like to have your body decide it didn’t want to be real anymore. 

Roman grunts, heaving himself onto the other side as another smattering of bruises emerge. The pain doesn’t waver, only intensifies, as the words echo back and double over on themselves. He squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the burn as the tears slip saltwater into open wounds, and tries, tries, tries to get away from the pain. 

It’s no use. 

Other wounds, older wounds on the inside add their input as he writhes there. Whispers of wrong, wrong, wrong, and broken promises, and empty words, and loveless lies. A bone-crushing disappointment that makes him want to clutch his hands to his chest, a sick sense of rejection that makes his throat loosen just enough to scream, and the terrible silence of…of…

“I thought I was your hero.”

He thought he was doing the right thing. 

“I thought I was your hero.”

He thought this was what Thomas wanted. 

“I thought…hero.”

He thought…

“I thought…”

He…

———

“Well, for starters, do you want to tell me why you can’t say his name?”

“…I can say his name, Thomas.”

“Okay, fine, why you won’t say his name?”

…

“Take your time, it’s okay.”

“…what right do I have to say it?”

“What?”

“He revealed his name to us, Thomas. To you. That was—that was the most vulnerable we’ve ever seen him, do you know how much trust that took? To do something like that? To make himself that powerless for even a moment?”

“…it sounds like you do.”

“Yeah, because I’ve played it over and over so many times I can practically do it by heart now.”

“Wait, what?”

“…cut that out.”

———

The first time Roman trapped himself in a nightmare, it was an accident. 

Thomas had seen a trailer for a horror movie and Roman hadn’t been able to stop looking at it. Couldn’t stop seeing the darkness getting closer and closer, couldn’t keep the feeling of dread from taking root in his chest and pressing against his ribs. 

Remus had been the one to find him, shaking him awake and scolding him that he’s the one that’s supposed to be giving Thomas nightmares, not Roman! Roman had blinked awake, eyes teary, mouth panting, and Remus had taken one look at his face and promptly wrapped him up in a hug, muttering something about keeping squishy little brothers safe. 

The second time Roman had trapped himself in a nightmare, it was an experiment. 

He didn’t know he could do it, it just…happened. Thomas had a bad dream, probably due to how loudly Virgil and Remus had been fighting with Patton over something and Logan had huddled outside his door to make sure he was alright. Roman had said he was, sending him away, only for a crumpled scrap of paper to appear in the desk. He’d looked at it, mouth dropping open in horror as he realized what it was. 

But he hadn’t been able to stop reading. 

The words had swallowed him whole, drowning him in a sea of letters that opened the door to the unreality and sent him spiraling down, down, down where he would never be found again. He only managed to claw himself out of it in time for Thomas to wake up when he’d spotted a gap. 

He hadn’t closed the desk drawer. 

He burst from it into his room, crumpling the page up and locking the desk drawer tight, scrambling away to catch his breath. His chest had been on fire, his limbs aching and numb, his face wet with tears. 

It was over, but he…he figured out what it was. 

The third time he trapped himself in a nightmare, it was on purpose.

———

“He’s fading again, we need to wake him up now!”

“I don’t know how! Has this ever happened before?”

“Roro, you—you gotta let us help you, please, you—you have to—“

“Remus, are you sure this worked last time?”

“It did! I don’t know why it’s not now!”

“Roman, please, wake up, wake up!”

———

“Okay, okay, I will, but…can you at least answer me? Even if it’s not going in?”

“You’re not going to move on until I do, are you?”

“I mean, I will if you really don’t want to answer…but I think you do.”

“When did you get so perceptive?”

“Five years, Roman, that’s a lot of time.”

“…yeah, I guess.”

“So…what did you mean?”

“Thomas…I know I’ve…been the bad guy.”

“What? No, no, you haven’t, Roman, you’ve—“

“Let me finish, please?”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright, I just…hhh, I have…I have been the reason a lot of things have happened recently, if not directly, then…at least I’ve had some big role.”

“Roman, it’s not like we have a big cast here, everyone has.”

“Thomas, I’m the one who sent you to the wedding. I’m the one who decided it was a good idea to try and lie to Joan. I’m the one who pushed you until Remus showed up.”

“Roman—“

“I’m the one who mocked Dec—the one who ruined and hurt someone when they were the most vulnerable.”

“…Roman, that day was hard on everybody. You’re not the only one who hurt someone.”

“No? I’m the only one who actively did something that I knew was going to hurt. I’m the one who pressed ‘ignorant,’ I slashed Logan, and I…well, we all know how I left that video.”

“…I…”

“It’s okay, Thomas, you can say it. I’ve accepted it too.”

“No, that’s not it, I—wait, you what?”

“…Thomas, I can’t say his name. I—I haven’t earned it. He offered that as a sign of trust, and I—well, I did a great job of proving why I don’t deserve it.”

“But you—he—he hurt you too, Roman, I know he did—“

“And? He didn’t use that hurt to deliberately make me feel like the worst person in the world!”

“…isn’t that what happened right after you…said what you said?”

“Yeah, right after I proved why I shouldn’t be trusted with something like that?”

“…yeah.”

“Yeah.”

…

“…look, I’m not—I don’t dislike him. I don’t. I…he’d be a better main cast member than I would.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait, Roman—“

“Come on, Thomas, you’ve seen the fans. They love his character, if not as a person, then as a character. They went crazy for his arc, they eat up every single interpretation they can, they—god, have you seen how much content is about him?”

“…yeah, but they love you too, Roman.”

…

“…sorry.”

“It’s not your fault I can’t believe you.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, Thomas, that’s…that’s mine.”

“…so what do we do?”

“There isn’t much we can do. I…I have to work on earning his trust, we still have a show to do and we have arcs planned, it’ll be worse if we throw them off the rails now. We just have to—I just have to get my shit together.”

“Don’t let Patton hear you say that.”

“Then I guess you’d better cut all of this out and put it where no one can find it.”

———

Remus’s nightmares send you deep into unreality. They bent the shadows to their will and drowned you in the worst version of what if, what if, what if? You got caught in swirls and swirls of the worst your imagination could come up with, taunting you with how deeply they could pull you in and make it impossible to find your way out. 

That’s why Logan was so good at pulling you out. It wasn’t real, you could ground yourself in that. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t hurt you, it was just in your head. 

Roman’s nightmares hurt because you know they’re unreality. 

You are not important. Only in the unreality are you important. 

You are not kind. Only in the unreality are your efforts actually appreciated, are they worthwhile. 

You are not wanted. Only in the unreality are you wanted. 

Only in the unreality can you walk among them like they’re your friends, your family, and not be so small that they could crush you beneath their weight. 

Only in the unreality would they care enough to find you when they haven’t seen you in days, enough to break down your door out of worry. 

Only in the unreality would they desperately run to Thomas to ask what’s wrong, only then would Thomas show them the footage he promised to delete. 

But this is not unreality. 

This is real.

———

“Roman,” someone is calling, “Roman, please.”

“He’s—he’s moving! Look, I saw his hand move!”

“Roman, Princey, can you hear us?”

“It moved again, Roman—“

“Roro, wake the fuck up!”

Roman’s eyes creak open slowly, moving around to drag his blankets over his head. The blanket won’t move. He tugs it harder. 

“Yes, Roman, it’s alright, we’re here, we won’t leave, you’ve got me.”

“Logan, bring him closer to the desk, we don’t want him to fall.”

“At this rate, he won’t, not with the grip he’s got.”

“Awful strong for a little guy, isn’t he?”

“Roro?” Remus sounds close. “Roro, can you hear me?”

Roman blinks. And blinks. And blinks. 

“R-Remus?”

Remus’s giant face splits into a grin. “Oh, thank Kraken tentacles, you’re okay.”

“He’s about two inches tall,” comes Virgil’s voice from over—oh, he’s in Logan’s hand—wait, he’s what?

“Roman,” Logan’s voice says sharply, “Roman, hold still, I don’t want to drop you.”

Roman freezes, then slowly looks down at his hands. He’s…he’s clutching a watch band. A watchband where the face of the watch is almost as big as he is. He’s being cradled in…

“Easy,” Logan soothes, bringing his other hand up to hold Roman more securely, “I won’t drop you. Just let me set you down, alright?”

“Make sure he’s got something from one of us to hold onto,” Remus says as Logan eases him onto the desk, “otherwise he’ll think we’re leaving.”

That is precisely the bolt of fear that shoots across Roman’s mind as Logan's hands start to move away, but then Remus is jumping onto the desk and sliding his own palm down to him. 

“Jesus Remus, don’t crush him!”

“I know, I know.” He softens his voice and leans down. “Hey, Ro-Bro, you feeling small?”

Roman just nods dumbly.

“That’s okay, you’re okay, do you wanna come here and hold onto me?”

Roman struggles to stand up but he—

“Whoa!” Virgil dives forward and holds his hands near the edge of the desk as Roman wobbles dangerously. “Calm down, Princey, you’ve—well, you’ve been asleep for who knows how long and you’re tiny, take it easy.”

“I—I—“

“Shh-shh-shh,” Logan murmurs, bending down so Roman can see him, “it’s alright, Roman, you’re okay. You’re just small.”

Roman looks around, trying to figure out what happened, why he’s like this, when his eyes land on the open desk drawer and the crumpled-up piece of paper.

Remus follows his gaze and his eyes widen. 

“Oh, Roro…”

“What?” Virgil stands up quickly. “What is it?”

Remus swallows with difficulty, picking Roman up as gently as he can and cupping him against his chest. “It’s okay, now, Ro, we’ve got you, you’re okay.”

“Remus, what’s happening?”

“Roman trapped himself in a nightmare,” Remus explains in a quiet voice, “and he’s…he’s having trouble coming out of it.”

“…he imagined he was small?” 

“No, Emo, he—he’s—“ Remus lets out a frustrated noise. “He’s done this because he feels bad about everything that’s been happening and he’s made himself feel small.”

“…so the stuff that we watched, that was…real?” Logan’s face pales. “Oh, dear…”

“Is he awake?”

“Is he alright?”

“Whoa,” Remus growls as Patton and D—someone else slams through the door, “easy, you two, don’t freak him out.”

Patton doesn’t pay much heed to the warning and bustles over, letting out a wounded noise at seeing Roman curled up and clutching Remus’s sash, his hands flying to his mouth. 

“Oh, Roman, kiddo, I’m so sorry.”

“P-Patton?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me, I’m right here.” He reaches out a trembling hand and carefully pats Roman’s back. “It’s okay.”

Roman shudders at the warmth of it, letting Remus relax his grip enough to set him in his lap. He looks up at the sea of concerned faces and tries to find the words to explain what’s happening. Or ask them to explain what’s happening. 

…or maybe this isn’t real either. Maybe he’s still—

“Hey, nuh-uh,” Remus says, gently tugging on his shirt, “you’re awake now, Roro, you’re here with us.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. See?” Remus gives him the gentlest prod to his stomach. “Real. Right here.”

“Then why am I still sm—small?”

“You’re overwhelmed, little one,” Logan says softly, “and you’ve—well, from what it sounds like, you’ve been trapped in a nightmare for at least a week. It might take a while for everything to…wear off, so to speak.”

“Come on, Roro,” Remus says, scooping him up again, “let’s get you to your bed, that might help.”

Roman clutches Remus’s sash and the others give them a wide berth as Remus sets him down on his bed. As soon as he does, something bubbles in his chest and he gasps. 

“There,” Remus murmurs, “let’s get you out of there, huh?”

“What—why—“

“Unreality,” Remus says as the others crowd around, trying to ask questions, “it’s the stuff we use to make dreams. If you spend too long in it, you can—well, it can get stuck to you. Then you gotta find a tether or something to pull you back out.”

“And in this case…” Virgil touches the covers. “It’s Roman’s bed?”

“This is where you come when you’re done, isn’t it, Roro?”

Roman nods, too busy trying to worm his way under the covers. 

“Oh, shit, I gotcha—there,” Remus’s voice grows muffled as he drapes the blanket over him, “now you just stay under there for a second, Roro, you’ll be okay.”

Roman closes his eyes and tries. Tries to be here, tries to be real, tries—but the unreality clings to him and he can’t. It’s too—it’s too perfect. This sounds like something that he would break just because he could and he can’t believe this. It’s too close to what he wants. 

Then there’s a soft murmur and a hush falls over the room. Roman stills, trying to figure out what’s going on, before a gentle weight touches the blanket over him. 

“Sweetie,” someone murmurs, and Roman’s eyes shoot open, “sweetie, I’m not sure if you can hear me, or if…you can tell, but I don’t have my gloves on right now.”

Something in Roman’s chest burns. 

“I saw the footage, sweetie,” the voice continues, “I…I’m so sorry.”

No. No, this…this can’t be real. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” A sniffle. “And I definitely didn’t mean to hurt you like this.”

Roman’s body starts to tingle. 

“It’s not your fault, Roman, I promise. You don’t have to blame yourself like this, or punish yourself like this.” They swallow heavily. “Or…or for what I did to you.”

He wouldn’t imagine this. He wouldn’t dare. 

“You can use my name if you want to, Roman. I promise.”

“J—“ He chokes. 

“Yes, sweetie, it’s okay.”

“J-Janus?”

“Yes, sweetie, it’s me, I’m right here, why don’t you shake off the last of the nightmare so we can take care of you?”

“You’re—you’re really here?”

A soft chuckle. “Come on up here and see for yourself.”

———

The desk drawer slides shut with all its papers, except a crumpled piece of paper that lies in the trash can.

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[teeth--eater]

Hm. I think it is time for some unfinished Ranboo lore. I was just doing a writing warmup but I dont think I'm gonna finish it so here's ranboo! Also! This is meant to take place after Ranboos Interlude, so like tiny baby spoiler warning. RANBOO BACKSTORY UNDER THE CUT

aslo big warning for disassociation

The spoiler is just ranboo and Tommy interacting but I think everyone knew that was gonna happen anyway.

----------------------

There are good days and there are bad days.

Ranboo knows his power comes at a lofty price, but he dosent always feel it. He sees it in others, or at least he had when he had been around other enderians. The way their eyes would glaze over and theyd stop talking in the middle of their sentences, the way the ones who spent more time around the Void would go catatonic for days at a time.

With knowledge comes power. With power comes risk. And End, what a risk it was.

If Ranboo had a choice at all, he wouldnt have Seen. Ever. He was perfectly content with his magic locked away inside his chest, smiling and friendly and whole. He had seen his neighbors go through the Seeing when they reached twelve cycles, and they came back different. Hollowed. Speaking in hushed tones to others who had Seen, giving him blank stares when he asked how the ceremony went.

He didnt want to be like them. He didnt want to lose himself.

He woke up on the dawn of his twelfth year to his mother standing over his bed, somthing glinting in her eye. Ranboo had wondered, briefly, what she was like before she had Seen. When her short black fur had been snow-white like Ranboo's.

She took him to the door where a trio of guards walked him to the Well Of the Void, circled with the Elders. They gave him empty smiles when he approached. Ranboo could hear the Void whispering as he walked closer, and dread curled in him. He lunged away from the endlessness, shrieking and clawing.

He wonders if things would have been different if he had just let it happen.

As much as he didn't want to See, he couldn't refuse. Literally. He was compliant only because they held him down.

Once they actually shoved him into the Well of the Void, that was when he began thrashing in earnest. He couldnt move with the hand holding his head down, but luckily, or perhaps unluckily depending on how you look at things, his magic was unleashed, and he disappeared in a zap of purple.

Ranboo reappeared lying on his back several feet away, twitching and gasping. The Elders thought him dead until he managed a weak keen.

He hadn't completed the ritual, and yet his powers were unleashed. Hence his...markings.

From that moment on, he was singled out. He had somehow managed to fail in something that should be End Given for his kind. Only half-marked. An abomination. A degenerate.

He was lucky to escape with even half his mind. It could have been so much worse.

He keeps telling himself that.

But today is one of the bad days.

He wakes up and isnt... there. He can recognize that he's floating, but cant bring himself to the surface no matter how hard he tries.

Time passes, Ranboo dosen't know how long hes been sitting in his bed, staring at the wall. His eyes can't focus long enough to read the clock.

Eventually, there is a pounding on his door, and Tommy is shouting through it.

"Get up bitchboy it's time for breakfast!" The human bellows. Ranboo dosent so much as twitch. He tries to get up, but his body won't respond to his commands. Tommy shouts something else, and Ranboo cannot respond. His mind starts to slip further and soon he cant even understand what Tommy is saying.

He keeps trying to tug himself back up into his own body, but he can't. Hes lost somewhere in his own head and he cant get out. His door opens and a human peeks their head in, looking confused. By all accounts, Ranboo should be panicking. One of the universe's most deadly predators is in his room, but he cant bring himself to be afraid. The human's face triggers a feeling of safety, for some odd reason. Perhaps it's one of their lesser-known hunting techniques, but Ranboo can't shove away the feeling that the human wont hurt him.

So he lets the human come closer, walking to his bedside slowly, head tilted in the human way of expressing confusion.

"-boo? Ranboo?"

Oh that's him. How does the human know his name? Oh well, whatever the reason, Ranboo should at least try to answer.

He tries to open his mouth, but cant manage more than a weak hum. The human perks up slightly, and starts speaking at a rapid fire pace that Ranboo cant follow in his current state.

The human seems to realize this, because they grab his hand and squeeze. Not enough to hurt, though Ranboo doubts he can feel pain so deeply in his own mind.

"-go get Phil." The human says, sounding concerned. Ranboo dosen't recognize the name, but it brings up flashes of feelings, not quite memories. Safety, catharsis, freedom. He doesn't stop the human from leaving, maybe they will bring the safe feeling back with them.

Time passes, and Ranboo drifts weightlessly. Feeling for all the world like his soul is not in his body.

There are footsteps, two of them, one pounding and the other clicking. The door was left open, so the two people these footsteps belong to enter with no issue. The human is back, and behind him another creature, an elytrian, clicking worriedly at him. Ranboo wants to greet them, but he cant do anything but stare blankly.

--------------------

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter IV

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, violence, homophobia

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) and travis make up (ish), (y/n) gets hurt again (you really shouldn’t be surprised), larry gets a little moody (i don’t think he likes (y/n) very much), sal makes a move on (y/n) (although he doesn’t know he did)

“You’re (y/n), right? New kid?” Travis looks at you as you press the wet cloth to your nose. You nod.

“How’d you know?”

“Sal said it. he muttered. The disgusted look on his face was proven a facade by the blush on his cheeks.

“You’re in love, buddy.” you laugh.

“No i’m fucking not! You’re so fucking stupid, what the fuck? Who could love a faggot like Sally f-” you cut him off my shoving his head into the wall roughly. You don’t know what came over you, but being homophobic is still homophobic even if you’re in denial. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t about sally, it was just you being an ally. Way to kill the mood, travis.

“You pull that shit one more time and I'll leave you without teeth, blondie. Or would you rather i tell your dad that you hit girls?”

He squirms underneath your palm. “Sorry.” he looks at you with a pleading face.

You sigh and let him go. “S’fine. You need to learn how to control your anger, though, fuckface. You’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude.” stuffing the bloody towel in your bag, you lead him out the door.

“I hate you.” Travis scoffs.

“What did i say?”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“Larry, she’s already closer to travis than she is to us and they just met. Travis is a full-on dick, and they’re being all friendly! I didnt even know that was possible!” Sal chucks his bag in his locker. He hasn’t known you for long, but longer than travis! Plus he’s way nicer, too! Why’d you have to go and get all friendly with his bully?

“I don’t fucking like it either, sally face. Maybe we should just stay away from them.” Larry crossed his arms and leaned against the lockers.

Sal didn’t want to stay away from you, though. You were sweet, he was sure, just a little distant. Plus you just sort of intrigued him. He wanted to know why you were like this, what happened to you, why you had a prosthetic. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, though. He's only told Larry and Ashley about what happened to him, so he shouldn’t be picking at your trauma. you’ll tell him when you feel comfortable with it, but you’d need to be comfortable with him for that. and right now, it seems like you’re pretty comfortable with his bully.

“let’s go, dude. class starts in 5.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

After grabbing your schedule with Travis, you set your stuff in your new locker (which smelled pretty good, surprisingly.) and began walking to your first class, math. Travis laughed at you when you read your schedule outloud and you gave him a whack on the head. What an idiot. He headed off to his first class, english.

you opened the door to the classroom and coughed to get the attention of the teacher, Mrs. Packerton.

“Ah, lovely! Class, say hi to (y/n) (l/n)!” she smiles as you awkwardly wave.

“You’ll be sitting in the back, right beside Sal.” an inaudible groan leaves your cracked lips as you make your way towards him, trying not to make eye contact.

“uh, here.” he moves over. you plop yourself down next to him and open your notebook.

“we’re doing a test right now. i’m pretty sure you won’t have to do it, since it’s your first day and all.” his blue hair bounces as he looks over to you again. it looks fluffy.

“you wanna touch it?” he chuckles. you don’t want to come off creepy, but he’s offering, right?

you reach out your prosthetic hand but quickly pull it back and switch it, realizing you can’t actually feel with it. he chuckles at your mistake and leans in to your touch.

you were right. it felt like clouds, puffy but still silky. it wasn’t combed properly, though.

“Mr. Fisher and Mrs. (L/n), you little lovebirds. hands to yourselves, please.” Mrs. Packerton laughs a little. “Ah, young love.”

you quickly pull your hand back and flush.

“stupid old lady.” you mutter.

“Mrs. P’s nice, she’s just a little… enamoured in her students’ love lives.” sal laughs.

“stop, you’re making her sound like a pedophile!” you cover your mouth to suppress your laugh and sal’s face heats up even more. He made you laugh!

You both quieted down as Sal continued his test and you doodled in your sketchbook.

“are you okay? after travis, you know.” he hummed, a mix of concern and jealousy swirling in his eyes.

“uh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“You sure? Your lips look pretty busted.”

“It’s all good.”

“why do you hang out with him, anyway?” he turned his test upside down and faced you again.

“what do you mean?” you’re confused.

“he hit you in the face first thing in the morning. If i was you, i wouldn't really like him.” sal gripped his pencil.

“are you jealous?” you question, a smirk on your face.

“No.” his expression is hidden behind his mask. you look into his eyes, trying to make him blush.

the blue is a different blue than the one you saw yesterday. it’s lighter, almost like a porcelain blue.

“whatever you say, porcelain face.”

“porcelain face?”

“your mask, and your eyes, i guess. they’re like a porcelain doll’s.”

he hums.

“what are you then? metal hand? cyborg? fist of steel?”

“you forgot iron fist.”

“iron fist?”

“sure.” you grin. sal’s heart flutters again.

“Alright children, please hand in your tests and nicely file out the class. The bell will ring any moment.” Mrs. Packerton smiles sweetly and starts collecting tests. You grab your bag and leave the class.

Sal looked around the room for a bit, looking for you. A flash of (h/c) hair leaving the room catches his eyes. He tries running after you, but you’re already heading towards your next class.

•Lunch time•

“Shut the fuck up, Trav. I said she was stupid, not stupid hot. I don't know where you got hot from! I literally never said it.” You shoved his shoulder. He just snickered and continued teasing you.

“Hey, (y/n)! Come have lunch with us!” Sal saw you walking with travis. He waved you over from the cafeteria. Travis immediately stopped laughing and sneered. He quickly began walking over to sal, raising his fist.

“Leave us alone, fucking fag-” travis swung at sal but you stepped in front of them, raising your arm to cover sal’s face since he was taller.

Travis throws punches like a wrestler, You already knew that. Maybe you shouldn't have used your real hand to catch it.

His fist slammed into your forearm roughly and you flinched.

“Fuck- travis, go cool off. Now. Leave.” you hold onto your arm. It stings, but it's not broken. You’ll be fine.

“You’re all a bunch of-” he stops mid sentence as you give him a glare. It sort of said ‘you’re gay too, dumbass.’ he scrunched his eyebrows and walked off.

“Oh my fucking god!” a girl with brown hair ran over to you and lightly grabbed your arm.

“This her, sal? Are you (Y/n)?” she looked at you. She seemed very sweet. Kind of reminded you of your cousin.

“Uh- yeah- can you let go?”

She smiles in apology and lets go.

“You didn't have to do that, (y/n).” sal scratches the back of his head. You’ve gotten hurt twice because of him. How are you supposed to be friends if the only thing sal does is hurt you?

“I think maple might have an ice pack in her lunch. Can you come sit with us?” He hopes you say yes.

“Yeah, okay.” you needed the ice pack and travis was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t really have a choice.

“Hey, (y/n).” Larry grumbles as you walk to their table. It seems he’s upset with you.

“I just saved your buddy from travis. Not to your liking or something?” you look up to him. If something’s wrong, he should just fucking say it. Not beat around the bush like a pussy.

“Yeah. you and travis seem to be getting along well.” he finally makes eye contact with you. Sal and the girl seem uncomfortable.

“We all got our issues, asshole. Some of us just know how to deal with them better than others.” You sneer. He’s allowed not to like Travis, but he’s not allowed to be a bitch to you because you actually understand his actions and choose to help him instead of ignoring him.

“Whatever.” he spits. You turn to sal.

“I’ll get my own ice.” you begin walking away. “Also, watch your dog.” you hear sal chuckle as larry groans. He walks up to you before you can leave, Larry throwing his arms up in the air in disbelief.

“Hey, uh, (y/n)? I’m sorry you got hurt. Could- could i make it up to you somehow?” his hand is on yours. It’s warm, he’s probably blushing hard under his mask.

“Sure, sally. How would you do that?” you spin around to face him. You can see his mask rise a little and his smile peaks through.

“Do you have a phone?” he pulls his cell out. It’s just a simple black flip-phone with a few paint splatters.

“I do, it’s in my locker. I dont have my number memorized, though. Stupid area codes.” you mumble. “You wanna come get it with me?”

Sal looks back to his friends. Ash is nodding frantically while Larry twirls a cigarette through his fingers, still mad.

“Alright.”

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[letstalkaboutshtufff]

A Bad Feeling Pt 2

Levi x reader

Pt 2 (Final part)

Pairing : Levi x Cadet reader

Warnings: mentions of attempted rape, mentions of injury, cursing, violence. 18+ only please

***************************************************

Hey guys! Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments! You're all amazing! I did my best to write Levi not ooc, so please lemme know if I did an ok job. This chapter was hard to write so please lemme know what you think! Enjoy!

"Look at me" he was less angry now and more concerned. Because although he would never admit it. He cared for his team deeply and hated to see any of them hurt.

Knowing you couldn't disobey you sucked in a breath and slowly lifted your head up.

And when Levi's steel eyes met your teary ones they turned into one of shock.

Slowly his eyes travelled over your form. His eye brows furrowed at the grip marks that covered your chin. He looked down further and saw that both your wrists were red. His eyes travelled back up and his whole body froze when he saw the angry looking bruise peeking from under your collar.

He stood there in shock for a moment before snapping out it.

"Y/n.." he started slowly, almost gently.

"Tell me what happened" he clenched his jaw when he realized how scared you look. It did not sit well with him that a girl as strong as you ended up in this state.

Tell him?? I can't... Oro said that he would-!

"I-I c-can't" you closed your eyes feeling completely overwhelmed. Levi was going to be so angry with you, but you couldn't risk being expelled from the survey corps.

Had your eyes been open you would've seen the flash of concern that crossed his usually stoic features. Knowing he wouldnt get anywhere with you in that state he asked you to follow him. Not knowing what else to do you did...

************************************

Silently he led you to a room you had never seen before. It was neat and organized, and off to the side you saw a small stove and sink.

You were so out of it, the shock taking over that you didnt even remember being sat down at a small table.

You stared at the wood in silence, listening to some clanging around you for several minutes but snapped out of it when a small plate and tea cup full of something steaming and sweet smelling was put in front of you.

Wordlessly you looked up at your captain who took a seat near you, but far away enough not to add to your nervousness.

"Drink, it'll help" he ordered quietly. And so you did. You both sat in silence until the last drop was gone. You thought he would yell at the clattering noise your cup made every time your shakey hands grabbed it but he didnt. He sat there quiet and silent.

When you were done you let out a small thank you. You felt a tiny bit less shakey but no where near relaxed. How could you be?

Levi silently took the cup, and deposited it in the sink.

When he was finished, he made his way back to you and sat down.

"Y/n, I know you don't wanna talk, but I need to know what happened" he started calmly.

You looked into his eyes and saw that he was patient and not at all angry.

Could you tell him the truth? Oro said that he would ruin your future but if you told captain Levi, would he protect you? Despite his harsh demeanor you knew that Levi did care and protect his team when it came down to it. Even his harsh disciplines were usually for the best. Even if we couldn't see it.

But even so...Oro is his friend... way longer than I've been his cadet...what if I tell him and he talks to Oro and oro tells him something else that he believes over me.

Levi noticed the hitch in your breath and tried to calm you down once more, "Listen to me y/n, Its my job to look out for you, you're safe now" he promised gently, well as gently as he levi could be) you looked and saw sincerety in his orbs. Your mouth formed the shape to speak. But you still were not able.

"If you're not able to tell me what happened yet, I need you to at least give me a name" he tried to reason. You couldn't believe how calm and patient he was being with you. You so desperately wanted to tell him. But you were terrified.

"I-I'm afraid.." you admitted quietly in shame..

Levi felt anger rise within him, not at you no, but at whoever made you like this. He'd seen you take down titans like it was playtime at school. And now you were shaking like a leaf afraid of something he still had no idea what/who caused this.

"Like I said you're safe now-"

" Thats not.." you cut him off, "I-I'm afraid you won't take.... my side.." you admitted as a fresh set of tears ran down your face.

His eyes widened a little at this, did you not trust him?

"Y/n, listen to me" he waited until you raised your teary eyes up to meet his once more.

"You have proven yourself to be nothing but trustworthy during your time as my cadet. You have my word that no matter what you say, I will believe you" he said with finality.

And that was all you needed to hear to unlock the fear that held you back.

"Oro" you whispered.

His eyes widened in utter shock before turning into quiet rage.

"Oro did this.."

************************************

Levi did a remarkable job of holding in his emotions as you told him what happened. You didn't do it all at once. You kept having to pause to collect yourself. And some things were harder to say than others. But slowly you told him everything, his words and what he did.

The whole time you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Afraid of what emotions his face held. But when you were finished and he stood up, you couldn't help but steal a glance.

You sucked in a breath.

*Ok small teeny tiny spoiler in the next paragraph from season 3*

The last time you witnessed levi in that state was when he fought the beast titan. His body was eerily calm, but his eyes. His eyes held death.

"Stay here" and with that he was gone and you were alone...

************************************

It was torture waiting in that room. What was he going to do? The anxiety of waiting and doing nothing was killing you.

The panic mixed with exhaustion was such a strange feeling to you. Your mind was racing but your body felt on the verge on collapse.

Sighing you threw your head on the table and tucked your arms underneath.

You couldn't help but let your eyes droop.

You were somewhere between a light sleep and a deep one when the click of a door opening made you jolt awake.

"Heichou.." you went to stand but he motioned for you to stay put. To be honest you weren't sure you could stay upright. It felt like you had been thrown off a roof.

"W-what happened?" You couldn't wait another second before asking.

He stared at you for a moment, much more calm than when he had left earlier. "It's taken care of" he said finally.

You waited a few seconds for him to continue but he didn't.

"Um, by taken care of you mean...?" you nervously fidgeted with your hands.

He sighed and walked over to a nearby cabinet, not facing you he replied, "I mean that bastard won't be bothering you or anyone else anymore" you were slightly frustrated by his lack of elaboration.

Before you could press any further he turned around and cut you off, "Forget about it now, we can discuss it in the morning." You nodded hesitantly although all you wanted was some answers.

It was then you noticed that Levi was holding a small med kit in his hands. Before you knew it, he was sitting next to you, scooting the chair slightly closer.

"Hand" you stared blankly at the outstretched hand for a moment in confusion.

Whats he?... oh!

You snapped out of it not wanting to annoy him after all he had done for you by taking too long.

And despite the situation, you somehow found the capacity to still blush like a school girl when his soft hands gripped yours with surprising gentleness.

A comfortable silence filled the room as he got to work tending to your wrists. With more care than you thought he was capable he applied a cool ointment and wrapped them delicately.

You didnt even realize you were crying until you saw a fat tear plop onto the table. Levi looked up at you, pausing his movements.

"S-sorry! I didn't mean to-sorry..."you babbled embarrassed, your words not really making sense. You suddenly felt bad for putting him through all this. And now you couldn't even stop crying like an idiot.

You squeezed your eyes trying to stop the flow, but for some reason you couldn't stop. All the panic and relief caused you to feel so overwhelmed you couldn't help but let it all out. You also couldn't help but to keep apologizing over and over.

"Don't apologize.." your breath hitched at the quiet kindness in his voice. He had surprised you at least 20 times tonight by how gentle he was being. You slowly opened your eyes letting the tears fall freely. It was like the floodgates had opened, "heichou..." you swiped a hand over trying to quell the tears, "thank you" you sobbed out sincerely, not holding back.

And for the 21 time that night you were in utter disbelief when Captain Levi, the cold hearted, sadistic, cruel leader of the survey corps turned in his chair, facing opposite of you, reached a hand over to cradle your head and pulled you into his shoulder.

"It's alright y/n...its alright..." he whispered holding you close. Your wide eyes eventually closed and you clutched the arm cradling you. It was warm and safe and secure, and your heart filled with happiness, because despite everything that had happened, you knew you always could trust him, and maybe it was selfish to think this but a part of you believed that out of everyone on his squad, he only had showed this kindness to you.

************************************

The next morning as you made your way into the hall for breakfast. You couldn't help but feel everything was a bit too normal. Despite your fears, people weren't whispering about you, or giving you looks.

Sighing you found your usual spot by Sasha and Mikasa. Luckily the Mark's on your chin had lessened enough to where you could pass it off as a "I fell out of be and hit my chin on the floor" kinda thing.

After some time the boys joined as well,

"Ne did you guys hear?!" Armin exclaimed suddenly as he placed his tray down.

"Hear what?" Eren asked chewing on a piece of bread.

"About Captain Oro!" At that you felt your heart skip a beat.

Shit, what had he heard?

"What about him?" He asked raising a eyebrow.

"He was arrested!"

"What?!"

"No way!"

"There's no way!" They all were in shock.

"Its true!" He exclaimed.

"I was on my way to deliver some things to Hange-San when I saw him get dragged away by the police! And get this, he was all bloody and bruised! Like he had just been in a fight or something! They were practically carrying him!"

What?! Did Captain Levi...?!?

"Why was he arrested??" Mikasa chimed in.

"I don't know, I asked around but no one seems to know anything.."

"Huh, weird.. I wonder what happend" one of them responded.

One day you would tell them what happened but for now you decided to keep quiet.

Suddenly a flash of raven hair caught your attention. You spotted the captain making his way to Hanges table across the room. When he caught your gaze you couldn't help the small rush of heat and found your lips pulling up into a grateful smile.

He nodded simply and continued on.

Despite everything people said about him, he truly was a good person. And you couldn't help but feel a little giddy at the thought that he beat up Oro because he hurt you.

You still felt the rush of heat at the memories of last night and how he held you. After your cries had quieted down he escorted you to your room and told you to get some sleep.

You thanked him again and that was that. All night all you could think about was- well of course everything that happened- but also, the gentle way Levi tended to your wrists, the way he held your head close, the way he smelled up close the way-

"Hey y/n?" Jean leaned over with an eyebrow quirked.

"Y-yeah?"

"Why are you so red?"

Shit

***************************************************

And that's the end! I hope the ending was everything you guys were hoping for, thank you all for taking the time to read it. I hope Levi didn't seem to ooc. Until next time!

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[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

[sleep-deprived-lesbian]

HADESTOWN THOUGHTS BC IM STILL VIBRATING

-one of the guys who works at the theater told me this building was chosen specifically bc the mural on the ceiling is of roman gods and. hrgh i just think thats neat

-t oliver reid manages to be just as gay as andre de shields which is the highest compliment i could give anyone ever and hes somehow even more chaotic?? at one point during livin it up on top he just bursted into hysterical laughter and it was great

-jewelle blackman...... ilysm..... shes not as chaotic as amber but in the second act. holy shit. she seemed so elegant and put together in act one and then in our lady of the underground she is a WRECK and its so impactful

-tom hewitt is just. everything i expected tbh. just as good as patrick page but hes a little more dramatic. in videos id seen his voice wasnt as deep as patricks but on stage i really couldnt tell the difference, still very intimidating

-sayo oni is my new favorite orpheus. he just is orpheus to me now. id never heard of him before but hes SO GOOD. he legitimately has the voice of a fucking angel and he takes reeves adorkability level to a 100. he kept randomly hugging eurydice and the way he did it was just really cute?? idk how to describe it but it looked autistic somehow. orpheus is autistic but this orpheus is especially autistic

-jessie shelton!!! her eurydice took the emo level up which i love. evas eurydice is pessimistic and skeptical but still pretty gentle. jessies eurydice is just like. "life sucks asshole deal with it!" shes a lot more rough and it kinda reminded me of the concept album eurydice. she legitimately seemed mad that she fell in love with orpheus lol

-the fates are even more mischievous than i expected!!! i dont remember when but at some point one of them cackled really loudly it was great. every once in a while they would fuck someone over and just go >:3c

-during the first few songs when persephone and hades were on the balcony they were like? playing chess or something? there wasnt anything on the table but the way they were miming made it seem like they were playing some kinda board game. idk i just thought that was funny

-in wedding song when eurydice is like jeering for him to sing and she goes "you wanna take me home?" she seductively pulls down her jacket for a second lmao

-goddd the lighting is so good. i love how in way down hadestown it was flashing red and orange which made it feel ominous yet jaunty at the same time? like both hellfire and a sunset. i wasnt really sure how it was supposed to make me feel and i think that was the point!

-persephone seemed genuinely excited to go back and see hades again! she only got upset when she thought of how shed have to leave everybody else behind

-THE CELLO SYNCING TO HADES STEPS

-i know everyone gushes about the stage shift but. god. the stage shift.

-hermes was the only one onstage who didnt sing during why we build the wall and it was really striking bc he was standing opposite persephone but he just looked really sad the whole time

-persephones dancing in our lady of the underground..... maam do you like women.....

-flowers. oh my god flowers was just amazing it was so emotional

-HADES LAUGH IN PAPERS. IT WAS SO GOOD. evil laughs are so hard to execute well but he was great. he made it sound intimidating and unhinged while also sounding genuinely amused

-if its true just. agfhfhgggb. sayo is fucking amazing. idek what to say about it hes just amazing

-i knew the lights flicker after "i conduct the electric city" but i was still not prepared

-PERSEPHONE CRIED WHEN HADES SANG THE LA LA LA TO HER. she looked so so happy argtrhtrghgf

-for some reason hermes made "and you know what they did?" sound suggestive which. was certainly a choice

-orpheus turning was just. so subtle and soft. like he didnt realize what he did for a second. oh my god

-normally the shifts up and down were pretty slow but they just fucking pulled her down there huh

-im pretty sure hermes was crying during road to hell reprise. same bro

-i didnt actually cry which i was kinda disappointed by but i did come close! i dont usually cry at fiction i just scream

-special shoutout to the guy behind me as we were walking out of the theater who yelled "hades can GET IT"

[fukurodianthus]

Its just skin

Synopsis: Self-love is not something that comes to you naturally. Years of self-depreciation makes it difficult to grow into the habit of loving yourself despite of the scars peppered across your skin.

But with your fiancé, Tooru Oikawa, you find yourself stealing glances into mirrors quite often. It catches you by surprise when you find yourself...beautiful?

Pairing: Tooru Oikawa X fem!reader

Genres: tooth-rotting fluff , a lil bit of angst thrown in

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: The reader suffers from body positivity issues and insecurities regarding her appearance.

Author’s note at the end!

(p.s. didnt proof read because im ✨lazy✨ might do it later when im feeling cute idk)

“Y/N-chan, can we leave already? We’re getting late for the party” Oikawa whined, tugging the sleeve of your shirt lightly.

“Tooru, stop being so impatient!” You pushed your whiny fiancé away and concentrated on covering up the acne scars and freckles peppered across your face with layers of concealer. No matter how much you tried, you could never make your skin look half as perfect as that of the girls who dominated your Instagram and YouTube feed. Every time you looked in the mirror, the taunting voices of your family members and friends would creep into your mind.

Oh my god! Whats wrong with your face?

Don’t you wash your face properly?

You’re never going to get married if you look like that Y/N! Do something about that face of yours!

Do you want me to recommend a good dermatologist to you?

No matter what the topic of the conversation was, people always found a way to bring up the topic of your skin condition in it. You could be talking about quantum physics for all they cared, they would somehow find a way to bring up the topic of your skin.

But they didn’t know all those sleepless nights you had spent on the internet looking for remedies, they didn’t know how you cried yourself to sleep every night, praying that you’ll somehow find that your skin had magically healed up when you woke up. But miracles didn’t happen in this world. At least for you, they didn’t.

You spent a humongous chunk of your salary buying medicines, serums, anything skincare specialists would recommend to you. But none of it could you fix you. Ultimately it all ended up in the trash and you ended up on the bathroom floor, sobbing as you looked into the mirror, face contorted with disgust and self-loathing.

But then, Oikawa Tooru stepped into your life. The first person who didn’t grimace as he looked at your face. He looked at it with childish wonder in his eyes, as if he was looking at something…beautiful?  Every night, when you fell asleep in his arms, his fingers softly grazing your cheeks, you felt an unfamiliar warmth blossom inside your heart. If he could love you despite your flaws, what was stopping you from doing it?

But years of self-depreciation made it difficult to develop the habit of loving yourself. There are still moments when you found you yourself drowning in self-hatred.

Take the present moment, for instance.

No matter how much concealer you caked on your face, it didn’t look half as good as you wanted it to. You let out a frustrated groan as you plopped down on the bed. How could you go to the party looking like this, especially when Oikawa would be by your side? Everyone’s appearance paled in comparison to his flawless beauty. Then how could you, of all people, ever stand beside him as an equal? You knew everyone would be comparing you with him behind your back, their jealousy-tinged voices emphasizing on how someone like you didn’t deserve to be with him. You’d always be an undeserving lover for him in their eyes.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Oikawa’s voice was laced with heavy concern. “Do you feel sick? I told you to not eat that expired candy bar last night, but you didn’t listen-”

“Tooru, its not that. I think I look very fucking ugly right now and I can’t bear to look at myself in the mirror. I can’t go to the party right now, not when I’m feeling like this.” You buried your face in a soft cushion and let out a frustrated groan as you turned over on the bed.

“Y/N, did you start putting yourself down again?” You felt him plopping down beside you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Tooru, don’t lie to me, my skin still looks just as bad as ever.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder if astral projections are real.”

“What? Have you finally lost it?” Your widened eyes searched his face, trying to make sense of his words.

“If it was real, then I’d pull your soul out of your body make you look at your face through my eyes. Because there’s clearly something very fucking wrong with your eyes if you cannot see how damn pretty you are.” Tooru huffed, looking at you nonchalantly as if he was stating the obvious.

“Tooru-” you whimpered, turning on your side to face him.

Tooru and his horrible pickup lines.

Gosh, how can I not love him?

His chocolate-brown eyes softened as he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat drowned all the cacophony of all the negative thoughts cluttering your mind.

“Y/N, I thought love at first sight was way too cheesy and corny to be real. But then, one day, back in high school, I saw Iwa-chan talking to you. You looked so fucking pretty, you know? The way you’d bite your lips when you were confused, the way you’d look down and let your hair cover your face whenever you were flustered, it was so damn adorable. I might have gone down on my knees right then, if Iwa-chan hadn’t been there. He’d beat the living crap out of me for playing my ‘disgusting tricks’ on his friend.” Oikawa took your hands in his and slowly drew circles on your palm with his thumb.

“Iwa wouldn’t have to beat you up, I’d do it without a second thought if you pulled any of that shit on me. I always found you very bratty, clinging to Iwa with that radioactive sweet smile of yours.”

“Wow, I was head over heels in love with you on first sight, while your first impression of me was that I’m a brat? No wonder you were Iwa-chan’s friend, you both are so mean.” He pouted, looking at you with playful annoyance.

“That was before I got to know you. Your brattiness started growing on me, gradually. Now I’m so used to it, I think I’d forget how to breathe if I didn’t hear your annoying voice every morning.” You chuckled at how his face kept getting redder with every insult that you threw at him.

“You’re used to my brattiness? Are you implying I’m still a brat?”

“Exactly. Looks like you do have a brain.”

“The most amazing setter on this planet doesn’t have a brain, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but instead of asking me out on a date directly, you bugged Iwa to set us up on a date until he finally shouted at you in the middle of an English class, saying ‘Alright, Shittykawa, I’ll set you up on a date with Y/N, now stop running that fucking stupid mouth of yours.’ " You stole a glance at his face, savoring his flustered expression. "I’m right, am I not?”

Oikawa’s face reddened to the extent where it seemed that he would spontaneously combust at any moment.

"Tooru, c'mon, we both were emotionally constipated fools who could never ask each other out if Iwa hadn't stepped in." You softly ran your hands over his chest, savoring the warmth radiating from him. "Now stop pouting Brattykawa."

"You and Iwa-cha, both of you can never appreciate me before backtracking, huh?" He ran his fingers through your tangled hair, slowly massaging your scalp.

He knew it always calmed you down.

"Hey, did you really find me pretty that day?" You mind went back to how you looked the day when Oikawa first saw you. Greasy hair stuck to your face, cavernous dark circles covering your under eyes, face swollen as a result of pulling all nighters for a whole week. How could anyone, let alone Oikawa find you pretty when you looked like that?

"Can you not hold a conversation for 5 seconds without putting yourself down, huh?"

" I dont think I can Tooru. It still weirds me out that you, of all people found me beautiful when I looked like such a mess."

"Y/N I think we really need to try astral projections now-"

"Tooru, I'm serious-" You whined.

He chuckled, twilring your hair in his fingertips. "Y/N, after being with you for so long, I've realized something. You look for validation in the eyes of people who couldn’t care less about you. But when finally, someone who really cares for you and sees you as who you are tells you that they are truly beautiful, you brush it off. Why do you pretend that our compliments aren't heartfelt? Why are you so scared of being appreciated?"

Every day, when he saw you stealing glances into the mirror, he noticed how disappointment flashed across your face. He knew how you beat yourself up for not being pretty enough. You were never enough for yourself.

If your mind was a place, he’d waltz into it, shredding the self-destructive thoughts gnawing at you sanity into pieces. He’d untangle the mess inside your head, shattering the walls that bars genuine compliments reach your heart.

Oikawa wasn’t the best with words, not at times like this. But he’d give it his best.

He could feel the wet spots blossoming on his shirt, as you buried your face deeper into his chest.

"Oi!  You dummy! Are you crying?"

"To-Tooru I just think th-that I d-don’t deserve your love because I'm not as good looking as-" You choked out in between an onslaught of sobs.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” He cupped your flushed cheeks and lifted your chin up, his eyes scanning your face in concern.

“Those fucking stupid scars on your face don’t define who you are, okay? Its just skin, Y/N, you are so much more than just…a piece of skin, you know? Honestly, we’re all just bags of flesh and bones if you look at it that way. Do you think I loved you because you were a particularly pretty bag of flesh and bones?” Even though you found his analogy slightly funny, you noticed how his face lit up with passion so you refrained from making any sarcastic comments. He was trying his best.

“Continue, Tooru. I’m listening.”

“I love you because of who you are. I love the way your lashes flutter when we stargaze on the roof every night, I love you how your hair is a tangled mess when you wake up, I love how your puff your cheeks in annoyance when I stop you from over-drinking coffee every night, I love how you whine when you spend hours trying to get your eyeliner right, only to end up smudging it when you rub your eyes absent-mindedly, I love how your eyes light up when I put an extra spoonful of Nutella in your sandwich…gosh, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Your grip on his hoodie tightened. He looked at you, breathlessly, scanning your face for a reaction.

Your stared at your reflection in his chocolate-brown eyes, struggling to find the right phrases to express the way his words made you feel. You felt your heart race as if it was beating in pace with a rhythm set in by a drug-induced ecstasy.

What would you call this feeling of warmth that washed over you with every syllable he uttered?

“Thank you.” You wondered if you could’ve said anything better to express how much his words meant to you. God, where were a the fancy words you had learnt from corny YA romance books when you needed them?

But he didn’t need to hear your words to know that you’d been moved by his words. Fancy phrases could never tell him what the faint rosy glow of your cheeks could.

“Stop thanking me for stuff like this. It’s my duty, Y/N. I’m your fiancé for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re such a sap Tooru.” You giggled, squishing his cheeks softly.

“Yeah but you’re hopelessly in love with this sap, so deal with it.” His grip around your waist tightened as he nuzzled his face on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your collarbones.

“Now let me go Shittykawa, we have a party to attend.” You pried his arms off your waist and sat up.

“Babe, we’re about to get married in a few months, you really need to drop that stupid nickname.”

“Hmm, let me think.” Cocking your head to your side, you pretended to be immersed in deep thought. “Nope, not happening.”

“Don’t blame me for what happens next.” Oikawa sat up and tackled you to the bed, pinning your wrists by your side.

“Ooh, now that’s hot, Tooru”

“You know whats hotter Y/N?”

“What?”

“This.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond as his hands slid down to your waist. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

And then he started tickling you.

You broke out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, kicking him, trying to get him to stop.

Two minutes later, you both lay side by side, panting, faces flushed with breathless fits of laughter.

You caught a glance of your face in the bedside mirror.

Even with your reddened face, tangled hair and smudged mascara, you looked…beautiful.

You felt beautiful.

As you nuzzled your face on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat rumbling in your ears, his words kept replaying in your mind.

“Its just skin, Y/N.”

Author’s note: ahhhhh I kinda wrote this in a flow?? Its a comfort fic/drabble???Idk what this is tbh. This is very self indulgent because I’ve suffered from skin problems(cystic acne ugh🤢) all my life, so I decided to comfort myself through this fic 🥺👉👈 . If only I had an Oikawa in my life 😩✋

N E ways, drink water, get enough sleep(lmao the irony that I’m saying this-) and remember to love yourself because you are beautiful!😤❤️I’ll come for your kneecaps if you put yourself down🤩🔪.

Reblogs would be highly appreciated!