#Distance cant divide us

[andrewdi8]

How to Maintain a Long - Distance Friendship

Everyone has friends who have moved to other countries and now you don't see each other in person anymore, some friendships fad shortly after the move.

Although we may not talk often, we still stay in touch by sending messages, voice notes, or making occasional calls. I also see photos and videos on social media and react to them, asking questions about the places they visit or the events they attend. This allows us to keep the connection alive.

However, sometimes people don't respond to my reactions or they just reply with something brief like "Everything is okey". It makes me wonder if they've already moved on with their lives - new friend, new interests and perhaps they've forgotten about the past.

So, how do you keep a long-distance friendship going?

[raitonsfw]

𝚢𝚘𝚔𝚘𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚊'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 (𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞) | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai had saved you from the near pits of hell and you smiled at his invitation requesting that you join the agency. When you accepted his invitation, he was over the moon and you two quickly became inseparable. You obviously knew he had feelings for you and you thought nothing of it as you were too shy to return them. That is until he asks to spend the night in the midst of a snowstorm, let alone sleep in the same bed as you? You couldn’t say no, the thought of finally being with him weighing heavily on your mind.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, virgin!reader, shy!reader, smut, first time, fingering, cunnilingus, breast play, grinding (specifically dazai grinding against the bed), p in v intercourse, a little bit of pain, teasing, slight dirty talk, cursing, consent, pining (if you squint), embarrassment (reader moans loudly and dazai fucking loves it), implied aftercare, mention of a dazai-typical suicide, reader wraps his bandages around him for him bc he cant do it himself (he’s a stubborn boy), pet names (darling, precious thing, baby, my dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: a piece for one of my dear followers, i hope you enjoy lovely! 🧡 personally adore writing dazai in every type of scenario and i also have another virgin!reader request for him with a special twist so fellow dazai lovers, be on the lookout for that in the next few days! wc: 3k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The air was astonishingly crisp and you sighed into your sleeve, the wind catching up to you to ultimately freeze you over. The coat you wore didn’t keep you very warm, it shouldn’t even be classified as a winter coat to be fair. Your boots crunched under the frost that had accumulated on the sidewalk and you bundled yourself up tightly as the winter picked up its rein over Yokohama, snow falling against the rooftops and you fumbled with your keys to the apartment door in front of you. 

Your apartment had a sickle warmth coming from it and you nearly collapsed onto the sofa from exhaustion. The day had been nothing but helping Yosano shopping in the heart of the city, the bags heavily weighing you down as she piled on top as much stuff she could possibly buy for the holidays. It was a cute gesture, you thought but you didn’t think that Ranpo needed that much candy stuffed into his stocking.

The sun had just begun to set, the lack of light barely registering as you looked around the dim apartment. It was neater than usual and you picked up the presence that somebody had cleaned it for you. The kitchen was tidied up with the exception of some baked treats sitting out on the counter and the living room had a scented candle lit against the coffee table. You couldn’t think of anyone else who had your house key besides Dazai. 

“Dazai-san?” You whispered out, looking towards the bedroom for his company. He sometimes stayed in your apartment after a much needed break from the agency dorms, away from its noise and the constant bugging of the other coworkers that resided there. You two were close, but there was still a certain distance kept between the both of you; but you trusted him nonetheless since he was the one who had invited you to join the agency. 

Peering into your bedroom, Dazai was fast asleep. Light snores came from him and you smiled to yourself as you moved over to wake him up. He was in your bed mind you, this has happened quite often and you found it adorable that he sought comfort in your bed. You knew he harbored feelings for you, that was the distance that refused to close between you two; you were simply just too shy to return his feelings and he never made a move on you in fear of making you uncomfortable. 

You placed your hand on his shoulder, the action enough to stir him from his sleep. His eyes lazily opened and he yawned loudly, “Oh, Y/N-san, you’re home.” 

“Thank you for cleaning.” 

“Needed a place to escape to, Atsushi-kun was driving me insane.” He whispered, stretching out onto the bed. He looked at you with a tired expression and you wished you could just gently lean down and kiss him but your nerves got the best of you. Again. You pressed your lips together as you pulled your hand away from his shoulder. 

“Can we share the bed tonight?” Dazai asked as he sat up from the bed, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s sooo comfy.” 

You blushed at his comment, completely blindsided by the sudden request from him. You were more than fine with him sleeping over, the snow had begun to pile up on the streets and it was beginning to look like a blizzard as it blew past the windows heavily. But sharing the bed is something he’s never asked you before, the intimacy of it making your cheeks hot. Normally he’d sleep on the sofa if he ever stayed over, leaving you to the privacy of your room. 

But this was different. Perhaps he was actually going to make a move on you? You weren’t really sure, the thought of it made your pulse quicken. Whatever happened you’d embrace it with open arms, hoping for a flourishing love with the man who had saved you from your old life.

You nodded and left him alone as you went about your home routines, though it didn’t last long as he followed you around your apartment with a grin. He ordered dinner for the both of you at no cost to you at all, though in truth it was probably Kunikida’s credit card he swiped because there was no way Dazai actually had more than twenty dollars on him. He rambled on about his day between mouthfuls and you found out about his suicide attempt had ultimately failed again, Ranpo’s breakdown about having not enough yummy snacks, and the holiday break coming up for the agency that you missed out on. 

Before you knew it, the clock struck late and you were standing in front of your bed after your shower, contemplating whether this was a good idea or not. Dazai had hopped in the shower after you, the water running as background noise for your thoughts. You dried off your hair, sitting on the edge of the bed and you heard the soft melodic hum of his song flow through the apartment. 

You dimmed the lights and went to find a book to read before bed when you heard the water turn off and you mildly panicked as he came out a few moments later, in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You had just gotten underneath the covers, the book opened to the page where you left off last abandoned as you gazed at Dazai. 

“I left clothes here before, haven’t I?” He muttered to himself, rummaging around your room as you sat quietly on the bed watching him. The droplets from his hair ran down his exposed chest back, something you didn’t see very often as his bandages wrapped around him fully. You felt that ache between your thighs, that cursed feeling that you knew you couldn’t satisfy very well. You were heavily inexperienced after all, the slightest bit of arousal made you quiver and you’ve never actually been with anyone due to the quietness you displayed.

“I think you left them in the second drawer, Dazai-san.” You murmured quietly, pointing to the dresser next to you. He glanced over to it then laughed to himself, opening the dresser to retrieve his clothing and a fresh stash of bandages to wrap himself in. 

“Of course I did, making myself right at home aren’t I?” He disappeared back into the bathroom and you exhaled shakily, pressing your thighs together underneath the covers. 

You heard a soft noise of disapproval from behind the closed door and Dazai came out with only his sweats on, a mild irritation waving over his face. “Kunikida-kun bought me the wrong brand. They don’t wrap right.” 

“Let me see?” You offered quietly, extending your hand out for the roll of bandages. He placed the wrinkled ball in your hand, (he must’ve balled them up in frustration), and you smoothed them out gently. Dazai sat in front of you in a criss-cross, his eyes following your movements as you started the end of the bandage at his shoulder. 

“I’ll start the wrap for you, then you do the rest yourself.” You said, holding onto the end of the wrap with your finger as you tangled the next wrap behind his neck and to the crevice of his other shoulder. You continued your motions for a bit, repeating it over and over until you got to his arms. You were practically red from the amount of time you stared at his chest while wrapping, but you kept silent as you handed the roll back to him. 

“Can you do the rest please?” Dazai pouted at you, thrusting the bandages back into your hands. You didn’t know why he wanted you to do it, he was already mostly wrapped in the bandages.

“W-Why?”

“Because I like seeing how flustered you get.” He said with a slight taunt and you dropped the bandages in his lap as you finished one loop around his arm. You couldn’t respond, a flush spreading throughout your cheeks again as you reached down to pick up the roll when you noticed the prominent bulge in his sweats. 

He was hard. In front of you, in the middle of your bed, and your heart skipped a beat. You felt the arousal slick right against your panties and you could barely contain yourself as your hand faltered whilst reaching the bandages. You must’ve been a bit obvious though as your chin was lifted up to look back at him and his dark brown eyes stared back at you with a glint of lust clouding the rims.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Dazai cooed, leaning in closer to you with a smirk. “Cat got your tongue?” 

“Dazai-san…” You whispered and he closed the space between you two, finally. You squeaked in surprise as he swiped his tongue into your mouth with ease and he pushed you back into the pillows gently. He climbed over top of you as he deepened the kiss, the bandages abandoned at his side, and you placed your hands on his chest. 

“This is okay, right?” He murmured into the kiss, moving to plant kisses down your neck and your voice trailed off as you attempted to speak. 

“Um, yes but…” Dazai came up from your neck to look at you with a worried expression. 

“What is it, Y/N-san?” He asked, about to get up but you instantly held him in place. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, you definitely wanted him, wanted this– but he had to know you were a virgin. 

“I’m a virgin.” You whispered, averting your gaze with the crimson tint in your cheeks coloring even more. “Is that okay?” 

It was more than okay in Dazai’s eyes, he’d show you– the girl he grew to admire from day one, all the ways he could love you and care for you. No one else had the pleasure to touch you as he did, he wanted you all to himself. Ever since he found you stranded from the depths of despair and nursed you back towards the agency with wide eyes. That’s why he was quick to close the gap between you two, he couldn’t stand to see someone else take you as theirs. 

“Of course it is.” Dazai assured as his fingers slipped into the shorts you wore, playing with the waistband for a moment. His other hand cupped at your breast lightly and he came down to kiss it over clothed skin. You held onto his back as he laid himself fully on top of you now, grinding into your thigh slightly. “Am I allowed to…?” 

“Yes, please.” You said and you felt him ruck up your shirt, pressing open mouthed kisses into the flesh of your exposed breast. Dazai sucked a bruise into it lovingly and you moaned out softly, his tongue lapping around your nipple. A small groan escaped him when you dug your fingers into his back, his fingers sliding through the wetness of the inside of your panties. They brushed against your clit and into your heat with acuteness and you couldn’t help the loud gasp you let out. 

“My my, aren’t we loud in bed?” He teased as he pulled away from your breast to tend to the other one, the sensation of his mouth and fingers making you see stars. “You precious thing– so quiet at the agency but when I do this...” He plunged a second finger in, emitting another loud whine from you, “You go crazy.”

You quivered under his touch as he curled his fingers into you, in and out, and you watched him bow down to kiss at your clit, promptly pulling your shorts and panties down in one fell swoop. He licked a fat stripe up the entirety of your cunt next to his fingers, savoring the way you tasted on his tongue with a grunt. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy now.” Dazai moaned out into you as your thighs squeezed around his shoulders and you felt the bed shake slightly and your hands gripped his hair as you looked down. He was grinding against the edge of the mattress now and honestly, you thought you were about to die right then and there; he was so fucking turned on by you that he needed the friction, any friction, and you felt another wave of arousal shoot up your spine.

Your eyes squeezed shut as Dazai rubbed gently against your sweet spot and your head fell back onto the pillows, your back arching into the delicious feeling. He moved back up onto you, his chin wet with your arousal and he wiped it off against his forearm as he bent down to cover you in hickeys.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked in earnest and you nodded with a pitch to your breath; he was incessantly rubbing at the soft spot now, like he was desperate to make you cum for the first time with someone. 

“D-Dazai-san, please…” You whimpered out, clutching onto the base of his hip and he immediately realized what you wanted. You wanted him.

“Ready now, my dear?” Dazai made eye contact with you as he leaned back and you swooned as he pulled out his fingers, your slick dripping down them. He parted your legs with his knees, wedging himself between you as he palmed at his clothed cock. “Just can’t wait, can you?” 

He pulled himself out of his sweats, stroking his length a few times as you ogled at him. He was big, much bigger than you expected and you nearly drooled out of habit. Dazai positioned himself against your entrance, resting his one hand on your waist as the other guided his cock into you, inch by inch. There was a hint of pain, the pressure surrounding your middle and you closed your eyes tightly. It went away as he stopped stretching you open instantly, searching your face for any more discomfort.

“Are you okay?” Dazai breathed out, peppering little kisses wherever he could reach to lull the pain. His hips jolted a bit as you squirmed against him, but he stayed still to let you adjust. His free hand came to caress your cheek, thumbing it softly as he made sure you weren’t in too much pain. “If it hurts too much, we can stop-”

“K-Keep going.” You wrapped your legs around him, letting him bury himself into you deeper and you both choked on a quiet whimper as he fully bottomed out. Dazai groaned out quietly as you got used to his cock splitting you nearly in two. You felt so full, the twitch of his dick nearly made you cry out in ecstasy. “You can move…” 

Dazai nodded into your skin, pulling out of you halfway, then rolling his hips back into you at a slow place. You gripped onto his back again, the bandages slipping loose as he started to fuck into you earnestly and you couldn’t hold back the whimpers that flew out of your mouth. Dazai’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth was agape from how good he felt and soft little ahs- filled the once silent air.

“God, so t-tight around me.” He stuttered out with a whine to his voice, rocking into you sensually as you became overwhelmed by such a throbbing feeling, sucking in a sharp breath. You felt the heat spreading underneath your skin, his cock hitting just right against your walls and you couldn’t help but arch your back up into him, your hips moving against his. The building pleasure spread like a wildfire and your thighs trembled, it wasn’t enough– you needed more.

“D-Dazai– Osamu!” You cried out as he nipped at the bud of your nipple harshly and he hummed, glancing up at you. His eyes were like the black of night, nearly enveloped in the drunk feeling and as you clenched around him hard while he languidly thrusted his hips, they squeezed shut and he panted out a few curses. 

“Shit, shit, fuck you feel so good...” He gasped out, pounding into you harder now and you felt your orgasm in the pit of your tummy. His fingers traced back to your clit, teasing it with each stroke of his cock and you writhed against him as your release hit you hard, stars imprinting on the back of your eyelids. You moaned out his name, pressing yourself further onto his dick as your walls fluttered around him and you barely heard his groan as he pulled out of you quickly. His hips stuttered and he spurted all over your tummy and chest with a broken moan, fucking into his hand until he came down from his high. 

“How was it, darling?” Dazai asked, out of breath as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. He wiped off his cum with some of his loose bandages and you vaguely understood you were going to have to restart your previous wrapping as you watched him. “Everything you imagined?” 

You didn’t answer him, too embarrassed by your moans from earlier. He hummed softly in your ear, planting a kiss behind it as you sat up in his arms. “You sounded like an angel, if that’s what you’re embarrassed about.”

“How did you know that’s what I was thinking about?”

“You think I don’t know you? You’ve always been shy, especially around me. And when you have such wanton moans…” He laughed to himself, helping put your clothes back on lovingly. “No, seriously don’t be embarrassed, you almost made me go feral.”

You shivered as he moved to the other side of the bed, playing back the moment in your head and your cheeks blushed red again. And Dazai, of course, noticed and teased you for it. “Still flustered?” 

That gap that had distanced the both of you silently closed as you grasped onto the feeling he gave you. You didn’t have to tell him how you felt, he knew. And he didn’t have to go out of his way to make a move when he already has. Everything was now perfect, the frost melting within the snowtops of the trees.

“Come cuddle with me, Y/N. It’s cold outside and I wanna warm you up.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[the-soggy-sunflower-ship]

worst part about being best friends but online/long distance?

somedays i need to be held close and i need you to hug me while i cry on your shoulder

i want to hug you and give you my sibling-like affection

i want to flop ontop of eachother and talk about the gossip or newest ship we saw; i want to cling to your leg to annoy you, play with your hair and make a mess of it, and hug you because i love you like family, because you ARE my family.

but we cant, because real life seperates us. because school, work, states, countries, continents, and people with bad intent seperate and divide us.

Who do you think of as you read this?

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

trick or treat! :3

as far as i can tell we don't share fandoms. i dont rememebr when we became mutuals. i mean ur a FIXTURE in my notes now i cant imagine tumblr without you but. i dont know what to do in this situation.

uhhh okay. i just glanced through my drafts and heres something nonfandom i wrote while i was on an airplane to visit family in Oregon and then never posted anywhere.

My dearest friend,

How has Oregon been treating you? I suppose the question is extraneous, for as I pen these words I am currently thirty eight thousand feet above the ground, and I suspect I will reach you well before this letter does, though I hope, regardless, that it finds you well. I write to you from the cabin of an airfaring vessel, maintained by the American Airlines shipping company. The crew of this vessel is myself, the captain, his first mate, and two attendants, accompanied by some thirty-odd passengers, though there is room for dozens more. We are en route to Dallas, for the line to meet you in your home is at best indirect and, perhaps more accurately, greatly circuitous. Still, the inconvenience is nothing compared to the pain of being without you, and thus I undertake the journey with hope in my heart. I heard that you have little experience with travel aboard such vessels, and as such I thought you may find it interesting to hear of some of the things my eyes and ears have captured during my journey.

Where to begin? I think you would garner some amusement from meeting the attendant for our section of the vessel. I admit his name escapes me at present, though I have, against my will, learned a good many other details about the man. He is fifty-one years of age, and this is but his sixth day with the company, and the first outside his homeland of Texas. It is also the greatest altitude that a flight of his has achieved, and he is brimming with excitement, enough so that he has disregarded some of the company's regulations for the crew's safety. He also fears for his health, for the physicians describe his solid build as "morbidly obese," and many of the men of his family perished of a heart condition before they reached their sixtieth year. There is still some hope within him, however, as his mother is ninety-seven and, according to him, in fine fettle.

My fellow passengers are an odd lot. Despite the infection that, at present, continues to plague us, I appear to be the only one on board taking the minimum precautions to limit the spread of disease, and I worry that illness will befall us upon reaching port. Still, they have their charms, particularly the gentleman seated beside me; though he did not offer me his name, we have made pleasant conversation on the state of our travels. I told him of my plans to see your side of the nation, and he told me he was on much the same sort of mission, for he has family in California he has not seen in some years. He is an amusing travel companion and I have no regrets for having spoken to him, though from the occasional off-color remark I suspect that we would come into conflict should our friendship continue.

The most striking feature of the journey, of course, is the views of the landscape from above. Even from a great distance it is possible to see with some detail, and I happily observed my old hometown for some minutes as we ascended. It is striking the perspective it gives you; the lakes and grounds are neatly divided, not into perfect squares but into shapes still regular enough to tell that they were sculpted not by the Lord's hand but by ordinary men. The only feature of the landscape that retained its irregularity was the mighty Ohio, which snakes across the Earth uncaring, indifferent to our plans for the world. Of course, a good deal of the land was set aside for farming, and thus presented the image of a patchwork quilt when viewed from sufficient height.

The trip's greatest splendor has become apparent now that we have reached our cruising altitude, however, for now we cut our way through the clouds. While the gray and windy conditions of our travel has created some unfortunate rockiness to the journey - severe enough that I have not been able to exit my seat for the duration - it does create the illusion of total blankness outside our window, a pure white void, as if the world were an artist's canvas, and all he chose to draw was the wing of one plane. I cannot express how jarring this effect was to witness firsthand; the eye accustoms itself to seeing such solid emptiness in paintings and pictures, but the disbelief upon seeing it with one's own eye is difficult to describe.

There were areas in which we reached a delta between the clouds, and from here I gained a newfound appreciation for the magnitude of the skies. As I gazed down to the earth, I saw a cloud so far below us that to fall onto it, were it solid, would still shatter every bone in the body as if falling from a large cliff face. This cloud itself was suspended an impossible distance above another cloud, dipping suddenly downward, a sheer drop to rival the greatest canyons; and at least twice again that distance below the clouds was the Earth itself. When I looked up, there were at least that many clouds above us as well; there were, in fact, enough that I could not see the end of them, and for all I know they had no end. How I marvel at the men who brought the human race into the skies that we might explore such vast, untouched brilliance for ourselves!

There are some five hours remaining before I will arrive in Oregon with you, but I treasure the thought that I will soon be at your side. Until then, I will hold you in my thoughts. Give my best to dear Delilah as well.

Until next time, my dear friend.

[cherryrainn]

the perfect pair {onceler x reader}

.11| 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 |

warning; s3lf harm, self-hatred, depression, mental health issues, etc, and A LOT OF ANGST!!

wattpad ver

song to play while reading if you’d like that i think matches this chapter

part before

next part

note; a portion of this chapter is inspired by another story i read on ao3. i literally cant find it so if you guys recognize anything and know what im talking abt let me know

he's doing it again.

the days began to blur together as onceler grew more distant. he hardly spoke to you, except for a few half-hearted "love you"s that didn't feel genuine. he was always busy, either on calls, attending meetings, or away in different cities. you felt incredibly alone, longing for his attention and a chance to talk, but he was always preoccupied.

meanwhile, outside, it looked horrible, mirroring the chaos in your mind. the weight of responsibilities and uncertainties bore down on you, even though you had no control over onceler's business ventures.

stress became a constant companion, adding to your worries and creating a sense of unease. it felt as if you were fading into the background while the world continued to whirl around you.

you've been trying really hard to resist the urge to relapse, but your mind kept playing tricks on you. it made you believe that onceler no longer loved you and that life had lost its meaning. everything felt heavy and lonely, especially because he seemed distant and always busy with work.

you found yourself sitting alone in the dimly lit bedroom the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows across the walls. onceler entered the room, his footsteps light, and you couldn't help but notice the distance in his eyes. he didn't look at you once.

desperate for connection, you mustered the courage to break the suffocating silence that hung between you. "onceler, can we talk?" your voice wavered, betraying the vulnerability that consumed you. yet, as if trapped in his own world, he continued on his path, sitting on his chair where his desk was, his actions indicating a disregard for your words. the disappointment washed over you, engulfing your spirit in a wave of sadness.

tears welled up in your eyes. the sting of unspoken words and ignored pleas clawed at your heart. it was as if you had become invisible in your own home, your presence fading into the background of his bustling life. the ache of loneliness settled deep within you.

in a trembling voice, you whispered to him, almost hesitantly, "can you talk to me..?" the question escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of countless nights spent yearning for the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance of his love. it hung in the air, a vulnerable plea for acknowledgement and validation.

with a sigh, onceler's voice filled the room, laden with a mix of frustration and weariness. "you know," he began, his voice laced with an anguished tone, "i've built this company from scratch, pouring my heart and soul into it. every thneed that's made, every sale made—it's all for us, for our future."

his words hung in the air, a painful reminder of the growing divide between you. you mustered the strength to speak up, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and desperation. "but what about us, onceler? what about our relationship, our love? it feels like you're slipping away, like you're using your success as an excuse to distance yourself from me."

he met your gaze, a flicker of guilt briefly crossing his eyes before being replaced by a mask of determination. "no, you don't understand. everything I'm doing, all the sacrifices i'm making, it's for our future together. i'm building a life of security and comfort for us. can't you see that?"

your heart sank, realizing the depth of his manipulation. it was as if he was wrapping his actions in a cloak of noble intentions, using your emotions as a means to justify his behavior. the weight of his words settled heavily upon your shoulders, the truth of his manipulative tactics slowly becoming clear.

"but what about the love, onceler?" you whispered, your voice trembling. "when was the last time you said you loved me, and meant it?"

for a brief moment, his facade faltered, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. but just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a calculated expression. "love, y/n, is complicated! it's not about words, it's about actions. and my actions, my dedication to this company, they are proof of my love for you. trust me, this is for us."

the heaviness in your chest grew, the pain of his manipulation suffocating you. you couldn't help but wonder if the love you once shared had become secondary to his ambitions. the realization left you feeling trapped, torn between the person you loved and the person he was becoming. you longed for the man who loved you unconditionally, the one you could confide in without fear of judgment.

"onceler," you pleaded, "please, let's talk. don't shut me out anymore. i need you here."

onceler stared at you, his expression neutral, as if he were weighing your words against his own desires. his hesitation gave way to doubt as he studied your face. "i love you, y/n. do you understand that? i will never stop loving you, no matter how far apart we might be. the only thing that matters to me is that we're together forever. you're my whole world, and I want you to stay that way. we can build a future together. please, just give me a chance."

the honesty in his words caught you off guard, and it took everything in you to keep from breaking down. he was saying things that you desperately wanted to hear, but his words were tainted with a ruthless intent to manipulate you. it wasn't the words themselves that hurt so much, it was the fact that they came from someone who claimed to love you.

despite the pleading in your eyes, onceler didn't relent. he stood and walked towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand. "don't you get it, y/n? this is the best way forward for us. we'll be happy, no matter what. i promise you, everything will be alright."

you opened your mouth to respond, but the weight of his words weighed heavily on your heart. you knew he wouldn't back down, that he would continue to use his words as a weapon, trying to convince you of the rightness of his decisions.

you closed your eyes and looked away, somewhere, anywhere that wasn't his face, unable to watch his words sink in. he placed a gentle kiss on your head, and you felt his touch as if it were a physical caress, his fingers lingering on your skin. he said nothing else as he left the room, leaving you alone, your heart in pieces.

over the next few days, onceler grew more and more distant, and the distance between the two of you grew with each passing day. you tried reaching out to him, but he was too focused on other things.

one day, the weight of your emotions became unbearable, and you found yourself seeking solace in the dimly lit bathroom. the tiled floor felt cold against your socked feet as you sat there, cross-legged, the sleeves of your dress shirt pushed up, revealing a canvas of pain etched into your skin. the soft glow of a single candle flickered on the countertop, casting dancing shadows across the room.

with trembling hands, you traced your fingertips along the lines that marred your arms, a twisted tapestry of anguish and desperation. the wounds varied in depth and severity, some like delicate brushstrokes, barely breaking the surface, while others were raw and open, the evidence of a desperate release.

the scent of blood mixed with the soothing aroma of lavender candles you had lit for comfort. drops of red stained the clean brown tiles. 

sitting there, you struggled to catch your breath, tears welling in your eyes. the battles waged within your mind echoed in the quiet of the room. you longed for someone to hold you, to offer warmth, but all you heard was your own despair, a reminder of the isolation gripping your heart.

"y/n? y/n! what the hell are you doing?"

startled, you gasped and looked up, your eyes widening in realization. your heart pounded in your chest as you found yourself caught red-handed, exposed in your vulnerable state. the door, forgotten and unlocked, swung open wide, revealing your private moment to onceler who stood frozen in the doorway. his features contorted with a mixture of surprise, concern, and a tinge of disgust.

the door hissed shut behind onceler as he stumbled into the bathroom, his mouth agape with shock. his eyes traced over the cuts visible on your arms, his brows furrowing deeper with each passing moment. the weight of his gaze bore down on you, adding to the heavy silence that enveloped the room. In your trembling hands, you released the box cutter, its sharp edges clattering against the cold tiled floor.

and then, his voice shattered the stillness, exploding with anger and confusion. "what the fuck!" he exclaimed, his words laced with frustration. he moved swiftly, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching out to pull your arms away, desperate to see the extent of the damage you had inflicted upon yourself.

"onceler..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, but he interrupted you, his anger barely contained. his grip on your wrists was tight, his entire body trembling as he gritted his teeth and breathed heavily. the anger in his eyes bore into yours, demanding answers. "what the fuck happened? you were clean for months!"

caught in the intensity of his gaze, you struggled to find the right words. your mind felt clouded, it was as if you were watching everything from a distance, the significance of the moment eluding your grasp.

his grip tightened, shaking you forcefully, his voice rising in a grating roar. "answer me!" he demanded, his frustration seeping through every word.

"you...i..." you stammered, desperately trying to pull yourself back from the abyss that threatened to consume you. you felt the prickling sensation of tears welling up behind your eyes, the overwhelming surge of emotions threatening to spill over. but for now, you could only blink at him, your mind struggling to process the gravity of the situation. 

he didn't react like this before, he was nice, kind, and even helped you clean up.

"it has nothing to do with you onceler, leave me alone!" you shouted, your voice filled with a mixture of frustration, pain, and a simmering rage that had long been suppressed. the weight of your words hung in the air, a stark declaration of the emotions that had been building within you.

the room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as the storm of emotions swirled around you. the sight of onceler, once a pillar of support and kindness, now transformed into a figure of confusion and anger, sent a wave of anguish through your heart. you could feel the ground shifting beneath your feet, the foundation of your relationship crumbling before your very eyes.

he recoils, the anger on his face morphing into surprise as he stumbles back. in a flash of fury, you break free from his grip, fueling your movements with a surge of adrenaline. your heart pounds in your chest as you face him, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and pain.

"you have no idea what you're looking at! you think you understand, but you're clueless!" your voice trembles with a raw intensity as you lock eyes with him, the tension palpable. "get out of here! leave this goddamn bathroom!"

he rises to his feet, a mixture of defiance and disbelief on his face, and attempts to reach for you again. the fury within you intensifies, consuming your every thought and action. with a primal scream, you unleash a barrage of violent kicks, each strike fueled by your pent-up rage. you aim for his knees, his stomach, anywhere your fury directs you.

"i said, get the fuck out!" you growl, your voice dripping with venom. the force behind your kicks sends him stumbling backward, his attempts to regain his balance futile.

finally, he manages to steady himself, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and astonishment. for a fleeting moment, the weight of your anger hangs heavy in the air. the door hisses shut behind him as he slowly retreats, your words echoing in the silence.

breathing heavily, you slump to the floor, your body trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline. tears well up in your eyes as you survey the aftermath. the knife is nowhere to be seen, and the crimson stains on the floor serve as a painful reminder of the chaos that unfolded.

you remain in the bathroom, the weight of the confrontation settling upon you. the sound of his departing footsteps and the distant echo of the closing door resonate in the stillness. emotions swirl within you, a mix of relief and sorrow, as you brace yourself for the turbulent road ahead.

you couldn't evade him forever, you were in the lobby, sitting there. you glanced up from your thoughts, irritation etched across your face as onceler took a seat across from you. with a deep sigh, you looked back down at your work, hoping he would get the hint and leave you alone.

he cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze fixed on his hands. "listen, i know you're probably not too thrilled to see me right now, but i wanted to talk."

your eyes flickered up to meet his, a mix of annoyance and curiosity in your gaze. "talk about what, onceler? i don't have time for this."

he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his words laced with a hint of urgency. "i need to apologize, for everything. the way i've been treating you, shutting you out... it's not fair, and it's not how I want things to be."

you arched an eyebrow, skeptical of his sudden change in attitude. "apologies don't mean much if the behavior doesn't change. what's really going on, onceler?"

he hesitated, his gaze searching yours for understanding. "i've been under a lot of pressure with the business, with the thneeds, and i've let it consume me. i neglected you, and i'm sorry. you mean more to me than all of this. i wanna make things right."

your heart wavered between anger and a flicker of hope, unsure of whether to believe his words. "actions speak louder than words, onceler. i can't just forget everything that happened."

he reached out a hand, and you just looked at it.

"just... leave me alone."

you get up and step out of the lobby and head for the door. you don't hear him say anything, you don't look back, you just leave.

you think that might be the end of it. you hope that's the end of it.

days go by, and things start to return to their previous state. he's back to being distant, as if the incident never happened. but deep down, you know he wasn't truly sorry. you knew he wouldn't keep his promises.

and amidst the facade of normalcy, hidden beneath your sleeve, is the fresh cut, a testament to your ongoing struggle. after the incident, you slipped back into old habits, finding comfort in the familiar pain.

sitting on your bed, engrossed in your phone, you fail to hear onceler entering the room. it's only when he clears his throat that you snap back to reality.

"oh, onceler," you say, feigning surprise, "i didn't see you there."

his gaze immediately falls upon your exposed arm, the newly formed marks standing out starkly against your skin. you quickly pull your sleeve down, attempting to conceal the evidence.

you hurriedly explain, your voice tinged with defensiveness. "it's not-" 

"no!" onceler's expression contorts, a mixture of anger, concern, and sadness. he takes a step closer, his voice trembling with emotion.

"i can't stand by and watch you do this shit to yourself!" he exclaims, his words laced with desperation. "i don't get why you hurt yourself like this!"

you let out a weary sigh, feeling the weight of his words. "we've been through this before," you say, your voice tinged with frustration. "everyone has their struggles, their own ways of coping."

"what struggles!?"

you stay silent, but he speaks up again.

"but self-harm, y/n... it's not a healthy way to cope. it's not right"

your anger rises, fueled by the fear of losing control. "and what about you? huh?" you retort, the words escaping before you can filter them. "you smoke cigars and act all confident and cocky, but that's not exactly healthy either!"

the room falls silent, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. regret washes over you, but it's too late to take them back. you open your mouth to apologize, to try and salvage the situation, but no words come out.

onceler's face hardens, his expression a mixture of disappointment and determination. without a word, he turns on his heels and walks out the door, his departure punctuated by a thick silence.

the days have blurred together as you lock yourself to your room, he told his mom, she confronted you, made fun of you, you were so hurt. his mom released the info to the public, everyone knew. you just can't bring yourself to go outside. the weight of embarrassment and shame suffocates you, making it hard to face anyone,

a hesitant knock breaks through the silence, and you choose to ignore it. the room feels empty, as if you were the only person left in the world.

the door slides open, and onceler steps inside. you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his presence. the room feels heavy with unspoken tension.

he clears his throat softly, his voice cautious. "hey... are you okay?"

bitterness creeps into your tone as you respond, not looking up. "why should you care? your mom made sure everyone knows my secret. did you enjoy sharing my personal struggles with your mom?"

his voice is laced with remorse. "i never meant for that to happen. i was just talking to her, i thought she would understand and keep it between us."

a surge of anger courses through you. "well, congratulations. now everyone knows about my struggles. just what I needed, right?"

"i'm sorry... i didn't know.."

"you should have known!" you retort, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "you should have known how she feels about me, how she would use this against me. but you didn't care enough to consider the consequences!"

he takes a step forward, his voice filled with defensiveness. "what did you want me to do? i thought I was doing the right thing by telling my mom, seeking guidance."

a bitter laugh escapes your lips, laced with frustration. "guidance? Is that what you call it? she made a spectacle out of my struggles, and now I'm left feeling exposed and humiliated."

he gazes at you, "well.. that wasn't my intention! why are you mad at me?"

"intentions don't matter now," you reply, tears welling up in your eyes. "you didn't bother to ask me how I felt, what i needed. you made decisions for me without my consent, and now I'm left picking up the pieces."

silence hangs in the air as both of you struggle with the weight of the situation. the room feels suffocating, and you can see the conflict in his eyes.

finally, he speaks in a barely audible voice. "what can I do now? how can I make it right?"

you take a deep breath, your voice softening as you speak through tears. "right now, i need some space. please, just leave me alone for now."

he stands there, the weight of his actions evident on his face. without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you to confront the pain on your own.

[who-is-shades]

raz dnd 26

rick introduces himself to parsley. they shake hands nice. he looks at the ruins and says it was his prior target. guess were going in. he wants to see what his target was before finding a new purpose. its badly damaged since its been 900 years.

he has a zoom feature xD wheatley checks if he does lol. many of his features have been forgotten. wheatley zooms in on parsleys face lol. crumbled walls block the path. parsley flies over it. ricky fucking springs up the ledge wtf. of course wheatley wanna does that. he fails. senna helps him up. teya uses the broom and it smacks her. senna says she will help her but the broom suddenly shoots straight up!

ricky just goes to scout ahead. wheatley grabs the edge nice. the broom stops midair and goes into freefall. parsley goes to catch her but the broom moves to the side and keeps falling the asshole. parsley manages to catch the broom and he goes for a ride xD parsley threatens to put it in the token. it starts spinning fucking hell toward the ground. it stops fucker. talk about whiplash. at least their in the city.

senna zen and android get up somehow lol. parsley is just laughing on the ground and teya just weakly thumbs up. senna tells teya to compliment it. teya is just pissed. we dont see ricky. wheatley pings and hears one in the distance so we follow.

its barely a city now its all just rubble. some of the buildings have scorched stones and are blackened. wheatley comments he doesnt like that. android said it might not be just time that took the city down. senna rubs the stone to check how old it is. pretty freakin old. teya finally catches up. she scolds the broom and it shoves her lol. as soon as teya takes out the token it begins zooming around. it jabs her in the back lol. the broom got a 1 in the token it goes!

parsley asks where things go in the tokens. zen says its stored like bags of holding, connected to the domain. if the tokens get full it just wont let stuff in. its got a big limit. zen says not to put people in there they wont have air. wheatley could do it tho lol.

wheatley keeps pinging. we hear a ping but its rapid fire! run! wheatley pulls out his gun! zen and android fucking zoom off too. we make it to ricky, hes surrounded by more bots! one of them charges ricky and he dodges it. wheatley shoots one and it drops dead, the others have red eyes! they divide heading to wheatley and ricky! wheatly shocking graps one the fucking moron. thankfully he kills it but the other bots surround him and place the things on him! wheatley resists thank god. zen punches off a bot and android begins shooting!

parsley arrives! he tries to turn off a bot. he failed and hit it head first. senna and teya arrive! teya fireballs near rick. he keeps trying to dodge. senna scorch rays them and uses sanctuary on rick. wheatley sprints to rick. rick is doing a great job avoiding since senna sanctuary'd him. wheatley uses his handaxe on the nearest bot and kills it. zen crushes his bot and android stabs his. parsley stabs it in the eye with his dagger. ricky grabs the remaining bot and bashes his knee in his eye.

wheatley checks for any other dangers then tackles and hugs rick lol. good job ricky. wheatley says we should get him a ward but zen thought they were sending him to gods, but its fine. he gives ricky his :( senna puts her foot down and says no, she will keep ricky warded as much as possible. ricky has found a symbol he recognizes. carved into the wall. The Noble Ember.

yep weve seen that before. ricky has old files about them. Enemy of the god of constructs and novis. wheatley says we saw it in the fish villiage. teya says they werent with the times its ancient lol. the carving dates about 890 years. teya says it cant be relevant anymore. ricky isnt up to date lol. parsley asks why they keep coming up.

ricky pulls files. A Radical group lead by Lazris, God of Ash and Souls. Lead a mighty army to attack places that worshipped other gods. wheatley hates this lol. thats all the info he has access too rn. The noble ember is the reason they got built, at least at first. A defense.

rick got what he came here to do. time for him to go. wheatley tells him to look for lil bro if he needs a guide. rick salutes and zen pulls out a portal for him. bye ricky! parsley wanders off then comes back eating moss lol.

(moss stole kay's wife btw)

android asks if parsley just puts anything in his mouth. parsley laughs so hard he chokes. wheatley says he thinks he knows what it is and parsley laughs harder. android just stares at wheatley lol and scoffs. teya side eyes wheatley lol. parsley asks wheatley where he learned that. 'your mom!' then says hes been around at bars and armies lol. parsley laughs even more.

senna is tracing the wall symbol. zen goes over and asks if shes ok. she just turns around and walks away. android fucking follows her wtf why. senna goes about picking up pebbles. "you seem to be quite familiar with this symbol." she nods and says her lady told her a lot about them. her goddess, Izaris. he says hes never heard of her. she says their main task is to help. his god wouldve known. shes been in there for about 300 years she doesnt know how old the religion is. The goddess of Hope. senna continues to pick up pebbles.

he says no new gods have risen in that time. senna isnt an official acolyte so she doesnt know. hes gonna ask his god about this. senna says she hasnt spoken to her lately, she might be mad at her for working with another god. he wants her to call her god. she gets into her usual meditative stance, then her head slumps forward. she hears nothing and sighs and gets up. senna goes back to getting pebbles.

meanwhile parsley and wheatley are wrestling lol.

he asks if her god is usually this silent. usually no, but the last couple of months its been less and less. perhaps her god is losing power. senna fills with despair. 'that means something happaned, right?' he didnt mean to say that outloud. senna does appreciate that honesty though. or her god is too busy could be that. senna just holds her hands together, bothered. he sighs and manages to ask her whats wrong lol. she opens her mouth to say something but shuts up and says its probably nothing.

he sighs (in relief the asshole) and drops it. senna offers to play shogi with android. yay he agrees! shes gonna teach him nice. she learned it from her grandfather who got it from overseas. she looks forward to it as he goes back to zen. wheatley is currently suplexing parsley. parsley kicks him in the head xD

time to continue! they keep wrestling lol xD parsley is playing dead pft. wheatley hits him with a brick. no response. wheatley asks senna to fix him and senna is like wtf did you do. android fucking kicks him xD hes alive! parsley kicks him in the knee but it hurts. wheatley says android learned how to roughhouse lol.

wheatley asks senna where she went but she just waves him off cause its time to go. over the walls and onto the path. senna writes shogi rules in the meantime. time for camp! soup!

senna has a spot in the dirt. she seperated the pebbles into black and white, then draws a board in the dirt. she ripes out some pages and sets them out for android. wheatley is tinkering with SP near teya. teya is napping cause shes exhausted lol. zen says she cant sleep yet she needs soup! senna wiped the floor with android.

wheatley yells at senna to go easy on him and senna snaps out of it. she wasnt trained to go easy. she awkwardly says she wasnt allowed to play as a kid, and wasnt allowed to lose. shogi was for planning battle strategies. wheatley asks when he can kill them. 'i think you missed your chance for that.' 'well i hope your doing better now.'

senna apologizes for fucking stomping android but he demands she doesnt. hes gonna get her back. finally some competition! she beats him easily again. hes so mad how did she do that xD again!

SP is poking teya with a stick lol. an hour passes and senna pauses the game for her dragon meditation. they shake hands, good opponents. she leaves the stuff out so he can continue to practice. he calls her a wall lol. wheatley says senna should give him some strategies. senna says she can, but shes gonna knock them over lol. she goes to meditate.

SP throws the stick and tells teya to fetch. SP says parsley taught him lol. wheatley doesnt understand the implication. teya awkwardly plays along and uses mage hand. SP stops and says ispy! parsley guesses the stick. parsley sees something shiny and feeds rouge. wheatley finishes tinkering with sp and sp goes to stare at the dirt board.

android is chilling against a tree thinking. parsley approaches and android fucking grimaces lol. hes fidgeting nervously wtf he wants to speak to him? android looks at him like wtf? he rolls his eyes and says what. parsley wants to talk about ricky numbers xD android is being difficult lol. parsley groans in frustration. he says he also changed his name, says he doesnt care what android does, but he gave away his name and no one can misname him. he offers the option to him if he wants. android is like what. he fucking glares at him he wants the motive. parsley says its just an option so he wont get deadnamed. android is so confused. no. declined. parsley nods and says thats fine and he walks off. android is so lost lol.

[shivamtourandtravel]

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[ankhmeanswombman]

I used to rail against this type of reasoning, but after freeing myself of all groupthink I honestly dont see the problem, considering most females suffer from mental illness and actually enjoy being treated in a subpar manner, in a sexual context and non-sexual context alike. Given that fact, it is understandable why many interesting women see nb as a nice subculture to be a part of. Non conformists always had subcultures, what is the difference between this and punk rock? considering most female nbs dont self mutilate ie: "transition" hence why they get labelled "trenders". The majority of the women I have ever met accepted their lowly status, and those women who do not, are and should be free to "identify" as they wish and distance themselves from the MAJORITY. My only critique is that they should be more mindful of the company they keep as many trans-identified nondysphoric males are dangerous to be around (hence why I think the whole "t4t" thing is potentially harmful). I will not pretend that there is no difference between the free and the unfree. This difference warrants differing terminology. It is a lie at this point to say there is no intellectual or energetical difference between a tomboy (the minority it seems) and the vast majority of post-witch hunt slave-minded "feminine" dolls. So why are "radical" feminists so against us breaking out of the man-made "woman" (wifman, wife of man) category?? I guess its a misery loves company type mentality, they want more women on board to circle-jerk/trauma-bond with, about the patriarchy that their hetwomen sisters continue to birth into existence by having sons and handmaid-daughters. Nbs want nothing to do with the harsh m/f divide, they are free to have this opinion. Trans and trads both seem to understand the difference between free and unfree women, so why dont radfems step up and stop ignoring some blaringly obvious differences between these two types of females? If a female sees herself as "they", that is no problem to me, and just another part of the singularity that will be coming through at the peak of the Age of Aquarius. From what I see, most nbs think individualistically which is a good thing. They have eyes to see, see they are different, and form a collective around these differences (mannerisms, self expression, self image, etc). Many female nbs grew up bullied by hetwomen. This will not change for as long as heterononsense exists, because heteros naturally dislike and/or do not understand LGB, and they cant help it, but many will not say so publicly in the parts of the world currently embracing androgynous identities. LGB is alien to them because obtaining hetero sex & romance is their primary life objective and LGB do not share in this objective. Thankfully, heterononsense is doomed and we should embrace those who dont cosign it.

:/

[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.

[hymnsofheresy]

you can ignore this!! i just wanted to say it. everyone always says that jesus is yknow eaiting to be let in. well i feel like the door is a gigantic plexiglass wall that was built without my knowledge and im watching staring at him and cant . open it. i know the theory i understand it but any tools (prayer meditation mass) just bounce right off. i would love to feel him but i have this little cube around me that wont let anything through and it sucks

A revelation that came to me a while back was that there is literally nothing separating me and God. There is no latter to climb for there is no distance. There is no veil to tear because there is nothing dividing us. There are sometimes months where I simply feel nothing, but it doesn't bother me as much as it used it. Just know that it's okay not to feel anything. It is okay to have doubts.

Sometimes Christ's presence isn't some abstract concept that must be "obtained." It might take an unexpected form; we just have to be open to its presence. I often feel Christ in the blessings of homeless people. I feel Him in the hugs of the grieving. I feel Christ when I hold hands with a child as we cross the street. Sometimes Christ is more powerful in these moments than in any ritual setting, because Christ is Love.

[lumaxramblings-moved]

okay okay okay but "if i could tell her" from dear evan hansen for lumax.

max is talking softly to dustin on steve's couch (s4 era) she's talking about how she used to be. a past max, of sorts.

max, quietly: she thought lucas was awesome

dustin: she thought he was awesome? max?

max: yeah.

dustin: how?

max, leaning back: she said....there's nothing like his smile, sort of subtle and perfect and real, and *smiles to herself* he never knew how wonderful that smile could make someone feel

dustin chuckles, nods, before gesturing for max to keep going.

max: and she knew, whenever he got bored he scribbled stars on the cuffs of his jeans :)

max, getting more confident: and she noticed that he still filled out the quizzes that they put in those teen magazines *laughs*

but her smiles disappears and she glances down at her lap.

max: but she kept it all inside her head, what she saw she left...unsaid, and though she wanted to, she couldn't talk to him, she couldn't find a way...but she would always say

she stands up.

max: 'if i could tell him, tell him everything i see, if i could tell him, how he's everything to me. but we're a million worlds apart....and i don't know how i would even start *sighs* if i could tell him....'

max goes silent, and dustin nudges her.

dustin, smiling a little: did she say anything else?

max: about him?

dustin, faltering a little when he sees how quiet max is: no, i didn't mean, i just-

max: no, no, she said so many things, i'm just trying to remember the best ones...so.....*chuckles nervously*

she looks up at him, then at the ceiling.

max: she said, he looked really cute - *realizes dustin's there* uhhhhh, it looked pretty cool when he put indigo streaks in his hair

dustin: yeah!

max, getting a little energized thinking about lucas: and she wondered how he learned to dance like all the rest of the world wasn't there *she beams at the memory*

she stands up and starts to pace.

max: but she kept it all, inside his head, what she saw, she left unsaid....if i could tell him, tell him everything i see, if i could tell him, how he's everything to me...but we're a million worlds apart. and, god, i don't know how i would even start.....if i could tell him

she gets more passionate, frustrated.

max, hopelessly: but what do you do when there's this great divide?

dustin, sympathetically: he just feels so far away....

max: and what do you do, when the distance is too wide?! it's like i don't know anything!

she stops right in place, realizing something.

max, quieter than ever: and how do you say....i love you?

dustin nearly falls off the couch in surprise.

max, getting more confident in her realization, accepting it: i love you......i love you....

dustin's eyes suddenly focus on something behind max, his eyebrows shooting up, and there's....lucas.....standing in the doorway, who witnessed the whole thing. max whirls around and terror fills her eyes.

max, quieter than ever, almost a question: i love you?

lucas' expression goes from shocked to soft, and he slowly walks toward her as dustin gives them some space by leaving.

lucas, tenderly: but we're a million worlds apart......

he tucks a stray hair behind her ear when he reaches her and max relaxes.

max, almost laughing giddily: and i don't know how i would even start.

lucas and max, together: if i could tell her/him......

it hits max then: they've been having the same problem. they both love each other but were too scared to say it. god, she thinks, we're such idiots, as she smiles up at lucas and rests her forehead on his.

max, the softest ever: if i could......

lucas smiles, leans in, and BAM, cut to black.

if i could tell her with lumax <3 i love this idea sm <3

I CAN TELL. I am sleeby so im cant properly analyze this but its so so so cute and i love it sm. they r everything :]

[full-of-mercy]

Counter to his injured stiffness, the heart-stuttering moments of pain and partial paralysis, Vash can move now. He can move with certainty, with grace. Despite his fluidity, Wolfwood has no doubt that the blond still aches—but it is a wonder what a little time, a little cleaning up, can do.

The pitch-shift of adrenaline to delirium to serum slamming through his veins to this, alive, living and breathing and in close proximity on the edges of something like confession, it is all almost too much. Nearly overwhelmed, he finds that he wants to return to the hissing embrace of warm water and quiet leaning, lingering contact beyond necessity. Just because. Just for the sake of it.

It wouldn't do to interfere with dressing, even if the thought shows in the tinge of his face, in the timbre of his hum—assent, velvety and soft and carrying the scant distance between them on matters of an exchange. He liked the idea of it then. Now that they are in a position to actualize, now that they have admitted to Wants, whether or not they feel they deserve it… he wants.

He makes no secret of watching, distracted and focused in the same beat. He even meets Vash's searching glance with a cant of head that bares his neck to scrutiny, a little cocky, a little challenging, even if for the moment he keeps his hands to himself.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he chuffs an amused sound, loping over to where his laundered clothes were stacked. Funny how one more pleasant mess became a saving grace.

"…why's it always gotta come back to doughnuts?" he asks before he really thinks about it, because this all started with doughnuts too. "And what'cha gonna call it, hm? Hickeyitis? Toothy Flu? Best be careful, it might be contagious." Mid-chuckle, his attention slants toward the contrasting vents in the sides of Vash's tank-top. Are they for ventilation, or simply for aesthetics? Nicholas does not know, but as he tosses his towel aside and dresses himself with efficient muscle memory, he wrestles with the temptation to see how his fingers fit in the negative spaces of fabric.

Damn it. Down, boy.

Latching his sidearm harness over his half-buttoned shirt, he rolls his shoulders. The stretch creaks the burnished leather and pops his lower back, prompting a breathy grunt.

"Keep an ear out or get some rest. Gonna be a long night drivin' and would be a longer day with 'em chasing."

A pause, and he finally looks back in Vash's direction, shrugging his jacket on and starting to transfer belongings from his battered vestments. The mayor paid for the service up front. Perhaps Nick should have questioned more about the urgency of the situation.

Maybe he should've known that shotgun wedding doesn't just mean rushed.

"Said something about 'until sundown,' right? I'm feelin' a finish-the-contract mood."

A petty mood, he really means. A screw the nomadic family, let the kids have their lives mood. Maybe it is a touch romantic, maybe it is simply a matter of course. Tap-tap he fishes a cigarette out of his crumpled pack, perching it up in his lips as he starts dividing the dense roll of double dollars. Some for the pockets, some for the bag, some for Vash's bag. Best not to have it all in one place.

Especially not with the sounds of rabble hunting through the streets, still on the other mesa but canvassing closer. They really must not have believed whoever witnessed Vash's flight. They can hear something downstairs, the slam and bolt-latch of doors; the innkeeper must be in-house and must not want to bother with the nonsense.

"Be easier to run dark tonight, they'll pick us out miles away if they've got the light."

Vash peeks out from his towel curtain with a wide tooth-baring grin, "Hey, plenty more where those came from. Maybe when we're somewhere safe I can reapply those." He starts toweling off his hair and wraps another around his waist. As much as they probably should hurry, Vash's legs reflect his desire to move quickly—which is not at all.

As he flirts, his movements match with dainty twists of his hips and leg stretches, arching his back like a cat as he dries off legs and feet. "And honestly, I could do better," his eyes scan the undertaker's neck, sizing up a spot with a closed eye and a squint, "You ever see a hickey the size of a donut? Big and purple, red... people will think you've got a rash or a disease, it'll be great. Bet it'd look so pretty on your skin."

Dropping the towel, he searches his bag and finds clean, black compression shorts and well-worn socks. The shorts fit to the contours of his scarred runner's legs; despite rumors of the Stampede's lack of particular assets due to his coat revealing little about his body, his spine transitions to muscular thighs with no shortage of curves and valleys. He has no shame displaying them for the one other person tangentially in the room.

The outlaw stretches to his full height, reaching his arms up, grabbing one, grabbing the other, "Reminders, huh? I think I can manage that. Wouldn't mind some in return—our exchange, hmm?" A wink is perfectly audible through the tone in his voice. Just as much as he wants to show Wolfwood how much he desires him, Vash wants to be wanted as well—not that he'll ever admit it. Validation has been few and far between in his life; good or bad, he's only wandered and thrived based on his own judgment of himself and his decisions.

For a man who has been his own judge, jury, and executioner—a harsh one, at that—for someone to tell him that he matters, that they want to be with him... he'd never considered how it'd feel, since he always shoved the possibility to the wayside. Now that he has someone who will challenge him or motivate him or praise him, he doesn't know what to do with it. Doing the same in turn is a start.

Grabbing his extra shirt—another sleeveless black tank, this time with straps over gaps on the sides—Vash slides into it and into his dark-blue jeans. He glides over to the pile of bloody clothing and leans over his crouched companion before picking his black leather chaps out and donning those next. Finally, he sits on the edge of the bed and begins the tedious work of strapping his ink-dark leather steel-toed boots to the knee.

Once he's finished with that, he'll be ready to run again—this time prepared to run.

He gives his hair a comb back with some mousse he keeps in his pack, flicks his citrine glasses on, reloads his gun, and patiently waits for Wolfwood to be ready as well.

"Need me to do anything?" Vash asks as his arms reach through the sleeves of his coat—his left half-sleeve tucks neatly into a space in his prosthetic, "I can keep an ear out for our pursuers otherwise."

[spnshameblog]

I'm interested to know what you stance on Misha is after all this. peope seem to be pretty divided about this. has your opinion of him changed?

ok, i think this is gonna be a bit wordy. ive been in this fandom on and off for about a decade. if you follow a show and its actors for that many years, you are going to see them act in ways you cant support. everyones boundaries are different and ive withdrawn my support for people over things that other might find laughable, so i would never say that he hasnt done anything so bad that people should "unstan" him. personally, i dont think he has done something so bad that i cant ever support him again. over the decade he has said and posted some really dumb and sometimes offensive shit and i cant give you an itemised list of all happenings, but iirc he almost always apologised and i dont remember him making the same mistake twice. so if he says he apologises and is learning, i want to believe him, i just have no idea what thats going to look like.

see, a lot of us arent upset about a "misfired joke", if anyone else had done that people would be like "haha embarassing, lets move on", but a lot of people genuinely assumed him to be queer even before he made that comment, which is proven by the thousands of comments going like "i thought he had been out this entire time". a huge amount of people drew the conclusion, based on his actions and his words, that he wasnt straight, even though he personally never said so. so the thing most people are upset about is that theyre now having to recontextualise years (in my case a decade) of stuff we consciously or subconsciously interpreted as evidence. YES you shouldnt assume someones identity, but its not like he dissuaded people from speculating. quite the opposite and that is another reason why people are upset.

they feel like misha has been deceiving them, using his ambiguity for attention and support from lgbt people and theyre not entirely wrong. a lot of stuff can, in hindsight, be explained by him noticing that his fans seem to really respond to him acting a certain why, so why not act that up a little. what i take issue with is the claim that most of his personality and his support for queer causes were to garner support from queer people. i dont know the guy and i cant make any definitive statements, but i believe he is really mostly like that lmao. he has talked about how people are surprised by how, for a lack of a better word, 'unmasculine' or emotionally open he is. if he was just 'acting up the gay' around fans, then why have his colleagues and friends also commented on this? and he definitely has had to experience homophobic microaggressions esp on the set of spn, which doesnt make sense if hes like, a normal macho dude when fans arent watching. again, yes, i totally believe he purposefully exaggerated some of it bc fans eat that shit up and if nothing else hes a people pleaser. and also sometimes straight guys just act a little gay, idk what to tell you.

so now theres the theory that it actually WAS an honest comment, but for some reason he decided he needed to go back into the closet. now, if someone states their own orientation THIS explicitly im bound to accept that, however i can see where this theory is coming from, given that there are some instances that simply cant be explained as jokes or him acting up the gay etc. at least from our perspective. so idk buddy, he might be, he might not be. however i dont agree with the sentiment that him going back in the closet is funny. like ive seen posts like "funniest outome would be him actually coming out in 5 years and nobody believes him" idc if im a little softie, but that idea isnt funny to me at all. IF he ever comes out, im fully prepared to believe him immediately, even if it makes me look like a clown again.

so i can empathise with people having all kinds of reactions to this from trying to make sense of it, to distancing themselves, from trying to forget about it, to dragging him for filth, imho all valid reactions. i dont agree with people saying that this situation is the fault of the fans, ive said multiple times that this specific situation and the fact that people were so ready to believe he's bi were misha's own doing. and i dont agree with people saying he is a master manipulator who has been tricking lgbt people out of their money for years by being a 24/7 gay for pay.

so tl;dr: idk lol? im waiting to see how his behaviour changes after these events, but aside from being really confused i cant say my opinion of him has changed that much?

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :) Part 5

If you don’t get to fight Batman on your class trips I feel sorry for you because Marinette did and she had a great time. Besides from the fact the miracle box went missing that was kind of a downer.

First< Previous >Next

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

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe yells at her, Marinette pops her head up through the trash, “Just what do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m looking for something Chlo,” Marinette tries not to betray the panic in her voice.

“You did not ditch us today to search the trash!” Chloe practically screeches, stomping her foot.

“Chloe! I just really, really need to find this ok?!” Chloe actually recoils at Marinette snapping at her, guilt claws at her, adding more scratches to her conscience, “Sorry, I’m just stressed,”

“You need to relax Mari,” Chloe sighs, she cant, she cant! She cant! “I will only forgive you if you come upstairs and have a shower right now ,”

Marinette glances to Tikki, who nods. They’ve searched the trash here three times over, the Miracle box isn’t here. She lets Chloe lead her upstairs, the ground feels like it's swaying under her feet. The pressure like she’s about to vomit has persisted for hours.

“I will be standing right here, so don’t even think about leaving before you are rid of that smell,” Chloe pushes her into the bathroom.

“Tikki what am I supposed to do,” Marinette curls into herself, as soon as the door closes “I looked everywhere, it-it’s gone ,”

“It’s alright Marinette I’m sure you’ll find it, you just need to think things through,” Tikki pats her arm, not blaming her even once, making everything so much worse.

“Exactly, so chin up,” Kaalki commands, Marinette listens looking at the hovering Kwami with swimming vision, “Now make a theory and we’ll work from there,”

“Only Adrien was in the apartment but he didn’t take it,” Marinette works through her thoughts, “I know he wouldn't have,”

“Good,”

“He was gone for two hours talking with Chloe and Kagami,”

“Exactly,”

“So someone stole it during that time,” Marinette had already concluded that but it was nice to lay it all out, “I thought it was Lila, but she would have just thrown it out,”

“Or,”

“Or kept it,” Marinette gets the picture, formulating a plan, “I have to search her room, as Starling they can get away with it,”

“Good I’ll transport you in there,” Kaalki nods, dipping into her bag to get a sugar cube, “Now change,”

Marinette listens and within minutes they are in Lila's room. The shower running back in Chloe's room. Starling pokes around the room, searching under the bed and in the closet. She spreads out to the whole apartment since Lila isn’t sharing with anyone.

She is opening the oven when the door opens. She freezes, coming eye to eye with Lila. In a split second Starling darts into the bathroom.

“Come out of there!” Lila bangs on the door, “Who are you! I’m calling the police!”

Marinette doesn't give her the chance, teleporting out of the bathroom.

Chloe fights to make her come to dinner that night. Marinette doesn't have the strength to argue and so is dragged along, glaring at Lila from across the table. Lila just looks smugly back, she has to know where the Miracle box is, she just has to.

“Is that the new Wayne?” Marinette hears someone across the restaurant whisper.

Wonder who they’re talking about

“The one with the pink scarf?”

Oh

“Take a picture!”

If Marinette could summon the energy she would go over and ask what they meant. Or tell them they had the wrong person. Instead she just hides her face in her arms, lying on the table.

“Head off the table,” Madame Bustier chides, Marinette listens, but doesnt bother answering.

“Oh Marinette,” Lila’s voice is so grating she is ready to send her head through the table, “You look just terrible, what happened?”

You

“Are you ok Marinette,” Rose asks, she was actually nice to Marinette either unaware of the divide or not caring, “Do you want to go back?”

Marinette supposes Lila never had to lie about her to Rose. As she was already running around after Lila trying to make sure she was comfortable, Marinette just fell by the wayside. Either way Marinette can see that changing in the near future with how livid Lila looks that Marinette got the slightest bit of positive attention.

“I know jetlag can be bad, with all my travels,” Could you get to the part where you antagonise me already? “But don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?

“Sure Lila,” Marinette sighs, actually getting a few shocked gasps from the class.

They all probably thought that if Lila said the sky was blue Marinette would disagree. Well she would probably double check. Plus the sky is black at night. And multicoloured during sunrise and sunset. You know what? Screw it, Marinette would not trust Lila if she said the sky is blue.

“So Lila,” Alya speaks up, “ What's the worst jet lag you’ve ever had?”

“Well..”

Marinette doesn’t bother listening. She does get the side eye from Alya.

This doesn't mean I like you

Feelings mutual buddy

However it does allow her to lean against Kagami for the rest of the night and doze off. Marinette doesn't pay anymore attention to Lila’s lies the rest of the night until it comes to getting back to the hotel. They are all piling into taxis when Lila weasels her way into getting her own. Covertly Marinette slides a hundred to the driver and sends them to a less than savoury part of town. Now it’s just up to Starling to keep up.

Luckily for her Lila decides to be an idiot, and actually gets out of the car. So Starling drops in front of her when the taxi drives off.

“You!” Lila backs up into the alley, really ?

“You stole something,” Starling stalks forward, appearing every bit of threatening as a sleep deprived guardian of the miraculous can be, which is pretty fucken scary when the Miracle box is on the line, “Where is it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Lila tears up.

“Do not lie to me ,” Starling punctuates the threat by bending a discarded metal pipe in half.

Lila squeaks, as she backs up against the wall, Starling cages her in.

“WHERE IS IT!”

The absolute terror on Lila’s face is so gratifying for a moment. Then a cold terror runs down Marinette as Lila smiles. The same smile that promises to ruin her life every day.

“Help!” Lila cries, her voice quavering in a poor imitation of the actual fear she just saw, “Please anyone!”

Anyone turns out to be the hand on her shoulder that rips Starling back. They go to grab her arm but she flips out of their grasp, getting enough distance to come face to face with The Batman!

Before she can even think about formulating a response Batman lashes out, going straight for her gut. Starling side steps, twisting around to stand in Batman’s blind spot, making him turn to see her.

“Why are you attacking a civilian?” He demands, a knife she dodges barely grazing her cheek.

“She stole something,” Marinette drops down as he swings a punch at her head.

“That’s not true!” Lila cries, huddled up against the wall, “They broke into my hotel room today! And then they attacked me! They’re trying to kidnap me!”

“She’s lying!” Apparently that’s not convincing enough as she dodges a kick, having to roll away, thankfully towards the exit.

She tries to make a run for it, getting halfway up the fire escape of the next building when a Batarang pins her cape down. She tears it out, throwing it back at the shadow who hangs in midair.

Wow that is not aerodynamic at all

She watches as it tapers off to the side, falling to the ground. Batman swings onto the staircase of the fire escape. She dodges, she slips on a stair, losing her balance. Batman aims a punch for her sternum she has no choice but to block. It hurts getting an armoured glove full impact onto her relatively light arm guards. In her defense she never prepared to fight The Batman.

He seems to be taken aback that she is able to block his punch, or is re-planning. She takes the opportunity to use her bit of super strength to push him off the fire escape, double checking he still has his grappling hook. He falls down as she bolts up the stairs. By the time she reaches the top he is already on the roof

She has no weapons to defend herself against another Batarang. She can’t slip away like she did last time so has no choice but to dodge.

“I don’t want to fight you!” She yells, rolling out of the way of another Batarang.

“I’m sure you don’t,”

“Not like that!” There's no reasoning with him then, he made up his mind and is going to beat her before asking any questions, “You know what never mind!”

She sprints to the edge of the building. He doesn’t particularly try to stop her, after all he thinks she has no escape route. Which means he was not expecting her to jump right off the building.

“Kaalki, Full gallop,” She says quietly to her Kwami, putting on her glasses.

She transforms, opening a portal inches from the ground, she lands in her hotel bedroom. Dropping the transformation, she collapses onto the bed. She pants lungs burning, soon she realises she hasn't been taking any air.

What does she have to be stressed about? So she lost the Miracle box, an ancient treasure able to harness the gods? So it was all her fault for shirking off her duties for fun. So it was all her fault that she technically attacked a civilian without any proof. So it was her fault Batman attacked her and she’s probably a criminal now. So what?

She chokes around words, apologies to her Kwamis, to Master Fu, to everyone she has failed today. Instead her vision blurs and she has to take gasping breaths, shuddering in the warm room. She curls up on top of the blankets tucked in too tight to provide her with comfort. Too perfect, too well done, everything she isn’t.

Tikki nuzzles into her cheek, Marinette shudders out a breath, curling more into herself. Kaalki comes to rest near her heart. The magical thrum of the Kwami calming her heart beat. There are no words. There don’t need to be. There’s no one here to send Akuma after them. For once Marinette can cry, let her emotions run rampant. Then she’ll harness everything she has into protecting the Miracle box.

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

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[sokkas-first-fangirl]

Hi! Sorry if I bother you, but lately I have this idea for a little mermaid Yax and I was hoping to share it with someone (you dont have to write it, of course, I only want to share this idea and since you are one of my favorite animaniacs writters I thought it will be cool if I share it here, is kinda long one, so I divided it and you decides if you want to post it or not) (1)

“mytimetoread” also submitted:

Since we are in mermay I saw some really cool fanarts of the Warner siblings, and a few with implicated Yax…. But this is the thing: I really can't imagine Yakko being like Ariel you know? I mean, he loves his siblings and talking is his mechanism of defense, I really dont see him giving his voice in order to left his home for a new found crush. (2)

And this is when the idea bubbles to me: what if his transformation was without consent? What if someone stolen his voice and the transformation was a secondary effect of that? (3)

 Before I get more into this I want to clarify that I'm still not sure who will play the role of Ursula here… or if there will be an Ursula at all; the one who steal the voice of Yakko could be someone who isn't a mer-people (for a moment I thought in King Salazar, but I dont throw away the idea of using a Disney character here) (4)

Anyway, mer-people shouldn't be seen by surface people… but of course, the Warner siblings doesnt like to follow rules and sometimes makes little pranks to sailors and travel people (nothing too bad, they are just curious but they doesn't want to be caught either), but one night they saw a wrecking ship for a storm and decides to help the people gets safe. Is here when Yakko saw Max and (of course) fall in love with him. (5)

The thing here is that Yakko knows that this is a one-sided love since he cant reveal himself to Max, and also he discovers later that Max have a girlfriend (Roxanne), but he keeps watch him in the distance sometimes. What Yakko DOESNT know is that Max did remember being saved by a misteryous toon and he keeps thinking about it, convinced that wasnt a dream or allucination. (6)

Years passed (yes, you read right, YEARS) and is like any other normal day for the Warner siblings when a misterious shadow pass in the surface where they are and before they understand what is happening Yakko starts his transformation right there! (Wakko: holy Spielberg what is happening??? Dot: you think I know??? Wakko: he is drowning!) (7)

So Wakko and Dot had to act quick and save Yakko before he drown (what is incredibly confusing indeed) and they take him to the surface. When they are in the beach is when they notice that Yakko can't speak either and that is a nightmare for the poor guy who doesn't understand how that happen, and every time he tries to speak feels an horribly pain in his throat. (8)

Wakko and Dot tried their best to calm him down and decides that they need to found Scratchansniff and Nurse (yes, they are mer-people too here), to see if they could know how to help Yakko. But before they could do that they sense some people are comming and they had to hide and before Yakko could do that too (he is still learning how this legs things works) he is found by… the little princes Huey, Dewey and Louie. (9)

I saw the idea of Janetbrown711 where Mickey, Donald and Goofy are co-rulers of the kingdom and I LOVE this idea, so I decided to incorporate that here, so that makes the triplets and Max the princes of the land, wich, btw I'm very tempted to call it Fantasia or just Disney, but I think I like more the first one (10)

*

Hi! 💕

I like the idea! You can never go wrong with Mermay/Little Mermaid AUs (and of course I’m a massive sucker for Yax 😏) And I know what you mean, Yakko giving up his voice and leaving his siblings doesn’t feel right

Huey, Dewey and Louie finding Yakko is adorable, plus they’re a chaotic little trio as well! It really works 💕

Plus, Wakko and Dot singing Kiss The Girl? Anyone having a Poor Unfortunate Souls moment? Iconic 

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

Auron and LuLu and you know what Wakks for the lols

OH BOY I HOPE YOURE READY FOR SOME MORE  BRUTALITY BECAUSE i always thought that ffx characters divide in three very specific categories

i hate them - missed potential - auron and yuna

lucky for us. auron and yuna are the best tier and i still stand by the fact that they should’ve been the main characters of ffx

this man is easily one of the best characters ever written in the saga. i adore his sarcasm, his apparent attempts at distancing himself to the others, his motivations and plots... AND he’s a powerhouse, i can’t help but stan

other than that, i’ll give them that. his introduction (and ffx’ intro in general, with sin destroying zanarkand) REALLY is one of the best in the series.  i’m a simple woman. i see a man calmly walking through the apocalypse, i fall in love with him

BONUS POINT: he’s also incredibly on point in kingdom hearts. i love how they worked his “lore” in kh, and in my opinion he works great as hades’ attempt lackey - far more than poor cloud did I generally keep donald and goofy in my party, but... auron is one of the very few exceptions. we stan a legend

CONTINUING UNDER READ MORE bc this post is going to get long gsdf

poor lulu... how i love you, and how underrated and underused you are

she easily falls in the “missed potential” category. her reasons to try again to be a guardian - knowing very well what would happen to her “little sister” if they succeeded - touches my heart, and i think they at least TRIED to build a friendship with tidus, with her and up to macalania... i can see that. they don’t have many interactions, maybe, but the few they have are really strong plot moments. they bond over their love for yuna, and it would’ve been nice to see her conflicted about tidus being around, if really he looked so much like chappu.

i’m not saying i wanted a love triangle, far from it - but i feel like she could’ve had some more lines to actually lament on it

unfortunately, like most of the cast... i don’t feel she grows much. with the plot being mostly focused on yuna and tidus (and lowkey auron), her troubles and her worries get tossed a little too much on the side to fully grow to be the great character she could’ve been.

also i know all those belts are stupid and cringe but i legit got a Belts Phase because of nomura and specifically her and also consider: having her AND auron around activates my bi energy and i want to kiss her

      ESPECIALLY so she doesn’t get with Fucking Wakka

LOOK, I GET IT

i get that his character arc is about learning to be Not Racist, and i think that it might be really interesting to have such a negative “comic” relief emphasis on might tho, because lemme tell ya Do I Hate Wakka afnsdmg

i genuinely couldn’t care less for him during the entire game, his jokes were far from being funny, i kept feeling like he was going to shove an entire Yevon Bible(tm) down my throat whenever he spoke and im NOT vibing with that but the SECOND i decided he was not worth my time was right after the al bhed base blew up i get it they were trying to make him understand that, hey! maybe he should stop being a complete asshole to a 15 years old (someone ALMOST a decade younger than him, mind you), but upon seeing her home blowing up and everyone being completely distraught, all he did was joking about it?!

“haha lol look it went off like fireworks ya :))”

rikku should’ve pushed him off the airship and i cant fucking believe lulu procreated with this waste of polygons

(as im being dragged away from the stage) aLSO HIS HAIR SUCKS AND HE’S BAD AT BLITZBALL--