#I was suddenly violently overcome with just how much I missed writing this asshole for Boram so??

[mythvoiced]

@theimpalpable | 👀🦊🐲

"It's like a little fantasy of sorts, maybe, I guess," relationships should be about communication, right? And Hyun has never met a more communicative person than chief of her heart, owner of her being, key to just about any lock of hers, Yeong Boram. If there's anyone who would welcome her, no, if there's anyone who'd want her to be open about... mundane and deep things alike... it'd be him, right?

Then why does it feel so terribly... flustering, still?

She makes a point out of keeping her leaning into the counter behind her with complete and utter nonchalance, so much nonchalance, in fact, that it looks forced.

"You know, I thought... it'd be nice? I could show up at the office and... 'oh, who's that, is that your girlfriend? Wow! How'd you guys meet' and everyone would tell you how pretty I am - because I am, but that's besides the point, I don't want the compliments-"

She's peeling an apple she's lost interest in eating ten minutes ago, which is probably why she's taking so long with it. Or maybe she's taking so long because if she had this conversation without anything to keep her hands busy, she'd actually feel more than a little flush of embarrassment.

Seriously, is it getting hot in here, or-

"Maybe... It sounds silly, I don't need reassurance, I promise, but... I don't know. Could be... fun?"

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

Just Coping

Reiner Braun x femme!crush!Reader

word count: 2406

summary: y/n’s mirror breaks while Reiner hears her crying, and Reiner is on damage control. emotional support ensues. angst and fluff.

a/n: I relapsed a week or so back, so this is my therapy writing. I was abused by my biodad as a child and this contains some irl examples of my feelings and experiences. Given that it’s pretty personal for me and lots of tears and vulnerability went into this, please keep feedback positive, respectful and constructive.

tw: mentions of abuse, assumed self-harm, depression, self-hatred, self-isolation

I can hear y/n sobbing again. Is that all she does now? Being a soldier is supposed to make you tough. Granted, I’m not any better. I knock lightly on the door. She must’ve covered her mouth, because her cries sound a little muffled, though the volume is still there for the most part. “I’m sorry, I’ll be quieter.” She calls. Suddenly I hear glass shatter and a shriek.

I quickly push the door open, and find y/n in her bathroom, standing with her legs against the tub, trying not to step in the broken glass. Her mirror somehow fell off its’ hinges despite being newly installed. I’ll have to report the renovation error. “Are you okay?” I ask, trying to be polite even though the direction of the question could provide two very different answers.

She looks down and whimpers, “I’m sorry.” Since I’m wearing boots, I trudge over through the mess, the crunch of the glass almost sounding like that of snow. “It’s alright. Let me carry you out of the room?” She nods in understanding, and I sweep y/n up bridal style, placing her on the carpet. I grab the standard broom and dustpan behind every door and start sweeping. “So, mind telling me what those other noises were about?” I ask, and hear her footsteps and the creaking of the door closing, the handle clicking into place.

“You would think it’s stupid.” Y/n says. I can tell she’s trying not to start crying again.

“I think you think I would think that, but I still would like to hear it.” I push. “You’ve been crying every day at this point. You’ve been missing from our group for so long that Porco stopped being an asshole to me. It worries me.”

She sniffs. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Well, I care about you, so I’m going to worry anyway. It’s kind of my job,” I state, “As your friend, and as your superior. I need you around, no matter which role I’m playing.” I deposit the swept up shards into the waste bin, put the tools away and cross my arms, leaning against the door frame in wait.

“I-“ She starts, then pauses, taking a deep breath. She looks up at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. A fruitless endeavor, really - sorrow is a wild river, flowing of its’ own accord, without regard for fragility of mind - she squeezes her eyes shut as if to dam the water, keep it from overflowing. “I’m not trying to cry, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize.”

“Sorry, I just- I mean- um.” She fidgets, rubbing the inside of her wrist awkwardly. I notice faint scratches. My stomach flips, and I reach out to grab her hand before she can hide it.

“What is this?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I feel my throat tightening, tears forming at the corners of my eyes. “Why would you do this to yourself? Do you have any idea how many people care about you? Do you have any sense of self-preservation? I- what?”

She’s murmuring something quietly, the tears she tried to trap spilling down her face like rain on a windowpane. She speaks up, just a whisper louder than she was before. “P-p-please l-let go of me.” I realize I’m squeezing her hand and let go, snatching my arms back and stuffing them in my pockets. Why am I so angry? That’s not the kind of person I’m supposed to be. Who am I supposed to be?

Y/n gasps, the sadness too much for tears alone. She starts shaking. “I’m sorry, I just- when I look in the mirror every day, I- I hate myself. I l-ook like him, inside and out, and, and I see-“ She swallows as if she’s trying not to drown and got water in her mouth. “I see what he did to me. I didn’t-“ She looks down. “I didn’t do that to myself, I-“ Another gasp, like she’s struggling to breathe. “It was done to me. When I was in trouble. So were the other marks. Not that I ever got to know what I did wrong.”

So stupid of me. Why did I just assume? Is it just because of my own ideas? God, this is why everybody thinks I’m selfish. “Other marks? He? Who is he? Is he still around?” I ask.

She sits on her bed, tucking her legs beneath her and hugging her knees, making herself visibly small. A whisper: “My dad.” The two words sting like white-hot iron. The gears are spinning in my head - how to find him, how to make him feel the pain his actions caused and then some for good measure. She must notice, because she says, “Please don’t do anything. It’ll just come back around to me.” The fog in my mind clears when I see her scooting away from me, physically distancing herself from my anger. I sigh, calming my violent thoughts.

I climb onto the bed, crawl toward y/n, and wrap her up in the biggest hug I can manage. Partially to comfort her, partially so she doesn’t see my face while hers is buried in my chest. “I am so sorry,” I say. “For what happened to you, about your mirror, and for getting angry. That’s not helpful to you right now.” I can feel her sobbing quietly into my shirt, the tears making it wet. “None of this is your fault.”

Her voice is muffled, but I can make out: “How can I possibly be good? How can I love myself? How can I not hate everything I see when all I see in that stupid, broken mirror is him, and everything he did to me? Why did he do it? What did I do wrong?”

I sigh, holding in the tears belonging to my own eyes. “Because you’re not him. Even if you look like him, that doesn’t mean you did what he did. You’re so kind, y/n, you’re too kind to even let anybody worry about you. You have so many friends and comrades who respect you, respect your integrity, your thoughtfulness, your contributions to not just the mission but to the entire world. Even if you don’t get a fancy plaque or title for it, you stay late, you do extra, you take the time to do your homework when you have an idea, and people look to you for leadership. You make the unit a family, not just an army. You’re more of a warrior than I am, y/n. You fight, every day, to overcome something so huge, and somehow you still have enough left in you to fight a couple other battles for our people, and for humankind. And you do it for all the right reasons. I envy you. I may be a warrior, but you’re a commander, a ruler, an Emperor, yet for some reason, all you want to do is help other people.” I pause, taking a breath. “He did what he did because he, a small minded, selfish excuse for a man, saw something in you that he knows he will never have for himself. That thing is your heart, your spirit, your character. It attracts all kinds of people to you, and he wanted to break your spirit, because he knew he would always be lonely and miserable. You are a good person, with a good heart, and there is nothing you did that places any blame on your shoulders. You were a child, and he was an adult who made choices of his own accord, and he will suffer the consequences of those choices by never feeling your warmth, never feeling your love.”

She looks up at me, shakily raising one of her hands to touch my cheek. Her fingers feel like the sun, dancing on my skin. She really is light, heating everything she touches. I want to close my eyes, lean into her touch, but her e/c eyes bore into mine, sharing this moment with me in its’ fullness. “Thank you.” Y/n says. “I-I don’t know if I can believe everything you said yet, but I want to try. And thank you for being a good friend.” She looks away and lowers her hand, doubt filling her features with lines. I immediately wish it was back where she had it, but I know this isn’t about me right now. She needs a friend. “I just wish I didn’t have to look like him. After he’s done such ugly things-“ A quick glance at her wrist- “I can’t help but feel...” She trails off, burrowing deeper into my embrace.

On cue, I hold her tighter. “Well. I don’t know how much help it is for me to say it, but when I look at you, all I see is you. You truly are beautiful, and no matter the marks he left on you, his efforts will never hide that beauty. I see a person who can gentle any horse, can make any jerk nice-“

She laughs, “Don’t talk about Porco like that!”

“-And you make the people around you better people. You don’t need a Titan form to be powerful. You already are.” I smile. I’m pretty sure Porco likes her, otherwise he wouldn’t mind his manners and his attitude around her. Something stirs in me - what is that? Jealousy? Or just the usual hatred? Whatever. Doesn’t matter right now. “I just wish you could see you through my eyes. You’d realize why everyone cares so much. So, stop keeping your problems to yourself, we’re called your friends for a reason.” I order.

Her face gets a little red. “Oh. Right. I just... didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Bother everyone. You owe yourself that much.” I say, getting up after giving her one more squeeze. “Will you be coming to dinner later? No one’s seen you in public for a week.”

She looks at her feet. “I probably should, just so everyone thinks I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be okay, you know,” I respond, “Just alive, so we can be of help. If you do come, I promise I’ll be nice to Porco. Also, Pieck has been asking about you.”

She smiles. “I do miss Pieck. And Porco. And I missed you, too, Reiner.” Something flutters inside my chest at hearing my name on her on her lips. “But, um. I’m just curious.” She says.

“Hm?” I prompt, giving her my full attention.

“How did you know what to say?” She asks.

I shrug. “I didn’t really know, I just... went with what I would want someone to say to me. I... I can kind of relate. In a way.” I turn the doorknob, but before the door opens, I hear her climb off her bed, rising to her feet. I wait.

“Reiner, I-“ Silence. Her feet pad across the floor, and I feel her arms wrap around me. I let go of the knob and turn to hug her back. “I really appreciate you,” She says quietly. “I’ll come to dinner, if that’s what you want.”

I say, “It’s what everyone wants, but yes, I admittedly, specifically, am hoping you will feel okay enough to show up. Plus, I don’t think staying alone in your room is super healthy.”

“It’s not so lonely when you come to visit.” She says to the buttons of my shirt.

“Perhaps I’ll visit more often, then.” I smile. “Just to check in, of course.” She nods her head and releases me, even though I wish she could’ve held me for just an eternity longer. She really does have healing hugs. I smile one last time, then make my exit, closing the door quietly behind me.

I sigh, the usual tension I feel missing from my shoulders. Even if I didn’t say much, opening up even a tiny bit about my feelings felt... nice. Maybe I’ll start visiting y/n instead of sitting alone in my sadness. She has a way of making me feel better, even when she isn’t trying. And she said she appreciates me! That makes one person, at least. I don’t let the smile I feel ghosting my lips stay for long, but it lingers a few seconds while I head down the hallway to the main corridor.