#i cant get much further without getting hard on myself because i feel like every single word i choose is wrong
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My biggest fear is that I’ll spend so much time beating myself up for not being good at writing that by the time I get the words down, all my passion will have run out and my ideas will have been long expired and I’ll have disappointed everyone by failing yet again to keep my promises
#the klock keeps ticking#i cant ever think about anything else but the stories i wanna write its the only thing i got on my mind its all i want#but i get so stuck in my head that i cant put any words down and when i do i beat them up so much i cant move on#so it takes me a really long time to create nowadays. if i even try#and idk im really tired of this like it isnt just art and writing its how i do everything#i talk about it so much but i never make anything a reality and i stay in one horrible spot forever#and then i complain about how miserable i am that i havent done anything with myself when im too scared to actually do the work of making#things real#like hnnnghh idk i finally forced myself to stop making excuses and just fucking start officially writing the first chapter of my big shinji#project that i keep gushing about in my head but ive only been able to write a few paragraphs#i cant get much further without getting hard on myself because i feel like every single word i choose is wrong#and i also have been sleeping waaaaay worse than usual the past month from extreme stress so im fatigued much easier#and im just scared im gonna spend so much time on this that like by the time ive finished the first chapter i wont even care anymore#which will really suck cuz ive wanted this for so long and for once i just want something of mine to go good i want to make something#that i want possible just to prove im capable of something so basic#its just all this damn pressure AAAAAAAAAAA i hate everything
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For the build-a-birth prompt:
🤰2️⃣(surprise twin)🏙 (Alleyway) 🛑👖
( in a hurry to get back home but ultimately gives in / cant take it anymore)
"And...reason for leaving work early?"
Because I've been having contractions all morning and my water just fucking broke in the bathroom, that's why.
"N-not feeling well." I replied instead. The clearly uninterested and underpaid desk greeter didn't ask anything further, just stated blandly that this wouldn't count as paid time off.
"That's fine, it's fine, see you around." I said hurriedly, turning and leaving before she could say anything else. As soon as I set foot out the door I felt another contraction coming, but clenched my teeth and kept walking, my gait unsteady. All I had to do was make it to my apartment, where I'd left my phone like an idiot, call my boyfriend, and everything would be fine.
It'll all work out, I thought to try and soothe myself, he'll come, he'll take me to the hospital, I won't have to push on the sidew--wait fuck am I pushing??
Without realizing it I'd stopped to steady myself against a building, and my body had decided to take control, my feet spaced apart where I stood and a new pressure beginning to descend.
No, no, fuck...! Taking a deep breath and checking that no one was coming, I slipped into a nearby alley. I reached a trembling hand down under the hem of my pencil skirt, feeling what was almost certainly the bulge of my lips about to part for the head. Before I could talk myself out of it I gently pressed inward, groaning as I undid what progress my baby had attempted.
"Just wait, baby, please..." I murmured desperately, legs shaky as I started moving again. I kept to the alleyway, if I remembered right it'd act as a shortcut to my apartment. It also kept anyone from noticing every time I'd have to stop and keep myself from progressing any further, my panties ruined with my steadily leaking water as I pushed the head back again and again.
Eventually it became too much to bear, and I didn't even recognize what part of the city I'd found myself in. With a resigned sob I pressed my back to the wall, hoping nobody would hear or see me as I gave into what my body had been trying to do all day.
The contractions were stronger and nearly on top of each other now, and now that I wasn't resisting anymore it only took one push before my baby was crowning into my panties, the soaked fabric bulging out as I muffled a cry. My thighs shook as I stood with my feet further apart, my hands between my legs in anticipation of what was to come. Another good hard push yielded one shoulder, then the other, and soon my panties bagged out further as the rest of my baby was born.
I sagged against the building with exhaustion, carefully retrieving my baby and wrapping it in my work blazer. My belly and lower back still throbbed, but I chalked it up to residual pain, possibly the placenta making its exit. As I waited, though, it didn't seem to be letting up. In fact, my still firm belly visibly cramped with discomfort, and a familiar pressure could be felt deep inside.
"Oh n-no...no no, I can't aga--ahhn...!!" I moaned, heart racing as I braced against the wall once more. My blouse was soaked through, both with sweat and from my swollen tits leaking as I fought through another contraction. I couldn't believe it, not only did I end up having to give birth in an unfamiliar alley, but now I'd have to do it again.
"Please, baby, please come o-ouuUUT!" I wept, no longer caring if I was loud, I just wanted it to be born quickly so I could finally go home. Mercifully, it only took another few pushes until at last I held both babies in my arms, their cries echoing in the alley.
#pumpkin answers#pumpkin writes#pregnancy kink#labor kink#birth kink#public birth#birth denial#clothing birth#build a birth#surprise baby
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i find the whole conversation around self-dxing to be interesting too because while self-dxing can indeed be dangerous and bad, on the other hand i am also quite anti-psychiatry, if youve got something youve obviously got it without a diagnosis, and getting a diagnosis can be hard af
like idk i think way too many ppl push this "go get therapy go get professional help and evaluation!!!" thing all the time. as if many therapists and psychs arent stupid af, as if they cant be wrong, as if they cant further traumatize someone, as if they can't be smart and kind ppl but Still get things wrong. and as if the entire psych system for the most part isnt fucked in manyyy ways...... like... yea, if you can and find a good one go i guess depending on circumstance... but you better take everything they say with a grain of salt too, wtf
.... yes teenagers and in general young ppl self diagnoing themselves with 2000 things is harmful. they may be doing it either for attention, because its cool and trendy, bc theyve actually got histrionic or mauchausens, bc theyre pathologizing normal human reactions, or bc theyve not done enough actual research and went off of articles which explain things in such a way that frankly most humans would relate. or they may confuse disorders among each other, or they may not be pragmatic enough abt it. yes this is a huge issue. weve got 20000 teenagers and young adults and even some adults running around saying theyve got turrets or did or autism or bpd or ocd or whatever the hell is trendy. psych wards for symptoms and conditions (which are themselves often imperfect) have been watered down to an extreme and are thrown around. therapy talk is being used to make excuses for behavior which should not be excused
...... at the same time. yea self diagnosis isnt inherently harmful all the time. the ppl who say otherwise and are 2000% certain only docs can tell u shit arent skeptical enough of docs. with some things its obvious. i didnt need any doctor to tell me i had anorexia nervosa or bulimia lmaoooo that shit was obvious and clear as day. i didnt need to be told i had bpd, i caught on at a young age i had it, and bc i neither could go to therapy nor wanted to, i spend years understanding that disorder on every which side and way and recovering from it myself. it saved my life. i dont even wanna know how bad things would have been if i didnt accept i had that and understood it - and yea, i didnt need no doctor to tell me to know. and low and behold, docs agree i used to have bpd, still hsve some symptoms, but have mostly recovered from it. funnily enough i caught onto having some sort of osdd/did years ago, than denied it completely to myself for years, than i couldnt ignore it and deny it anymore. ended up getting a diagnosis for that too. :/ i figured i had adhd for years on end but docs either thought it was something else or i wouldn't bring it up much. low and behold i have a diagnosis and the high doses of adhd meds i can handle without feeling st all "drugged out" are proof that i do actually have adhd
if anything lmaoo i have personal experience with having a crazy psych. a woman who mistook cptsd&osdd/did for bipolar disorder, gave me drugs literally illegally which ate at my body and told me not to tell anyone, and also yelled at me that i was crazy. had a therapist who thinks being molested makes ppl homosexual and that step-parent sexual attraction is normal on some level.....;;;; like;;;;;;..... yea. the psychs and therapists arent some sort of final say people. they can be crazy and they can be wrong
and the idea that Inherently someone with bpd, or did/osdd or whatever else Cant Know of their disorder before being told (tho the latter was actually suggested to me many yrs ago by someone) is just. wrong and harmful frankly. yea in some cases pls dont know, or theyre in extreme denial (like with anorexia). but not with all. not with all. 👀 my psychs found it surprising how self aware i was, impressive, but they did not think this was some sort of disqualification
idk. yea. like. theres definetely issues around self-dex especially in the hell were living today but acting like its Always Inherently Bad and Will Never Help and docs are some sort of authority who are the only ones with some say... ,,,, yeaaaa. no. that's also dangerous
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hey friend, sorry if this is a little personal or you don’t want to answer, please feel free to ignore, but why did you decide to give up alcohol? i want to myself and i think i should, but i’m having trouble giving myself the push to get there. i’m worried about things seeming bleak, or boring, or that i’ll have to explain everywhere. any advice or inspiration is much obliged. congrats!!!!!
hey! no bestie it isnt too personal at all! im super open about stuff like this so please feel free to ask anytime you have questions! im happy to be a support for you because this has been hard but its also been so so so worth it and i will never look back!! <3 my response may be triggering for some due to the content so im gonna put it under a cut! so trigger warning: alcohol, blacking out.
for starters some people just cannot handle alcohol the same way - its literally a brain, chemical thing... some people just can't do it. for me it was endless nights of blacking out, having no idea what i said or did, sick of throwing up all the fucking time and ruining clothes and rugs. im one of the people that if i have one drink it will almost definitely turn into six which turns into ten which turns into black out. i was a nice drinker, i got real obsessed with how much i love everyone and was super friendly so that wasnt apart of my issue. i just felt like... i dont remember what i did or said. it triggered my ptsd and anxiety, every single day after i went hard drinking i would be an anxious mess and feeling suicidal because i was embarrassed or anxious that i had done or said something super humiliating even though that wasnt my track record. i just dont have a healthy ability to stop. i have no off button once the alcoho hits my system so i cannot control how much i drink. i tried that, may times and it never worked. its an all or nothing kind of thing for me.
i also chase the dopamine hit - every sip of alcohol once you start to feel drunk continues to feel like a dopamine hit! thats why you dont realize youre drinking way more than you want to sometimes, because once your kind of out of your normal mindset it takes over and tells you its a great idea..... at least for me it did!
my girlfriend and i went to a taylor swift themed night a bar just days after our decision to get sober and we thought it would be terrible and uncomfortable and i was like "i cant sing or dance without alcohol no way this is gonna be fun" and we did have a wonderful time! there are so many fun mocktails and almost every bartender ive ever come across will be more than happy to throw something fun together for you if youre worried about being able to go out out.
my father is an alcoholic and he and i are estranged because of it. he has been extremely, extremely sick lately with liver and kidney issues from his drinking. and for obvious reasons, i dont wish to repeat that cycle in my near future.
pro tip: if you're somewhere where you order your own drink privately if you get a soda water/sparkling water with lime and ask for it in a rocks glass no one will ever know you arent drinking! i do this a lot when at weddings or parties because i dont feel like talking to drunk assholes about how great they think being drunk is lmao
anon i am more than happy to clarify anything or answer any further questions you have!! its intense to go at this alone, so seriously i got you if you need anyone. <33
alcohol can absolutely be a fun tool if used responsibly and great for celebrations and all that fun stuff but like... you dnot need it to enjoy it. but its expensive, too - in so many ways! so you save money if you just get yourself a pretty lil soda with lime and prance around and just have fun being yourself without a substance taking control for you.
im actually learning a lot more about myself and what i really want and need out of social situations because im in control of myself and my autonomy instead of not remembering what even happened.
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I lived.
ive been through so much shit in this house and finally, i can trust and know, that theres an end. That in the very first week of November my new life can begin. the one i thought id always have from the time i was young. when i was a kid i thought id grow up to become educated, go to college, move out around 22-25 and have a Normal Life. i never did. instead i got to wonder why all the media i saw told me that fathers would do anything for their kids- especially "their little girls" which at the time, i was. i had to wonder why after any little convo with my father i wanted to cry in the shower- why so many times i DID cry in the shower afterwards. I didnt question all the times I cried myself to sleep. all the times i had to fight off thoughts of self hate and "i wish i was dead" "id be better off dead, no one would miss me," I was a child. I didnt think anything was wrong until i did question why id never heard anyone else talk about that, about wanting to cry after every conversation you had with your father. I knew i never felt like he loved me, like he wanted me. I knew he felt like an estranged neighbor that i lived with for some reason, instead of feeling like my father. I never trusted him. i never felt at home in this house. I never had friends in real life. the one kid my age i did meet, moved away a few months later. the other kids were not my age, and troubled, and connected to my abusive father's friends. so i was isolated and homeschooled.
my dad would take me to the park routinely incase i did ever get the chance to make friends there but it never happened.
homeschooling was also my dads idea and i do think it was the better choice for me personally because of where we live (i would've likely been bullied to no end and that plus the at home abuse wouldve broken me i think.) but it did enable my father to isolate me further. he isolated my dad too. the social anxiety just last year i felt about saying ANYTHING, the way i was trained to hyperanalyze EVERYTHING that i said, the FEAR and ANXIETY i felt whenever i thought of a way my words could be twisted into something malicious, the ways my words could be twisted into something i wasnt saying. my dad and i both felt like that for YEARS. we've always lived in the middle of fucking no where. i cant walk to a mall. i cant walk to the grocery store. we have no public transport. its so christian out here that early on my dad (who is perceived as a middle aged housewife here) wouldve been told to stay with my father or somewhat ostracized for divorcing him- even without being involved in any church congregation here. the social pressure, the physical isolation, the mental abuse that ruined our selfconfidence, the second guessing ourselves, all of it.
If I told you of one single incident you would think a single prick of a needle's point had driven me mad.
Because to describe the sheer amount of needle pinpricks before that is hard to describe, difficult to convey the gravity of every little pinprick over the two decades i had to live with my father and his abuse.
he got worse right before he left, in my dad's eyes, but- and this may be stupid of me, i didnt feel like that. he was always pathetic, to me. He was stupid and impulsive but he was dangerous and he is the only person that ever made me feel Bleak. Truly, genuinely, sincerely bleak. for the first few months of 2019, i felt nothing. i was numb. resigned. i believed there was no good ending, that this house and that abuse was all i would ever know. there was no use fighting or feeling. it would change nothing.
to some extent i still havent truly realized deep down that im, free. im free now. im an adult now. no one will ever make me powerless again. i wont fall for any of this abuse in the future. i have friends now. i once believed i was truly unlovable and that no one would bat an eye if i disappeared. that i was not worth noting. i still struggle with thoughts of being "replaceable." but now, i know people who care. i have independence now. once im out of this shithole state my dad and i can seek trans health care- fuck, we can HAVE HEALTHCARE at all.
I don't miss my father. I hate that i still love him, somehow. he was the only one who ever made me want to kill myself. he was always the sole reason for the mountains of distress i felt. Im glad he never got to know I was queer.
what kept me going for so long was my childhood cat and music, and my dad. I lost my childhood cat BK this year, and it still hurts. But in my heart shes still here, somehow. I want to find a kitten with her sweet little eyes, when we're settled into the new living situation. BTS's music in particular always made me feel better, I still listen to them.
this house was a fixer-upper in the first place. it became a money sink over the years of neglect. my father promised to fix so many things but instead he trashed the place. i have never slept in a bedroom I loved. i have never had a real dresser. i havent had a furnished dining room since i was 7 or so. i havent been able to stay lucid in this house because its just so trashed already that apathy is a must or else i get more depressed. i try, i really do try to clean when i can. but this house is beyond repair for myself and my dad at this point. even if we wanted to fix it we cant. we have no money for all the tlc it needs at this point. moving is the only option.
I miss caring. I miss caring about my surroundings. Caring about myself. Caring about my dad. I miss feeling each day. We were doing so well before the car broke down.
deep in my heart I wish i could ask my father "why" but I know that no answer would satisfy me. Nothing can explain "why," that I haven't already known by now, yet my heart yearns with that question anyway. "Why?"
and now we're only a week away from knowing the life we had always wanted and dreamed of. we tasted that life just a few months ago, for a year or two and it was lovely. It can only get better from here. I spent ages hanging on to a THREAD of hope. for my dad. I never wanted him to be the one to find the aftermath, i couldnt do that to him. and deep down i wanted, so desperately, for it to get better. Im so glad I hung on long enough to be rewarded. it was hard. I had to fight to see tomorrow, to not give up, to not abandon hope. It was so fucking hard, and I dont regret a second of it.
The list of my and my dad's abuse at the hands of my father when he was living with us, and still alive, is long. But the list of our progress, our hopes and our plans, our dreams, our triumphs, is so much longer.
I lived. I lived to see a new dawn and finally know the life child me always thought we would end up having. We're free, and im so happy, finally.
#open journal#open journalling#rotthoughts#creativelyrottedmind#personal#parental abuse#abuse#suicide mention#tw suicide
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i can't stop thinking about how bad that appointment went. i wish i had never gone in the first place. all it did was confirm some parts of my body really are degenerating and yet STILL no one cares, no one wants to figure out why, no one is taking me seriously. it hurts so fucking much. I advocated so FUCKING hard for myself and it didn't do anything but make a doctor super snippy with me because i dared to ask questions. It is scary being alone in a room with an older bigger man with a large power imbalance who is visibly annoyed with you for not immediately accepting his word without any further questions or concerns. So I had to back off before he got Really mad. this sucks so much. absolutely no answers and no real treatment besides do some stretches, every day for the rear of my life I guess. As if that's feasible during a flare up when I can barely move without pain? As if it's NORMAL to have flare ups of terrible pain and inflammation for no reason?
I'm tired. I'm so tired. I don't want to care anymore but I already opened the door and I don't know how to close it, even though the doctors keep trying to slam it in my face. How am I supposed to just ignore it like they want me to when there's so so so obviously something wrong but no one will listen
I can't deal with it anymore. It feels like I'm betraying my future self by giving up because I'm sure it's just going to get worse but I cant keep going to doctors and getting treated like this again and again I can't do it, even if I found a new rheumatologist who'd see me. Mercury already wants to attack people so bad about it and everyone else mostly just wants to cry all the time and it's fucking wrecking our mental health. We can't do it anymore
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it’s the twenty sixth of february, 1;48 pm, and i am going to be twenty six in two days. and my depression has reached such a level today that it is telling me to kill myself.
and i don’t know what to do. (apart from not killing myself, obviously.)
at the moment i hate myself. well, i hate myself more than usual, which is a lot. i hate my depression i hate that i hate myself. i hate the way that no matter how hard i try i can never be normal. i hate the fact that
i just. i want to do something with my life. and i know that i'm not gonna. i hate that i am a discount version of holly, unable to do anything without having someone to hold my hand. i hate that i cant make or answer phonecalls without fucking moral support.
i fucking hate how like holly i'm always going to be stuck mentally at the age of what-ever-the-fuck-teen, being unable to be a functioning member of society.
i wish that depression and anxiety didn’t fucking haunt every decision that i make. i wish I didn’t have to win a battle with myself every time i even thought about leaving the house. i wish that i didn’t feel so guilty every time i looked at the dog because i suck so much, that i can’t even take him for a walk.
i hate the fact that i almost wish that i had killed myself when i was a teenager to stop the adult me, current me from feeling this way.
i wish I could fucking clean by myself, without forcing my mum or holly to hurt themselves to get me off my backside. i wish i could force myself to do the dishes, or fucking force myself to remember two buttons on the washing machine. but i can’t, and mum with her shitty legs has to do it for me.
i see mum struggling to pay for things this month, and i know i should be helping. i know i could be helping, but i just cant. i cant articulate why but living here, rent free makes me feel so selfish and so shitty
i want to be an adult, with a job that i can do that i don’t hate, that pays the bills and lets me live comfortably. i want to be able to be spontaneous and do random things. i'm thinking about joining the army (which i wont because i suck so much that no matter what i do i know that i'll never be fit/thin enough.)
i want to be a streamer (but i wont because i suck, my voice sucks, my teeth suck, and i can’t get a fucking microphone to work.)
i want to act (but I cant for all the reasons i just mentioned. i want to get a history degree and do something with it. (but i cant because i don’t know how. i don’t know how to start where to start when to start, and i refuse to burden my mum further.)
i know tomorrow will be another day. i probably won’t feel this way for a week, a month, a year. but i know that i will. like a bad stomach after an awful curry, this feeling will again overwhelm me. i want to stop feeling this way i just want my brain my body myself to metamorph into a functioning human being. i want my brain to stop.
i want i want i want i want
my mental health is like an unexploded bombshell, and the rest of me is the unwilling city waiting for it to go off.
… i actually sobbed while writing this. fuck
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(babe, i dont know whats wrong with me, but i feel like youd like this bit, tbf i thin youd liek the whole thing when its done but im writing it rn so have snippets, oove you <3, sorry about this )
"Hmm you like that, don't you? Like it when i tease you, dont let you finish"
A soft mewl, looking away, desoerate to hide
“Do you like it when i keep you on the edge, edging you?”
No answer, im too prideful, i am not willing to give in so easily, wheres the fun in that? His hands grip my chin, forcing me to face him, squeezing my cheeks,
“Answer me” he growls it, a command i cant deny,
"Yes" I was breathless and lightheaded, I felt like I would have floated away if it wasn't for the meticulous knots holding the ropes together, intended for my safety, turning me on all the more.
Matty picked up the knife again trailing it up the my chest, swirling the point around a nipple, licking his lips as he saw the nub harden further, he looked like he wanted to devour me, no doubt he would, even if he did let me finish, that wouldnt be the end, we were home alone all night, and im sure he was planning to use the time best he could, afterall, he said he was going to ruin me.
"Please"
"Please, what?"
Begging was hard: it require letting go of my power, my control, something i never really liked to do, but for matty, i'd do just about anything, with him looking like that above me.
"Please"
Matty bent down, his thighs tightening on my sides, knees digging into my ribs,
"Please, what?"
His lips caressed my ear with each word
"Please, stop teasing me? Please, fuck me?"
At every question, my panting got faster, more frequently interspersed with moans and little whines, the mere idea of him doing anything more to me enough to get me going, i couldnt answer him, i didnt know what i wa sbegging for anymore, all i could think about was him, hair falling in front of his face, lips parted, chest rising and falling quickly as he looked at his handiwork,
“Your fucking perfect”, trailing the fingers of his free hand up the valley between my breasts “you sound so pretty, you’re like art incarnate”
Fuck, i- uh, shit, get your thoughts together. I buckled, a tortured noise leaving my throat as I used my leg for leverage to rub myself up against the man above me.
I knew that if Matty hadn't been as careful as he was, the sudden movement could have meant finding the knife causing some actual harm.
The flash of realization of just how safe I was with the him only made me more desperately aroused "Fuck me. Please" it would mean losing the touch of the knife but it was a good compromise: it meant getting Matty that much closer, feeling our skin stick together with sweat and cum and saliva, a level of intimacy I craved with him.
"Hmm, do you think you asked nicely enough?"
"matty–"
"Only because you look too pretty for me to keep from fucking you dumb"
If I hadn't been bound, I would have taken those words as permission to finally touch the him, surge up and kiss him breathless until all Matty could think of was the way our bodies were made to crash together, make him feel the way he had me, to have him begging like earlier - but I was bound, so I stared up at my temporary lover, pupils blown wide with desire.
Waiting. I'd never been good at that.
Matty let a smirk play on his lips
"If only you could see yourself right now…"
"Take a picture" I snapped "Didn't you just say you were going to fuck me dumb? Or was that an empty threat"
Matty laughed; in the end, not even being naked and tied up could break my spirit - and Matty didn't even want to i knew that much, i knew he liked being resisted just a little, hating when he got what he wanted so easily, he liked to feel like he earned it, like he accomplished it, maybe that's why we had always gotten on so well, we complement each other well, neither yielding without a fight. He bent down, no hesitation as he kissed the brattiness off of his lips, smiling as I kissed him back just as passionately, biting his lower lip and leaning up into it, pulling lightly and he removed his lips from mine once again.
He plucked at the ropes, shivering at how rough it felt against his fingertips - shivering more at the thought of the marks they were surely leaving behind on my skin, i knew how much he loved the idea, of leaving marks on someone, claiming them, and honestly, who wouldnt love to do that? : I would remember this evening with every brush of my clothes against my body, bruises where his hands had gripped me, blossoming onto my skin, blooms of lavender and periwinkle that would slowly fade into sage green and saffron yellow, marking me, reminding me of the man hovering above me. Everytime i look in a mirror ill be reminded of his hands on me, teasing me, using me.
“Lets see how much prettier you are crying”
well jesus christ oh my god
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I'm so attached to femininity and I always have been. but my concept of femininity is so warped its just a cloud. and my concept of gender is even worse. I thought I knew. I thought I understood it. but I dont. I thought being attached to gender, or even a lack of gender would help establish the concept. but I just dont get it in a way i can understand and relate to. i cant even relate to lacking gender. i worked on breaking down my laws of gender so that the rules i put around gender (none) were the same as the ones i applied to myself. i worked so hard so that i could feel okay with my body but now im not connected to any gender at all. and i hate it. i hate how im not attached to something that is so meaningful in our society. i hate how im not attached to something i hear about so often any further than experimentation in my former years and the fact i lack connection. people always ask me what my gender actually is. and i never give them any answers further than "your mum". And yeah, on one hand i dont really care about gender, and i think its funny to confuse people and leave them guessing. but i also really want to be able to answer that question without something nagging a me that its wrong. i dont identify with feminine type genders cause there's always something telling me its every so slightly wrong, i dont identify with being agender because it just feels like the wrong label and i feel like id need to have some level of a concept of gender to say i lack it and it just really doesn't feel right, i also dont identify with masculine type genders cause i just dont feel anything about being the idea of being a guy other than it just doesn't feel right. ive considered stuff like genderfluidity and demi genders and fluxgenders but it just doesn't feel right. every gender and label just feels wrong. having a label even feels wrong at times. I just tell people my pronouns and hope they're happy enough with that. I just hope they're happy not to know my gender or sexuality any further than aroace spec and the fact im autistic. Because I am. I'm happy to not have to know or label any further than that. Yeh im not happy with the fact i dont have a proper connection and understanding of gender and cant attach to anything, even lacking gender, but i'm ok just to be unlabelled and not know much.
#gender stuff#gender is killing me#i hate gender#but cause i dont fit it at all#oh#ok#i just dont fit gender#im just excluded from gender#even from lacking gender
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You've already written a book? Wow, that's impressive! I've always been writing but never quite finished anything. I have a lot of short stories stored in my computer and poetry in my various journals, but actually sitting down and committing to writing something for an extended period of time has always been difficult for me. I lose interest after a while, or get stuck on a scene and just give up on it. I have about three rough drafts of at least one hundred pages worth of material, but that's it. They stop there. How were you able to write your book? What is the story behind it? I know we writers hate when someone asks what our books are about, because it's not always about the plot, I would say, but more about the characters and the overarching themes present throughout the story, but I'm curious. I hope you don't mind me intruding in your ask box like this.
yoooo you're back!!! im so glad
yessss well i feel you really hard on the never finishing anything. I've always always been writing too, ever since i could but i never thought i'd get to write a book, quite honestly. i mean, i didnt even consider myself a writer until like last year and im fucking 25. i just kind of. wrote. didnt claim the "writer" title until one of my friends pointed it out like "hey, youre a writer" and i was like HUH?? so ya.
the way i wrote it was very circumstantial, honestly. i think in a way, thats what usually happens. a bit of circumstance, time, discipline, and most importantly PASSION is the perfect equation, at least for me. it was in a time when covid was coming to an end, i had a job but was out of work because i had broken my foot, and i had a whole room to myself cause i was living with my sister. i was also going through a david bowie obsession and listened to literally JUST THAT for three whole months. i wrote every day, all day. sometimes for 10 hours without really eating or drinking. i was OBSESSED. with this story, and these characters, and so im not really the person to ask how exactly you finish a book, because for me it was truly a near religious experience, like divine intervention type thing. it was like i was possessed. i couldnt stop. i loved it so much that it took over my whole life.
as for the stuck on a scene thing. honestly? like forreal forreal? you just have to change the scene that you thought you were gonna write. that's it. that's the answer. you just don't write that scene. you find something else. if its not coming to you like butter on a hot pan, sliding into your brain effortlessly and through your fingers, change it. or just don't write it. skip it. skip to another part of the story, or just straight up skip that scene and continue the story. im telling you, there aint not other way. you'll just stray further and further from that momentum you had, and get frustrated with yourself, and start overthinking your story, and all that, all for one scene that isn't even there.
and the dreaded discipline. look, we all hate it. the only thing you can do to combat the writers block is, and i cant emphasize this enough, write something else for a bit. put your story on pause, its okay, its always gonna be there, and write something with those same characters, but maybe theyre in an au, or another scene, or its just some little drabble of their lives. it helps immensely, even for your book. you get to develop their characterization, get to know them, their motivations, their speech patterns, and you get to have fun. it'll give you ideas, and once you're ready to kick yourself in the ass, go back to the book, and write one. fucking. sentence. just one. a shitty one. write a whole page without editing it as you go along. write simply and like youve never known what a sentence structure looks like, then when you're done, you can go back and edit. but its better to just write and have it be shitty but cohesive enough that its going somewhere, than to not write at all, right? thats my advice.
ok this shit is getting long as fuck and i didnt even answer your question as to what my book is about. i'll try to blurb it, for practice.
Set in 1973, it's about Percy, an astronomy loving eighteen year old Welsh guy with sleep apnea who moves to the city with his extremely religious parents. He finds a room through a new friend he meets at a bar, Gretchen, and moves in with Ren, a wearing-sunglasses-at-night sanguine type who's a storm about to ravage Percy's little village.
Ren has a secret room, secret hobbies, secret everything, and it drives Percy insane with prophetic dreams through his apneic episodes. With time, patience and a shared love of music, Ren begins to let Percy in on his tragic life, the person he lost and the reasons why he is the way he is, chaos personified. Percy begins to understand that he is a part of some equation, some mission Ren has been set on by the strange presence in their apartment.
The secret little room is the key to it all, and through the whispers in the trees and the voice in the walls, Percy will soon discover that Ren is not only someone who's happened to cross his path, but someone who he is falling in love with, someone fated for him. It's a story of self-discovery, mysticism, death, rebirth, redemption, friendship, and it's very gay. Very, very gay. Also set in the early 70s so there's the trials and tribulations of marginalized identities, good ass music, and a lack of electronic communication.
there are a lot of different elements to this story, like.... a lot of references to greek mythology, astronomy facts, sleep disorders, nightmare imagery, motifs, everything is all connected. Each character's name has a meaning to the story, and they all play a very important role. There's also like two plot twists and a secret character that i cant talk about heehee.
anyways FUCK this was crazy. i know you only asked like a couple of questions but im like sooooo into answering thoroughly. its honestly helping me understand some stuff, so thank you veryyyyy much for being curious, i really really appreciated. dont be shy if you ever want to come off anon and send me a message, im not gonna think anything weird of you lol. i know anon is like a safe way of lurking sometimes but id like to talk to you more if youre down.
#i love this#cause like.....i wanna go on and on about my shit in person to people but i always feel embarrassed or weird talking extensively about me#yknow#im not good at that#i feel like its annoying to ppl#i know thats me projecting but whatever#i wanna be able to talk about this for like two hours on end without anyone interrupting me#lol#grims echo
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a letter i will never send (P ver.)
P, i just wish i could express how much i love you. i miss you so much and my heart hurts every time i remember how we cant be together. you were the first person who made me feel wanted and accepted. you were my first love. a day doesnt go by when i dont remember the beautiful memories we made. i cherish them in my heart forever. i hate that something like this had to come between us. but its just something we cant change even if we wanted to. and thats what i hate about fate. i promise that when you come back, i will make sure to make it all worth it. right now you are on a flight to seoul, and i know youre tired, its a 15 hour flight and im probably the last thing on your mind. but its the opposite for me. for the past two weeks, ive been thinking about you non stop. the no contact wasnt terrible, it was something i was able to manage, but the fact that you didnt reach out to me was killing me. becasue i would do anything to just feel your embrace. your kiss and your touch. i just miss you so so much. and i wish i could tell you every day without feeling guilty about it. because i know you want me to move on, i know you want me to find someone else. but how can i? when youre all ive ever wanted in a person. everything i needed and didnt know i was missing in my life.
i never cry easily. but i remembered the first time i cried in front of you. it was april 22nd and we had just gotten back from western playland. i was laying down with my head on your lap and music was playing in the background. you were playing with my hair and caressing my face. i kept staring at you because you were looking so handsome. and then i realized “a few weeks from now, i’ll never have him like this ever again, it’ll all be over” and i started to cry. from then on, i cried almost every time i saw you, because i knew it was inevitable. i dont know how you didnt get tired of me crying.
i realized that i cried of sadness, because this, whatever i had with you, was all i ever wanted. it felt free and like we were in control of our own lives. and i only had this feeling for 43 days. not even two full months. how can a feeling so happy not last forever ?
in a way, i wanted to tell myself that this was another lesson sent from the universe. a lesson telling how real love feels like. but how can this be a lesson? if it was all destined to happen in just that month, how will it be in september when you come back? will things change? will we become closer? further apart? if im being honest, im all for whatever happens. i just want to see you again. one more time so that i could get that closure. seeing you is all i want this very moment. and i hope you feel the same. these next few months will be very hard for us to communicate, but i promise that i will continue to miss you and think about you everyday.
until then, p. i love you.
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1.18.23
7.37pm
the word “villian” has been dancing around my thoughts for weeks now. ive watched so many people in my life become the villain yet ive always tried to stay “good”. i have this urge to let myself go, not be self-destructive, the exact opposite of that. i want to be able to feel myself as my own person and not the dumbed down idea of somebody everybody sees as a kid because i deserve that. it feels like im the villain for that when in reality im standing up for myself.
i joke about a “villain arc” as if i havent watched others crumble around me and become the real villain. even if it wasnt technically real, i still remember their actions piece by piece. i remember being called the bad guy for being childish and destructive because i had nothing else. not that it was necessarily right, but of all people, me? i watched communitites, nations, rise and fall by a handful of people, i realized that the people i trusted werent moral, i had my world shattered in front of me so many times over. im not asking to be coddled for that, but it makes me wonder why i stuck out as a villain to some
its so freeing to let myself exist without feeling like i have to water myself down but its scary sometimes. for my entire life, ive been known as the dumb kid who feels things too much and too hard. for my entire life ive been treated as a child when i was cheated out of the chance to actually be one. i convinced myself it was “healing” but i was being pushed back further. in all honesty, i feel emotionally stunted in a way. all those years of being treated and seen as a child make me feel as though i need to behave like one, like i dont understand anything and need somebody to cling onto. ive spent years clinging onto others and i have lost them every single time.
im allowed to be my own person and i do not need somebody to define that for me
thats the single biggest thing ive had to face with.. all of this. lose everybody, gain myself. i cant live in the shadows of everybody else forever and i needed to realize that. i allowed myself to be pushed into boxes and constrained because god forbid im anybody but who others want me to be. i dont think its much of a coincidence that i only started seriously considering my gender once i wasnt under the influence of other people in my life and appeasing them. my gender is just a small portion of my identity that id repressed; there are still parts of the stupid kid that remain inside me, but im trying to take charge and allow myself to be better than that and really grow
i still think a lot about the times id broken down in front of people. i dont know if “regret” is the right word, but it terrifies me. id spent how long having my emotions used against me, and the moment i get comfortable expressing them more freely, im back at square one. a part of me would like to believe that they wont do that; itd be awful to use somebodys trauma and breakdowns against them, right? im forced to look back at my brother and remember the person he is. im forced to realize that maybe he wont always have a soft spot for me, that maybe me speaking out made him turn on me. it shatters my heart to consider but its unfortunately something i need to be aware of
i can tell myself time and time again “he had some sort of reasoning to prod at people the way he did”, but did he? all because he percieved these people as “bad” and considered himself any better. time and time again, i have to realize that im not a stranger to familial wrath. i would believe he could justify anything he does, and thats horrifying in a sense. does it give you a sense of gratification to jab your finger into peoples trauma, or do you only care when it becomes a threat to those you supposedly care about?
when i think about people, my mind is cluttered with questions to them. im perpetually curious and its never quite quenched. i could fill a notebook of questions that i will never ask and i know i will never receive that closure. i could know every single thing about their thought processes but it wouldnt heal
8.20pm
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Back to basis
After today’s recording where joe explains his moment of change and i reflected on my moments of change how subtle but life changing they are how you just cant go back to them, like the point i walked with my other half, i had blame and lots of it, when i walked it and moved on, i just cant go back to the way i was, it would take so much energy to be like that to live that way now, and its hard to believe i was even like that now, and yes blame has gone its lifted, it was real time change many years ago now that turned my head round 180 as it were. All that energy it took to be like that was so much when i see my self then, to be bothered with being frustrated with my bundle of blame, and how i look at the points Im living right now and why am i not just dropping them why is it hard ti just saw ok I’m I’ve that now I’m living this now lol
So what i see today is that how import i have to be here in every moment for these changes to happen i have to be with myself full on standing, when i feel energy stop look at it. But what I’m dealing with right now is comparison I’m so over having to be like this I’ve got to the point that this point has been lingering for decades and I’ve been walking it for at least 3 years id say !!!! Holy crap 3 years how can i do that to myself for all those years ?? Lol Ive now come to the point of stand stand stand self love the chosen word for myself to deal with this.
Im thinking my thyroid problem has to do with my comparison keeping me from functioning properly because my desire to be better than all others runs so deep I’m dysfunctional so my like my thyroid not working properly doing the best i can do. All because just cant see the best in myself without comparing it to another, no seeing me as whole as one. So how can i further help myself with this insane desire to be better than other by going into self doubt to self ego in the matter of a split second how can i turn these thoughts into functions that will support me to live myself without this want need and desire?
Step off the merry go round step off this so called wheel of life clean up with scrappy bits left over that I’ve decided to keep around just in case i need them, yes that what Ive been doing, so i can look at something different to overcome a change of scenery lol as it were I’ve out lived this one its fucking annoying lol i saw a post of a school friend today and i was jealous that she might be happier than myself with her life and all her photos this thing is so wide spread I’m going to have to be very vigilant and question a good proportion of my daily thoughts i see to really get on tops of this but at the end of the day thats all they are just thoughts they are not really me no i just created them made them real and so believe them to be me. Such a shame i took it so far and ingrained it within myself.
Plan to see realize and un stand to move this point i have to be persistent i have to be stable calm and stop in every moment for real time change, i have to see what they are really showing me about myself i have to live my self love embrace them about me. I have to be real because my dislike for all when it comes to my comparison for me to see myself as better has to end i have to move on let go embrace this about me and see realize and understand that I’m changing and this is an important part of the whole of my change. It has many angles and comes in many angles as thoughts i see it not just one thing compare theres a story of wanting people to see me as amazing so i can to believe that I’m am so i can bring the thoughts of this why i can think the way i do because i am, i also need to live the words humble i see so this is my word for today humble.
Humble hum able bumblebee to be humble
To love myself
To stand as self with pride and stability
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HELP!!! virgin aone being so scared to touch you because he's been told he's so big, rough and tough his whole life 🥺🥺
-.._.-''-.εїз cute shy baby virgin!aone, titty grabbing, fingering
shy virgin! aone who turns red at anything more than a peck on the cheek. Taking it slow with him, insisting that he takes care of you first after you asked to give him a handy, almost saying yes to your pleading puppy dogs eyes. But with his little sheer remaining will power he said no, instilled in him since day one, ladies first.
Having to guide his hands all around your body, starting with your sides. Trailing up the sweater you had on as your hands rested on top of his, completely drawfing them. Using all your mental strength to control yourself from the feeling of his rough calloused fingertips inching further and further up your waist, remembering that you were the one taking the lead and instructing him on what to do.
His body freezing when his fingertips hit your bra, nervously turning his gaze to the floor as your body grew hotter as his adorable reaction. Hesitating for a second to let him catch his breath before grabbing the base of his palm as you lead it up to your chest, squeezing your hand around his, fully encompassing you tit.
Hearing his voice crack as he let in a breath, seeing his gaze was still beneath him, as you took it into your own hands to relax him. Your free hand coming up to his jaw, turning it easily upward as he didnt resist and stroking it lightly, knowing that, that was the way you would always put him to sleep.
A silent gaze as your eyes meet his, his intense stare was nothing as you had him completely lost in your own little world. Neither of you breaking eye contact as your thumb traced his bottom lip. His eyes fluttering, doing there best to stay open as his blush grew to his ears. Pride growing deep in your chest that you were the only one to see him this vulnerable, to see him looking like a lost puppy waiting for a treat, to have him at your complete will.
His pupils wide with unsure lust as your hand started closing around his, seeing every movement asn his face ever so slightly contort as you made him grope your tit again. His warm hand was getting hotter and hotter as he grew more confident, staying put even when you let your hand drop. Repeatedly peering down to your breasts before quickly going back up to you again.
“You can take it off.” Your voice soothed out, a hint of mischief lingering in your tone. Eyes batting up at his as you could see the gears turning in his head.
“I- , uh.”
Letting out a little laugh that you couldn't constrain while he couldn't form a sentence, seeing that he never would if you didn't help your poor baby boy out.
“...s’fine. I can do it this time, and you can next time.”
Chuckling as you let out a wink, seeing his eyes widening and quickly scrunching up. His cheeks turning redder, almost cooing at how cute he was, always making your heartbeat a little too fast.
“You gotta take your hand off sweetheart.” Your sheepish, sly grin breaking free as he almost instantly removed his hand, placing them both in his lap looking like a child getting scolded. Your fingers working their way behind your back as you leaned into his shoulder, lips touching his neck while his arms instinctively supported you, letting out a giggle into his ear.
Remembering what you said last time he got this far,“...Or I can't take it off.”
the words playing in his head ever since that day.
Letting your bra drop to the floor as seductively as you could. Seeing his eyes ogle you, you suddenly feeling shy too.
“T-, they're pretty.”
“Pretty?”
His head quickly nodded as he never wanted you to think he was joking about how much you loved you and your body.
Taking your chance to sit down on his big thighs, straddling his lap as you still gave him a full view, lips meeting his ears once again. “You know what else is pretty.”
Not even getting the chance to respond before your legs spread, shirt hiked up enough, middle and ring finger covering your clothed cunt. Turning his vision slowly down, not wanting to have a heart attack as he knew what laid before him.
But that still wasn't enough, mouth hanging slack as he saw how wet you were. White panties blending in with your skin as he could see the slick leaking through them. Did he get you like this? Fuck, he knew you could tell how hard he was, knowing you were playing dumb trying to be a good girl a listen to him.
But he couldn't even fist his cock without the thought of you running though his mind, you really had him daydreaming about you like you were the only thing to ever exist. Just wanting a taste of you but he knew he couldn't control himself just yet, scared that he'd break your body if you let him.
“Wanna touch there too?” Your voice breaking him out of his trance. A hint of anticipation echoing through your voice.
“I-, if you'd let me.”
“Of course.” Locking eyes with him as your lips pouted out, squishing your tits against his while you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You know I'd let you do whatever with me.”
Him almost knocking off his lap as he hastily adjusted himself, his arm catching you before you could even stumble. Reminding you of when you two first met, walking down the sidewalk looking down at your phone while he was walking home, sleepy eyes barely open as he ran into you. Quickly apologizing as you just stared at him, instantly falling for him, saying he could make it up by buying you some tea.
Knocking you off your feet just to save you, what a man.
“How about this is the ‘next time’, you gotta take them off now.”
Looking head first into your cunt as you stood before him. Accepting his fate as he marveled at it a few moments before deciding on how to drag your paintes down. His rough fingers playing with the hem of your waistband as he hesitated.
“Baby, I-. Fuck…. Love, I don't think I can't control myself if I even catch a glimpse of it.”
Trying your best not to laugh as his hands rested on your thighs for now, “Well, you don't gotta take them off, do you?”
“Yeah, fuck. I can do that.”
His hand moving back up to your disgustingly soaked panties, inching there was up your thigh until he felt your slick running down them. Hearing a soft little whimper escape your soft lips, that giving him enough courage to actually, finally take care of you.
Sliding his hand down your painties, feeling your body shake the moment his middle finger hit your clit, the movement coming innate to him as he circled you nub as gently as he could. Vision locked on you, wanting to ingrain the most pretty sight he's ever seen in his mind.
Your wetness almost oozing out of you at this and you knew he could tell, his finger catching it each time. Hearing your pretty little moans and whines for him to keep going made the pain in his wrist disappear, feeling gutsy enough to take it further.
Sliding his middle finger down enough until it reached your hole, curling the tip in. Your hips rocking into it as he took the hint, sliding it in slowly enough, feeling your tight walls contract around him. Barely even fitting his finger in there, deep down wondering how you were gonna even take him.
Starting a pace as you looked blissfully fuckd out, proud that he got you like this. Feeling so overwhelmed as your body collapsed onto his, laying limp in his hold as he paused for a second, worried that he took it too far.
“You alright?”
It was your turn to be the mess, nodding quickly, embarrassed that if you even tried to talk it would come out in a pathetic moan. Wondering how you got a man like him, so perfect, always doting on you like you were a piece of glass, like you were a ‘princess’ in his words.
“M-, ah!, m’gonna cum, don't stop.”
Feeling his cock grow harder at your pleas, thankful he wasn't inside you right now or he would've cum embarrassingly fast. “Shh, s’okay. Got it, i got it.” Trying to calm himself down also.
“Nobu!, cant, i-, ngh. Please.”
Fate had it that all you had to do was ask like a good girl and he'd give you wanted, immediately cumming, making a mess all over the place as you egged you on cooing in your ear, getting your wetness all over his thighs as your thighs were shaking, thankful for his grip on you.
“That feel good? He asked, staching the back of his neck, his awkwardness shining though once again.
“Yes it felt good!” Almost in awe that he would question himself after getting you so worked up. But before you rested you could tell that he was in need of some help too, hand tracing up his thigh while his head snapped up at your touch.
“So… When are you gonna let me take care of you?”
#well good thing i like my men big rough and tough#FUDBGKJS I LVOE HTIS#👹;ᴀᴏɴᴇ#👹;ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ#aone smut#haikyuu smut#virginity tw#aone x reader
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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.
#fic: homebound#reiner braun#reiner braun x reader#reiner braun x you#reiner braun imagine#reiner braun fic#reiner x reader#reiner x you#aot#aot x reader#aot x you#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan x you#attack on titan fanfiction#snk#snk x reader#snk x you#shingeki no kyojin x reader#my writing
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Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^
I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.
.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance
Anyway! onto the actual content!
- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.
- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.
- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.
- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.
- Lets talk about killing.
- During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master
..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first...
do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"
-
Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it.
- the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen.
- it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."
- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.
a couple character story quotes:
-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins.
The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat."
-"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory.
No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time.
Xiao has spent many long years alone.
But his battles have never been in vain."
-"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield."
-"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage."
-"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end."
-"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."
i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him.
- until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute.
- and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.
and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"
...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should.
to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.
^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.
idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go-
Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.
anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.
but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...
He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.
- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts
One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:
A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.
Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it.
both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory:
Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did
And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t
Xiao’s power coming from himself
and Venti’s from others
And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes
both have killed a lot of people during the archon war
Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control
and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself
and this is where we meet out balance
Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty
Venti on the other hand-
See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game
Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-
whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows.
however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-
Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over-
they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.
GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING
I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.
anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason
Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much
Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously
Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of-
Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included
Xiao: Then why me above others?
Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right]
Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]
it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.
I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is.
I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-
Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it
within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely
so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action.
and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways.
-Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay
-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though.
-Messages whispered on the wind
-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips.
- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.
- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them.
- And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself.
- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change
- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those
- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you:
- Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.
- turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing.
- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”
- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)
- “How long have you been together?”
“Adepti have no need for-”
“1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love”
“O///O our...? ...useless”
- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics-
- so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard-
- uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-
- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.
- Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced.
- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute
- just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh
- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports
- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.
- and because i just had to.... love languages
- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so-
- Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”
- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service
- its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that.
-
- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead.
#genshin impact#genshin xiao#genshin venti#xiao#venti#xiaoven#genshin analysis#genshin headcanons#xiaoven headcanons#xiaoven analysis#this is a mess i really shouldnt be putting all these tags but oh well#oh wow the grammar and spelling here is truly repulsive#sorry to all my english teachers i have failed you all
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