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kashimos-hajime · 3 years

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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.

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

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UR OFFICIALLY MY FAVORITE BLOG FOR SUB SHIGARAKI AND I TOTALLY AGREE THAT SHIGARAKI DOES HAVE A MOMMY KINK✋😔 ANYWAYS CAN I PLEASE REQUEST SUB SHIGARAKI WITH A MOMMY KINK AND PEGGING PLEASE

🌸 Mommy fic for mothers’s day 😌 🌸

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

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🌸 BESTIE I JUST POSTED ONE here she is BUT HERES ANOTHER AND SINCE IM BOLD AF AND REALLY FEELING THE MOMMY KINK LET ME HIT YOU WITH...

His lactation kink

Sometimes he's so far gone when he's sucking on your boobs that he gets worried/surprised/mad that there's no milk.

Like you're mommy....why no milk for Shiggy?

Let's be real as much as he may want kids in the future. He's not willing to get you prego in the middle of a war. But he will find the money to get those pills adoptive mothers use when they want to breastfeed their adopted baby. And you'd better take them. If you're not immune to his quirk...avoid him for a few days weeks. He will NOT be happy. I know that sounds mean, but he will dust you because you refused. Sorry, I'm right. He's a total brat.

And I mean, c’mon, if you've seen that manga panel, you know the man loves tits. Despite popular belief, he probably has a thing for tiny boobs so he can watch them get bigger once they fill up with milk because of the pills you will be taking. Like if you refuse, tell Dabi what color flowers you want at your funeral.

But this will be saved for another fic that's already cooking in my brain.

I'm gonna be honest, I was a little skimpy with the whole mommy thing last time, y’know, just testing the waters, but oh lord, get ready.

“Mommy, ” he whined, “Mommy, please. I need it so bad, ”

He was straddling your thigh, grinding and humping it desperately. He looked so sweet and pathetic, whining for mommy while desperately trying to get himself off. He was on the verge of tears now. He didn't want to cum in his pants. It's so embarrassing. Little did he know that's exactly what you wanted. Something about seeing him cry out and hide his face in your neck as he was unable to stop the cum spurting out of his dick and into his pants was so hot. He was so embarrassed. One time Shigaraki even cried.

The sadistic side of you wanted him in tears: red eyes and a runny nose. But you loved it when he crawled into your arms, still sniffling as you rubbed his back. You wanted to humiliate, break him down just to build him back up again. Worship his body and tell him how good he was. Whisper how loved and appreciated he was. He started to tug at your shirt, looking up with those puppy dog eyes you loved so, so much.

“Tell me what you want, honey, ” you said.

“I wanna see your boobs, mommy, ” he cried shamelessly.

You nearly laughed at how juvenile it sounded.

“Alright, honey, go ahead, ” you said.

He nearly ripped your shirt in half but restrained himself. He did, however, accidentally bend one of the hooks on your bra. When you were finally bare-chested, he whined desperately, looking up at you.

“Go ahead, ” you urged.

He dove right in, sucking and groping your tits. You moaned softly as he twisted your nipple. His hips were moving even faster, the spot of precum becoming more noticeable. He froze. You heard a strangled cry muffled by your tits as he came. And he did it. He started crying. Hiccuping and sniffling as he buried his face in shame. You stroked his hair.

“Dont cry, sweetie, ” you said, stroking his hair.

He looked up at you with teary eyes.

“Mommy, ” he whispered, another tear rolling down his cheek.

“Right here sweetie, ” you cooed, “mommy’s here, ”

The corners of his chapped lips turned up in a small smile. Mommy’s here. He nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, and you held him tight. You rocked him back and forth slowly, kissing the top of his head.

“Can you do me a favor Tomu?” you asked.

“Yes mommy, ” he nodded eagerly.

You slid out from under him and wiggled out of your pants, lying down on your back. His eyes lit up as he started at your clothed cunt.

“Dont be shy, ” you whispered, “come taste mommy’s pussy, ”

He nearly pounced to suck on your panties. You moaned, only encouraging him to pull off your panties. He almost suffocated himself, shoving his face into your cunt. He loved how you tasted. He loved mommy’s pussy. It was the best. It made him feel so good, and it made you feel good. That was the most important part. He wanted your cum. It didn't matter where, on his face, in his mouth, on his cock. He just wanted mommy’s cum.

He was moaning more than you were as he lapped at your cunt, sending sweet vibrations through you. Your legs wrapped around his head, and he held your thighs in place around his head. You smirked, squeezing his head tighter until he started to whine and struggle from the lack of air. He pulled away, gasping only to dive right back in, moaning again.

He was always a messy eater, caring more about tasting you than making you cum. However, today, he was doing an excellent job. He was pushing his tongue into you as far as it would go, desperately probing while his nose bumped your clit. To your surprise, you were cumming in no time, tugging his hair. You were crying his name as your legs quivered. He savored every drop, overstimulating you beyond coherent thinking.

“You did so good baby. You did so good for mommy, ” you panted, “let me make you feel good too Shiggy. What do you need, baby?”

“C-can you get the...the special toy we got, mommy?” he whispered.

“Of course, baby, ” you said.

The toy in question was a vibrating dildo attached to your strap-on. He was so excited when he picked it out.

“Look, mommy, it vibrates, ” he said, tugging on your sleeve.

You had bought it without a second thought—anything for him. The toy sat in the closet with a bottle of lube and a remote for the vibrating portion. You moved between his legs and applied lube to your fingers before slipping them in. He was used to the size of your fingers by now but prepping him was still very important. You scissored your fingers to stretch him further. Much to his delight, you began to hit his favorite spot as his sweet moans echoed through the room.

When you pulled your fingers out he whined softly.

“Mommy, please put your fingers back, ” he begged.

“Dont worry, baby. You're gonna feel so so good but you need to be patient, ” you said.

You lined up the toy and sunk in slowly. Tomura let out a long, loud moan that lasted until you were all the way inside of him. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his mouth was open. You waited until his breathing returned to its regular pace before starting to thrust slowly. His eyes rolled back, and a happy sigh left his lips as he met your slow thrusts. As you sped up, he began to pant and whimper, wiggling around to try and find his prostate. When you did find it he nearly screeched.

“M-mommy, ” he moaned, “r-right there...thank you mommy feels so, ugh, so good, ”

You grabbed the remote and pressed the button for the lowest setting. The soft buzzing sound was barely audible over the slapping of skin and squelching as you sunk into him, and of course, Tomura’s whimpers and moans. You could feel it buzzing against your clit as it the strap on rubbed against you. You turned up the intensity and started to chase the vibrating sensation. Meanwhile, Tomura was completely losing it. He was shaking and moaning as you pounded into him relentlessly. He nearly screamed when the vibrator turned up to it's highest setting.

You stopped for a moment deep inside of him and ground against the toy, moving it around in him. It felt so so good, just as good as your favorite vibrator. You were already getting close not only from the vibrations but from Tomura’s slutty moans and whimpers. Crying out for mommy to keep fucking him. So you obliged, setting a pace that had him crying from pleasure. You were getting close. All the pleasure started to focus on your clit until it burst; the little nerve sent waves of mind-blowing pleasure through your whole body.

“Tomura, ” you cried, “fuck I'm cumming, ”

He was right on the edge. The spot you stopped had the vibrating head right up against his prostate. He wiggled a little, rubbing himself on the toy until you decided to keep thrusting into him. His whole body shook as he coated himself in cum.

“Mommy, ” he cried over and over.

You held him tight through his climax and pulled out slowly. With the toy discarded and the mess cleaned up, you moved a mat of sweaty hair out of the sleeping boy’s face. You kissed his forehead and watched as his mouth found its way to your tits. Even in his sleep, he was still a little pervert.

#tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #smut #mha smut

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modern-vellichor · 4 years

Text

In Her Blood; One

Pairing: Dads Best Friend!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 24 ish, bucky is like 100 yk), daddy issues, uncomfortable home life, mentions of abortion/unwanted pregnancy, implied smut, steve being a shitty dad, smoking.

Bucky stood, leaning against the kitchen island in his best friends house. Steve is standing opposite him, Sam sitting at the kitchen table, their daughter, Sarah, next to him.

He hears the door open and close, the sound of wheels on hardwood floor. Then he hears a voice, sweet and song like, calling out

"hello?"

Sarah's face lights up, she jumps from her chair and just as another girl appears in the door, she leaps into her arms. The other girl chuckles, throwing her arms around Sarah and cooing. "Hey, chicken, I missed you"

The girl dislodges herself from Sarah, smile plastered on her face, beaming. She wraps an arm loosely around Sam's shoulder, "Hiya, dad", she places a soft kiss on his head.

She simply nods at Steve, a look almost chastising him was thrown. "Steven".

And then she turns to Bucky, and sticks out a hand. Her tone changes to something familiar and sweet.

"And you must be Bucky", he takes her hand, "I'm Y/N"

Bucky is confused, he doesn't remember Steve ever talking about a Y/N in his life. Apparently his confusion was evident, because she bursts into offended laughter, scoffing at Steve.

"Oh, he didn't tell you about me? that's rich", she stated, rolling her eyes. She turned her attention back to Bucky.

"Hi, I'm their eldest daughter", Bucky couldn't hide his surprise.

Steve never told him he had two daughters, he only ever spoke about Sarah. Sarah who aced her SATS, Sarah who started law school in September, Sarah who was his proud and joy. And now here was this new girl, who couldn't have been older than 25, standing tall and stoic before him.

Sarah and Sam observed the scene from the table, they watched with a sadness in their eyes.

Instead of questioning further, he simply introduced himself, smiling at the girl and shaking her hand. Doing anything to diffuse the suffocating tension.

"Yeah, I'm Bucky. It's nice to meet you"

"You too, you live close?"

"just down the road, what about you?"

"Art school in Paris, home for the summer"

She had a twinkle in her eyes as soon as she mentioned Paris, Bucky's smile grew wider, as did hers.

"Paris?"

"Paris", she nodded, excited.

"That must be nice"

"Its beautiful, much nicer than this shithole. Its heaven on earth over there" They spoke as Sam dragged Steve out of the kitchen into the hall, and as Sarah disappeared to her bedroom.

Sam pulled Steve out by the arm, dragging him away from the kitchen, away from Y/N.

"what the hell, Steve? you don't even talk about her? Shes your daughter!", he whispered as loudly as he could, scalding his partner.

Steve sighed, running a hand over her face. "She doesn't want anything to do with me"

"That's your fault, you gave up on her before her life had even started. You told her you didn't want her. Did you even know she was coming home? Did you care enough to remember?"

"I remember her telling Sarah something about it, Sarah passed on the message, wasn't paying attention"

"Christ's Sake, Steve"

Sarah ran to her room. Away from the looks her father gave her sister, away from the tension, away from her dad's tears, away from the memories flooding back to her.

She hated Steve for ruining Y/N the way he did, and he hated him even more for never apologising. She doesn't blame Y/N for running away to Paris either, she seems happier there.

She still loves her father though, that would never change.

Bucky sat with Sam at the table, beer in hand. Steve had long retired to bed, the two girls were giggling in Sarah's bedroom. The two men were silent, and in Buck's need for conversation, he let his curiosity get the better of him.

"What's the deal with Y/N?"

Sam paused, for a second and then sighed.

"She's Steve's bio daughter, had her with some woman a few years back, before we got together, before Sarah. When Sarah came around their relationship went to shit, Steve didn't like it. She ran away to Paris for school, stopped talking to Steve, dont blame her"

"sounds tough. How old was she when she left?"

"22, poor Sarah was only 16, broke her heart to see Y/N leave"

Bucky was used to being around all the time, but now summer had rolled around, he was here all the time.

practically living in their house. Sarah was used to his presence, but Y/N was wary. She rarely spoke, especially when Steve was around. She grasped at any chance to get out of the house, or to lock herself in her room.

It was either 'bonding time with her sister', or 'making up for lost time', and if not that it was 'school work', or 'extra curriculars'.

Bucky woke in a sweat, he had slept in the guest bedroom. Nightmares followed him though. He silently made his way down the stairs, padding softly on the carpet. The backdoor was ajar slightly, the familiar smell of smoke wafting through the crack.

He pushed it open to find you, blanketwrapped around your shoulders, cheeks wet from old cheeks, a cigarette smouldering between dainty fingers.

He said nothing as he sat next to you, mimicking your position, crossing his legs. He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking in a long drag, before handing it back to you. You laughed, "I didn't think you smoked"

You brought the smoke to your lips, tasting him on the butt, infused in the filter.

"I used to, back in the war"

"everyone smoked back in the war" Bucky nodded along, smiling with you. You rested your head on his shoulder, he smelled familiar and soft.

"What's the deal with you and your dad"

In a moment of exhaustion fueled vulnerability, you didnt think about your answer, instead just spewing out the truth.

"I dont think he actually wanted me, I think he just couldn't let my mom get an abortion"

You sat together, in silence for a while, before you sat up, and turned your body to face him. You studied him. You traced his statuesque features, steely eyes, plump lips, your eyes played at his carved abdomen, dancing over his arms, one shining in early morning light.

He studied you in turn, tired and sad eyes, smoke spilling softly over perfect lips. Beautiful body curling in on itself in the cold.

You leaned forward, lost in your subconscious, desperate for a close look, you wanted to see the cracks and pores and scars littering his tan skin. "why are you awake?", you whispered.

"nightmare"

Your eyes fell to your legs as you giggled softly, "so that makes two of us"

"well maybe I can make you feel better"He gripped your chin, forcing your gaze to his. It was strangely intimate, that's what hurt the most. He pressed his lips to yours. You returned the kiss of course. Desperate and vulnerable, your arms snaked around his neck, his hands pawing at your hips and thighs.

This was wrong, you knew it was. You had already decided that this was a bad idea, you didn't care. Not with his fingers playing at the hem of your shirt, or carded in your hair, tugging lightly to pull the sweetest of moans from the depths of your chest.

Oh, you'd regret this later. But now, you were lost in the feeling of his lips on your neck, and his hands down your shorts. The soft silk of your bed sheets were a welcome contrast to hard metal and hot flesh. A welcomed distraction from the pure filth he whispered against your skin, leaving colourful bruises in his wake.

"please", you mewled over and over as he chuckled darkly. You knew this was wrong, but those thoughts weren't at the forefront of your mind as cool fingers expertly invaded your body and his tongue was licking hot stripes up your bare thighs.

Then, as you were slowly coming down from a lust drunk state of mind, he had the guts to pull you close against his chest. You knew who Bucky Barnes was. You knew he was best friends with Steve and Sam. You knew his past, you knew his present. Here you were, curled against him like he cared.

You weren't stupid. You knew he had objectified you to gods end. You knew that he thought you were less of Steve's daughter than Sarah. He had completely dissociated you from Steve and Sam, Sarah too.

So you waited, until his breathing had slowed and his heart rate was near nonexistent. And you pulled him off of you, and you sat yourself up, swinging your legs onto your carpeted floor. Back bone straight. He didn't care so much now, he definetly didnt act it-

He moved, rolling towards you, snaking his arms around your waist and humming.

"hey"

You froze.

"hey", you stared down at the man in your bed, strands of dark hair framing his herculean face. Blue eyes boring into yours.

"I'm sorry"

"for what?"

"about you and Steve, it must be tough"

You pulled the hair tie from his hair, snapping it around your wrist, running slender fingers through knotted locks.

"don't you worry about it"

"I suppose i'll see you to it, then", he untangled himself from you and picked his belongings up from the floor, pulling his clothes back on.

"see you around, soldier", you smiled.

He stopped in your doorway, throwing a smile back at you. "you too, kotenok"

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #dadsbestfriend!bucky

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ghostiezone · 2 years

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hello hello hello good evening talk bout sad cwilbur thoughts?? i am sitting in front of u with my chin in my hands i wanna listen to rambling.

ok so im listening gto this song right. and like. not to be all sadboy about it but. i dont necessarily consider this to be a wilbur song BUT some of the lyrics r fitting so it works for this.

“like tv magazines and coffee beans, i have such simple needs” he really gets fixated on little things after he comes back. Little details he took for granted before spending 13 years in what was essentially a sensory deprivation tank modeled after his worst nightmares. But there are so many things, so many little tiny things that he never noticed before that he gets a little lost in it sometimes. The way the stars reflect off the river. The ants caught in a death spiral on the ground by the first step up to the van. The tiny bits of moss starting to sprout in stationary tires. the subtle shifts in the direction of the wind every time he steps outside. the texture of every individual loose thread in his sweater and how it feels when they brush his skin. it gets overwhelming.

little too overwhelming. maybe he develops the mildest case of agoraphobia. ranboo hasnt been to the van for a while (and won’t be back for even longer, though he doesn’t know that yet), he hasn’t seen quackity and hasn’t had the energy to make the trek over to the desert (sand is too much. just the thought of sand touching his skin in any way when he feels like this is enough to cause a physical reaction). he doesnt want to leave. doesnt wanna go anywhere because he knows no matter what, some tiny thing is just gonna set him off again. but he wants to see people. limbo has left him with a warped sense of object permanence when it comes to people. if nobody’s around to see him as alive, how does he know this isn’t just a trick? how does he know he won’t wake up the next morning to grey walls and cold concrete floors and a numbness that seeps into his bones and realize that this has all just been another elaborate nightmare conjured up by his personal hell to torture him some more? is wilbur soot even real if nobody’s around to see him?

“its not agoraphobia, its just a lack of air supply that keeps me up at night” leave it to wilbur to deny that anything’s wrong with him, even when he can’t sleep because he’s too busy hyperventilating his way through a panic attack because the knife slipped while he was cutting vegetables and barely grazed his finger.

“i’m not momentarily out of my mind” << this is just a cwilbur lyric. i think i might use this as the title for a fic in the future lmao

“i dont need to be hospitalized to make me realize that ive got a problem, no i haven’t, let me be” the constant tug of war game in his mind of desperately needing to be around people after being isolated for so long and the self hatred in the back of his mind telling him that he doesn’t deserve to be around people after he hurt them the way he did. the struggle of pulling people closer because you’re desperate to be noticed, to be real in someone’s eyes other than your own, but having punished yourself for so long that the comfort becomes uncomfortable so you just push them away again in this ugly cycle

anyway. thats all the significant lyrics, i just. holds cwilbur in my hands. this bad boy can hold so much mental illness in him. will never rid myself of the hc that he gets overstimulated by every little unexpected sensation. pain hurts Too Much, sounds are Too Loud, lights are Too Bright. everything is so much. makes him want to pull all of his hair out but he can’t even do that because it hurts too much. he forgets that he needs to eat or drink or sleep, so sometimes he’ll just unintentionally push himself to the point of exhaustion and that definitely doesn’t help with the mental burnout. when pillows are too soft he just lays on the floor of the van using his coat as a weighted blanket because it’s cold and hard and he’s used to sleeping on the floor of a train station. on nights he really can’t sleep he’ll go lay out on the grass and stare at the stars like he used to do when he lived in Pogtopia (until he realizes he can feel every individual blade of grass on his skin and the vague glow of las nevadas’ light pollution is too bright and he can hear the screech of phantoms that have been drawn to his lack of sleep and he gives up to go back to the comfort of cold hardwood floors)

#i am typing w one hand rn so forgive any typos please hgfdjh #not to be too meta either but this all came to me in the thought of #'lmao in canon reason wilbur missed the prison break bc he was busy having a panic attack in the burger van'#this went from me talking abtou the song to me just listing my pathetic cwilbur headcanons lol sorry #i cant write a full fic rn bc like. finals. but i needed an Outlet hsbdjfhds #uhh.#tw// unreality #for the limbo talk.. got kinda carried away sorry #when the prison sirens went off they echoed across the entire server #and wilbur didnt know what they were they were just Loud and Grating and he couldnt leave the van for hours after they stopped because his #*his ears were ringing too much #smile. i am going to bed now i hope u enjoyed #not art #dream smp #my writing #i guess??? i dont have a tag for hc talk oops #asks #numberstati0n #also @ aster before you yell at me for listening to autoheart again consider. i am coping hsbdhfbdkjfnsdfsdkjfj #not well! but its making me feel Something so its better than nothing #jjdfhbsd #hc talk

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

“I’ve Got The Perfect Name”

Summary- 2.9k Sam Wilson x You. Your in training with the Avenger Team and have a slight mishap. No one else is bothered by it, but you can’t seem to get over it. Sam takes you out to early morning breakfast to his favorite place to take your mind off it. Its fluffy fluff. No warnings. Unless you count Bucky stealing food off someones plate a warning. Written for @jtargaryen18 4k challenge. Congrats babes! Much love always.

The day Tony Stark came out as Ironman, things changed. The world changed. Suddenly superheroes were no longer something from comic books and movies, but real actual people, and you wanted nothing more than to become one.

This whole new world opened up, and you were quick to join in, putting in your schooling to join SHIELD. Specifically Nichols Fury. Your time working with Nicholas Fury really opened your eyes to possibilities you never could have fathomed. Being a Shield Agent trained you in all manners of fight styles and technology. So years down the road you had to move on from Shield when Captain, Black Widow and newly recruited Falcon proved it was compromised. Yet you followed Fury, your work had become everything for you.

Life happened, the snap happened, and you continued on through it as best you could. The losses, there was no way to properly mourn. You tried, once in a while to deal with it, attending Steve Rogers support groups, the two of you would talk one on one. You told him about your history with Shield and Fury, he told you more and more about the Avengers, those people he considered family. You could see the pain it caused him.

“You don't have to Steve, it's okay.”

“No I got to, it's how we keep their memory alive.” He would simply say. You left it at that, maybe you were helping him as much as he was helping you. Over time, he became more then someone you once worked with, he became a friend.

The day came when the snap was reversed, and Steve Rogers called you the next day with urgency. “We have to talk, meet me at that cafe by your apartment.”

When you two happened to meet an hour later, he slid a folder across the table at you. “I have an offer for you.”

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

You landed on the tarmac designed specifically for War Machine and for the new Captain America. Sam, he really wasn't about to give up his wings, not for the new title. You let out a frustrated exhale as you stepped away from the bullseye target and Sam landed down as you were walking away.

“Y/N! Come back here, it wasn't your fault.” His red wings folded behind him, and he jogged over to where you were opening the door and going back into the compound, undoing clasps and the harness holding your own wings and sliding them off.

“I spiraled out of control. If that had been a mission Sam, I could have hurt someone!” You snapped out as you pushed your own set of wings into the lock up. “I need to do better than this.”

Sam shrugged off his own and put it next to yours. “You are just learning still. It's only been a few months. When I first got the wings with Riley, we were crashing all over the damn place. It takes time. I'm ready to have you join the team now actually, if you weren't so damn stubborn.” trying to reassure you, you shrugged him off, closing the lockers door. You still felt like you were failing the team, and Rogers. He had believed in you when he gave you this opportunity, and still you were making mistakes. Sam might brush it off as small, but for you they were huge, significant.

“Well I say I'm not.” your arms folding over your chest and sighing. “I have to be perfect, you guys can't afford to have someone making basic mistakes.”

“Y/N, you know you can’t be perfect, no one is.” He started, but you already were walking away from Sam to go back down to the lounge, when he stopped you, frowning a bit. “You do know that right?” eyes studying yours and you gave a sharp nod, and forced a smile.

“Sure Wilson, don't worry. Tomorrows a new day.” Extracting yourself from his grasp, you continued to the lounge area, leaving Wilson frustrated with being unable to get you to calm down.

Inside the lounge area, you went immediately to the kitchen, searching for something. Anything that can take your mind off your mistake today, pulling open the fridge door, and slamming it shut again with an aggravated sigh, then onto the cupboards and drawers. Yanking open one, you saw a half crumpled bag of Mint Milanos, and snatched the bag, unrolling it. Taking out a cookie you munched on it, when a deep voice from behind you made you jump and spin around, catching sight of Bucky sitting at the table, a ripe purple plum rolling between his metal fingers. “Bad day Y/N?” He sunk his teeth into the fruit and chewed it.

“Disappointed in myself.” You dug for another cookie and crammed it in your mouth.

Bucky used his foot to push out a chair, and you went to sit in it, snapping your next cookie in half and offering him half of it, which he shook his head at.

“Sounds kinda like you're beating yourself up, I haven't heard of anyone being hurt. So what happened?”

You picked at the cookie a bit before taking a bite, chewing it slowly and setting the rest aside. “Clint be mad if I eat all his cookies.” Bucky snorted with laughter and took another bite of his plum.

“He aint gonna care. Probably won't be back for another few months now that he's back home with Laura and the kids. So? Wilson getting on your nerves, cause I could give you a few payback tips.”

“No no… Sam was helpful. He’s been trying his hardest training me with the wings. Sam told me to be careful of those updrafts, and one caught me unaware, I turned when I should have tilted.” you continued on, Bucky listening and when you tapered off, Bucky had finished his plum, the pit left behind that he made a toss, which it kerplunked into the nearby garbage can.

“So you made a mistake today. You learn from it and dont do it tomorrow.”

“And what happens when I make a mistake in a mission Buck?”

He wiped his hands against his thighs, and moved to a stand, grabbing two beers from the fridge and handing you one. “You make it right, your human Y/N, just like the rest of us. You wouldn't fault any of us on a minor thing, would you? I hope not, cause then I would be fucked.” Tipping his bottle to yours with a clink, he left it at that.

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

You still couldn't shake the feeling, wandering the compound early in the morning hours, you wanted to test the wings again, prove to yourself that Rogers wasn't wrong in picking you to take the Falcons place. You were just about to go up the stairs back to the tamarac when Sam came out of nowhere and grasped your arm.

“No way Y/N, you know you can't go flying along in the middle of the damn night. At least not yet.”

“I wasn't- Okay okay, I hear you. I just can't sleep.” You gave in, and let go of the handle, stepping away to show Sam that you weren't serious about actually doing it.

He seemed to study you, and then in the dark his grin flashed bright. “I got something better in mind.” Tugging you away, you followed him down, heading towards the garage.

“Well what's that Wilson?”

“Oh you will see, get in the car.” He opened the passenger side door, and you folded your arms in defiance.

“You know it is only fair to tell a person where they are going. What if sweat pants and a hoodie isn't proper attire.”

Giving you a nudge, in which you complied, he shut the door and went behind the wheel. “I assure you, you will be fancy enough there. Promise.” The drive was quick being 4 in the morning and no traffic. You leaned forward to read the sign above where he stopped.

“The Wayside? You took me to an all night diner?”

“Sure did, best place to get breakfast this early in the morning. Plus you were driving me nuts at the compound. Up all night, pacing around, beating yourself up over nothing” Sam insisted, and got out of the car, you followed suit, wrapping your arms around yourself as his own went over your shoulder, leading you inside. You scowled at him and rolled your eyes.

“I was doing no such thing.”

“Sure you weren’t Y/N. Morning Sal!” Sam called cheerfully to the cook just in sight in the kitchen, he gave a wave of his spatula in salute to Sam and turned back to his stove, where you could see he was preparing to start cooking. Sam scanned the room, and then pointed at a booth near the entrance, situating you on a specific side. “Perfect, exactly where we need to be.”

“Need to be?” You questioned as you sat down, glancing out the window to a sky starting to lighten up, another car pulling into the parking lot.

“Yup, take your mind off yesterday, get a damn good breakfast and just chill.” Sam explained what he wanted, and you listened closely, laughed with a light shake of the head, arching a brow with a grin on your face. Just what Sam was looking for.

“You actually do this often?” you say as a waitress grabs a couple menus, making her way over, dropping them off.

“Sam, two mornings in a row? I say you must be growing sweet on me, cause Sal’s cooking isn't that amazing.”

“Awww you know I'm always sweet on you.” Sam flirted back while you took the menu, and flicked it open. Nearby you could hear Sal cursing in the kitchen, the waitress rolling her eyes. “Don't mind him, he does that every morning. Get you two something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice, milk, water?”

You snapped your menu closed with a smile to your waitress, even if you were still bleary eyed and half asleep. Your eyes darted to her name tag before answering. “Coffee please Sara.” She jotted down before waving off Sam's request.

“Orange Juice and coffee, black?” She quirked a brow and Sam confirmed with a wink, and nodded. “Be right back you two.” Her flats clicked on the linoleum floor while she went around the counter, and grabbed mugs. You settled in your booth seat, your back leaning against the wall as your legs stretched out on the seat, glancing at Sam.

“So… you actually sweet on Sara?” You grinned at him, and he nodded.

“I've been thinking about asking her out. She's a sweetheart and I would love to get to know her better. I just haven't yet.”

“And, what's stopping you Wilson? You wait too long, and someone else is going to beat you to it.”

Sam glanced out the window a minute, shrugging a bit. “Eh, seems like we’re always heading out doing something, and do I really want to drag someone into a life where she's worried? How is that fair?”

“Well…” You drifted off, Sam wasn't wrong. The thought had crossed your mind before. It would be alot to ask anyone to wait around, not knowing. As Avengers, they could be called on day or night, plus couldn't talk about their mission. Your partner wouldn't have any idea. “... Ask her. She should be able to make that decision for herself, right? You don't know, she might be okay with it, ya know? Besides, its just a date. Get out and have fun.”

“I could say the same for you Y/N.” He snorted, and caught Sara heading back over, flashing his bright grin and thanking her as she set down your coffees and his orange juice. “Can I set you two up?” She untucked her pen from her ear and grasped a pad from her apron. You were prompt in ordering your blueberry pancakes with sausage, Sam with hashbrowns, bacon and two fried eggs. Your foot nudged him under the table, and he flashed you a look. Since he wasn't ready, you didn't push any further for now. Left alone again, you picked up your conversation where it was left off.

“Same for me? Just cause I haven't dated in several months.”

“Ha, you haven't gone for a night out since you took the wings.” He sipped from his coffee cup while you were prompt grasping sugar and cream, dumping it in.

“Well I'm in training, I don't have time.”

“You're done with training Y/N, the wings are yours anytime you want.” His eyes lifted to catch yours, and you could feel unease as to how he turned this right around on you. Back to what was keeping you awake, the reason you and Sam were even out at 4 AM. “I even got a kickass name for you Y/N, since you can't have Falcon.”

You picked up his straw that Martha left for his orange juice, twiddling it between your fingers. “Wait, why not? You're not the Falcon anymore, since you took the shield.”

“Falcons mine, I still got the wings, Red Wing. I'm not giving that up. But, now hear me out.” He sounded so excited that you made a go on motion while prying off the top of the straws paper, listening. “We can call you, The Kestrel.”

That made you snort, bust out into a laugh, looking at him with amusement. “The Kestrel? Oh damn, where did you come up with that?”

“Come on, it's cool. You're smaller than me, and your wings do that hover in place thing. Know what Kestrels do when hunting? They hover over a spot till their prey bolts in fear. Then BAM! strike. Its badass name, you should consider it.”

“When did you go all Nat Geo on me Sam?” You purse your lips at the end of the straw and blew, shooting the paper at him, which he swatted away. Grabbing the straw from you, he stuck it in his orange juice and drank.

“Since forever, You should try it sometime. Expand the brain.” Tapping his forehead, Sara was heading back over with two steaming plates, setting your stack of blueberry pancakes in front of you, and Sam's full breakfast in front of him. “Thanks Sara.” Sam smiled warmly at her this time, which was returned.

“Enjoy you two, let me know if I can get anything else.” she looked at both of them, and then retreated back to help newly arriving customers settling at the counter. More regulars as she engaged in conversations with them. You couldn't help but watch Sam's lingering gaze follow her before he went back to his plate. You poured syrup on, and cut off your first piece.

“How about this Sam, You go ask Sara on a date, and I will consider taking up the wings officially. Name and all, no more training. You and Buck both seem to think I'm ready.” compromising with him, you saw a flash of accomplishment in Sam’s eyes and an outreach of his hand.

“Deal, shake on it, or it doesn't count.”

Your hand reached across and gave a firm shake. Once your hands separated, you made a motion for him to go, in which he took a deep breath and slid himself from the booth. When approaching the counter, Sam caught Saras attention, and you went back to cutting pancakes, trying to not be obvious watching from the corner of your eye. You could see Sam putting on some of his charm, a warm smile, leaning in closer.

Bucky suddenly fell into Sam's seat in the booth, grabbing a piece of bacon off his plate and crunching it. “Can't believe you two didnt invite me.”

“Shut up Barnes, i'm trying to listen.” you scolded him, taking a glance to see both Sara and Sam had their phones out, and appearing to be setting up a time, exchanging numbers.

“Oh! Is he finally doing it? About damn time. He's crushed on her forever now.” Now a piece of Sam's toast was gone.

“We made a deal. I decided to officially step out of training if he asked her out.”

Bucky looked at you in surprise, the triangle of toast hanging from his fingertips. “Well damn, the one time I sleep in, all this exciting stuff happens. What changed your mind?”

“You and Sam.” Shrugging a bit. “Maybe you two were right, plus it was the incentive Sam apparently needed.”

“Bucky, get your own breakfast!” Sam shoved back in the booth next to Bucky and grabbed his plate back from his friend. Bucky resettling in against the window, finishing off the piece of toast he had snagged earlier.

“Why? I got yours.” he snickered and glanced back over your way. “Sam tell you his name yet?”

“Mmhm, The Kestrel.” you chuckled and Sam shook a fork at you with a piece of egg at the end.

“It's a cool name, and I stand by it.”

“I will give it some thought. You get that date?” You change the subject, Bucky and You looking at him expectedly.

“Matter of fact I did, tomorrow night I'm taking her out.”

Bucky grinned, clapping Sam's shoulder. “Hell yea man, good for you.” Swiping another piece of bacon off his plate, the three of you continued on, the sun finally coming up to start the day, filling the cafe with easy laughter and the clinking of forks on plates.

#jtargaryen18s4k #sam wilson x you #sam wilson #the falcon #bucky barnes #fluffy #cute #amber writes #sweater writes #marvel #mcu

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kareofbears · 3 years

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 1/5

“Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs to his apartment after a lengthy run.

It’s hot for spring, mild for summer, and now that it’s late June, it’s finally starting to teeter into real heat. He escalated slowly, gripping the guard rail like an old man to make sure his legs don’t give out, in no rush to head back to an empty apartment. His mom’s been doing back to back shifts, businesses booming like it does during this time of the year.

Normally, that would make him miserable. Nothing worse than hopping back from a day of fun shit only to come back to an empty living space with laundry piled to the nines and the TV left running. He doesn’t blame his mom because he’s not an asshole, but he never dealt well with being alone. But nowadays, he’s actually starting to like it. Crave it. Maybe a little too much.

It’s easier to deal with being alone than getting that sinking feeling he gets whenever he talks to his friends.

Shoving his hand in his basketball shorts, he pulls out his keys when something makes him pause. The plastic plant beside the entrance had been moved. Ryuji squints. Quietly, he grabs the knob and turns. It’s unlocked.

“Hey.”

Ryuji lets out a frustrated sigh, tension leaving his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “Fucking hell. How’d you get in here?”

Seeing Ann sit primly with her legs crossed in a dining table that’s barely big enough to put two plates down evokes a feeling of nostalgia in him. She holds a key between her fingers idly. “Spare key hasn’t changed since we were thirteen.”

He walks to the fridge, pulls out a carton of milk and drinks it straight, ignoring her grimace. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he offers it to her.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, putting it back in the fridge. “I’m gonna shower. I think we might have some chips in the cupboards if you want some. Might be stale though.”

When Ann speaks again, her tone is flat. “You haven’t been hanging out with us. Or even talking to us.”

He tries not to let the annoyance show in his face too much. “Yeah, well, what part of ‘I need some alone time’ was confusing to you?”

Wood creaks, and he can feel her presence right behind him. “Cut the crap, Sakamoto. Something happened, I know it did. It’s not like you for your big mouth to be shut like this.”

Shaking his head, he strides to his room, praying that Ann will take the hint.

She doesn’t. “Okay, so I’ll just keep talking until something happens.” She leans against his door frame as he rummages for a change of clothes, listing off with her fingers. “It’s summer vacation, so it’s not a school thing. Phantom Thief stuff has been done for a while, so it’s not that either. I saw your mom last week, and she’s doing great. Congratulate her on the promotion for me, by the way. And the only other thing in your life that’s important is—” he hears her pause suddenly. “Are you and Akira doing okay?”

The sudden sharpness in her voice is enough to make his irritation ebb away for a second. “We’re fine,” he answers, pulling a probably clean shirt from the bottom of his drawer. He knows just how much she’s invested in their relationship. She’s pretty much a third member given how desperate she is to make them work. “I would’ve told you if we weren’t.”

“Thank god,” she breathes. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he rolls his eyes. “A big fat load of nothing with nothing sprinkled on top. You want me to say it again?”

“If it’s nothing, then why aren’t you over the moon that Akira’s finally visiting tomorrow?”

His stomach does a weird flop inside of him. He can’t tell if it’s a good flop or a bad one. “I’m over the moon,” he defends. “I’m crazy excited.”

“Then show it!”

“Okay! Damn, sorry I wasn’t happy enough for you.” Giving up on finding clean shorts, he picks one up from the floor and hopes it isn’t too gross. “I’m headed to the shower.” He rounds on her, giving her a glare. “And do not tell Akira that anything’s going on with me, ‘cause there isn’t anything going on. You’re just gonna make him worry for no reason and he’s gonna be all—” he frowns, overexaggerated. “—About this, so cool it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. He won’t hear about it from me.” Ann gives him a long stare, and he refuses to look away. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks, softer this time.

“Never been better. Now scram.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late!” she calls as she marches through his apartment, foot out the door. “Noon! Leblanc!”

“I got it!” he yells back.

When the lock clicks back into place, Ryuji leans his back against the wall, letting his eyes slide shut. Is he that obvious that Ann would notice? He rubs his eyes with palms, frustrated. If Ann noticed, Akira’s definitely going to notice, and that isn’t allowed. He’ll just have to do better.

Going into the bathroom, flicking on the shower, he realizes he forgot his towel in his bedroom. Stupid Ann, distracting him.

Padding back to his room, he nabs it from the side of his bed, refusing to look at the letter collecting dust on his desk as he flicks the light off once more.

—

Akira came home to a face-full of streamers, two pots of curry, and six arms tackling him. Smiles and hugs were passed like a bottle of wine after a war has been won, and Akira shrugs it all off like he isn’t soaking up each and every exclamation of how much they miss him for a rainy day. Morgana gets his fair amount of head scratches, Akira gets enough noogies to warrant a concussion, and even Ryuji somehow manages to forget his problems for approximately three minutes.

It’s evening now, and while everyone had already left (not after slamming down two plates each and Yusuke brazenly asking for tupperware after the fact), Ryuji decided to linger.

“So,” he starts, sleeves rolled up as he washes the dishes while Akira dries. It might not look like it, but he doesn’t mind doing his chores; especially not with the way they both purposefully knock their knuckles against each other whenever they pass a plate between themselves.

“So,” Akira repeats. “I’m home. That’s cool, huh?” Even with eighteen layers of nonchalance layered on top of each other, there’s no hiding the lilt in his voice.

“Pretty damn cool,” he rinses a mug and hands it to him. Ryuji pauses as he watches Akira dry, lip quirked up. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Cleaning?”

“No, you bastard.” He reaches forward, unable to help himself as he pinches his cheek. “Smiley.”

Akira slaps his hand away. “I’m always happy,” he says, voice fond.

“I didn’t say happy, now did I? I said—” Ryuji wipes both hands on his jeans before pinching his cheek with both hands. “Smiley!”

He doesn’t fight back this time; instead, he lets Ryuji knead his face. “Your hands are wet,” he complains, slightly slurred.

“Suck it up.” His skin is mesmerizingly soft. Probably softer than even a girl’s. He would hold him like this all night if he’d let him. “This saves you from washing your face tonight, so you’re welcome.”

With one last tug, he reluctantly sets him free. Akira’s face is red and blotchy from the assault, but somehow he pulls it off because of course he does. “Thanks,” he deadpans.

“Don’t sweat it, dude. You know I got you,” he laughs, and for a second, he feels good. Light. Being with Akira does that to him, a pendant that wards off all evil. The pendant must’ve had some fine print in the contract though, because his stomach drops again when he remembers again. Ryuji turns around and starts scrubbing the pan harder than he needs to. Chill out, chill out, chill out.

Arms encircle his waist. “Sojiro’s gonna smite us if we don’t finish these before he opens tomorrow,” Ryuji says.

“I know.” A chin hooks around his shoulder blade, sliding in place. A perfect fit. “We’ll get to it.”

Ryuji leans back, far enough to smell the shampoo in his hair. He breathes in deep. It’s not what he’s used to, probably different brands in his hometown, but it still smells nice.

With the water still running, a group of businessmen’s laughter booming from just outside the cafe, Ryuji nearly says it. To take that weight off of his weakened knees and share some of the burden with someone who’s never complained about carrying some of his baggage. It would be embarrassing, humiliating, fucking mortifying, but it would be better than this, right?

He opens his mouth. “Missed you,” is what comes out instead.

“Missed you more, I think.” A beat passes, and then Akira continues, quietly: “You don’t know how good it feels to be back.”

That was all it took. The final piece, the last lock. The words he needed to convince him that this was the right thing to do. If he was on the fence of whether or not to tell Akira, this was the tug that took him over the edge. Because Akira came here for one reason: to have fun. To feel good again. To feel like Akira again. Is Ryuji really going to be the one to shit all over that? To fuck up his summer vacation with his problems again?

Yeah. Fuck that.

He wishes he can pull Akira impossibly closer. “Welcome home.”

It can wait until he leaves. After that, the world will just have to explode, taking him with it.

—

Ryuji’s in bed that night, tossing and turning, blanket tangled in his legs and head underneath his pillow, when he finally caves.

Smacking around for his phone, he pulls it to his face, squinting against the bright light.

SR: futaba

The response was immediate.

SF: what SR: that was fast. whatre you doing up SF: im always up. why are YOU up SR: just wanted to talk SF: ok

He waits a few moments to see if she’d continue the conversation. She doesn’t.

SR: hows school? SF: ?????? who cares, its three am SR: i care SF: ugh, go to sleep. we’re meeting tomorrow anyway SR: yeah but you dont talk about school during group meetings much SF: alright weirdo SF: schools cool. people mostly leave me alone, and i think akira must’ve tipped off kawakami cause she is wayyyy too nice to me even after bullying her in front of the class SR: what did you do lmfao SF: she said that whoever could recite pi to ten decimal points can get a bonus ten percent in the final SF: and i kept going until the bell rang SR: damn! SF: its mostly okay though. better than i thought it’d be for sure SR: and how about actual school stuff SR: like classes. Math, science, english, all that shit. SF: sheesh, easiest part no doubt. could do all that stuff in my sleep SR: really? even though youre a year behind? SF: uh yeah? i could be eight years behind and still dunk on these clowns with one hand tied behind my back and watching a live stream

Ah, right. Futaba’s a literal genius. As in ‘Make A Documentary Of Her In Twenty Years In A Movie He’d Never Watch But Makoto Would Love’ kind of genius. He forgot.

SR: nice SR: thanks, im gonna sleep now SF: kk see you SF: (¯﹃¯)

—

“Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Ryuji says when he opens the door to his apartment.

Ann is sitting in his dining chair once again, this time donned in hot pink shades and a comically big sun hat. He tries not to let annoyance and panic flare inside him. He loves her, because of course he does, but he was banking on stocking up some energy and alone time before they hit the road. Maybe even shed a couple of frustrated tears, who knows? As long as he’s alone, it’s fair game.

“Hey, don’t give me any of that,” Ann says. “You and packing your luggage is like mayonnaise and my flawless complexion—it’s not good, buster. Remember Hawaii?”

He feels his skin heat up, and slams the door harder than he should. “How the hell was I supposed to know I’d get randomly checked? ‘Sides, I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“A backpack filled with condoms and a toothbrush might as well have been illegal.” Ann reaches into her pocket, whipping out a wrinkled piece of paper. “You can’t pull that kinda crap now, and if I know him as well as I do, I’m sure Akira’s already packing for that.” She laughs at her own joke and raises her hand enthusiastically. He can’t help but grin as he high fives her. Hey, even if his life is falling apart, at least he’s still getting some, right?

“So I’m here to help,” she continues, shaking the sting from her palms. “I finished packing a day early and everything, so I better get some thanks after this.” Before he can complain, she holds up a finger, expression stern. “I know you don’t need help. Yes, I’m still worried about you. Yes, I’m doing this because I’m worried about you. Let me do this stupid little thing, okay? It’ll make me feel better.”

His stomach churns, more intense than usual. “You’re still worried about me?” he asks, breath hitching. What? No. Did he fail at that too? Does she know? That must mean Akira knows, right? And if Akira knows, then—

“Whoa, hold on!” A hand grips his shoulders. “Deep breaths, Sakamoto. Don’t spiral on me now.” Gently, he’s led to a chair. He sits gratefully and waits for his heart rate to drop. The entire time, Ann stays quiet.

Eventually, when the room stops closing in on him, he sighs and leans back against his chair. “Sorry,” he says, feeling really stupid. Damn, what happened to him keeping this on the down low?

She slaps his knee. “Shut up, don’t apologize for that,” she scolds, and he almost smiles. It’s easy to forget how good Ann is at this sort of thing. For better or for worse, she’s had plenty of practice while talking to Shiho. The grip on his knee tightens. “Ryuji…”

He shakes his head. “No.”

And, for better or for worse, she absolutely does not let things go.

“Look, buddy.” The grip is starting to hurt, and it means business if her red acrylics are anything to go by. “I just saw you have a teensy little panic attack two damn minutes ago, and you’re expecting me to just leave you to it? Are you a clown? Are you a clown in a circus, Sakamoto? Is that what you are?”

“I just don’t want to fucking talk about it.” He shoves her hand off his knee, and before he knows it, his voice is raised. “Christ, can’t you just leave me alone? All you do is get up in my business when I clearly didn’t ask you to. Just cause we did this whole Phantom Thief crap together doesn’t mean it gives you the right to everything going on in my life.”

He loathes the ringing in his ears from his own voice. He hates it when he yells in the apartment, but hates the silence that follows more. Too much like his dad, too much like his exhausted mom.

Ann is staring up at him, hard and unwavering. “You’re such a piece of shit sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“If you want me off your tail, you’re gonna have to work harder than that.” She gets on her feet, glaring at him. “‘Piss me off and make me leave in tears’ was your tactic, right? Boring. Overdone. Try again.”

The way she’s standing, shoulders pushed back and chin jutted out like she’s ready for a shoot in some kind of army magazine, means she’s dead serious.

“Ann, just get the fuck out of my house. You’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Ooo, classic 'angry and make me storm off’, right? Better, but not good enough.”

“What the hell are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you could say whatever pops into your bleached head—” she flicks his forehead, viciously sharp nails digging into his skin. “And I wouldn’t go anywhere. You could call me names, or threaten me, or try to hurt me, but I am not going anywhere.”

Her eyes are bright blue, but he can still feel the heat of it like Carmen was inches in front of him. His throat quivers when he swallows. She’s really not going to give in.

“My knee’s been real bad lately,” he relents, making a fist and lightly knocking it against his thigh. “Normally it acts up during bad weather, but the sun hasn’t left in weeks and it still sucks. I didn’t wanna tell anyone, ‘cause I hate talking about…” he trails off, but she doesn’t need him to continue. They both know damn well who he’s referencing.

Ann’s face crumbles. “That’s horrible,” she says, absently rubbing the red mark on his forehead. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

He waves it off, the same way he does whenever his mom asks him if he’s getting enough sleep. “Don’t sweat it. I know how crazy you get.”

It’s a real testament to how worried she must’ve been when she didn't take the olive branch. “I know you probably don’t want to worry the group, but you should tell Akira.”

“Ann—” he starts wearily.

“You know I’m right about this. Now that the Metaverse is back and we’re going to be running around more, he can’t not know about this. Your boyfriend aside, he’s our leader. Something really nasty can happen if we’re not thinking straight.”

“...Sure.”

Ann gives him a weird look. “That was surprisingly easy. I thought you’d complain more.”

She’s getting way too sharp. “What, you wanted me to be a dick about it?”

“I guess not.” Leaning against his kitchen counter, she chews her lip like it’s bubble gum. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Yeah.” Ryuji stands to stretch, ready for this conversation to be over. “You can keep this between us—”

“—Except for Akira,” they say in unison, Ryuji exasperated and Ann insistent.

“Fine. I’ll back off if you think you have it under control.”

“Hallelujah, she’s finally giving me space.”

“But,” her gaze is harder than steel. “Never, ever keep secrets from me again, got it?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Gotcha. Can we get started now? I’m over talking about my horrible past so that we can finally have a straight-out-of-an-anime summer vacation.”

Her eyes brighten up. “Yes! Okay, I made this huge list and I know for a fact we’re gonna have to go for a quick shopping trip—”

“Quick? So, like, three hours going by your standards?”

“Don’t interrupt me. We need to pack some swim trunks, toiletries, and I know you’re worried about your mom so we’ll go grocery shopping for her before we leave in the morning.” Feet tapping excitedly, “This is gonna be so fun. You start packing, I’ll go shopping. Rendezvous in an hour.”

Before he even gets a chance to put a word in, she’s already out the door.

—

Later that night, when everything is messily thrown into one oversized backpack and a rucksack and the fridge is chock full of groceries for his overworked mother, he gets a text.

TA: i know you said not to bring it up but i dont care TA: i searched it up and apparently cold and hot compresses can help with the pain on your knee TA: also getting shoes with really good support would help too. i modeled for some shoe brands, i can def get you some discounts!!! TA: like, i know this is all base level stuff and you know this already, but i bet you we can ask sophia for more help. maybe she can access top secret doctor stuff for knee injuries?? :O

Ryuji stares at his phone for a long moment, before shoving it under his pillow.

Great. Add ‘guilt’ and ‘keeping up with a lie’ to the list of shit he has to worry about.

—

“A lake!” Yusuke cries, kneeling in front of the body of water like a man discovering a desert oasis. Gently, he cups the clean water and cradles it against his cheek. “You are nothing like the garbage-infested sewers in Tokyo. You are crystal clear. You are divine. You are salvation. You are—”

“Akira, Inari’s being a weirdo again,” Futaba points an accusing finger at Yusuke, who’s shirt is slowly absorbing more and more of the water. “At this rate, he’s gonna have to change.”

Makoto grunts as she lugs out the grill singlehandedly, a loud clang ringing out when she nonchalantly sets down a family-sized piece of machinery. “Alright, here it is.” She catches the look of awe that Ryuji’s giving her. “Does it still shock you that I can probably bench press you twice over?”

“I’m just trying to figure out where you’re hiding all that muscle, prez,” he snorts, and it’s the truth. Her and Akira must be the same breed, considering they’re both way too lithe to be this strong. He’s seen the way they throw a punch in the Metaverse—they could probably disintegrate a dude in real life if they really wanted to. Like yeah they workout, but not that much. Maybe they’re dieting too? He’s tried dieting, but ramen is just way too good, even at the expense of muscles.

“Ryuji, when you’re done spacing out, can you grab the ingredients?” Akira calls out.

“Ugh, cut the mind reading dude, it scares the hell out of me.”

He shoots him a signature Kurusu Akira smile; small yet disarming all the same, and it never fails to get Ryuji’s heart to do weird flips. “It’s not mind reading once you realize that I’m just obsessed with you.”

Instead of answering, Ryuji grumbles as he stalks off into the RV. Damn him and his genuine words and compliments.

He pulls out their luggage from underneath the table. Akira doesn’t need to say what ingredients he needs to grab—he’s helped out enough times during Leblanc’s afterhours to know the curry spices by heart. Ryuji might be a failure, but hey, he can do this no problem.

Grabbing bottles and shakers and balancing them on top of his arms like an overworked waiter, he glances left and feels his heart dropped. The envelope from his room—dust-free from rubbing against the rest of his luggage—is sticking out of his backpack. After a quick adjustment, he uses his free hand to shove it deep in his bag, hearing the paper crinkle in on itself.

It was a spur of the moment decision to bring it along with him, one that he’s still half-regretting. Why’d he do it? Maybe he was worried that he might enjoy this trip a little too much? Maybe he was some kind of masochist that likes having his problems and anxiety follow him literally everywhere he goes? Maybe he was scared to hell and back that his mom would find it before he had a chance to tell her himself? Fuck if he knows.

Poking his head out of the door, he yells, “Heads up!”

Throwing a bottle of black pepper, Akira catches it without looking. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Too late, I already sweat a little bit.”

Ryuji squints. “It’s sweated. Right, Ann?”

“Don’t look at me. I went to America for modelling, not a spelling bee.”

“I won all my spelling bees in middle school,” Makoto says, chest puffed out in pride.

“Were you the only one who joined?”

“That’s not important.”

Akira’s phone beeps enthusiastically, and Sophia’s voice rings out. “Got it! According to the internet, ‘sweat’ and ‘sweated’ are both grammatically valid. Technically, both Ryuji and Ann are correct.”

“Can we all just shut up for a second about sweating, for the love of god,” Futaba fans her face weakly. “It’s already sooooo hot. I feel like my skin is melting. Yusuke, is my skin melting?”

He looks at her for a moment, peering closely. “Yes.”

“How about we go in for a quick dip in the lake?” Haru offers, and Ryuji suspects that she can feel the same energy that he’s feeling when the group gets like this. “We were all talking about how beautiful it was, and it would cool down Futaba-chan no problem.”

She leans down, swirling her hand in the water. “It’s a little chilly, but it’ll definitely take care of the heat.”

“Good idea!” Futaba jumps up and throws off her shoes, ready to march in. “This is gonna feel so good.”

“Socks!” Akira reminds her.

“I know that!”

Haru and Yusuke follow suit, eager to get away from the heat, Makoto going in to change to shorts. Ryuji guesses it’s probably not an easy feat to roll up leather pants. Probably makes it either to ride motorcycles, or whatever people with leather pants do.

He feels a poke in his side. “You hopping in with them?” Akira asks.

No. The answer is already at the tip of his tongue, ready to roll out. Given how cramped the RV is, keeping up the trademark Sakamoto energy while lugging more baggage than an airport employee is brutal. It’s barely been a day since they started the trip, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. Already his chest feels heavy with something, and whenever all the windows are rolled up, it gets weirdly hard to breathe. But if he says no, Akira would definitely know something was up.

“Uh—”

“Actually, I think we’ll take over the curry for you,” Ann cuts in.

Ryuji turns to her, startled and wide eyed.

“Why?” Akira asks, just as confused as he is. They both know how much Ann loves being in the middle of things, especially in group hangouts.

“Because you look like you could use a break. I know for a fact that you had to pack Yusuke’s stuff for him, or else the van would’ve had fifteen canvases and an easel, and you had to grocery shop for everyone, and talk Haru out of a guilty spiral because she wasn’t confident enough in her driving. And all this before—” Ann looks down at her wrist to peer at a non-existent watch. “Five o’clock.

He frowns. “Sure, but I’ve done twice as much during our prime. This,” he gestures at the pot. “Is a walk in the park. Thank you, though.”

Ann sighs, heavy and contemplative. “I didn’t want to say it out right, but since you’re being difficult…” She places a hand on his shoulder. “You should hang out with Futaba more. Being gone from her for that long has been rough, and yes, we took care of her while you weren’t there, but you’re different.” Her hand tightens. “You know, Wild Card and all that.”

“That’s not what that means, but I appreciate the effort,” Akira says. Despite his words, it’s clear that what she said bothered him. Eyes flickering to Futaba, enthusiastically kicking the water to see how far the droplets would go, he directs his gaze to Ryuji. “Is it okay if…?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, pretending like relief isn’t crashing through his body. “Go.”

Akira kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” When he pulls away, he gives Ann a hesitant look.

She grimaces. “Thanks, but no. Go hangout with the gremlin.”

He gives her a salute and saunters off, rolling up his jeans to wade through the water, making sure to splash Futaba on the way there.

After a moment of silence, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll say it. Your acting classes are actually doing you some good.”

“Ha!” she points at him triumphantly. “And you said it’d be a waste of time!”

“I didn’t say that.” Ryuji slouches into a nearby camping chair, the one that Sojiro forced them to lug along, hoping that some of his fatigue would seep away. “We both know that Futaba’s never been better, so what’s up? Why’d you throw out Akira like that?”

“It’s not for me, stupid,” she scoffs, but he can’t help but feel the weight in his chest get even heavier. He sinks even deeper into his chair. “The water was cold, right? That would make your knee even worse.”

“Yeah,” he blinks, having already forgotten the whole fucked-up knee story. “Thanks.”

“I won’t chew you out for not telling Akira, even though I should. But like I said,” she ruffles his hair. “I got your back. I know it must be hard, but you’re still acting all normal. We’re lucky that it’s only affecting you in the real world, too.” She had come up with that one herself, and thank god she did, cause he wouldn’t have known what to say if she had confronted him on how he could easily do flips and sprints in the Metaverse. “That just takes a lot of guts, and even though I know for a fact this would make you feel so much better once you tell him, I trust that you know what you need better than me.”

“Quit trying to look all cool,” he says, and prays to fucking god that the red on his face comes off as embarrassed gratitude rather than earth-shattering guilt. “And aren’t you supposed to be cooking, curry master?”

“Hey, he asked you to do it, not me. I’ll help you get the ingredients, but no way I’m doing the whole cooking shebang.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, as if he doesn’t secretly love the idea of getting to cook for Akira this time instead of the other way around. Pushing himself up, Ann reaches out to help him. “You don’t gotta baby me, Takamaki.”

“I’ll baby you for as long as I need to, and then eventually Akira will be the one babying you. We come in shifts.”

“I hope you’re unionized.”

Makoto pokes her head out of the RV, wearing a showercap. “Did someone say unionized?”

“What the hell?” Ryuji staggers back in shock. Crap. “How long have you been there?”

“And why are you wearing that?” Ann gasps.

“Not long, and I don’t want my hair getting wet in case I fall in. We have no idea what’s been in here.”

“Were you going to fall in a bathtub?”

“Did you want me to push you in?”

“No, ma’am.”

—

There wasn’t a problem initially. Well, not one in Palaces, anyway. Wait, they’re called Jails now, which is really confusing. Ryuji’s just gonna have to avoid using those words so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot.

Back in Shibuya, it had been...fine. Attacks landed, punches were dodged, Batons passed like his life depended on it (and it did). Like clockwork, instinct came to him and the weird nostalgic normalcy of fighting Shadows made it bearable.

Ryuji was off his game, and he could tell.

But he was barely off his game. If anything, he still had a foot on his game. Maybe even an entire leg on the game if he was being generous. He was still enough on the game that even Akira doesn’t notice.

But the weird part was, he doesn’t mind the fact that he’s off his game. In an even weirder way, he’s never been more on his game in his entire life.

“There!” Futaba’s voice crackles through the comms. “Uncle is open wide!”

“Her name is Ante, Oracle,” Makoto responds, brass knuckles jammed into the throat of some poor Shadow. “It’s open, but it’s vicious.”

Ryuji calls for Kidd just as she pulls away, wiping out the rest of the weaker ones with ease. “This thing’s like a goddamn mousetrap.” Ante’s serpent body slithering on the cool tiles so fluidly that it gives him the creeps. Her tail has tiny spikes etched into it, like mini knives hot glued onto a tetherball. The minute any of them even come close, she strikes outwards. “How vicious is vicious?”

“Depends on how fast you are.”

Akira’s head jerks up, and when their eyes meet, cracks a smile. “Fast, you say?”

Ryuji grins wider than he has in days. Joker relying on him? How can someone not feel a little giddy at that? “Say no more, leader.”

He stretches quickly, and feels eyes piercing the back of his head. Ann, probably. Shrugging it off, he sprints low towards Ante. As long as Ann doesn’t say a word, there won’t be a problem.

She’s taken hits from where Akira’s been concentrating on her. A mixture of bullet holes in its scales mixed in with cross slashes from where his bless attacks hit had left her delirious and pissed off. When he’s close, she bares her fangs and strikes, only for him to skid on the smooth tiles, rugged hands touching his mask.

“Come on out, Captain!”

His blond hair ruffled from Kidd’s attack, a crack of lightning came down from his Persona’s mangled hand, and a split second later her tail had been sliced clean through. And another crack comes, her neck landing on the tiles with a muffled thud. An attack that should’ve just been enough to incapacitate Ante had instead completely decapitated her.

A beat of silence passed as everyone processed what had happened. Ryuji’s mouth drops open, but he can’t muster any surprise.

He doesn’t know how, or why, but for some reason his attacks have been at least five times as strong as they had been back before the Metaverse was still intact. Moves that he didn’t even know are on the tip of his tongue, as if he had practiced them all his life. Normally this would only happen after rigorous training for months, adding up in tiny increments.

Now it happens every day.

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the right side of the gym today,” Futaba laughs awkwardly.

“What on earth was that, Skull?” Haru asks, eyes wide. “I had never seen you do something like that.”

Morgana’s tail swished. “She makes a good point. When’d you learn that one?”

“I don’t know.” He calls back Captain Kidd, eyeing the drop that Ante had left behind, but doesn’t move forward to snatch it up. “But whatever the reason is, it’s awesome as hell. I mean, did you see that? Sliced that thing open like a stuffed bear.”

“Let’s not bring stuffed animals into this, please,” Makoto frowns.

Akira’s giving him a look again, and it leaves Ryuji unsettled. “What is it, dude? I got something on my face?”

“No,” he steps closer, and his voice drops. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? I’ve never been better, man.” He flashes him a grin, hoping that it’s bright enough to distract Akira’s ever-searching eyes. “Come on, let’s get moving. Natsume’s heart isn’t gonna change itself.”

After one last glance, he nods, and Ryuji can see the minute Calculating Joker comes back. “You heard him. Let’s get moving, everyone.”

They all follow him up the stairs, eager to get moving past the eternally bleary and uncreatively written setting of Natsume’s Jail.

“Psst!” Ryuji hisses at Ann, who turns to him with a question in her eyes. “Panther! Get your ass over here!”

“What?” she whispers back.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I fucked up my knee when I rushed her, and I still haven’t told Joker, so do you mind…?”

An expected look of disapproval emerges from her expression, and Ryuji hurries to beat her to the punch. “I know, I know! But I can’t tell him in the middle of all this, now can I?”

“Fine,” she grumbles before calling Carmen. “I’ll cover you for now, but only ‘cause I’m a good friend and I’m super cute.”

“Yeah, the cutest, prettiest, whatever.” He glances over to Akira, swooping down to grab Ante’s drops before heading up. “Quick, before he looks back.”

Diarama washes over him, and even though relief floods through his body, he can feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. He’s not sure if it’s from her inherent heat or from the stress of lying to her again.

“Better?” Ann asks.

“Way better. Thanks.” He catches Sophia looking at them curiously. “The kid’s watching us. You better move ahead before she starts analyzing our personality types or something.”

Her eyes light up. “You think she’d do it if I asked? I really wanna know.”

“Just go!”

Ann hurries to catch up to Sophia, and while she’s distracted, Ryuji gently rolls up sleeves—he had gotten nicked by Ante as he slid. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem; he had gotten thrown through walls, been hit by mini hurricanes, been blown up by a boat, and walked away from all that still swinging.

Yet lately, any tiny, fractional, miniscule injury is enough to shoot unbearable pain throughout his entire body. It’s as if he was back in Kamoshida’s Palace, where every punch thrown at him had been life or death.

Glancing down at his forearm, he sighs. The cut was gone, but he can’t keep asking Ann to heal him in secret every time.

“Skull?”

Hurriedly pulling down his sleeve, he glances up to see Akira standing in front of him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you,” he says casually, as if those words don’t mean the entire goddamn world to Ryuji. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “My bad. Let’s go.”

They clambered up the staircase, and Ryuji decides that all of that stuff—getting injured and having it hurt like hell—just isn’t too important.

That just means that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn't get hit, and he’s had plenty of experience dodging punches that were thrown at him before.

—

“Cheers!”

All of them raise their red plastic cups, clinking it against each other in a way that they see adults do all the time on TV. Apple juice and iced tea slosh as they gulp it down eagerly, excitement so prevalent that they can hardly taste the cheap, convenience store-esque quality of their drink.

“This isn’t too bad,” Makoto muses, leaning against the faux-leather seats of the RV. “Though it would probably taste better if it wasn’t room temperature.”

“Does it look like this place has a mini fridge?” Futaba says, legs swinging down from her top bunk. “That’s a good idea though. I should’ve bought mine from home. Can you imagine we’re halfway through a six hour road trip and you want iced coffee and boom! Two feet behind you is Futaba’s Ice Cold Cafe, one hundred yen per use.”

“I hope you’d be ready to sleep on it, because this place is cramped enough as is,” Akira slaps the wall a few times, the way a rancher would a sturdy horse. “We’re lucky with what we have.”

“I know that! Without this thing we never would have been able to conquer Natsume’s Jail.” She reaches down to muss Yusuke’s hair. “I’m sure Inari feels good about that.”

He smiles, hair sticking up in all directions. “Of course I feel satisfied. Though I understand his struggle, being able to stop a fellow artist into becoming a true monster is always something that will bring me joy. Justice will never stop feeling good.”

“Cheers to that!” Ann raises her drink. “And you know what? This wouldn’t have been possible had Ryuji not kicked some major ass in that Jail.”

The group whoops and hoots loudly, and Ryuji can’t help but scoff when Ann winks at him. “Aw guys, you’re making me blush. I’m fucking awesome, sure, but we’re all pretty amazing.”

Haru shakes her head. “She’s right, Ryuji-kun. WIthout you, defeating dragon Natsume would’ve been much more difficult.”

“Even I can admit that you’ve gotten much stronger, Skull.” Morgana leaps onto the table, licking up the bowl of apple juice that Haru had left him. It feels wrong to let an animal drink that, but he’d never say anything about it. “Have you been training?”

Ryuji shrugs. “Yeah, a little.”

“Ooo, look at Mr. Humble all of a sudden,” Futaba jeers.

“I’m always humble!”

Ann grimaces. “I don’t think so. Remember when you finally got Akira to go on a date with you—”

“How dare you. He was begging me to go on a date with him—”

“And you wouldn’t stop telling us about how you had nabbed the coolest guy in Tokyo—”

Ryuji nearly jumps over the booth to put a hand on her mouth. “Quit yammering, Takamaki, I’m begging you.” He feels something slimy on his hand, and pulls back quickly. “Ew, did you lick me?! That’s so effing gross.”

“You’re gross.”

He feels a hand on the small of his back, warm and familiar. “I don’t think you’re gross, Ryuji,” Akira says. “I think you’re very clean.”

A harmonic beep rings through the air. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sophia’s clear voice cuts in. “But Akira, you got an email.”

“Thanks Sophie.” He points to where his phone is perched on the windowsill, propped up so she can see them celebrate their victory. “Can you…?”

Ryuji wordlessly passes it to him as everyone breaks off into smaller conversations, chatter blending into each other until it sounds like the kind of white noise he would queue up when he’s desperate to get some studying done. Immediately, Akira begins scanning through his phone, gray eyes focused.

He props his head against his shoulder to read alongside him and makes a noise of interest. “You signed up for cram school?” he asks, surprised.

“I did,” he replies, thumbing through the details of his admission.

Ryuji stares at him. “But you’re so fucking smart. Why are you paying who knows what to learn shit you already know?”

“Because Tokyo U barely cracks a 30% admission rate, and chemistry is hell incarnate.” With one last few clicks, he sets his phone down with a wince. “Sure is expensive though. We might have to reform the heart of someone in the education committee.” When he continues to stare at him wordlessly, Akira turns to him. “Don’t worry, I’m still leeching off of the Thieves' money from last year, so it’s not too bad when you take into account my part-time back home.”

“No, that’s not—I’m just—” he shakes his head and forces himself to start over. “Since when did you decide on Tokyo University?”

It’s Akira's turn to look taken aback. “What do you mean? You’d never leave Tokyo, especially if it meant leaving your mom.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I’m making you choose between me and your hometown!” he exclaims, but he already knows in his heart what Akira’s choice is going to be. It’s stupidly obvious. For some reason, the longer this conversation goes on, the tighter his chest feels.

The feeling doubles when Akira’s eyes, always focused and always sharp, subdued at his words. “Are you really comparing yourself to that place? You know I’d choose you over anything.” He reaches forward and combs through Ryuji’s hair, hushed and gentle in a way that only Akira can manage. “I’m so excited to live life with you again.”

The white noise, so comfortable before, abruptly turns overwhelmingly loud—grating and unbearable and painful to be around. Ryuji stands abruptly, barely reacting to Futaba’s yelp when he backs into her.

“Hey! What gives?”

“I…” his eyes dart around, flinching when he accidentally makes eye contact with Akira, and again when he locks eyes with Ann.

The sudden silence from the group is somehow worse than the noise from before, and if the tightness in his chest gets any more painful, his lungs are gonna burst into a million pieces and he’s not gonna be able to pick it all up from the ground if everyone’s watching.

“Trash,” he blurts out.

“What?” Makoto blinks, glancing up from her map.

“This place is disgusting and it’s way too cluttered and it’s bad to leave such a big mess so I’m gonna—” Ryuji grabs the plastic bag filled with garbage, haphazardly tossing empty cans and plastic cups into it. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

Before they can question him, he’s already out of the RV, towing trash and leaving his friends behind him.

—

“What the fuck was that?!” Ryuji screams into the sky.

He was far enough from the trailer that he knew they couldn’t hear him even if they had strained their ears, and it was late enough into the night that even the tourists weren’t poking around to look at the shrines or the Great Masamune himself.

“Keep it a secret’, my ass! That was the second dumbest thing—no, the third dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. Do you know how high that threshold is, Sakamoto? High! Higher than you can see with your own two eyes! Higher than Yaldabaoth’s goddamn crane-sized spine!”

Swooping down, he grabs a fistful of pebbles and throws it as hard as he can. “You are so selfish! What happened to keeping ‘Kira happy, you effing asshole?” Relishing in how far it went, he takes another two more. “You are so annoying. You are—” he throws, the rocks landing with a little plink. “Insufferable. Stupid. Selfish. A fucking—” this time, he doesn’t even know where it lands. “Gah!”

Turning on his heel, he glares up at the statue and grits his teeth when he sees Masamune’s stoic expression. “Don’t give me that look—you’re dead. You ain’t got nothing to complain about. Everyone’s remembering you as the guy who saved Japan, or whatever. But guess what? You’re probably a loser. A dumb, stupid loser who convinced everyone that you’re good for something when you’re worth jack shit!”

Before he can stop himself, he takes the garbage bag full of cans, glass bottles, and crumpled chip bags and hurls it at Masamune. It hits the base of the statue, far below damaging the One-Eyed Dragon himself, but the glass cracks under the force of being thrown, tearing through the plastic and causing trash and shards to explode all over the steps. Ryuji’s chest is heaving as he stares down at what he’s done.

“Impressive.”

He whirls around at the voice behind him, stomach lurching straight to the ground when he sees who it was. “In his years of war, I doubt that anyone’s ever tried throwing waste in his direction in order to defeat him.”

“Yusuke,” he breathes, feeling his frustration draining away to make room for even more guilt, if that was even possible. Ryuji cannot possibly look any more of an asshole than he does right now—tearing his throat raw in a public space, surrounded by the garbage he had thrown at a national monument in front of a guy who clearly worships and respects art that’s old as hell. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I was just…” he hesitates. “Talking to myself.”

Yusuke hums, unconvinced, and carefully approaches the mess in front of him. Ryuji waves him off. “No, don’t. Broken glass is a bitch, especially the little pieces. If that gets in your skin, it’s game over. You’d have to go into the hospital for sure.” He grimaces. “Trust me. My dad used to throw beer bottles at our place like he was in a ball game, and that ain’t fun, I promise you that.”

“I see.” Turning around, Ryuji hoped that he was magically going to head back to the group and not mention this to anyone there, but instead Yusuke stopped in front of a water fountain. “You’re right. If you’re not careful, it could be very easy to hurt yourself when dealing with broken glass.” Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket in a way that only Yusuke can, he soaks it in water before crouching down at the shards glimmering under moonlight. “But if you use wet fabric to dab it on the shards itself—” he pats the concrete and flips the fabric over, revealing the moist and glistening pieces stuck on its side. “You can clean up the pieces with little to no danger.”

“Huh.” After a moment, he realizes that he’s making Yusuke do the dirty work for him. “Pass me that. Thanks for the tip, but I can take it from here. I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s totally my fault that the glass is here anyway.”

He doesn’t look up from his task, eyes focused and movement meticulous. “No need. If you’d like to help, you can start picking up the non-dangerous litter around us.”

Ryuji does as he’s told, wincing as he has to pick up sticky, pop-soaked wrappers with his bare hands but he doesn’t complain. Karmic retribution has never held back against him. “The glass thing,” he starts, squatting down and picking up empty cans and plastic utensils with curry remnants still stuck to them. “They teach you that in Kosei?”

“No, from one of Madarame’s past pupils actually.” Yusuke shifts over to dab at another glass-covered section, concrete looking clearer with every pat. “Sensei had a rather violent habit of hurling canvases at the wall if they do not meet his standards, and his actions had led to many of our more fragile belongings being shattered when he did.” His tone doesn’t change, but Ryuji can see his shoulders tighten. “At least it allowed me to move away from that house very quickly, considering I had very little to pack away.”

Ryuji opens his mouth to comfort him. Instead, he finds himself speaking in a low tone. “Glad that bastard is rotting in jail,” he resists the urge to spit on the ground. “Then afterwards, I hope he rots in hell, just to really cover all of our bases.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Yusuke. “Thank you,” he smiles, and all Ryuji can do is nod. There isn’t much you can say after that without making it weird. But how weirder can it possibly get when the two of you are off towing around someone’s perception of the world on a daily basis?

They continue to work in silence; the wind is gentle, but it’s enough to rustle the leaves and allow Ryuji to feel some relief from the summer heat. He’s picking up wet paper tissues, and it’s gross, but it’s nice to be doing something with his hands.

He’s just about done his part of the clean-up when he can’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

“No,” Yusuke answers without looking up. That’s another thing that Ryuji really appreciates about him—playing dumb has never been something that he’s done to get out of an awkward situation. To be fair though, Yusuke himself is an awkward situation.

“Why not?”

“Did you want me to?”

That question makes him pause, and Yusuke doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve always been the most vocal in the group, and while many a time it has been our downfall in terms of secrecy, I have always considered it one of your strong points. And if you, Sakamoto Ryuji, are indeed struggling with using your words,” Yusuke’s eyes turn to him. “Then it must be very difficult to talk about.”

A beat passes. “No,” Ryuji mutters. “I don’t want you to ask.”

“Then I won’t,” he says easily. “But I do have a question.”

“Lay it on me.”

Yusuke shuffles to crouch down next to him, and it’s kinda weird seeing someone as elegant as him pose like some kind of hoodlum. “Does Akira know about your struggle?”

His mind flashes back to the confused look back in the RV and he scratches his neck roughly. “I bet he does now.”

Yusuke leans back, shocked. “He doesn’t know?”

“I’m getting there! Don’t pressure me, man. You said it yourself, I’m fucking struggling.”

“Well, yes, I did say that, but it’s Akira,” he says the name almost reverently. “I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that something is askew.”

“I just said that, didn’t I? Goddamn, you and Ann are just two of the same peas in the same freaking pond, aren’t you?”

“It’s ‘pod’, Ryuji,” he corrects. “Ann is aware?”

“She—” Ugh, how does he explain that she thinks she knows, but really he had lied about what he told her? “She basically knows.” And because his fat mouth just keeps getting fatter, “She’s sort of part of the problem.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen and Ryuji hurries to cover up for his mistake. “She’s not a problem, it’s just that I didn’t explain…It’s really my fault, and how I deal with internal shit, you know what I’m saying? And Ann’s just kind of in the crossfire, so what ended up happening is when I talk to her about what I’m feeling, I end up just feeling worse.” He winces. First he lies to her and now he’s shit-talking her? “I did not say that. What I really mean is that, uh, feelings...and actions...are complicated,” he finishes weakly.

“I see,” he says finally.

It seems that even Yusuke has a threshold for uncomfortable moments, because he rises to his feet. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. Thanks for the glass trick.”

“No need to mention it. It’s much easier to clean up a mess when you have someone helping you.” He points vaguely behind himself, “Would you like to head back together? I’m sure by now the festivities are winding down, and the trash you were so keen on disposing of has definitely been thrown away.”

Ryuji blanches. It grossed him out that he forgot he was holding an armful of garbage in his hand. “You go ahead. I just need to,” he rocks his arms, almost cradling the wet garbage. “Throw this out.”

“Very well. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”

He waves at him, and Ryuji wiggles in response (unless he wants it all hitting the ground and restarting that whole process again, which, no thanks.) After dumping it all into a nearby trash can, the process of which lasts several minutes since he still had to sort out the recycling, he feels a buzz in his pocket.

KA: come back when you can KA: i miss you

He takes a shaky breath.

SR: on my way

#p5 #p5s #ryuji sakamoto #akiryu #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #akira kurusu #pegoryu #happy birthday ryuji this ones for you

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willadisastercry · 3 years

Text

Keith relapsing and not being able to stop once he starts... pt 2

(((( Once again: please, please, please read the trigger warnings and proceed with caution before reading this. I vividly describe Keith’s internal struggle after he relapses... if anything even remotely regarding self harming or someone discovering a person who has is sensitive to you I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU DONT READ ))))

tw: in depth depiction of acting on self harm ideations/urges, scars, relapsing, becoming ill from blood loss, someone discovering a person after they relapse, rationalizing their self harm because the alternative is suicide, contradicting oneself and later very much deciding they would rather be unalived, panic attack symptoms, reopening a wound, allusion to surgery (stitches)

Keith is still very out of it after having a full fledged panic attack and the last thing he wants is to invite another spectator into the mix to watch him devolve further. So Shiro agrees to do something he hasn’t had to do in a very long time... courtesy of his battlefield medicine training.

Also again... YES klance and NO klance. You can interpret it however but their questioningly less and less ‘no homo’ behavior uh certainly ramps up and I suggest that they’ve had certain discussions/interactions before... definitely still not the main focus of this fic but there for context bc it just happened that way.

Part 1 / Part 2

The tension in the air was palpable as it hung on all of them. Lance watched Shiro’s entire body visibly relax, the grimace on his face the only tell that he was working through something in his mind, remembering something unpleasant.

Keith’s wimper pulled both boys back after a minute of terrible silence.

Several of the hardest cuts to close had broken free of the glue that held them and were gushing steadily. Keith was paling by the minute as he continued to breathe rapidly and tremble as if he was cold despite the sweat on his forehead.

He just wanted this to be over. To finally be asleep where at least then he could pretend that it had never actually happened and it was just a horrible dream.

Without saying anything more Shiro pressed the bandage back to his side and moved Lance’s hand to hold pressure there while he stood up and scanned the room, his eyes landing on Keith’s towel. It was hardly even damp then with how much time had passed since Keith had finished his shower.

“Keith, I know you’re not going to want me to,” he started with his jaw set as he pulled Keith towards him for a moment to lay the towel beneath him despite his meager protests.

“...but I have to tell Coran so that he can—“

He stopped when Keith let out a desperate whine as he released his hand from his mouth to tug on Shiro’s arm, his fingers digging in like he was trying to anchor them to something so he didn’t drift away as his chest started working double time.

“No. You can’t! You’re n-not t-tell-telling him.”

“Keith, I know that this is—“

“No, you dont,” Keith rasped, “you d-don’t know anything and you c-can-can’t tell Coran.”

The fear in his wide eyes was enough to make Lance want to cry for the umpteenth time that night, his chest hitching painfully as he pleaded with Shiro, getting himself more worked up as he did.

“Calm down, buddy. You know how this works. You know we have to get you fixed up.”

He shook his head back and forth as Shiro tried to rationalize with him.

“Keith,” he paused with a lengthy sigh because the last thing he wanted was to do something that Keith didn’t want him to do.

“Keith it’s bad. You need stitches, we have to.”

His purple saucers met Shiro’s grey pinpoints for a long moment, fear and desperation glistening in Keith’s and making Shiro want to pull him up into a bone crushing embrace.

“Then y-you do it...” he all but whispered through a heave as he tried to take in enough air to satisfy the ache in his chest so he could talk.

“Ke—“

“You’ve d-done-done i-it-it before Sh-Sh-Shi—fuck. P-please, j-j-ju-just-just-j—“

“Okay,” Shiro agreed, his voice pitching higher as he tried to assuage the budding panic evident in Keith’s anguished expression and worsening trembling.

“Hey, it’s okay. I will. Shhh, I will.”

He repeated the words religiously after Keith began to choke on his own, his face reeling with frustration when the full body trembling made him unable to get a proper sentence out and the effort of trying sent him spiraling further.

Shiro carded his hand through Keith’s still damp hair as his hands rose back up to his face, his feet kicking against the bed as the terrible dropping feeling worked its way through his stomach, gasping as it did. Lance watched in horror as Shiro tried to comfort him but any point of contact made Keith struggle harder.

He absolutely hated being so vulnerable, so reliant on others in such a fragile state. He knew he sorely needed the affection but his body instinctively cringed away from their touches, at war with itself as his mind lied to him, told him he was pathetic for needing such a thing. Another part wanting to melt into even the faintest brush against his shuddering body. All while feeling the consequences of losing a pretty descent amount of blood, the loss fogging his mind to a point that made it immeasurably harder to not succumb to panic, especially since he was still bleeding.

It was truly the perfect storm and he hated every second of it.

His lungs felt like they were being dripped dry of every ounce of oxygen in them as the phantom sensation of spinning returned and disordered his heaving breaths further as he fought the urge to vomit. The bone deep exhaustion seemed to be rather helpful then, the physical symptoms of his anxiety fizzling out in minutes as he quite literally just lacked the faculties to accommodate them.

“I’m right here, Keith,” Shiro assured when his grip on his arm tightened and then wavered as he began to sink back into the mattress, his hands settling restlessly on his chest as they shook.

“That’s it, you’re alright.”

Shiro griped his shoulder securely now, the metal of his prosthetic arm weighing with an oddly pleasant pressure on Keith as his whole body shook still.

Closing his eyes seemed a tad less dangerous once he could breathe somewhat regularly again and the intense dizziness had somewhat dissipated. They were also swollen like hell and heavy from all the crying so shutting them became less of an active choice then as well.

Lance’s hand moved to his leg after a beat, just to peek and make sure that those wounds hadn’t met a similar fate. He watched as Shiro’s face dropped when he saw the second wrapping, swallowing thickly and shifting where he sat on the edge of the bed to speak to Lance.

“Will you get him to eat something while I go grab a few things?”

He nodded and made his way to the forgotten tray of snacks he’d nabbed as Shiro took off for supplies. The sobbing had died down after the climax of his panic did but the tears didn’t seem to ever dry up, evident from the sniffling every few minutes as he tried to clear his airways.

“Hey,” Lance nudged his arm where it had moved to cover his blotchy face again, “why don’t you sit up a little, gotta eat something...”

He didn’t even try, just shook his head.

“N-nauseous,” he stuttered, the shaking impossibly infuriating as he tried to relax enough to do anything other than cry.

“Hmmm, well you could also have juice, I can water it down a little. That sound doable?”

He just sighed and Lance took his indifference as a ‘whatever’ and went ahead anyway, nudging him again when he had a modified juice pouch for him.

“You don’t have to sit up all the way, there’s a straw,” Lance noted when Keith tried to raise himself up on shaking arms before they gave out. He grunted defeatedly and tried to scooch back on bent elbows and sit up that way but found he didn’t have the core strength then to do that either.

“Here, what if I...” Lance mused with a shy smile as he moved to pull Keith up enough to slide in behind him, bringing the pouch up to his lips where his now propped up head rested securely in the crook of his arm, still racked by tremors but seemingly more at ease with the contact.

“That better?”

Keith didn’t answer, just sucked on the straw of the pouch like he was dying of dehydration. By the time he’d finished the pouch Shiro was walking through the automatic door with a whoosh that startled Keith, his breathing picking back up as he nestled his head further into Lance’s arm like he was trying to hide under it.

“He finished some juice,” Lance stated proudly as Shiro laid out the haul of medical supplies he brought back.

“That’s good, something solid would be better though. Hm, how bout the bread?” Shiro asked, walking back over to the tray and picking up a roll from the batch Hunk had made with a type of alien wheat they’d found.

Keith grumbled but took it from Shiro’s outstretched hand because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to win that debate, but more because he knew what was coming next and he wanted that more than anything.

“What?! You just give in for Shiro but with me it’s like pulling teeth? I’m offended, mullet. Deeply offended,” Lance scoffed and Keith made a noise as he bit into the bread begrudgingly.

“It’s not personal, he just knows not to be stubborn unless he wants to be awake while I stitch him up.”

Lance’s heart sunk impossibly further into his chest because Shiro had fully found him like that before... and done this exact thing after. This wasn’t new to either of them.

God he wanted to cry too.

Once Keith had made a sizeable dent in the roll from the dinner he’d missed Shiro handed him three pills of which Lance assumed were some variant of a sleep aid that took him a while to swallow with how choppy he was breathing still. The high sort of buzz had never really gone away and only worsened when his anxiety took over, leaving him both feeling floaty and trapped in a constant state of shaking.

Lance tried to comfort him now that he seemed more receptive to being touched, tracing light circles on the shoulder not tucked against him and leaving his other hand out where he could reach it in case he needed something to squeeze.

In the time being Shiro had set up a sterile tray for what looked like a literal fish hook and a whole bunch of gauze. Oh, jeez. Lance wasn’t sure he could stomach watching and tried to manifest being able to just hold Keith in his arms while Shiro worked, ya know for moral support. For Keith obviously.

“How ya doing? Tired yet?” Shiro inquired as he continued to ready the tray, fiddling with bottles of medicine similar to what Lance had used before.

“Mhmm, getting... sleepy,” he slurred, his trembling dying down a bit as the medicine helped his body relax.

“Good,” Shiro let out a hollow laugh at the way he sounded like a kid again, “Lance will you let me know when he’s out?”

The altean medicine was working quickly, aided by the fact that he was already utterly spent and leaving his eyes fluttering as his breathing evened out. He didn’t want to fall asleep still worked up or he’d probably be restless, maybe even come to and be more disoriented than before. So he dragged out the relief of slowly being pulled to sleep by the flick of Lance’s fingers on his arm, forcing his eyes to remain open as long as he could manage.

“Yep, shouldn’t be long,” Lance noted when Keith let out a hissing yawn and turned his face towards Lance’s chest, his cheek resting against the squishiest part he could find and making Lance stifle a gasp.

Keith wasn’t known for being cuddly and the gesture, though not really a conscious one, made Lance’s stomach flutter. He wasn’t able to dwell on it long though because Shiro was addressing him again.

“Can you pinch his arm...?”

Lance obliged and Keith didn’t make a sound.

“Perfect, okay, you won’t get squeamish will you?”

“Uh... glue is a bit different than a needle but even that sort of freaked me out.”

“Alright then, you can clean and dissolve what opened up while I handle what’s already free,” Shiro determined as he ushered the familiar supplies closer to Lance.

He took up the needle which was already threaded and sighed heavily before pulling Keith’s desk chair flush up against the bed.

“Help me get him more on his side.”

They managed to by Lance pulling him by the shoulders and more onto his lap as Shiro pushed.

Shiro breathed deeply then, something in his eyes flickering as he removed the soaked through bandage from the younger boy’s hip. His entire side coated again, the skin visibly raised and puffy.

Lance took up the wound wash and showed it to Shiro who nodded, bringing the towel up to catch the excess liquid as he poured. Once he’d sopped up what had bled again Shiro started with the widest gash, the hardened glue was easy to pull off with how horribly it had been secured over such a large area. Lance looked elsewhere, focusing on removing the glue from the other reopened wounds.

Shiro operated like a robot after that, known quite literally for a precise hand but what happened next took that generalization to a whole other level. His fingers moved swiftly, tying off stitches almost faster than Lance could wash out the gashes but definitely quicker than he could remove the blue tinted glaze. He had to scrub and scrape at the substance from the open wounds, the bloody mess they’d become making the task harder than it ought to have been.

In actuality only a few had reopened, but they were also the deepest. Some of them took upwards of five stitches, others two or three. The proximity of them to each other, especially to ones that were still glued, made it difficult for Shiro to figure out where to place the needle.

They were done after ten or so minutes but when Shiro sat back to analyze his work, he frowned.

“What’s up?” Lance questioned dubiously.

Shiro didn’t answer, just brought his hand down to examine the glue that was barely holding about a dozen more wounds together. They’d grown darker, the amount of red beneath the generous amount of blue visibly greater than the lesser wounds as more blood gathered and threatened to burst out as well.

“Some of these look like they’re about to go too, they haven’t clotted. I don’t think they’d heal right if I don’t stitch them up, they’d leave worse, uh—worse scars.”

Lance nodded transfixedly, not sure if his heart could take hearing more things like that, more direct acknowledgments of how one of his best friends had hurt himself so badly... how it hadn’t been the first time... how he couldn’t make sure it was the last if even Shiro had failed to.

“-nce. Lance, hey, don’t let me lose you now. I need you to work on dissolving the rest of the glue,” Shiro said, his tone gentle again as he brought Lance back from the depths of his weary mind.

“Right,” he affirmed more for himself as he brought the dissolving liquid back down while Shiro rethreaded his needle.

Opening a just about to burst wound was admittedly a lot harder on Lance’s stomach than freeing one that had already. There was so much more blood because when he was done with one side it’d spring open and pool immediately as he fought to dissolve the rest before it spilled out and got everywhere.

Both of them were coated then, the only saving grace that kept Lance’s nerves at bay was Shiro having the forethought to have them both wear gloves, but that just made it seem like a literal operation. And with the amount of black threading Keith back together it was seeming more like one each horrible minute it droned on.

Shiro had lost his vest and jacket somewhere around the third time he had to rethread his needle, Lance’s discarded too after some time, both of them uncomfortably warm as they poured over stitching Keith back together.

Oh, oh god.

That did it for him.

Lance huffed shakily and turned his head away as he nearly lost it again over how much he wished he could do more than just help heal his wounds, he wanted to mend every one of his broken pieces, put the parts of him back together that you couldn’t see.

He couldn’t stand the thought of slapping a bandage on what had happened and ever going about normally again.

“Lance...”

Shiro looked at him with sorry eyes, wanting to hug him as he blinked back tears but Keith was very much preventing that from being possible.

“I’m okay, sorry—it’s just a lot.”

“I know. We’re almost done if that helps, just need to finish up on this one and then I want to take a quick look at his leg,” Shiro offered as he got back to the gash that was almost closed.

“It wasn’t as bad, only a few were deep,” Lance noted, his eyes glossy as they stared at Shiro’s busy hands, not even registering the way they pulled on Keith’s skin as they tied off the last knot.

Shiro nodded, sneaking a worried glance over at Lance who didn’t meet his gaze as he finished applying an ungodly amount of tape over top the gauze he’d put on the area. He then manhandled Keith’s leg so he could get at his thigh.

Lance looked down at his arms. There wasn’t much blue of the medical gloves on his hands showing, blood smeared past even that and up his arms. He hurriedly yanked at them, peeling one off within the other and folding the outer one over itself.

“Just toss it, I’ll clean this all up later.”

Shiro suggested noticing how dangerously close Lance was to unraveling and hoping to delay it until he could actually help.

He was right though, only a handful required stitches and half as many as the ones on his hip had needed at that. Shiro was done in record time, taking over Lance’s job of removing the glue and cleaning up the mess that followed, finishing by wrapping a thicker bandage around his leg and taping it in place.

When Shiro finally sat back and started to clean up he was dimly aware that Lance was silently crying and had scooted further down the bed to hold Keith more securely in his arms. Though he was definitely out he had never fully stopped shaking, but now it seemed more like a nervous system response to the nowhere near healthy amount of blood he’d lost. Lance moved his hands up and down his arm in attempt to soothe him anyway.

Shiro brought the throw blanket at the foot of the bed over the two of them after he’d removed all of the trashed medical supplies from it. Lance’s eyes had fluttered shut but were open now.

“He shouldn’t be up anytime soon but you look wiped, figured you’d want to stay...”

He nodded absently, eyes bleary but understanding as Shiro moved about the room for a little before sitting down at the foot of the bed.

“I’ll handle talking to him about all this tomorrow but in the case that he isn’t entirely dead to the world when the morning drill alarm goes off, tell him that he is not only excused but barred from training and piloting Red until his stitches are out.”

Lance just nodded again and yawned, pulling the blanket over the rest of his upper body.

“And Lance... “

He eyed Lance with a sort of fondness then.

“I know how fucked up tonight was, it couldn’t have been easy. You didn’t have to help him, you could’ve just gotten me, but you did. And I don’t know what kind of headspace he’ll be in when he wakes up but I do know he’ll be grateful you were there for him... even if he has a funny way of showing it.”

The lump in Lance’s throat bobbed threateningly, his eyes stinging again as he whispered a meak ‘thanks’ as Shiro stood up and leaned closer to ruffle his perfect hair before he turned to leave, shutting the lights off before he did.

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yodamn · 4 years

Text

Through the Glass

Thire x Reader

Thire tells his kids how he met their mom! Inspired by the ending of We Bought A Zoo.

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

"Daddy?"

"Hm?" Thire hummed looking up from the bowl he was drying. He saw his little girl sitting at the island across from him. Curls pulled into two pigtails and his wife's big eyes staring at him much too seriously for a five year old.

"How did you meet Mommy?"

He stopped at that, surprised at the question. But Lilla was always curious about everything, always asking questions. She wants to know everything, and how everything works. Thire doesn't think her 'why?' phase will ever stop. He thinks somehow she short circuited Fox with all her questions when he came to babysit once. His curious little girl.

"You and all our uncles always tell stories about the war and how it ended but how did you meet Mommy?" Lilla continued.

Then Owet, Thire's eight year old son, bouncing over and rested his arms and head on the granite counter.

"Yeah Dad! I wanna know how you met Mom! Did you save her in battle like one of the pretty senators in the stories you read us!" The boy questioned and Lilla gasped.

"Was she? Was Mommy a senator?"

Thire laughed as his two kids began to create wild scenarios about how their parents met. He was the knight in shining white armor who saved her from a wicked gundark, he met her as the captain of pirates, and other scenarios.

"I'm afraid its not that exciting" he chuckled while finishing drying off dishes. He had Owet put away the cutlery for him while he placed pots and pans in their place in the cubboard.

"Well then how did you meet!"

Thire stopped and watched his two kids carefully. Owet had moved to sit in the chair next to Lilla. Even still it shocked Thire how much Owet looked like him and all his vod at eight. He had been terrified that his kids would have the advanced aging and wouldn't get to be kids for very long. He had begged any doctor he could to run test after test just to make 100% sure.

Thire clicked his tongue and grinned at his kids "Go get your shoes and coats and Ill show ya".

Giggles and peals of laughter erupt from the kids and they scramble to get ready. Thire shakes his head laughing before putting the rest of the dishes away and going to get himself ready.

"Come on Daddy come on!" Lila bounced and tugged on Thire's arm as he tied up his shoes and pulled on a jacket. He grabbed the keys to the speeder and settled both his kids in their seats, making sure they were both snug.

A short trip later brought them to an upper level Corosaunt diner. It was old and worn but always a good eat. Thire got his kids out of the speeder and they stood outside one of the large windows. Thire kneeled down,sat Lilla on his knee and pulled Owet close to keep him warm. He did his best to tuck his kids into his own jacket to keep them warmer.

"This is where I met her" Lilla and Owet gasped and wiggled in Thires arms begining their barrage of questions, "Hold on, hold on I have to tell the story!" He laughed and rubbed their arms to keep them warm. Despite Corosaunt being a mostly city planet it still got frigid at times.

"It was right after the war had ended, literally 10 mins had past. Me and all your uncles were all still on duty, I was on patrol when I heard the news" He explained, both pairs of eyes wide open with curiosity. The two of them silent and eagerly waiting for the story. Thire prided himself on being one of the best story tellers.

"At first...I was scared" Lilla gasped.

"Daddy! You? You never get scared! You always chase the bad guys away! And the monsters under my bed!" The little girl protested. Her Daddy was the bravest hero ever! He was never afraid. Owet nodded in agreement.

"Yes I do chase them away! But sometimes even the bravest heros get scared" Thire laughed, squeezing his little girl close, she then laid her head on his shoulder and looked up at him.

"So there I was, on a speeder at the end of the war, the war that created me and all your uncles. And I was scared, I didn't know what was gonna happen next. Before the war ended I knew what my purpose was. But then I realized that since the end had come, I could go get things I had never been able to reach before" Thire explained, "And I remembered this girl..."

"Mommy! Its Mommy right!?"

"Shush Lilla! He's telling a story!" Owet scolded. Thire laughed and quieted them.

"I remembered the girl who worked at this very diner" he explained, pointing up at the building, "I fell head over heels the first time I saw her, and I made sure to always come by to see how she was. But I never had the guts to talk to her, I had a duty to the Republic. But for the three years I was on guard, Id always come past here to see her."

"So what did you do?" Thire grinned at his boy.

"After I had heard about the war I came straight here, and I saw her. Right in this window" he whispered. He looked up and it was almost like he was replaying the memory as it happened.

A younger Thire standing outside of a diner, staring at a young waitress. He shook his head and looked at the chronometer on his gauntlet.

"Okay, 20 seconds of insane courage" He whispered to himself. And he grasped the metal handle.

"I walked in the door and there she was, she was talking to a customer so she hadn't seen me" Thire explained, walking the children through his movements.

The young Thire fumbles to take off his helmet and props it up on his hip.

"I was so nervous, I was fidgeting and twitching and I, believe it or not. Your suave dad dropped his helmet in front of this unbelievably gorgeous girl" the kids giggled at the idea. Thire tickling and teasing them as he went on.

Thire quickly stoops to pick up his helmet and when he stands he's staring right into your eyes. And they were so stunning, and it wasn't the color or shape that made them so amazing. It was the emotion that she held in them. Her eyes, they felt like home. He was just so awestruck by actually seeing her, standing right in front of him. Not just a glace while he rides a speeder past or a longing stare if he saw her out and about with friends. She was really here, right in front of him. Stained apron tied around her waist, hair tied back and away from her face. Her smiled at him so...genuinely. And after a few minutes he realized he had to say something because he was just staring.

"What did you say Daddy?"

"I said..."

Thire adjusts the collar of his blacks and gulps before returning his eyes to yours. Heart pounding so loud in his chest, he hoped and prayed you couldnt hear how it was banging against his ribcage. If any of the Guard were called because Thire had a heart attack because of a girl, he'd never hear the end of it. He felt a bead of cold sweat slide down his temple. He's got 15 seconds left.

"You are the most breathtaking women that I have ever seen..." Thire trailed off, he fidgeted and ran his thumb over the lip of his helmet "I have been dreaming of talking to you, but I've never had the courage to before. And I was wondering..."

He stopped, heart rattling against his ribcage. Deep breaths, don't rush it out.

"I was wondering if there was even a shred of a chance that a beautiful girl like you, would ever go on a date with a guy like me?"

Lilla tugged on Thires had again to bring him down to her level. Her face beaming at the story with her mother's smile. Owet squeezed his hand and waited patiently, watching his dads reaction.

"What happened next!"

Thire chuckled and looked at Lilla, he cupped her face and ran his thumb across her cheek. He turned to Owet to ruffle his hair.

"She said-"

"I said yes"

The trio turned to see the beautiful woman in question behind them, leaning on a pillar. Still as beautiful as all those years ago when Thire first saw you.

"Mommy!"

"Mom!"

Both kids squealed and ran to give you hugs. You scooped up Lila and pressed a kiss to Owet's head. Thire then comes and steals a kiss.

"And the rest is history" Thire finishes his story. The two of you just watched each other for a while, a loving gaze. You smiled at Thire before bouncing Lilla in your arms.

"You guys came all the way to my Dad's diner to hear that story?" You questioned, tickling Owet lightly.

"Best way to learn something is to see it, why dont we grab dinner here?" Thire asked before leading you to your booth. The booth where the two of you shared your first kiss. Where Thire met your parents. And where he proposed to you, on a cold and rainy night. He had wanted that day to be perfectly romantic, but the weather disagreed. So you settled for eating at your Dad's diner after it had closed. Dancing in the light of a datapad playing soft music before Thire got down on one knee and made you the happiest woman alive.

The two of you sat in the round plastic covered seating, Lila and Owet chatting happily.

"They're amazing" Thire hummed, slinging a arm around your shoulder and sinking down into the seat. He smiled as the kids made people out of straw wrappers and the forks on the table. They made silly voices and pretended to recreate one of their fathers war stories of him and his brothers. Lilla and Owet leaning across the table to play together.

"They really are arent they?" You smile leaning into Thire's embrace, you sweetly kiss his cheek before looking at him again.

"Guess its a good thing we're having another" you grin, and then laugh at Thire's bug eyed reaction. Thire tugged you in for a deeper kiss, mutter sweet nothings into it.

Yeah, this family is amazing.

#clone wars #star wars #clone troopers #the clone wars #clone trooper x reader #commander thire #commander thire x reader #corosaunt gaurd

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langstforthesoul · 3 years

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Klangst

Not What I Meant by: Dodie Clark

TW: Intrusive thoughts, Langst, Klangst, and generally just sad-

*Lance was having a hard time adjusting after Keith came back with his mom, the others brushing him off to go get Allura away from the treacherous Galra Prince. He knew this was far more important than a simple ‘Hello’ from the now apparently older and very much taller blade member. He had this bitter feeling pooling at the bottom of his stomach as he watched everyone rush out of the ship bay to try and contact the princess. ‘Why am I feeling like this?’ He felt the rage and bitterness slowly boil up but he shoved it back down, pushing it aside to deal with it later. He knew that wasn’t wise, but what else was he supposed to do? He had to help with their Lotor situation, despite knowing he wouldn’t be much help.

Skipping forward to after Lotor escaped, everyone had gone their separate ways. Lance wandered around the halls of the castle, lost in his own thoughts, speaking to the stale air as he went.*

Lance: *He had his arms crossed over his chest, the bitterness and anger slowly boiling backup from earlier now that he was alone (or so he thought)* Let’s find out just how far I’ll go, to look like someone you should know.. *he continued on, knowing he needed to get what he was feeling off his chest but not knowing how. ‘Maybe training?’ He thought as he made his way to the direction of the said room.* Maybe I’d sound a little better *he absent mindedly ran his hand over the smooth and very well taken care of skin on his face.* Maybe I’d look more sweet?

*The brunette had walked all the way to the training room only to hear the clashing of a sword against metal. He peeked inside to see Keith and Shiro training together, moving in what could only be described as a dangerous dance of violence. He watched in slight awe before turning to leave, only to pause when he felt the bitterness make its way into his thoughts.*

Lance: *‘Keith just has to always be number 1 huh? No wonder Shiro prefers to train with him.’ His mind spoke with a tone that sent shivers down his spine.* His mind has already been made up, he saw my number and my number is just never good enough. *he let out a soft but sad chuckle as he walked away from the training room door. He turned on his heel to make his way toward the kitchen, his stomach rumbling in agreement of the idea of a snack.* I’ll fight a little better *He felt a small smile tug on his lips.* If I’m willing to compete.

*Keith paused in his movements, hearing the tapping of shoes walking away from the room He and Shiro had been in for the past few hours. He looked at the door for a brief moment, confusion crossing his features. Shiro, ever the concerned father figure, got out of his fighting stance and looked in the direction that Keith was looking.*

Shiro: Keith? *He gently nudged the dazed boy, his brows furrowed ever so slightly in concern.* You ok?

Keith: *He looked over at Shiro then back at the door, blinking for a second.* I could have sworn I heard Lance outside the door… *He rumbled, shaking off the bad feeling he felt. He jumped when he felt the cold metal hand of Shiro’s prosthetic arm touching his shoulder.*

Shiro: Maybe go check and see if he’s alright? I’m sure you could use a break anyways. *He watched for a reaction from the ravenette, knowing the response he was about to get all too well.*

Keith: *He shook his head and nudged Shiro’s hand off lightly.* I’ll do it if I have too, maybe find an Inbetween..

Shiro: *He let out a chuckle and gave Keith a teasing look, slightly shoving the younger shoulder.* Not what I meant when I said, maybe just see if he wants to be seen?

Keith: *He simply rolled his eyes, walking over to the area he set his things aside to and swiped his towel.* I don’t get what you mean but I’ll go check on him. *he wiped the sweat from his brow and walked out of the training room, leaving a chuckling Shiro in his wake.*

*Lance had made it to the kitchen without bumping into anyone, only wanting to grab a quick snack and going to the observation deck where he could drown in his thoughts. He heard humming as soon as he entered, seeing his best friend whisking away as some alien ingredient they got from their last supply pick up. He gave Hunk a smile before grabbing what he needed and leaving without saying a word. Hunk was confused but only shrugged it off, thinking it was only to get back to whatever Lance was doing before.

Lance was back in the halls once more, feeling the chill of the crisp air as it shifted to the night cycle. His mind slowly began to wonder off again, consuming the silence with the loud shouting of his thoughts.*

Lance: *He let out a shaky sigh, running a hand through his already mused hair. ‘Y’know that He only cares about Pidge and their inventions now.. You shouldn’t bother him. Stay on the right path, McClain.’ His mind shouted at him.* How am I meant to stay on track? When each hand I shake will pull me back? *He gripped his hair, trying to keep his breathing steady as his vision blurred. ‘You’re not working hard Enough! You HAVE TO TRY HARDER!’ The thoughts rang louder each time, causing a sharp pang to run through his brain.* Oh, I guess I’ll work a little.. maybe walk a little less.. *When he finally arrived at the observation deck, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Though that hadn’t lasted long, more intrusive thoughts, one more worse than the one before. He tried to force a smile, tell himself that he’s good enough and that he’ll always be good enough but…* And in the end I feel proud! I grit my teeth, and follow that DAMN crowd… *the smile he forced slowly began to crumble.. ‘You aren’t going to make it back home, this war is going to take you away forever!’ That one made him flinch, tears welling up in his eyes as he forcefully wiped them away.* Will I have grow a little empire or made another fucking mess? *That drew out a sad chuckle from the Cuban, a tear slowly slipping down his freckled cheek. ‘You should just leave McClain! Nobody needs you here so why stay?! YOU’RE REPLACEABLE!!’* I’ll do it if I have to…

*Something Lance hadn’t realized was that Keith, his supposed rival to close friend to crush, was listening outside the door. The ravenettes eyes were wide with shock, the feeling of dread cording through him as he listened to everything Lance said.*

Keith: *he placed a hand over his mouth, trying to steady his breathing while staying as quiet as possible. ‘How long has Lance felt like this? Did he really..?’ His mind was racing with one question after the next, resisting the urge to burst in to confront the former blue paladin, to try and figure where all this came from and how it started..*

*Lance slid down to the floor, his knees giving way underneath him as he held in a sob that rose from his throat. He didn’t want to make a sound in fear that someone would hear and feel that they had to come and check. He didn’t want to be a bother any more than he felt that he was. The two boys, one unaware of the others presence, stayed silent for a few moments until the Cuban continued.*

Lance: *His voice came out thick, tears seeping from his eyes as he stared at the stars with blurry eyes and a shaky smile.* Hoping for an Inbetween… *’You shouldn’t draw attention to yourself, don’t make the others worry about you. They already have too much to deal with.’ He let out another shaky breath and pulled his knees to his chest.* Not what I meant when I said that I wanted to be… *A soft sob escaped his trembling and bitten beyond belief lips, he shook with each sob that escaped after the first, finally letting go. He lowered his head and murmured under his breath.*...seen.

Keith: *’I can’t just keep standing here! Lance needs comfort!’ His emotions were getting the better of his rationality, having a war going on in his mind. ‘What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if I make things worse for him?!’ He shook his head, as if to shake away the thought. ‘It doesn’t matter, he needs someone!’ The next words he muttered under his breath..* I’ll do what I have to.

Lance: *He tried his best to calm down, still not noticing a certain mullet head about to enter. He ruffled his hair and gave a wet smile to the stars.* I’ll keep it to myself..

Keith: *He finally made a decision, turning on his heel and storming into the room with a fierce determination that he only showed when he was about to go on a mission.* This is the Inbetween.

Lance: *The male jumped, whirling around at the source of the new voice, surprised to see a very fierce looking keith quickly approaching him.* K-keith? How- W-when- H-how long have you been listening?! *He yelped, suddenly in Keith’s arms as the ladder held him in a tight vice like hug. ‘I must have seen that look somewhere before-‘ his thoughts were interrupted when Keith suddenly spoke after a brief pause.*

Keith: *He held the Cuban as tight as he could without hurting the other, burying his face into the others neck.* I finally know what you meant when you said you want to be… *he inhaled a shaky breath and pulled away to face Lance.*

Lance: *He could watch in awe, some tears still falling but Keith kissed them away as soon as they did.*

Keith: *he gave Lance a sad smile and cupped the others cheek with his, sure to be, rough hands.* ...Seen..

Authors Note:

Uhhmmm Hi? I hope whoever reads this enjoys! I’m considering on writing a part two to this, but I dont really know what song to do.. That’s where you guys hopefully come in! Feel free to drop some song recommendations in the comments and I’ll go through and choose one! Also feel free to comment any notes or Mistakes you see, I would really love a second opinion on this writing! Anyways, I hope you guys have a good day/morning/evening/night! And Stay safe out there!!

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idjitlili · 4 years

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Okay hear me out

Fili x modern!reader

Summary: imagine convincing fili to let you do his hair.

word count:3894 longest fic so far

a/n its my birthday tomorrow aka the 14th of july

You had been somehow transported into Tolkien's universe, at the time of hobbit, landing infront of Gandalf. The fall hurt your bottom, you had groaned and looked up to see Gandalf looking at you in shock. However he had decided you would accompany him to Bilbos house. You didn't have a choice you didn't know where you bloody were! Gandalf has seen pretty nice, he said he would help you, but didn't understand how on middle earth you had ended up in a different world.

At this point Gandalf had already been at bilbos house and left a mark on the door, so it was quite dark when you both arrived. When you had reached your destination , dwarves , lots had stood infront of the door pushing against eachother to get inside. You stood staring at the dwarves as the door was pulled open harshly ;by an annoyed hobbit.

stumbing down on each other with grunts and groans of frustrations ,plus pain. They evently all got up slowly ,your patience was low not as low as the hobbit who muttered 'Gandalf' ,before rushing further into the hole. Bilbo had realised that Gandalf was up to something sighing in defeat as Bombur scoffed down his expensive cheese.You felt bad for the dude these dudes were trashing his den and eating his food, you didnt really like sharing your food ,so you could imagine the pain Bilbo felt. Bilbo didnt even glance at you next to Gandalf he was too busy preventing his hole collasping inwards.

You and Gandalf had walked into the hobbit hole ,swiftly once the dwarves had. The warm air hitting your chilly cheeks,the warm light making your eyes blur for a spilt second ,the burst of loud laughter, clanking of plates and such filled your ear drums. You were going to have a huge headache by the end of the night.

You had hid behind Gandalf ,like a child would behind their mothers when talking to strangers ,as he led you to the dinning room. You were nervous there was no doubt about that ,you didnt want to be refused by this horin you had heard about,but Gandalf told you not worry. Apparently Thorin wasnt even here yet,a muscular dwarf told Gandalf ,he had glanced at you suspiciously before going back to getting ale.

Gandalf had asked a brunette dwarf to find you a seat and some food ,pulling you out from behind him. The dwarf had sent you a wide smile, lifting your hand pressing a kiss to you knuckles,doing a bow sorta thing. "Kili,at your service." his gesture had made you blush,no one had ever done something like that before.

"uh, y/n at yours." you had spoke quietly to dwarf,who smiled again still gasping your hand tugging you to a seat next to a blond dwarf. After he let go of your hand, you had sat ,while the brunette dwarf sat down beside you, there wasnt a lot of room so you were shoulder to both dwarves. The blond one had turnt to you eyeing you,which kili had shoved some bread and ale infront of you. You were starving so you didnt waste anytime eating it ,Kili had smirked looking towards his brother.

"y/n this my brother Fili,Fili this is y/n" you had looked up at Fili with a mouthful of bread,gulping it down quickly,sending him a smile. He was indeed very handsome like his brothr,he had smiled at you. "Nice to meet you" you had spoke quietly yet again. "you too." he had replied unsure of his words,he had taken in your clothing it was very strange to anything he had ever seen a human dress.

"so y/n, will you be accompanying us on our journey?" Kili had questioned you,making you break you gaze from Fili. "i-i dont know,Gandalf says i am ,but this Thorin dude sounds scary." even his name sent chills down your spin ,making you shake slightly,the brothers had broken out into loud laughter. You had looked towards them in confusion. "you are not worry ,uncle cannot refuse a wizard." Fili had spoke to you smiling.

"Yeah,plus we will protect you from him,wont we Fili?" Kili had thrown his arm around your shoulder,making you blush a little again. "Yeah,plus uncle will be too distracted with us causing trouble" You had smiled up at fili,chugging down the ale down that you were given. Soon enough Thorin had arrived ,and Gandalf had explained your situation,arguing with Thorin that you were brought here for a reason,eventually Thorin gave in.

You signed a contract, while Kili questioned about your world on and on,he even asked you if you had a boyfriend which you hadnt even had one real relationship. The Durin brothers were pleased with you answer, Thorin didnt hate you,but wasnt keen on a young women joining this quest incase you got hurt. Plus he didnt want to have to worry for you , like he had already did for his nephews,at least you werent an elf...

By the morning you were on a pony,sharing with Fili becayse no one had planned on a 15th member until you fell infront of Gandalf. You hadnt rode a pony for many years only a couple of times as a child,even though you werent going fast your arms were still wrapped around Fili waist/chest. Kili had smirked at his brother,raising his eyebrows,Fili rolled his eyes mouthing 'jealous' and that was that,of course you didnt know about the interaction.

"If I poppedmy cherry,while riding this pony ,i swear." you had spoken quietly,the phrase confused the other dwarves and Bilbo.

"uh, miss y/n what does that mean?" Bilbo had asked ,he was generally curious,you had smiled at the hobbit.

"it means to break my hymen while riding on a pony ,so basically lose my virginity." Bilbo's mouth gap open slightly in shock,but he slowly nods. Bofur,Fili,kili,and some other dwarves had laughed at your worry.

"you'll be fine as long as you dont ride him to hard" Kili had smirked at you sending you a wink,you had scoffed. Fili had smirked at you rjecteing his brother,it gave him some hope that you would eventually like him, he was developing a small crush on you. You had sent a blush to hus face when you had choosen to ride with him.

Obliviously you hadnt packet for this trip, you were lucky enough to fall into this world ,when you had your toothbrush and toothpaste in hand when you slipped and fell into a portal thang. You were lucky enough for the dwarves to give you any unneeded blankets,so you didnt freeze at night,and fili and kili shared their water pouches with you. When it came to night the brothers would set up their bedrolls either side of you ,and if Fili saw you were cold in the night he would pass his furs over you.

But that was months ago,the war was over ,erebor was reclaimed,apparently the reason you were sent here was to save the Durins line which you did. Thorin liked you much more now ,he had now given you a room ,near his and his nephews chambers. You felt lonely,useless even now ,your task was done you had nothing left to achieve in this world. However Thorin coranation ball was soon,he had already sent you dress makers to make you a dress,as gift for you. He wouldnt let it down that you saved his family ,basically he is your bank,he buy you anything you want,not that you wanted to take any of his money.

You had a dark green dress made ,apparently the tailors said it was best suited for you, it was simple ,busted your boobs a bit,and was to the floor,simple as that. avelvet material,shoulders showing with arms,you didnt want to be cold to be honest. You laid on you bed above the covers ,with a towel wrapped around your torso and upper thighs,covering your parts. Head on your pillow,wet hair spread upon it too,staring the celling.

That was until three brief knocks hit your pine door,knock,knock,knock. You didnt know who to expect probably Bilbo. "come in" you replied with a monotone voice. The door creeked open,closing shortly after as footsteps could be heard approaching you. You turnt your head to see Fili, with a blush upon his face ,seeing you in just a towel, you smiled at him ,before turning you head back to the celling.

"im sorry,y/n , I'll come back later"he spoke quickly,looking at you waiting for a response.

"no,no ,no, stay," you replied hurredly ,getting up from your bed quickly trying not flash the prince, grabbing your tshirt throwing it over your head ,so it covered your. You trousers the same just going under the towel, then removing the towel,you didnt know if fili had watched you but he wouldnt have seen anything anyways.

"uh..so why did you come here?" you had questioned the prince ,turning to facing him, he had his back to the door,from giving you privacy getting dressed. "you can face me now fili im not naked." he chuckled nervously ,before turning swiftly around to you. "I just came to see how you were, I havent seen you for days." he sent you a gently smile,walking closer to you ,inspecting you,for signs of distress.

"Im totally cool,don't worry about me." you didnt want to upset Fili by telling him the truth,but you knew he knew you werent ,you had been in your room for three days straight. He had risen an eyebrow at you. "i just don't know why im still here ,I saved your family,now I feel like im useless to be here anymore." you had spoken quietly , eyes looking at the floor which your bare feet stood. You sit at the edge of your bed ,shoulders lower as the bed dips next to you Fili pulls you into a bear hug his strong arms around your shoulders pulling you into him.

"You are NOT useless ,in the passed few days ,do you know how much I missed you,kili has been driving me nuts. I needed you there so i could punch him and you to say it never happened." you laugh quietly into Filis chest ,as your arms are wrapped around his waist tightly. "ill do it if you let me do one thing,please." you looked you from Fili's chest into his blue eyes. "depends what you wanna do?" he smirked at you,still holding you tightly. "Let me do your hair , like evan almighty." you smiled hopefully at the dwarf ,ignoring his joke,his eyes became wide ,he didnt think you knew about courting rituals.

"Y-you want to do my hair?" he was a little taken back ,you just nodded excitedly at the blond prince."okay,go ahead." he didnt want to call you out on it just incase you didnt know,plus he didnt want to face rejection. You jumped up out of his arms to run and grab a brush ,running back launching yourself on the bed ,making fili laugh at your excitement. You kneel behind the prince ,gently taking out his brides,you kept asking if you were allowed to do this he assured you that you could. After you had done that,you brushed out his blond locks ,before pulling it back into a low ponytail. You wish you could do that pony braid on his beard like in the movie but this will have to do. "hehe ,its done." Fili got up and went to the mirror on your dresser,smiling at you in the mirror as you watched. "i love it,thank you,but now its your turn."

Before you knew it he had picked you bridal style with ease ,placing you on a chair,grabbing a brush standing behind you. Bro it happened in 0.3 seconds ,before he started brushing through your h/c hair. Soon his thick dwarven fingers were lacing through your hair ,it was indeed soothing,ever now and then he would place in his beads at the ends of your hair. Once he had finished he had brought you to the same mirror,once you had looked,you realised he braided your hair exactly like he would.You had turnt around quickly,grabbing hisupper arms tightly,thanking him. "Oh my god fili,lets pranked kili!" he had smirked at you."how?"he was always up for playing tricks on his brother.

"Ill pretend to be you,i already got the hair even though its not exactly the same,i just need to borrow some clothes. And if he asks where you are ,ill be like im right here brother," fili had laughed at your plan argeeing to it.Thorin had gift you with many clothes and even makeup which is what you needed right now. You had drawn on a moustache,that fili had before he had led you to his room fetching you some clothes. Luckily kili nor anyone else had spotted you. You had taught how to do an a dance from evan almighty if he was to be caught. You had changed quickly ,keeping your own trousers just changed your shirt while fili faced away. He had given you one of his tunics and his coat while he just wore a tunic,you left yuor clothes on his bed before the both of you fled out the room, you rushed a head while he sneaked behind.

Soon enough you had ran into kili,who eyed your attire confused,at first he thought you had slept with his brother. "Y/n w-what are you doing?" he questioned you,you smirked at him. "Brother what are talking about? y/n is eating potatoes in bed>" you gripped kilis shoulders ,in a botherly manner eyeing him. He had reached up your braids ,touching the beads. "why are you wearing fili's beads? are yo-" "YOUR IT!" you tapped his shoulder ,running away from him,he didnt question you further ,but chased after you ,but you were simply to fast with your long human legs. You had made it to Thorins throne ,which he sat you jumped into his lap roughly,wrapping an arm around his neck

Before he spoke you had breathlessly taken that chance, "Uncle ,kili stole my last piece of bacon." he had chuckled at you, "now my sisters son ,you may have his dessert tonight." you had cheered,as you did Fili had ran into the room,Kili soon after slow coach.

"Fi;i what are you doing?!" kili shouted ,you smirked "no what areee ya doin'?" fili grinned as kili glared at you turning to his actual brother. Fili started doing the dance from evan almighty "uh,uh,uh" mving his hips with his arms in sync motion. You had jumped out of Thorins lap,to join Fili dancing. Before grabbing his hand ,running off into the gardens as it poured down with rain. The rain streamed down your face ,making the makeup do the same,okay so it wasnt really a prank it was just a little fun.

"Oh mister almighty,you do look very handsome."you spoke smirking at fili as the rain soaked you both.

"As do you ,but I think miss y/n is much more beautiful." he spoke to you making a blush rise on your face,you pressed a kiss upon his cheek. "oh my i just kissed myself." fili chuckled lightly ,you forced fili to give you a piggy back ride to his room,so you could both change and to wash your face , Leaving your clothes to dry however you both left you hair,making your way to dinner in which all the company were attending to you. As you walk in all eyes are on the pair of you,kili gestures for the two of you to sit next him ,exactly like when you both met,kili to your left fili to the right. The company kept galancing at you ,as you began to eat your potatoes and pork.

"y/n?" you had glanced up to see Bofur addressing you ,you nod at the hatted dwarf "did fili do that to you hair ,and you do that to his?" he questioned carefully as fili glared at him. "well.. yeah, i wanted to his hair as something different, but i couldnt because his beard wasnt long enough and yeah" you werent even sure what you were saying,because you knew they wouldnt understand if you said steve as even almight/noah.you shove a mouthful of mash into your mouth,you were hungry,your hair was still soaked.

"you are aware that touching a dwarves hair,is a a courting ritual,lassy?" Balin had questioned you making your face go red,choking on your mash,kili patted you back."shes even wearing his beads!" dori had interjected "and lass wearing dwarves clothes suggests that you get it on-" Dwalin began only to be cut off by Thorin "thats enough! shes human ,and from another world how on bloody earth would she know any of our courting customs? shes wouldnt now leave it NOw." Thorin had defending you sensing you were embarrassed,sending you a smile, which you return lightly."Thorin,may i go finish my food alone,in my room?please." It wasnt that you didnt like fili your crush grew huge over the months , its just you had felt like he had set you up for embarrassment by not telling you. Thorin had smiled at you nodding ,thats all it took for you to grab your plate and drink before rushing up to your room.

You couldnt eat your food now,you had shoved it a side before laying down like earlier ,staring intensely at the cream celling,it felt like it only minutes you had been laying there,but the sky was dark ,the month light shinning in through you window. However you didnt know right now kili was coaching fili how to express his feelings for you,to court you. Eventually they had came up with the idea for fili to ask you to walk with him in the gardens, but first he would have to apologise. Fili had basically became sonic sprinting to your room ,kili was currently hiding in a bush in the gardens. Fili he knocked hurriedly on your door, you had ignored his calls ,he had spoke "I'm coming in y/n." he had opened your door rushing to you,you had ignored him again ,pretty childish you know. "Im sorry ,y/n. I didn't mean to embarrass you,please let me explain." he had spoken sincerely,gripping your left hand. "go a head then." you replied still looking at the celling.

"walk with me." you had groaned,you werent mad with fili,you were just embarrassed about the confrontations,you had slipped your shoes back on ,fili held your hand walking you to the gardens in silence.

Bilbo had walked by kili,only to be pulled in the bush ,telling him to shut up ,and watch. There was a pond with breaks around it,fili had led you to sit on there with him,his rough thumb circled your palm whilst holding it gently. You looked into his ocean eyes whilst he stared back in your e/c ones. "y/n l/n I did not intend to embarrass you only to portray my feelings for you,because I am too much of a wimp to face heartbreak if your feelings werent returned.Also didnt mean for the others to think we slept together ,I saw the joy in your eyes when you wanted to annoy kili ,with me.I didnt want to deny that,okay pretty bad excuses I know but what I am trying to say is I love you." he poured out ,turning away from you red faced ,eyes watering slightly,you had pulled his face to you. "i love you too, seth rogen." you had blushed pressing your lips onto his before pulling away,before pushing him into the pond. You had moved out the way so he couldnt grab you had pull you in. He had went under before resurfacing, "hey when you fell in did you flounder?" you had smirked at your pun,it had matched the situation ,as hours ago you had forced him to impersonate steve carell,kili and bilbo were trying not to giggle. "what was that for?" he had gasped ,climbing out of the pond. "oi,dont be so koi ,you had that coming ,for not sticking up for me at dinner." you had pointed at him,still punning before he walked slowly towards you. "you are right maybe i should present my affection to you to make up for it." he held out his arms ,smirking you had widened your eyes muttering "no,no,no" about to run for it but you were too late,he had grabbed you,lifting you onto his shoulders before jumping back into the pond.

You had only been in the water a few seconds before fili had gotten out,lifting you out after,carrying you bridal style,you smiled up at him soaking wet, before walking towards the building. "lets go get dry then you can braid my hair ,hm?" he had finally gotten his love ,and there was nothing better, maybe a child but not right now,you finally felt you had a meaning to be in middle earth. There was a reason you were sent here to say fili,because you were meant to spend your life with him. "okay mister seth rogen?" he had looked down at you confused,as bilbo and kili stared in awe before sneaking off to tell thorin and the others. "who is seth rogen?" you had laughed "you are the seth rogen to my james franco," he didnt know what the hell you were talking about ,yet he smiled,he really was your seth rogen.

#the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit fili #fili x you #fili imagine #fili x reader #the hobbit imagines

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