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j-graysonlibrary · 10 months

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Fort Heaven Chapter 28

Title: Fort Heaven

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 69K

Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story. Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start. The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job. That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing. It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.

Full chapter 28 under the cut

Chapter 28

The images from the computer were projected onto a large, white sheet in front of Evon, Russet, and Yasmine. Jackson and Nichole had been withheld from the so called “meeting” since the both of them only appeared in small portions of the videos. As the footage went on, it became clear to the guards that the three of them in particular were involved and was the reason they were being questioned as a unit.

They’d viewed these videos days ago and were just now playing them in front of the trio almost as a torture in and of itself. It wouldn’t be easy to dispute certain facts or try to sugar coat things when they had possession of hard evidence to the contrary.

While—technically—nothing in the footage suggested malicious intent, there was still a lot of negative talk and a biased outlook on Fort Heaven.

The last clip played and it had been filmed just about a week ago. Their voices were quiet but still audible as they discussed their plans concerning the threatening letter that led them to be captured.

Even if it had been only a handful of days ago, they looked on in agony as it felt like at least a month had already passed them by.

In that video they were scared, yes, but they had yet to be branded. They didn’t yet know what it was like to sleep on the ground in the cold or to only have one meal a day. In comparison, it was definitely a more desirable time.

“Ring any bells?” Cameron, the guard closest to them that had been the one mostly in charge of their interrogations thus far, asked. He held a baton in his hand and used it to point to the sheet. “Would you still like to attest that you didn’t have the intent of attacking our church in your documentary?”

None of them looked at each other—Yasmine and Evon looked down while Russet stared at the man with cold eyes.

“I want to know whose idea it was,” the man continued, “who was the one who initially wanted to start this crusade?”

There was no answer.

Yasmine knew she had to answer. It was her fault, she felt, since she had convinced Evon of it and Russet was strung along because Evon pulled him into it. So, she decided, she was responsible.

But before she could confess, Evon spoke up. “It was mutual. We all thought of it.”

Cameron chuckled to himself and tapped the end of the baton against the palm of his free hand. “Trying to stick together, huh?” He shook his head. “That never lasts long. Eventually you’ll turn on each other—I’ve seen it many times.”

“ No we won’t,” Evon snapped back. He locked eyes with the man and didn’t waver. “We’d never turn on each other.”

“Oh? Well then…” He turned to look at one of the guards standing by the entrance to the tent. “Get me a bucket of water.”

“You…are you going to water-board us…?” Yasmine asked the question the two men were thinking.

“You’ll see.”

“It won’t make any difference,” Russet said quietly. “We won’t betray each other.”

“Mhmmm, sure.”

After a short break, the other guard came back with a bucket of water in his arms. Some sloshed out of the sides which caused the man to visibly stiffen with discomfort. By his body language and the expression on his face, the water in the bucket was very cold.

So it was to be water-boarding in ice water, Evon thought. Surely it would add a more stressful element to it but he was prepared to endure it. Even if his pain tolerance was low and he was scared out of his wits, he would persevere.

The two guards whispered back and forth before Cameron nodded and approached the trio. He didn’t say a word before he threw a small wave of water on all three of them. It instantly drenched them but, worse than anything, was the shock of the cold.

Evon let out a yell as it felt as though a million tiny daggers were thrust into his skin all over and all at once. Yasmine shivered violently and Russet just looked shocked.

“Now get out and go back to your tents. Your meal for the day will be ready shortly.” Cameron looked between them with a smile.

“That’s it?” Russet asked, sounding much more put together than he felt.

“Yes. That’s it.” The smug grin only grew bigger.

Even though they were let go, there was no relief. Outside, the chill of the wind hit them and their wet skin and sent a painful sensation through them that was close to crippling. Yasmine clasped her arms across her chest desperate for warmth, feeling the effects possibly worse than the other two—not that they weren’t suffering as well.

Back where they had spent most of their time and where they slept, they found Jackson and Nichole. The two were in the middle of a conversation but stopped upon seeing them walking closer. Nichole’s eyes darted between them, trying to find sign of injury and Jackson focused more on Yasmine.

“Why are you soaked?” He asked as she knelt down beside him.

“He threw a bucket of water on us,” Russet answered and then winced. Water droplets streamed from his hair down onto his neck.

“You have to get dry fast,” Nichole said with worry in her voice, “I’ve seen this before. They’ll soak people down and leave them wet all through the night. It can be deadly if it you’re not careful.”

“It’s not like we can change,” Evon mentioned and took after Yasmine’s example and crossed his arms. “Or start a fire.”

“We’ll just have to huddle together,” she replied.

“No. You’ll get wet too.”

“I don’t care.” That surprised him. Not that Evon assumed she was heartless or anything but because he didn’t realize she cared for them enough to do that.

“Come on,” Jackson whispered, already on board with the plan. He pulled Yasmine closer to him and wrapped an arm around her. He hardly had enough muscle and body fat on him to warm himself but he wanted to share it anyway. As much as Yasmine had done for him, he wanted to give back.

“Evon on the other side,” Nichole directed. She had him sit beside Jackson so she could be between him and Russet, offering each a side of her that was, at the very least, dry.

The cold and wet press of the fabric and skin against their already cold bodies was unpleasant to say the least but, eventually, a bit of warmth formed between each of them. It wasn’t much but it was something to focus on when a new chill would come over them.

It lasted until morning. There was no conversation between the group huddle and also, for the first time, no visit from Willow in the middle of the night. It was quite concerning but their current situation kept them from wondering too much about it.

Maybe she’d just fallen asleep or had been moved to an inconvenient shift. She was in the best position among them so they didn’t worry all too much. And, especially, not when the trio was taken back to the same tent as the day before.

The footage was shown again from the very beginning and the same questions were asked. If their clothes and hair weren’t still a little damp then they may have started to question having déjà vu. Evon was confused and a bit disoriented while Yasmine just wanted it to end and willed her consciousness to leave this place. Russet, however, had a slow and painful revelation.

This was going to happen on a daily basis until one of them owned up to being fully responsible or if they ganged up on each other. He kept it to himself—even after another bucket of water was splashed over them.

His theory was proven true on the third day when his videos started once more from the beginning. This time, Evon and Yasmine also realized what was happening.

“Come on…” Yasmine pleaded, not caring if she sounded pathetic. Her skin had turned a pale purple compared to her normal dark complexion and she knew it was a matter of time before something irreversible happened to her body. “Just stop. We’re not going to cave.”

“I thought you might say that,” Cameron retaliated with a smirk. He seemed to truly enjoy hurting them—something none of them, especially Evon could wrap their minds around. Sure, they were bad people in the view of Fort Heaven but the whole situation remained ineffable.

Cameron walked to the entrance of the tent, stuck his head out and waved before retreating back in. After a few seconds, another person entered.

Willow.

She didn’t seem all too well herself but her face went grim when she saw who was being tortured. She didn’t move or say anything as the male guard placed a flog in her hand.

The straps on it were longer than what one could find at a sex shop and the material was definitely not as gentle. Thin leather strings with shards of sharp plastic edges weaved through them were definitely not something anyone would willingly consent to being slapped with.

Willow looked down at the tool in her hand and her stomach dropped. It felt more like a test than her presence during Cindy’s torture and she was afraid if she failed this time that it would her undoing. Yet, to not fail, she had put effort into hurting the people who she wanted to save.

“Let’s add an extra element today,” Cameron spoke and walked back in front of the three. “Water…” His eyes flickered back to Willow, “And some lacerations.”

Russet narrowed his eyes at the man and spat, “fuck you.”

Naturally that only worked to please him. He grabbed the bucket of water he’d set to the side since they arrived and paused. The reactionary flinch from all of them made him chuckle and, the second Evon glanced back up, he threw the water.

It was hard to hold back the screams and Yasmine felt herself breaking down into tears.

“Now…anyone willing to confess to being the mastermind of this project?”

After their mutual silence, the man looked to Willow and nodded. She gulped, forcing down any feelings of hesitation. There was no way to apologize or even warn them before she made the first strike but she hope they understood.

The flog sliced down across Yasmine’s back. The woman fell forward and screamed—blood immediately rose to the surface despite how chilled her body was.

“Nothing?” Cameron asked as he kneeled down closer to their eye level. His gaze shifted from her to Russet. “What about you? It was your camera. Maybe it was your idea too?”

Before he could respond, Willow was signaled to act and she brought the flog down onto his back. Her teeth clenched together hard as his body jerked in response to the pain. He was still trying not to react and to keep it together but everyone could see that he was breaking.

“Well if not you then…” the man settled on Evon and Evon tensed up. He knew it was coming and, judging by the reaction of his friends, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to bear it.

“WAIT!” Russet screamed before taking a ragged breath. “It was me—you were right. I thought the whole thing up, I used them by saying they could use it for their blog but I really wanted it for my film career.” The words spilled out of a mile a minute.

Cameron grinned and rose to his feet. “Well, well, I have to say…I didn’t think you’d be the one to break.”

“He’s lying,” Evon said with a pained expression. He was clearly close to tears and his limbs shook from both the cold and his nerves. “It was me. He—I made him come along…”

“Shut up, Evon—don’t try to be a martyr…”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing!”

Russet shook his head. “It was me,” he said, much more calmly to Cameron, “Do whatever you want just don’t hurt Evon. He never had any ill intent with the church it was all me.”

Again, the man laughed at his pain. “Don’t hurt Evon, huh?” His eyes darted up and he gave Willow the look she was dreading.

With a sharp inhale, she offered a silent apology and flogged the man in the middle. His scream mixed with Russet’s own and Yasmine’s sobs crushed her on the inside. She was sure she’d continue to hear it in her head continuously—possible for the rest of her life.

“Alright,” Cameron said suddenly and with his eyes on Willow, “help me grab him and take him to the main building. You two are free to go back to your tent mates.”

Willow grabbed one of Russet’s arms while Cameron took the other and they pulled him up to his feet. She avoided looking at any of them—she couldn’t. Especially not Evon.

“Don’t take him…” Evon pleaded, “Please, don’t take him there…Russet—Russ…” His words whittled down to soft sobs and begging as they took Russet out of the tent. He attempted to get up and follow but his body wouldn’t cooperate with his will.

They all knew what going to the main building meant—Willow more than any of them. Evon knew it was where the individualized torture happened and Yasmine knew that every prisoner that she saw go in there never came back out. Russet knew those things too but he hoped his sacrifice wasn’t in vain and that they would focus on him instead of the other two.

Being killed was a risk he was willing to take to save someone he cared for.

Willow assisted in shackling him to the wall in the basement and was then dismissed. The interrogation and torture probably wouldn’t continue until the next day—she had found that they preferred to make the prisoner a mental wreck by having them wait alone overnight. The anticipation and dread of the following day kept them from sleeping or even shutting down their mind enough to rest.

She gave a look to the man as she left the room. Her colleague was with her so she still couldn’t say she was sorry. She simply had to hope that she could convey it with her eyes.

#fort heaven #my novel #writeblr #lgbt writers

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poptartmochi · 2 years

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we've been mutuals for so long but like idk why it only just processed that yhats v as your icon like i know youve had it for at least a solid few months but up until now its like "ah yeah thats v wow"

godddd we are comrades.... this happened to me the other day with a mutual whose icon is mabel pines. The Mabel Pines. </3 i cannaur fault you for not recognizing him, since the icons are small normally And it's not the best crop of him (the 4am vov screencapping mania was. A Time 🙈🙈)

i changed to him sometime during october last year (how horrifying to write that. T_T the passage of time kills the man!!) for halloween; I plan on changing back to my Heen icon this october. it will be howl'o'heen (because i always forget if he's howl in disguise or Actually heen in that cap 😆)

thank you for sticking around for so long, also!!! :] crazy to think how many madman rambles you might've seen from me throughout all these months 😶🤯😆 take care!!!

#sriracha.txt

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seijorhi · 3 years

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To the Wolves

my (first) entry for the Deal With the Devil collab, because i couldn’t resist writing for Yakuza Getou <33

Getou Suguru x Female Reader

TW Extremely dubious consent, coercion, manipulation, threats, implied murder, smut, nsfw

“No. I- I won’t.”

Sitting comfortably on the old, worn couch in your cramped little apartment, Getou raises a single eyebrow, “Oh? Is that so?”

His voice is perfectly pleasant, the smile on his face a touch amused, but you’re not so naive as to believe that the question is anything but a generous offer for you to rethink your reply. A smart person would take it – since the day you’d first arrived home to find him waiting for you, Getou hadn’t so much as laid a finger on you. He had no need for guns or knives, never shouted or bullied you, his reputation more than enough to cow you into submission before he’d even opened his mouth.

Of course, once he had, the simple threats to your friends and family’s lives had made certain that you were more than amenable to his request.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he’d called it, as if there hadn’t been tears silently streaming down your face, your whole body stiff with fear.

But that was the world he came from. Violence and ruthlessness, cruelty masquerading as kindness.

By all accounts, someone like you – a lowly admin assistant living a very boring, mundane life – should never have crossed paths with a man like Getou. The irony, of course, being that it was precisely because of your job that he’d been drawn to you in the first place.

“I-I said no,” you stammer. “I’m not doing it.”

Getou sighs, long, pale fingers idly fixing the cuff of his left sleeve. “I had no idea the lives of your loved ones meant so little to you.”

“Please, I-” you break off, biting your lip as your hands curl into useless fists at your side, “I can’t. Anything else, I’ll do anything, I swear it, just… please.”

Men like Getou aren’t the type to be swayed by pretty words or tearful pleas, but there’s an unmistakable glimmer of interest that flickers in his eyes at the offer. Casually, he leans forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and regarding you with a smirk. “So you’ll bring me the list of witnesses then?”

The barely audible hitch in your breath is enough to make him chuckle.

“No? How about those surveillance tapes, hm?” Smoothly, he rises to his feet and makes his way towards you. “Careful, little one, first rule of negotiation is knowing when you have something to bargain with. Don’t promise me what you can’t give.”

“Getou–”

He raises a hand and you quickly fall silent. There’s only inches between you two now, Getou’s taller, broader frame looming over yours. He could kill you like this, you realise with panic – reach out and wrap his hands around your throat and snap your pretty little neck before you could so much as scream. The tailored line of his jacket hides the gun he has holstered at his side, but Getou knows you're aware of its presence, have been since the very first time he’d broken into your home and threatened you.

It’d take him only moments to draw the sidearm, even less for him to pull the trigger.

The walls of your apartment are thin, would your neighbours come if they heard gunfire? Would you, for that matter, if your roles were reversed?

Yet Getou makes no move for his gun, instead reaching for your chin, tilting it up with two curled fingers until you meet his gaze, “You understand, don’t you, that I make one phone call and that charming sister of yours and her fiance meet a very tragic, very untimely end?”

He pauses, waiting until you jerk a quick nod of assent before continuing. “You love them. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with prioritising the ones you love over everybody else.” His voice is gentle, but the words make you shake, dread rising from the pit of your stomach as the pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip.

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something to that, but even as you try, you can’t summon the words. The by now familiar scent of his cologne tickles your nose and invades your throat, the warmth of his touch burning through your veins. Your own heart hammers like a drumbeat in your chest, every cell in your body screaming danger, but you don’t run, you don’t even flinch.

Getou smiles kindly, and perhaps if you hadn’t seen first hand the aftermath of his handiwork you might be tempted to believe it. His spare hand reaches into his jacket, but instead of the gun you’re expecting, he pulls out his phone, the screen flickering to life with a swipe of his finger. “So tell me, before I make a call you and I both know you don’t want me to make, why you’ve suddenly decided that their lives aren’t worth your compliance?”

Nanami. Your boss’s face flashes to your mind, the odd, fleeting glances he’d sent your way over the past few weeks when he’d thought you weren’t paying attention. Your stomach erupts with butterflies, your cheeks unwittingly warming, but you just shake your head, “If I give you those files, you’ll kill them. You’ll hurt them.”

“Maybe,” he hums, “maybe not. It’s no less than those monkeys deserve, don’t you think?” He spits the word like it’s venom, the twitch in his jaw the only chink in his otherwise effortless composure. “You’re protecting them, even now.”

You make no attempt to defend yourself, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting him off, but Getou seems entirely unfazed, laughing coldly at your stricken expression.

“Your boss, the one with the perpetual stick up his ass; Nanami,” potent disdain drips from his tone at the name, “Always so morally righteous, sitting up on his high horse. You think he cares for you, that he’ll protect you when all of this comes out? And it will come out eventually,” he says, his smirk widening at the sudden pallor in your face. “At some point there’ll be one too many unfortunate coincidences, and the higher ups will realise that they have a mole in their ranks. Fingers will be pointed of course, but eventually even those idiots will figure it out.”

A knot tightens inside of your chest at his words, constricting until it feels like you can’t breathe. You’re shaking your head, eyes filling with tears, “N-no–”

“Oh, little one,” Getou murmurs, dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your distress. “Surely you realised that they have security cameras covering every inch of your floor? There was no reason to look before, but once they do…” he trails off, letting go of your chin in favour of brushing the back of his knuckles along your cheek. “They’ll throw you to the wolves.”

His voice is soft and cruel, belied by the gentleness of his touch, but it does nothing to quell the rising sense of dread inside of you. You want to believe it’s a lie, another threat meant to scare you into submission, but some deeper part of you recognises the truth in his words.

Nanami, who’d told you once that there was innocence and there was guilt and very little in between. Nanami, whose office you’d bugged, whose trial only weeks ago you’d all but derailed with a few misplaced documents. You think back to the late nights shared in his office, bowls of ramen and case files scattered across the desk between you. You think of the rare smiles, his oddly dry sense of humour, the pleasant fluttering in your heart–

“You’ll rot in prison long before I do, and there is not a soul among that insipid bunch that would lift a finger to stop that from happening to you.”

A soft, strangled noise leaves your lips as you fight not to sob, and Getou sighs, the corners of his lips twitching downwards in contrived sympathy. “Say the word and I’ll walk away tonight. I’ll still have to kill your sister – I am a man of my word, you understand – but I promise it’ll be the last you see of me.”

He slides his phone back into the breast pocket of his jacket, taking your face in both of his hands as tears spill down long lashes. “And when they come for you, you can tell them I threatened you, show them what little proof you have – if you have any at all. Maybe it’ll even make a difference,” he says. “But I doubt it.”

Every word is like a knife, slicing away at the raw, bleeding, vulnerable parts of you.

“Please…” It’s weak and desperate, your voice cracked and broken. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore; your sister’s life, for Getou’s mercy, or maybe just for him to stop saying such awful things. He must take pity on you though, because he sighs once more, his right thumb sweeping across your wet cheek to brush away silvery tear tracks.

“I’m not a complete monster, you know. I protect what’s mine.”

And in one breath, everything screeches to a standstill and a trickle of very real fear creeps down your spine. There’s no mistaking his implication, not when he’s holding your face like that, his eyes dark and simmering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“W-what?”

Getou closes the gap between you two, a startled noise leaving your lips as his hips press flush up against you. “Don’t play stupid, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a warning, “It doesn’t suit you.”

One hand slips to your neck, the other curling almost possessively around your waist. There’s no room for you to move, to back away or free yourself. For a moment, neither of you speak, the heavy silence deafening between you.

Does he notice the way your pulse races under his fingertips as they circle your throat, how you’re shaking like a leaf beneath him? Does he want you afraid? A scared little bunny rabbit cowering from the gaping maw of the big, bad wolf?

Judging from the bulge of his semi-hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of your belly, he’s not entirely unaffected, and for the first time it’s not Getou’s gun or his threats that you’re most afraid of.

It’s the selfish, twisted want that glitters and glints in those pitiless depths. You’ve never felt so entirely at somebody else’s mercy as you do with Getou now, staring you down like he wants to lay you bare, claim you again and again for all the world to see. And you don’t understand. There’s a thousand and one questions running through your mind, your insides twisted up into knots.

You know what it is he’s asking of you – though asking feels like a generous word when he can so easily just take – but none of this makes sense, not when he was threatening your family’s lives only minutes ago.

As if he can sense the turmoil and confusion raging through you, he leans down, his lips ghosting over the outer shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I am a man of my word.

His earlier statement rings through your head as you search his face for any sign of deception – you find none. But walking away means your sister dies. It means you’re left on your own to fend off the wolves when they find out what you’ve done.

Nanami might believe you. He might even defend you, but you’ve worked in the Prosecutor’s office long enough to know that duress isn’t the bulletproof defence people think it is, and for tangling with the likes of him…

You were screwed the moment he showed up in your living room, this- this is just the coup de grâce. The final damnation.

“Why me?”

Getou doesn’t answer, but when he draws you into a kiss, his lips moving torturously slow against yours, there’s an edge of… something there, lying hidden just beneath the surface. And it terrifies you, more than his words and his promises ever could.

But when your back’s to the wall, what choice do you really have?

It feels like defeat when he takes you by the hand and leads you into your bedroom, ignoring the uncertain glance you cast over your shoulder towards the living room. You don’t want any of this, but you can pretend that it’s just… business if he fucks you out there.

Not in the bed you sleep in.

It’d be easier, you think, if it was cold and impersonal. If you cried and it stung and the only sounds in the room were flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing and an occasional rough grunt.

There’s nothing impersonal about the way he watches you strip out of your clothes at his command. His own join yours on the floor without much ceremony – his gun pointedly set just within reach atop your nightstand.

The first time you’d laid eyes on Getou Suguru, it was two months into your new job; a photograph pinned to a thick, heavy file Nanami had dropped on your desk. A surveillance picture, you’d gathered, snapped as the man was exiting some neon lit club downtown. And you remembered the smug smirk he’d had, staring directly down the lens of the camera like it was a challenge, but that wasn’t what had struck you most.

It was the flutter of interest that’d shot through your veins the moment before common sense kicked in. Tall and fit, with long, dark hair swept up in the wind, a sharp jaw and a handsome face, you remember thinking he was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Now, standing naked before you, bright, colourful tattoos inked across his torso, accentuating the muscles that rise and fall with every measured breath, you can’t bear to look. It’s easier just to stare at the wooden floorboards, the corner of the shagged rug you’d bought at a thrift store when you first moved in. Easier to pretend Getou isn’t pulling you closer once more, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along your neck, murmuring words that are lost to you entirely as his hands wander. You can feel it now, the heat of his body as he cages you in, his cock, thick and heavy and flushed nudging insistently up against your stomach.

You expect him to shove you to your knees, to force his cock down your throat in some archaic show of dominance before he claims your cunt, but he doesn’t.

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers into your ear, teeth catching lightly on the sensitive lobe as you shiver. “Like you do when I’m not here, those pretty legs spread, fucking yourself on your fingers…”

The comment feels too familiar to be entirely offhanded, striking a chord of panic somewhere deep inside of you–

But it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter now.

You allow him to kiss you again before climbing onto the mattress. Like a good girl, you fall back onto the pillows, let your legs ease apart, wrapping your lips around two fingers and sucking for a brief moment before gliding your hand down between your thighs.

His breath hitches, a soft curse sounding when saliva slicked digits spread your folds, the tip of your middle finger brushing lightly against your clit as you stroke your pussy. Your nipples harden and peak under the cool night air and you use your free hand to palm at your breast, pinching and teasing at the sensitive bud while one finger slips into the warmth of your cunt.

The mattress dips, Getou climbing onto the bed, settling himself back on his knees, your spread legs either side of him.

“Beautiful,” he breathes.

Your heart stutters, movements jerking as you brace for him to interfere, to touch you, but aside from nudging your thighs further apart to get a better view of your glistening cunt, he seems content simply to sit back and watch, his own hand lazily stroking at his cock.

Trying in vain to block him out, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the way your fingers feel between your legs, the pleasure–

(Not the shame, don’t think about that, don’t think about Getou watching you debase yourself for his enjoyment)

–that pools in your core as you rub the shining pearl of your clit. It’s a familiar dance, a routine you’d normally help along with a glass of wine and a few faithful toys, but you don’t exactly have that luxury here.

And even with the rigid tension in your shoulders, the unwanted presence of a man you’re terrified of impossible to ignore, you can’t help the quiet moan that slips past your lips, the way your hips stutter, grinding against the heel of your palm as your fingers hit that sweet, delightful spot inside of you.

Getou tenses at the sound, the last, fragile thread of his composure snapping–

He strikes fast. One moment you’re biting down on your bottom lip, your index and middle fingers knuckle deep in your dripping pussy, the next he’s braced atop you, one hand locked around your wrist, the other propping himself up. And as your eyes fly open with a startled cry, his lips crash against your once more – desperate and ravenous, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to taste you.

And you don’t fight it when he pulls your hand from your pussy and drags it to his crotch, his fingers entwining with yours as he wraps them around his heavy, throbbing cock and moans. It’s humiliating, the way he thrusts into your hand, tightening his grip so you’re forced to feel every shivery twitch of his dick while he sucks eagerly on your tongue.

This is the choice you’d made, the deal you struck. It’s too late to back out now, and even if you tried to…

“I want you,” he pants, his lips glistening with saliva, an almost manic look in those dark, pretty eyes, “to ride me.”

… you’re not so sure Getou would let you.

So you allow yourself to be manhandled, lifted and situated across his lap like a doll. Hands braced on his tattooed chest, you lift your hips just enough for him to guide his cock to your slick entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length.

Every inch hurts.

It doesn’t make it any less painful, the way Getou soothes you, his thumbs stroking gently at your waist as you whine and mewl, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he stuffs you full.

“Fuck– good girl, taking me so well,” he purrs.

You’re not sure if it’s shame, pleasure, or some sense of twisted pride at the praise that has your pussy clenching, fire racing through your veins when Getou experimentally rocks his hips upwards. And if your cheeks weren’t already burning, the lewd moan that escapes you when the head of his cock hits your g-spot would certainly do the trick.

Ever observant, he wastes no time capitalising on your slip, lifting you up just to drive you back down onto his length at the perfect angle. You shudder around him, keening out a cry that has him groaning in pleasure.

There’s no illusion of control here between you two.

You might be the one on top, but Getou’s grip’s too tight, guiding every roll of your hips against his, his own rising in time to fuck his cock deeper into your warm, velvety cunt. And somewhere distantly you recognise that this could be a thousand times worse. How easily he could change the narrative in a heartbeat, flip you over, force your face into the pillows and fuck you like a dog until you’re gasping for air. He could use you, hurt you, probably kill you without ever needing to touch the gun he’d left on your nightstand – and you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping him.

But he doesn’t. Lying back against your pillows, dark hair falling from his half up-do, cheeks flushed from exertion, Getou’s attention is wholly fixed on you - on your face, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he hits somewhere deep inside of you that has you seeing stars, on your tits, the way they bounce every time you sink back down onto his cock.

His eyes are hooded, dark and intense, searching for every hint of pleasure he’s drawn from you. You gasp his name, fingers digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering so deliciously around him – and he loses that last little bit of his self control.

He jerks upright, one arm wrapping around your waist to anchor you to him as he braces himself with the other, and before you can so much as gasp his mouth is at your tits, hot tongue laving at soft, supple skin there.

“Suguru,” he growls, hips snapping feverishly against yours.

“Suguru,” you parrot, head lolling back as heat coils tighter in your core.

You’ll worry about the consequences later, when he pulls you boneless and sated into his arms and you feel his heart thumping at your back as he kisses you and tells you to sleep. When tomorrow you arrive at work and Nanami stares a beat too long as the love bites scattered across your throat, no doubt wondering why you won’t so much as look at him.

For now, you settle for pulling him closer, gasping as you chase that quaking, blissful end.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere getou suguru #yandere getou #yandere getou suguru x reader #yandere getou x reader #yandere jjk #tw: dubcon #tw: coercion #tw: threats #tw: implied murder #yandere #deal with the devil collab

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 3 years

Text

The Dock

A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other

Word count: 4.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger

Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]

---

You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”

“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”

“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”

The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.

“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”

“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.

“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.

“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.

“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.

“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.

“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.

“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.

---

“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.

“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”

“Well then, let’s hear it.”

“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”

“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”

“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”

“Sure he would,” you scoffed.

“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”

“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.

“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.

“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”

“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”

“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.

“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.

You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”

“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”

You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.

As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”

Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”

A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.

“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.

“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”

That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.

“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.

“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”

You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.

You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.

Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.

“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.

“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”

You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.

“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.

“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“Tony-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.

“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.

Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.

“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”

---

“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.

You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”

“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.

Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.

“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.

“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”

“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.

“I’m just saying.”

“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.

“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.

“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”

“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”

“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”

“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”

Soon. He was going to do it soon.

---

“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.

“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.

“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.

“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push.

“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.

“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”

You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”

“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.

“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).

“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”

The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.

“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”

“Well half the fun is falling off.”

“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”

“What would you suggest we rather do then?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”

“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.

“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.

“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.

“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”

“Good.”

A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.

His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.

“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.

This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.

---

You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?

“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Oh, okay.”

“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”

“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.

He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.

“Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.

Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.

Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.

“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.

“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.

“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”

You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.

“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”

“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.

“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.

Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.

“For what?”

“Your face.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”

“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”

“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”

You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.

He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.

A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.

“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”

You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.

You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.

“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.

“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.

“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.

“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”

“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”

“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”

“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came. “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.

---

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948 notes · View notes

umbran6 · 3 years

Text

The Argument Against Caleo

Spoilers up to Blood of Olympus and beyond. Beware! (Or not, the book series has been out for a few years, get over it). I wrote this after seeing a user wondering why people didn’t like Caleo, or in some cases, hated it. Here, I want to explain the answer as much as possible while doling out my own points.

One of the main grievances I have as a fan of Leo Valdez would be the ship Caleo, or Leo x Calypso. It’s a complicated ship, to say the least, with multiple issues that make me question why people like the ship. And I admit it, they initially had some chemistry, but there’s multiple issues that Uncle Rick produced through making such a relationship that makes it extremely open to criticism, criticism which I will explain through this post.

One of my main points against them is that the ship was created on a very limited time scale. Although we aren’t given an exact date to date of when Leo and Calypso met to when they fell in love, we can safely estimate it to be a week at best. Such a limited amount of time from going through the multiple stages of a relationship already stresses the limits of the suspension of disbelief.

A counterexample would be Percabeth, or Percy x Annabeth. Throughout the series, we aren’t introduced to them being romantically involved until the Titan’s Curse, which was two years after they met. Specifically, this is brought up by Aphrodite, the goddess of love herself. Admittedly, Percy and Annabeth were twelve years old when they first met, when romance was definitely out of the picture, especially with a quest to get the Master Bolt.

However, from there we get to see multiple examples of their character depth, ranging from their respective fatal flaws to their ambitions, hopes and dreams, and their friendship. We get to see the slow build up of their chemistry, which was a really good writing move on Uncle Rick’s part. These characters took their sweet time to get to where they wanted to go, and despite the false romantic lead of Rachel, they still got together.

On the other hand, we don’t see enough of this between Leo and Calypso — we only see one book where they interacted with each other in The House of Hades, and that was only for a handful of chapters. While they are definitely older so they can jump straight to romance (some may say too old, but I’ll get to that) its still a pretty huge gap to jump through without making it stick. This makes it hard to root for a ship when it is built on a rather faulty foundation from the ‘they just met’ to ‘they get together’, especially when they don’t have a lot of events to show their chemistry.

Which brings me to Ogygia, which has raised a few red flags for me when looking at it from a retrospective point of view. Now, we know what the main issue of the island is that the hero who landed on said island can’t leave until Calypso falls in love with them. And we’ve seen this with Percy during the Battle of the Labyrinth, where he lands in the island and Calypso falls in love with him while tending to his wounds from, you know, being erupted from freaking Mt. St. Helens. Needless to say, this falling in love with each other montage happened quickly to the point of suspicion, which sets up the complication that Calypso and Leo might have fallen in love due to magical intervention.

And hear me out, because although this might be a pretty big pill to swallow, we have evidence for this through Percy. It only takes one chapter for Calypso and Percy to meet, and the next he’s willing to consider leaving Camp Half-Blood and Annabeth behind to live on the island when Hephaestus gives him the choice to leave Ogygia or stay. We don’t even get an explanation on why Percy considered giving it all up just so he can be with her. All we know is, girl meets boy, now they want to live on an isolated island forever. It’s especially absurd considering Percy’s hamartia (fatal flaw) is freaking loyalty to those he loves. Needless to say, It’s a huge YIKES, especially when we apply it to Leo and Calypso.

It also raises the possibility that the romantic relationship between them is doomed to failure. And if you guys want to fight me on this, let’s look at Jason and Piper, a couple whose relationship started with a similar foundation. Piper had romantic memories implanted into her brain by Hera through the use of the Mist, while Jason was reduced to a Tabula Rasa (a blank slate for those who lack culture) by said goddess. They broke up before the Trials of Apollo because it was clear that when the dust settled, Piper had been aware that their romance was a lie and that their intentions to stay together was a mix of delusion and pressure from freaking Aphrodite. Leo and Calypso get together under what is arguably a very similar set of conditions if Ogygia’s magic had any influence on their relationship, and that this magic could wear off if given enough time.

Third, and here’s a pretty big one for me, would be Calypso’s character, mainly because there are a lot of unfortunate implications attached to it. In The Blood of Olympus, she was turned into the divine equivalent of Princess Peach, with Leo being her Mario (except he saves her with a badass metal dragon). Its extremely unnecessary to make a character, especially as one such as Calypso, get turned into the typical reward of a B-Class action movie. It’s insulting and puts her up as a trophy, a narrative that is definitely not ok by any means necessary.

In another direction, Calypso is also really, really worrying when things don’t go get her way. First, let’s look at The Odyssey, the first myth she pops up. Calypso had imprisoned Odysseus for ten years on her island until Hermes said to let him go, and although it gives them plenty of time to fall in love, it also raises the implications of stockholm syndrome. Then we’ve got the fact that Calypso cursed Annabeth out of spite, implicitly saying that she wished the daughter of Athena would suffer the same isolation that she did, which came to reality when Percy and Annabeth met the Arai in Tartarus. And Annabeth wasn’t even aware that she was still in Ogygia, much less intentionally intervened in the matter. When Percy left Ogygia, rather than be angry at Percy, Calypso cursed Annabeth out of all people to suffer the same loneliness and misery she went through. That’s some Hera at her worst levels of spite.

Through such evidence we can see that Calypso is extremely wrathful towards those who break her heart even though they don’t want to. It certainly implies that Calypso isn’t in a good state of mind, and could easily repeat said actions if provoked. We could almost compare it to Medea and the original Jason, but at least in that case, Medea has every right to be pissed off at Jason and take her revenge. Calypso’s curse and how she handles things certainly implies a level of immaturity that would end in disaster if they broke up.

One issue that, I’ll admit is more from my personal point of view is that the ship took a lot of Leo’s character and threw it in the garbage in Blood of Olympus. Though we see him do a lot of stuff behind the scenes, the fact that its all for the goal of reaching Calypso just reduced him to someone who is more focused on love than, you know, fighting the evil goddess that was responsible for killing his mom and getting sweet sweet revenge. While the revenge plot can be cliched sometimes, it can be played well, while romance and the typical ‘always save the girl’ trope is just overdone. If Leo had been allowed to, you know, be more focused on other things rather than Calypso, we could have seen a lot more variety in his character.

For example as one of the possible character arcs he could’ve gone through, Leo has always been alone among the couples, often being isolated. Heck, Nemesis herself stated that he would always be the seventh wheel, and that he would never find a place among his brethren. Though some fellow tumblr users have taken this in multiple ways, either saying that he should learn to be happy by himself or that he is socially isolated in the Argo II because of these romantic relationships (I prefer a mix of both). Uncle Rick just giving him a girlfriend seems like taking the easy way out of solving such an issue and abandoning what could’ve been a rather interesting character arc. The relationship isn’t a bad thing if we remove some of the unfortunate implications, but it is a bad way to end what is a complex and realistic problem for a character and in some cases maybe possible in real life.

One more minor but still yikes worthy point is that there’s a huge age gap between them. We’re not talking about the ‘Hazel is 15 and Frank is 17 and in one year that’ll be a problem because then Hazel will be jailbait’ age gap. And even then, we can argue that Hazel is older since she is chronologically ninety-one years old. No, Calypso is older by millennia in terms of mindset and body due to the perks of being a goddess, while Leo is sixteen.

God-to-Mortal relationships are already complicated, even with emotionally and socially well-functioning adults. The fact that Leo is underage, inexperienced with romance (despite his flirting, Calypso was his first kiss), and has been through a freaking ton of trauma in his youth, does not make this okay. At best, they’re both mutually interested in each other but may have different expectations when it comes to a relationship. At worst, Calypso is taking advantage of a boy just so she can get out of Ogygia and possibly dumping him later on like the wrapping of a candy bar. Even though Calypso lost her immortality during The Trials of Apollo, that doesn’t even compensate for the immense age gap alongside Leo’s guilt at the possibility that he might’ve been responsible for her losing said immortality.

Oh, and about Leo... I’m a fan of him, but I can admit that he is in a bad spot both mentally and emotionally throughout the series. He’s lost his mom due to a mix of his own powers and Gaea’s trickery, and never had the chance to fully process that event and come to terms with it. The foster home system alongside his own trauma has forced him to hide his emotions through a façade of happiness and jokes when it’s quite clear to me he needs a therapist, stat. He's also run away from several foster homes, implying this means he was and still is being affected by the event. His mask is still on during The Blood of Olympus considering he hid a lot of things from Piper and Jason.

Speaking about them, not helping this matter is the fact that he’s rather isolated in terms of friendships since Jason and Piper, his supposed best friends are more interested in locking lip rather than, you know, actually hanging out with each other. He doesn’t have good friendships with the rest of the Seven, and the closest ones he does have is with Hazel and Frank. And even then they start off in the wrong spot since Frank is very insecure about possibly losing Hazel to him during Mark of Athena while Hazel in the meantime, is also dealing with the fact that he is the descendant of her possible boyfriend Sammy Valdez.

This could indirectly have made him desperate for affection since he has nobody else to confide in during the rest of the series, which is a bad mental state to be in when one lands on Ogygia, the island that we’ve seen could possibly force two people to fall in love with each other. A romantic relationship is not something that he needs or something that will help him in the future. He needs more than that, and having him in one that could end in disaster is the last thing he needs.

And that does not make him a bad person, much less a bad character. While some who are similarly emotionally and socially isolated may turn to violence or creepy behavior on those they want affection from, Leo does not do that to the other characters. It just means that he as a character needs more time to recover and develop before we go giving him romantic relationships, much less one with Calypso.

That’s not to say that they don’t have some things in common. Both are starved for love and affection, with Calypso being constantly rejected by heroes while Leo was rejected by foster homes and his own family. It’s a trait that they have in common, but it shouldn’t be the only thing that they have in common, especially since it is laced with a trauma that is clear they haven’t had help processing. They need to develop more as characters and as friends before they should be paired together.

So… yeah. The Caleo relationship is, in my eyes, doomed to failure, or at least heavily flawed after taking the above points into account. Uncle Rick, as if seemingly aware of these criticisms, has put the relationship in a rocky place by The Tower of Nero, giving them the possibility of overcoming the above criticisms and their own flaws, or giving fanfic writers an out and pairing Leo with another character or have him single, but happy. Either way, in my opinion Caleo is a bad ship when it comes to how it was created, alongside the flaws and unfortunate implications it has.

While I can see some of the chemistry the ship has, you can’t just use a couple of moments where they get along as evidence that they belong together, especially with the above reasons. That’s like using a band-aid to cover a bullet hole without removing the bullet, stopping the bleeding, and preventing infection. If both characters and their relationship had been given more time to develop, I would understand how they would get together.

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professorthaddeus · 3 years

Text

Mother, Father. This will be my final letter.

You know, I used to find the two of you everywhere. I would see the love I betrayed in the faces of families who are whole. I would hear your terrified screams in laughter. I would see your bodies twisted in agony in the flickering of a campfire. I would feel your blood on my hands every time I cast a spell.

I would find you everywhere, and so I held fast to the possibility that I would bring you back.

Today, I relinquished the chance of it ever becoming a reality.

I could have gone back and saved you. It would have worked. There were puzzle pieces in that chamber that I would have clicked into place; there was magic buried in those relics that I would have unlocked and unleashed.

I would have joined the ranks of mages of myth. I could have unraveled everything.

The chamber is nothing but ashes now.

I still find the two of you everywhere. Your dreams for my potential are in the spells I learned from Essek. Your hope for the Empire is in Beauregard’s pen as she fights for our people, stroke by stroke. Your love is in the grin that Veth shines on her son when he fires a toy crossbow at the ass of a local shopkeeper.

I miss you. I love you. I am sorry.

I hope I can still make you proud.

Caleb closes that worn, leather-bound book for the last time. Tucks it back beneath his arm, stands, walks to the entryway of his tower. His hand shakes as he reaches for the handle.

Well, you and the Nein got me to the door. Now I have to walk through it.

He takes a deep breath, then takes his first step outside.

He arrives in Blumenthal alone, visits their graves, leaves his letters in the ground.

And he gets to work. But in this, he is not alone.

Beauregard is there, matching every armload of books he carries with two of her own. They spend their days compiling records and narratives, wielding the truth both in court and behind the scenes—children of the Empire leaving their home better than they found it for the children who will come after them, just as they always vowed.

What wasn’t planned is this: a couple times every week, Beauregard drags Caleb out of the library. They teleport to a remote cottage in a location that few are privy to, where Yasha will have started preparing the ingredients for a new recipe from Caduceus. The instructions are often passed through a jumbled chain of Jester’s messages, and there always seem to be a suspicious number of bugs included for supposedly vegetarian dishes, but they make it work all the same. On more than a few occasions, Caleb plays referee while Beauregard and Yasha spar, safe in the knowledge that their attacks are of their own free will and they will never truly harm each other again.

Jester and Fjord spend much of their time on the open sea, but Jester’s voice is never far from Caleb’s ear. She tells him of everything from her newest tattoo victim to an encounter with a dragon turtle with a grudge, from a shanty about dicks she came up with on the fly to an update on a young half-orc girl Fjord has taken under his wing. Every once in a while, Jester will demand a reunion, too. Some of them are out of necessity—such as when Uk’otoa finally comes knocking and Fjord can no longer sail the other away—but many are not. They meet in Nicodranas when the Nein Heroez docks for a pastry run, they meet in Hupperdook for a night packed with drinking contests and celebone sticks and hugs for Kiri, they meet on Rumblecusp when life becomes too much and the nine of them sorely need to fuck off to a vacation. Soon, even Darktow is open to them, once Kingsley has unseated the Plank King and lifted their ban from the island. His reign is long, and it is magnificent. Until he grows bored.

Caduceus joins them for every mandated reunion, but for the most part, he tends to his garden or explores the world on his own. But he is never out of reach, and when he does not come to the rest of them, they go to him. It is not uncommon for Caleb to arrive in the Blooming Grove to see Beauregard already meditating by the pond. Other times, Fjord will be there drinking tea with Caduceus, and the three of them will share a quiet conversation, each far more secure in their words than they��d been over fish and chips all those years ago. Often it is just Caduceus and his parents and siblings, and Caleb will be invited to a family dinner in a home that Ikithon could not burn down.

Veth remains a constant in Caleb’s life. Of course she does. Sometimes, when the two of them are teaching the neighborhood kids how to point a copper wire, or reminiscing over a glass of sherry, or simply talking while she weaves flowers into his hair on the beaches of Nicodranas, he’ll think back to his old fears of losing her to her family and laugh. After all, how could such a thing be possible when he is a part of her family himself?

There are others, too.

Countless students who pass under his tutelage and grow into young mages who know that power should be used to protect, not to manipulate. A cat—well, there are many cats, but there is one in particular that Caleb does not own, a snowy white fey cat who slinks in and out of his classroom as he pleases, whose eyes seem to flash when the Martinet arrives to have a word, who settles into place around Caleb’s shoulders with a purr when the rare nightmare returns.

An unexpected kinship with Yeza, forged at first through mutual respect and an understanding in their love for Veth, but eventually growing into a friendship in its own right. It is one that unfolds in quiet nights by stacks of books, in gleeful debates when comparing notes on magic and alchemy, in exhausted evenings watching over Luc together while Veth takes a girls’ night out to cause some chaos with Jester, Beauregard, and Yasha.

His old friends, who, try as they might, never seem able to sever the threads that have always tangled their fates together. It is Eadwulf who comes around first, with the silent offering of a bottle and a grim smile as he and Caleb crumble the bricks of Vergesson to dust. Astrid takes time. It makes sense—she has always been a fantastic dancer, and for a while, it appears they will be trapped in a precarious political tango forever, stepping around each other in their roles as the Archmage of Civil Influence and a simple teacher who may or may not be practicing treason in his classroom. But in the shadows, Astrid pulls a few strings to keep Caleb out of prison. Caleb hears a rumor and sends the might of the Cobalt Soul after a colleague who wants Astrid dead. And eventually, she begins joining him and Wulf on their evening walks through the streets of Rexxentrum. They return to the dance hall. They get lunch. They share memories, relearn each other’s old scars, and discover that solace can still be found in each other the way it was when they were children. It will always be complicated. It starts to become beautiful.

And of course, floating by Caleb’s side every step of the way is Essek, a drow who has learned to curb his ambition and care for others, who has decided to make his own amends. The former Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, who now spends his days picking up cupcakes for Jester in Uthodurn, planting seeds in the Blooming Grove. Sitting in on Caleb’s lessons with a different face each week, sketching runes into the floor of Caleb’s home amongst scattered papers and spell components, curling up on a couch beside Caleb and begrudgingly getting through Tusk Love because he promised. A traitor, a hero, a lifelong friend. A steadfast love.

So when Caleb Widogast arrives at the final page of his story, he is no longer shrouded in guilt, or grief, or regret. No, he is surrounded by the warmth of his chosen family when he takes his last breath, when time has run its course and he is finally ready to meet his parents again.

(And even before he sees their faces, he knows. He knows he made them proud.)

—————

also on ao3 | my other cr fics

#critical role #caleb widogast #mighty nein #empire siblings #shadowgast #blumendrei #cr spoilers #c2e141 #this is very delayed because i've been too busy to sit down and finish it until now and it's kind of a mess #buuut here tumblr have half my feelings about the finale and the nein crammed into one fic #my writing #my ramblings #c2 epilogue #cr fic

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scriptaed · 3 years

Text

...cause i like you?!

genre: fluff/crack; e2l!au;

pairing: jin x reader;

length: 2.1k;

synopsis: just the thought of it, no, the mere possibility of it boggles the ever so egotistical mind that belonged to kim seokjin. him? and... her? his arch enemy? his sworn nemesis whose incessant badgering he simply refuses to surrender to? struck with a capricious cold, jin’s teapot of a mind attempts to conceal its steam fall short when you pay an unexpected visit and all mayhem is set loose. when did it happen? how did it happen? no... no, it can’t be... he can’t... possibly... like her?!

You [4:05 P.M.] are you sure this is the right address????

Dipshit Tae [4:05 P.M.] yes for hundredth time

Dipshit Tae [4:05 P.M.] why would i give you the wrong address??

You [4:06 P.M.] you mean why WOULDN’T you give me the wrong address..

You [4:06 P.M.] is that loser even home?

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] yeah, he should be. he was texting me about how bored he was just a while ago.

You [4:06 P.M.] wait.. he was texting you?? I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WERE WORRIED CAUSE HE WAS BEDRIDDEN AND WASN’T RESPONDING???

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] uh… yeah, he was :) I swear :) which is exactly why you’re there because YOU have a car and I don’t!

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] aren't I a good wingman? :)

You [4:06 P.M.] I DON'T LIKE HIM

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] awww I can see you blushing through text you

You [4:06 P.M.] I hate your guts also why isn’t he answering the door

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M] he’s not?? try ringing the doorbell

You [4:07 P.M.] you think I haven’t, dumbass?

Dipshit Tae [4:07 P.M.] hold on, let me call him

"God," your breath marks the air in white puffs as you pace in place before his house, "hurry up—"

—swoosh, the door opens magically and, lo and behold, there stands the devilish man himself, Kim Seokjin… except unlike the formidable foe, this skeptical phenomenon stands before you, lips gaping and doe-like eyes widening in utter shock rendered by your presence. You only manage a quick scan of his donned baby pink bathrobe matched with pink bunny slippers until the both of you practically jump back into an ephemeral moment seemingly frozen in time.

Just as his phone rings, Jin quickly slams the door on you. His efforts prove fruitless, however, once you somehow manage to stick your foot in between his doorframe and the merciless force of his, which fortunately comes to an abrupt stop before your potential stop to the emergency room. There are trivial incidents like these—when he ignores the itch to tease you on the days you wear a frown or when he reluctantly chooses to lose an argument although you are very clearly in the wrong—that you bestow him the honorable badge of consideration… but the stubborn part of you theorizes he’s just trying to avoid a hefty hospital fee.

“Ahem, ahem,” the boy feigns a cough into his phone, “Taehyung, can’t you tell I’m sick?”

Scoffing into the air, you call out loudly, “sick enough to slam the door so hard—”

“—ahem,” he shoots you a death glare, “sorry, I’m just so very sick. Can’t talk. Need my beauty sleep. Bye—”

“—beauty sleep?! You? Beauty?”

It’s almost impossible to hold in your cackles; in fact, it takes you only a split second to surrender to the crackling fireworks of your laughter. The quip’s effect is shortly lived, however, when his unusual lengthy silence has you gradually settling into the cold winter air beside him. With his eyes glaring at you from underneath the dampened locks of his bangs clearly fresh out of the shower, it’s nearly impossible to deny the tiniest thought that flashes across your mind.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Jin’s pretty damn hot.

“Are you here to tease me or what?” he retorts, burying the phone into the fluff that is his robe. “I’m not in the mood.”

“What? Pshhh,” you wave a dismissive spare hand, “silly, no!”

“Then?” he quirks a brow whilst slowly guarding himself behind the door. “Are you here to watch me wither on my deathbed?”

“No, will you please just let me in? I’m freezing here. I heard you were sick and classes just became too quiet without you—” and when the boy remains unconvinced by your pleas, you let out a loud sigh as your hand raises to reveal a bag of much needed warm soup “—I have food.”

He immediately swings the door wide open, “come right on in.”

“Wow, so you’re not in the mood for me but you’re in the mood for food?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rolling your eyes at his 90 degree bow, you march your way into his halls and directly to the kitchen as you have done so in the many times you had unfortunately been paired with the most self-absorbed classmate for a group project. At this point, you know his everything like the back of your hand. From his house and his obsession with pink to his hobbies and his quirky dialogue, you, his sworn nemesis, probably know him even better than his friends… and oddly enough, you take pride in that—although you’ll never admit it.

“So,” you say nonchalantly as you set out the utensils on his kitchen island, “what could possibly be going on in that peculiar mind of yours?”

“Peculiar? Aw, did Y/N just call me unique?” he snorts. “I said I wasn’t in the mood for you, not anything else.”

“Okay, so,” you gesture for him to dig in despite the evident hesitation in his eyes once he seats himself across from you, “why me specifically?”

“Cause—” he stares at you confidently but struggles to spill before playing with his spoon “—cause something’s been on my mind.”

You flash a cheeky grin, “you mean I’ve been on your mind?”

“What?!” he almost springs from his seat in absolute denial, leaning forward across the counter enough for you to take a step back. “No! Wooow, that’s just… that’s… preposterous!”

“Alright, alright, I was just joking,” you raise two merciful hands but leave the latter half of the sentiment to yourself—because who even uses the word preposterous nowadays? Your silence, however, rightfully ends when you notice him constantly probing around at the congee, as if looking for something lurking in the soup. “Don’t worry, Jin, I didn’t poison it.”

“Ah,” he nods, thereby confirming your completely accurate reading of his mind.

When another second passes and you’re finally at a loss for how to prolong a conversation with Jin, you subtly join in on his silent nods; but with each succeeding nod, you begin to notice his cheeks gradually burning a flush shade of pink much stronger than his robe.

“Jin,” you frown, “are you okay? Your face is turning really red—”

“—it’s probably the steam from the bowl,” he blurts, eyes quickly averting to his bowl before downing a big spoonful of soup into his perpetually ravenous stomach, leaving you little to no time left for you to retort. An unsettling silence follows—an undeniable rarity between the rowdy atmosphere between you two—and you begin to wonder what exactly are you staying silent for.

You can’t possibly be… waiting for his reaction to your cooking, are you? Why does it even matter to you? Why did the flow of things become so awkward? And why is he so… jumpy? Something must be definitely off today, but, oddly enough, you don’t exactly mind this change of pace from your usual bickering comedy duo selves.

Whatever it is, the silence is deafening and you swear he can even hear you gulp.

“Did you…” he scrunches his brows and sets his spoon to the bowl with a clink, “...did you cook this?”

“Yeah, I did,” you follow suit with a frown, “is there something wrong with it…?”

“Yeah, no, of course you did,” he leans back into his seat with a loud huff and a cross of the arms, “you added too much salt.”

“Hey! What’re you imply—”

“—but,” he cocks his head, frowning as he drowns himself deep in his nonsensical thoughts, “it just doesn’t make sense��”

“Hello? Earth to Jin?” you wave a hand across his lost gaze that remains affixed to his mystery of a meal. “What are you going on about now?”

“There’s too much salt in this soup. So, theoretically,” his two parallel hands tap the table sequentially, as if marking some sort of a complex timeline, “this should be a terrible meal… but…”

“But…?”

It takes everything in Jin to squeeze the grand reveal out of his zipped lips and very reluctantly so.

“But… why does it taste so good?” The utter concentration in his dartlike eyes and sheer conviction in his nearly convincing albeit silly argument makes it almost sound like he’s questioning himself, especially when he continues rambling without your response—although, really, you had nothing but a flabbergasted look. “Everything you make should theoretically taste bad but why, when it’s you and only you, does it taste… so good? It makes me—” he clutches his chest dramatically, but noticeably on the opposite side of where his heart should’ve been, and locks a quizzical, almost desperate gaze with you “—so warm and fuzzy inside?”

“You mean your heart?” you point at his chest. “It’s on the opposite side, Jin.”

“And why,” he gasps for breath like a mad man, an emotionally mad and a mentally mad man, “why do I always let you tease me? Why do I let you win? I’m Jin, Kim Seokjin, for God’s sake! I never lose! And the most confusing part of it is: why do I always supposedly smile whenever I argue with you?!”

“Oh, can confirm, you definitely do that.”

He points an accusatory finger at you, “you do, too!”

“What?” you gawk. “Do not!”

“Taehyung said so!”

“I do?”

The both of you challenge the other in a stare off, eventually and silently admitting a mutual defeat to the subtle nagging side of you that had always taken note of that true albeit irking fact.

“It just doesn’t make sense…” he begins pacing back and forth with a finger to his pursed lips. “I never had problems with my beauty sleep until I met you… I never lowered my food standards to such devastating levels until you started feeding me… I never enjoyed having someone trying to get under my skin until you came into my life… it all doesn’t make sense. The only possibility I can narrow it down to is—”

“—wait, Jin, are you—”

“—is it all cause I like you?!”

The both of your jaws drop open, possibly to the floor, staring at the other as if whatever had slipped from his mouth was the most preposterous thing he had ever suggested! In retrospect and to the general public, you know you should have seen this coming from a mile away. It’s impossible not to acknowledge the several times the lines between a vigorous argument and a flirty quarrel became blurred; but to you, the offensive enemy participating in a never-ending duel with the infamous Kim Seokjin, there’s nothing you could’ve done to anticipate this confession pulled out of thin air.

Did you like it?

The possibility of being something more than a fervent pair of enemies and a questionable pair of friends?

Your mind says it’s unsure, but your smile says much more.

You have to get out of this house, anywhere but here before the opposing enemy catches onto his advancement.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’re you smiling at? You’re the reason I’ve been losing sleep!” he warns sternly, pointing a finger at you whilst you gather your things. “Hey, you must be the reason I’m sick right now! Take accountability!”

“You mean I’m the reason why you’re lovesick now?” you stick a tongue out as you head out the kitchen and you can’t help but laugh at the way he follows like a lost puppy. “What? You want me to make more of my terrible food in return?”

“What? No, shut up! Hey, hey, hey!” he stutters over his own scramble of words, watching you pacing around his front entrance and calling out to you from the hallway. “Where are you going? I think I just confessed to you? No, I’m pretty sure I just did!”

You shrug, “and?”

“And what’s your answer?” he throws his hand in the air, as if his mental stability depended on your very response. “Is it a yes or no? Do you like me, too?”

“Umm… I don’t know,” you hum, “I’ll let you know over dinner? At 6?”

His eyes glimmer with hope, “d-dinner?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a cheeky grin before quipping, “hey, why’s your cheek so red?”

A loud huff of his follows your series of cackles and you can hear his last remark that has you undeniably smiling from ear to ear even through the closed door behind you.

“Damn it, you know it’s cause I like you!”

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yesokaythatsfine69 · 3 years

Text

The Beach (Levi Ackerman x reader)

Description: During the beach scene in attack on titan. I changed this scene a bit because I felt it could be more light hearted and more fun after the cut. So be aware that it may not be that exact scene (in terms of what gets said) but roughly the same idea.

Characters: Y/n, Levi, Hange, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Sasha, Connie

Pov: third person

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and just chill vibes.

A/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEVI ACKERMAN! Hello! As of right now I'll be focusing the next several pieces on AOT. This is the third and the final piece I'll be writing about Levi. Feel free to request any Levi Ackerman writings at any time though. Have a good read!

Word Count:

Song suggestion: This has nothing to do with this piece but I've been jamming to Judas by Lady Gaga so if ur not a nerd listen to it.

*none of the Gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker

The dust that Scout's horses picked up enclosed around them, swallowing them up in a thick cloud of brown. The air was similarly thick around them.

Her hands were shaking, clutching the reigns of her horse, pulling them close to her chest. Y/n wasn't scared though. The things she'd experienced in the almost four years since she'd joined the scouts had changed what the concept of fear was for her. She felt tense- anxiety ridden. She felt like something was about to happen, and the way Eren spoke- it definitely was.

They passed a wall, and Eren's voice cut through the long silence. "I'm sure of it. This is the place where they turned the Eldians titan, which means just up there."

He beckoned them on, rushing his horse forward. Armin swallowed harshly, his eyes meeting y/n's for a beat. They shared a look, that displayed their mutual concerns before it broke.

Y/n had kept close to Armin, whose presence often calmed her. It was strange, but Armin never hid his emotions or disguised his fear (something her friends did so often.) And there was comfort in that. It made her feel less vulnerable.

Levi often teased her for that- but she knew he respected their friendship. Y/n looked to where he rode ahead of her. His hands were steady, expression focused. It unnerved her how he could be so calm.

She blinked away her focus, returning her gaze back to looking straight ahead. Eren led the group to what appeared to be a cliff, and when they reached the top...they saw.

The group seemed to all stop at once, realizing what they found. It was silent, except for the blowing of the waves before them. It was water- the ocean. They all stared, stunned.

Sasha and Connie had mutual expressions of open mouth wonder. Y/n just stared, aghast. Eren on the other hand looked unsurprised and almost bored.

One by one they slipped off the backs of their horses, most rolling up their pant legs and trodding into the water.

Y/n did a little dance in the water, laughing as Connie playfully splashed Sasha in the eyes. Sasha screamed in pain, "my eyes!" After she recovered, she splashed Connie back. Or tried to. At the last second Connie ducked and the salty sea spray hit y/n dead in the face instead.

"Sasha!" Her friend giggled sheepishly. Y/n tackled her into the water, the two becoming completely soaked. Connie chuckled at their antics, pointing his index finger at them with his right hand and keeping his left to his chest. The two girls shared a mischievous look which caused Connie's laughter to die out immediately.

"Take him down!" "Hiya!" Working in sync the two tackled him into the water. The three resurfaced and giggled at each other's soaked expressions. "It's so salty!" Jean was a few paces ahead of them and had just drank some of the water.

"Jean what the fuck. You really need to stop putting things into your mouth if you don't know what's in them." Y/n stood up, twisting her hair to relieve it of some water. Raising a brow, Jean leaned towards her. "Says the girl deep diving into it. Armin says there's nothing in here but salt anyway, and besides someone was bound to drink from here. I just saved them the extra hassle." Y/n flicked water at him. "How gallant of you."

Eren's monologue interrupted them then, they way he sounded close to tears, his voice creaking at the last sentence begged for their concentration. "Will we finally be free?" No one spoke, whatever light mood that existed now diminished.

"way to kill the mood Jaeger." Jean muttered, but he seemed just as solemn as Eren. "Don't worry, I'll lighten it up." Y/n shoved Jean down, and into the water. He landed with a surprised yelp and everyone turned, broken out of their private misery.

"Really y/l/n!" Jean spat, his cheeks dusted with blush. Y/n giggled, until she was cut off by Jean grabbing her and pulling her down into the water. "Shit!" She gasped out, landing in the water beside him.

"Are you serious! Jean, I just rang out my hair!" Jean opened his mouth to retort when sasha and Connie interrupted, shouting "Dog pile!" Jean and Y/n's eyes widened. "No!" "Wait-!" As Kenny once said, kaboom.

Now, all four of them were completely soaked, but none of them really cared. They bursted out laughing, each pointing at one another in amusement. The reflex seemed almost unnatural- it'd been so long since her last belly laugh. Connie, Sasha, and Jean felt similar and the tears they shed weren't just from their chuckles, but something deeper.

Y/n left the three to splash each other, waddling over to Armin, Mikasa, and Eren. Eren still looked off into the horizon but the tenseness in his shoulders seemed lighter. "What do you have there, Armin." She spoke softly to her friend, marveling at the shell he had gently lying in his palms. "Some sort of shell..." His gaze met hers. "I'm sure there have to be hundreds here." Y/n smiled.

"Did you think it'd be like this? Big, breezy, and beautiful?" Armin looked up, looking beyond Eren. "Maybe something close...I just never expected to actually see it...let alone feel it." They shared another look before they turned to Mikasa. She had gotten closer to Eren, but her gaze was in the water. She was kicking at it, her expression unreadable.

"hmmm." Y/n hummed, tapping her chin. She took off, running past Eren and to the left of him. "Hey! Y/l/n, don't go out too far!" Levi called after her. At the left edge, she stopped, bending down and searching fervently in the waters.

"There must be hundreds..."she mumbled to herself, brow furrowed in concentration. "Ah hah!" She straightened, a single white shell lying in the palm of her hand. She ran back, to armin, mikasa, and Eren. She skidded to a stop directly in front of Mikasa, who gave her an amused look.

Y/n dropped to a knee, sticking up her palm. "For my favorite Ackerman!" "Oi!" Levi grunted from behind her and Mikasa blushed. "Thank you, y/n." The young girl smiled, gently picking up the shell. "You are my favorite y/l/n." Y/n crossed her arms. "I'm the only y/l/n." Mikasa smiled a bit brighter.

Eren had turned towards them, snapping out of his gaze from the unusual commotion. He had watched the two interact and the way Mikasa had gently lifted the shell and just as gently cradled it caused the corner of his lips to upturn.

Y/n noticed. "I can find you one too, Eren. Although I'm afraid finding one as pretty as Armin's is impossible and thus out of the question." Eren softened and shook his head. "No, thank you, y/n." She stood up from her position, and was immediately wrapped in a quick hug from Mikasa.

"Oh! What's this?" Hanje lifted something reminiscent of a burnt rock from the water, gently rubbing her fingers over it. Y/n drew closer, allowing Hanje to explain all of the oddities she found. Y/n nodded along, only half understanding what her friend was ranting about.

Finally Hanje gasped with delight- cutting herself off. "there's more over here!" She pranced away from y/n, pausing several steps away and bending down to search for more.

Finally y/n turned to Levi, who had already been watching her. He seemed so out of place it was funny. His arms were crossed and he looked disinterested...but y/n knew that he was just uncomfortable. They watched each other, taking their differences in.

Really Levi couldn't believe how different two people could be. There y/n stood, a breeze sifting through her hair, her entire outfit completely soaked, and a stupid grin on her face. She was some brat- he'd admit it.

"You're going to get sick, y/n." She smiled, wading through the low tide to where he stood. "You'd love the chance to take care of me." "Tch, I deal with you enough as is." The two had shortened the distance between each other.

The wind ruffled his undercut. "It's a lot less scary than it looks." Y/n gently nudged him with her shoulder. "I'm not scared." Levi gave her a sharp look and anyone one else would've slinked away, but y/n wasn't anyone else- especially not to Levi.

Gently she took his hand in hers, squeezing it softly. He narrowed his eyes, the silver orbs twinkling against the sunset. He interlaced his fingers with her own though, his deep admiration for y/n often undermined his "tough guy" resolve.

Y/n smiled at him, "Okay old man are you going to roll up those pants or will I have to?" Levi sighed, grumbling under his breath as he bent down. "If I get sick from this-" she rolled her eyes. "Levi it's water. The thing you bathe in, clean with, drink. You will not get sick."

He pulled a sock off. "Tch, I once saw you find a piece of uneaten bread hidden behind books in the library, and watched you eat it without question. I don't believe anything you say about what's healthy and what's not, brat." Y/n helped him fold his socks neatly next to his shoes. "That was one time!" He paused. "And it's scarred into my memory."

Again, y/n rolled her eyes. However, the smile on her never even flinched. She grabbed Levi's hand and yanked him forward. He gasped, but y/n only sped up. "Oi, oi, oi, wait! You're going to fast, we'll-" They splashed into the water, splashing it up to their faces.

Levi's eyes were wide, and he seemed absolutely at a loss for what to do with himself. Finally he met her gaze, and saw how she looked at him. Levi felt his cheeks flush. "Tch, fine it's not as bad as I thought." He turned to leave, but she yanked him back to her.

"hey, hey, hey mateo, mateo." She pulled him so that his side was resting against her, he turned back to y/n. "Stay awhile." She said gently. Her smile had changed now, and Levi noticed. His shoulders relaxed. He realized now why this was so important to her. This could be the last chance they had.

Then she kicked water at him.

"Y/n!" She laughed and backed deeper into the water. "You may be humanity's greatest titan fighter..." She began to move her arms around wildly. "But I am humanity's greatest Levi Ackerman fighter." Levi sighed, unamused. "You got water on my pants!" He moved towards her.

"The target approaches, seemingly irritated." She backed away. "Tch, Seemingly?" Levi's hand balled into fists. "He's going deeper into enemy territory, what will y/n do?" "Y/n should run." Levi got closer.

He jumped at her, and she tackled him, the two landing into the water. Once again y/n became instantly soaked, and Levi was now in the same boat, wet completely from head to toe. "It is salty!" Levi gasped out, his arms still wrapped around y/n. "Did you think we were all lying before?" Y/n laughed, watching as Levi struggled to get salty water from his eyes.

He pulled his fist from his eye, finally looking at y/n. She was soaked, probably more than he was, but she was as radiant as could be, her eyes shining, her smile wide, and her hair blowing softly. He stared at her several seconds, lost in how beautiful she was. Sometimes he had a difficult time believing that someone like her could ever be interested in someone like him. "I love you." He clutched her tighter to him.

Her face became more serious, and she closed her mouth. Y/n gently put a wet thumb on his cheek. "I love you too, Levi." They stayed there, in that moment together.

"and yet I'm only your second favorite Ackerman." Y/n sighed, going to pull away, but Levi grabbed her and to her surprise he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Levi and y/n turned, Connie, Sasha, Jean, Hanje, Eren, Armin, and Mikasa all stood over them.

"None of your business, brats." Levi said, crossing his arms. The group shared a glance. "Oh, no, guys wait-" Connie, Sasha, Jean, Hanje, and Mikasa attacked, jumping to tackle them, splashing and creating a mini hurricane.

Armin and Eren watched, still standing. Armin was smiling, whilst Eren's expression still remained cautious. The tension he had carried moments before abandoned him though, and it seemed as though now for the small moment they had, they all realized- only now could they truly live it.

Today was today and that was all they had for certain.

"There's water in a place where water should definitely not be!"

"Don't make me drown you!"

"Who's foot is this?"

"What's gonna happen when we leave? Will we still be wet?"

"GODDAMNIT I KEEP SWALLOWING IT! WHY DOES IT BURN!"

"you all are no match for my skills- I am unconquerable!"

"Yeah, I'm never doing this again."

Armin turned to Eren. "Sometimes... sometimes I believe that it'll never get better than this." He took a breath and Eren put a hand on his shoulder. "Right now...I think...I think you may be right, Armin."

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A/n: hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this, feel free to request more Levi Ackerman or to give critism. Merry Christmas!

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#levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #aot imagines #aotc #aot x reader #aot memes #aot manga #aot headcanons #aotearoa #x reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #happy birthday levi

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

A fic prompt if you'd like: Mickey opening up to Ian about details of his childhood and the abuse he suffered. In 11x06 after Terry is brought home Mickey says he could do anything to him now like "piss on him and let him air dry" and "use his mouth as an ash tray". To me it sounds like those are examples of things that Terry has done to him.

Content warning: child abuse

the things he did

“You’re so much better than that.”

Ian’s words echoed in Mickey’s head while the cooked dinner together. They resonated as they sat side by side at the table to eat, shoulders brushing, rings glinting in the harsh lights of the kitchen. They played on loop as they retired to the living room, alone for once with everyone else out for the night who knew where, sitting close on the sofa as mindless sitcoms droned on from the television.

“What if I’m not?” Mickey asked abruptly, when it got to be too much.

Ian turned to look at him, face full of shadows in the blue light from the tv.

“What if you’re not what?” he questioned, confused, and Mickey shifted away from him, bringing a knee onto the sofa between them to face his husband.

“Not better than that,” he answered, and saw Ian realize what he was talking about. It was in the way his eyes softened in that harsh light, the way his lips turned down at the thought that Mickey might question himself.

He always took it personally when Mickey did that.

“You are, Mickey,” Ian reassured instantly, just as expected. “I know you are.”

Mickey shook his head, looking down. His fingers scratched at the label of his beer, tearing it from the condensation-wet bottle.

“You don’t,” he said quietly. “No one fucking does.” He shook his head, looked up again into Ian’s green eyes. “You don’t just come away from a life like that and turn out alright.”

Ian looked like he wanted to argue. His chin was already pushing out, his lips pressed tight and thin.

Mickey didn’t give him a chance.

“If you knew half the things he did to us, man,” Mickey laughed humorlessly, averting his gaze again. “He should be on death row right now, not sitting next door with a roof over his fuckin’ head.”

“Tell me,” Ian prompted softly, but Mickey shook his head.

“You don’t want to hear this shit, Ian.” At least, Mickey didn’t want him to hear it. Didn’t want him to think of Terry when he looked at Mickey’s face.

“I do though,” Ian countered easily. “Wanna know everything about you, Mick.”

He was always saying things like that. Always trying to challenge the barriers Mickey put up.

But Mickey always challenged his, too, so he supposed that it was a fair enough trade.

“Fuckin’ sap,” Mickey said anyway, glancing up at Ian’s face and down again. “Gonna change what you think of me,” he added more quietly, and bit his lip at how pathetic it made him sound.

“Mickey,” Ian said. That was it, just his name. But it made things better, somehow. “Nothing can change how I feel about you,” Ian went on. “Besides, I was there for some it, remember?”

Mickey snorted, and took a swig of beer.

“How could I fuckin’ forget?”

They sat in silence for a long moment, only the sound of the clock ticking behind them and the strains of an annoying jingle on the TV filling the room. Ian didn’t scoot any closer, didn’t ask Mickey again. He just sat in his presence, calming sipping his own drink, and waited Mickey out.

It was a technique that never failed him.

“It wasn’t too bad when our mom was there,” Mickey started out of nowhere. “She was strung out most of the time, but she cared, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair, scratched his neck. “At least in her own way.”

“And when she wasn’t?” Ian prompted gently. Not pushing, just providing a guiding hand.

Mickey shook his head. “When she wasn’t, things really went to hell.”

A beat. The TV had changed over to some new infomercial, an obnoxiously eager voice droning on about the ‘next best thing’, whatever that was. Mickey ignored it. They both did.

“Iggy and Colin were already used to it, I think,” Mickey expanded. “They were around more the first few times she left, when Mandy and I were still in school. They knew what was coming when she was gone for good.”

Ian made a sound, deep in his throat. He set down his glass on the coffee table, overlapping the multitude of condensation rings that already marred the surface, and grabbed up the carton of cigarettes that lay there. He lit it with a spare lighter, took a drag, and passed it over to Mickey’s waiting hand.

“What about you?” he asked casually. Too casually for the way his fingers shook when Mickey took the cigarette from him.

Mickey scoffed. “Me?” he repeated, then took a drag himself. He held it in as long as he could, breathed it out in a plume of smoke that hid the new wetness in his eyes.

“I was a naive little shit whose mamma hadn’t warned him how bad Terry could get,” Mickey said, then took another hit.

“The first time he hit me—really hit me, not just a cuff around the ears for mouthing off—he laid me out flat on the kitchen floor. I had eaten the last side of bacon, see,” he explained. “Mandy made it for me after school. And Terry’d been savin’ it for after whatever run he was out on.”

Ian stayed silent.

“Couldn’t tell him it was Mandy’s fault,” Mickey went on. “He didn’t care that she was a girl.” Mickey flicked the ashes off the end of the cigarette, watched them fall. Watched the tiny burns it made on the knee of his jeans. “Didn’t care until she was useful.”

Ian swallowed hard at the reminder of what Terry had done to his best friend. But this was about Mickey right now, not Mandy, and as much as she was entrenched in that part of his life, it wasn’t what he needed to get out.

So Ian scooted closer, brushed ashes off Mickey’s knee and rested his hand there, waiting.

Mickey stared at the point of contact, then at his cigarette again.

“You know he used to burn me with these?” Mickey asked abruptly, waving the lit stick in his hand. “Think it was an accident, the first time. Caught me suckin’ on a candy one when I was a kid, told me I needed to man up. Tried to stick a lit one in my mouth, but he was drunk. Used the wrong end.”

He tongued the corner of his lips. “Couldn’t eat for two days while it was healin’.” He chuckled, shook his head. “I was suck a fuckin’ wimp back then, man.”

“Not the worst thing he’s put in my mouth, though,” Mickey continued, on a roll now. His voice was faint, full of that absent quality it got when he wasn’t really there. When he was reliving his nightmares in real time.

“Stumbled into my room more than once looking for the toilet,” he confided. “Forgot there was a second door, I think. He usually just went in the corner, but he got me on my bed more than once.”

Mickey paused, looked up at Ian through his lashes.

“You know why I don’t breathe through my mouth anymore?”

Ian shook his head.

“Wakin’ up to the taste of piss will teach you that trick real quick.”

The cigarette was gone, now, and his beer was only dregs. Mickey stared at a space over Ian’s shoulder, breathing heavy, refusing to let his eyes spill over.

He was done crying for the kid that let his dad walk all over him. He was done crying for Terry. He was done with all of it.

And he really, really wished that were true.

“Frank locked me in the basement, once,” Ian stated suddenly, taking the empty beer bottle out of Mickey’s hand and placing it with his own glass on the table. “During one of my mom’s episodes, when she wouldn’t get out of bed.”

Mickey just looked at him. Let Ian take his hand, turn it over to hold it in his.

“He told Fiona I was at a sleepover, and she believed him—forgot I didn’t really have any friends.” Ian grinned, then, but it was empty, almost sharp.

You had friends, Mickey wanted to say. You had family. You had me.

But the first and the last were lies, and the middle wasn’t always a blessing.

“Lip found me two days later,” Ian told him. “He got suspicious when he saw Frank taking food down there; he was an asshole, but he wasn’t gonna starve a kid on purpose, at least.”

Ian laughed, and rubbed his free hand along the leg of his pants.

“He just didn’t want to look at me.”

Mickey gripped his hand tighter.

“Why are you tellin’ me this?” he asked. “It’s not a fuckin’ competition, man.”

“I’m just saying,” Ian pressed on. “We don’t have to be our dads, Mickey.”

Oh. And there it was. Ian, his husband, ever the optimist.

“What if we don’t get that choice?” Mickey questioned. He’d seen it often enough, after all. Milkoviches that tried to get out, tried to do better for themselves and their kids.

But they always ended up back where they started. They always ended up under Terry’s roof, and under his thumb, just waiting for another chance to break free.

Ian shrugged, and pulled him closer, tucking Mickey’s head into the space between his own neck and shoulder. Mickey made a grumbling sound, but went without protest, tilting his head so that his nose rested near Ian’s collarbone.

“Then I guess we have to kill each other,” Ian stated blandly.

Mickey gave a stunned, barked laugh, breath hitching and releasing in a wash of hot air over Ian’s neck.

“Ian, what the fuck?” he managed, but Ian only gripped him tighter, pressing his face into skin so that he couldn’t speak.

“It’s for the greater good, Mick,” Ian assured him. “Mutually assured destruction, and all that, right?”

He ran a hand down Mickey’s back, scratching lightly.

“I lock you in a basement, you take me out,” he declared. “You piss on me—well, without my permission at least—”

“Ew, Ian, Jesus Christ—”

“I get to murder you in your sleep.” Ian pulled back just enough to look at him, Mickey meeting his eyes without a struggle this time. For all the macabre discussions, Ian’s eyes were bright.

“Deal?” Ian asked, and Mickey finally smiled.

“Yeah, alright, tough guy,” he agreed. “It’s a fuckin’ deal.”

#thanks for the prompt!#daily speedwrite #fanfic #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #tw: child abuse #angst #but they'll be okay

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guardianofrivendell · 3 years

Text

The Odd Ones Out

Kíli x OC (platonic)

Summary: Tullaina and Kíli were best friends from day one. Getting into a fight to the death together tends to do that to you. Of course, it wasn’t actually to the death, but Kíli kept insisting it had been a close call. This is the story of how their friendship started.

Warnings: bullying, young Kíli (Tullaina and Kíli are 34 and 33 in this one, which is the dwarven equivalent of a young teenager)

OC: Tullaina, you can read her character sheet here

A/N: My first oneshot with Tullaina! A big, massive thank you to @lathalea who helped me find the motivation to finish this and gave me the nudges and the kick to my butt that I needed to keep going! I love you! Also a thank you (and maybe an apology too) to @anjhope1 and @laurfilijames because they had to hear me nag and complain about this story over and over again :)

Kidizbuhâ. Friendship.

What exactly is friendship? What defines it? It’s something Tullaina always wondered about.

According to one of master Balin’s many books, it can be described as a state between two or more individuals, a mutual affection that is strictly platonic.

Your best friend is even more than that. They are that one special person who sticks with you no matter what. You talk about anything and everything, have fun together, comfort each other, and you accept one another with all their flaws. It’s almost like finding your One, but without the romantic love.

Tullaina had often dreamed of finding that one true friend...

Born and raised in the mountains of Ered Luin, she had a pretty normal childhood as a pebble. With only a few friends and a loving family, she was as happy as a young girl could be.

When she grew older, her friends’ appearance started to change.

They grew wider, more muscular and their facial hair started to grow out. Each of them turned into perfect examples of how a sturdy dwarf or dwarrowdam should look like.

Tullaina however stayed exactly the same. She grew in height, but kept her lanky figure. She filled out the appropriate places, but not as much as her friends or peers. Her freckles became more pronounced and the increase of birthmarks started to raise questions among those so-called ‘friends’. And on top of that, as if she couldn’t be ridiculed enough already, she lacked the pride of every Dwarf… facial hair. A fine layer of down hairs where her sideburns should be was all she could grow, and it was barely even visible.

There was no denying that she looked different than your average Dwarrowdam at that age.

And that’s when the teasing and bullying began.

One by one, she lost her friends, none of them wanted to be associated with the ‘elf child’ or khathzith, as they started calling her.

Everywhere she went, she could hear the dreaded word, whispered among the people of the Blue Mountains. And after a while, Tullaina started to believe them. Maybe she wasn’t a Dwarf after all?

No matter how many times her parents had tried to convince her she was of full Dwarven descent, a proud Longbeard, she never stopped asking whether what they said about her was true.

Maybe she was a late bloomer, like her mother sometimes said in an attempt to comfort her. When Tullaina’s tears had dried up, she usually told her daughter the story about her late auntie Marthosia whose beard only started to grow after she turned 30, and it turned out to be the most glorious beard of them all. The Dwarrows stood in line to ask for her courtship. And every time Tullaina would simply roll her eyes and thank her mother.

By the time she turned 30, there was still no trace of a beard or proper sideburns. Not that Tullaina had expected anything, but she couldn’t deny that there was a tiny sliver of hope left that maybe, maybe she was like auntie Marthosia after all.

Her mother eventually stopped telling the story and Tullaina had given up all hope. She started to isolate herself more, hardly leaving the safety of her home, losing herself in books and her own imagination.

The only time she would leave the house by herself was to visit the mines and bring her father his lunch when he forgot to bring it with him. Which happened a lot more than you would think. Tullaina suspected her father did this on purpose to get her out of the house more often, but she never said anything about it.

It was on one of those trips that she ran into Kíli for the first time...

Tullaina hurried through the small, slippery streets of the mountain city, her shawl wrapped securely around her head and neck, head down and eyes fixed on the ground.

She was on her way back from the mines having delivered her father’s lunch, but she’d dawdled when the baker’s cat had crossed her path. It wasn’t her fault she absolutely had to pet it, right?

So now she was in a hurry to get home. And she would have been there in a matter of minutes, if her ears hadn’t picked up the teasing laughter coming out of one of the dead-end side alleys.

On any other day she would have tucked her scarf a little tighter around her, bowed her head a little deeper to avoid any unwanted attention, and definitely walk a little faster.

But it turned out today wasn’t like any other day…

There could be many reasons as to why she felt the need to investigate further. Some would call it being adventurous, fate, maybe even Mahal’s will if you want. But for Tullaina it was her sense of injustice that drove her to the alley.

There was something familiar about the laughter that made her suspect this wasn’t just some friends having fun. She tiptoed towards the corner of the building and peeked around the corner.

Her curiosity often got the better of her and her mother used to warn (okay fine, she guaranteed it) that it would get her into serious trouble one day. Who knows, maybe her mother was right after all...

At the end of the dead-end alley she could see three dwarves, at first sight probably not much older than she was. It was almost comical how they were all so different but clearly looking like they were up to no good: you had the short one with flaming red hair, the muscles and then one who was fairly normal at first until he grinned and Tullaina could see he was missing a front tooth. These three dwarves practically screamed trouble.

They were all looking at a boy who was standing in the middle of the trio.

The boy had shoulder length brown hair with no braids. He was taller than the others and had a slender build. He was wearing a simple dark blue tunic and black trousers, and his unruly hair framed a kind face with large brown eyes. No beard.

And that’s precisely what they were bullying him about...

Tullaina could hear the insults they were throwing at him, she flinched because she knew them all too well - having heard them many times before - and something in her snapped. Before she realised what she was doing, she called out to them.

“Oi!”

All four heads turned towards her.

Well, that’s what you get for calling out to them, she thought. Now what? Quick, say something so they’ll know you mean business!

“Leave him alone!”

Oh wow, she thought, almost rolling her eyes at herself. Great choice, that’ll make them tremble with fear!

The boys started snickering, excited about the prospect of another victim. One of them grabbed the beardless one by the shoulder and pushed him forward.

The Muscles came up towards Tullaina and it took all her restraint not to take a step back.

“Aww Kíli, look at that, your girl is here to save you!”

“I said, leave him alone,” she repeated, trying to look confident by straightening her back and balling her fists at her side, but her voice gave her away. It earned her a chuckle from the dwarf in front of her.

“No, this can’t be his girl,” he sneered, removing her scarf, “Look at her face, not a hair in sight! It’s the same babyface as our dear Kíli. Who would’ve thought there were more of you khathzith?” (young Elves)

Oh, he should not have said that!

The familiar insult triggered something in her and her hands moved on instinct. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed with all the strength she had.

It took him by surprise, he didn’t have the time to brace himself and he fell on his back in the dirt with a grunt. Mistake number one.

One of his companions, the one with the flaming red hair lunged forward and pushed her in turn. Tullaina didn’t stand a chance with the force he was using against her lanky figure and immediately fell to the ground. She cried out when her arm scraped against a small rock. Mistake number two.

They started laughing at her, until the one who was holding Kíli cried out in pain.

When Tullaina looked up she saw him clutching his nose with both of his hands, tears springing in his eyes.

Before she could figure out what had happened, Kíli threw himself on the redhead with a loud cry of “Du Bekâr!” and something about not laying your hands on a lady. Or... that he shouldn’t have handed him a baby?

It wasn’t her fault that it was difficult to understand him with all the shouting and the curses being thrown around. If her mother was near she would’ve covered her ears. Luckily for Tullaina she wasn’t, at least now she could learn a thing or two for future use!

But this actually was the moment she should have decided it was time to go. Mistake number three.

They were all distracted and not paying attention to her whatsoever, the short one was still busy crying over his nose, the redhead was wrestling with Kíli and Muscles just stood by and watched it all happen for some reason. Really, what was stopping her from running? Her more reasonable side was yelling at her to go home. Let the boys fight it out themselves!

But she couldn’t leave this Kíli to himself now, could she? After he so valiantly defended her? No one ever stood up for her before, and here he was literally fighting for her honor.

No, she couldn’t leave him…

When Muscles finally noticed Tullaina was still there, he came towards her with a loud roar - or what should’ve been a roar, it was more a gargle really - and the decision was made for her. She was going to fight.

Well… It seemed her mother was right after all. Her curiosity got her into trouble.

One of the last things Dís had expected to see when she opened her door was a pair of young Dwarves, battered and bruised. Well… half of the duo was her youngest son, so their disheveled state shouldn’t come as a big surprise.

“Amad, this is Tullaina,” Kíli introduced his new friend with a wide smile, wiping a drop of blood off his chin with the back of his hand like it was the most natural thing to do. His left eye was a little swollen and starting to bruise. And still he was as chipper as ever.

Tullaina waved timidly, getting a bit uncomfortable. She had recognized the dwarrowdam as soon as she opened the door and suddenly it had clicked in her head who Kíli was. She knew how this might look and the last thing she wanted was to get in more trouble. Typical of her to befriend a prince of all people…

“Nice to meet you, Tullaina.” Dís smiled kindly to let her know she wasn’t angry. It seemed to relax Tullaina a little, her shoulders slacked and she returned her smile.

After the introduction Dís switched into full mother hen mode and ushered the two inside, so she could take care of their injuries and hopefully get some answers to the many questions that flooded her mind. For one, who Tullaina was. As far as she knew, she hadn’t seen the girl before. And Dis took pride in knowing everyone in Ered Luin.

But getting the information out of these two turned out to be a lot harder than Dís had initially thought.

She told them to sit down at the dinner table while she got everything she needed to clean their wounds.

At first sight it was only Kíli’s busted lip that needed attention, their bruises would heal on their own.

When the only daughter of Thraín asked her youngest how he and his new friend got their bruises and Kíli his busted lip, he only shrugged his shoulders.

Kíli clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

And that worried her, because if there was one thing Kíli liked to do, it was talking her ears off about what he had done or discovered while out with Fíli or by himself.

She guessed he probably stood up for Tullaina and had valiantly defended or even rescued her, in which case Dís wouldn’t hear the end of it. So the silence of her youngest was rather alarming, to say the least.

In the end, it was Tullaina who reluctantly explained to her that she stumbled upon Kíli and a couple of other young Dwarves, who felt the need to mock the young prince.

Dís’ eyes widened and her hand that was cleaning the dried blood around his mouth, froze midair. The cut on his lip had finally stopped bleeding, and it looked a lot worse than it actually was.

“Kíli, that is still no reason to start a fight! And certainly not in the presence of a lady.”

Kíli straightened his back at the scolding of his mother, but didn’t contradict her.

“He didn’t start the fight, Lady Dís, I did,” Tullaina answered before Kíli could stop her.

The large Dwarrowdam frowned, and she absentmindedly started stroking her beard. She was happy Kíli seemed to have made a friend who was not Fíli, but if she turned out to be a troublemaker…

Her sons definitely didn’t need help in that department.

“Now why did you do that, nadanê?” she asked her. (my child) “Amad, please just let it go,” Kíli said before Tullaina had the chance to explain. “I wasn’t asking you, Kíli.”

Tullaina hesitated. What if lady Dís blamed her for his injuries, or getting him into the fight in the first place?

Her new friend obviously didn’t want his mother to know about the bullying and she understood that better than anyone. Tullaina herself had kept a lot from her mother, the things she had to go through, all the insults, the name calling, the laughter…

But she also knew her new friend needed someone he could talk to. When it gets too bad, you need to vent, let everything out. And since she wasn’t sure she’d be welcome again in Lady Dís’ house after today, it might be better to tell his mother what had happened.

“They were teasing and bullying him about stuff they used to bully me for as well,” she finally caved.

“And what might that be?”

“Our lack of dwarven features,” Tullaina answered, as she lowered her eyes. “I’ve been bullied and made fun of for years because I don’t have a proper beard, and don’t look like most other dwarrowdams… So you see, my Lady, I couldn’t just stand there and watch. But they would not listen! So I pushed one of them and started the fight.”

“I see,” Dis hummed, before she placed her hands on Kili’s and Tullaina’s knees. “You did what you felt was right, and that is very admirable. Nadanê, never let anyone make you feel inferior. No matter what you look like, what you have or do not have. It’s what’s inside that matters. You’re both courageous, headstrong and maybe a little reckless too, but that’s alright. That sounds like a true dwarf to me.”

Tullaina smiled in return. It wasn’t a lot different from what her own mother would say when she tried to comfort her, but somehow when Lady Dis said it, it added more weight to it.

“Now tell me about the fight?” Dis smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

Kíli’s head shot up and his eyes sparkled, and Dis knew that look all too well. Now she was going to hear every single detail about their little adventure.

“So I found myself surrounded by, I don’t know, ten, maybe twelve other dwarves-”

“Three. There were three Dwarves, Kíli,” Tullaina interrupted with a straight face.

“It’s not like I was counting them!” he said to Tullaina, before he turned to his mother again. “I was too busy fighting for my life!”

“I bet you were,” Dís chuckled.

Kíli explained how he was trying to find a way out so he could run home, but they wouldn’t let him.

“And then Tullaina showed up and she came to help me, Amad. She gave the biggest one a shove, can you believe?! But then one of the other dwarves pushed her to the ground! You and uncle always told me I should treat all dwarrowdams with respect, right? But I don’t think his parents told him, because why would he do that? Anyway, then Tullaina hurt her arm,” Kíli paused his rambling and grabbed Tullaina’s arm to show the scratch she got when she fell, but she immediately pulled her arm free and muttered something like ‘i’m fine, it’s nothing’. Dís made a mental note to clean it later.

“So I had to defend her honor! Fíli will be so proud of me when he hears about it, I punched that atnuzab right on the nose!” (prick)

“Then how did you get your lip cut and your eye so bruised?” his mother asked him, already knowing the answer, but playing along. It was better to let him continue his story, but it was Tullaina who cut in.

“It turned out the atnuzab knew how to hit back,” she grinned.

“And that’s when the fight really took off,” Kíli continued enthusiastically, a wide smile on his face.

While Dís took care of Tullaina’s arm, he explained everything in detail, waving his arms in excitement, while the girl filled in the blanks or corrected him, which happened surprisingly often.

Dís chuckled every time it happened. It was refreshing to see Kíli being reprimanded for not telling the truth or exaggerating by someone his own age. Who knows, maybe Tullaina will turn out to be a positive influence on her son and his vivid imagination?

“And then he ran off, crying about his bloody nose,” Kíli cackled, holding on to Tullaina’s shoulder to keep himself up since he was laughing so hard.

“Which I believe you gave him?” Dís commented.

“I did,” he said proudly, wiping a tear away. “A true warrior I was!”

“Or tried to at least, did you forget you tripped over your own feet? Twice?” Tullaina laughed, recalling both times she had to help him up before the bullies could get to him.

“I was creating a diversion!”

Tullaina raised an eyebrow at that in disbelief, but decided to let it slide.

Dís shook her head at their friendly banter and left for the kitchen, taking the bowl and the dirty rags with her.

Tullaina watched her leave and smiled to herself. Isn’t it strange how one hastily made decision had changed her entire day? It had been ages since she laughed this much, it was amazing how quickly she felt comfortable in Kíli’s company. Was this what true friendship felt like?

When she looked back at Kíli, she caught him already staring at her.

“What?” she asked with a frown.

“Thank you,” he said. “You came to help me and I’ll never forget that.”

Tullaina felt her face flush at how sincere he was, his big brown eyes looking at her intently.

“Don’t mention it,” she grinned, playing with her fingers in her lap.

They sat side by side in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, their hands tucked away under their thighs before Tullaina spoke up again.

“You know, I need to thank you too,” she said, bumping her shoulder against Kíli’s.

“Me? What for?”

“Defending my honor.”

Kíli gave her a broad smile and puffed out his chest. “It was the right thing to do. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.” He placed his hand on his heart to emphasize his words.

Tullaina believed him. Kíli seemed that kind of person who would rather follow his heart than his head, someone who would act on impulse before thinking about the possible consequences.

“Besides, friends take care of each other right?” he continued, pushing himself off the table.

Dís returned from the kitchen with two slices of cake in her hand.

“I believe you’ve more than deserved this,” she smiled. “A good fight works up quite an appetite.”

The two new friends eagerly accepted the treat, and while they were eating Dís watched them carefully. She had noticed how these two interacted with each other; as if they had been lifelong friends, even though they met mere moments ago. Yes, this wouldn’t be the last time she saw Tullaina. Dís was sure of it.

That reminded her of something…

“How come I haven’t seen you around, Tullaina?”

“I like to stay home, inside, where it’s safe,” the girl looked down in embarrassment and whispered. “There... there are no bullies there.”

“Then why were you even out there in the first place?” Kíli wondered.

“Kíli!” Dís chided him. She gave him a stern look but he didn’t even falter and looked at her expectantly.

Tullaina chuckled. She kind of liked Kíli’s cheekiness and lack of filter when he spoke. It was a nice change from the usual harsh words and sneers she had to hear from others.

“It’s fine. My adad works in the mines and I sometimes bring him his lunch,” she explained to Kíli.

“He does? I know where that is!” he said enthusiastically. “You know what? Next time you have to go there, I’ll go with you!”

“That’s a great idea, Kíli,” Dís agreed, she couldn’t be happier that her youngest had found a new friend. He was starting to get lonely now Fíli spent more time with Thorin. Tullaina might be exactly what he needed to stay out of trouble.

But Tullaina shook her head. “No, I can’t ask that of you! I’m-I’m sure you have much more important things to do.”

“Nonsense,” Dís waved her concern away. “You’re always welcome here, Tullaina.”

When Tullaina said her goodbyes - her mother will be worried sick by now - she had to promise Dís to come back the next day.

Kíli caught her off guard a bit when he hugged her, squeezing a lot harder than she expected him to.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, and then his eyes lit up and a face-splitting grin appeared.

“What?”

“I can’t wait for you to meet my brother!”

Kíli taglist: @elles-writing @sxperncturalimpala67

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If your name is scratched through, it means I couldn’t tag you! You might want to check your settings ;)

#Tullaina #Kili x OC #Kili #Ered Luin #Kili oneshot #My OC #Dwarf OC #The Hobbit imagine #The Hobbit fanfiction #The Hobbit #Kili x reader #Young!Kili #Young Kili #Dis #The life of dwarves #Guardianofrivendell oc #Tullaina x Kili #The Hobbit x reader #The Hobbit oneshot

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mooniefics · 3 years

Text

in the grand scheme of things [ 3 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 5.5k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warning : descriptions of alcohol and drug use

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 28 / 21 on ao3 —

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sasha 3:47 pm hey u down to party tonight?? jean told connie he could get us into another one of the azo parties again

you sighed at the sight of the notifications on your phone from its place on the passenger's seat, pensively drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. the most recent party of the most popular fraternity chapter on your campus you'd attended had been the last party you'd subjected yourself to attending—the halloween party where you'd gotten ditched out and subsequently cheated on. though you could admit that it had been fun in the moment, especially when you had caught the struggle between sasha and historia when she saw your roommate snap a picture of her kissing the standoffish sophomore that always helped her with her english lit homework, ymir, rather than the fraternity guy she was meant to be with.

the memory of that night, at least the time before you'd realized your boyfriend and his annoyingly attractive best friend were nowhere to be found, made you consider. classes did start back up next week, and the most eventful thing you'd done over the break was your quaint little family get-together for new year's eve—and your two rendezvous with zeke, meetings that you were slowly beginning to feel more and more skeptical about as time went on—and you were sure that your second semester would drown you in work just as much—if not more—than you'd had in your first semester. so as soon as you came to a stop at a red light, you picked your phone up to shoot her back a message, laughing to yourself when she replied instantly.

you 3:51 pm party on a wednesday? really?

sasha 3:51 pm come onnnn please??? i heard nikos gonna be there! ur rlly gonna make me go all alone??

so that was why she wanted to go, to see the foreign culinary major that somehow always managed to send her back to the dorm with a large plate of food and a blinding smile plastered on her face for at least the next hour. you were honestly surprised that they hadn't gotten together yet, considering how many common interests they'd shared.

a pleasant thought suddenly popped into your head, the thought that she was probably asking you because mikasa had already declined, meaning that she wouldn't be in attendance. armin was out in turkey with eren, ensuring his absence. that fact made you feel a bit less anxious about accepting sasha's invitation. you could catch up with the friends you'd been unable to see while you were off-campus—or too swamped with work to be able to reach out to—let loose one last time before you were trapped back in the monotonous cycle of working, sleeping, crying, and eating for the next couple months until spring break. your mind had been made up.

you 3:52 pm fine. i'll go as moral support. but no promises u won't have to babysit after you've had ur fun with nikolo this break has been rough for me lol

sasha 3:53 pm oh god my i loveyou so much already picking out our outfits

you chuckled to yourself, slipping your phone into the cupholder as the brake lights of the car in front of you flashed off and you eased your foot onto the gas. you made it back to the dorm relatively quickly, sasha more than elated to see you even though you didn't have any food to bring back for her. and just as her text message had read, she'd already laid out one of your nicer dresses and a set of heels that didn't absolutely kill your feet by the end of the night by your bed, digging through the closet with a pile of discarded clothes growing on the floor.

"thanks sash," you giggled, "but don't you think it's a little to be getting ready? what time's the party?"

"connie told me seven-thirty, but jean said for us to come an hour later so we aren't the only ones there." she spoke over her shoulder, huffing as she tossed another piece of clothing aside, "but i wanna look good! i'm gonna hop in the shower as soon as i find the right thing to wear."

holding out your dress before you, you frowned. it was simple, black and made of a sheer, clingy material with lace accents decorating the low neckline, thin straps that bared the entirety of your shoulders and a modest amount of cleavage. it was one of your favorites, but the half-healed bruises scattered across the skin that would be exposed by it wasn't ideal.

"oh, don't forget to take a cheap coat that you don't mind forgetting. it's kinda chilly out, and i always end up losing track of mine during the night."

you let out a breath of relief, remembering that covering up a bit more would be weather appropriate. "yeah, i'll wear a long-sleeved undershirt and something light on top." perfect.

you waited until sasha had gathered her toiletries and scurried off to the nearest bathroom to change clothes, feeling your face heat up at the thought of zeke, the initial deep pigmentation having faded out over the last two days but still a very visible shade of faint red. you were fully dressed upon your roommate's return, earning an excited slew of compliments from her as she wrapped up her hair in a towel and settled down beside you to get started on her makeup.

you were actually grateful for how early she'd insisted on getting ready considering how long she'd agonized over her eyeliner, or how many times she'd applied and removed her lashes, complaining that "something was off" or "it just didn't look right". your suggested time of arrival came in no time at all, and by then sasha was more than eager to start rushing you despite the pace she'd been moving at earlier.

"hurry!! if niko brings food, i don't wanna get there by the time it's all gone!" she whined, jiggling the doorknob to your room impatiently, "for the thanksgiving party, he brought a charcuterie board with all these nice cheeses on it and it was so good, he looked so happy watching me eat it, it was so cute!"

you chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, shoving the last of your things into your clutch, zipping up your phone in the small inner pocket to insure that you didn't drop it and forget on the floor of someone's house this time. "i'm sure that even if we got there late, he'd set aside plenty of food for you."

the walk to the fraternity's designated house was made much shorter by sasha's insistence, practically dragging you along by the wrist the whole way at a near jog. you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, knowing that you would have sasha, connie, and jean at the very least, but unaware as to what you would really do besides mill around. at the halloween party, you'd been able to play the variety of drinking games that had been set out for the guests with eren and his friends, but now you weren't entirely sure who to stick to for the majority of the night.

you didn't want to bother jean or connie after they'd gotten secured you an invite, and you were sure that sasha was expecting to be able to spend some time alone with the guy she'd came to see in the first place, meaning you'd have to spend a majority of the night alone, or the unfavorable option of mingling with unfamiliar people. but you realized that was a pill you'd have to swallow as you approached the steps of the house, nearly tripping up over your feet from the speed that sasha was hauling you along at, watching her furiously knock at the door.

there were people wandering about in the yard, some on their phones, most likely waiting for their own friends to arrive, and a smoky stench of something that definitely wasn't just tobacco wafting from the group of men camped out on the porch murmuring amongst each other. you could hear the volume of the music inside the house, almost able to feel it thrumming across the floor if you focused enough.

"thomas!" she exclaimed at the sight of a younger-looking blonde boy when the door opened, whose existence you honestly had no idea about until just now, grinning so broadly it made your own cheeks hurt for her, "jean invited us!"

"oh, come right in." he beamed right back, calling loudly over his shoulder, "yo, jean, your friends are here!"

the inside of the house looked just as you expected, already crowded to max capacity, jean having to maneuver past the throng of people gathered near the front to approach the two of you. "damn, i feel like i haven't seen you in forever." he did his best to speak over the music, wrapping you up in a friendly squeeze, "glad to see you could finally make it." he turned to sasha. "niko's already in the kitchen, by the way. asked when you were coming just a few minutes ago."

sasha's face lit up with glee, turning to you, silently asking for permission to go off on her own as if you could ever deny her and her overly-eager expression. "go get 'em, tiger." you smiled, giving her a few pats on her shoulder to send her off on her way, watching her disappear into the crowd in record time.

but before apprehension of her absence could set in, you felt jean's arm sling around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "c'mon, you didn't think i was gonna ditch out and let you hang alone all night?" you giggled, turning your head up to look at him properly for the first time.

you'd first met jean in your statistics class, an unfortunate requirement for your major of choice, and initially bonded over your mutual connection through sasha. they'd been good friends in high school, and you'd just moved into a room for at least the next year with her, so you figured it'd do you well to have someone who could get you in her good graces in the event that you two didn't get along. but, thankfully, you two were just fine on your own, and sasha and jean became your first friends outside of the small group you and eren shared.

the only real conflict of interest between the two of you seemed to be your aforementioned boyfriend, and you couldn't really be upset at him for that. eren could be difficult to get along with even at the best of times, he wasn't a terrible person—at least before he'd cheated—but he wasn't exactly the most friendly either.

"is this piercing new?" you asked, reaching up to brush your thumb over the small earring hugging the shell of jean's ear.

"yeah, got it for new year's. pretty hot, right?" you snorted, earning a grin from him, "by the way, if you need to use the bathroom just tell me, the one on the main floor is fucking filthy. and also probably has no toilet paper."

"will do." you could feel the tension ebbing away in his company, at least when you ignored the annoyed glances other girls were sending your way when they noticed his arm around you, "so, what's on the menu for tonight?"

"well, we probably have every kind of alcohol known to man," he said, leaning down to speak into your ear as he began to guide you through the crowded first floor, "beer kegs are out back, junk food and all the inexpensive shit is in the kitchen." he stopped at the opening to a hallway, smile evident in his voice. "but i'm feeling pretty generous tonight, so if you want some of the good stuff we have stashed, just say the word."

"wow, such a gentleman. do you say that to every girl that comes in?" you playfully replied, thankfully far enough away from the music now that you didn't have to talk at nearly a shout.

"only the ones i like." he added a terribly over-exaggerated wink, earning another small laugh from you, "so, what'll it be? vodka, tequila, or triple sec?"

you blinked up at him. "that's it? when you said 'good stuff', i imagined a little more variety."

"beggars can't be choosers, sweetheart. and anyways we're a frat, not a restaurant, so either take your pick or go enjoy some cheap wine while you watch nikolo and sasha drool over each other."

you rolled your eyes, feigning anger in the face of his attitude, huffing out your answer. "surprise me then, frat boy."

"good answer." he said with a grin, "wait here."

he disappeared down the hall, leaving you to stare in silence at the wall before you and listen to the barely muffled sounds of the party going on just a few meters away. you opened up your clutch to fish out your phone, opening it to find your text conversation still open, catching a glimpse of connie's name. you felt a little guilty that you'd almost forgotten about his expected presence, seeing as he had messaged you and you hadn't heard anything from sasha or jean yet. you decided to shoot him a quick text letting him know that you and sasha had arrived, not surprised when he didn't respond as quickly as he usually did, knowing that he was already wrapped up in getting high out of his mind somewhere here or doing so elsewhere.

you opted to kill time tapping through your feed, making it a point to quickly scroll past any posts with armin's handle attached to them. the thought of eren having fun halfway across the world was both pleasant and disheartening at the same time. you felt stupid for still clinging on to the second thoughts about ending things the second he got back. sure, all the dots connected suspiciously well to create a picture that led to the clear conclusion of cheating, but eren wasn't good at hiding things. you remembered the time in your junior year when he'd barely been able to keep your surprise party that your friends had organized you a secret before one of them slipped up about it and exonerated him from blame, and you couldn't help but ask yourself if he was really capable of hiding such a terrible deed when he couldn't even conceal the harmless types of secrets from you.

the more confrontational part of you said that that was ages ago, that both you and him had changed so much since your time in high school, and maybe one of those changes was what made him put so much distance between the two of you these last months rather than hang around you and risk airing out his dirty laundry. you knew you should be angry with him, you would be more than right to be angry with him, but you force yourself to stop clinging to the simpler times, the days when he'd look at you like you'd put the stars in the sky and said all he ever wanted to do was be around you. you couldn't believe how much had changed in so little time.

"ta-da!" jean's voice interrupted your self-pity, a tall plastic cup suddenly occupying your vision, "long island iced tea for the lady. with a straw."

"christ, jean, are you trying to kill me?" you guffawed, taking the cup from him anyways, "my first real party in months and this is what you start me off with?"

"at least give it a try! after i took all that time to make it for you.." he furrowed his brows at you, only relaxing after you took a tentative sip. it was surprisingly not as strong as you thought it would be, a little on the sweeter side, but it served as a good distraction for the burn of five different alcohols sliding down your throat. "pretty good, isn't it?"

"meh. five out of ten." you snarked, giggling around the straw between your lips.

"typical," he lamented, clutching his hands over his heart, "all you and sasha ever do is use me."

"don't lie to yourself, jean. you love us."

you didn't know if it was the dim lighting casting a shadow over his face, but you could swear that you saw his cheeks flush at your assertion. "anyways.. speaking of love, you still dating that asshole? eric?"

"eren." you corrected, laughing at the error, "and, well, it's complicated."

"complicated? then i'm assuming he fucked up big time, considering he's not even here with you this time around."

you took a long sip of your drink, fiddling with the bendy part of your straw, the thought of his infidelity weighing heavily on your heart. "well he'd probably be here if he wasn't out of town, he's been planning to take his trip for a while now.."

jean shot you a displeased look. "i seriously don't know how you put up with that guy, you're selling yourself short honestly. planning on breaking up with him anytime soon?"

you cast your gaze to the floor, thankful that the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach was helping to ease the cool hollowness settling deep into your chest. "oh hush. you don't even know the whole story, jean."

"well i know enough. if you're in the market for any new guys, i'll scout out someone nice for you." you scoffed at his offer, but didn't outright deny it either, unable to help smiling along with him when he smirked and nodded over to the party in the other room, "now, come play me in beer pong, then you'll really have something to complain about."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke could confidently say that his night had been utterly unremarkable.

another quiet day spent working at the library, where he'd actually glanced at the door more times than he was willing to admit with the hope that it would be you walking in. he'd actually been quite tempted to message you, to ask what you were doing, if you had anywhere between two and three so that maybe he could see you, but he'd ultimately decided against it. he couldn't quite figure out the exact cause of his newly-found infatuation with you, but the rationality of it didn't concern him as much as it probably should've, he was simply pleased to relive the very recent memories of your encounters together and anticipate your next meeting—at least until his younger brother returned.

eren had attempted to goad a reaction out of him with an assortment of unsavory texts calling him just about every name in the book, a constant stream of questions asking why he did it, or what he'd done to deserve such a thing, and even a few desperate pleas begging him to say that it wasn't really you. of course, he'd ignored all of them, and he wondered if eren was trying to contact you as well, knowing that you wouldn't be able to see the messages even if that was the case, though still curious nonetheless.

but for the moment, he was lounging at his usual downtown bar, seated in a booth beside reiner and across from porco at their rescheduled night out, since both marcel and porco were unable to make it yesterday, the latter sulking after his noisy attempt to flag down the waitress ended in failure.

"is marcel actually gonna make it tonight?" reiner asked, plucking a stick of celery from the appetizer platter in the middle of the table.

"no clue." porco replied, sipping his mojito, "said he got caught up at work again, so either the let down text is gonna come any minute now, or he's gonna show up for an hour and then disappear."

zeke chuckled. "post-marriage life sure is tough, i guess."

"you can say that again. he's always calling me, freaking about the idea of kids and his mortgage and stuff that i didn't even think about until he complained about it, scary shit."

"you say that like you're not two years away from being his age."

porco began what was sure to be one of his smart-ass replies, but the waitress had finally approached their booth, hiding her annoyance with his friend with a forced smile as she took the orders for their entrées. zeke pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans when he felt it buzz, feeling the slightest hint of disappointment by the fact that it wasn't you.

"who is it? your new girlfriend?" reiner grumbled, smirking when porco shot up in his seat.

"girlfriend?!" he exclaimed far too loudly.

"yup. zeke didn't tell you he's dating a high-schooler?"

so much for "your business", zeke thought to himself. "oh, fuck off. she's in college." he frowned at his roommate, only met with another tired expression of disappointment.

"just barely." reiner turned back to the man across the table, "it's one of his brother's ex-girlfriends too."

porco stared at him incredulously, eyes wide and judgmental, falling back against the cushion of the seat with a low whistle. "shit zeke.. that's kinda fucked up, don't you think?" he seemed uncomfortable by the unexpected revelation, "you're almost thirty and you're screwing around with someone who's probably not even twenty? is this an afraid-of-getting-old thing? mid-life crisis??"

"she's an adult, she can make her own choices." zeke didn't appreciate the sudden scrutiny, finishing off his old fashioned in the hopes that the bourbon would wash away the self-conscious feeling settling unpleasantly in his gut, "not my fault that her choice happens to be wanting to be around me rather than the guys her age."

"what ever happened to you and pieck? she's hot—"

"and actually over the legal drinking age."

both porco and zeke pointedly ignored reiner's interaction as the former continued. "—i thought it was working out between you two.. what happened?"

zeke shrugged. "just wasn't the right fit for me. but you liked her, didn't you? before we had our thing." he looked up at his friend, forcing a casual grin, "maybe you could give that shot now."

he felt a bit more at ease seeing porco's ears and cheeks flush red, now fiddling with the lime garnish on the rim of his glass. "we still talk here and there.. i don't really know much about what she's up to these days."

before he could answer with more words of encouragement that detracted from the previous, morally-incriminating topic, his phone began to vibrate, and he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of your name on the screen. "sorry, gotta take this."

he tugged on his jacket and slid out of the booth, ignoring reiner's chastising glance and porco's bewildered look, passing the waitress who was now carrying a platter with their food and refills on his way out. the cool night breeze was refreshing in comparison to the awkward, almost cramped atmosphere that had developed over their discussion, his breath coming is foggy puffs in the chilled, january air as he pressed the answer button. immediately upon raising the phone to his ear, he was met with a blurred assortment of background noise, able to discern the muffled sound of music and the sound of footsteps outside of whatever room you were in.

"hello?"

"oh, zeke, you answered!!" he could hear in your voice that you were clearly intoxicated, much more than you had been when you were at his house, words stringing together and ending syllables unnecessarily drawn out.

he felt uncharacteristically worried at the realization that you were at a party, one that sounded quite large and crowded, most likely crawling with unsavory individuals that he knew prowled around those sorts of events when he himself was in college. "are you alright? where are you right now? do you need me to pick you up?"

zeke was already digging around in his coat pocket to check if he had his keys, more than prepared to take off without his meal or saying goodbye to his friends inside. "'m at a party on campus, 's okay. in the bathroom. just thinking."

zeke didn't feel eased at all at the sound of loud knocking coming from somewhere, hearing you becoming distant for a moment as you presumably pulled the phone away from your ear to call out that the bathroom was occupied. there was shuffling on the other line, then silence for a short moment. "can i ask you something?"

zeke frowned. the idea of not being able to know who was monitoring you in this state wasn't sitting well with him. "go ahead."

"but don't call me stupid, ok? i already know it's a stupid question, but i still wanna ask it."

"there's no such thing as stupid questions." he assured you, ignoring the buzz of a text notification, most likely porco or reiner telling him to come back in before the burger he ordered got cold.

"do i really have to break up with eren?"

zeke felt something odd flicker in his chest, that unfamiliar feeling he'd felt when he caught you staring at you and his brother's one-sided chat logs, but yet the affirmative answer he thought he would be able to give with no problem sat on the tip of his tongue, undelivered. he thought back to that face reiner had made when he told him who you were, and porco's hesitant words trying to rationalize his actions but ultimately failing to do so.

zeke didn't understand why he felt so conflicted all of a sudden. this was meant to be a simple ordeal, one where he got what he needed to teach eren a lesson and moved on with his life. but now here he was, concerned about your whereabouts, focusing hard enough on your muddled words that he managed to catch the wobble in your voice that betrayed your own state of emotional unrest. he realized a moment too late that he hadn't said anything, hearing a small sniffle on your end before we began speaking.

"god, i can't believe i said that out loud, you must really think i'm dumb r'now, but.. i just can't let go of what we had." he was sure that you were crying now. "i keep thinking about what you said, an' you're right. he's been an ass to me, he practically ignored me for, like, three months, probably fuckin' cheated on me with his hot best friend, so i can't understand why i just wanna keep trying to fix things... and its so confusing 'cause everyone just keeps telling me to enjoy myself an' have fun, but i have no idea what i even want anymore, and i don't even know what we are right now and i can't fuckin' believe i cheated on my boyfriend with his fuckin' older brother and i don't know what i'd ever do if he found out."

by the end of it, you were letting out small, hiccuped sobs, breath fast and uneven just as it had been the night he'd invited you over. he honestly didn't know what to say, listening to you cry, staring at the steam of his breath as it dissipated out into the night. you were a good person, someone who was undeserving of such treatment from either him or eren, but it was simply an unfortunate coincidence that you had been caught in the fray.

he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts, preparing to deliver an affirmation similar to the one he'd given you a few days ago when you first laid all your relationship troubles out on the table, but there was a rapid, more insistent knocking at the bathroom door on your end. he could hear a female voice calling out your name, and the jiggling of the door knob.

"hold on," you paused, sniffling, "it's my roommate."

you steadied yourself enough to say that, tossing the phone somewhere before he heard the sound of the door unlocking. "there you are!! are you seriously wasted already? it's only, like, eleven?! why are you crying???" your roommate sounded tipsy, but nowhere near as intoxicated as you currently were, which eased zeke's initial worry, "jean! can you c'mere for a sec! wait, were you calling someone?"

there was a brief pause, and zeke could practically see your tiny nod and teary eyes in his head, then heels clicking over tile and the sound of the phone being lifted, followed by a hurried, "hey, this is her roommate! she's fine, gotta go!"

then silence, just him and the faint noise coming from inside the bar behind him. he didn't know what to think. from the sounds of it, it seemed like your friends were taking care of you for the time being, friends who names he vaguely remembered you speaking of when you'd been detailing your time at the halloween party—people that were unfamiliar to him, people he wasn't sure that he could trust. and a small part of him, a tiny voice at the back of his head, scoffed at his flimsy mask of worry that barely hid the true emotion, his possessive nature, driving his desire to go pick you up and bring you back to the apartment to take care of so you'd have to be there with him another morning with your thankful gazes and blunt, half-awake words.

he knew he was in no place to begin laying judgement at these unknown people in your life considering what he'd done, but it was an innate sort of feeling, the thought that always clouded his mind when he laid eyes on people that were younger than him, that he knew more than them, that somehow he would always be above them in an invisible hierarchy. that same feeling that he felt when he found himself looking down at you.

"zeke?" a warm, friendly voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes turning up from the ground to find a tired-looking marcel standing before him, "what are you doing out here by yourself?"

"smoke break." the lie slipped between his lips before he even thought of the fact that there was no cigarette between his fingers, no scent of smoke in the air or clinging to his clothes, "glad you could make it, everyone's inside. pretty sure porco already ordered you something."

but instead of immediately heading inside for zeke to come after him, marcel stood for a moment, lips drawing back and eyebrows knitting into a concerned expression. "is everything okay?"

zeke thought for a moment, giving a non-committal shrug in response.

"still having family troubles?"

despite having been quite fixated on his negative feelings revolving his own younger brother for the last few days, zeke had almost pushed out a majority of the sordid details of the entire situation out of his head, which now seemed to all flood back with such a short, simple question.

"you could say that." zeke scratched the back of his neck, now wishing he'd actually had a cigarette to take his mind off of all these turbulent thoughts, "all the arguing and shit subsided already, but..."

"anything from your dad?" marcel's voice was almost tentative asking that, frowning when zeke said nothing, "sorry.. didn't mean to be insensitive about it."

"it's not insensitive. just," he swallowed, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching out to push open the bar door, a silent, less embarrassing way to signal that he no longer wanted to talk about it anymore, "just kind of fresh. that's all."

they both stood in silence for a moment, marcel's eyes wandering his face, features expressing a clear concern, but thankfully, he didn't push the issue any further, simply following him inside like zeke wished he would've done minutes earlier to save him the trouble, proceeding to the booth housing their friends. the conversation didn't wander back to the topic of him and his morally dubious relations nor his current familial situation, much to his relief, making it much easier for him to just allow the conversation to flow around him, finding himself not having much of an appetite or desire to speak much with so much on his mind.

for a moment, zeke wondered to himself if this was a punishment from the universe, feeling so downtrodden on what was usually one of his more enjoyable nights in the week. not to say that they were always amazing to be around, but spending time with porco, reiner, marcel, and sometimes bertholdt made up most of the meaningful social interactions he had, and to have lost out on it today of all days just seemed like some odd form of karmic justice as a result of him behaving so selfishly.

but he held out for the rest of the evening anyways, going through more drinks that he probably should've, finding easier to tune in to porco and reiner's usual bickering, marcel's attempts to quell them, the ambient sound of bustling waiters and clinking glasses and plates to bury down any thought of you or his family or what was to come at the end of the week, the consequences with much more magnitude in his life than an just an unpleasant night out.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ: *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*

previous chapter⥽

#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager x you #snk zeke #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x reader smut #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x reader smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #m.nsfw

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jennycalendar · 3 years

Note

Oh your “Jenny being alive would make Giles WORSE in season 6” sounds Fascinating please expand!! (If you would like)

took me a hot minute but thank you VERY kindly for enabling me <3

so as y'all know, the point i always hammer home on dreadfulcalendarwoman dot tumblr dot com is that giles's character arc starts and ends with jenny. like she is the turning point for him in EVERY way wrt the way he chooses to interact with the world, despite her never being top priority in his life. i actually think it is so deeply interesting that buffy's unwavering love for giles is not enough to pull him out of his determined isolation, simply because she is The Slayer and she's Fated To Die and while she's come to terms on some level with her death, giles doesn't ever completely seem able to come to terms with the concept of losing her. so it's actually not gonna ever be buffy who can spur giles towards growth, partly because of that and partly because of the fact that she cuts him SOOOOO much slack. like that's her dad! she wants him to take care of her! she will forgive SO much of him.

jenny does not do that with giles. jenny draws lines and sticks to them to the best of her abilities and we have seen in canon how badly giles deals with those lines -- like in ted, where she essentially says "you being around me is bad for my recovery right now" and he behaves like she killed his dog or something. but the thing is that he still does register and respect that she's got boundaries, and he does try in his own way (hindered as he is by what some might call an unhealthy obsession with jenny) to adhere to the rules she sets down. there is also a very clear problem here in that jenny is super fucking inconsistent and what she allows giles is completely changeable and arbitrary up until the dark age -- like she is deliberately yanking him around because she wants to see how complete her control over him is, and still doesn't totally believe that it's absolute. and then of course GILES thinks that jenny KNOWS she has absolute control over him and is deliberately USING it, which i think definitely contributes to the resentment and anger of the angelus mess. but that's just canon.

ANYWAY i wanted to talk about that because i think it sets the stage REALLY NICELY for giles and jenny's dynamic in a canon where she lives! jenny represents this sense of normalcy and stability in giles's life -- in a lot of ways, his obsession with her is centered around this idea of her as his future wife and long-term life partner, which is something he never thought he would get to have or even WANT to have with anybody. canonically, in season three, the loss of jenny causes giles to double down real hard in his role as a watcher -- reflected in his suddenly incredibly rigid and starchy wardrobe, but also in the way he's no longer pursuing connections outside the scooby gang at all. losing jenny in canon makes it clear to him that he has nothing but being a watcher, and that he will fail at that as well if he allows himself to love someone the way he loved her (see: acathla). and loving jenny brought giles such profound joy that i don't think he ever wants to really handle the concept of never having that again, so of course he throws himself into watcher stuff instead of confronting that.

but in a canon where jenny lives (even in a canon where they spend the third season continuing to be a fucked up mess, which i think is realistic -- it's gonna take time for them to build something healthy after all the we-are-never-ever-getting-back-togethers of season two), giles no longer has that reason to double down as a watcher! instead he has this enduring and consistent possibility that he is allowed to love somebody without it blowing up in his face, and i think that that would genuinely help him so much. he wouldn't need to adhere so rigidly to Watchery Standards, he wouldn't WANT to do the cruciamentum if it ran the risk of hurting buffy -- he would start letting go of this pessimistic, cynical view of the world and the fact that buffy's doomed to die, and work instead on cultivating a home and a surrogate family with jenny. like at his core giles is a homemaker and he longs for community and family and a sense of belonging, just like the rest of the scoobies! he canonically likes being cast as the patriarch but labels himself as an "uncle" because it still gives him an out. i don't think he'd want to wriggle out of familial attachment if this was a world where he never had to experience losing jenny.

THING IS THOUGH, this is still a world where he loses BUFFY. and while canon giles cultivated this very deliberate distance between himself and buffy in an attempt to prepare for the eventuality of her death, this version of giles is one who has started to genuinely view buffy as a daughter and support her in that way as well. there's no emotional distance that he can fall back on to support himself through his grief. he has lost his daughter. in so many ways that is worlds worse than losing jenny before he ever got the chance to really love her, and i think it would have the potential to wreck him on a level that rivals canon.

so season six giles would be handling his grief in the same way that canon giles did -- he's throwing himself into a role that distances himself from the trauma of losing somebody he loves. this time he is ACTIVELY trying to distance himself from buffy -- not "for her own good," but because he just refuses to handle his grief, and even her coming back wouldn't shake his sudden understanding of the fact that she could die just as horribly and permanently again. and so in THIS version of season six he is very aggressively defining himself as Jenny's Husband and trying to push jenny towards having their own biological children and absolutely ignoring the fact that because of his insistent refusal to acknowledge his loss, his marriage is falling apart. he no longer wants to view himself as a watcher or as connected to buffy in any way, because he never ever wants to lose her like that again. that's his daughter. he cannot love her anymore because losing her destroyed him and he can't go through it a second time.

and jenny is just having A Time because she is a smart cookie! she sees why this is happening and she wants to be able to help giles through it! but she literally can't help giles when he is refusing to admit that there's even a problem. and poor buffy who is still dealing with the trauma of being ripped out of heaven also has to deal with and in some ways cater to giles, whose grief prevents him from being there for her in the way that she was genuinely expecting from him. like i think this is a canon where buffy and giles's relationship could have been at the place for her to tell him the truth, but then she comes back and he is a fucking mess and she does the whole depressed repression thing and tries to take care of him. Which Does Not Go Over Well With Jenny.

i'm not sure how this gets solved. i actually wrote a chapter of this a billion years ago wherein jenny and buffy and spike and dawn start forming this weird and incredibly sad family unit after giles leaves for england, and jenny and buffy kinda mutually struggle with this idea of a mother/daughter relationship after years of weirdness between them. i think that the onus would really be on giles to pull himself out of it, because he would have effectively burned his bridges with his wife HARDCORE by that point -- but it would still be a version of giles who had three more years of emotional stability than in canon. there's always a chance.

#asks #restlesshush #meta #headcanon #long post #(a little flfksdh)#rupert giles #jenny calendar #giles and jenny and buffy #ANYWAY this is my ''canon can be worse sometimes'' agenda #i think giles letting himself be buffy's dad and then having her die would fuck him up SO supremely.#and i think giles WOULD let himself be buffy's dad in a world where jenny lived #because jenny allows him to be emotionally vulnerable and encourages him to connect with others #(which is a much shorter version of this post lmaooooo)

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