#(ooc) offer to pour his drink im sure it will help!

[deadbeatbartender]

*I add a bottle of Remy Martin Black Pearl Louis XIII, a Cognac worth $165,000, to the circle of catnip*

"Why." Husk muttered, staring with wide eyes.

[shingeki-no-scenarios]

Title: His Love

Characters: Random issa surprise tho yall would probably see it in the tags

Genre: Angst I guess

Warnings: Some OOC depiction, manga spoilers, strong language

Summary: A drabble collection showcasing a father’s love.

A/N: Happy Fathers’ Day to all you fathers/father figures/dad friends out there! This little project has less drabbles than the Mothers’ Day one since I’m kinda using it to help me get back into the swing of writing regularly & just writing in general also im tired :D

one. While Levi took pride in being one of the most competent, effective members of the military, he truly doubted himself when it came to comforting or consoling anyone– be it a stranger or someone he’s known all his life. With the way his tongue couldn’t seem to help itself from being sarcastic and rather unnecessarily frank, he decided that he really wasn’t someone to be approached during times of sorrow or grief.

However, he couldn’t help himself from brewing a teapot of his prized black tea and pouring a generous amount for the shaken, seemingly betrayed member of his squad. Though the ravenette’s usual stoic expression painted his face, his eyes seemed to soften a little as he sat in front of the petite blonde lady who stared vacantly into space, while her superior tried to figure out if she was trembling in shock, anger, or a combination of both. Seeing that she wouldn’t take the initiative to speak any time soon, Levi cleared his throat to catch her attention; once he was able to do so, he heaved a heavy sigh before opening his mouth to speak.

“Historia,” he started before taking a quite uncomfortable pause, trying to piece his words together before continuing. He had quite a lot on his mind right now, given the complexity of the situation, therefore he couldn’t bring himself to immediately give a straight-to-the-point statement the way he usually does. “Are you alright?” was all he was able to add as he gave up on trying to string his messy thoughts together.

“Am I alright?” Historia repeated the question with a rather sarcastic, dry scoff. Levi wanted to laugh at how the pair have seemed to swap personalities, but he knew damn well that it wouldn’t be appropriate to do so– it wasn’t that funny, either. “I met my biological father for the first time in my life, and then I had to kill him because he’s an asshole. Now, I have to take charge of the land and clean up after his shit. I’m not alright.” her voice trembled and she blinked back tears of frustration as she spoke, urging Levi to push her teacup closer in hopes that the warm drink would somehow soothe her.

Albeit Historia’s response was one that Levi would expect from her, he could understand why she reacted the way she did, and he thought that she had every right to. Just like the young woman, he, too, had been in a position where he was young and pelted with demanding responsibilities he never asked for. He remembered being shrouded in fear, anxiety, and loneliness the same way the young lady was at the moment, but he couldn’t recall having the same selflessness, altruism, and determination she had– it made Levi admire and respect her even more.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be alright.” the elder of the pair heard her mumble, making Levi pity her and feel so sorry for her that he immediately felt a thousand pins pierce through his heart. Though Historia had turned her face away from him, he knew that pain and worry filled her face, further adding to the heavy feeling that sat on his chest.

Seeing that she had finished her drink, and that she probably needed another one, Levi moved to generously refill her teacup as he offered her a barely visible yet gentle smile that spoke volumes of how everything will be alright.

two. A smile creeped onto the elder man’s weary, matured face as he watched his son scan through his collection of novels, ocean-blue eyes growing wider with curiosity and excitement with each page he turned. As he leaned on his study room’s doorway, the elder recalled how back in the day, he was just as inquisitive and interested in all the knowledge the world had to offer, leading him to spend hours and hours with his nose in a book the same way his son did.

Sensing that he wasn’t alone, Erwin quirked an eyebrow as he slowly craned his head to face the doorway, offering a warm, welcoming smile to the man who stood there. “Hi, pop.” he greeted, turning back to the book he had in hand upon receiving an acknowledgement. Chuckling at how his son couldn’t seem to take a break from reading, Mr. Smith took small steps towards the younger, placing a hand on Erwin’s head before gently ruffling his hair.

“The Pearl.” the elder immediately recognized the novel albeit taking one glance at the page the younger was one. “My favorite book.” he rasped with a fond sigh as he affectionately patted the younger’s back. Knowing that his father was pleased with his book of choice, Erwin shot him a toothy grin and nodded enthusiastically, further adding to the pride and bliss Mr. Smtih was feeling.

“Would you sit with me while I read?” the boy asked hopefully. While his father did make an effort to spend time with the family, Erwin still yearned for quality time with him as each and every conversation they’ve had was enjoyable as it was intellectually-stimulating. “There are a few words and phrases that I’m not sure of.” he added bashfully, though he knew that the other would be more than happy to sit down and answer his questions.

With a bright smile, Mr. Smith enthusiastically plopped down on the chair next to the one Erwin was seated in and scooted closer, more than ready to spend an afternoon answering anything and everything that was to be thrown his way.

three. His limbs felt numb and heavy, while his vision blurred and his head spun with intoxication, though he was sober enough to make an effort to quietly close the door and gently walk through the cramped, dingy space he and his nephew called “home.”

Plopping down onto the ratty, worn-out sofa placed a few meters from the front door, Kenny leaned back with a sigh as he tried to calm the buzz in his head. Absentmindedly, he fixed his eyes onto Levi’s, his nephew, sleeping form. It probably seemed creepy, but he couldn’t help but observe how the young boy looked so peaceful and carefree in that moment– a stark contrast to the usual vacant expression he had on.

At that moment, the young boy possessed a striking resemblance to his younger sister, tugging on Kenny’s heartstrings as thoughts of how much he missed her, and of how much he wished she were there to see her son who has grown up to be a handsome, courageous young man. Though there were times where he was bitter about his sister’s choices that eventually lead to her demise, it all boiled down to how it happened because he didn’t fight hard enough for their clan, leading them to do whatever they could to survive in the harsh, cruel Underground– hiding like sewer rats until their clan was “good enough” to blend with the society they were originally a part of.

Though he has never expressed it, and he highly doubts that he ever will, Kenny knew that he loved Levi dearly; after all, he was the only family member he had left– there was no way that he would let anyone take that away from him. Crossing his arms and closing his eyes, the man swore the moon and stars that he would fight tooth and nail for the young brat. That way, he would be able to give Levi the good life he deserved and obviously had a right to. 

That way, he wouldn’t have a reason or excuse to grow up to be like his sorry excuse for an uncle, given that Kenny completely knew that he was and never will be fit to serve as a father figure– no matter how hard he tried.

[noonmutter]

Etiquette

(Another round of modified chatlogs. Terry and Dwyn regularly compete with Leon and Pin for cuteness points, but only when they’re alone. This takes place just after the last Dragoon meeting, which I missed for purely OOC reasons because I’m a dumb.)

The directions Shedwyn leaves for Terry guide him to the far side of the lake from the Cathedral. It's a bit of a hike or a short boat ride, one that she apparently made on her own, because by the time he arrives she is sitting on a blanket with a picnic basket. As he approaches, she pulls out a bottle of liquor and a pair of glasses. She pours just one glass, for now. It's not exactly a public place, but seeing her out of bed with all her illusion spells off is unusual. Showing off all those scars, tattoos, and her "weird" eyes isn't her style. Of course, the gold "dress" isn't really her style, either. It's far too exposed.

The hike itself isn't too difficult for him, not after running about in the rocky mess of the Shore. Really, his reflexive checking for fel pools slows him down more than anything else. Once he sees her, but doesn't see the chair, he's immediately impressed. The booze gets a bit of a smile, and the...visibility of her more of one, after a moment's surprise. When he's only a few feet away, he pries off the heavier bits of his armor and drops them carelessly to the grass, and closes the remaining distance barefoot. "Y'look good, babygirl."

"I always do," she smirks, and offers the glass up to him. "I feel good. It felt like the thing to wear."

He settles onto the blanket beside her and leans over to kiss her cheek, only then taking the glass. "Did y'actually walk up 'ere?"

She laughs. "Not all the way, no."

"Tch. 'Ere I was about t'be impressed." He takes a drink with a quiet sigh of satisfaction.

She looks him up and down, and leans over to plant a little peck on his shoulder while he drinks. "You look like hell. But I'm so happy to see you, hon."

He really does, at least compared to his standard. Most people probably wouldn't think the softness to his features was anything significant, but she sees him too often for that. "Nah. 'Ell's a dif'rent shade o' green. But I missed you too."

Chuckling, she pours herself a finger of whiskey. She leans away a bit to watch him while she savors her drink.

He's really enjoying that drink, if only because the only booze one is going to find on the shore is cheap stuff soldiers sneak in. He's worn, in that have-slept-but-not-enough way, but healthy otherwise, and content for the moment. If she doesn't interrupt him, he'll finish his glass without saying stopping. Not chugging, just...savoring it.

She's content to enjoy the whiskey and the view with him in silence for a few minutes. Once he's done, she silently offers to refill his glass.

With another small smile, he nods and holds it out. While she's pouring, he takes his turn to watch her, not skipping an opportunity to see what she normally hid even from him.

She's a little sad, a little nervous. As she pours, she says, "I have a question, but first I should tell you something."

Well, he isn't sad, but he's certainly nervous, now. "All right?"

"I could hide it from you indefinitely with little effort, and I considered doing so. It seems to me it will only hurt you... But if I want this to last, I should tell you. It certainly won't if you find out on your own." She frowns a little and brushes the back of her fingers down the side of his arm. "Do you remember when I said there were others, but nothing serious, when we recognized that you and I are... well, perhaps not 'serious,' but significant?"

From nervous to scared in record time, congratulations Dwyn! "...yeah?" He doesn't move, but there’s enough tension in his face to momentarily erase the apparent weariness he's been fighting off.

She curses under her breath and looks away, putting the cool glass to her forehead. "I'm so bad at this." She looks back up at him. "The others were irrelevant, no one you're ever likely to meet, but one of them was your brother."

His brain runs in slow motion while he's parsing what he's been told and making sure it doesn't involve him having done something wrong. Then he goes over it again, looking for something she did wrong, and alarm klaxons go off right at the end. His eyes don't widen, they don't narrow. He doesn't outwardly do anything except stop blinking.

She swallows hard on the knot that had been trying to form this entire time. "It ended up being just the once, but still." And there she goes, looking away in shame. Both from sleeping with his brother and trying to justify it so lamely.

"...You're not still, are you?" He makes wholly unhelpful motions with his hands. "I know Leon does that... swingin'...thin'..."

"No." Offense catches up to and surpasses shame. "No! I-! No. I cut him off. Hell, until the other day when I had this same conversation with him, I hadn't seen him in weeks, not since the day I cut him off."

The stiffness in his shoulders is only really noticeable because it suddenly goes away, and he finally starts blinking again as he leans back. "I mean... I 'aven't been with Rhiswyn in ages. A while b'fore Alynore'd ever said anythin' t'you. I ended it with 'er, too."

Shedwyn shrugs and shakes her head. "I didn't think you had, really." She makes a face and sips her drink quickly. "That will certainly be a nightmare for a while, but no, I never really thought you might still be seeing her. And I told you, I'm yours. Only yours. I'm not going to touch anyone else unless you and I - us - changes."

"Babygirl, I'm not Leon... I don't really care tha' much 'o fucks 'im. I mean... I know it's kind'f a, a sore spot for 'im, but... this ain't th' same."

Shedwyn nods, ands looks away, thinking. "It really isn't."

"There was this girl, Lilith, 'o'd wander int' town back in th' day. Most'f th' lads figured she was a bored 'ore 'o came 'round whenever th' local law got too pushy. She'd entertain 'erself--and us--fer a few weeks, then shove off again back t'wherever she came from. Y'know.

"I pointed 'er Leon's way one time. 'E was a quiet li'l dork an' 'e was never gonna get anywhere if 'e was th'only one 'o 'ad any say innit, so I thought I was doin'im a favor, y'know? Get 'im 'is first. Mighta been 'is last, but at least 'e'd 'ave a first…"

Shedwyn scrubs at her face. "Yes, I know what happened there. It's one of many reasons I was afraid to tell him. Interesting to hear your side of it, though."

Terry looks down at his empty glass. "Yeah, well. Iunno what 'e was expectin' back then. Either way, tha's not me. Pers'nally I'd rather not know 'o 'e's stuck it in." He pauses, then closes his eyes in a very 'god damn it, man' way, realizing what he just said.

"Heh. No. I suppose you wouldn't, but if you found out from someone else..." She sighs, bumps his shoulder with hers, and then moves away to crawl toward the basket. "How does steak sound for dinner?"

Yes, she is trying to distract him from imagining Leon fucking her.

Not expecting an offering of food, he looks up at her and then at the basket. "What? Oh. Yeah. 'Ell yeah. Mess at Deliv'rance Point does pretty good but, y'know.” He paused, then quietly followed up with, "Thanks fer ownin' up. But, uh. It's okay."

She pulls out a pair of covered plates. A good, rare steak, with garlic mashed potatoes and some grilled vegetables is passed off to him with a shrug. "Thank you for being understanding. And for explaining a bit. But it makes my question feel even more silly, now." Scallops, rice, and butter-drowned vegetables for her.

Anyone judging by his expression would think she'd just stripped in front of him and said 'have at it,' the way he looks at that food, and especially once he's smelled it. He actually makes a tiny little 'hee' sound in the back of his throat when he takes the plate. "What question?"

She picks up her drink to sip it and wait until he's not eating, drinking, or holding anything that will break if he drops it from laughing too hard. Still, she can't help but smirk from behind her glass at how silly her question feels (especially with how it may be a touch tardy). "Is it alright if I fall in love with you, or would that be too serious for your taste?"

Good decision. He chokes on air and nearly drops the plate even though it's in his lap. Once he's not coughing, he's chuckling, putting the plate down on the blanket next to him and wiping his mouth. "This from th'girl 'o made fun o' me fer usin' 'fancy'? 'Is it all right?'"

She shrugs. "It is rather adorably quaint slang." She's smiling at both their silliness, now. "I've been with men - and sometimes insisted on the rule myself - where getting that attached was not alright."

Leaning over a bit, he nudges her with his shoulder. "Adorably quaint, pff. Don't get smug on me now, babygirl, y'were doin' so well."

"Humility is not a good look for mages."

"Can be. Y'look amazin' on yer knees."

"So do you." She pops a scallop in her mouth and tries not to smirk up at him.

Someday Terry's gonna have words with himself about how easy it is to make him blush. "Only t'you."

She hooks a finger in his shirt collar and pulls him in close, affecting a sharkish grin that loses most of its edge because she's trying not to laugh. "Only for me."

He can't quite help the way his eyes widen when she does that, even if he does know she's messing with him. It happens and goes away after a second, but it definitely happened. Then he closes the remaining distance between them to kiss her, if only for a peck. "True."

She leans back, still grinning, but gestures at his dinner. "Am I to take it that means it's alright?" Another scallop, still with her bare fingers. Terrible manners on this woman!

Bit of a 'damn' to his face when she doesn't let herself stay distracted, and he picks up a bit of steak he'd cut. She started the terrible manners, he's allowed. "Can't very well stop y', can I?"

She shrugs. "I can choose to fall in love, I can choose to not, no?" She winds her arm around his and leans against him, picking at her food with her free hand. "Besides, you know I already love you dearly. If you wanted, I could be happy with just this, for as long as we have."

He sets his hand on her hip almost without thinking, and rests his head on top of hers once he's done chewing. Wouldn't do to get crumbs in her hair. "Dunno. Can y'choose t'turn somethin' like tha' off?"

"Pft, I can do anything if I put my mind to it." No, no, she can't, but she's not about to admit it right now.

"Mm. So, I got a question fer yer question."

"Fire away."

"Are y'askin' if it's all right, or are y'askin' if I feel th' same way?"

"... I don't need you to be in love with me, Sam. I don't even need you to love me, or 'care deeply,' however we'd like to put it, which I-" She pauses and clears her throat quietly. “It would be nice, but it's not necessary. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable, either by holding you at a distance or pulling you closer."

He's quiet for a bit, eventually curling his other arm around her waist and shifting to sit a bit more comfortably. "Y'din't answer my question, babygirl. Are you askin' me what you actually wanna ask me?"

"I am not asking if you're in love with me, Terry. That would be... Incredibly rude, for lack of a better way of phrasing it. I'm not playing any silly games. I'm asking exactly what I want to know."

"Then m'answer doesn't really change." Ducking his head, he kisses her cheek. "I can't very well stop y'."

She sighs, smiles and exasperated little smile, and continues eating with her fingers. "Eat your dinner, old man."

"Old man! Aren't you older'n me?" Chuckling, he picks up another steak bit.

"Hm, how old are you?"

"Th--" He pauses and squints upward for a minute. "...irty one? I think? Did I miss thirty? ...No. Thirty-one's this year. Yeah. Thirty fer now."

"Then yes. I am older than you are."

"Oh no y'don't. 'Ow old?"

"Thirty-four."

"Gods, I'm stuck with a crone."

"An eternally youthful and beautiful crone, thank you." She tweaks his chin. "You're not stuck with anything."

"She says with 'er arm snaked so tight 'round mine."

"Oh? And that arm around my waist is for balance, I suppose?"

"No, it's t'keep a girl 'o loves me from gettin' away too fast."

"Hmf. Won't be leaving unless you give me reason to." She huffs. "Besides, you're the one always going where I can't follow."

"I 'alf expect t'turn 'round an' see y'comin' up be'ind me t'wreck shit, anyway."

"Soon, I think. I have some ideas..." She shakes her head.

"Pursue 'em. I wanna see my girl beatin' th'shit outta th' demon 'ordes."

She tries to pull away a bit so she can properly look him in the eye again. He won’t stop her, at least not unless she scoots too far.

"Please remember that above all else, no matter what else happens, I am your friend and want to see you happy and healthy. Right?"

His smile fades a little, one eyebrow rising. "Well...yeah. I wasn't questionin' tha'. Should I 'ave?"

"No. I just want to make certain you remember it. No silly self-sacrificing to save me, or worse, my feelings."

"Can't necessarily guarantee th' first bit, babygirl. Y'kin take care o'yerself but some shit's just reflex."

She pouts, but nods. "And the second?"

"Well... I don't 'urt y’ on purpose." He waves his fingers underneath his chin for a second. "When t'shut up. Y'know."

"We both have that problem. As long as we don't leave it at shooting off our mouths, I think we'll be alright."

Terry nods after a minute, then tilts her chin up with a finger. "Kin I 'ave my kiss now?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because I want mine, first."

Smirking, he leans down until his eyes are level with hers, lips damn near touching hers, and stops. "Take it, then."

She cups both hands under his jaw and barely brushes her lips against his, then turns his head to continue back along his jaw toward his ear.

That is less of a kiss than he expected, but he's not about to pull away, going as close to statue-still as he can manage when he's bent at such a sharp angle. She is, after all, rather wee. The soft little groan that simple brush of her lips along his ear draws out of him is nothing but satisfying.

It ends with a frustratingly short tug on his earlobe with her lips before she goes back and murmurs, "Your turn, Sam," against his mouth.

She barely gets to finish the 'M' before he's mashed his lips into hers and is pushing her down to the blanket.

The best part is that she can't manage an evil cackle when she's too busy giggling giddily. She has just enough sense to shove plates out of the way.

"Evil li'l bitch" is all he manages to say, mouth still pressing hers down. If she hadn't moved the plates, he would have...eventually...probably. After he's spent a good five seconds trying to steal her soul, he lifts his head with a lazy grin. "Yeah... yeah, I think it's all right with me."

"Hwuh? Oh... Good." She tries to blink away the confusion, but just looks unsurprisingly dazed. "Skipping dessert, are we?"

"I want y't'appreciate right now 'ow much I care 'bout you, tha' I am not makin' any cracks about chocolate at this moment."

She gives him a fake little smack, further ruined by the way her hand just stays there as she catches his earlobe between her fingers. "I appreciate you not being a lazy bastard just because you love me sooooo much."

Turning his head to kiss at her wrist, he leers sidelong at her. "There is a rest'raunt somewhere tha' makes a fancy sundae with gold foil on, though." One hand flicks the shiny material of her clothes.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "No doubt. There's also one that makes an amazing fruit tart with the fruit piled several inches high."

"Callin' you a fruit tart seems t'be in...poor taste...too." He nips her wrist, grinning unrepentantly.

"But easier to stomach when I haven't been compared to it my whole life."

Shifting smoothly into Suramarian, he says, "{And yet you quiver so, should I refer to your kiss as the cool brush of an evening breeze.}"

Her eyes go wide, but then she scowls. "I hate you so much."

"Do you?" Reaching up to hold her hand in place, he begins kissing his way down her arm. "Why?"

"Mmm, making fun of my weakness - hf - for decent lines of poetic flattery."

"{Decent, she says, even as she holds back another mewl.}" There's a nibble this time.

"You don't believe me when I tell you they're good!"

"{Then quiver, my tiny darling, quiver for me, and speak to me of quality in a language I know.}"

She groans, and it's only partly exasperation. "What am I going to do with you, Terrence Samuel Ambroce?"

"I kin think of a few thin's, but they're a lot less soppy than th'shit I've been sayin' in th' last few minutes." The grin has no shame. The grin does, however, fade into a thoughtful line before he kisses her palm again. "{...do you love me, then?}"

"Rude."

"{Rudeness holds no sway over the classless.}" He smirks. "{Do you love me?}"

She scowls, and says in Thalassian, "{Like the honeybee loves her hive.}"

"{A curious love. The queen is slave to the hive, unable to leave and ever producing, ever expanding the hive.}"

"{It is no better for the workers. They may leave the shelter of the hive, but must always return with all they have for the hive. But queen or worker, what you call slavery, others call purpose.}"

"{You speak of obligation, not love.}"

She sighs noisily. "{I speak of a metaphor that has entirely changed meaning by being examined too long. I wonder if it would be more accurate to say 'as the hive loves the honeybee,' then?}"

"{Perhaps accuracy is best found in literal terms, rather than metaphor. You asked my permission to fall in love with me. If you are not already there yet... what do you feel now?}"

"Protective. Admiration and respect. Frustration. And... there's a, a glee at how well we fit, that made me wish to ask if it was alright to fall in love with you, and to express it." She threads her fingers into his hair. "To allow myself to be possessive, and proud that you are not just my friend, but mine."

He's a bit startled at the language switch and his eyes dart from side to side for a split second like he's actually afraid someone will overhear, but it's there and gone. Her hands are in his hair and he's settled a bit, though she can easily feel the surge of warmth that rolls through him at the way she says 'mine.' "...Do I..." Irritably, he switches back. "{Do I have yours?}"

She tilts her head. "My what- oh!" The genuine smile that brings on turns wicked. "You know, any other woman might feel intimidated into agreement by having you pinning her to the ground."

"Any other woman'd not get th' offer."

She grins at that. "Oh, you're 'offering' to fall in love with me, are you?"

He grins back. "Weren't you t'me?"

"I was asking permission. Not offering. Very different. But." She tugs him downward. "You're welcome to try."

"Yer a terrible liar, babygirl." He settles on top of her to rest his forehead against hers. "But I'll take tha' as permission anyway."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, just enjoying how close they are for a minute. "...I would not suggest it as a wise course of action. But please do."

"I'll let y'know if I do." He kisses her again, not waiting for her to respond.

( @shedwyn , @rhiswyn for mentions )