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bigdvmnhero · 3 months ago

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relationships: dick & tim

word count: 6,019

summary:

“I—” Tim recalibrated. Desperately, he scanned Dick’s face—his features blurred over, a wall of nothing; Tim chipped away: “You were a kid, who’ll blame a kid? They won’t hurt anyone again. If you want to, to, to talk to anyone—but it was a long time ago, you’re Nightwing now—”

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

The apartment had that new-in-town smell: mothballs and desperation. Boxes upon boxes were strewn on the floor. One of them had a dirty plate forgotten on top of it. Old pad thai grease. Armed to the teeth in his full Robin regalia, Tim felt vaguely underdressed in Dick’s kitchen—like there was a speech to do, and he was already forgetting the words.

“Did I lose you again?” Dick said, through a mouthful of his second demolished mango. He was eating them fatherless-style. Dick had been talking about—insurance, maybe. “What’s up?”

Across him, Tim straightened. “Nothing, just.” Mortified, thinking about how I almost spritzed myself with cologne before coming here. What was this, prom? Tim just needed this to go better than last time, was all.

Last time: Tim’s absolute trashfire of a Bludhaven visit; Dick’s rictus of a smile; Dick’s face going bloodless in the half-dark as Tim mentioned Bruce’s adoption offer, absolute god-tier cringe; why’d he do that? It was the same look Dick wore, that first time Tim brandished the original Robin suit from its glass case. Of course Dick disappeared then, all dark and brooding into the night, seeyanara, or never; Tim never could stomach a Never.

He wanted to tell Dick he was working hard to learn it, too—the Bat’s art of Sheer Presence. The way its silhouette inspired awe, stillness. That lately Dick spooked easy, like an animal trying not to be seen. That on nights Tim was almost catatonic with grief, his first half-formed thought was, I want my brother.

Tim said, “It’s not every day you eat scrambled mangoes in Richard Grayson’s apartment.”

“Ever since I saw one of our knife-throwers eat it like this, I always wanted to try it.” Dick picked up a comically large knife and bisected the mango, carving the hairy seed out, before scraping its insides silly. He handed one of the halves to Tim, anointing it with a too-big spoon. Where was this man’s cutlery? “It’s supposed to look like a bowl, then you can walk around eating like that. Neat, huh?”

“Guess so.” Tim accepted Dick’s mango concoction with a smile. Maybe a spoonful, to be polite. Watch and weep, Alfred. “You know, I always wanted to try eating a mango like an apple.”

“Well, we got two left,” Dick snorted, digging into the plastic bag. “Make your dreams come true?”

Do, please. Truth was, Tim daydreamed of it often—no capes, no mission, the solace of a brother only a nightmare-city away, and his quiet balcony. If Tim was lucky, a heart-to-heart. Namely, about the No Good, Very Bad Year he was having.

Same one he was sure Dick was going through now, if only Dick deigned to tell him anything.

“Let’s try it together,” Tim said, conspiratory. “Skin and everything. Sprinkle some seasoning. Alfred would call it… positively diabolical.”

“Oh, I’d move heaven and earth to see that look on that man’s face again.” Dick tipped the mango-bowl into his mouth, then licked his lips with sticky satisfaction. “God. This stuff is top-shelf. Which sunny, tropical island did you pick them from, Tim—the Philippines?”

“Just a freebie. From a grateful citizen.”

Wow, and he was starting to lie to Dick the way he lied to Bruce: with alarmingly little remorse!

The truth: Tim had seen the streetcam footage. Dick Grayson liked to linger longer than normal by that market stall on Hammerstone; stuff was always overpriced, but he stayed for the small talk, exchanging recipes and turning over spotted fruit, face soft with a small secret joy until some goon on busted tires screeched by, or the disembodied voice in his comm summoned him back into the fold—exit Richard Grayson, bereft of mangoes.

“A freebie, huh?” Dick said.

Tim shrugged. “Stopped a mugging on my way here.”

“‘Course you did.”

Tim looked up to see a secret smile on Dick’s face, the dimple deepening. Tim ducked his head—it was always intense when Dick did that, holding your eyes to wait for his words to land. When Dick pushed himself away from the table, Tim was glad to look without being seen.

The scrape on Dick’s elbow matched Batman’s data: Nightwing smashed himself free from a plexiglass wall when it came down on him; there was that wispy patch of petrified-looking hair near his left ear where the flames nearly singed his scalp off. Take a few drunk accidental teenage arsons, a rice cooker, and a wall outlet that hadn’t been maintained since the 80s, and you get a nice, toasty residential building that collapsed in forty minutes. With their training, Nightwing should’ve been in and out in five, tops.

Dick coughed as he groped inside the cupboard. Lung irritation, Tim noted. Possible airway inflammation. Shoddy haircut. Dick must’ve tried to trim the charred split ends. If Tim was there. If Tim had covered his blind spot. If Tim was someone Dick could count on from time to time, maybe.

Maybe.

If, if, if.

“Sorry, haven’t stocked the fridge yet,” Dick said. “Water fine?”

“Yep,” Tim says, popping the P, and looked at the carpet the moment Dick’s stagelight-eyes turned his way. His gaze had scanned Tim with that same cataloging sweep earlier. If Dick noticed the weight of Tim’s Mission, paling him like some kind of sepsis, he said nothing. Tim knew what Dick was trying to do. This polite distance, not quite cold, not quite warm, was a dead sea any man could drown in. Bruce currently was. Dick intended to leave Tim here too, in the rolling distance, where no eyes could follow. Fat fucking chance.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim, said Dick from the memory; staring from a boy’s impish face; those torch-bright eyes, holding his frightened ones. I’m going to do my act—’specially for you. And Tim had watched. And Tim had never stopped, how could he ever stop?

“So, this friendly visit…” Dick slid him a chipped mug of water. “B asked you to check in, or is this gonna be a regular thing from now?”

“Naw, I was just,” Tim waved vaguely. “around.”

“And you got free mangoes.”

Tim sipped. “Thought I’d share my spoils of war.”

The cold hard truth: Tim needed a reason to see his brother now. A work reason. No one wasted Nightwing’s time. While dodging stilted dinners at the manor and Bruce’s guilt-marred face, Tim had spent the better part of his days turning the adoption offer in his head, plugging a fake uncle into his stage-life, not calling Dick, and tracking transactions in the deep web black markets. He had a lead to a CP ring tied to Gotham’s cluster of orphanages—just more children slipping through Her fingers, with no one to come looking. But Tim was looking now. Ten years too late, maybe, but looking all the same.

Bless Barbara and her detailed surveillance notes. He’d set up the alert as instructed and lost himself in the Styx waters of rote work, wading deep, the world submerged into the dull clack of fingers on a keyboard.

Tuesday morning, a new video was uploaded—the price tag: half a million in crypto.

The preview was fifteen seconds long. The footage, cast in near-darkness, had grain matching those recorded on a point-and-shoot that hadn’t been in the market for at least eight years. JVC VHS-C Camcorder, that was how old it was. But Tim knew that figure in the thumbnail. Canary-yellow cape, bloodied knees and pixie boots. A costume for someone ten apples tall.

Only one Robin was fighting against the affliction that was Gotham in single digits. And Tim would know him; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim.

“Get a visual,” was all Batman said, when he called an hour before. This was a case he didn’t think Batman was even supposed to know about, but Tim didn’t press; that voice, floundering in the undercurrent, was all Bruce. “I’ll take care of things here.”

Lung irritation, Tim thought. Grainy footage. Bruce’s cryptic-as-hell phone call. Charred split ends. Nightwing’s casual suicidal patrols? Yeah, Tim was going to dry-heave across Dick’s apartment floor; the inside of his mouth was all sour, like something gone bad overnight. Dick knew about the leak, but not that Batman and his underperforming Robin were on the case, too. Tim was gonna have to do it again—like his first day at the Cave, digging up the memory of Dick’s ghosts, not letting the damn dead stay dead.

Dick threw a hand towel at Tim’s face with a laugh. “Wipe your mouth, Timmy.”

Nicknames, huh.

If Dick hated him, he was hiding it well. Like a child, Tim obediently cleaned the pulp from his mouth. Then, like a coward: “Could I—bathroom?”

read the rest on ao3

#dick grayson #tim drake #dick and tim #dc #nightwing #my dick & tim thesis the drive to hypervigilantly perform vs the need to dismantle the truth FIGHT #bigdamnher0 #writing

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moonempire · 1 month ago

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AOT The Office AU

So I've been rewatching the office for probably the 4th time (it's too good) and I just keep thinking of the AOT cast in a similar scenario. Of course since Jean is my obvious favourite he'd be the jim-esque character, Levi and Stanley have similar personalities (maybe Angela too). Hange and Meredith. Erwin is so Michael Scott coded and Floch maybe some Andy vibes. I mean it kind of wouldn't fit perfectly but I want to give my vison ago:

So here we go Sales associate Jean x receptionist reader + overall

Headcanons: .Okie so obviously he finds random reasons to come up to your desk .doesn't say a word when he gets there just stares at you until you give him attention .shares a desk clump with Marco and Floch .used to be with Connie and Sasha too but those two had to get separated. Floch used to work down at the warehouse but levelled up and now Sasha sit with Historia and Ymir who keep her in check good cop bad cop style. Respectively. And Connie sits all by himself like the bad kid in a classroom. .Levi personally set up a desk for him, but its only caused Connie to wonder about from time to time .another desk clump is Reiner, Berthold and Annie, most of the noise coming from there is Reiner. Unfortunately it's sometimes weeping because a deadline is coming up and he's still got loads to do .sometimes Berthold has panic attacks when documents go missing .Poor Annie is basically a caretaker for both of them, to the point Erwin official made her the middle manager of their little department and gave her a raise .Down at the warehouse is Zeke (who Eren denied relation too for a long time) Porco, Marcel, Yelena (who Erwin thought was a really lanky guy for the first two weeks of her employment)and Colt whose still fairly new. Miche is in charge and does not give a shit and cause him and Erwin go way back when, so, he gets away with it. . Miche and Zeke do not get along at all, onetime they were both sent home for having a fight on the parking lot. Bets were placed, popcorn was made and there were tears. .They constantly have to kick Hange out, whose always doing dodge stuff down there. Nobody really knows what but they always emerge from the nook they've made for themselves with mysterious stains Hange Levi and Erwin are all Heads of department. Accounting, HR, and Sales respectively. Erwin and Levi share an office for god knows what reason and Hange likes to switch up desks every now and then. .Levi and Erwin did NOT get along at the start, sometimes they still don't.

Little Jean Scenario: so like I said Jean has a fat crush on you (the still fairly new receptionist). So it's one of those days where he comes up to your desk and just stares at you but you're actually busy proof reading a bunch of documents for Levi cause he didn't have time to do them himself. You look up at Jean with an exasperated look and sigh "What do you want now?" in a rather unamused tone, which he's not used to at all and mutters "Nothing" with a little pout and goes back to his desk. Unfortunately for him, Eren was going to make some copies at the exact moment and Connie was having one of his wonders about so both of his "biggest fans" had seen the awkward encounter. The pair circle behind him to his desk with massive grins on their faces, which Floch can't help but miss so pulls his face out of his screen

"Trouble in paradise?" Connie teases first, to which Jean grimaces at putting his glasses on and looking at his screen at nothing in particular. He would have been able to handle your tone no problem; the three Cheshire cats stood and sat around him are making it it impossible. "Oh look at him he's sulking." Eren adds "Did you get kicked out the bedroom Jean" Floch snorts which earns him three glares that scream "no one invited you". "Aww Jean come on now don't ignore us" Connie says poking the back of Jeans head. All this teasing is unbeknownst to you since you're having a hard time on the documents and Levi keeps poking his head out of his office to see if your done yet. In fact you hadn't even clocked the slight harshness in your tone when addressing Jean. Around half an hour later you knock on Levi and Erwin's office to return the proof read paper. Levi takes them from your hands then looks up at you.

"Can you check on Kirschtein for me" he asked in a stoic tone then mutters "Before he has another tantrum" before rolling his eyes and returning to his office. Levi had noticed Jean's sulky mood for the last half hour but didn't have time to tell him to "pull his socks up" like he normally does. So he unknowingly sent you to go resolve the little spat (as Jean's mind has now blown it up to be) with the now very moody salesman. So you do as you your told and go check on him "I'm fine" he replies not hiding the huff that escaped his throat then adjusting his glasses. "I never noticed you wore glasses." you say to him with an intrigued smile bring your face to align with his for a better look. His narrowed eyes catch your curious wide ones and he can't help but match. "I ran out of contacts, need to reorder." he says in the same tone but this time minus the huff. "They suit you, you should wear them more often" you tell him with sincerity or so he hears. The truth is most of the time when you speak to him it's how co workers (that perhaps like each other) talk to each other. But Jean's ears can't help but pick up every letter, every work, sentence and amplify the slight emotion behind it. "Good to know." he answers with a very small smile God, how could he have been so upset, he thinks to himself. You probably had no idea that you'd used that tone with him, you clearly didn't mean it he realises with the gentle conversation occurring. All his moodiness washes away and he sits up straight. "I don't think I've worn glasses since high school." he tells you feeling alot better. "Oh my god really, I have to see a picture." you giggle at the stroy he begins to tell. You lean on his desk for once while he's the one sitting looking up at you. You stay there until Levi pops out his offcie with more documents to proof read.

Ahh i love the office sm!!!! Also i don't think this is exactlyh what i wrote last time but hopefully its better :))

#jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x reader #attack on titan #reiner braun #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #connie springer #aot modern au #jean kirstein #jean kirsten x reader

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twst-kumi · 10 months ago

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Weeping Maiden

[ACT I]: CHAPTER 3

[ACT I]: CHAPTER 3

The weekend surprisingly came fast, mainly because the teachers were going easy on them for their first week in class. [Name] waited for Neige at the Tree rooms, she looked at the feminine face smiling tenderly at her.

“_Good morning, Princess! Oh? What a surprise we matched our outfit.”

She turned to see the young Idol running toward her. She wore a mint-colored plaid skirt, matching jacket, and white shirt. To her surprise, Neige’s outfit matched hers. He wore white and mint clothes instead of his usual color palette. [Name] smiled at the “coincidence” before going with him.

The young idol smiled happily as he held her hand firmly. They were so soft in his hand, that he wished that he could always keep her. Just like the mirror was used as a portal in NRC, they had to pass through the door at the tree's bark.

“_Wellcome to Shaftland, my homeland.”

[Name] looked in awe at the beautiful city. It had a very European style, a gorgeous mix between rococo and modern architecture that showed the rich history of the place. Neige smiled as he studied her face.

“_There you are Neige. And this is?

_Oh, right! [Name] this is my manager, if you need anything just ask him.”

The young girl greeted the woman politely. She looked quite sharp with her cat-like eyes. The woman looked at her up and down with a long hum, before turning toward Neige.

“_What agency is she from? I never heard of her.

_Ah, she’s a freshman in my school.

_In an all-boys school?

_It’s a special case”

She looked at her critically, almost like she was a pest. Neige put himself between them, trying to disperse the situation. The Manager still glaring at the young girl, huffed before walking to the car waiting for them.

“_Whatever, I believe I told you to be careful and avoid getting a girlfriend. What do you think will happen when your fans learn about it?

_I’m sure I can-!

_Oh no, we are not together. We are truly just friends.”

[Name] interjected quickly and ignored Neige's slightly hurt expression. An expression that didn’t go unnoticed by the manager’s curious eyes. The boy had a crush on the girl. It was obvious, so much, that the woman felt pity toward him. The drive was only punctuated with talk between the young idol and [Name]. The young boy talked excitedly about the movie and Vil. It's mostly about Vil. Once at the set, the young girl followed Neige and the manager inside the studio. It was surprisingly quite a normal set. Since it was a world full of magic, she expected them to work with many magic objects. Much to her surprise, they weren’t that different from her world.

[Name] tried her best not to be a bother to the crew who accepted Neige’s request. She tried to be as helpful as she could. The young girl was carrying a small cable box that was supposed to be given to the tech crew when she felt a strong hand slip the box from her grasp.

“_Seriously, who makes such a weak girl carry such heavy loads?”

[Name] could feel the warmth on her back. The man's presence against her back was making her conscious of herself. She looked up, her eyes met with familiar light-purple eyes. His pale blond hair fell around his face to highlight his beauty. Seeing it in person was far different than looking at an art book.

“_Good morning, I’m Vil Schoeneit. I don’t believe I saw you during the crew meeting. Are you new?

_Ah uh… I’m just helping around. I’m not…

_I see, so you are a newbie actress! Helping is good but you shouldn’t overexert yourself.”

Before [Name] was able to get out of her stupor, it was too late. Vil had already taken the box and walked ahead. Meanwhile, the Pomefiore dormleader was in turmoil. He could feel his heart beat uncontrollably. It was strange, he was sure he wasn’t one to act on emotion like that but the girl had a familiar warmth he couldn’t forget. And how could he? It was the same warmth Yuu gave off some time, before that incident. Vil couldn’t but feel attracted to the unknown girl. Now that he thinks about it, the Ramshackle prefect looked way too different from what he remembered, like he was always surrounded by light but not anymore. It was almost like something was preventing them from seeing the boy's unhinge personality before.

“_Where should we put this box?”

The young girl was a little startled reminding the young actor of a little rabbit. She hurried to catch up to him.

“_It’s for Kelvin.

_I see, it’s for one of the sound techs.

_Yes.”

Both walked to the crew as the others greeted Vil.

“_By the way, I didn’t get your name.

_It’s [Name] Yamada, nice to meet you Senpai.”

“[Name] Yamada”... Vil couldn’t help but test her name on his lips and tongue. He couldn’t help but feel illicit with how it deliciously rolled on his tongue. Until it dawned on him, Yamada was Yuu’s family name.

< previous. Next >

Tags

@cocomollo

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst x reader #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #neige leblanche #vil schoenheit #yandere neige leblanche #neige le blanche x reader #yandere twisted wonderland

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mousy-nona · 11 months ago

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First — I love your work and your account! Your characterization is incredible and I really enjoy your style. Second — Radioapple prompt! I know its a common one in the fandom, but I love the concept of them dancing/getting to know each other through mutual love of music. Not too specific, but I think it definitely has room to be cute! <3

A major sacrifice

But clueless at the time

Enter, Caroline

Just trust me, you'll be fine

“What is that noise?”

Lucifer turned around warily. It was always good to be wary around Alastor. “Music.”

Alastor gave him a Look. It was his “Don’t Be An Obtuse Idiot” look, the one he saved just for Lucifer.

He sighed. “It’s a song. The humans come up with some interesting stuff when left to their own devices.” He waved to the radio sitting on his desk. “It took a bit of work, but I managed to figure out how to connect this old thing to some of Earth’s music stations.”

Alastor’s ears twitched, a surefire sign he was interested and trying not to show it. He lowered himself down onto the other side of the sofa, and they listened in silence together.

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it

Another version of me, I was in it

I wave goodbye to the end of beginning.

“I’ve never heard of these instruments,” Alastor mused.

“Synth? It’s a pretty new invention. I believe it was heavily popular around the 1980s, and it’s gone in and out of style since then. What do you think?”

“It doesn’t have as much soul as a good saxophone or a piano riff, but it’s not horrible.” Alastor admitted. “I don’t suppose humans on Earth still listen to singers like Ella Fitzgerald?”

“Hard to match a once-in-a-lifetime artist like Ella,” Lucifer remarked. Alastor snapped his fingers, his eyes gleaming with pure, genuine delight. It was rare to see him so excited about anything that didn’t have anything to do with blood or death, and Lucifer drank it in like a man dying of thirst.

“Exactly,” Alastor grinned. “I see you don’t have completely irredeemable taste in music.”

“She’s fantastic, but you will not believe some of the stuff they have up there now.”

Alastor glanced at him with poorly disguised interest. “You don’t say? Do you happen to listen to these stations quite often?”

“Every night.”

Alastor paused, as if weighing his next words. “Would you mind a little company?”

The smile that exploded from Lucifer was unexpected – but not unwanted. And that was how the king of Hell and the Radio Demon declared a truce every night, between the hours of 12 AM to 1 AM.

—------------------------

“Boy, you’re in for a treat today,” Lucifer said as soon as Alastor walked in. “They’re playing electro swing on 58.3 The Breeze.”

Alastor furrowed his brow. “Electro…swing?” He shuddered. “Sounds positively horrid. Why ruin a perfectly good thing with extra noises?”

“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer,” Lucifer scowled. “Sit down, shut up, and give it a chance, will you?”

To his credit, Alastor did sit and shut up – for approximately ten seconds. Then he groaned. “This is a travesty. They’re calling this garbage swing?”

“Electro swing,” Lucifer corrected.

“No, no, enough of this swill.” Alastor snapped his fingers, and the song immediately cut off. “Let me show what true swing sounds like.”

A moment’s pause, then a new song came on the speakers.

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak…

Lucifer perked up. “This is…Louis Armstrong?” Just the sound of his voice brought back whispers of slower times, of smoky jazz clubs and whiskey in crystal glasses, of dreams laid out on silver screens. Suddenly, it was the 1950s again.

Alastor bowed and held out his hand, every move so darkly dashing it would make Fred Astaire weep with envy. But his eyes gleamed with challenge.

Dance with me? Asked Louis and Ella.

Spellbound, Lucifer took the devil’s hand. He placed the other on his shoulder hesitantly, but Alastor’s grip was strong and sure as he slowly led him around the room.

“I want my arms about you, the charms about you will carry me through,” Alastor hummed along. The old-fashioned words were perfect in his radio static, as if the song was made for the two of them, for this very moment.

Relax, you silly goose. He’s just singing the song. He’s not talking about you, Lucifer tried to reason with himself, but it was exceedingly difficult to think straight with Alastor’s face so very close. His voice – oddly lovely for a man who specialized in conducting screams – cast a spell over them. Time stopped. And Lucifer relaxed, letting Alastor’s song chase his worries away.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven!”

—------------------------

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

“You’re listening to this again?”

Lucifer blushed and scrambled to change it to another station, but Alastor materialized in front of the radio and covered the fast forward button with his hand before he could get to it. Damn those tricksy shadows of his.

“I…I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yes, that is one of the benefits of teleportation,” he said, as effortlessly smug as always.

“It’s not our usual time,” Lucifer frowned, peeking at the clock. 10 PM. Far too early for what was quickly becoming his favorite hour of the day, although he’d never admit it out loud.

“Well, I heard a cry for help coming from this room, so I thought I’d be a good neighbor and pop my head in,” Alastor said.

“Cry for help–” Lucifer started indignantly, but Alastor put a finger to his lips.

And the damn song was still playing.

So when everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive…

Lucifer turned so red his entire face resembled a tomato on fire. “I can listen to whatever I want during my private time,” he spluttered.

“That would be true, but I can hear your ‘private time’ from the other end of the hotel.” Alastor sighed, as if no one else in the history of the world had ever experienced the pain of a noisy neighbor. “So I decided to check on you, just to make sure you hadn’t fully devolved into an angsty child.”

“It’s silly, I know, but sometimes listening to this stuff makes me feel…like I’m not so alone,” Lucifer admitted, not quite able to look the demon in the eye. “It’s been a tough couple of years.” Tough couple of hundred years, but who’s counting?

Alastor didn’t say anything, but he didn’t leave either. Eventually, they turned the radio to another station – Billboard Top 100s, this time – and Alastor’s horrified face at “Think U The Shit (Fart)” made Lucifer laugh so hard water came out of his nose.

He completely forgot about his depression. At least for the rest of the night. And that was enough. That was more than Lucifer had had in a long time.

—------------------------

The next day, Lucifer came back to his room to find an old-fashioned ‘30s vinyl record player perched on his desk. A vinyl had already been set up, its arm perched delicately halfway through a song, ready for Lucifer to hit Play.

Attached to it was a note.

As a thank you for all the new music. -A.

So Lucifer hit Play.

Immediately, the swing of the sax and Ella’s clear, dulcet tones filtered through the speakers.

Blue days

All of them gone

Nothing but blue skies

From now on

I never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going oh-so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

The record stopped there, as abruptly as if the entire track had been magically wiped. No matter how many times he tried to reset it and play it again, that was the only verse on the record.

It didn’t matter. Had Alastor forgotten how ancient he truly was? Lucifer had been around for the dinosaurs, the age of ice, man’s first cities, and the launch to the moon. He remembered the greats, because that was his job. He was to live, and he was to bear witness.

He knew the rest of the song, even if Alastor had gone to such great lengths to erase it.

Noticing the days hurrying by

When you're in love, my how they fly…

He smiled. And he sang along, letting the vinyl spin and spin until the words themselves were nothing but senseless sounds and only Alastor’s promise remained.

“Blue days, all of them gone. Nothing but blue skies, from now on…”

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #duckiedeer #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor #alastor x lucifer #asks #prompts #on that note this post is definitely OOC on Alastor's part but fuck it sometimes i just wanna write something cute SUE ME #this is an ella fitzgerald appreciation post #also I’m terrible at music would appreciate song recs

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blakbonnet · 7 months ago

Note

curious about your favorite underrated artists/fic writers/creatives on here?? and maybe your specific favourite underrated fanwork??

Ooh. I love this question so much, anon ❤️

Underrated gif maker, and I say this with no bias, is definitely Ida @bizarrelittlemew because she just puts in so much effort in all her gifs. Ida looks through tutorials and then also does so much on their own, but mainly: if you look at all the recent gifs, they have such a unique Ida ™️ vibe to them. From rotoscoping (still don't know what that is) to playing with blending, Ida deserves to be right up there with one of the most creative gifmakers this fandom has produced recently.

Unfortunately I just very very rarely hang out reading ofmd fics T-T (I'm mostly in the hobbit and sandman fandom side of ao3) and there are a few writers I love and I tend to stick to them (xoxoemynn, forpiratereasons being the main ones) Most of what I read and like in the fandom is when a mutual ends up writing something that isn't modern au.

Having said that, underrated writer to me 100% is @palavapeite because their writing just never fails to transport me to whatever setting they're talking about. Listen, I just don't read modern AUs, they don't do it for me (def a me issue, I'm sure there are brilliant modern au writers in this fandom but it's something I filter out) but I would absolutely recommend this fic as something that brought me so so much joy, is fast becoming my more reread fic, because it did a perfect job with getting Stede's voice right. I can hear every single thing he says in my mind, it's SO good. Also their fic with priest!stede lives rent free in my head and I would soon find the time to read their non blackbonnet fics.

Another one is adamarks who, again, has such a good grasp on Ed and Stede's character that it doesn't matter which AU Jay has picked, it just always always works somehow. My favourite is this fic tho which is just so them that I might as well weep.

For artists, my recent faves (and I think they're underrated) are Lilo @harrylovesspaezle who's so so talented and I still can't get over that sketchbook tour - the growth and love for this show ough, @ofmderapolag whose pieces are just so so dreamy, and also @spookynadja whose style just floors me every single time.

I'd also like to shout out one underrated category, people who write such amazing text posts like @ourfag who obviously has the s3 scripts and is only sharing them with us in small increments due to the nda and @tulipseason for the currently unpublished book of "1 million ways I will articulate how much I love hit television show our flag means death"

and then there's my favourite most beloved cheerleaders who are always lifting up new writers and artists too like @marbledwings and @insteading ❤️ I especially love that everyone has a beautiful story with these two, you could ask any small or big writer in the fandom if they've been made to cry by wings or insteading and yeah, they're just lovely.

#asks #anonymous #I might have rambled a bit too much bestie #ofmd

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starberr · 1 year ago

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Cult of the Lamb Oc

{The Night Mother}

(Update 2.0)

(Template was made by my friend.)

[-Info-]

Name: Nyx

Nickname: mother (By some of the other gods), Ms.Moth

Alias: The Night Mother

Appaearance:

Age: (???)

Llikes: Caring for others, lullabies, Shiny things, Strolls around the Old Faith at night.

Dislikes: Disrespectful People, someone asking her age, remnants of the pantheon

Hobbies: Knitting/Weaving

God of what: Goddess of Night

Crown abilities: Can turn the sky dark in a fight, somehow it attracts fireflies. Nyx can summon four nails out of the Veil, they can drag the ground or impale anything in a radius. There is 4 nails in total that Nyx can use. She used to have many but were destroyed in the god war.

(She also likes to bless Children and sickly mortals with good fortune and health.)

Design of crown:

Cult name: Cult of the Weeping Night

Ideology of the cult: Nyx’s following, everyone helps taking care of each other, either by hard work or proactive efforts, they balance it. Even tho some look intimidating, they have good hearts and will be protect the weak.

Number of followers: 29

[-Backstory-]

Before the god war happened, Nyx was an advisor to her older sister while still working up to godhood. Her older sister, a goddess that brought the dawn, Eos. Nyx did her best on helping her older sister with her following while still managing with the upcoming ascension of her godhood.

….

But during the climax of the god war, Her older sister was struck down and died slowly life a dying light in Nyx’s arms and as that happened the stared shaped crown eye shuts and placed on the new goddess, Nyx, who brought an era of night until she pillaged the gods that slain her older sister down, but after the god war was over. She weeped a night sky of stars of the innocent souls and her sister she had lost. Filling it with lights that showed the mortals of their loved ones in the night sky.

….

Over the years she traveled in the old faith, finding four orphans from the wreckage from the god war on the way, she took them under her wings and watched them grow and helped them ascended to godhood. She Used to always check on them and help if they were asked. But when the sacrifices of the lambs started, she vanished into thin air. Only thing left was a snow plane that no one dares to step in.

….

Now of days she is nowhere to be located in the old faith and a mystery on where her cult to is located. But find some theorized that if you find the brightest star in the sky, the star is over the cult of the weeping night, many mortals think she is a myth. But some have said that if you are awake you might hear a faint tune of a lullaby in the dead of night and a trail of firefly’s.

[References + Extras!]

Younger + Mourning looks

Aka before and after the god war’

[-MasterList-]

(Drawings)

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb oc #cotl oc #Cotl Nyx

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lunisoular · 2 months ago

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Reminder that I flippi. Love your art so so muchh!!! The reason why I was motivated to draw more human characters and humans in general was because of how good you seem to be at it, hhdhvdbbddb

Keep doing your own thing, I'll love it no matter what.

I don't know what else to say besides that I was mainly thinking about what a Post-Timeskip Ace would look like in your style, but that might be a bit much considering I already gave you a request on New Year's, so I'm telling you this instead because I'm remembering the reason why I followed you in the first place-- bdbdbs

But yea

Hope your day's going good

THABK UOU SO MUCH……… thats so nice im weeping

sorry, i just woke up so this may be a little scrambled, but im so happy u like what i make ! i still can’t really believe that people can actually be inspired by what i do. like i inspired u to draw humans ?? thats INSANE

also thank u for the requests ! i know i said i’d do them and i’ve been meaning to but i’ve been feeling abnormally tired this week, so i havent been able to do much before losing energy. sorry….. !!!

also i got my learner’s permit yesterday, so my days have been pretty good ! :D

thank you so much for the kind words !! i appreciate them more than you could know. asks and comments like these really help me feel joy in what i make, and it makes me so so happy i could inspire people !! thank you, and keep drawing, your style is so adorable !!!

#also sonic win #sorry the replys a little long winded #i just woke up and i have very messy thoughts upon waking #soul spouts #also also - u guys are free to dm me is u ever want to chat or ramble aboht stuff !#either here or disc #hust remember that i am in fact a minor and will not hesitate to shut u down if anyone tried anything

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carriagelamp · 1 month ago

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It feels like I have been mostly reading duds this month… somewhat appropriately, I guess, given that January is rather the dud of months. About half of these books I really genuinely enjoyed (among others, Ducks, Fox 8, and Unseen Academicals were all great!) and the other half ranged from “fine but lacklustre” to “seriously?” I did end up reading more Canadian books than usual though, which was a pleasant surprise

Doctor Who: Twelve Angels Weeping

A reasonably fun Doctor Who short story collection that nominally had a “winter” conceit to tie them together but… not it didn’t. This could be read at any point of the year, it's not particularly Christmas-y. Instead each of the twelve stories focused on a different Doctor Who villain/monster, with the Doctor and his companions only occasionally featuring — it was actually rather refreshing!

Of the stories, my favourites were: Red-Eyed League (Praternoster Gang!!! I love love love stories with them!), Celestial Intervention, Student Bodies, A Soldier’s Education, The Rhino of 23 Strand Street, and Anything You Can Do. I think there was only one story I disliked enough to skip, the rest ranged from pretty good to at least passable.

Apothecary Diaries v2 & 3

Honestly, this disappointed me. I really truly loved the first book of The Apothecary Diaries but for the next two books I felt like I was forever waiting for something to happen. But it was really just more of the same episodic stories. Which, if that's what you want, it delivers! Obviously lots of people who aren't me love this series! But for me... no

It feels like this author is allergic to character development — or even character interactions! You get a few funny moments now and again, but absolutely nothing that’s willing to go past the surface. I understand that Maomao is not a very social or empathetic character (frankly it’s one of the things that I love about her) but there’s ways for an author to force character interactions and make characters go out of their comfort zone even if the character's themselves are reluctant. This author… doesn't. Maomao just bops around, doing her thing. Which is fine. But also boring.

Instead the novels hinge entirely on the quality of the mysteries which… frankly just aren’t in-depth enough or clever enough to carry that weight. So. Disappointing. I might try watching the anime at some point to see if that’s more enjoyable because I do still enjoy Maomao and Jinshi… maybe that’s why I’m most annoyed, because this has potential that is just seems to do nothing with…

The Bookshop: A History of the American Bookstore

Another disappointment. I saw this on so many 2024 book list round-ups! I’ve been looking for a new nonfiction book! It’s about bookshops!!! But despite this perfectly cocktail, this just… didn’t do it for me. I was more interested in getting a larger, overarching look at how things evolved, which this book gave a little bit of, but it spent too much time in the weeds for me. It focused a lot on single, specific bookstores and people. Maybe because I’m not American and don’t know these towns/stores/people so they have less impact, but I found it got so entrenched in kinda repetitive minutiae that it lost sight of the bigger picture that I was craving.

Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands

Now this was a pleasant surprise. I’ve read Kate Beaton’s works before (I think everyone on the internet has… Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside, Pops)

but I hadn’t been aware that she’d done a new graphic novel or that it was going in a more serious direction than her gag-a-day style!

Ducks is a memoir-style comic that looks at Beaton’s time working on the Albertan oil sands to pay off her student loan debts, and the horror that comes from taking so many people and forcing them into a pressure cooker of a work environment. The oil sand camps tend to be quite northern, intensely isolated, very male-dominated, and run by the bastard oil companies that treat employees like disposal commodities to shove into their meat grinder. The conditions are horrific, and what Beaton experiences is also horrific. This graphic novel does a great job giving a sincerely nuanced look at these conditions and poses some very difficult questions about human nature and society.

Eerie Tales from the School of Screams

Just a fun youth horror graphic novel! I’ve enjoyed Graham Annable (the Grickle)’s work for years, mostly through his youtube shorts and Puzzle Agent, so I was excited to see him put out a standalone book. His signature style -- in art, humour, and horror -- is very present in this work, and it tells a few different horror short stories in a way that’s inviting to younger readers while still being able to give a thrill to older readers. Definitely worth giving a read!

Fox 8

A very neat short story that I also saw crop up on some 2024 reading lists. I listened to its half-hour audiobook and was very happy to do so! It’s told in the perspective of a fox who is struggling to understand why his forest has been ravaged, the ensuring food scarcity, and the people that now live there. It primarily focuses around Fox 8’s fascination with the humans and the “mall” that they’ve built where the forest once stood. Equal parts funny and tragic with a very unique narrative voice.

Just Beyond the Very, Very Far North

A very cozy children’s novel. I’d read The Very, Very Far North last year and was excited to see it had a sequel. It follows a group of animal friends who all live in The Very, Very Far North, and deals mostly with low-stakes friendship challenges and personal problems. It's written in a very Winnie-the-Pooh style — not the most exciting book you’d pick up, but it feels perfectly designed to be a bedtime readaloud.

My Dress-Up Darling v4

Another meh for me. I enjoyed the first few books of this series which focus on a girl who wants to get into cosplay but lacks the skills to do so, and a boy who is interested in things like sewing and outfit design but has only ever used it for crafting hina dolls. Their growing friendship is cute and I like all the research that went into this! But this one… just didn’t do it for me. I enjoyed some parts well enough (the budget cosplay chapters were neat!), but while the past three books I found had a good balance between plot and fan-service, this one felt like too much fan-service and too little substance. I probably won’t buy anymore, but I might keep reading them through the library, because I am invested in the cuteness of the main couple and the pretty costumes...

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind v1

………..I’m going to commit a grave sin and say that I actually didn’t love this. Maybe it’s because Nausicaa isn’t my favourite Ghibli film, but I found this so politically dense that I just got… bored. The art was pretty though, of course, and it would be an excellent read for anyone who really liked Nausicaa the film and would like to delve deeper into the lore, because it is apparently a LOT more expansive than the film is able to touch on.

Nim’s Island

A kidlit classic (even though it only came out in the 90s… it feels like a ~classic~ for some reason? Or that’s the vibe I’ve always picked up) that I’ve meant to read since I was a kid myself xD I finally did it! It’s a Robinson Crusoe style story about a girl who lives on a small island with her father, who’s a Scientist Performing Science. The story starts with her father needing to go to sea to do Science and getting stranded, so we see Nim needing to manage the island on her own while corresponding with an author through email. It’s cute. A little dull, the plot varies between slow to non-existent. I might have liked it more as a kid, but as an adult it really didn’t do it for me.

The Teller of Small Fortunes

A cosy fantasy book that follows Tao, a fortune teller who specializes exclusively in reading “small fortunes” for people, reluctant to do anything bigger out of fear of drawing the Mage Guild’s attention. As she travels though she winds up telling a wandering mercenary’s fortune which have significantly bigger implications than she could have expected. Tao suddenly finds herself saddled with the mercenary (who is determined to see if stick around after hearing his fortune), as well as an ex-thief, a less-than-successful baker, and an ornery cat. For the first time in a long time, her life is suddenly full of people as she continues to travel the land and give out her small fortunes.

Cosy fantasy can be hit or miss for me (sometimes they feel agonisingly dull and pointless) but this one had just enough action and intrigue to keep a good forward momentum going. I enjoyed all the characters, and though I didn't think it totally stuck the landing the first half was very charming and I would recommend it to anyone that wants something soft and pleasant and magical.

Unseen Academicals

This must be my third or fourth time rereading Unseen Academicals, it’s one of my favourite Discworld novels; it’s technically the final book of the Wizard’s series, but it functions largely as a standalone since it has an entirely new cast of main characters and the wizards serve mostly as background cast. And man, did Sir Terry Pratchett absolutely nail his cast for this book. Mr Nutt, Trev, Glenda, and Juliette are all completely perfect and interact with each other in really interesting ways.

Technically this book is about football (soccer). More technically, it is not even remotely about football. More, more technically, it’s all about football. Also it's about gender and socio-economics and model minorities and genocide. Also it's Romeo and Juliette except it's not and also Romeo woke up in time to realise how stupid everything is.

Street football has always been popular in the city, creating a complex and occasionally violent subculture among the various streets and their teams, but now the higher-ups are beginning to take notice. Just as the wizards are starting to get involved in this Sport Of The People, other characters are determined to escape it and its ever present Shove. As always, Terry Pratchett does a great job dissecting people and society in a way that is both very poignant, a little tragic, and hilariously funny. Can’t recommend it enough, even if you’ve never read a Discworld book before.

#book review #discworld #terry pratchett #nausicaa #ghibli #doctor who #kate beaton #hark a vagrant #ducks #oil sands #canadian #canlit #queer lit #unseen academicals #teller of small fortunes #fox 8 #the very very far north #book reviews

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cirqosmos · 2 years ago

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Seven Lifetimes of Unfortunate Fate : PART 1

2023 | 13+ | 1k | ONESHOT | PARK JONGSEONG × READER

GENRE/WARNING reincarnation, red string of fate, freaking angst, fluff, romance, murder/death.

AUTHOR'S NOTE i'm in for some angst and wanna break some hearts >:) i initially wanted to make this fic reach till their seventh life but anywayss i could just do another part whenever I had the time so this is very short. after all this is for practicing a different writing style while breaking some hearts <3

first and second life.

"i hereby declared the two of you as husband and wife!"

a melodic hymn towards his ears and yours, not even a second did he waste in pulling you into his embrace, long fingers brushing against your neck as he mouthed for your eyes to see. "you have no idea how happy i am to have you as my wife, right now."

giggling like a child, you did, as you took a chaste kiss from his cheek. "so did i." this very moment of you and him, sealing each other's destiny by holding each others red string of fate you two were oblivious of—alot more tighter with intent; to never let each other for eternity, regardless of how many years had passed, or how many lives would come upon you two.

in this life, you shall remain loyal to him till your last breathe.

many years had passed since then, life has been nothing but utter bliss with Jay as you are now bearing his child, your and his firstborn. When you broke out the news to him, he was beyond ecstatic and even broke down over how he had been hoping for a child someday, and to have one with you, his lover.

since then, Jay had took personal classes on how to be a good father and the necessary measures on how to look after a child and such. That gestures of his never fails to evaporate your heart to a melting pot, as you cooed towards the child in your swollen belly. "look, baby. your father and i are beyond excited to have you. come out faster, will you?"

"i'm home!"

you answered back to jay, and your eyes softened at the sight of your husband who didn't waste any second to fall on his knees before you—placing a loving delicate kiss on your lips and then onto your belly. hushing a lullaby he made towards his child.

a lullaby so comforting and delicate to touch, a home of made of love. a protection you pray for the gods to bestow upon you, your lover, and your child.

your lips pulled up in a contented smile, as you weave the handkerchief you've intended to give to Jay on his approaching birthday. your lover's day of birth, happens to be the day your child will arrive to the world as well.

"y-you're not jay.." protecting your belly with your trembling hand as you step backwards in attempts to evade the approaching stranger, you begin to tear up over how beyond terrified you are for what was about to come.

pitch darkness enveloped the path, and soaked he was under the heavy storm as he carried the customised doll from work, a thousand thoughts run through his mind as to what you've cook for dinner today, and how he was going to tell you what had happen throughout his day, or how giddy he was to be able to talk with the baby once again.

his features adorned with relentless euphoria as he pushes the door opened, exclaiming at the top of his voice. "i'm home!"

yet the sight that often greets his dark grey orbs that had his lips pulling up in greatest bliss, a sight he had seen a thousand times yet always been dying to see every time he came back home were splattered with dark horrors he wishes he had never seen.

jay fall before your lifeless corpse with your belly slit open, the sight of the tiny hand hanging out of your protruding tummy—his orbs glistened with tears, a wholly void deepens in his heart as his trembling hands held the tiny hand, weeping. "m-my.."

his glistened orbs fell on you, "l-love?" cupping the side of your cheek with his hand, as his other hand remain on your child's. "i-i'm h-home.. you can w-wake up now."

his jaw clenched as excruciating pain of reality sank onto his body, as if every bone in him are bound to snap, his ribs protruding causing his chest to ache tremendously.

"i'm home! l-look, i bought a doll for our child!" his trembling fingers tried to put the doll against the tiny grasp of the hand, "dad is here, wake up!"

thus the man fell in the greatest test of his life, as he wandered about the bustling city with no destination to rest upon, a home to be in the arms of whom, with only the remaining part of himself was contained in the depths of the doll resting on his arms.

hollow void. solemn and torment. an excruciating lifetime with his red string now snapped—hanging low on the ground with no connection.

"a doll?" the old maiden appalled by the object placed on her table amongst her materials, she grabbed it and inspected it accordingly. "hm, how much do you charge this, young man?"

"take it." said Jay, with orbs looking down to the soil—the gleaming sun rays affecting his vision—beyond blinding it was, to feel the heat; a proof of life. but inside the cage of his ribs, his heart remained still, awfully hollow. "i don't need it anymore."

thus the man go on about the long deserted path, severely malnourished he was by how his cheekbones had protruded and his lips chapped with dehydration, and in his orbs lies no signs of will to live. he looks down to the soil where his lover's feet had stepped a millionth times, and to the scorching sky where his lover's soul now lies within.

"i pray that in our next life," his voice hoarse and cold, "that we will be lovers once again, and when that happens, i promise i'll protect you."

"huh? why are you giving me a baby doll?" you raise your eyebrow suspiciously at the old maiden placing a doll of a baby on your palms.

"nothing in particular," she shrugged, "just thought, it would give protection on you. a young man had sold it to me without any price. so you have no need to pay, either."

"b-but i'm not pregnant!"

"you can when you have a child later."

"bold of you to assume that, old lady."

you went on about your journey to the countryside, as a young lady and firstborn of the noble family—you were assigned with a fairly important task to watch upon the business farms your father had last checked quite a month ago. to evaluate your skills, you took the rare gem of a chance and prove to your goddamn step-brother that you rightfully own a spot in the family's business.

welp, easier for you to say, as right now you were sprinting for your life away from the approaching bugs and bees like chasing after you—all while screaming for help cause why there's so much bees in the farm?!

your jaw gaped down hard when you caught sight of a man with a straw hat on, his back facing you—fully unaware of the tragedy that's about ensue.

"no—no—get away you! the man over there! oh my god—" his eyes met yours, and together widened instantly at the realisation of what was about to come. he stumble backwards in attempts to run away but to your utter bad humour, you burst into laughter while tears dripping down your eyes over how scared you are too.

bam!

your legs had given up, colliding against the man who's now beneath you. a series of groan emitted from you and him, there a couple of curses left his mouth much to your surprise.

"why are you even running?!" he spat out, pushing you away from his arms. you frowned, what a hideous attitude indeed. you exaggeratedly sigh, dusting off your skirt not even sparing him a glance due to his ugly manners.

"for your information, i warned you. but you had such a slow reflex that this tragedy had occured!" you fought back, gritting your teeth at your expensive gown now in greasy mess.

"for your information, there's no point in running when the bees don't even sting!" you've finally got the chance to look at his face beneath the straw hat he wore, your tongue immediately curled upon his gorgeous features, however mirroring your expression in a much larger scale.

"what? cat got your tongue? what are you even looking at?" he spat out with his left eyebrow raised.

"w-what? they don't sting?" your face contorted horrendously at the buzzing bees that had passed over the both of you awhile ago. "please, how was i supposed to know?!"

"not any of my concerns, obviously." the man raised the corner of his lips in downright mockery, "now get off me!"

you let out a yelp at his unbelievably harsh push at your shoulder, "why can't you have at least an ounce of manners?!"

"please, a bossy young lady like you? i could see by your whole fit just where you truly came from." your jaw dropped at how he look downs at you with total contempt.

you scoffed at him newfound blazing rage, swaying your head in atrocious exaggerated manner in attempts to frustrate him even more. "hello, sir? i definitely can see how of a righteous person you are for treating me like this, i. am. so. honoured!"

the man emitted a horrendous groan as beads of your saliva splattered across his face, wiping it he did with utter disgustment. "yah! oh- oh my god! close your mouth!"

"why?" you leaned in closer, "why would I?!"

it's safe to say, the man immediately stood on his feet all while pulling your collars up, forcing you to get up as well. "y-yaah! get your dirty hands off me!"

his fingers tightly gripped the material of your collar, pulling your face closer to his which had your orbs rattling in utter chaos. with his sharp jaw clenching and his dark grey orbs piercing right to your soul, he doesn't seem very pleased at all.

"i guess we're fated to be enemies in this life, huh?"

#enha #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #jay enhypen #jay x reader

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luveline · 3 months ago

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okay so i didn’t wanna show all the screenshots and a lot of them are actually smaller passages, usually little moments where you really capture the subtleties of life and humanity and relationships. i wish i could capture that stuff the way you do. your brain seems like a truly wonderful thing!! anyway here’s a few i picked out…

“You craved nighttime, when it was coal black and the night sky weeped pearls and you could finally relax knowing that everybody else was asleep, when you could feel safe knowing that nobody would come looking for you for hours to come.”

“Kissing someone isn't something you thought you'd want to do before you met Eddie. To be kissed, sure. To give a chaste peck, absolutely. But to have someone put their weight on you, to press at the seam of your lips with their own and to wade in like a steady wave, one breath at a time, until you're unsure where the boundary of your mouth begins and his ends, that was all new. Eddie kisses like he loves, loud and brash, rough and eager. Gentle when he needs to be but arduous.”

“He meets your eyes. He loves your eyes. He knows you don't. You're not insecure in a way he feels he can fix — if he can fix any of it. It's like you dissociate, for lack of a better word, from the things you can't love. You don't look in the mirror, won't let him take photographs of you. You don't say it. You call yourself stupid, weird, silly. Never ugly.”

“You aren't some master, though you try, and you aren't a natural talent...You try sometimes. Nothing seems right. Most people have a style, charm, but you could draw a picture perfect copy of the day in front of you and still feel the lack; you have no idea what it is that makes other people's art beautiful, and that's the problem.”

i could probably go on and on about how much i adore your writing and how much i relate to some of the things you write but i’m sure you’re busy and i have the rest of arcane to finish watching so i’ll leave it here <333

okg. It’s so funny cos reading some of those bits im like what was I saying and i know I wouldn’t write it like that now but I do think that’s the beauty in writing more to be able to look back at things I wouldn’t think to write now and it’s so special that you like them as they are even when I think it’s a little amateur ! but the word amateur does come from the love of the thing so it’s not like it’s bad. And it’s also strange to see my self loathing come through rather aggressively, but it’s a good thing at the same time cos clearly I don’t want to say you relate but you like those parts which makes being plainly confessional worth it! thank you for spoiling me with that angel 😭

#jade's asks #ily

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bluebird722 · 1 year ago

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Giving a Chance

Summary: He thought that his feelings would go away after the three years. He worries that she will not give him that chance. An imagining of the final episode.

Pairing: Jeankasa, implied Aruani

Rating: K

AN: So the inspiration for this story was born right after I began scrolling through AOT posts on Instagram (since I started following Jean's, Mikasa's, and Pieck's English VAs' accounts) and saw how downright nasty people can be to each other in the fandom! Anyone who even mentions Jeankasa faces an enormous wave of protests from Eremika shippers, people attack each other for suggesting that she deserves to move on and be happy even without him, and commentors fight over the whole "virginity/flowers" symbolism. It got to a point where (aside from not wanting to look at even AOT fanart anymore) I thought if Yams intended for Jeankasa to be endgame, why not illustrate how it could have evolved? How could a character continue to love the one who saved her life and still develop a loving relationship that would give her joy? I hope you enjoy reading of it as I had dreaming of it and putting pencil to paper.

Jean eagerly combed back his hair and tried to conceal his excitement that, after three long years and the most trying years of his life, he was getting closer to the dream life about which he had been dreaming for years. Any time that something was not going as intended or he missed home, he thought about what he still needed to do: get his dream apartment, find the right woman, save up for the best liquors, have a baby or two, and contemplate that he was good enough of a person to deserve those fortunes.

For whom am I trying to look good for? he thought to himself, reflecting on Pieck’s question. Not just the ladies who will read history books one day–but good looks and good vibes go hand in hand, he thought with a smirk. All they needed to do was meet with the Queen and other diplomats, and then a visit to the grave, and then…whatever else he needed to do before his dream life–much better than if he had joined the Military Police as intended years ago–could finally begin.

Then they arrived back to Paradis, wrapped up their meeting a little before twilight, and made the trip to the grave, where Mikasa was waiting for them at the bottom of the hill, and Jean felt like the atmosphere had crashed around him.

As Mikasa embraced Armin, who practically lifted her off her feet in their hug, he noticed how much she had changed, from her hair length to the style of her clothes now that she had given up the way of the warrior. He had rarely seen her in anything both so casual, so feminine, and so civilian, so the combination of pink and blue gave her a new aura of beauty. She even grew out her hair, the long hair that he remembered adoring when he first met her.

She’s still so beautiful, Jean thought to himself. However, that was not the moment to think about that. Now was the time to mourn their late friend, who died for freedom.

Jean managed to concentrate on the burden and peace that Eren had left for his beloved friends to save the destroyed world and make it better, but somehow it was easier imagined than experienced. It’s all right, Jean, he thought. Soon Paradis will be at peace. Maybe one day we can imprison or reprogram the Yeagerists, and my family won’t have to live under the Queen’s protection anymore, and then I can focus on having the perfect house and family…

Then he looked up at Mikasa, who was comforting a weeping Armin, and felt a sudden heavy pressure in his chest. All those feelings that he remembered having since they first met and stifled every time he saw how she had feelings for Eren, and feelings that he continued to suppress until they didn’t give him a dull ache in his heart, came back.

Jean gazed at her out of the corner of his eye as they waited to lay down flowers. She had already set down four–the number meaning that nothing would separate the two of them. Even after everything that Eren had put her through, risked for their loved ones, and inflicted upon the outside world, she still felt the same about him.

For three years, he thought that he had gotten over Mikasa even at the mention of her name. Then just the sound of her voice and the change in appearance unlocked what he thought was long gone.

***

The ambassadors were to stay in an undisclosed house until the Queen was certain of their outside safety. Connie, Armin, Reiner, and Jean shared one half–two men in each room–while Pieck and Annie had their own, with a kitchen between for heating tea and a bathroom for each group. After visiting Eren’s grave and a quiet dinner with the Queen, the ambassadors went to their undisclosed house while Mikasa returned to her own that the Queen set up for her and in which she was safe after returning home from Marley. Mikasa, however, was not ready to return yet. She visited with the ambassadors, caught up with them over tea, and informed them of how much worse the Yeagerists had grown. Some Paradi natives were willingly moving out of the island in hopes of finding a better life in a foreign land. This unsettled Reiner and Pieck, who planned to move back to Marley, while Annie was uncertain about her future.

“As long as we’re together,” said Connie, “do you think…we could survive this?”

Only Armin was fully convinced, but Mikasa expressed hope that it was possible.

***

Groaning, Jean kicked away the blanket and sighed into his pillow. Sleep could not come to him for two hours. It was black outside, and his body ached with fatigue.

Careful not to wake up Reiner in the other bed, Jean carefully opened the door and walked barefoot into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and looked at himself in the mirror, with his preferred stubble length and the hair that remained polished and well groomed even after a long day.

Then he unbuttoned his shirt, turned on the faucet, splashed cold water over his face twice, and cried harder than he ever did in his life.

For goodness sake, Mikasa, he bitterly thought, which made hot tears run faster down his cheeks, why can’t I get over you?! It’s been three years, and I thought things would change! If you wouldn’t change, I could… It’s been three years, and I still think about you that way! I still dream about falling in love with you, imaging you as my life partner, the mother of my children—things that I never imagined until we were getting ready to stop Eren!

Jean weakly looked at himself in the mirror. I could be everything you want, everything you need, but I’m not him! I could give you everything I have and more, but you would still love him more than anything else in the world. If you could have your way, you would bring him back to life and have a life with him–a life…a married life that I would not want with anyone I didn’t feel as I did with you! He hung his head and sobbed. Why can’t I let you go if you don’t want me?

I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone, he thought. You deserve love and peace, to know that there are people out there who love you and only want the best for you! Even if you gave me a chance, I would never tell you to forget about him! I would still take you to visit his grave, I would never make you get rid of that scarf, and if you ever needed to miss him, I could spend hours awake at night with you for as long as you needed it…

Jean took deep, haggard breaths and let the tears fall with the droplets dripping from his face and hair. I could be everything you want and need, but I’m not him.

***

The conferences with the Queen and the island’s earliest cohort of allies continued on for about two more weeks, leaving the ambassadors exhausted every night. It was more tiring than if they fought the Rumbling all over again, but their temporary house and tightened security gave them some assurance that things could change for the better. Dinners in which Mikasa joined them sometimes helped, though it only bothered Jean even more.

Fortunately, despite the Yeagerists taking over the island, the inhabitants continued to live as before everything changed. With mainland influence came new fashions, new technologies, new music, and new food. Two days before Reiner and Pieck were to board a steamboat back to their birth country, the alliance decided to go to a street festival and see to what extent the cuisine and fashion were growing on the island.

Jean tried not to look at Mikasa, who stayed at Armin’s side the whole time, as they walked around the festival. Some vendors were selling different flavors and types of bread, the people at an ice-cream stand were handing sample cups to about five children to taste before choosing what to buy, and, to Connie’s absolute delight, a vendor was selling various kinds of fried chicken, which he had become obsessed with while staying in Marley.

“What do you think, Mikasa?” he eagerly asked the black-haired woman who blinked at the different options like she couldn’t comprehend how people could make so many ways to make chicken taste different. Fortunately, Annie said that they would have one of everything just to let Mikasa try one of everything, from mild to spicy to sweet.

Jean sat on the opposite side of Mikasa when she and the alliance sat down with all kinds of chicken. Some of it looked gross, and some smelled so appetizing. Watching her eat from the chicken bone was kind of amusing, in Jean’s opinion, as were the faces she made. Some were too sweet, some seasonings could go together, and even some of the spicier ones were rather good. Annie, naturally, selected the ones sweetened with brown sugar and caramel flakes; Connie wolfed down his meal–one of everything, like Mikasa’s–and went back for more.

“So tell me more about the foods you ate in Marley,” said Mikasa to everyone, “and what you got to eat that I didn’t have when I…when we first went there.”

Everyone had a story to tell. Armin recalled trying grilled and fried and sauteed duck, and attempting to make his own. Connie talked about something called a sloppy joe that was messy but downright delicious. Jean mentioned escargots and how people flavored the snails. Annie, Reiner, and Pieck said that one day, hopefully soon, Mikasa could go to Marley and not be limited to just vanilla ice cream; Marley sold, and continued to make, drinkable ice cream called milkshakes offered in many delicious flavors like chocolate, peanut butter, fudge, and caramel.

Mikasa nodded along and was full after eating all the chicken, but she was so glad to try each flavor. “I will definitely taste each one,” she said quietly. “I just can’t believe that we missed out on so much.”

Jean shrugged but grinned. “That’s why, when I meet the right woman and have children, I’m taking them to events like this so they can grow up experiencing everything that I would have really liked when I was a boy.”

Most of the alliance smiled, but then Jean felt the blood drain from his face. Why did he have to mention a family, children, at that moment? Sure, he knew that adults had an expectation on children to grow up and become parents, and Jean knew his parents felt the same about him, but to actually realize that a family life was something he would like even though he never really imagined one for himself until the Rumbling was starting, when he used an imaginary future as an escape from reality, struck him almost painfully.

Well, he thought to himself as they started talking about something else, just remember–it’s not worth having a family if you are not happily partnered with someone who wants to be your partner on the biggest project of your life. Then he looked at Mikasa and the scar that he remembered from his dream. It just wouldn’t be her, since she wouldn’t want to have had a family with anyone else.

***

After Reiner and Pieck’s steamboat faded from view, Mikasa accompanied the remaining alliance to the shared house, with the Queen’s security team, to spend the night and rest so they could wake up early the next morning to reunite Connie and his mother. Annie, who had decided to start over with her life in Paradis but hoped to visit her father soon, ordered cookies and tiny cakes to munch along with their afternoon tea and sat by Armin’s side the entire afternoon. Jean, who had cooked for everyone omelets like his mother had taught him, knew that Armin was jittery about their seating position but still could not wash away that horrible feeling of jealousy.

It was a nice, sunny afternoon that day, so Jean decided to finish his work outside and conclude the day’s sunlight with his sketchbook and charcoal. Drawing was like reuniting with a friend long separated since childhood. Jean appreciated how much bigger the city appeared now that the walls were gone. He no longer felt like cattle trapped in a pen when he thought about what he had experienced.

“Jean?”

The voice gave his heart a prickling sensation. He cocked his head at the eyes that haunted his most recent dreams. He chastised himself for thinking of how beautiful she was when he knew that she could never find him as attractive. “Yes?” he hesitantly asked.

“Are you done with your tea?” she asked with her finger pointing to the cup and saucer at his side, to which he shook his head and said that he would be in later for a warmer brew. He wanted her to leave him alone so he could forget about her and fall head over heels for someone who would love him over any other man in the world.

Then again…Eren tried to push her away. He insulted her, said nasty things to her that were devastating to someone he considered a sister…but she still held on.

I’m not him, Jean thought to himself. He looked up at Mikasa peering over the balcony at life below them. He inched closer for sketching inspiration. Two children who looked to be brother and sister were carrying armfuls of books that he suspected came from the new library. An elderly couple walking by ate a doughnut split in half. Two women, one hugely pregnant, were lounging outside a cafe and laughing.

Jean sighed to himself, wistfully hoping that he didn’t have to make too many more painful sacrifices for strangers below to live these deserved lives, and noticed that Mikasa stared under the balcony and then turned away with an almost pained expression. You don’t deserve her, he thought to himself. In a fresh state of anger, he tore in half the page on which he was sketching.

Mikasa sharply moved her head in his direction. “Jean?” she asked. “What was that?”

Jean looked down at the paper half crumbled in his fist and closed his eyes. Lie, he told himself. “Just…I just hope I’m heading in the right direction,” he said. He felt her looking at him and knew that she wasn’t going to look away. Sighing, he went on: “When I was a boy, years ago… I used to sketch what I wanted in adulthood, like how I wanted my home to look in the Military Police, what the city would look like from my window…even…” He swallowed. “...even how…how I imagined what my future wife would look like.”

Mikasa didn’t move or change her expression.

Keep making things up, he thought. Don’t let her suspect anything. He looked down at the sketchbook with a heavy sigh. “But then…things are taken away from you.” He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Like, the Battle of Trost, and seeing what happened to people we knew and trained with…and how I didn’t want to join the MP anymore…”

Still, Mikasa didn’t move or make a face. Jean looked away from her. “And thinking…with all that’s going on here in this island… would I be able to find someone, a woman…even though…” He stumbled and swallowed. “Even though this position as ambassador is supposed to be for the greater good of this island…what woman would want to risk her life to be with me if being an ambassador meant that Connie’s and my families had to rely on the Queen for protection?”

Mikasa knelt down at a reasonable distance from him. “Don’t you think that the right woman would want to take that risk?” she asked in her usual stoic voice. “If she loves you so much…then it would be a worthwhile relationship.”

Jean twisted his mouth. “But now…it would be hard to find her, because of the Yeagerists.” When Mikasa blinked, he explained: “Like, you don’t know who believes in them and who secretly opposes them, but you’re at a point where you can’t trust anyone for fear or retaliation.” Jean stared at the charcoal under his fingernails. “And let’s say I meet and fall for someone who used to side with the Yeagerists. I…I don’t know if I would be able to look at her the same, knowing that about her.

“Like…you know how Rico is a Yeagerist? And Hitch?”

Mikasa nodded with her mouth in a straight line.

“Let’s say they stop being Yeagerists and decided to work with us.” Jean sighed. “Like…knowing what I know now, I–I could never see myself really being even friends with them at this point in my life. It’s like when a friend lies, and it can ruin your friendship for so long, if it’s not already destroyed.”

“I understand,” said Mikasa.

Jean opened, then closed his mouth, and finally gave in. “Do you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “It is already difficult for me now, especially because of my affiliation with Eren. They know how close we were, so I still get Yeagerists asking me to join them, and they always say that he did it for me, for everyone on this island.” She shook her head. “No matter how much I miss him…I could never associate myself with a group that would proudly kill innocent lives and children. What he wanted was beyond my limits, and as much as I did not want to take his life…”

Jean felt guilty for bringing up painful feelings and angry with himself for reiterating that her love for Eren was strong enough to overlook where he hurt her indirectly, such as a desire to kill even children. He remembered questioning why in Liberio he couldn’t kill that boy who turned out to be Falco. Was it because he himself was unwilling to murder a child? It didn’t matter anymore. He set down his sketchbook, picked up his cup and saucer, and walked inside, where he washed the cup and saucer through grinding teeth. I’m not him, he thought. I could be everything you ever wanted or needed in a partner, but you would see only him and fantasize about him every time we–we…

Jean tried not to think subtle thoughts–of bedsheets, of panting, hands grasping bare backs, two bodies bringing the other to pleasure, morning kisses and nuzzles, and arms around waists, of two bodies trying to spend as much time together as possible. He closed his eyes and pushed his forehead against the cabinet.

For goodness sake, why can’t I get over you?! We’ve been through so much together, good and bad, that I thought these feelings would go away! You would not even want to imagine me as anything more, let alone even dream of a married life with me! You could marry as many men as you’d like and still insist that you be buried with that scarf and beside Eren at the tree, because no man’s love could ever fill that hole that he left you!

“Jean?”

He cocked his head without pulling away from the cabinet. She had come back inside and held his sketchbook and charcoal in one hand. “You left this outside. It’s supposed to rain later today.”

His sigh was not in relief. “Thank you.” He listened to her set down the sketchbook and turned back to the saucer under the soapy water. Why can’t I let go of these thoughts…

“Excuse me?”

Jean slightly jumped. It was Mikasa’s voice. “What?” he asked.

“You said something under your breath,” she pointed out. “Something about thoughts…”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just…lost my faith that things could get better.” He resumed washing the cup and saucer, but she didn’t move away.

For someone who didn’t like to talk about her feelings, she was making it awfully hard to deny his emotional turmoil.

“That’s odd to say, coming from an ambassador who is working towards peace,” she said in her usual monotone.

Jean remembered when he said that he could not imagine being friends with Rico or Hitch should they leave the Yeagerists. He knew that confessing his feelings to Mikasa would destroy whatever relationship they had, and that she could never think of him as a friend again. Frustrated, he dropped the porcelain in his hands and hung his head. “It’s been three years,” he croaked, “and…I still can’t rid of these feelings I have. I thought that my time in Marley, and being an ambassador–they would go away. But then I came home after these three years…”

He gripped the edges of the sink. “I thought they would go away like my ambition to join the Military Police,” he spat. “But these feelings…why can’t I force them to go away?”

“Feelings,” she repeated.

Jean felt set up and swallowed nausea bubbling in his throat. He looked at her over his shoulder. She was somehow even more beautiful than in the cadets, despite the trauma and pain they endured from fighting the right and wrong enemies. “Mikasa,” he said with burning eyes, “I didn’t save your life, I didn’t wrap that scarf around you, I didn’t let you live with me after your entire life changed in one day…but…”

He clenched his teeth after his rushed speech. “I could be and give you everything you wanted and everything you needed, but I’m not him! I could love you with every fiber of my being, but it wouldn’t erase the pain that he left you.” When the tears came, he brushed them away. “I just want you to be happy–like Armin does, like Connie does, like everyone else, I want you to be happy.” He took a shaky breath. “I just don’t want you to be unhappy and mourn over what had been, or a dream of what could have been. I told you to kill your best friend, your soulmate, and that will haunt me every day for the rest of my life.”

He turned away his face and rinsed off the cup and saucer to put on the drying rack, but before he could turn around, a hand touched his arm. Her expression didn’t change. “I thought we could be allies again, friends…” He bit his upper lip and watched the water go down the drain. “I should never have brought this up.”

Mikasa took a shaky breath and moved her hand up his arm to his shoulder, and Jean had no other choice but to meet her eyes. “Do you see yourself…giving yourself that chance?” she whispered. “If I let you…would you?”

The nausea was coming up his throat again, and Jean made himself swallow, though it was like gulping down scalding water. “If you let me?” he repeated. He shook his head. “Even if you gave me that chance… I would never make you forget him. I would never tell you to throw away that scarf. I would spend hours awake with you if you missed him so much that you couldn’t sleep at night. I would take you to his grave as often as you wanted to go. I would never make you do anything that you didn’t want to do, or become someone you were not. I would vow to you above myself, in good and bad.”

Jean’s heart was thumping so fast that he worried that he would have a heart attack. He put his wet hands on her waist without thinking and hitched his breath. “I never pursued women in Marley, and I didn’t know why, not even other Eldian women.”

Mikasa’s eyes were of uncertainty, and Jean felt even more guilty and ashamed of himself for making her feel like she had to give in to his dreams that he harbored for years, and that he could promise her a lifetime of happiness even if he wasn’t him. He dropped his hands from her waist, but then her hands–slender and warm–cupped the sides of his jaw and lowered his head so she could kiss the middle of his forehead.

***

Jean struggled to swallow the mouthful of soup, and not just because it was boiling hot–it was spicy, like the peppers that Marleyans warned made people cry. He inhaled and moved his blistering tongue around his mouth. “Good heavens, that was hurtful,” he panted.

Mikasa twisted her mouth. “I know,” she said, “but you know that the doctor said that this will clear out your system, kill the virus in you.”

Jean turned his head away and sneezed into his sleeve. “Ugh…felt like I sneezed out a chili pepper,” he groaned.

“You may as well have,” said Mikasa. “Your nose is bleeding.”

Jean, groaning louder, sat up and impatiently pulled the shirt over his head despite his aching muscles. “Sorry to keep adding to the laundry load,” he heaved as he fell back onto his pillow.

“Do not apologize,” said Mikasa. “I’ll let the soup cool down and take this outside, all right?”

“That sounds good,” Jean whispered.

At that moment, the door opened, and a pair of tiny footsteps walked into the room. “Marco?” said Mikasa. “What is it?”

The five-year-old’s face was on the verge of crying. “Mama…my throat hurts…” He threw back his head and sneezed into the crease of his elbow, trailing colored snot.

Mikasa immediately stood up and lifted her son onto her hip. “I’ll take you into the bathroom, and you can have a nice warm bath. It’s good for fighting the flu.”

Marco whined and rubbed his forehead against her collarbone.

Mikasa had just stepped out of the bedroom when she heard heaving and lurching in the bedroom across from hers. Without knocking, she opened the door and saw her little girl sitting on the floor with her face in the wastebin pulled between her pale, shaking legs. Poor thing was too weak to walk to the bathroom. “Sasha? Sweetheart?”

The three-year-old weakly lifted her head and started crying. “Mama… make it stop… It’s like sloppy joes…”

Mikasa swiftly helped Sasha onto her other hip and carried her children into the bathroom. She positioned Sasha’s head over the toilet, drew warm water, helped Marco out of his pajamas, and lowered him into the tub. The boy nearly yelped but then closed his eyes. “I don’t feel better yet,” he whined.

“You will,” his mother promised. “It will take time.” She glanced over the tub and saw that Sasha was on the floor, pressing her forehead against the tiles. “Sasha!”

Sasha protested when her mother tried lifting her. “No, Mama, my head… it feels nice…”

“If you keep laying like that, Sasha, you will only get sicker.” Mikasa removed Sasha’s nightgown and placed her in the tub beside her brother. At their mother’s instruction, the children held their breaths, pinched their noses, and dunked their heads under the surface. Once they came back up, Mikasa gathered their germy pajamas and told them to relax and not try to drown each other while she went outside. She would come back very soon, once she hung the new load to dry.

After five minutes, Mikasa finished hanging the soaking clothes and bedsheets, had unclipped the dry linens, and carried the basket back inside. She set everything onto the kitchen table to fold later and hurried back up to the bathroom. She opened the door and saw that the children were not in the tub.

Before panic struck, she instantly saw tiny droplets of water trailing into her and Jean’s bedroom. Mikasa followed the trail and peeked inside.

Marco cuddled to his father, his head on Jean’s ribcage, while Sasha was curled to Jean’s chest. Both children were wearing fresh sleepwear, and they still had towels wrapped around their heads. The three of them, aside from the occasional cough, were napping quite peacefully. Mikasa smiled to herself and left the room to give her sick family peace.

She went into Sasha’s room to strip off the soaked bedding, but the sheets were already pulled off and in a pile at the foot of the bed. On Sasha’s pillow was a sheet of paper with Jean’s recognizable handwriting: I got this for you. You go take a nap. You deserve it.

***

When Mikasa woke up from her nap, it was already dark. She didn’t hear coughing, so the children were probably still sleeping. She could probably take down the hanging laundry from outside and set up the beds for when the children woke up.

Mikasa went downstairs with a candle, but before she went outside, she peeked into the kitchen and saw that not only was the laundry that she brought in earlier folded and stacked on the table, but also folded were the children’s sheets and pajamas that they wore before their bath. Her mouth twitched in affection, and she went into the kitchen to pick up everything.

Inside, however, she saw Jean, wearing only slippers and a towel with droplets of water on his bare back and arms, at the stove, tending to the spicy soup that she fed him earlier. He turned his head when he heard her approach him and smiled. “Did you have a nice nap?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “You, um…”

Jean smirked and ladled the soup into a small bowl. “Do you want one?” he asked her. “I suspect that you forgot to eat before your nap.”

He was always like that, worrying that Mikasa starved herself. She shrugged and said why not. She accepted the steaming bowl and waited for him to sit across from her before she ate. It was both spicy and hot enough to fully awaken her.

After the usual questions that Jean was all right, that he enjoyed his bath, how well were the children sleeping, and if anyone vomited or had trouble holding down food, Mikasa beckoned to the basket and folded cloths. “Why did you fold them for me? I could have done it.”

Jean shook his head. “I know, but you deserve rest. You may the only one of us who will remain in perfect health while everyone around you gets sick…but you’re my wife, my dearest love.” He set down his spoon and put his hand over hers. “Remember–we’re in this together, caring for the biggest, most important projects of our lives.”

Mikasa cocked her head and smirked. “I know–”

“But,” he cut her off before she could continue, “that doesn’t mean that I’m going to leave you to everything.” With those words, his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand. “Remember what I said all those years ago? That I would put you above myself in good and bad times?”

Mikasa didn’t say anything, but she nodded. Jean continued: “I wasn’t saying that so you would give me a chance. I said those words because I meant them, just as much as I do now.” He pulled her hand to himself and kissed her knuckles. “I love you too much.”

Mikasa could not count how many times she heard him say those words, but they always gave her a light feeling in her chest that lifted her spirits. He knew that he could never erase away her old love, nor did he attempt to, but the joy he gave her because of the love he gave and the love that he had for their children made Mikasa glad that she gave him that chance. It was unlike how she imagined her future for years, but sometimes she appreciated how her life in reality was even better than her dream life.

#attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #jeankasa #armin arlert #annie leonhart #aruani #fanfiction #pieck finger #reiner braun #connie springer #jean kirschtein #jeanmika #jean x mikasa #mikasa x jean

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miyuti · 2 years ago

Text

“Tea..! Fresh tea!” the Tea Master calls out from his stand, a warm smile on his face as he serves the warm, magical tasting beverage from his ceramic teapot. The sound of the pouring liquid into the wooden, hand-carved cups made from a weeping willow coming over the little girl in front of the stall, waiting impatiently to get her taste of this magical tea. “Here you go, little one. Careful now.. it’s piping hot.” The Tea Master warns, but the girl does not heed his words, gripping onto the cup and hurrying off to her mother. The Tea Master laughs, looking down at his ceramic teapot, he ponders.. What would it be like to have a child of his own?

“Welcome to the world, little one..”

Awakening with a shock, you sit up with a teapot mysteriously placed on your lap, you can’t help but feel familiar with the feel of it. Looking around, you have been placed in the middle of an overgrown plot of land with a simple, yet mysterious wooden mailbox next to you. You stand up and realize.. this is the new life you’ve been given, and you must make the best of it.

Hello friends! Thank you for stopping by! Underneath the cut will be my very first Legacy challenge on this blog! It's a Tea Inspired Legacy! I hope you enjoy!

I apologize in advance, this post will be long, but I hope it'll be worth it for you! Or I will disappoint you as much as EA's new packs do-

Before we begin, I'd like to clarify some things and give some general notes that might be good to keep in mind for this challenge! As well as tag some creators that were a HUGE help with this challenge! Thank you so much to @magpietrait @nicatnite88 @vibratingbed @forbiddenwhims and @pluto-sims for the help with this challenge!! They were all a big help with giving me motivation, inspiration and feedback! Kisses for all of u gimme ur autograph pls ty ♡ Dividers by @/cafekitsune here on tumblr!

❥ 1. Please do not feel pressured to conform to every single rule I've set in this Legacy Challenge! If you feel it is stressing you out, CHANGE IT! Nobody will get mad at you, not me, not anybody. Focus on having fun instead of feeling like it's a chore.

❥ 2. Please tag me in your stories, edits and sim screenshots for this legacy!! I want to see what you guys do with this. Of course it's no requirement, but it'd make me a very happy little dude!

❥ 3. If you are having struggles with choosing a name for each Tea Generation, feel free to use the actual generation name instead! Though, there's a lot of tea out there, so I don't think that will be an issue.

❥ 4. Keep in mind that you're allowed to mix and match the traits and aspirations I've chosen for each generation! And if those traits don't work out for your story, feel free to pick your own!

❥ 5. Don't feel like you have to make your sim a specific style, if you have an idea for your Generation Heir/Founder, go nuts!! I encourage creativity on this blog! i love seeing ppls sim ocs fr pls go nuts im begging u

❥ 6. You may mix and match with the generation order! If you feel that something would be more fun to complete now, go right ahead! Or if you feel a specific Tea Name would better suit the sim you're working on right now, feel free to shuffle the names around!

❥ 7. You can play on whatever lifespan you want, no rule for that. Whatever you feel is the optimal for you! Normal, Custom or Long, doesnt matter!

Now for the General Rule Set! These will be your Foundation for your legacy challenge, and these are the ones I highly recommend you do not change, as they're what sets the groundwork for your stories! At least I'd like to think that--

❥ 1. The most important rule of them all, there must be a teapot somewhere in each Generation house. See it as an heirloom from the Tea Master! Why it's in the spot it is, what attachment your sim has to it and why they decide to keep it is completely up to you! It can be any sort of teapot, CC, Functional or purely a Decoration, doesn't matter as long as it looks like a teapot!

❥ 2. You start out with 1800 Simoleons and choose a bigger plot of land. You may not move from this plot of land until the last generation is finished.

❥ 3. For every world outside of the one your sims live in you must pay a Bus Ticket Fee of 50 Simoleons. If you own the High School Years pack, going to school or prom will not require you to pay the fee, as school buses exist. You also do not need to pay when traveling to different neighbourhoods in the same world as your home, as you can walk to the block down the street but cant walk from Los Angeles to New York City.

❥ 4. You must start off the Legacy as a Teenager! You are not allowed to have part-time jobs during your time as a teenager, you need to live off of the land.

❥ 5. You may add as many gameplay mods as you want, however you may not use cheats to increase skill gain, funds or needs, you may not use cheats to boost your career, delete moodlets or add moodlets to your sims. Only some exceptions that will be stated in the rules when they come up.

❥ 6. You have to name your sims after the tea type stated in their generation! So for example, Generation 1 could be named Earl Gray as a first name and Tea as a last name! (The last name is required.)

❥ 7. Your lot must have the 'Simple Living' Lot Challenge. For an extra challenge you may add the 'Off-the-Grid' Lot Challenge too.

♡ Generation One - Black Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choices:

Successful Lineage or

Big Happy Family

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Gloomy

Self-Assured

Ambitious

Family-Oriented

Jealous

❥ Career Choices:

Unemployed! (Srry abt that)

❥ Life Goals:

If you are getting a spouse, marry them after becoming Good Friends.

Have at least two children.

Plan Birthday Events for every single sim in your household (outside of pets and farm animals)

Have two or more of your Children fall in the range of a Positive Extra Trait. (Such as Mediator, Good Manners, etc.)

Max the Parenting skill.

Complete your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Two - Green Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

Angling Ace or

The Curator

❥ Trait Choices (Choose Only 3!):

Green Fiend

Recycle Disciple

Lazy

Loves Outdoors

Genius

❥ Career Choices:

Culinary or

Conservationist

❥ Life Goals:

Complete the Fish Collection and/or

Complete the Mineral Collection

Max your Career!

(If you want one) Find your Spouse in Granite Falls or Henford-on-Bagley

Make your Neighbourhood Eco Footprint Green!

Complete your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Three - White Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

Master Chef or

Master Mixologist

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Foodie

Slob

Clumsy

Neat

Lactose Intolerant

❥ Career Choices:

Culinary (any branch)

❥ Life Goals:

Max Cooking Skill and/or

Max Mixologist Skill

Max Gourmet Cooking Skill

Purchase the 'Forever Full' Reward Trait

(Optional) Start your own Restaurant!

Complete your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Four - Pu Ehr Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

Extreme Sports Enthusiast or

Archaeology Scholar

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Active

Adventurous

Loves Outdoors

Squeamish

Self-Absorbed

❥ Career Choices:

Military or

Athlete

❥ Life Goals:

Propose at the top of Mt. Komorebi and/or

Explore the Jungle at least 3 times in your lifetime

Have a child complete an Active aspiration

Max out Archaeology Skill and/or

Max out Rock Climbing Skill

Buy the Reward Trait 'Brave'

Complete your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Five - Yellow Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

Academic or

Computer Whiz

❥ Optional Challenges:

Complete the teenage aspiration Live Fast or Goal-Oriented

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Overachiever

Socially Awkward

Mean

Creative

Outgoing

Party Animal

❥ Career Choices:

Free Space! You may choose this one.

❥ Life Goals:

Graduate from University with an A or higher as your final GPA

Meet your soulmate at University!

Raise a child with the traits Top-Notch Infant & Top Notch Toddler as well as have that child complete a childhood aspiration.

Purchase the 'Mentor' Reward Trait

Complete the Fossil collection

Complete the Elements collection

Complete your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Six - Oolong Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

World-Famous Celebrity or

Master Actor/Actress

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Kleptomaniac

Self-Absorbed

High Maintenance

Music Lover

Good

Outgoing

❥ Career Choices:

Actor/Actress

❥ Life Goals:

Become a Proper Celebrity before the Adult Life Stage

Have either a Great or Awful Reputation before the Adult Life Stage

Become Enemies with 2 or more sims

Max out your Career

Win 3 Awards

Max out your Singing Skill

Max out your Dancing Skill

Complete your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Seven - Herbal Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

Freelance Botanist or

Outdoor Enthusiast

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Loves Outdoors

Freegan

Squeamish

Loyal

Maker

Genius

❥ Career Choices:

Gardener or

Civil Designer

❥ Life Goals:

Max out the Gardening Skill

Max out the Herbalism Skill

Purchase the 'Super Green Thumb' Reward Trait

Make one of each Herbal Remedy

Complete the Insect Collection

Max out your Career

Complete your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Eight - Floral Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

The Curator or

Country Caretaker

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Foodie

Art Lover

Animal Enthusiast

Hot Headed

Adventurous

Clumsy

❥ Career Choices:

Gardener (the career path you didnt choose this time) or

Unemployed

❥ Life Goals:

Max out the Flower Arranging Skill

Save a sim from the Grim Reaper with a Death Flower

Purchase the 'Forever Fresh' Reward Trait

Be Good Friends with at least 5 of your Farm Animals

Max out Knitting skill

Knit 10 articles of clothing for your sims and/or animals

Max out your Aspiration!

♡ Generation Nine - Rooibos Tea ♡

❥ Aspiration Choice:

Nerd Brain or

Master Maker

❥ Trait Choices (Choose only 3!):

Maker

Green Fiend

Materialistic

Geek

Romantic

Unflirty

❥ Career Choice:

Engineer

❥ Life Goals:

Max out Robotics Skill

Max out Fabrication Skill

Build a Servo Bot

Finish the Metals Collection

Max out our Career

Complete your aspiration!

Thank you so much for taking the time with reading this post! I hope you enjoy the challenge, even if its just for the storytelling part! This is my first time making any challenge so I'm sorry if the challenges are underwhelming, but I hope that it won't be too easy! I'm not sure if this is actually doable because I am garbage at actually doing legacy challenges- Have a great day friends~

#ts4 challenge #the sims 4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #long post #Tea Legacy Challenge #ugh this was so stressful but so fun at the same time #Tea Legacy Challenge Info Post

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