TO: JEANBO
[text] i was doing u a favor! [text] so ungrateful [text] since u encouraged me to break my leg???? [text] bring me food ):
SMS:: Boy Wonder;
✉ :: ye, don’t do that ✉ :: and stop holding that against me bro i just had faith in u is all ✉ :: ur not getting pizza. you can have nachos.
to the people with the same muse as me:
- let me congratulate you for your fantastic taste on characters
also,
- come and discuss headcanons with me
- plot twin verses with me
- come gush about their history and questionable life choices and asshole attitudes and the little quirks that made you fall in love with them with me
- I’M NOT HERE TO COMPETE WITH YOU, I’M HERE TO DEVELOP ARCHS AND HAVE FUN WITH THIS CHARACTER THAT WE BOTH LOVE
- come at me dudeski.
TO: JEANBO
[text] dont u like her lol [text] im helping u out bro [text] also bring pizza im starving and hospital food sucks
SMS:: Boy Wonder;
✉ :: thats just weird ✉ :: ur weird dude ✉ :: and since when am i buying u food???
TO: JEANBO
[text] i still blame u [text] ugh no mikasa wont stop hovering [text] come here and use ur horsey charms to distract her or smth
---Rude.
SMS:: Boy Wonder;
✉ :: well i WAS gonna say id meet you but yknow what i say now ✉ :: neigh asshole ✉ :: suffer with your oh so terrible sister
TO: JEANBO
[text] no u listen [text] my fucking leg is broken
SMS:: Boy Wonder;
✉ :: lol ok ✉ :: thats not my fault but ok ✉ :: are u on ur own?
“She did?” Armin peers up at him over his shoulder, trusting in Jean to guide him outside and not straight into a wall. Fishing is something he’s never tried before, and the thought of being involved– even if he only gets to watch– makes his eyes light up. For now, all is forgiven. “You seem pretty confident. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a fisherman.”
He is, and he isn’t. Jean steers Armin out the door and only joins by his side with his hands to himself once he’s satisfied the other isn’t dawdling anymore, saying, “I’ve never fished a day in my life! But how hard can it be, ah?” Jean’s admittedly getting a bit of a kick out of the idea, because it’s sort of like hunting but more water and less running around. That, and if he does well, they get a good meal tonight.
Space, such a funny thing to Mikasa. She could never decide, you see. While she craved to have someone by her side, someone there to hold and support her, each time someone got close enough she bared her teeth, daring them to take a step closer. For what? There were many reasons, the most prominentand most deniedbeing for others protection. That fucking reaper in her shadow demanding bodies that Mikasa refused to feed. It would consume everyone she cared about.
Platonic affection was held towards many, and though two had slipped through the cracks, the wall Mikasa had built between her and others was held up damn well… until recently. These events, this knowledge, had fractures running up and down the barrier within her mind, and Jean was beginning to find his way in. Jean, the single person in which that platonic affection had grown into something profoundly different and terrifying to the young woman. This was beyond the infatuation of a crush, but not quite so intense as love, it was somewhere in the limbo between these realms. And Mikasa did not want to find out where it would lead. She worked harder to keep space, to not feel, to pull away, to protect. Yet here he was, pushing and pushing, at her side draping a jacket over her to protect her from herself, craving access to her broken and terribly put back together heart and soul.
The wall was breaking.
“… Yeah… Tell me about it…” There it was, her voice betrayed her, the sorrow of the situation at hand twisted through her tone. No hiding any longer, no mask to escape behind. Emotions built up in her tear ducts, a breath to steady herself was taken, but calm as well deserted her, sounding more like a broken sob than anything else. It was much too late to tell him it was nothing, lies were of no help.
“Haha, fuck…” A defeated laugh turned sob left her, Mikasa looking in his direction, though his form was blurred, barely visible in her teary vision. “I-I am… sorry… I AM SORRY, J-Jean…” That was all she could get out before her sobbing made speaking impossible. She hid her face in her scarf, legs up to her chest as her arms wrapped around them, curling in on herself.
I’m broken.
Shit, is right about the first thing that pops into Jean’s head as the sight ahead of him begins. And one could see it on his face, with his lips parted and his eyes wide, he hadn’t anticipated for this. Mind you, Jean wouldn’t know what to do even if he had hours to prepare; Mikasa doesn’t cry often and least of all not for no good reason, and especially not in front of him. Jean can hazard a guess for a few reasons why.
“Mikasa...” he mutters, unsure, as he reaches out toward her only to hesitate and his fingers roll back into his palm a moment. Because he doesn’t know what to do, his gut’s telling him to go to her but his mind’s saying stay back, it’s not his place. She doesn’t want you.
A series of blinks, then the boy brings himself down to rest on his haunches, close enough to touch if he dared but he doesn’t. He suggests, “I’ll go find Eren or- or Armin, yeah? How’s that sound?” Not that he can’t do anything they can, he would argue, if the situation wasn’t so serious. But they’re the two he knows her to be closest with, he might clash with Eren and think he’s an idiot at times, and only to himself these days does he admit he’s still a bit jealous of the guy, but if it’s not him she’s most comfortable with, then Armin. Armin’s alright, Jean can’t hold much against him.
Her walls have been built so high, he’s long accepted the fact he’ll never be able to get passed them. Even now, as she cries, he can still feel the barrier between them and it’s as though he’s convinced he’ll get burned if he touches in that space between them.
“...’Kasa?”
she remembers perfectly, how skilled finger tips would dance over the strings of his guitar. often times she’d find herself lost from her own work when he would practice. she told him it didn’t bother her, that it was never distracting, but that was a lie. it was, but in the best way possible. those sweet memories creep up slowly and they cause an ache as if there was a cavity in the back her mouth. she missed those days, but such words would never fall off her tongue.
‘ i’m sure you’re just as good. ‘ there’s a kindness to her voice, one that tends to slip passed her usual cold exterior. it’s similar to how she once spoke him during those cold mornings tangled in his bed sheets against him.
frame shifts in the seat as her gaze drifts to the waitress, she orders something small, quick. she wanted this to end as quickly as possible, she didn’t want to relive the past that they could never have again.
‘ you could stop by sometime if you want, tuesday’s there’s a small group of kids that come in and i’m sure they’d like to hear you play. ‘ there’s a slight rise at the corner’s of her lips, ‘ that’s if you know any kid friendly songs. ‘ it’s a joke — just slightly.
‘ i am. ‘ it’s not a complete lie, but it wasn’t where she wanted to be. it was some place temporary on the way to achieving her dreams. it shouldn’t be but a few more weeks until things have sorted out and she’s finally out of this small town of their’s. she was ready to start anew.
finger tips push away at the stray inky tresses that fall from behind her ear. it’d been awhile since they’ve face the sharp wrath of scissors. ‘ so, how’s your mom? ‘
His stomach turns a little when she makes an order, and it’s not without concentration that he blinks the hopelessness out of his eyes and smiles back at her, almost missing the joke. Jean can’t bring himself to laugh though, at least not without her knowing it’s as awkward as the air around him feels to breathe in.
“I’ll have a think on it,” he nods, turning the glass between his fingers. Only raising his stare once she speaks again, asking after his mother, and Jean feels himself growing restless in his seat. Nothing to do with his mom though, she’s fine, been a diamond actually, it’s just that she asks about this and their talk is mundane. Flat.
There’s an elephant in the room and he’s tried to ignore it, was doing well he thought, but he doesn’t want to talk about his mom. He wants to talk about them and she’s just cut the time he thought he’d have to do it.
“She’s fine,” he says, then necks back what’s left in his glass while he waits for the other one to arrive. The glass is placed down again with care, and Jean centres it so her face is shown in its pattern as his free hand comes to mess with the back of his head, hair brushed through and down as he sighs about all of this crap.
“Are we really doing this?” He asks, finally. Even though it was his idea they meet, he’d thought it would be easier in ways, to talk to her at least. There was once a time he couldn’t shut up, and she would laugh at or with him, and they were happy, but this is just horrible. “I know we can’t go back to how things were, I know that, Mikasa, but...” The glass is turned, her picture distorted within. “...This isn’t us. We got passed this. We could talk to each other once and it wasn’t so... bad.”
Armin still had no idea why he was here. Jean’s first comment never gave him any clue on what it was and it made him even more curious to know what he was so irritated about, if he were telling the truth. Showing that, he dropped his pen on the table and turned his whole body to him, wondering just what the other was doing.
And then he heard a high pitched noise. He raised an eyebrow, looking for the source until he looked into Jean’s hands, which made him blush a little and smile. Jean saved the little guy? That was adorable! He wondered where it came from, but the question wasn’t important for now. What was important was staring at the two.
“Ahh, that little thing is so cute! I won’t tell anyone Jean, I promise. I’m glad that you didn’t just leave it. But be careful. It might grow up thinking you’re its mother!”
It’s a better reaction that he was expecting, for some reason he’d gotten the impression that Armin wouldn’t be all that supportive, not because he’s heartless or anything like that, but because it’s not exactly appropriate to bring animals into the Corps. Jean was waiting to hear about how much trouble he’s gonna be in when Levi or Hange, or even Erwin, finds out. Nothing like that out of him though.
The taller relaxes a little, except he keeps the frown going still a little embarrassed, but it’s visible in his shoulders that he’s not to tense anymore. “I’m not it’s mother,” he retorts, not entirely sure who he’s trying to convince more, Armin or the duckling in his hands. The duckling just cheeps, and Armin’s still grinning.
“I don’t know what to do with it,” he admits. “I thought Sasha might have some bright ideas, but she just went off and then Connie was there, and it got really loud, I bailed out before it brought anymore unwanted attention...”
And Jean admits he doesn’t know what to do because there’s a brighter mind right in front of him that he hopes might be more useful, so his frown lightens a little, and he peers back at Armin from under his brow.
“...I could really do with some help.”
The Capitol is just what she expected and at the same time, all too overwhelming. It’s different hearing it from the lips of those that have traveled and seeing it with her own eyes. Already she can hear the excitement from those who have made the journey with her, they flirt and banter about dripping with sex appeal they know is too much to resist.
Those from Dorne never shy away from their passionate hearts, they embrace them. Spices and citrus are to be delivered in an endless supply, the country is after all coveted for these luxurious that throw their weight in gold. It’s a good first impression, but then, striking eyes watch her small sibling with the utmost protection. Instinct says to go over and shield him away, but it’s been repeated to the point she finds it maddening such a thing is not permitted.
He must be introduced to his own bride to be while she entertains the rest of the house with her charm and playful tongue. Most of all, she has been warned to play kindness with one particular woman. For a second, her fist clenches then releases, this is the most difficult task Alex has been forced to deal with. Her attention turns to her soon to be family, beaming with a false sense of happiness as she radiates her warmth. “Oh no, please, it’s my pleasure. I am just so very thrilled to meet all of you in person, letters are so informal” they’re beauty is just as she was told about, it’s evident and plain as day. A glance is given from behind her shoulder as she watches her cousins coo and purr, they’re already making nice.
To the naked eye it appears of nothing but flirting, but she knows it is a tactic to win them over something that was urged by their family that they must use at all cost. The sounds of laughter and their generous offerings being given was enough to calm her nerves for now. They wouldn’t be so careless as to do anything drastic, for now, she could hear the encouragements of the young heir to introduce himself and it caused her to breath a sigh of relief. This should’ve been their father’s duties, but, he was gone many saying having went mad of heartbreak. Alex wasn’t sure of such a thing, but it made for poetic stories within the country that everyone seemed to lust after.
A moment of hesitance showed, but, she soon took his hand into her own. “It’s so lovely to meet you, I am Alex. I would nothing more than to enjoy your company! You know…” her voice trailed off for just a second as she tossed a cheeky remark. “I was always told those in the Capitol are so beautiful and you know, there is truth to that. Such a handsome man, I feel like the most luckiest woman alive” her grip upon his hand became firmer, a smile so broad it showcased her teeth.
He laughs, something throaty and false but the smile is not, because Jean knows he’s a looker and he’s just proud enough to show it, even if this is some act on her behalf. As it has been pounded into his mind not to mistake her advances, he’s been told to keep his back up because she’s not as sweet as she may appear, but Jean doesn’t exactly find her ‘sweet’ in that moment either. More, quite the opposite actually.
“Alex,” he chimes in, taking her arm neath his own. “I have to say I’m flattered, such a compliment from a lady as radiant as yourself, well...” Jean shakes his head as he leads her deeper into the heart of King’s Landing, smiling all the while, “If she thinks she’s lucky, then what else must I be if not something more so?”
And though he’s putting on his charm, she is undeniably beautiful and the Lannister’s falsities only stem in the manner in which he speaks. For Jean isn’t half as amiable as he’s having himself appear, if he’d been given the freedom to be usual brusque self he certainly wouldn’t possess as much silver on his tongue. But it’s Cersei pulling the strings here and he’s just one of her puppets.
“My,” he goes on, giving her hand a small sympathetic squeeze. “I didn’t think, how rude I just took you off immediately without a single thought; aren’t you tired from your journey?”
But it’s mere courtesy that he asks because Jean’s lying when he says he hadn’t thought about it, though, he wasn’t inclined to deny an order. The girl is smart, they’ve heard, and the less she knows while she’s here, the better. There’s only so many places he may take her and others are strictly off-bounds, too much at stake that they risk her stumbling across something she shouldn’t. As long as Alex is with a Lannister no one need worry of her whereabouts, is the idea.
x // @kerothi
Focused on the flames, licking high into the cool air surrounding them, embers constantly shifted and more kindling added to continue the warmth. Mikasa sat back, farther than the others, away from the group of laughs, simply enjoying her view of the fire but the chill of the air as well. She did not belong in that social group, all laughs and fun, alone is where Mikasa felt at home. Though, she would not mind if another joined her. In fact, part of her almost wished for it. For now though, she allowed herself to enjoy the dance of the flames by her lonesome.
“Beautiful…” She murmurs aloud, unaware of the other soul come to join her.
“The fire..?” Jean asks, assuming she’s talking to him.
It’s not as though he’d snuck up on her on purpose or anything like that, just a bit of a habit of his now to hang back a little and keep an eye on the rest of them, just likes to know where everyone is these days. And because it’s Mikasa, he would’ve figured she just knew he was there. But anyway, about the flames. The boy’s shoulders rise, a faint shake of his head as he looks back at the fire, thoughtfully.
“Not the word I’d use...”
smooches him. maybe they've made up idk, she misses him don't judge
It’s unexpected nonetheless, Mikasa not being one to show her affections all that often, the last thing Jean was prepared for was a kiss from her. So it’s as her lips leave his again that the boy’s part slightly and he blinks a couple more times than necessary, dumbfounded. Because he’ll never get over that, no matter how many times they’ve kissed in the past.
“A--ha, missed me did ya?” He plasters on a grin, meant to look cocky but he’s gone all doe-eyed looking at her and he looks anything but.
When the youth finally accepted the cup of tea, Erwin brought the pot’s spout to a second cup and filled it up generously. He brought Jean’s cup to him, “Of course.” he nodded with a kind smile when the other thanked him. He made his way around the desk and sat down in his own chair, discretely admiring the scent of the tea before taking a small sip. It was hot, but Erwin liked it that way.
Erwin set his cup on his desk, carefully pushing aside some papers, and glanced over to Jean. The Commander recalled what was in the boy’s profile; his birthday was near and was about to turn sixteen. His parents were still alive, and he had avoided any trauma from Shiganshina several years earlier. Puzzlingly, Keith’s early notes describe Jean as eager to join the highest ranks of the Military Police. He had graduated in the top ten of his class, the 104th. Yet, here he was. In his office, with the wings of freedom stitched to his uniform. Trost might have changed the youth’s mind.
“Hm?” Erwin perked his eyebrows before shaking his head and smiling, “Oh, no, there isn’t an issue.” His thumb curved around the handle of his teacup for a moment before raising it and taking another easy sip.
“I’ve been making a point to see the one-o-fourth recruits privately. You are the only graduating class in our history that has encountered titans directly in battle. Trost was an anomaly…” Erwin paused, a graver expression momentarily crossing his features. Erwin had been used to his recruits being naïve to the horrors of titan confrontation. Their journey outside the walls was often their first – and sometimes last – interactions. Jean and his comrades were different. The battle of Trost had unfortunately, and prematurely, thrusted them into action. Many had been killed. Many watched their friends die. Erwin had to trod carefully.
Erwin lightened, his demeanor easing once more, “Naturally, I want to check in and see how everyone is holding up. If you’d prefer not to, I’ll understand.”
Jean visibly relaxes though he doesn’t stay that way for long, as soon as Trost is mentioned his eyes fall from the Commander’s face and down to his tea, still clutched close to his chest as the steams rises up. It’s an oddly calming smell, and the boy assumes that’s why he’s managed to keep his hands from shaking for the first time since thinking about it and the aftermath.
He regains his manner as the man speaks again, returning his focus to Erwin’s and while he tries his best not to show as much, Jean still feels small under that piercing stare. His Commander asks how he’s doing and despite saying he’ll understand if he wishes to keep his thoughts to himself, the boy is sure it’d be better not to. Perhaps for his mentality, yes, but also because he’d like not to offend his superior in any way.
But as his lips part to speak, he finds he doesn’t actually know what to say. And Jean hesitates for a moment longer, searching for the words and all the while he looks Erwin dead in the eyes, nothing rolls off his tongue. Because he is grief-ridden and haunted, but he knows everyone else that made it out of there alive is either just the same, if not worse off than he is. If his Commander intends to check up on everyone then Jean imagines he’ll be hearing an awful lot of that.
He ducks his gaze back down, only sipping his drink after he says, “Thank you, sir. I, uh, suppose I’m doing as well as I can, sir.” And though it’s not in his nature to be evasive, Jean doesn’t want to bother this man with his grievances; Erwin was his Commander not a friend whose shoulder he could cry on. Surely he has enough going on without one of the newer recruits taking up his time.
“Come on where?” Despite the question, he follows Jean’s example and rises to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head. He’s still a bit sleepy if he’s to be honest with himself. “I thought it was just my company you were after.”
“Yeah, I do? Just obviously not here, Armin. Use that noggin’ of yours.” He grins, throwing the blond another pat on the shoulder before turning him completely around and nudging him along to the door. “Sasha made us a fishing line,” Jean explains, still quite chirpy because he’s kinda looking forward to this. “I’m catching dinner but it’s gonna be boring as all hell if I’m sat on my own, isn’t it?”
No-one’ll notice he’s late if he just casually slips in the back, right? Right.