#‘you heard of attack on titan?’
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willyoucometowakemeup · 4 months ago
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I believe the most important thing when talking irl about the things you love and find interesting is to say it with your whole chest, no matter how embarrassing you think it is.
You’re talking about your interests! You chose to share! Say it with your chest, it’s who you are!
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moonspirit · 2 months ago
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Armin is always very assertive and bold with Annie, whether it's about touching her or just telling how much he loves her with the intention to fluster her from head to toe and etc but then 3 seconds later he's blushing adorably, all mild panic and bashful expression and big silly grin of happiness and oh god what is Annie supposed to do with this huh? Just What?
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the-genius-az · 4 months ago
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Azula with Tuberculosis Au.
After Agni Kai, Azula locked herself in her room, not wanting to come out, and the only people who entered her room were Zuko and Katara.
She didn't know why, couldn't they just leave her alone? She lost everything, she has nothing to offer or give.
Azula was trying to sleep, after vomiting blood again, Katara said to call her when that happened, but she didn't have the strength to do it, besides, how could she? She couldn't even walk two steps without falling because she was so weak.
She stopped her thoughts when she heard footsteps stopping behind her door and sighed irritably, because she knew who it was.
Slowly Zuko opened the door, peeked his head in, and noticed that Azula was collapsed on her bed, something that was normal nowadays.
"I brought you your food," he murmured, as he entered Azula's room.
Azula didn't know exactly why her brother became nice to her, did he feel sorry for her? She doesn't believe it, Zuko is an idiot, even more so with Azula- the sick.
Zuko waited for Azula to sit on the bed so he could eat, but she didn't. He looked at her as he waited, but she still didn't move, he let out a sigh and put the food on the nightstand.
"Katara says... Katara says you could die," Zuko waited for a response, but it never came.
Minutes passed, until she turned around and looked at her brother.
"Do you think they would miss me if I died?" she asked, staring at him.
Zuko knew who she was talking about, he knew of the strange and complex relationship his sister had with her former friends.
"I...I really don't know, Azula," he let out a sigh and looked away from her. "They're mad at you...and me too."
Azula looked down and slowly sat up on her bed.
"With you?" she asked, in a soft whisper that he couldn't have heard if there were no sound in the room.
"They're furious that I betrayed them, and the Nation... also because I'm the fire lord and not you," he murmured, completely uncomfortable with telling her that.
"Mad at you...even Mai is?" she asked, wanting to know if Mai was still with Zuko.
Zuko clenched his fists unconsciously, but he answered her.
"Yes, she doesn't want to be with me again until you recover," they both knew that won't happen now because of Karara's new diagnosis.
She couldn't help but smile slightly and lowered her head, until Zuko interrupted her thoughts.
"Leave them some letters before you die," he offered, though they both knew that wasn't what he really meant.
"For what? What do you want me to tell them?" She scoffed, wishing he would say it directly.
Zuko let out a very upset sigh, he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of his dying sister, but she could never give him what he wanted.
"I want you to write to Mai so she can date me when you die," he ordered involuntarily, then regretted his words.
"Mai deserves someone to spend her life with," he tried as he looked at the ground, embarrassed by his own words but not wanting to stop.
Azula grabbed the sheets with her hands.
She didn't want to be selfish, but when both siblings were in the same room they both always let out their worst sides.
"I don't want that... I don't want Mai to be with you or anyone else! I don't want Ty Lee with anyone else either!" she yelled angrily at him, as tears fell down her cheeks.
"I want to be with them forever! Even after my death, I want them to love me for at least ten more years!" she cried intensely, finally breaking down.
Zuko looked at her perplexed, and slowly began to cry as well.
Everything was so intense for both of them, Azula was going to die and Zuko was going to lose someone else.
But there was something on both of their minds, and it was that they had never looked alike in their entire lives until now.
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afolksongs · 1 year ago
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mobolanz · 1 year ago
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BUT MY SWEET NOONIECOOKIEFLUFFYPOOKIEYIPPIEBBYMUNCHKINSWEETCAKELOVEYDOVEYHUNKYTEDDYBEARRRRR ;____; ;A;
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13eyond13 · 11 months ago
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#so far in my sporadic picking away at various manga series i feel i have the weirdest reader relationships with JJBA and Attack on Titan#when reading JJBA i am not really that invested in the characters or even whats happening to them and yet i still never decide to dnf it#and i dont even know what it is that keeps me reading except that its just very unique i suppose?#such an odd combo of different things that somehow manages to eventually have its own sorta cohesive logic and charm#also the art is just fun. its ornate and goofy and macho and flamboyant and gross#but as soon as i put it down i stop thinking about it too#and dont feel like picking it up again for at least several more days#with attack on titan i found the art style mostly really bad at first ngl#it reminded me of awkward drawings a high schooler would make like the inconsistentness#of like there are good action poses here but the people also look weird ugly bland and stiff and the backgrounds are often so empty#idk i was feeling pretty blah about it but something about how starkly straight-forward the story is was interesting to me#where its literally exactly what you heard its just#theres a bunch of humanoid giants attacking our city#and we have to stop them. that's it#and also the awkwardness of the art style i find works extremely well when it comes to the titans#like they are genuinely creepy to me. and they do actually feel massive the way theyre drawn. and the mystery around them interests me too#anyways im like 60% through part 1 of jojo(also read most of part 4 a few years ago) and only on vol 3 of AoT#but yeah those are the 2 series i have the most mixed feelings about so far#wouldnt say i love or hate either of them but still also continue to want to find out more#13readsmanga#p
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burnt-venus · 1 year ago
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JUST A FEW HOURS UNTIL THE FINAL TRAILER OF AOT
LIKE THE FINAL
EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRY
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crisperia · 2 months ago
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JAHASGSGSHAGAG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMG 🧡🖤😭����🤣
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Alcohol…!
(rkgk, just for fun><)
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nyancrimew · 8 months ago
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Sorry, it was unfair of me to send that to you without proper context since you might not be aware of these issues. Irredeemable media refers to any thing with a creator or content  that is harmful and/or bigoted. Of course every piece of media has problems, but irredeemable media is when those problems cannot be ignored and are an indicator of someone's beliefs. 
For example, Harry Potter is irredeemable media because every one knows that JK Rowling is a transphobe, but some other piece of media like Twilight would not be considered irredeemable because even though Stephanie Meyer has done some bad things, they are not as widely talked about, so someone who posts about Twilight on here isn't completely likely to be a bigot, but a Harry Potter blogger would. Also, I know the "to be cringe is to be free" people like your blog, but a lot of the time, what is considered cringey on here is actually based on what is irredeemable. No progressive person or reputable blogger genuinely makes fun of My Little Pony fans any more, however plenty make fun of Hazbin Hotel fans and the such because that content is irredeemable and shows someone's beliefs. So usually, a piece of media being considered embarassing to like on here usually indicates that it is irredeemable.
As for why the other pieces of media are irredeemable, Hazbin Hotel is made by a woman who has many well-documented accusations of bigotry against her and has drawn zoophilia art, not to mention how her work leans into stereotypes about gay people (having a gay man character be a sex addict, a lesbian be named after the female body part Vagina, etc.) or at least that's what I've heard. Attack on Titan is created by a known fascist and many illusions are made to nazi imagery and nationalism in the anime. Captive Prince has a racist premise that sexualizes slavery and non-con. 
People can tell you that liking irredeemable media doesn't say something about who they are, but that's fundamentally false. If someone is uncaring enough to still post openly about these types of media, it's clear they don't care enough about not supporting bigotry. Yes, even if they don't give money to the creators, because they are still willingly exposing themselves to bigoted or harmful content and enjoying it.
The previous ask was not meant to be accusatory. Rather it was meant as a concerned question. Believe it or not, there are still some users on here who indulge in these pieces of content, a few of which hide behind the excuse of being part of a minority (Black, trans, whatever) or simply deny how bad their media consumption is to escape accountability. I wouldn't want you associating with those types of people and have that ruin your reliability on this website.
Hopefully this ask has educated you more on these issues and you'll be able to spot irredeemable media in the future and block it out.
incredible essay, you get a C for Creativity
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amywritesthings · 3 months ago
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dating on airplane mode. | part one.
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( Read on AO3 )
Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, dual pov, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics submitted for @levievent 's #levimonth24 / day 22: neighbors
part two. | masterlist
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“I'm seeing someone.”
Tea goes flying — metaphorically and physically.
When he confessed a new (and very unexpected) development in his (borderline nonexistent) dating life, Levi hadn’t anticipated Hange Zoe turning directly towards Erwin Smith to unleash a devastating spit-take attack to the face.
It’s a direct hit.
Erwin heroically takes the brunt of the damage, so at least his furniture is spared.
(Levi didn’t need to spend the rest of the afternoon scrubbing down the already scrubbed-down living room.)
Hange’s shout is shrill, the realization hitting them like a full-throttle freight train.
“You’re what?”
“He said he’s seeing someone,” Erwin answers in monotone before Levi can even try. 
The tall blonde extends a hand to leisurely grab the napkin cradling the bottom of his tea saucer. In true Erwin fashion, he doesn’t even blink at Hange’s dramatics — or their consequences unto him.
He raises the napkin to blot the side of his face sprinkled with a mixture of freshly-brewed lavender tea and Hange’s saliva.
(Then again, Hange could abruptly bang pots and pans in the middle of the night and Erwin would merely call it a minor inconvenience to his sleep routine.)
“No, no, I heard what he said,” Hange recovers with a crack to their voice, “but I can’t tell if he’s messing with us.”
“I’m not,” Levi flatly states.
“Okay, but how do we know?”
“Hange—”
Except it’s Erwin intercepting once more. “Because he would never pretend to have a significant other when one of his closest friends happens to be you.”
Hange squints, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose.
“Why? ‘Cause I joked that I’d stalk him the next time he finally found a date? That was one time, Erwin.”
Erwin rolls his neck to the right, offering Hange a pair of thick, disbelieving eyebrows.
“Technically speaking, Zoe, you threatened to stalk either of us if you caught even a sniff that we could be in the midst of a romantic pursuit. Plus, we’re well aware of the disguise kit collecting dust in the trunk of Moblit’s car.”
An instant shit-eating grin passes across their lips.
“Ha. Fair.”
If Levi’s eyeballs could roll any further into the back of his skull, they’d get stuck.
“However,” Erwin adds, those bold blue eyes flickering back towards Levi, “it doesn’t explain why we were in the dark until now. At the very least, we should hope you would feel safe enough to confide in us about someone you are serious about dating.”
Yeah. 
Out of his two friends sitting across from him, Levi figured Erwin would be the most suspicious of the surprise announcement.
Now that it’s been a few days since That Fateful Night, he doesn’t feel as self-conscious to confess his new reality.
It was as good of a time as any to rip the proverbial band-aid off.
(Besides, it was only a matter of mistakes before his friends learned the truth for themselves.)
Hange, Erwin, Moblit — they’re his only remaining connections tying him to this city. The others from his gym days have all found offers in other towns, returned to their old homes—
Moved on.
Meeting Erwin Smith in boot camp changed the trajectory of his life, for better or worse. 
Levi had known the man longer than he knew anyone else — but only by a few days and some change, considering he was destined (Hange’s words, not his) to meet the hyper scientist and their subdued partner, Moblit, in the army as well.
Then, as if attached to the hip, all four of them agreed to work at Erwin’s gym.
When that fell through, Erwin found the Scout Services Hotline.
.
.
— —
.
.
    The announcement came to him one summer evening with a printed job description and a six pack of beer.
Levi assumed Erwin’s confession on taking a sex hotline job had been one weird, shitty joke.
Picturing stoic, pragmatic Erwin Smith telling people how to fuck themselves in their bedrooms late at night for the almighty dollar felt obscene. 
Hell, it was obscene.
Levi didn’t want to consider his oldest friend in such a compromising position, but there it was laid before him without shame or fear of judgment.
Becoming a part-time sex worker for Erwin was as noncommittal as taking up a fleeting niche interest — like exotic bird watching or crocheting sweaters for fucking cats.
“At the gym, we improved upon people’s lives,” Erwin had told him while sipping his beer, staring out to the city sightline from Levi’s balcony. “Who has the authority to say this job isn’t doing something similar to those who may be lonely?”
“You would make yapping on a damn sex hotline prophetic,” Levi scoffed in return. “Selling some shitty porn script a dozen times a night sounds like the closest you could get to Hell.”
“I disagree,” Erwin argued without heat. “When I interviewed, they stated every employee is given the ability to do as they please. To show their strengths and make it their own.”
“Bullshit.”
“It isn’t.” 
Erwin rested the beer bottle on the knee of his trousers. 
“Flexible work hours give me the ability to find another place the gym can call home. The pay would certainly cover any initial costs after several years.”
“Several years?”
Levi frowned, sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Erwin… c’mon. Just take a second to listen to yourself.”
“I’m only offering a chance for you to do the same. You may not be fond of people, Levi, but you’re loyal to a stubborn fault.”
Erwin gave him a sidelong glance.
“I know you won’t put in applications to go to any other gym.”
“Tch.”
A dismissive sound was all he could muster at the time.
He always hated how Erwin could open the cavity of his chest and put his damn bleeding heart on display.
“Who says I haven’t been window shopping to pass the damn unemployment time?”
“I wish you would,” Erwin replied with a heavy sigh. “Your skills are better when in use, not lying waste with the rest of us.”
“Hange and Moblit’re doing just fine.”
Hange, a self-proclaimed babbler, returned to Paradis University to make headway on some fascinating research projects side by side with Moblit. 
It was where they belonged, really.
“Fine, then lying waste with me.”
After a beat, Erwin slid his hand across the space between their chairs and held out a slip of paper.
"Look it over. Really sit down and think about what you did for our fighters and see where I’m coming from. You have a knack for leading. Of making people believe in themselves at their lowest."
He made it a point to stop. Stare.
Levi bit his tongue, meeting his friend's stern gaze.
"Conventional or not, you would still be helping people. Even if it’s a job for a month, at least you’ll be putting a hell of a lot of money in your pocket. It's better than waiting for my signal to move on.”
.
.
— —
.
.
    The bastard was always great at a rousing speech.
That night was the night Levi plugged in the damn website and read the job description.
By morning, he had submitted his application for a part-time hotline employee that included an .mp3 file auditioning his voice.
Erwin must have told his boss that he had a life-long friend possibly interested in the position, because by that night?
Levi Ackerman had a job.
A night turned into a month.
A month turned into six. 
Six to a year.
Suddenly denying begging, pleading people from their chased orgasms became as second nature as completing an Excel sheet.
Yet nothing else changed.
Levi still kept to himself.
Considering the friend group worked odd hours — Erwin with his own clientele, Moblit working towards his Masters, and Hange testing the scientific project of the week at the same university when unsupervised — it was easy to.
Wake up. Work out. Eat. Run errands. Clock in for work. Clock out. Eat. Sleep. 
Repeat.
Routine.
Hell, a lot of his life worked like a well-oiled machine until you showed up.
Now his world is slightly spinning off-axis, and he knows:
Without talking to his friends about his (uncharacteristically selfish and) impulsive decision, everything could very well go up in flames.
(Because when it comes to sticking matters of the heart and Levi Ackerman in one room, the former never walks out.)
After a pregnant pause in this three-way stand-off, Hange leans in, pressing both hands onto the tops of their thighs. 
“So when you say you’re seeing someone, you mean like… romantically?”
“As opposed to what?” Levi flatly asks.
“Well, seeing someone could mean anything, especially for you,” Hange reasons. Levi’s eyes narrow when Erwin gives that short huff of air through his nose like he’s stifling a laugh. “You could be seeing someone about finally fixing your dryer.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m just saying, romantically isn’t the first idea that comes to mind!”
“I have to agree with Zoe,” Erwin finally states, shifting his blue eyes to Levi’s. “You never mentioned that you had met someone in our group chat, and you haven’t made any changes in your schedule that suggest otherwise.”
Levi can’t help but scoff.
“Oh, so now you’re following Hange’s goddamn Google calendar?”
That fucking calendar.
The ‘we’re so busy but we can’t lose touch just because the gym went under’ calendar hastily made at two in the morning and sent with a declaration of war if no one accepted the invite.
All four of them did.
(Then again, Moblit didn’t have much of a choice.)
“I check on occasion,” is Erwin’s short rebuttal, before sitting up straighter. “But the former argument stands: you didn’t tell us that you were dabbling in the dating scene.”
“Wouldn’t really call it dabbling, Erwin,” Levi huffs, picking up his tea cup by clawing the rim of the ceramic. “Shit just kind of happened.”
“Uh-uh,” Hange interrupts. “We’re not playing coy right now, Levi. I want details: name, height—”
“Occupation,” Erwin agrees.
“Where they’re from.”
“If they have siblings.”
“Do they live near here?”
“If they’re allergic to cats.”
An involuntary grimace passes over Levi’s face.
“Ooh! We also need to know if they like tennis,” Hange adds excitedly. “Don’t trust someone who likes tennis, spectator or player. They’re always too put together with an underlying layer of batshit crazy.”
Erwin halts mid-sip of his tea. 
“...I like tennis.”
Hange’s thumb and middle finger sharply snap. “Exactly.”
Enough.
Levi hastily pushes his black fringe out of his eyes with his free hand. “I— No, Jesus, can we stop speculating about her?”
“Why?” Erwin challenges.
“Because I told you what you needed to know,” Levi challenges without tripping over his words. “And I’d prefer to keep the rest of myself.”
“Ah, her.”
When he turns his attention to Hange, there’s a wicked glimmer in their eye.
Well, fuck him.
Too much has already been said.
Hange whistles low. 
“So how recently was this fair maiden introduced into thy friend’s life?”
“Don’t start talking like a freak, Four Eyes,” he warns them while they suppress a cackle between pressed lips. “And — fuck, fine. If no one is going to let it go—”
“We aren’t.”'
Erwin interrupts, making it two against one.
With a set glare at his blonde friend, the smaller man sinks further into his chair and sighs with reluctant resolve. 
“I… met her a few days ago. It...”
Trailing off, he sets his tea cup down to rub at his temples with one hand.
This is going to bring on a headache. 
He really doesn’t need it on a work night.
“You’re both going to have an opinion on the how, and trust me, so do I.”
Hange’s face screws up in confusion, but he sees it out of the corner of his eye.
Erwin grows still. Contemplative.
Yeah, he knew this was going to go terribly.
“Huh?” Hange whips their ponytail back and forth to look between both men, smacking themself on the sides of their face. “Why wouldn’t we approve of how? Is it one of the old fighters?”
Levi scoffs, dropping to sit back in his chair. “I’d rather choke.”
“Then I’m not following. You don’t even talk to cashiers at the grocery store.”
“When did she call the hotline?” Erwin asks, cutting straight through the bush instead of beating around it.
His stare is almost indiscernible. Stern.
(Protective.)
The lightbulb clicks. Hange finally settles their attention on him. 
“Whoa — wait, she’s a…”
“Former client,” Levi confesses after Hange trails off. “Emphasis on the former part.”
The room grows silent.
Levi doesn’t have the capacity to see Hange’s true reaction, because he’s keeping eye contact with Erwin.
Their own telepathic argument bounces back and forth like that very proverbial tennis ball Hange had so teasingly laid down.
The ethics of it all;
The logistics of what it could mean for the future;
The gravity of this choice and knowing its weight is crushing him.
Erwin’s gaze softens a fraction.
Levi’s shoulders relax, if only a little.
“And how did that opportunity come to pass?” the taller blonde finally asks, but it isn’t as harsh as Levi anticipated. 
Hell, it’s curious.
Willing — to not judge; to hear him out.
“Accidentally stumbled into her at the bar down the street,” Levi confesses.
Stumbled is an understatement.
.
.
— —
.
.
    “So then — what does this mean?”
He doesn’t know.
God, he has no fucking clue.
Just like he had no fucking clue you’d be at this bar tonight; that you not only lived in the area, but in the same goddamn building just a few floors south.
You were meant to be a fluke thing.
A moment of weakness.
An anomaly he could solve like every other problem in his life, one he could reason to death and move on from once you realized that this hotline is a slippery slope to financial debt.
At the end of the day, it wasn’t meant to be real.
The calls, the laughter, the exchange of stories felt real, but that’s the selling point.
Imagining idealism.
He could send as many discounted invoices as he could to management to ease the cost of your calls, but there was only so much he could do from his position.
Still—
That being said, he wanted this.
For the first time in a long time, he wanted something.
Ever since Erwin’s gym went under and the staff were forced to find something else in the interim, Levi Ackerman turned off his emotions. His passion.
Money was tight. 
Bills were bills. 
But there are worse things to do than apply to a remote-working sex hotline with the promise of flexible hours, medical insurance, and the opportunity to get away from people for a while.
Maybe he hadn’t realized he was simply going through the motions of buying a morning tea at the coffee shop down the street. 
Maybe he hadn’t noticed that his drive to push himself to the brink of exhaustion at the gym all but disappeared.
Maybe he existed to simply exist.
Then you called.
Petra had pinged him to let him know that there was someone looking for a deep voice — not surprising — with a tendency to overtalk and overthink.
Easy.
Those types always cave the second you call them a pet name or sprinkle a little praise.
Yet you burst into his life like a damn firework to the face and he’s never recovered since.
Being nervous is a staple on these calls. He’s heard every justification in the book just as he’s witnessed people use the hotline like they’re robots.
You wanted to talk.
Petra doesn’t send people to him if they want to talk.
(Did she know, somehow, that he needed this?)
Conspiracies aside, the last two weeks became some of the best of his life.
Now you knew his face, and he knew yours.
And Christ, you were beautiful. 
Your voice was one thing — like a soothing balm to his insomnia — but your face nearly took him right the hell out.
Even in the mirror backsplash of the bar, he couldn’t stop staring. Didn’t want to, not when he finally saw what he wanted right in the palm of his hand.
So he was honest.
Honest about his life, his job, his black hole of an existence — maybe to scare you away so you’d choose better than a guy like him.
That he was the first to break the rules.
That he was sorry, because you weren’t looking for more baggage after a shit breakup with a shithead of a guy.
You didn’t care.
So he decided to rip a page out of his goddamn advice book:
Be selfish.
“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”
Autopilot.
Everything is on autopilot when he picks up that damn pen and starts to scribble on a napkin, allowing his nervous system to suckerpunch his logic right out the damn window.
“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow—”
Bail.
Bail, bail, bail, before you make a damn fool of yourself, Levi Ackerman.
He doesn’t.
He straightens his spine, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand. 
The heat of it almost makes his stomach clench.
If he were bolder, then maybe he’d steal you away from your friends. Keep asking questions to make you talk more. Watch as your eyes light up about your favorite things—
He can’t. Won’t.
You’re with your friends. He’s already taken enough time away from them for you.
“—give me a call.”
Maybe he’s chickenshit for running, but at least there’s a part of him brave enough to leave him his personal cell number in the palm of your hand.
Before you can say anything, he drops some money on the counter to pay for both drinks and a tip and leaves to walk home.
To contemplate.
(Assuming you likely won’t call. He wouldn’t blame you.)
The night air leaves a sobering sting on his cheeks as he steps outside.
It’s considerably quieter than the cramped space of the bar, but cabs bustle in the street.
His pocket vibrates not once but twice.
(So not a text.)
Fishing his phone out, Levi squints at the ‘Unknown Caller’ ID staring up at him.
He swipes right to accept said call, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”
“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”
His heart falls out of his ass.
Whipping back around to the tinted windows of the bar, Levi can’t help but look for that now-familiar face.
You’re blocked by an endless sea of conversations and bodies, but he still searches.
“My schedule just opened up,” you tell him from the other side of the line, your voice airy like you hold a secret. “I know it’s a little late for some coffee, but — are you free for some tea now?”
Shit.
Maybe he should be giving the headset for the hotline over to you.
“Depends,” Levi exhales. “Any shop worth a damn is closed at this hour.”
“Shit, you’re right.”
He liked it when you cursed. 
Hell, he liked it when you weren’t afraid to be yourself around him the most.
“There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours,” Levi reasons with a shrug he assumes you can’t see; autopilot, “if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.”
.
.
— —
.
.
    “You said that?”
Hange, now at the brink of teetering off of their chair, gawks.
Levi blinks twice, realizing he’s given more of the story than he wanted to.
That they know it’s serious — dead fucking serious for him, actually — and that you’re his neighbor.
Yeah, he didn’t believe it either until you said yes.
“What?” Levi asks. “Something wrong?”
“No, that was just fucking smooth, dude,” Hange whistles low, impressed. “Pop-a-button-and-open-a-window kinda smooth. Holy shit.” They thumb towards Erwin. “You teach him to talk like that!?”
“Self-taught, I’m afraid,” Erwin hums. “Can’t take the credit.”
Hange flops back into their chair unceremoniously. “Jeeeez.”
“Six floors down, then?”
There’s a rare tint of pride in Erwin’s tone, like there’s a joke somewhere in that question he isn’t saying. 
Levi immediately narrows his eyes.
“Yeah. She’s been my fuckin’ neighbor all this time, if you can believe that.”
He sure as hell can’t. The fact that you’re six floors away — have been — has kept him up at night.
He could run down there right now and show you off to his friends.
He could leave you home-cooked meals if you’re running behind at your office job.
He could do a lot of things, but—
“Is she requesting you to end your time at Scout Services?” Erwin asks, interrupting his trailing thoughts.
Levi’s stormy eyes meet a contemplative, oceanic stare.
“...no.”
A beat passes.
Despite his trepidation, he explains himself.
“She’s not asking me to quit it. Says she gets it, a job’s a job, but I don’t know how true that’ll be in the long run.”
“And you believe her?”
He knows Erwin’s skepticism isn’t unfounded, but it sets a fire in his belly.
Questioning you, the newfound gravity keeping him grounded on planet earth.
(You're just a stranger to him, too, at the end of the day, but you don't feel like one. Not really.)
“I can’t expect anyone to stay neutral about what the fuck it is we do, Erwin," he reasons diplomatically. "I can say everything on my mind and put it on paper, but I’m sure the doubt will still creep in. Everything’s too new to tell. It won’t be easy, but it…”
He sighs, running his hand once more through his straight-and-narrow black hair. 
“I just need you two dumbasses to keep me in check. I can’t—”
Hange frowns, and he hates the sympathetic tone they take when they say his name. 
“Levi—”
“Four Eyes,” Levi interrupts stronger yet weaker in resolve, effectively shutting down their protest, “I can’t fuck this up. So don’t let me.”
The air grows thick, like winding vines corrupting the foundation of a tree.
Levi glances between the two of them, nostrils flaring with unspoken difficulty.
Erwin is the first to nod. Wordlessly, but he does.
Hange sighs with conclusion not a second after and nods, too.
“Am I at least allowed to ask one thing?” they chirp, holding out one slender finger to the sky. “Just one teeny, tiny thing — yes or no.”
A part of him really wants to say no.
A part of him really wants to say this conversation is over before he gives them anymore concrete information about you as he navigates these uncharted waters of being a not-so-normal boyfriend to a very-normal-ass person.
He fights.
Fails.
“...fine,” he grumbles. “The fuck’s the question?”
Hange perks up, all too smug.
“Did the pop-up shop six floors up line work?”
The memory blossoms in the back of his skull.
His body warms as if trapped under an electric blanket, heat setting cranked a little too high. 
Instinctively his eyes flicker to the front door of his apartment.
Like you’ll burst in at any moment with your work bags and stress and the hope that he’ll have the same soothing balm you’ve gifted him, hands at the ready to fix your problems for you.
He hasn’t wanted much.
He’s never wanted much, but—
Shit, if he doesn’t want to be good to you.
“...something like that.”
.
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Author's Note:
AHHHH HI EVERYONE! WE'RE AT IT AGAIN WITH MODERN!LEVI SHENANIGANS! How are we feeling to be back?
I seriously cannot believe we're here. I've never done a sequel before, but the demand was overwhelming and I couldn't help but agree: we could do with learning what happens after the final call.
And we will, in this seven (maybe more?) part series. I had to actually break up part one because it got way too large of a chapter, so I promise we'll be picking up right where we left off in P4 -- like, quite literally That Fateful Night in part two.
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the hardest part abt writing SNK fic is that every character is more interesting than all the other characters
#x#like objectively speaking#Historia is more interesting than Falco#AND Falco is more interesting than Historia#and Annie and Levi are each more interesting than the other#SNK#in one sense EMA is like whatever but in another very real sense they are like Everything You’ve Ever Been Or Will Be#it’s because he’s blended high concepts with universal experiences#(I don’t mean universal as in ‘every person experiences this’ I mean it as in ‘every kind of human has heard this story’)#that’s what makes a character Interesting™ isn’t it#and that’s how he conveys message too. he takes a high concept so far removed from reality that nobody reading could say#‘I’ve experienced this’#and you climb down the ladder until you get to the ground and find humanity#it’s like comedy that unites a polarized audience with a mutually enjoyed absurdity#this is why I get frustrated when people say SNK is about war.#yes it *concerns* war but war is just one part of the exposition of the story he’s been telling since chapter 1.#yes he’s talking about the consequences of isolationism but he’s ALSO talking about the consequences of globalism#the simple fact of the matter is#you’re trying too hard to pigeon-hole the themes into your bite-sized first-world Western understanding#if he wanted you to do that he would’ve introduced Marley from the start instead of at the end#attack on titan is not about war it’s about What is mankind and what are we doing here and why are we doing it like this?#the man’s read Paradise Lost for crying out loud and you should know my phone autocorrected that to Paradis Lost#mobile#analysis#and Fullmetal Alchemist does this too btw. ppl loooovw to say Fullmetal Alchemist is about war. again it *concerns* war#but war is NOT what it’s about#war is a vehicle to show what it’s about#anyways I’m going to bed ​don’t y’all dare tell anyone i know that i’m writing anime fan fiction i will slay you where you stand
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talesofesther · 1 year ago
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make it taste like love
Loki x Reader
Summary: You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.
A/N: A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3
Word count: 6k
Masterlist
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The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.
Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.
A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.
King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.
─── ·❆· ───
This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.
You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anyway—and you missed your friend.
"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.
"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.
With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.
Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."
"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.
"That's… to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."
"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.
Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, so…"
You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.
Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.
No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.
Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.
You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.
See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skin—something you were able to ignore if you wanted to.
But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.
And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?
You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.
You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.
Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.
There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyes—bright and ocean-green—were settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.
Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.
You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.
─── ·❆· ───
The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.
It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.
In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.
You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satellite—great, now you were arguing with the cosmos.
Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his forehead—your abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.
But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.
The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.
It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so… soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.
"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"
Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?
His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."
You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."
The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.
The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.
"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.
"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.
"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had… abilities, but he never specified what they are."
Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.
Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"
You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or… take away pain."
Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.
"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.
You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.
When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.
─── ·❆· ───
You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.
Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.
When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.
So far, it hasn't happened yet.
The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.
And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.
With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.
The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.
Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.
You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.
It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.
Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."
"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"
"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.
Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."
You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"
For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.
Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."
You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."
There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.
"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"
The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.
─── ·❆· ───
After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.
"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.
"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.
"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.
Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.
Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"
You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.
"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.
As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.
Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.
You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.
Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.
You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.
"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.
"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.
"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.
Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.
It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.
Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.
─── ·❆· ───
The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.
You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.
The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.
"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.
"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.
You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.
Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.
You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.
You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.
You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.
Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.
The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.
"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.
He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.
You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."
A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."
"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.
Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"
He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?
"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."
Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.
It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.
"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."
The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.
"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."
Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.
"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.
"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."
There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gaze—you sure felt it.
Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."
You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.
Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.
He melted into you.
Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulder—you soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.
The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.
You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.
His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you… take away my pain?"
You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."
Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Loki’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @justaproudslytherpuff @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism
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afolksongs · 2 years ago
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Sasha and I were like twins. It's like I'm losing half of myself.
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oifaaa · 2 months ago
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Can you elaborate on the Jason in Titans Tower was a hallucination/dream theory :0c? I've never heard of it before and it sounds interesting!
I have a longer post about it somewhere but the overall gist is Tim used to hallucinate alot, Jason never actually mentions Tim at all throughout utrh, his reasons for attacking Tim are very weird compared to everything he'd been doing so far, the things the titans say about jason are weird considering how they went on a couple missions together when jason was robin and he's meant to be in new York terrorising Dick at this time whys he gone on a road trip to the other side of the contry conclusions Tim was hallucinating
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gumjrop · 1 year ago
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You might be forgiven for thinking it’s been a very quiet few months for the Covid-19 pandemic. Besides the rollout of new boosters, the coronavirus has largely slipped out of the headlines. But the virus is on the move. Viral levels in wastewater are similar to what they were during the first two waves of the pandemic. Recent coverage of the so-called Pirola variant, which is acknowledged to have “an alarming number of mutations,” led with the headline “Yes, There’s a New Covid Variant. No, You Shouldn’t Panic.”
Even if you haven’t heard much about the new strain of the coronavirus, being told not to panic might induce déjà vu. In late 2021, as the Omicron variant was making its way to the United States, Anthony Fauci told the public that it was “nothing to panic about” and that “we should not be freaking out.” Ashish Jha, the Biden administration’s former Covid czar, also cautioned against undue alarm over Omicron BA.1, claiming that there was “absolutely no reason to panic.” This is a telling claim, given what was to follow—the six weeks of the Omicron BA.1 wave led to hundreds of thousands of deaths in a matter of weeks, a mortality event unprecedented in the history of the republic.
Indeed, experts have been offering the public advice about how to feel about Covid-19 since January 2020, when New York Times columnist Farhad Manjoo opined, “Panic will hurt us far more than it’ll help.” That same week, Zeke Emanuel—a former health adviser to the Obama administration, latterly an adviser to the Biden administration—said Americans should “stop panicking and being hysterical.… We are having a little too much [sic] histrionics about this.”
This concern about public panic has been a leitmotif of the Covid-19 pandemic, even earning itself a name (“elite panic”) among some scholars. But if there’s one thing we’ve learned, three and a half years into the current crisis, it’s that—contrary to what the movies taught us—pandemics don’t automatically spawn terror-stricken stampedes in the streets. Media and public health coverage have a strong hand in shaping public response and can—under the wrong circumstances—promote indifference, incaution, and even apathy. A very visible example of this was the sharp drop in the number of people masking after the CDC revised its guidelines in 2021, recommending that masking was not necessary for the vaccinated (from 90 percent in May to 53 percent in September).
As that example suggests, emphasizing the message “don’t panic” puts the cart before the horse unless tangible measures are being taken to prevent panic-worthy outcomes. And indeed, these repeated assurances against panic have arguably also preempted a more vigorous and urgent public health response—as well as perversely increasing public acceptance of the risks posed by coronavirus infection and the unchecked transmission of the virus. This “moral calm”—a sort of manufactured consent—impedes risk mitigation by promoting the underestimation of a threat. Soothing public messaging during disasters can often lead to an increased death toll: Tragically, false reassurance contributed to mortality in both the attacks on the World Trade Center and the sinking of the Titanic.
But at a deeper level, this emphasis on public sentiment has contributed to confusion about the meaning of the term “pandemic.” A pandemic is an epidemiological term, and the meaning is quite specific—pandemics are global and unpredictable in their trajectory; endemic diseases are local and predictable. Despite the end of the Public Health Emergency in May, Covid-19 remains a pandemic, by definition. Yet some experts and public figures have uncritically advanced the idea that if the public appears to be tired, bored, or noncompliant with public health measures, then the pandemic must be over.
But pandemics are impervious to ratings; they cannot be canceled or publicly shamed. History is replete with examples of pandemics that blazed for decades, sometimes smoldering for years before flaring up again into catastrophe. The Black Death (1346–1353 AD), the Antonine Plague (165–180 AD), and the Plague of Justinian (541–549 AD), pandemics all, lacked the quick resolution of the 1918 influenza pandemic. A pandemic cannot tell when the news cycle has moved on.
Yet this misperception—that pandemics can be ended by human fiat—has had remarkable staying power during the current crisis. In November 2021, the former Obama administration official Juliette Kayyem claimed that the pandemic response needed to be ended politically, with Americans getting “nudged into the recovery phase” by officials. It is fortunate that Kayyem’s words were not heeded—the Omicron wave arrived in the US just weeks after her article ran—but her basic premise has informed Biden’s pandemic policy ever since.
Perhaps even less responsibly, the physician Steven Phillips has called for “new courageous ‘accept exposure’ policies”—asserting that incautious behavior by Americans would be the true signal of the end of the pandemic. In an essay for Time this January, Phillips wrote: “Here’s my proposed definition: the country will not fully emerge from the Covid-19 pandemic until most people in our diverse nation accept the risk and consequences of exposure to a ubiquitous SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes Covid-19.”
This claim—that more disease risk and contagion means the end of a disease event—runs contrary to the science. Many have claimed that widespread SARS-CoV-2 infections will lead to increasingly mild disease that poses fewer concerns for an increasingly vaccinated (or previously infected) population. In fact, more disease spread means faster evolution for SARS-CoV-2, and greater risks for public health. As we (A.C. and collaborators) and others have pointed out, rapid evolution creates the risk of novel variants with unpredictable severity. It also threatens the means that we have to prevent and treat Covid-19: monoclonal antibody treatments no longer work, Paxlovid is showing signs of viral resistance, and booster strategy is complicated by viral evolution of resistance to vaccines.
But these efforts to manage and direct public feelings are not just more magical thinking; they are specifically intended to promote a return to pre-pandemic patterns of work and consumption. This motive was articulated explicitly in a McKinsey white paper from March 2022, which put forward the invented concept of “economic endemicity”—defined as occurring when “epidemiology substantially decouples from economic activity.” The “Urgency of Normal” movement similarly used an emotional message (that an “urgent return to fully normal life and schooling” is needed to “protect” children) to advocate for the near-total abandonment of disease containment measures. But in the absence of disease control measures, a rebound of economic activity can only lead to a rebound of disease. (This outcome was predicted by a team that was led by one of the authors [A.C.] in the spring of 2021.)
A pandemic is a public health crisis, not a public relations crisis. Conflating the spread of a disease with the way people feel about responding to that spread is deeply illogical—yet a great deal of the Biden administration’s management of Covid-19 has rested on this confusion. Joe Biden amplified this mistaken perspective last September when he noted that the pandemic was “over”—and then backed that claim by stating, “If you notice, no one’s wearing masks. Everybody seems to be in pretty good shape.” The presence or absence of health behaviors reveals little about a threat to health itself, of course—and a decline in mask use has been shaped, in part, by the Biden administration’s waning support for masking.
Separately, long Covid poses an ongoing threat both at an individual and a public health level. If our increasingly relaxed attitude toward public health measures and the relatively unchecked spread of the virus continue, most people will get Covid at least once a year; one in five infections leads to long Covid. Although it’s not talked about a lot, anyone can get long Covid; vaccines reduce this risk, but only modestly. This math gets really ugly.
The situation we are in today was predictable. It was predictable that the virus would rapidly evolve to evade the immune system, that natural immunity would wane quickly and unevenly in the population, that a vaccine-only strategy would not be sufficient to control widespread Covid-19 transmission through herd immunity, and that reopening too quickly would lead to a variant-driven rebound. All of these unfortunate outcomes were predicted in peer-reviewed literature in 2020–21 by a team led by one of the authors (A.C.), even though the soothing public messaging at the time called it very differently.
As should now be very clear, we cannot manifest our way to a good outcome. Concrete interventions are required—including improvements in air quality and other measures aimed at limiting spread in public buildings, more research into vaccine boosting strategy, and investments in next-generation prophylactics and treatments. Rather than damping down panic, public health messaging needs to discuss risks honestly and focus on reducing spread. Despite messages to the contrary, our situation remains unstable, because the virus continues to evolve rapidly, and vaccines alone cannot slow this evolution.
In the early months of the pandemic, many in the media drew parallels between the public’s response to Covid-19 and the well-known “stages of grief”: denial, bargaining, anger, depression, and acceptance. The current situation with Covid-19 calls for solutions, not a grieving process that should be hustled along to the final stage of acceptance.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 4 months ago
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Reclaiming What Was Lost (Part 13)
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“Will you come up to the roof with me?” Dick asked softly, he’d pulled Jason aside once the Teen Titans filtered out to head home, Tim and Ellie had lingered a bit longer to hug their family members, but even they had left now. “There’s someone else who’d like to talk to you, if you’re up to it?”
Danny was there in a flash, sometimes Jason forgot about Danny’s enhanced hearing until moments like this when he leaned against Jason’s shoulder and half glared at Dick. “Who is it?” He demanded to know suspiciously, Dick looked startled. 
“Oh, it’s…” He glanced back and forth between the two of them. He’d probably wanted to talk to Jason alone and underestimated the extent to which the two of them didn’t do anything alone at this point. At least not without prior discussion and, usually, having a tracker on each other. “Diana was hoping to see you again.”
Jason’s breathing caught in his throat and stopped entirely for a long moment. Danny looked up at him worriedly, pressing impossibly closer and giving a questioning little trill. “Jason?” He prompted softly. Jason shook his head, trying to knock himself out of his stupor, it didn’t particularly work but at least he was breathing again. He had been both hoping for and dreading this, and now that it was happening he didn’t know what to do.
“Jay, I don’t think she’s mad,” Dick said softly, stepping a little closer and resting a hand on his arm, ignoring or not noticing Danny’s little growl when he stepped into their space. “She doesn’t have a no killing rule like B. She is… upset, but I think it’s because of what happened to you, not because of anything you did, or being disappointed in you.”
“I hope so, because I don’t think I could stand her being disappointed in me.” Jason meant it to be a joke, but it came out far too raw. He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and nodded. “I’ll come,” He agreed, shaking out his arms and drawing on what determination he could.
“Can I come,” Danny asked softly, still tucked against Jason’s side, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes Jason thought were probably unintentional. He didn’t mean to pressure Jason into letting him come, he just wanted to be there to help in any way he could.
“Yes, you can come. Just.. let me handle it okay? Unless she attacks me I guess-”
“She won’t!” Dick put in, shocked at the suggestion. 
“Right,” Jason said, nodding again. “But unless she does, just hang back and let us talk,” He told Danny gently. 
“Alright,” Danny said. It might be just a little bit of a struggle for him because he was used to jumping in when Jason was struggling to express his feelings, but Jason believed that he would do it. Unless Jason asked Danny to, so he’d just have to resist doing that impulsively if things got hard. Danny was good at expressing Jason’s feelings for him, but Jason didn’t want to rely on Danny for this, especially because he didn’t know the history between Jason and Diana.
“Alright, she’s waiting for us now. She has been for a bit but I didn’t want to break up the party and she said she’d wait as long as we needed. I know she was always your hero Jay, but she cared about you too,” Dick encouraged, before leading the way up to the roof. The stair to the roof access had never felt so long to Jason, he was glad to have Danny right behind him or he might have turned back.
Jason hesitated in the doorway when he saw Diana’s outline, sitting on the edge of the roof with her back to them, her long curly hair swishing slightly in the night breeze. She must have heard them though, because she turned to face them and smiled softly. Jason took a deep breath and stepped out of the doorway, walking across the roof towards her. She met him half way in a flash and he flinched as she reached out to him, and pulled him quickly into her arms. 
“You’ve grown so much, Little Bird,” She murmured into his hair. She was barely taller than him anymore, it had felt like she would tower over him forever, and now they were the same height. He was an adult, he was grown, he still felt small in her arms. 
He hugged her back and burst into tears, pressing his face into her shoulder. 
“Ohh, little warrior,” Diana soothed and lamented, cradling the back of his head and holding him close as he sobbed like he hadn’t since he was a child. “You’ve been so brave, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
Why was he crying? He was crying for the child who he had been, the child who had to grow up far too fast and who had died. He had still been a teenager when he was resurrected, he was barely out of his teens now and he had missed those years he’d grown the most in a haze of glowing green rage. He wore a helmet so no one would know how young he was. Running his fucking empire of crime when he could have been in his second year of university if the Joker hadn’t killed him. Could have had a… not good, but maybe decent relationship with his adopted father. He grieved furiously for what might have been had the world been kinder.
“You’re still a warrior Jason. You’re protecting your people, as any good leader should. I’m proud of the man you’ve become,” Wonder Woman told him and Jason sobbed again, clinging to her hard enough that it would probably hurt an ordinary person but she was sturdy. 
“You- You have no idea how much that means to me,” He gasped brokenly. 
“I know, and I mean it. You will build a good life for yourself here, things will be better,” She cooed, rocking him gently. “You have your lover, you have your brothers, and your friends. And me, now that we know that you’re back you won’t be alone anymore. We won’t lose you again,” She promised him. “Just promise me that if you are ever in a situation like that again, you’ll call us this time.” 
“I promise,” Jason agreed and it felt like he was finally able to breathe, after so fucking long the weight on his chest lifted a little. Danny believed in him, Dick and Tim didn’t fight with him, but Danny would have followed Jason anywhere, and not fighting was not the same as believing. That Diana was proud of him, that someone else truly believed in him, meant more to him then he would have imagined. “Thank you.” 
A part of him wanted to pull away, pull himself together as quickly as possible to avoid the appearance of weakness. But he needed this, she had been like a parent to him and he had been so starved for parental love. He took a deep breath and tried to pull away, but she held him tighter.
“Take as much as time as you need to,” She told him softly, earnestly enough that he let himself believe it and relaxed back into her arms. She just held him as he cried out the years and the abandonment of his father, the death of both of his mothers, and all the shit he’d been put through with the League. “Never doubt that you are loved.”
Finally Jason pulled back and wiped the wetness from his eyes. They felt puffy and a little sore, but he felt much better anyway, if thirsty as hell! Jason glanced around and saw Danny hovering nearby, looking uncertain and worried. “I’m okay Beloved,” Jason said, opening his arms to his boyfriend who flitted into them immediately and held Jason fiercely, nuzzling into his chest. 
“Thank you for coming to see us, Diana. Um, this is Danny, Hyena. He’s been my partner since pretty soon after I came back, and my boyfriend a bit more recently.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Diana said warmly, reaching out to shake Danny’s hand waiting till Danny decided he was willing to let go of Jason with one hand at least. Jason could tell as they shook hands they were both squeezing too hard, testing each other. “Don’t you hurt him, he’s been through enough,” She warned Danny softly.
“I’m not planning on it,” Danny agreed, leaning against Jason’s chest lightly. “We’ll invite you over for dinner sometime soon, if you’d like to come. Won’t we Jason?” He asked, glancing up at Jason who nodded.
“Of course, just give us a heads up and you’re welcome to visit any time really,” Jason reiterated.
“Thank you, I would like to get to know the man you’ve become as well as I did the child you were,” Diana told him. “I will call you soon. I want to have another… chat with Bruce tonight.” She said grimly, she gave Jason one more hug, and nodded to Danny before she leapt off the roof and across half a block in one bound, carrying on out of sight quickly.
“I told you it would go well didn’t I Jay?” Dick said, and Jason had almost forgotten he was there. He’d been hanging back, watching the touching scene. As he walked forward he brushed some tears from his eyes even as he smiled, the sentimental bastard.
Jason stepped forward and scooped Dick up in a tight hug, lifting his feet off the ground as Dick wheezed. “Ya, you did, thanks Dick,” He said before putting Dick down just as quickly. “Now don’t overstay your welcome. I want to go home,” He muttered gruffly, he had had just about enough emotions for today. 
“Right, of course little brother, I’ll see you soon,” Dick agreed, patting Jason’s shoulder before he headed out as well.
Jason turned back into Danny’s waiting arms, drooping and letting his forehead rest on Danny’s shoulder, letting Danny hold him. God he was exhausted. What a fucking day. He let Danny guide him home using his powers to lower them through the roof so they could skip the stairs.
--------------
It seemed like after that disaster of a meeting the news that the second Robin was back was hot gossip in the hero community. It worked its way around the grapevine and Jason received calls from a few more heroes who found out who he was. Not all of them went well, some seemed downright disgusted by what he’d chosen to do with his life. But it was mostly fine, he didn’t really care what they thought about him anyway.
There was one call Jason still hadn’t gotten, and wouldn’t admit that he was waiting for, but he’d heard about what had happened to Roy. Kidnapped and cloned and kept unconscious for years by CADMUS. Ah the joys of being a child hero huh?
He went by Arsenal now apparently, and it seemed like what they’d been through, while not exactly similar… Well, they both had just about comparable levels of angst. Surely Roy wouldn’t judge him, surely Roy would reach out? Or was he too mad that Jason hadn’t reached out first, that he’d had to hear his friend was alive through the rumour mill? Jason would understand that honestly, he’d thought about reaching out, he really had! But somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Danny could tell he was worried and was worried too in turn, hovering near him more often and watching as Jason compulsively checked his ‘work phone’. Danny had asked what was wrong, but when Jason had just shook his head he seemed to resign himself to waiting out whatever this was and supporting Jason as well as he could. Jason didn’t want to worry Danny, but he didn’t want to talk about his quiet yearning for his old best friend. Speaking about it would make it too real, and Danny would probably advise him to just call Roy. It wouldn’t be bad advice, but Jason just wasn’t ready to hear it.
Jason was just starting to resign himself to the fact that he was going to have to reach out himself when the phone call finally came. When it rang Jason snatched it up quickly and answered it before the ringing could disturb Danny’s sleep. Pausing the movie Danny had fallen asleep to so that he could focus on the call.
“Hey Fuckface, too good for your oldest friend now?” Roy’s voice came through the phone. It was deeper and rougher then Jason remembered but it was still familiar, it still had that slight, almost unplaceable accent that Roy had. 
“Course not, it’s good to hear from you,” Jason said, smiling despite the fear that Roy was mad at him. Fuck it was good to hear his voice again!
“Then why didn’t you call me?” Roy demanded, furious and hurt. Jason couldn’t blame him.
“I… I wasn’t ready to, after everything. I wasn’t ready to be Jason again for a really long time and then I was worried it was too long and you’d be mad. I’m really sorry, I should have reached out,” Jason said, ashamed of himself.
“No… I’m still mad but I do get that,” Roy admitted, the wind leaving his sails abruptly. “I couldn’t go back to being who I was after what happened to me either. That’s why I go by Arsonal now, you heard that right?”
“I did ya, and I heard what happened too. I’m sorry dude, we both got the shit end of this ‘hero’ stick huh?” Hood said with a bitter little chuckle.
“Yep. And everyone’s still pissy we want to be a little selfish with our skills now. But I just want to live a good life and have a little fun now! And provide for my little girl.”
“Your-” Jason cut off, his jaw dropping for a moment. “Holy shit, Roy do you have a kid?!”
“Ya I do. Her name is Lian and she’s the light of my life. Her mama’s in prison so it’s just the two of us, so I do what I gotta do to provide for her while spending the least amount of time away from her I can manage. The jobs I take have gotta be worth getting a nanny to take care of her too, and you would not believe how expensive childcare is!”
“Congratulations dude! I’m sure you’re a great dad,” Jason cheered softly. He was, though the Roy he’d known before he went missing would probably have been a shit father the way Roy talked about his daughter now left no doubt in Jason’s mind Roy was a good dad.
“Thanks dude, I certainly try. What about you? No kids but I’ve heard through the grapevine you’ve got a partner?” Roy asked with a teasing note to his voice. It was like no time had passed, it made Jason smile even as he blushed just a little.
“Ya, Hyena has been through a lot of the same shit as me. He understands me, you know? He’s… he’s really good to me, puts up with more of my shit then he should have to and I love him for it.” 
“Damn, I’d like to meet him. And see you. It’s been too long since I’ve had contact with… any of our old crowd you know? They just don’t understand anymore,” Roy sighed, Jason echoed the sound. 
“Ya, I do know. You should come visit, we’ll get some drinks and the three of us can bond. You’ll like him, maybe you’ll get two friends for the price of one,” Jason suggested hopefully. 
“Ya, maybe. That would be nice. How about.. Next Thursday? Weekends are always busiest for our ilk, eh?” 
“Ya, that sounds good.”
“You don’t have to ask Hyena first?” Roy questioned curiously. 
“No, he won’t mind. He’s pretty content to go wherever I go honestly,” Jason said with a little shrug. 
“He’s there with you right now?” Roy sounded amused. 
“Ya, he’s asleep with his head on my lap,” Jason chuffed, glancing down at Danny and stroking his hair, his presence barely registered to Jason anymore. He was always there, being with Danny was like being alone, but so, so much better. Being with Danny had all the comfort of being alone with none of the loneliness, coldness, or opportunities to spiral. He felt his heart flutter as under his hand Danny’s purr stuttered and then grew louder as he cuddled in closer. 
“Hmph, will you wake him up so I can give him a shovel talk?” Roy asked, and Jason got the impression he was only half joking. 
“No need, Nightwing already gave him one, and they’re all pretty performative anyway since he could beat up God in a Denny's parking lot… To be honest that’s something that’s bothered me. Not the power thing, I mean people want to give him a shovel talk about me, but no one’s given me one about him. And I’ve definitely hurt him worse than he’d ever hurt me, but there’s no one… left. Besides his little sister and I don’t think she will. She needs to believe he’s indestructible because he’s all she has left,” He sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch cushions.
“Holy shit dude,” Roy breathed on the other side of the phone, with a sigh that made Jason wince with the static. 
“Ya, sorry, I think I got a little too deep there. This is the first time I’ve talked to an… actual friend in a while you know? I’m back in contact with my brothers, and Diana came to visit. But I haven’t reconnected with any of the old crowd and I don’t really want to talk to my brothers about my relationship, you know?”
“No, I mean, Ya I get it, and no worries. We really should meet up for that drink, and maybe it’d actually be best if it’s just me and you first time? That way we can catch up and you can tell me all about your worries. Maybe I’ll even give You a shovel talk, stand in for whoever would have done it for him if they got the chance? But I was talking about him being able to beat up god.”
Jason let out a bark of a laugh, he’d forgotten Danny’s powers weren’t out in the open yet.“Ya, he’s powerful as hell, he just doesn’t use them much because it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of us.” Jason agreed, nodding even though Roy couldn’t see him. “Meeting alone first sounds like a good plan. I’ll get the Birds of Prey to kidnap him for the evening, Harley and Pam absolutely adore him, and not just cause he killed Joker.”
“I’m sure they do,” Roy said a bit absently. “Hey, Jay?”
“Ya?”
“I really missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
212 notes · View notes