#where the titans’ anger comes calling for this. i think that would rule

[vigilskeep]

some decisions from veilguard are actually only emotionally hitting me days afterwards

[beginnerblueglass]

Titans, S1:E11, Dick Grayson

I'm obsessed with how Trigon went about making Dick lose his mind and "give into the darkness." When I started Titans I said I would watch at least the first season, and this episode is the one that made me love the show and want to keep watching.

I've seen some people say that Titans' Batman is a killer and that that was the source of the tension/break in their relationship, but that's not what the show portrays at all (truly don't know where this came from). This version is the same as the others in that Batman doesn't kill, but Dick does.

Imagine the field of light and dark, with a line between the opposing sides. Batman has a line that he will never cross (no killing), but his line sits a little bit inside the dark. He will go so far and no further. Sure, he will use violence, violate some ethical barriers, spy on people, etc., but never past that line that he's drawn for himself. That's Batman: he fights the darkness (both from Gotham's criminal world and inside his own head) from a little bit inside enemy lines. It helped him cope in an odd way, and he taught that way to Dick. At first, Dick was absolutely murderous, and Bruce essentially went, "Let me show you a better way to harness that. Let me show you a way that you can use the darkness to deal with the mess inside you and fight and punish evil in the world as well. Let me teach you how to take your rage so far and no further."

There's a scene in this episode where Dick says of Bruce, "He doesn't have a conscience; he has a code (…) I was the one with the conscience, which meant that he got to sleep at night while I stared holes in the ceiling." I think that Dick quickly came to realize how dangerous it was for him to flirt with that line of Bruce's. He could see Bruce (with seeming ease) walking that line slightly inside the darkness, calling for Dick to join him. As a boy Dick recognized that he couldn't go just so far and no further; he would lose control if he ever got that close. So he held himself back, staying in the light and straying no farther than the line between the light and dark, finding a balance that pretty much worked for him, even if Bruce wasn't entirely satisfied.

Throughout the first two seasons, Titans peels back all that happened to Dick to make him walk closer and closer to Bruce's line, and eventually cross it. S2 shows how it started. His friend being killed by Deathstroke, his girlfriend telling him to "be Batman," the series of compromises and concessions he makes doing just that, all for it to go horribly wrong (and for his girlfriend to blame him and break up with him smh). Then over a period of four years, it just gets worse and worse. The violence inside him keeps rising and he can't stop it. He is straying dangerously close to that razor's edge, and sees himself about to go over. Then he does. He attempts to murder the man who murdered his parents. The floodgate opened, and there was no going back as far as Dick could see. Now when he puts on the suit and gets into a situation where there's any amount of violence, he can't stop himself. He goes into a dissociative, violent, uncontrollable, killing-machine state, and to his horror finds that he likes it there as long as it lasts. He's trapped in a cycle of violence and killing he can't escape. Fun stuff.

So then Dick is put in a (totally simulated) situation where ^this^ very thing is happening to Bruce, of all people, and it messes with him, shakes his very foundation. Because Bruce isn't supposed to be the killer. He's the anchor, the one who is always steady, at least when it comes to the no-killing rule, and from Dick's perspective. Even when Bruce was driving Dick crazy, he could always depend on that. There’s a part of him that relies on Batman being Batman.

There's a scene where he goes to Wayne Manor and tries to talk to Bruce. I love it. Up until now, he's been consumed with anger towards Bruce and the way he raised him, for introducing him to that line-that-shouldn't-be-crossed in the first place. Here in this vision is actually the first time he's spoken to Bruce in over a year (and because the vision takes place five years in the future, to his mind it's been even longer). Dick tells Bruce that he knows exactly how he's feeling, and admits that the thing that helped him get better was following Bruce's example: taking in a kid that needed help, and helping them. Dick basically admits that while some of the worst things about him he got from Bruce, some of his best qualities he got from him as well! Dick is looking into his future (a possible version of his happy ending), and knows that family is what is going to save him, and once upon a time, when everything in his life turned on its head, Bruce shakily taught him that family, even an odd, mixed-up, imperfect family, could do that. He forgives Bruce, and the healing starts.

But Trigon, the manufacturer of this vision, can't let that be the end. He can't have Dick healing through this, but he does need Dick to start healing so the breakdown is that much more painful and damaging. He needs vision-Bruce to betray Dick and his offer of forgiveness. Again, Trigon doesn't attack Dick directly, he attacks Bruce. (At first, you get caught up in the feeling that "they butchered Batman's character!" Yes, they did. That's the point. We should be feeling at least a small taste of the wrongness that Dick is feeling). In the vision, Bruce disregards Dick's heartfelt words and goes on a rampage, leaving Dick feeling like there's no other option: he has to destroy Batman. Trigon manoeuvres Dick into raiding, then demolishing his old home, literally breaking down and burning his own emotional foundations. Fake-Bruce's crimes increase, becoming more and more reprehensible until Dick is in the position to murder him, and he does it. And Trigon wins this battle, for now. Because it wasn’t just Bruce that Dick destroyed; in doing so he destroyed himself too.

Do I have a conclusion? I don't know!? This episode had my jaw on the floor. From Dick's sunny, idealized future family that is also slightly disturbingly uncanny and perhaps not so happy to the hellfire of a Gotham City whose Batman has turned bad. Watching Dick keep turning back to go home and then get spun around until he goes in the exact direction Trigon wants him to go. Trigon says that the darkness was Dick's choice, and he's totally wrong but also kind of right. The false vision of his future wife and child contrasted with the true vision of his future wife and child in S3. Dick’s desire for a family and normal life, and Dawn being the one shoved in that space (did he used to think about marrying her?) “He’s always alone.” “Not when you’re around.” Dick’s complex relationship with Bruce and how much of his psyche actually relies on it. Kory's death being the thing that truly pushes him over the edge. The Killing Joke references but not quite. All of it being recognizable but not quite. Never actually seeing Bruce Wayne's face or hearing his voice? Just Dick’s reaction to him?

I don't know exactly what happened, but I understand why they wanted to leave this one as the season finale, instead of the episode they aired as the S2 premier, which was just not good (at least the first half). This episode made Trigon so formidable and terrifying and the final battle was so rushed and unsatisfying.

[animebw]

Thinking some more about Attack on Titan, I find the concept of Paths so fucking fascinating as it relates to the role of fate in classic tragedy. Because that’s what Attack on Titan is: a tragedy. At least it is for Eren, who’s followed the path of so many tragic protagonists before him (IMPORTANT NOTICE I AM ANIME ONLY IF YOU SPOIL ANYTHING FROM THE MANGA I WILL END YOU). Hamlet’s indecision, Oedipus’ arrogance, Othello’s wrath, all their fatal flaws led them down increasingly dark paths until they were finally swallowed up by them. And Eren is no different, made a slave to his rage by his mother’s death and pursuing that rage against his perceived enemy until the only way he could be at peace was by destroying the entire world.

But what would happen if, say, Othello was suddenly handed the script of the play that bears his name? What if he was granted the ability to see how his tragic tale would play out while he was still in the middle of living it? Would he try to reject his lines, change his story, re-write the play that dooms him to a tragic end? Or would he accept his fate and follow the path laid before him, knowing everything that’s coming but unable- or unwilling- to stop it?

Because that’s where Eren is right now. He’s a character on a stage that was just handed a copy of the script of his life, a script that shows him how his rage will eventually doom the world and everyone in it. The power of Paths shows him, in no uncertain terms, that his destiny is to become so consumed by hate that nothing less than global genocide will quell the heat. And instead of trying to fix himself and find a better way... he accepts it. Because deep down, I think he knows it’s too late. He’s been so poisoned by the darkness of this world that even if he tried to give up his anger now, its roots have already pushed too deep inside him to ever be pulled free. Even as he cries and apologizes to the children he will one day crush under foot, he knows he doesn’t have the strength of character to find a better way. The script is already written. The performance is well under way. And no matter how hard he might try, he’s already given too much of himself to this role to change this play’s bitter trajectory toward one last curtain call.

Attack on Titan is a story about many things. It’s about war. It’s about generational sins. It’s about lies and propaganda. It’s about the sins of nations falling on their civilians and how those civilians are affected by them. It’s about the compounding failures of humanity that may one day lead us to ultimate destruction. It’s about the need to break free of cycles of violence and fight for a world ruled by kindness. And here, at the end of all things, it’s about how hatred is as powerful a force as fate, driving those consumed by it toward their inevitable end no matter how desperately they thrash against the current. Hate, AOT argues, will eventually be the end of us. It will set us on a course we can never correct, no matter how many of us can see its bloody terminus. And unless we’re able to change before it’s too late, we’ll end up just like Eren: fully aware of the abyss we’re falling into, but too far gone to stop ourselves from plummeting to our doom far, far below.

Unless, of course, there are still people who haven’t taken the plunge, trying their hardest to pull us out before we take the world with us.

[apples-nle]

I remember when Twitter was cool (a eulogy to a website I used to love/hate)

In the next few weeks, I’m likely going to be trying my hand at various different social media sites, figuring out where my new posting home is going to be. My sister recommended Tumblr (which here is my first attempt), Instagram launches it’s much anticipated “Threads” today, a BlueSky code is heading my way very soon, and i’ve been posting nonsense in what is affectionately being called “the drilcord” (a discord server run by twitter icon Dril). All of these things are ostensibly lifeboats being launched from a sinking ship. The death of Twitter has been slower than anticipated, but the Titanic has officially cracked in half and Elon’s takeover seems to be nearly at its inevitable and predictable conclusion: Twitter will die.

My first time logging onto twitter was probably around 2011/2012. I can’t be sure because I’ve deactivated, been banned and started new accounts multiple times over the years. So this telling contains no hard historical data. I am only a single witness to the chaos. But it wasn’t always chaos. I started using the website as a sort of diary... or maybe more accurately an online “whiteboard” where I would post fleeting ideas I could use in my weekly movie reviews that I posted for a small website at the time. I had little intent of really gaining followers or making connections, but the early algorithm tended to push many of us with similar interests together. Most of the conversations would be playful ribbing regarding what movies we loved/hated. Talking about our movie-going experiences that week, posting small capsule reviews of the newest blockbuster. All that sort of junk. I think by the end of 2012 I had something like 150 followers. But I considered a significant chunk of them to be “friends” on some level.

Most of these people would form the bedrock of what came to be known as “Film Twitter”. This experience probably sounds familiar to anyone who had been using twitter at the time. “Book Twitter”, “Weird Twitter”, “Sports Twitter” and many other circles around the website would form similarly. All neatly compacted in their own little echo chamber that didn’t really have much effect on the outside world. And it was fun. These were the early years. Over time, these echo chambers would come into clash with one another and spirited debates would become a dominant event on the website. Often these arguments would spiral in to toxic “i’m right/you’re wrong” that instilled a lot of anger in myself and others. But it also produced an intense high of calling someone a “fartknocker” and watching them “slowly shrink into a corncob”. It also, more importantly started to form a lot of the modern vernacular that would come to define what was cool/not cool on the site. As these different “twitters” converged, one of them really reigned supreme above all: Weird Twitter. I can’t definitively say this was Twitter at its best, but I can say this is when Twitter was at its most original and innovative. The shitposting was incredible. The brain rot had set in and everyone began to post nonsense onto the timeline with little regard for decency or thought. Sarcasm and insincerity ruled the land. It was glorious. And hilarious. The best days were when the Villain of the Week would reveal themselves, with a tweet so dubious, and more importantly, intensely sincere in its stupidity, that the entire site would dogpile on them with such ferocity that it would send people running and screaming from the platform.  Twitter became a mean place and bullying became the norm. Even to this day, this is the one constant that remained among the changing ecosystem over the years. It result in some spectacular displays of roasting. My personal favourite of this was when polls were still a novel tool on the platform. A grandiose “shittiest twitter account of all time” bracket in the style of March Madness took place yearly. In 2016, some of the highest ranking personalities came in the form of Arthur Chu and Mike Cernovich (remember him?). But against all odds #12 ranked Kurt Eichenwald made a cinderella run after posting some truly terrible political opinions around the same time as he posted a picture outing himself as a Hentai enjoyer. This was not really a crime in it of itself, but his attempts to deflect it as  he “was showing my kids/wife that this is a real thing” (paraphrasing) made him look spectacularly dumb. He ended winning that year. God that was so funny. Around this time of course though, one posting personality had emerged that would change the world online and offline: Donald Trump. I won’t recount much of the 45th President’s time in office or his politics. We all know how that went. His role on twitter though was much more complicated. One thing that you need to understand though is that Donald was one of the best shitposters of all time. He was so funny. I’m sorry if this angers you, but all the way back in 2012, all the way up to his eventual twitter ban following the January 6th insurrection, he was glorious. He was a lighting rod for those dogpiling sessions referenced above. But Donald relished in being the villain, and as a result his villainy was suddenly become to be appreciated, because at the end of the day Twitter Is A Mean Place. And those who were among the top tier of shitposting couldn’t help but appreciate the unabashed way he did not give a shit. Game recognized Game. His ascendency to the White House came with a lot of baggage and made a lot of the humor come with an asterisk. It was still very funny, but it was also incredibly terrifying. And the dogpiling became something closer to a crusade in an effort to halt his stampede to the highest power in the Western World. This had the effect of unifying twitter under one large umbrella. It didn’t quite change the website from all the differing chambers into one amorphous blob, but it came close. Politics was the order of the day and nearly everything on the site became an extension of Donald Trump’s candidacy and Presidency. This fixation on politics more and more was already sort of happening way back in 2014 when GamerGate had kicked off, but Trump was the straw that broke the camels back. His contribution is really what turned twitter into what it is today. The echo chambers did inherently still exist, but they overlapped much more frequently now. And ultimately this is also where the decline started. See the thing about politics is that it’s impossible to not be sincere. Because things aren’t really trivial when it comes to all these hot button issues. But because Twitter thrived on chaos and controversy, the loudest and most extreme voices often ended up getting pushed by the algorithm. And unfortunately that often meant suddenly things didn’t seem so trivial anymore. It stopped being fun. But getting the dopamine from those likes and retweets so was intoxicating it didn’t matter. The endless scrolling provided us with spectacular displays of idiocy and god awful posts that we couldn’t look away. We were already addicted. It was impossible to log off.

There is little positive to say about the 7 years since then. Obviously some comedy still had come about, and even twitter’s funniest arcs occurred during this era when Trump caught Covid as well as Jan 6th. But those things were the result of our crumbling society. The site just happened to be there to witness the fall of Rome. More importantly the anger and animosity which was once funny and novel started to become exhausting. Things got pretty real when Nazis and Communists started having more of a voice on the site (not that i’m equating the two ideologies; Fuck Fascists). Radicalization happened at a much larger degree. During this time I deactivated my account twice just to get away from it, because Doomscrolling had become so pervasive it was damaging my mental health. I eventually returned, but I made sure to keep my toe out of the politics pool. I focused more on engaging with experimental artists and tweeting about hockey/football. Things started to calm down after Trump left office but the scars of his time in office remained. It was just a slightly more muted version of this political era. The shitposting would never really return to it’s golden days. No one wanted to say it, but the website wasn’t the same. It was on the decline, and the algorithm had changed so much to reflect the Trump years that came before, that it damaged the once novel user experience. Eventually Elon Musk would step in. He was a big fan of the platform, but he was also one of the worst posters of all time. It didn’t matter much though as he amassed a pretty big following resulting from all his media attention surrounding his business ventures. The news would often portray him as the next Thomas Edison (they were right, but not for the reasons they intended) and many people sincerely looked at him as a genius of the modern era.  That obviously disappeared with time but for some reason Musk was as brain rotted as the rest of us and considered himself an elite poster, likely using his engagement metrics as validation. Unfortunately he’s a stupid billionaire and decided to buy the aging website out of some misplaced desire to enshrine himself as perhaps a holy figure among the masses. It didn’t work. All it ensured was that the slow decline of the site would speed up dramatically. In the era of TikTok, Twitter has begun to show its age. 

It’s probably for the best that twitter ends this way. Instead of quality fading into obscurity, blowing itself up in embarrassing tech blunders run by an incompetent poster is probably the funniest way for the site to die. Everyone jumping ship looking for a new home that fits their preferred communities and posting styles. I’m not sure which one I’m going to land in, but I’ll bounce around until one of them really sticks with me. Maybe it’s tumblr? Maybe Threads? Or maybe I’ll just go back to the Something Awful forums (which is inexplicably still running in 2023).  I don’t know what the point of this eulogy/essay is. I don’t think there’s much of a lesson here. But Twitter was a big part of my life, it outlasted an entire 8 year relationship, multiple jobs, my graduate and post graduate education life, 5 different apartments and numerous friends that have come in and out of my life, I’m going to miss it. And I can’t wait for it to die. P.S. Can anyone teach me how to use this website?

[ectonurites]

has jason ever on page objected to the concept of 'child soldiers' the way he so often does in fanon? as far as i remember he never did in utrh which i read fairly recently. as far as i can tell his beef with bruce is entirely driven by resentment of the fact that bruce won't 'do what needs to be done' and any objection he has about tim is more about being replaced than it is about the idea that batman put another child in danger. which like,, meshes better with the dc precedent that superhero sidekicks aren't explicitly bad but fandom brings it up so often i can't help but wonder.

Nah, as far as I can recall that's a fanon thing.

I think the closest is him calling the idea of Batman having a teen sidekick a mistake while he was in the middle of beating the shit out of Tim:

(Teen Titans Vol. 3 #29)

But… with any sort of context about Jason and other things going on with him, this doesn't read like he has a problem with 'child soldiers'/teenage vigilantes as a general concept- it's not like he says 'training a teenager to be a vigilante' is the mistake, it's specifically Bruce 'training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate'. Jason's problem here is still 100% rooted in his anger at Bruce and how Bruce handles Gotham. It’s a 'My death didn't change anything- it didn't make Bruce kill Joker and didn't even stop him from bringing more people into this cycle who will just inevitably end up getting hurt/killed like me’ sort of thing, elements of that have been expressed elsewhere like UTRH:

(Batman #650)

And also makes me think of this bit in Lost Days:

(Red Hood: The Lost Days #2)

It’s all coming from that same place, of Jason being angry about (and hurt by) Bruce refusing to kill the Joker/the bad guys. When he says Bruce never 'gave a damn about any of us', I imagine the 'us' means 'all the people Bruce involves in hero work' (just a page or so before he mentions Alfred & Dick so like, its the implication). It's Jason saying that by choosing his methods, Bruce is actively endangering the people he involves in the Batfam and that if he really cared about them he would just kill the bad guys- that his own death should have been that turning point. So, at core, I believe Jason was really calling that act of bringing anyone (just especially a kid) into his whole never-ending (because Jason sees killing as the only way to truly ‘end’ it, for things to ever change) fight that he cares about above all else a mistake- not because of some grander moral stance on child soldiers but because he thinks Bruce’s whole approach is a mistake.

Like, it’s just Jason projecting his feelings onto the situation while trying to demoralize Tim (because that’s another factor- he’s saying this during a fight with Tim where he’s… trying to fuck with Tim’s head! Insisting that Tim’s whole current life path is a mistake his mentor made is… part of that!)

And like... here's the thing. I know a lot of people love the 'child protector' Jason idea, I think that goes often hand in hand with the idea of him being against 'child soldiers' in fanon, but especially with pre-reboot Jason... That just doesn’t consistently mesh with what we’re presented!

While I don't think he'd go out of his way to target kids, and he in general thinks kids should be protected and doesn't want harm to come to them (like, he goes through all that effort in Lost Days to take down the child traffickers and save those kids)... Jason is just... not above sacrificing/hurting kids for what he sees as the greater good/for following through with his plans (Remember that time during Battle for the Cowl he shot Damian, his 10 year old brother, for getting in his way?). And he's definitely not against involving teens in vigilante stuff as a general rule. He just doesn't like Bruce doing it because he’s got a whole slew of problems with how Bruce does everything.

Like, for example, Jason himself tried to recruit a teen hero (Mia Dearden) to work with him (and this story was even written by Winick, so like, theoretically this in particular is consistent with his UTRH outlook/ideology)

(Green Arrow Vol. 3 #72)

And at one point he advocated to Tim (while... trying to get him to work with him) for using 'kid gangs' as fodder during a whole gang war erupting in Gotham:

(Robin (1993) #177)

...and shortly after that he tries to get Tim to be his Robin during Battle for the Cowl too.

And after BftC he did eventually get his own teen sidekick, Scarlet/Sasha.

(Batman and Robin (2009) #4)

And while I was mostly talking pre-reboot here, even post-reboot Jason repeatedly ends up working with kids/teens, like Duela Dent

(Red Hood/Arsenal #6)

Who at that time was apparently around the age Jason was when he died:

(Red Hood/Arsenal #10)

And also... all the Generation Outlaws kids who are literally his students in trying to become villains:

(Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #37)

...So yeah, I super don't recall his general stance on 'child soldiers'/teens being vigilantes really changing even with the reboot. (Though I do think post-reboot Jason would not really be willing to sacrifice kids the same way pre-reboot Jason would)

[ragingbookdragon]

The Start of Something Great

Outlaws x Tamaranean!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence and Past Abuse

Author's Note: So this is technically the start of all those One-Shots with the T!Reader. In order, they are the one you're reading right now, then this one, this one, and this one. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She watched the group socialize from her position in the corner; she’d never been out and open like Kori was. She’d always preferred to watch in silence, to observe…the years she spent captive, formed her mindset of watching and waiting for moments of weakness. Speaking of Kori, she watched her step into the room with Dick; their hands tightly clasped together.

Fighting a laugh, she glanced out the window, turning her attention to the waves as they crashed against the rocks below the tower. She wondered why she was here. She wasn’t a part of the Titans…not really. Her animosity towards leniency on justice put her at odds with just about everyone within the group, and especially the Justice League. Well, except for Diana; the Amazon was the only one who truly understood her reasoning.

But as for letting criminals go free? It didn’t happen. Rarely ever, did (Y/N) allow a criminal to walk away from her, and her mind drifted to the memory of her first mission with the Titans.

***

She stepped out of the smoldering hole in the warehouse wall and strode to the criminal crawling from her. Placing her foot square between his pelvis and spine, she stepped down with all her strength and listened to his spine crack under the strain. He let out a bloodcurdling scream and she rolled him over with her foot, glaring down at him, watching as he begged.

“Please!”

A white hot star-bolt formed in her hand and she raised it, speaking coldly. “The women you assaulted and killed did not want to die either.”

The man began to cry as she flung the bolt, watching his body incinerate, and turn to ash; she turned and began walking away, ignoring the concerned look from her sister, and the angry looks from her teammates.

They hadn’t even gotten five feet into the tower when Dick was on her like a beast to a fresh kill. “What the hell was that, (Y/N)?”

She glowered, warning him darkly, “Watch how you speak to me, Richard. I am not Kori. And you should believe me when I tell you that what I feel for you is nothing short of loathing. And loathing is quick to turn deadly should I be pushed.” (Y/N) turned to leave when he moved in front of her again.

“It doesn’t matter what you feel! You owe us an explanation!” He shot back.

She barked a cold laugh. “I owe you nothing, least of all an explanation.”

“You murdered him!”

(Y/N) narrowed her gaze. “And the point you are trying to make is?”

Dick threw his hands into the air. “It was wrong!”

“Was what he did to those innocent women also wrong?” she countered and he all but recoiled.

“Of course! But that doesn’t—”

“But nothing. He was a despicable criminal, and he deserved to die for his crimes.” (Y/N) turned around and began walking to the door.

“We aren’t executioners, Kiyahnd’r.” Dick admonished.

She froze in her spot and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes frosty towards them. “Perhaps not you, Richard. But you were not raped and beaten repeatedly as a young child.” Her gaze narrowed. “My justice is absolute in the face people who do the same thing that was done to me and my sisters. Never forget that.”

***

(Y/N) blinked, dragging herself from the memory; it hadn’t been long after that, that she found herself tangled in combat with the Justice League. Apparently, she had held out against them far longer than anyone ever had, managing to overpower The Flash and Martian Manhunter. She had almost defeated Batman when Wonder Woman and Superman intervened, subduing her. That was a fun day for (Y/N), and she remembered how Batman had made her concede killing people…mostly anyway.

The years had been decent to her and she came to terms with her life, even branching out into modeling like Kori did. They ruled the runways. But the “lone wolf” style she’d developed while in captivity still ruled her, and she found it increasingly hard to keep continuing the team. They had all gathered in the room, and she rose from her seat.

Immediately, the talking stopped as everyone turned to stare at her; Dick smiled at her from his seat, Kori perched herself across his thighs. “You alright, (Y/N)?” She met his eyes before moving to the table and setting down a small metal piece. It clinked and their eyes moved to it, as Dick questioned, “What’s that?”

“You know what it is, Richard.”

He glanced over, looking at the item, and took in the realization of what it was. “Your key to the tower?”

(Y/N) nodded. “As of now, I formally relinquish my role as a Titan.” Ignoring the shocked gasps and stares, she continued. “I will be leaving at dusk.” (Y/N) made her way to the door. “Thank you…and goodbye.” She didn’t wait for their replies, moving to her bedroom.

She closed the door and sat beside the window, occasionally glancing at her packed bag. (Y/N) had money saved up over the years, from odd jobs to her professional modeling career worldwide and she still had big money rolling into her bank account from other various sources. She would be alright; she just needed to find a place to live on her own and thrive.

A knock tore her from her thoughts, and she turned to the door. “Enter.” In walked Kori and Dick, and she sighed knowingly. “Delivering the parting words?”

“Kiyahnd’r…are you sure you want to leave?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Very.”

They sat down on her bed, a couple feet away, and Dick leaned forward. “You don’t have to leave, (Y/N).”

“I am aware,” she noted. “but this is something that I want to do.”

“Why Kiyahnd’r?”

(Y/N)’s eyes flitted to Kori. “Because this is not where I belong.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N). You—”

She raised a hand. “Do not try and cushion the blow, Richard.” She rose and stared out the window. “It has been plain to see all these years that you all will never trust me.” (Y/N) glanced at Dick. “Or accept me onto your team.”

Dick went silent, and Kori nudged him. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say? She’s kinda right.”

“Dick!”

(Y/N) stopped Kori. “Do not be angry at him, Koriand’r. Richard is right.” She paused. “I am not you Koriand’r…I allow my past to define how I live my life.” Her eyes moved to her sister’s, and a hint of sorrow crossed her tone. “I cannot let go of our pasts. It will haunt me forever, and I need to find my own path…away from this place.”

The two of them went silent, then Dick said, “If you don’t have anywhere to go…Jason’s been in need of a partner lately.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “That moronic imbecile? Certainly not.”

Dick snickered as Kori sighed. “Jason is not stupid, sister.”

“Truly? There have been a few times where he has fooled me.”

Kori sighed again, as Dick rose from the bed, moving to (Y/N). “Look…I know you think I don’t like you—”

“You do not like me.”

Dick rolled his eyes and corrected, “Wrong, Miss Know-It-All. I happen to like you very much. In fact—”

(Y/N) cut him off, turning to Kori. “Be cautious sister, you apparently have competition for Richard’s affections.” Kori and (Y/N) giggled as Dick raised his hands in exasperation.

He marched to the door with them still raised. “I give up! I came in here to wish you goodbye and good luck, and this is what I receive!” He was almost out the door when (Y/N) pulled him back, spinning him around to pull him in for a brief but heartfelt hug.

She pulled away and glanced at him. “For all you have done for me…and for all the times you have tried to help me…thank you, Richard.”

He grinned up at her and squeezed her round her middle. “See…you love me after all.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and picked up her bags. “Do not push it Dick. You still anger me.”

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that.” Dick shrugged.

She snorted and moved to the door, stopping and glancing at them. “And I most certainly will not be the last.”

***

The flight to Gotham City was quiet, and she remembered the first time she arrived.

***

The portal opened and she fell through it, still fighting off the Psions who followed her. They crash-landed into a building, and the rubble was lit up like the sun as she threw star-bolts at them. The fighting lasted for a few minutes, and in the end, she stood victorious among the scattered body parts. Her mind raced as she tried to remember where her sister had gone, and the next thing she realized, a Psion was on her back.

She cursed in her native tongue as it clawed at her, and gathered energy into her palm to kill it when it flew off her, landing a good distance away. She rolled to her side and coughed; a hand appeared in her vision, and she looked up to see a man in black standing over her.

His lips moved, and she knew words were coming out, but it sounded like gibberish. The hand extended towards her more, and she took it, allowing him to help her stand. He kept speaking and she rolled her eyes, reaching out and grabbing his face; she brought their lips together, and words and languages flowed through her mind.

She released him and he simply gaped at her, too stunned to move; she snorted. “Apologies. My race learns by psychophysically connecting with one another. The most effective way is through oral contact.”

“…You just learned to speak English from kissing me?”

She nodded. “Is that what you call it? English? What a strange name it is.” The corner of his mouth rose, and she stood up straight. “I am Kiyahnd’r of…well…it does not matter.” She paused. “My name is Kiyahnd’r.”

He nodded. “I’m Batman.”

***

(Y/N) felt the corners of her mouth raise at the memory; it had been a very long time since she’d thought about it, and it reminded her of how lucky she’d been to learn the languages from Bruce. Kori only received a small amount from Dick; (Y/N) had received twenty-three different dialects, all fluently. The fleeting memories lasted only so long, and the plane began to ascend, signaling her arrival.

She stepped off of the plane and made her way to the baggage claim, picking up her bag and moving to the doors when she saw a familiar man. (Y/N) stared as he walked towards her.

He stopped in front of her and smirked. “Need a ride, doll?”

She rolled her eyes. “Dick called you then.”

“Called a few hours ago saying you were leaving the Titans and coming to find me and Roy.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “I was coming to Gotham. I was not coming to see the both of you.” She glared at him.

“Sticks and stones, (Y/N).”

“Go crawl into a bush, Jason.”

His hand curled around the handle of her suitcase and he lifted it, nodding his head to the door. “Car’s outside.” Jason moved forward, and (Y/N) was left with no choice but to follow him. She watched as he put her suitcase in the trunk, then turned to her. “You hungry?”

“Are you going to cook?”

Jason paused as he was getting in the driver’s door; he looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “Do you want me to cook?”

She moved to sit in the passenger seat. “So long as you make something good.”

He grinned as he sat in the seat, starting the car. “I always make good food.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘hmpf’. “We shall see.”

***

The drive to his apartment was slow and when they arrived, the sun was setting low beyond the skyline. They climbed the stairs and entered his apartment; (Y/N) hummed. “I wasn’t sure that your apartment would be as tidy as it is. It is rather shocking.”

Jason grunted as he moved into the kitchen, pulling out pans from the cabinets. “Sorry doll, the role of messy Robin is Tim.” He paused and glanced at her. “And sometimes, Dick…but mostly Timmy.”

(Y/N) snorted and motioned to her bag. “Where should I put my things?”

Jason nodded down the hallway. “Second door on your right. I changed the sheets and cleaned it, so you should be happy.”

She said nothing and walked to the bedroom. It was a little dull for her tastes, but nothing she couldn’t fix with a trip to the department store and IKEA. She walked back out and sat at the bar, watching Jason cook for them. When he was finished, they sat out on the balcony sharing a bottle of wine.

(Y/N) swallowed it, gagging, “Earth wine is disgusting.”

“Wine’s a peculiar taste,” he snorted, taking a sip. “You have to get used to it.”

She grunted and replied, “I do not want to be used to it. It tastes like…I do not even know what it tastes like. All I know is that it is disgusting.”

“You’re just a Debbie-Downer, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”

“I do not know what that is but I can tell it is not positive.”

“Nevermind.” Jason chuckled and they lapsed into a comfortable silence, eating their dinner, and when they were finished, they climbed to the roof and watched the stars; Jason leaned over. “So, why did you leave the Titans?”

(Y/N) sighed quietly, murmuring, “I did not want to be within their company any longer.”

He eyed her. “And?”

“And I did not want to be ostracized anymore.” (Y/N) inhaled. “I am not Kori. She was accepted easily within the Titans because she is kind and sweet. But I? No…I was never one to be accepted. My attitude and stance on how I deal with criminals was not something the Titans were too keen on keeping.”

Jason listened silently, then tipped his head. “Dick told you to come find me then?”

She shrugged. “More or less.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “I assume he had an inkling that because we are so similar in our mindsets on criminals that we would get along and be able to work together.”

“Red Hood, Arsenal, and Supernova,” Jason grinned. “It’s got a great ring to it.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I regret this decision already.”

He scooted closer and slung an arm around her shoulders, ignoring the way she growled low in her throat. “Don’t be like that, doll…we’re gonna make a kick-ass team.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to retort when a light shone in the sky; she glanced at Jason, tipping her head to it. “Well…let us go and show what a team we will make.” She rose, holding out a hand. “Shall we, Red Hood?”

Jason glanced at her hand before taking it, smirking. “Hell yeah.”

[toastedside]

Banana Toast

Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader

I was reading Super Sons the other day and this particular fic come into my mind right after. Just imagining the talk that come after sneaking out the night fighting Kid Amazo.

You watched Damian stepped out of the car with perpetual scowl on his face. He still wears his full armour Robin suit, with domino mask and all. You and Alfred had just picked him up from the Kent an hour ago after he snuck out for the night, roped Jon into an impromptu dangerous mission.

You suppressed a shiver. You didn’t want to imagine the worst, you had it all before. You were grateful that neither Jon nor Damian had suffered any lethal injuries. Few cuts here and there and probably a bruised shoulder, but nothing lethal.

Lois was livid when three of you had caught them climb up the window towards Jon’s room. You had been too, more so when you found out they were chasing after an Amazo wannabe and provoking Lex Luthor. Lois took all the shouting and scolding role that morning while you went full on injuries inspection and Alfred full on disappointed frown.

This is a mission where any one of them should have called their fathers. Jon argued that he tried to do so, but Damian was against the idea. It did not surprise you a little bit. If anything, you had always known the boy practically bleed for validation.

“In this kind of moment is the moment I truly believe that he is Master Bruce’s son,” Alfred’s voice came from behind. You whipped your head and smiled. “The utter stubbornness they both possess is astounding.”

“And their knack to make me worry is more or less the same.”

You found Damian fresh out of shower almost half an hour later, rummaged through the kitchen cabinet looking for some food. You silently watched him from behind, reading all of his body language from here. You knew he wasn’t exactly sorry about what he did, nor he feels the need to, but he was pretty pissed and awful with the consequence he brought after.

Or the reaction he received from others, for the lack thereof.

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to give me lectures too?” Damian asked without bother to turned around.

“Would you like some banana toast for breakfast?” You simply smiled as you went through the kitchen cabinet to grab some wheat bread.

“Banana toast?”

“Basically, it’s a toast with peanut butter and banana, add chocolate if you feel fancy,” you explained. “It’s a comfort food I invented during my college days. I eat it whenever I feel down or upset. You want some?”

Damian thought for a while. “Yes, please. That sounds good.”

You spent few minutes in silence as you put your comfort food on work. Damian sat behind on the chair watching you solemnly, probably went through hundreds of probable scenarios from this. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that he had always on high alert for a thirteen-year-old.

It gave you some time to think too. A part of you wanted nothing more but to yell to get the point across, but you also recognized that he had taken some blows from Lois before. Yelling to get the point across would be a contra productive thing to do where it would’ve done nothing but push him away further.

You were disappointed, nonetheless. A little betrayed at the fact that he had to snuck out and breach an agreement. And Damian didn’t try to look at you in the eyes, not even when you slid the warm toast towards him. Shame, probably, or guilt, you didn’t know.

“Damian, you do realize that you broke off an agreement with me and your father, right?” You started. Your voice was soft and calm, you tried your best to remain civil.

“I know,” his voice was firm. As if he had prepared for this inevitable conversation.

“May I know why?”

“Father hadn’t let me to go out for patrol with him!” Damian’s voice was thick with disappointment, a dash of anger, but surprisingly he didn’t raise his voice. “I just want to do good out there. I saved a family from their own demise tonight; you can’t blame me for that!”

“You do know exactly why your father didn’t let you go out for patrol with him. You’ve been ditching schools and is five assignments behind.”

“I don’t need school! It’s stupid! I already know the whole thing; I can easily have master degree by age seven!”

“I don’t doubt that a little bit. You’re indeed very smart. You can easily outsmart me and your father, even,” you nodded in acknowledgement. “But we need you to understand that school is not only for your academic learning, there are a lot of things to learn outside just knowing. Including gaining soft skills and build connections too. Befriend with someone your age.”

“I don’t do friends! Besides, isn’t that what superhero groups are? Isn’t me in Teen Titan enough?”

“Emphasize on the ‘someone your age’ a little bit more, darling. Most of the Titans are older than you. You don’t exactly call Starfire someone your age now, do you?” You smiled. “And you do friends. Jon is the living proof.”

Damian scowls a little bit. “We’re not friends.”

“That’s what your father says about Superman at first. Look at them now, attached by the hip if you ask me.”

Damian smiled slightly at that. Or anything that resemble a smile. He quietly munched on his banana toast, silently marveling at the taste and let the information sink in.

“We also need you to understand that your action last night, while outstanding in the field, still have consequences.”

“Am I grounded?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t I already grounded for ditching school?”

“Doesn’t mean you’ll get out of this clean,” you said. Damian groaned. “No patrol for next two weeks, and you’re going to school. Catch up with your assignments.”

“Two weeks?” Damian screeched in protest. “That’s too long! What if–”

“Unless you are needed in the field out of immediate emergency, you are not allowed for patrol otherwise. I know you’re Robin, but you are also my and your father’s son. You live under our roof, and you go with the rules too. We’ve talked about this hundred times already and you were agreeing,” you pointed out. “I trust you, Damian. Your father trust you. And it would mean a lot for us if you able to maintain that. One of the ways is by not sneaking out in the night and fighting bunch of robots with your friend.”

“Right,” Damian muttered slowly, defeated. “I am sorry, Mom.”

“Apology accepted, darling. Now go finish your breakfast and catch some sleep. You can join me in the clinic this afternoon if you want to, you can bring Jon over if his parents allow him to.”

“Can I meet Peanut the clinic dog, then?”

“You can try to train her some tricks you taught Titus if you want to.”

Damian’s spirit seemed to be lifted up by the promise. He eagerly finished his breakfast and went straight to his room, this time to catch some sleep hopefully. You let out a relieved sigh, the conversation went better than you had anticipated. By the look Alfred sent you when you brought the empty plates over, you thought he was agreeing too.

Well, raising bunch of vigilante kids definitely never cross your mind, or even a life you expected to have. But looking back, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[pirates-pirates-pirates]

can you do the marco x ace for the ship game?

My boys, my lads, yes you may have them

Gives nose/forehead kisses Marco is 100% this sort of person. He loves Ace's nose and always kisses it. He's also taller then Ace and likes to lean down and kiss his forehead, he prefers them to kisses on the lips, he can display a range of emotions by these actions. Love, affection, sympathy.

Gets jealous the most They are both pretty laid back but Ace is the one that tends to get jealous. He has that temper still, he grew out of most his anger but that doesn't mean it doesn't still reside in him.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive Marco, he's often the designated driver, Ace goes out with friends and his brothers to drink more often.

Takes care of on sick days Marco always looks after Ace, Ace is a whiny and stubborn patient and Marco has to use his 'boi don't fuck with me' voice to get him to take it easy and let him baby him.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day They BOTH love to do this so there would be no need for one to drag the other. They are 100% the kind of couple that sets up a good space and spends most their time in the water splashing one another.

Gives unprompted massages Marco, he'll see Ace rubbing his neck, arm, back and will know where to and how to touch to make things feel better. Plus he likes excuses to show love an affection.

Drives/rides shotgun They try take it in turns since neither are a fan of the others driving style so they try and mix it up. Marco tends to drive more when the trip is a long one. Better attention span.

Brings the other lunch at work Ace, he likes to bring food to Marco while he works, Marco has a habit of forgetting to eat where as Ace considers lunch a highlight to the working day.

Has the better parental relationship -shuffles papers- I think we both know the answer to that.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer Ace, Ace dances like a drunken stripper and what he thinks is sexy is often an utter mess. That or he dances like he's stuck in a 90s nu-metal band.

Still cries watching Titanic Ace, he'll never admit it and Marco will absolutely call him out on lying.

Firmly believes in couples costumes BOTH they are that couple. It's more Ace though and he will be the one that picks them out. Marco is pretty laid back and just goes with the flow.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas Marco, he can't help it, he makes a good wage and just wants to spoil the younger man.

Makes the other eat breakfast Ace, again it's because Marco can get so wrapped up in things he simply forgets despite being a doctor and having to sell the 'breakfast is the most important meal of the day'

Remembers anniversaries Both are pretty scatter brained when it comes to this.. Marco is often the one that remembers to add it to the calendar, the calendar neither check.

[hangekitty]

I love that Er*n is in your no no rules- lmao.

Also may i request some soft Miche headcanons where he's comforting a female reader please? I've been very stressed from life recently and would really appreciate a bit of love and comfort from my fav character, smut is optional although i am above 18. Thank you so much in advance💛

Oh my gosh my first request thank you! And what a lovely way to start things out, I hope this brings comfort to you as I know how hard things are in life right now! And yes, we don’t accept Er*n in this house no thank you ~ 🌸

Did I listen to Bubble Gum by Clairo on loop because of the vibes? Maybe. Did I get upset writing this because I am touch starved? Also maybe 😌

Miche comforting his S/O after a bad day

Genre: fluff, NSFW 18+

Warnings: mentions of having a bad day, mental health, smut, swearing

Universe: canonverse

NSFW below the ‘read more’

SFW

Although Miche is a man of few words, he definitely knows how to show you how much he cares.

This man is a master of being able to sense whenever you’ve had a bad day, you wouldn’t even need to tell him; I suppose its because of his immaculate sense of smell, or that he takes good care to be finely in tune with your emotions.

Most of your worries and stresses stem from expeditions, having to fight off titans and watching your comrades fall certainly took a toll on your mental health; this at least was a stress you could share with Miche.

Miche’s love language is touch, so although he isn’t much of a talker, he would still want you to know that he is there for you all the same. This may look like hugs from behind, forehead kisses and holding you close to him whenever he can.

If you’re both standing, he will most definitely be the kind of guy to cuddle you and gently rock you - not quite a dance, but something that helps calm you down.

There is 110% chance that if he starts rocking you, he will rest his head on yours and hum a tune to you

Will ask Levi for your favourite kind of tea, another love language of his is acts of service. So bringing you tea, tidying your room or even cleaning your clothes without asking is a way of him showing how much he cares about you; the last thing you want to do is chores so he would run you a bath (if baths are available) and he would do the smaller things that would usually be too much effort.

Just because he is very quiet, doesn’t mean he won’t talk to you. He is more of a listener, but if you need words of affirmation or advice Miche is on it and usually says the right things. All this time of him being quiet, he has every opportunity of thinking up something to say.

Are you prone to nightmares? Miche has your back. Quite literally, he will roll over and hold you close to him. He is definitely the big spoon and will make sure to make you feel as safe and comfortable as possible.

In public, if Miche notices you tensing or begin to fluster out of stress or anger, he will hold your hand. He isn’t much for PDA, however he will push himself in situations where you need him. He would often take you out of a situation or to another room and hold your hands close to his chest, rubbing your hands with his thumbs and looking in your eyes.

Bedtime is the best time for cuddles, here he will give you the maximum affection of kisses, hugs and tickling sessions.

He will stroke your hair until you fall asleep, even if he is in an uncomfortable position, once he knows you are asleep he won’t budge.

Miche has a habit of holding you close to him when you are stressed and smelling your hair or rubbing his stubble on your exposed neck. You can’t help but giggle, even when sometimes you wanna be angry, this man never fails to make you smile.

If you suffer with panic attacks, Miche knows exactly what to do to help you. Whether grounding helps, giving you space or words of affirmations this man has it together and will do whatever he can to help. At first he might of been a nervous wreck, anxious to make sure he gets it right, but as you trust him, you tell him how he can help in that situation and Miche learns it and etches it into his brain.

“There’s my girl”

Bunny kisses! Lots of bunny kisses!

Random modern day AU head canon: this dude would turn on his LED lights and put on soft LoFi tunes on to calm you down!

NSFW

Sometimes when you are stressed, you require other means of ‘letting go’

Miche knows exactly what to do, but will wait for your social queues to make the first move

It’ll start off as giving you massages, touching you in all of your sensitive, aching areas.

You will most likely make some remarks that are passive aggressive (and suggestive) which makes Miche kinda /ZING/

He is the kind of guy who would come up behind you and lift your breasts up and claim “these are heavy, let me help you carry them” or some shit, even though you are clearly frustrated, this usually earns an annoyed giggle or two.

He will let you take control, if you have a particularly stressful day and all you want to do is have angry sex, he will let you take the reins or call all the shots. Honestly, any other time he would let you take control anyway, seeing you be so passionate is a real turn on; but given such a stressful day its sort of expected - unless you just want him to fuck you silly, he will happily oblige.

I don’t care what anyone else says but this man is canon a master of oral. With a nose like that, you could not convince me he wouldn’t use it to his full advantage okay??

He is more a giver than a receiver, so Miche would be in his personal heaven whilst giving you head. He particularly likes it when you’ve had a bad day to surprise you and lower you onto his face, you will probably squirm out of embarrassment but as soon as you’d gain your confidence he would go in hard; enjoying every bit of view he has.

If you are feeling particularly low due to a bad day, he will set up the bed with lots of pillows/blankets and have you lay down, legs open and him laying between them, licking at your pussy.

Miche is a thigh guy, a man of taste. Will leave kisses up and around your thighs before going anywhere near your pussy. He probably enjoys the smell whilst he’s down there, admiring your soft flesh and kissing every inch of you.

If you want to be in control, lets say you have a frustrating day, you would ride him. Heck, he wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to peg him. This man is up for anything and would do anything to please you.

If you want him to be in control, you’ve definitely unleashed an animal. As I’ve mentioned before, he is a giver and if he knows you’ve had a bad day, oh boy this man will do all he can to help you forget your troubles. Rough but steady is his strategy.

I promise you after a night with him in control, you won’t even remember what stress feels like.

Expect some marks, this man is a sucker and a nibbler, especially on your neck and breasts.

King of aftercare, lots of hugs and kisses; will also clean you up after any messes made.

If Miche is not a man of many words, he has them all for you in that moment. Telling you he loves you, how much you mean to him and how sorry he is that you had a bad day. “Today might have been hard, but tomorrow is another day my love”

“I’ll be right here”

I hope you enjoyed! Thanks so much for the request 🌸

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter fifteen

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1663

Monotonous.

That was the best word you could come up with to describe the past week. The days lulled on without change as you unfortunately pined after Levi, who still seemed to pay you no mind -- but today would be different. You had formed a hypothesis. It was lofty, optimistic guesswork with no actual backing, but it was a hypothesis nonetheless. If  you placed the right kind of pressure on Levi, then he would admit exactly what you wanted to hear. Your sadness about the situation, as melancholy typically does, had turned to spiteful anger; you needed to prove him wrong. Even if it amounted to nothing, even if you were left with sadness yet again.

"You want me to what?" Jean asked you in a whisper, face drawn up in disgust. You laughed at him before retraining your eyes on the back of Levi's head. His hair had been cut recently. It looked nice.

"Come on, Jean. It won't be that bad. It's just for a few days at most. I'll hate it just as much as you will. It's a game," you replied just as quietly. Despite his protests, you knew it wouldn't take too much convincing. He cared about you too much to tell you no. You gave him your most sincere puppy-dog eyes, watching the disgust on his face morph to a mix of disappointment and amusement. Score.

"I'll do it," he conceded, laying his forehead in his palm. You knew it wouldn't take much effort. Your plan, albeit a little childish, was what you had deemed a sure-fire experiment to test your hypothesis. Hange would be proud.

Levi, as careless as he may seem, irrefutably had anger as his foremost emotion. He was quick to it, and he wore it well. With such constant anger came many things: a gentle side well-contrasted by the rough exterior that ruled others' perception -- proven true; a likely mix of mood swings and impulsivity -- also relatively evident; and, most importantly, a tendency toward jealousy -- completely unproven but heavily suspected. You relied on that suspicion to make sense of the mixed signals he had given you.

You'd been considering it for days; after a while, you grew weary of being ignored. It beat down on you like a rain shower, leaving you to helplessly question the meanings of fleeting moments within the confines of the infirmary. Being unsure was decidedly the worst part. An explicit yes-or-no answer was annoyingly required to calm your racing mind -- accepting his words at face value was impossible.

You followed the outline of his jaw with your eyes as he spoke to Hange, who was sitting at his side. He always looked so well put together. You fantasized about his hair in disarray and his clothes hanging loose -- how he looked on the morning after the night you spent together. You had long grown past embarrassment; every self-pitying thought soon became validating as the nights in the infirmary consolidated into your definition of Levi. You were sure, entirely, that this newfound attitude towards you was all for show. Otherwise, how could someone so callous become so gentle?

His collected gaze was aimed anywhere that wasn't at you. Jean's stories of certain stolen glances when you weren't looking were enough to assure you that he wasn't as unbothered as he seemed. Sometimes you wished you could catch his eye just to send him a soft smile -- to remind him that the two of you weren't just unreasonably disliked acquaintances. You were almost tired of being mad at him; unfortunately for him, however, you were quick to anger, too.

When you were dismissed to training, you weren't slow to get up. You tossed your tray atop the stack of others and made your way out the door, other scouts surrounding you to form a crowd. Jean put his arm around you when you found yourself outside the door; but, instead of swinging it casually around your shoulders, he slid it snugly around your waist. You watched as he shook his head, eyes rolling so hard you were sure they'd come out of their sockets.

When you looked back, you swore for a moment that you met a pair of narrowed grey eyes.

---

The training exercise was your least favorite of them all: the insufferable wooden-titan practice you'd done a month or so before. You fell in line with the rest of your comrades, your gaze traveling to Levi's stance atop a tree branch. He was leading this exercise, and although it was better for your experiment, it was hard to ignore how hard he had been on you. Slack didn't seem to be in his vocabulary. You wanted to do well.

You all lied in wait for his go-ahead, your hands positioned over the triggers on your gear. It would be your first time using ODM again; luckily, legs weren't really necessary. You looked forward at the back of Bertholdt's head, knowing Jean stood a few feet behind you. Last time you finished -- third? Maybe second? You were confident you could do it again.

You saw Levi travel towards the middle of the group of trees for a better view. "Alright," he called, several yards away. "Go."

It only took a few seconds to realize you were rusty when you fell to the middle of the group. Jean had already passed you, along with Connie and Sasha. Nearly a month out of training had done more damage than you thought. You fought to stay ahead of the curve, your eyes failing you to glance at Levi's disappointed face. You made eye contact for a split second, your chest swelling against your will. A lift of his eyebrow forced your line of sight forward as you narrowly missed a tree branch. He scoffed, loud enough for you to hear him. How embarrassing.

Whether by luck or underestimation, you were surprised that several scouts remained in the exercise when you landed. Levi had moved towards the edge of the trees now, so you could still see him from your place in the grass. You wondered if he knew, and if he had glanced your way, too. Your plan relied on the fact that he had and would again.

You waltzed to where Jean stood, away from the others and sipping from his canteen. You slid your hand into his, fingers interlocking as he gagged playfully. "Your hands are sweaty," he said, discomfort clear in his tone.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Yours just feel greasy. Have you washed them recently?" The two of you continued joking back and forth as your eyes darted over your shoulder at Levi. You told yourself that acting as if you didn't even notice him would be the best way to go; it was difficult, though. You wanted to gauge every reaction as clearly as you could -- that's how experiments work, right?

You caught him staring for the very first time. When you met his eyes, his gaze did not falter. He simply lowered one eyebrow inconspicuously. You looked away as quickly as you could to hide the triumphant grin spreading across your face; he had seen, and he didn't look happy. The experiment, though, was not yet complete. You wanted more.

As the last few scouts landed, you and Jean took a seat, hands still interlocked in the clammiest, most uncomfortable form of physical affection you had experienced to date. To make matters worse, you decided to lay your head snugly in the slope from his neck to his shoulder. Of course, you and Jean were not strangers to physical affection, as most close friends weren't. Nonetheless, the connotation behind the prolonged hand-holding and casually romantic cuddling was uncomfortable at best. You were lucky he couldn't tell you no. Another strike of luck was that everyone was used to seeing the two of you close and comfortable, and it would be difficult to anyone not intently watching to notice a difference; were there any downsides to having a male best friend?

"Is he looking?" you whispered nudging Jean with your shoulder.

"I don't know," he whispered back, "I'm facing the same way as you."

You snorted. "No shit. Just look around. Don't make it obvious."

You felt his head turning, looking both ways out at the scouts that surrounded you. "Okay, yeah. He's looking. He didn't even look away when he saw me. He looks pissed."

You smiled. Your hypothesis was not far from being proven true; you just needed another push. "You're not going to want to do this," you told Jean, trying to hide the mischievous grin overtaking your face.

"I'm not doing it. No way."

"Jean, please!"

"Nope. Not happening."

"It'll only last a second," you said in the most convincing tone you could muster.

"This is a stupid plan," he answered, a sigh of concession building in his lungs. You had won, yet again.

"Just kiss me. Fuck, it's only once."

And so he did. He tasted like the disgusting soup you had eaten for lunch. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but you were subject to the time-slowing force that only came from ecstasy and torture. This time, it was the torture kind. When he pulled away, you forced a grin for show. Through your teeth, you said, "I think that was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Ever."

He laughed, squeezing your hand. "It couldn't have been worse than what just happened to me. Remind me to wash out my mouth with soap later." You looked over your shoulder to see Levi still staring, his jaw set in anger. What could be more satisfying?

When you were all dismissed from the exercise, you were sure to walk slowly as you and Jean swung your conjoined hands back and forth. Surely real couples don't hold hands this long, you thought; this much sweat can't be comfortable. Before you saw him, you heard Levi's voice at your side.

"Get cleaned up and get to my office. I need a word with you."

Had it really been this easy the whole time?

[justpevensies]

Second Fiddle

Blurb: Edmund is not settling for second best any longer.

Warnings: mostly a slightly jealous Edmund - there’s a little bit of anger and some angst in there too but nothing too extreme.

It was when Edmund entered into Cair Paravel after going for an afternoon ride in the woods that he saw you. 

Stood in the great hall, you were laughing; oh how your smile and laugh made his heart race. However, as he looked closer he could see the reason for your laughter. You were talking to Peter.

Smiles across both of your faces, he instantly knew that Peter would be wooing you with his flattering jokes and his irresistable compliments. The young, golden haired king was working his boyish charms. 

Just looking at it made Edmund’s stomach turn and instantly he felt compelled to put an end to it.

“(Y/N)!” He called over, trying to hide his inner feelings. Instantly you turned around and ran to him, beaming “Ed!” Sweeping you off your feet, he wrapped you in a welcoming embrace and for that brief moment all of his worries melted away. You were in his arms and you were loving him, there was no one else.

The two of you chatted for a little moment before you giggled. “You came back just in time” you smiled, unaware of Edmund’s previous thoughts. “Peter was just telling me some of his favourite stories”. You looked over your shoulder and grinned up to the magnificent High King. 

“I must say Edmund, she tolerates me much more than you” Peter chuckled, admiring the couple stood before him. Although Peter meant no harm by it, that sentence was the final straw.

Edmund’s throat went dry, he could feel a cold shiver sliding down his spine. As a result, he tightened his grip on your waist - rather unaware that he was doing so. Determined to divert the situation, he abruptly said: “That’s nice to know” before looking at you directly and grabbing your hand. “(Y/N) ought we not to prepare for dinner?”

Before you could even say farewell to Peter, you were whisked away.

~

As the week went on, Edmund began to get more and more paranoid. He slowly became increasingly terrified to leave you alone in case he would come back and you’d be with Peter. He hadn’t let it show very much, only in extreme circumstances would that deep part of him ever become public.

“She tolerates me much better than you”. Those words echoed in his mind, he lived in it every day. His reality was a true, living nightmare.

You had began to notice Edmund was acting a lot more protective and close than normal; holding your hand and cuddling you close to him at every oppurtunity, particularly in front of people. While he would normally show subtle affection in public, it was unusual for it to be this common. However, he hadn’t done anything too out-of-the-ordinary so you didn’t mind it too much. Besides, what’s not to love about your significant other being so generous in front of everyone?

Nothing was really said - well, nothing was too unusual - until it came to a council meeting one evening. While discussing a trade deal, a heated argument arose and it didn’t take too long before the 4 Kings and Queens were snapping at one another left, right and centre. Each were proposing different ideas on how to handle the situation but soon it came down to a final two solutions and the argument evolved into who sided with who. Who had final say? Who made the best decision?

When things got too out of hand among the siblings, it was your role within the council to step in and calm things down, everyone respected how calm you could remain in those situations and, therefore, would listen to you.

The clash of titans unfolding in front of you was between Peter and Edmund. As a royal advisor, almost everyone was looking to you for guidance and it was your job to consider all options before deciding finally where you stood on the matter.

You listened to both Kings preach their proposal to you. 

Edmund’s seemed logical but slightly radical, whereas Peter’s seemed safe but potentially less likely to work. You felt like you were stood at a split road - do you go with the reasonable idea or do you go with your heart?  Almost everyone, currently, was siding with Peter so if you supported Edmund it would certainly shift the views on the table.  There was a silence as the Pevensie brothers waited for your answer.

“(Y/N)?” Edmund looked to you, his eyes pleading and desperately seeking someone to back him up.

You felt torn and normally you would side with Ed, his ideas were always more like yours and you never doubted his wisdom, plans or knowledge. However, this time it felt better to go with the majority vote.

You looked up at Peter and then turned to Edmund with regret and sorrow in your face. You let out a sigh and Ed didn’t even need you to say anything to know what was coming next. “I’m sorry Ed, but I have to go with Peter for once”. 

Edmund’s eyes filled with disappointment and before anyone could say anything, he turned and walked out. As soon as his back turned, tears began to fall freely down his cheeks. Not even excusing yourself you raced after him calling (and eventually shouting) his name. 

He quickened pace, not looking back once, until he got to upstairs to his chambers. 

~

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” You demanded after - accidentally - slamming Edmund’s chamber door closed.

He turned to face you with a rather affronted face and he tried to find words. You looked at him, arms folded, searching for answers. Normally Edmund would tell you exactly how he was feeling if something was angering him but, right now, you couldn’t see any clues in his expression. Edmund began to raise his hands, mumbling out his thoughts before he finally spat out:

“I’m just trying!” 

Confused, and rather frustrated at his blunt reply, you immediately responded: “What?”

“I’m just trying... my best” Edmund repeated before affirming those last two words. 

Neither of you moved but Edmund’s stare was so dark and piercing. You could see his contained rage flickering inside him. Slowly your heartbeat began to calm but the tension felt very much the same.

“I heard you first time, but what do you mean?” You asked.

Edmund scoffed before turning away. “What do you care? I thought you only cared about Peter”. 

That last word - Peter’s name - hit you like a punch. That’s what this was about? Peter? 

“Pet-”

“Yes! Peter!” 

Edmund said his brother’s name as if it was profanity. His face was just completely begrudged, he certainly wasn’t hiding emotions anymore.

“I try everyday to be the perfect person, the one you would want me to be. A good king who can make decisions and rule justly; a good lover, one who can make you happy and be affectionate all of the time; I’m trying to be my best self but it’s not good enough! It’s never good enough!”

You could fear your heart beginning to shatter and as you went to speak Edmund carried on.

“I’m tired of playing second fiddle! It’s always been Peter! He gets to be High King, he can lead, he is always first for everything: firstborn, first in achievements, first for... love.” Edmund began to pour out, hesitating before his voice cracked. At that he turned away, self-conscious. His heart began to pound and while you were still stood in your original position, you could tell by his breathing and body language what was going on.

“First it was our mother, then Susan and Lucy, and now it’s you! He is everyone’s first love”. 

You didn’t know what to say - how Edmund could believe that you would leave him, let alone leave him for his brother, was beyond you. 

You stepped forward and reached out your hand, resting it on his shoulder blade and he flinched under your touch. He wasn’t expecting it and part of him didn’t believe it was your touch, it felt more like a dream in his head. At that you began to rub his back and you placed your other hand on his shoulder blade as you leaned against his tunic. 

“Did you really think I was in love with Peter?” You whispered.

You looked up at Edmund before he bowed his head down in defeat. His eyes were closed as tightly as possible as he nodded his head. You could see his heartbreak, his desperation and, at that, you wrapped your arms around his whole body, placing kisses on his back.

“Oh Ed” you whispered as tears began to fall, staining his clothes. “Oh Ed you have no idea”. Edmund straightened back up, still not looking at you and you began to speak.

“I do love Peter, you know I do... like a brother. I couldn’t love him in the way I do for you. Edmund Pevensie, you have cared, treated and respected me in a way no one else had. You were the first person here who made me laugh, long before Peter did”.

Edmund faintly smiled as he remembered that moment, several days after you arrived in Narnia. It was then that he first fell for you.

“Everything you’ve done for me has never failed to impact me because having someone love me the way you have everyday has made me feel special. I’ve always felt like you’ve put me first and so I instantly felt obliged to do the same. I have done ever since we got together. Oh Ed, you’re so worth it - you’re worth being my first every moment”. 

Edmund didn’t know what to say because no one had ever shown such priority and favour for him like that before. There was a silence before you boldly said: “Aslan believed you were worth it”. 

At that, he turned to face you. His face wasn’t full of doom or despair anymore, you could see a look of pride and joy beginning to form. You were right - Aslan had given him his life, he had redeemed him and made him the person he was today. Aslan had given him new life and reminded him that he was worth everything no matter anything that had occured before for his life was worth just as much as anyone else’s.

You looked into Edmund’s eyes before cupping his cheeks in your hands. You finished off your sentence in a low whisper: “And so do I.”

Edmund saw right there that there was no doubt about your love, you had always been his first and he could see how much love you had in return. He leaned in and kissed you as if it were the first time he’d kissed you. 

He knew from now on that you’d never let him forget his worth.

[pink-bird-30]

Missing Moment

Okay, I've been sorta fed up with Titans not giving us these in between scenes where Kori and Dick interact and they find out things about each other.  So I decided to write a missing moment that would have happened in 3x06.

(I don't think this story has spoilers, but I guess read at your own risk if you haven't seen 3x06)

You can find the full story here at my FF.Net

As always, happy reading!

---------------

It’d been a rough couple of days. Between Hank blowing up and Dawn leaving for Paris….things were not the same. Kori often finds herself in the kitchen cleaning whatever nonexistent dishes were in the sink, taking the time to focus on something she can control.

Kom was here, that was a new development. And Dick was not happy about that.

Kori scoffs as she tosses the soaked sponge back into the sink and grabs the blue dish rag on the counter, drying her hands. Deep in her thoughts, she missed the lithe steps coming from down the hall.

“Hey.” She jumps slightly, caught off guard at Dick’s sudden presence. She looks up at the black clock on the wall.

1AM.

She tosses the rag on the counter and brushes past him to the living area, not wanting to hear what he had to say to her about Kom. She has to deal with her shit and he has his to deal with, and by the looks of the time, she figures he may have “figured out” his issues with Barbara given the late hour, but she won’t let her mind drift there.

He sighs, “Kori-“

She turns, giving him a sharp look. Her green eyes slightly flash bright, “What? More judgements, Grayson?”

His thick brows furrow in confusion before relaxing in understanding, “Look, I was being-“

“A dick.” She cuts him off, a smile gracing her lips.

Dick rolls his eyes at the comment, nearly hearing it more than he’d care to admit. But he couldn’t help the laugh that leaves his chest.

How does she do that?

“Sure, whatever. I was rude and didn’t respect you when you told me something was going on and I’m sorry.”

Kori’s eye widen, “Wow, Dick Grayson is apologizing.”

He bashfully grins. “It’s known to happen on occasion.”

Kori arches her brow at him and shakes her head, causing her curls to flutter at her shoulders. She doesn’t miss how Dick looks at her, but she pushes that light feeling down.

Not yet.

He walks over to the fridge and pulls out two beers, “Here.” He slides one across the counter, she catches it gracefully and pops the cap with her thumb as she watches Dick reach for the bottle opener on the fridge.

They take their drinks to the living area and settle on the sofa. They didn’t speak for a few moments, just savoring the few silent beats near the raging fire. Kori noticed Gotham was a very cold place. Hardly any sun during the day and the night a deep shadow of darkness. No wonder no one goes out at night.

“When I first came to Wayne Manor, I tried every way I could to leave.” Dick started. His beer rolling between his hands, peeling at the red label. Kori noticed this as a nervous tick of Dick’s, always fiddling with his batons or scratching the back of his neck. Whatever he was going to say, it was in confidence to her.

“Being back her has been…” he takes a swing of his drink. “It’s been tough. I feel myself reverting back to who I was before I left. Back to the guy who goes off on his own and acts like-like”

“Like Batman.”

He looks over at her and nods, “Yeah.”

“You know you’re not him, right?”

“Hm.” He doesn’t seem to believe her.

Kori leans forward, her thigh brushing against his lightly, “Listen to me. You are not him. Okay? You’re Dick Grayson, leader of the Titans. Sure, you have your flaws-”

“Hey!” his face brightens up at the jab.

“But you’re you. No one can take that.” She sips at her beer and settles back against the couch. “Besides, I think you’d look ridiculous in the Bat-suit.”

Dick lets out a hearty laugh making Kori smile.

He should laugh more.

He stares at her for a moment, his dark eyes gazing at her. She knows that look, it takes her back to the last time they were alone like this.

But now isn’t the time.

She clears her throat, breaking his gaze to stare into the fire lighting the room.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Kor.” She wasn’t expecting him to bring it up, hell she hoped she could chug the rest of her beer before having to continue this conversation.

She shrugs her shoulders, “I don’t really know how I feel about it right now.” It was her turn to distract herself from the inevitable. She lets her long fingers tangle in her curls, wrapping and unwrapping them from her fingers. She hadn’t seen her parents for a few years now. And even if she had, she doesn’t remember. Her memories have come back randomly, but not completely. If anything, it makes her feel even worse. Not remembering the last time she saw them.

She first feels the couch dip next to her and then Dick’s warm, callous hand wrap around hers, pulling it free from her hair. He rests their clasped hands on his leg, his thumb running slowing over her knuckles.

“Hey,” he tilts his head slightly, giving her that typical soft Dick Grayson look. The same look he gave her when they decided to figure themselves out first before seeing what this could be. It breaks a small part of her, not meaning to, but a small tear falls down her cheek. Dick, being who he is, wipes it away without thought.

Kori takes a deep breath and close her eyes, letting herself feel comforted. Usually she’d just suck it up and be a tough bitch. But after a while…it builds up.

She lets her head rest on his shoulder, taking whatever comfort he’s offering.

“Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Who were you before this, before Wayne Manor?” she feels his hand tighten in hers. She can feel him contemplating what to say. She didn’t expect him to tell her everything, but she would like to know him better.

“It’s-it’s complicated.” He sighs, the rush of air moving through him.

“Then uncomplicate it.”

He shakes his head grinning slightly, “You’re a pushy person, you know that?”

“Stop stalling, Grayson.” She looks up at him seeing his eyes brighten looking down at her and then looks towards the fire place. But then his eyes became clouded, like he was preparing for something horrible to happen.

“When I was a kid, my parents and I were part of the circus. Hayley’s Circus. We’d travel from city to city preforming all over…” his eyes glazed slightly, watching the fire intently. Kori lets her free hand settle on his heart, letting him know she’s there.

It was enough to help him keep going, “We were called ‘The Flying Graysons’. Our act was the main attraction because we wouldn’t use a safety net…” Dick takes another sip of his nearly empty beer and sets it on the side table.

“Our first night here, in Gotham, a mob boss named Tony Zucco threated Mr. Haly to hire protection while the circus was in town, but refused. Later on during our act…” Dick stops, needing a moment before continuing. “Zucco hired someone to tamper with the trapeze ropes, so when it came to my parents swinging towards me, they fell.”

“Oh, Dick…” Kori’s heart never felt so broken. She could feel Dick tighten his hand around hers, holding on to whatever life line he had here in the present, while working through his troubled past. She could feel his heartbeat fast under her hand. His face was impassive, solely focused on the light of the fire, but his body was reacting for him.

He seemed to come back to himself after a moment, closing his eyes and opening them again to peer down at her. “I was angry for a while after, but then Bruce showed me how to transform that anger into something else. But it took me a few years to realize he turned me into a weapon.”

Kori nods in understanding, not trusting her voice to say much.

“But after I left Gotham, went to Detroit to start over. I hadn’t changed much. I was still doing the same shit just in a different city. But when Rachel came along things changed. I felt myself change. I think I actually had hope things might get better again.

“And they were. Well, besides all the Trigon bullshit and Slade. I think things have been good.”

“Until you came back to Gotham.” Kori added. Dick nods in agreement.

“Yeah, before I came back here and fell back into old habits.”

“You mean going off on your own, finding old friends to fight with and getting shot at? Yeah, sounds about right.” She grins at him, lightening the mood.

“Yeah, that’s me.” His face changed again. Kori is surprised that someone that is well trained to be impassive, he shows all his emotions through his eyes.

“And you?” he asks. Kori looks at him questioningly. “What’s going on with you and Kom?”

Kori scoffs, “Trust me you do not want to know that mess.”

“Try me.”

She contemplates it for a moment, trying to figure out where to start.

“Well…um…” she huffs in frustration. “Listen, the relationship between me and Kom has always been strained. She always had issues following the rules and listening to our parents. It often led her to getting in trouble all the time. She’s my older sister and she always had to rebel.

“As for me, I followed the rules. I did what was expected of me and since I’m-“ Kori stops, realizing she was about to tell Dick she’s a princess, technically a “queen” of Tamaran. But she keeps it to herself.

“I’m just not sure her true intentions here, but I also couldn’t leave her down there with the scientists for the rest of her life. It wasn’t right.”

Dick nods in understanding, “What do you think she’s up to?”

“I have no idea, but I hope she’s changed.” Kori knew it was foolish to believe that, but part of her wants her sister to be better, to do better.

“For the team’s sake, I hope so too. We can’t have a possible threat living with us.” Kori rolls her eyes and untangles herself from Dick’s side, letting go of his hand in the process. She can already feel the cold feeling of loneliness creeping in already, but she shakes it off.

“I should head to bed.”

Dick runs his hand through his hair and stands up, “Shit—Kori, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“Yes, you did. And you’re right. We have to be careful.”

She turns to leave the room, but not before glancing back one last time. “Thank you for telling me about your past.”

Dick grins in return, watching as Kori ascends up the stairs to her room.

Part of him wants to follow her, missing the warmth he knows she can provide. A warmth the deepest parts of himself remembers all too well. But he shakes himself from the thought and tips back his beer for one last sip before heading to bed.

[sylleblosscm]

   I honestly can’t stop thinking about Ravus’ letters to Luna. They’re all really interesting but the most fascinating one to me is the third one, which is this:

Rely upon the Altissians if you must, and cease all contact with the empire. If you seek a covenant, you know full well the cost. Should Noctis succeed in claiming the power, I shall gladly restore his father's sword to him.

 This isn’t the first time he’s undermined the Empire in his letters, kind of implying that Luna always knew or figured out his true motivation for joining them. (Which itself is very blatant - he’s just using the Empire’s resources to try and protect his sister.) Nevertheless, she still disapproves to some degree as, in his first letter which was sent before the covenant with Titan, Ravus tries to order her home and clearly she either doesn’t go or immediately returns to Lucis because she ultimately finds Ramuh next. Unless this is the game’s way of telling us that Luna had an escort to see the Fulgarian, which would have been cool and I just want to know more about what the siblings were doing during this time. 

 Also, while playing Pocket Edition, I noticed some dialogue that either isn’t in the main game or I’ve somehow missed it thus far, where it’s explicitly pointed out that, even though Altissia is under Imperial rule, the citizenry still stands by House Fleuret; and there are NPCs who talk about both Luna and Ravus in very affectionate, compassionate terms. One I can think of off the top of my head even implying that the popular belief - much like how, in the main game, we hear that people believe strongly that Luna is being forced to work alongside the Empire and only wants freedom - is that Ravus, also, has been coerced into his role. Pocket Edition also repeats a line from the main game where an NPC talks about Ravus staring at the place Luna was supposed to be married and looking all sad - and as we see in both the letter and the final chronological cutscene of the siblings, Ravus is well aware that the covenant will cost Luna her life. 

 Finally, it’s interesting to me how the second letter - set after Noctis receives Ramuh’s blessing - and the third have totally opposite attitudes toward Noctis. In the second Ravus is just as dismissive as ever, but here, he vows to pass on the sword, which he ultimately does posthumously after his very very very sad death scene tucked away in V2. This shift in Ravus’ attitude is kind of hinted at in game, where Luna asks him to fulfill her calling and, rather than take the ring and never hand it over or try to talk her out of it, he is encouraging. He has a lot of anger at the Lucian royals for what happened to his mother, and moreover, he views Noctis as symbolic of everything his sister has had to sacrifice, so imho his kinder opinion of Noct towards the end of his life is an act of compassion for the sister he knows he’s about to lose and a part of the grief he’s experiencing after having fought so hard for nothing, rather than an indication that he’s actually recognised Noctis’ true nature, or that Noctis has done anything to prove himself to Ravus. At least, at first. It would have been interesting to see this realisation play out fully for Ravus and actually oberserve how, even though he fights for his sister until the very end, by the time Altissia comes around he knows he’s fighting in vain as he’s had to slowly realise that nothing he can do will save her.

 There’s just so much to be said about the Fleuret siblings tbh. How Ravus’ dossier is under Niflheim and not Tenebrae because he gave up literally everything, even his identity, to try and save Luna. How Luna will argue with him about his life choices, but refuse to talk badly about him behind his back. The “Your sister wanted you to see a future as well. Anyone would wish the same for the family they love.” line in KG. Ravus’ entire speech after she dies, and Luna��s final act toward him being to smile, just like it had been for Noctis. I guess, moral of the story: no one touch me I’m weak.

[dionnaea]

Promises

pairing: kenny ackerman x reader (platonic), slight levi x reader

warnings: angst, character death, mild swearing

wc: 4.4k

a/n: so, so sorry this took so long!! i decided to combine these two requests and change them up a little, so i hope that’s okay! i’m really proud of this piece, so i hope you all enjoy it, too. xx

side note: technically this is a sequel to my other fic Pot Meet Kettle but it’s not entirely necessary to read that first.

requests:

Your writing’s so good I’m cryin’... Also, I’d LOVE to see what you have in mind for Kenny and Reader’s background! 👀 Were they both underground? was Reader already in the Corps when they met?? did she learn how to punch creeps from Kenny?? Plus I’m very curious about what he meant by her fixing broken hearts!

could you do a part 2 to the pot meet kettle levi fic? i really loved it and i think it would be cool if you could write a part 2 based off the kenny vs levi scene in season 3? like maybe kenny sees the reader and he's like good to see you again and levi is like mf what idk im not creative :(( sorry if this isn't enough

attack on titan masterlist | general masterlist

After Rod Reiss had been taken down, the scouts were sent to search the ruined fields for survivors. It was unlikely that any were left, but Erwin was adamant that no soldier would be left behind. You respected him for that, and went on your way to do your job. 

As you wandered, you ran into a returning scout, someone you didn’t know the name of but were sure had been paired with the Captain for this mission. His head was down as he walked, like there was something he had seen that he shouldn’t have, and your mind began to fill with worries for Levi. Had something happened? 

Making your steps slightly heavier in the grass so that he would notice you, the man finally looked up, quickly saluting to his superior. You brushed him off, instead getting down to business. 

“Where’s Captain Levi, cadet?” 

The man’s eyes darted away from your own before he answered. “Taking care of something, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow in suspicion at the soldier’s weary tone. “Oh? And what is he taking care of, might I ask?” Everything about this seemed peculiar, and you weren’t having it. 

“I don’t know. Something… personal.” When he finally met your gaze, he relented, sacrificing the Captain’s privacy for his own sake, too scared to see what your reaction would be if he kept playing coy. “He’s that way, by the big oak tree,” he stated, pointing in the direction he came. 

You squinted, making out the shadow of the tree in the setting sun. You dismissed the cadet, and quickly made your way towards Levi, his body becoming clearer as you approached. Once you were a reasonable distance away, you called out, but were met with silence. As your worry grew, you moved faster, only stopping when you realized what was going on. 

Levi was kneeling, his body covering the person in front of him. It didn’t matter, you’d recognize those spurs anywhere. 

“Kenny?” The name was uttered in disbelief, and as you stepped around Levi, your eyes grew wide with fear. “Kenny!” 

Immediately, you jumped into action, your scout training taking hold of your body as you knelt by your friend. Your hands hovered over his burnt and bloodied body, not knowing where to start but ignoring the possibility that it was too late. “How… How do I help you? I-I don’t know what to do.” Your eyes were tearing up, and your breathing was getting ragged as you struggled to find some solution. “Please, Kenny, tell me how to help!” 

“Kitten…” His voice was rough as he spoke, his usual tones of confidence and charisma gone. You met his half-closed eyes with your wet ones, begging for him to give you some answer, some, any sort of reassurance that things would be alright. 

“Please,” you pleaded. You had never sounded this pitiful in your life, but you didn’t care, and as his shaking hand grabbed your own, a sob wracked your body. “Kenny, please. Please stay.” You couldn’t help, you knew that, but you hoped for once in his life he would listen to you. 

His eyes began to shut, and his voice fell to a whisper as he said, “Stay safe, kitten.” With a barely there squeeze of your hand, his body went limp, his hand dropping from your grasp.  

You stared in silence, shock overtaking you for a moment. But then, all you felt was anger. “No. No! You promised!” You were yelling at this point, fist reaching out to bang on Kenny’s chest in retaliation. A strong grip on your wrist stopped you, but you weren’t done. As if he could read your mind, Levi wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you back from the now dead man. You were screeching obscenities at both Kenny and Levi as you struggled to break free. Soon, your screams turned into sobs, and as you fell limp into Levi’s arms, you let out one last whimper, a last cry for help. “You promised.”

Later that night, as you pulled a camisole over your head, a knock sounded on your quarters’ door. Truthfully, you had absolutely no desire to talk to anyone. You had had a long day, you had just changed into your pajamas, and you weren’t in the mood to join your fellow soldiers in celebration. Still, you pulled the door open a few inches, hoping it would be someone you could easily send away. To your surprise, Levi stood outside dressed in plain clothes and hair wet from what you presumed was a shower. Even more surprising was the newly formed bruise on his cheekbone. The reddish-purple mark stood out against his normally flawless skin, and you found yourself staring, only Levi’s sharp voice bringing you back to reality. 

“You did that, you know,” he commented with a blank face. 

“What?” You opened the door a bit more, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

His left eyebrow cocked up just barely. “When you went berserk earlier. Before I managed to snag both of your wrists,” he explained. He reached up a hand to brush against his cheek. “Damn, you hit hard.” 

You weren’t sure, but the tone in the man’s voice made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to cheer you up. Against your will, the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest bit. “Did you expect anything less?” You quipped, wondering what his answer might be. 

“No.” He shrugged. “Just surprised it took you this long to punch me in the face.” 

At that, you let out a laugh. It was true, the man had managed to push every single one of your buttons during his time with the Scouting Regiment. The two of you were in constant conflict, arguments over the smallest things popping up out of nowhere. At some point, Erwin had decided that Mike would be the babysitter of you two, keeping you both in line during training and even more so during squad leader meetings. You started to smile at the memory, but when you remembered that Mike, like so many of the others you loved, was dead, your expression fell. 

Moving your eyes to stare down at the uneven floorboards, you spoke quietly, but sincerely, “I’m sorry.” 

Levi knew you weren’t just apologizing for hitting him but for everything, and as he studied your face, he made a decision. “Do you want some tea? I keep a special brand in my room.” It was the only thing he had to offer, and both you and him knew it. 

You froze as you tried to figure out the best course of action. Follow the Captain to his room or mope around alone until you cry yourself to sleep? In the end, it was an easy choice. Still, your heart stuttered in your chest while you gained your composure. You took a breath before responding, “Um, sure.” 

There was a beat of silence, as if the two of you were readying yourself to take on some new, mysterious foe. And in a way, you supposed, you were. About a month after Levi had joined the scouts, there had been an… incident of sorts. It wasn’t disastrous or anything like that, but Erwin had quickly ruled that the two of you weren’t allowed to be in the same room together without someone else present. A wise decision on his part, if you were being completely honest, and something that Levi nor you argued with in the slightest. But now, years later, it seemed both of you were ready to break that rule, Levi making the first move as he turned on his heel and waited to see if you would follow. 

Out of all of the scouts, you were known to be the most stealthy. Mike was usually the only one who could sense you were coming, claiming you had a distinctly pleasant smell that his nose had no problem picking up on. One time, he had even claimed that you were the best smelling person in the Survey Corps, and you couldn’t help but swell with pride. Hange had whispered to you later that evening that that was his way of flirting, but you never took her seriously. You weren’t interested in dating anyways. No one had ever really caught your eye minus one man, but you always said it was more of a fascination than a crush. 

Even your ODM gear seemed to be quieter than the rest, and you once managed to spook even the Commander when you landed on the same tree branch as him without him knowing. You naturally existed silently and sneakily so when Levi picked up on the sound of your sock-clad feet shuffling behind him, the pit of concern in his stomach grew. 

Reaching his quarters, he unlocked the door wordlessly, holding it open so that you could enter first. Your eyes widened as you took in the space. First of all, it was much bigger than your room. While you only had a bedroom and bathroom to yourself like the other squad leaders, Levi had a small living area with a couch, small coffee table, and even a desk. There were papers neatly stacked on top of it, and the rest of the area was just as orderly, his tea kettle sitting in the exact center of the coffee table. Only when you sat down on the couch did you see the small fireplace he had. It was just big enough to fit a tea kettle over it, and that’s what Levi proceeded to do. 

You let out a low whistle, capturing the man’s attention. “Wow. When did you get so important?” You asked, motioning lazily about the room with your hand. 

Levi scoffed and placed a hand casually on his hip. “Erwin gave it to me when he moved into the Commander’s quarters. Reward for the highest kill count or something like that.” His voice was so nonchalant that for a moment, you didn’t realize that he was insulting you. No, you thought, it was more of a tease than an insult. 

Now it was your turn to scoff, well aware that your fellow Captain was just trying to get a reaction out of you. Levi watched as you rolled your eyes playfully, firelight glinting off of your irises. Had they always been such a pretty color? 

The whistle of the kettle broke him out of his reverie, and he swiftly turned back to take it off of the heat. When he brought it back to the table, he was pleasantly surprised that you had already prepared the teacups, him only having to pour the water in and wait for it to steep. Hesitantly, he moved around the table to take a seat next to you, wondering when the two of you were ever this close. The events of the day popped into his head, and he did his best to ignore the fact that the thing he remembered the most about it was you being in his arms. Still, a question had been lingering in his mind, and he figured now was the best time to ask it. 

“Y/N,” he started, and you looked over with wide eyes at the use of your first name. You honestly weren’t aware that he even knew you had a first name. “Can I ask you a question?” You knew what was coming, but you forced yourself to nod anyways, giving him silent permission to know your secrets. “How do you know Kenny Ackerman?” 

It was a loaded question, and you let out a breath as you tried to figure out the best way to tell the story without getting either you or Kenny into trouble. Even the secrets of a dead man needed to be protected sometimes. Despite it all occurring years ago, the government’s threat towards you regarding the release of information hung heavily in your mind. Both you and Levi would be in danger if you revealed too much. He could swear himself to secrecy, and you would trust him, but the risk would never be worth the reward. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap, worrying your lip as you thought of how to start to explain. 

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, gathering your nerves before continuing, “About a year and a half before you joined the scouts, I got myself into a bit of trouble.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise as you were widely thought to be the most well behaved and well intentioned scout there was. He thought he was the only person who could get you riled up, your scoldings from the other squad leaders and the Commander always leading back to him. You sent him a small grin. “I wasn’t always the goody two shoes I am now, Levi.” 

“Anyways, it became kind of a big deal in the Capital, and a lot of higher-ups were calling for my head.” You let out a light chuckle. “Imagine just turning 19 and having almost every MP looking for you. Scary stuff.”

“Wait.” Levi held up a hand to stop you before you could continue. The story had just started, but he was already having trouble believing that this was the truth. If not for the darkness that rested just behind your eyes, he would’ve called bullshit as soon as you said your first sentence. “What exactly did you do?” 

You looked away from the intensity of his gaze for a moment, an internal debate raging on inside your head. With a sigh, you relented. “I… I can’t tell you everything, but let’s just say it had to do with a certain Premier and confidential papers being stolen from his office.” Levi’s eyes grew wide, and you took that as a sign to continue. “No one knows except Commander Erwin, but I spent most of my teenage years in the Underground. I was born within Wall Sina, so I had papers to be up top, but I much preferred being below gro—”

“Why?” Levi was quick to cut you off, his expression hard and tone almost offended.

“My parents owned land in Wall Sina, and when they died, they left none of it to me, so folk got the idea in their head that I was a problem child. I wasn’t wanted there, so I left.” You shrugged, and Levi’s face softened. “I admit, the Underground wasn’t easy, but I was quick on my feet and smart for my age. I survived and I survived by myself. Help wasn’t something I wanted, but when you’re suddenly being chased by the royal government, it becomes something you need. That’s how I found Kenny, and it’s why I owe him my life.” 

It had been a week since you had completed your assignment, already turning in the materials to the man who had hired you and returning back to your comfortable life underground. All had seemed to go swimmingly, and your confidence had grown tenfold. The feeling of being unstoppable was addictive, and you craved the sensation of that feeling again. You let your thoughts drift to what you could accomplish next, but sudden screams quickly snapped you out of your daydream. Straightening in your chair, you peeked out of the window of the tavern you currently resided in. Fear grew in your chest at what you saw.

Standing right outside were five MP’s, fully equipped with ODM gear and holding up a wanted poster with a poorly drawn sketch of your face on it. It was clear that they were asking for your whereabouts, and you were thankful to see that every person was shaking their heads to say no, they had no idea. Even with the solidarity of your fellow Underground citizens, you knew you had to get out of there and away from the sharp swords that hung off of the men’s waists. Before you could move, though, two of the men entered the bar, their eyes sweeping over the patrons. 

Right before their eyes could meet your frightened ones, your world was encased in darkness, the only light you could see coming from below you. You blinked, trying to understand what exactly just happened, but soon realized that a large hat had been placed over your head. Carefully, you lifted the brim so that you could see, and were met with the piercing silver stare of a man a good amount of years older than you. Apparently your confusion showed on your face because he quickly pushed the hat back down so that it shaded your features. 

He spoke in a quiet voice, only letting you be privy to whatever information he was about to share. “I’d keep that on if I were you, kitten. Don’t want the MP’s seeing your face, now do we?” You didn’t dare speak, but quickly shook your head, showing him you were listening and following instructions. “Good,” he dragged out the vowel, and the table shook as he placed his leg onto the table. Were those cowboy boots and spurs? You were pretty sure people only wore those in stories. “Now,” he stated, “We’re just gonna have a nice, pleasant conversation. Lots of giggles, ya hear me?” You nodded, the hat moving up and down your forehead. 

As the man started spewing nonsense, you did your best to play along, laughing like he said to and keeping your face covered as best you could. You could hear the MP’s getting closer to your table over the man’s rowdy voice, and the hand gripping your drink began to shake in fear. Smoothly, the man took your hand in his, making some weird comment about how soft it was. You frowned. Your hands weren’t soft at all. What was with this guy? 

The realization of what his plan was smacked you in the face, and you let out light giggles in response, putting on your most fake voice as you thanked him for the compliment. The things you were saying to each other became sickly sweet, so much so that you almost laughed at one point. As the soldiers approached your table, the mysterious man leaned in close, his alcoholic breath fanning over your face. Calmly, he swept the hat off of your head and placed it so that it covered both of your faces from the men who were now only a couple of feet away. 

A swift kick from under the table spurred you into action, and you let out a girlish moan followed by an exaggerated giggle. He followed suit, making a comment about how nice your lips were. If it were any other situation, you would punch this man in the face, but for right now, you’d listen to every command he gave you. From behind the hat you heard one of the MP’s mumble about ‘couples these days’ with a gagging noise coming from the other. With one last lovesick comment from the man in front of you, the MP’s retreated, leaving the tavern with muttered curses leaving their lips. 

Your savior leaned back into his chair, a smirk adoring his features as he placed his hat back on his head. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, you in shock and him in some state of glee. You decided to speak first. 

“Who are you?” 

“The name’s Kenny.” He kicked his other leg up on the table with a thwack! as the spur hit the cracked wood. The silence grew again, but this time you were at a loss for words. Sure, his name was Kenny, but was that all he was going to say? Apparently not, but when he spoke up again, it was entirely unhelpful. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

You frowned, unamused. “Maybe for you. I should punch you for some of the things you said. Strange men shouldn’t talk to unassuming ladies like that.” Your tone was laced with a bit of sarcasm, and he guffawed.

“I don’t think fugitives from the crown can be considered ladies,” he shot back, and you huffed. His face grew serious. “I’ve been watching you for a while, kitten.”

You raised your eyebrows at the nickname. “It’s Y/N, and, uh, what?” Once again, this man completely took you by surprise. 

He shrugged. “You may not know it yourself, kitten, but you’re well known down here in the Underground. A mysterious girl who arrives without a sound, stealing from the above-grounders and sharing the wealth with the rest of us? You’re practically a legend; some people don’t even believe you’re real, but those that do would protect you with their life.”

This was all news to you. Yes, those were things that you did, but people recognized you for it? You furrowed your eyebrows and blinked quickly as you tried to puzzle the situation out. “I…” You struggled for words.

Kenny held up a hand. “It’s true whether you believe it or not… But, it seems that you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew this time, my friend. Stealing from the Premier? Tsk, tsk.” His tone was more playful than condescending, and you gave him a weary grin. 

You sighed and finally relaxed back into your own chair, studying the man’s face. It showed his experience rather than his age, and you wondered just exactly who he was. Taking a chance, you pried for more information. You hated being in the dark. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Who are you?” 

His smile grew at your curiosity, crooked teeth appearing under chapped lips. “Someone who can help you. If you want it, that is. It seems clear you like to work on your own.” There was a challenge laced into his words, and you wondered what the right decision was. On one hand, getting involved with someone else, someone else you knew nothing about at that, was a dangerous game. On the other, you were in trouble and you needed all the help you could get. 

Taking a chance, you slowly nodded. “Okay. What do you have in mind?” 

He explained his plan. The MP’s didn’t know your name, so it would be easy to get above ground using your old Wall Sina papers. After you expressed your concern and with a chuckle, he dismissed their drawing of you, stating that once you got above ground and cleaned up, you would be unrecognizable from your old self. Then, with his next words, you lost your confidence in his plan. 

“You want me… to join the Survey Corps?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Uh, no way. That’s right under the government’s noses!” 

He brushed you off. “Eh, not really. The government already dislikes the Corps. They’re not gonna care who’s in it; they figure you’ll all die soon enough.” At that, you gave him a very blank stare, and he just laughed, stealing a swig from your mug. “You’ll be fine. You don’t seem like the dying type.”

It was true, you had escaped the jaws of death on multiple occasions, but you weren’t in the business of actively riding towards your demise. That seemed plain idiotic to you, and you made that known. “This isn’t a joke. It’s my life on the line,” you countered.

With a swift movement, his legs were off of the table and his body was leaning in towards yours, the weight on his elbows making the table creak. His eyes turned dark, levelling your gaze. “It’s your life either way. Would you rather die by the hands of the Military Police after they’ve done God-knows-what to you? Or would you rather die on your own terms, possibly fighting for Humanity’s freedom?” 

It was a good question, a fair question, and one you immediately knew the answer to. You sucked in a breath as you resigned yourself to your new fate. “So, how do we do this?” 

With another grin, Kenny explained the rest of his plan. It really wasn’t a bad idea, and you were grateful for the help. But still uncertainty settled in your stomach.

The day you were to join the Corps, Kenny had told you he would meet you before you left. You hadn’t seen him in about a week, and in that time, you had completely changed yourself, moving up top, getting a haircut, and finally wearing clean, untorn clothes. It was weird and different, but a part of you enjoyed it. This was a new start, you had chosen to believe.

“Kitten!” You turned towards the easily recognizable voice with a roll of your eyes, but the playful smile that toyed with your lips gave away your true feelings. “Give me a spin!” He requested, and when you did, he let out a loud whistle. “Damn, you really look like you belong up here.”

You raised your eyebrows with a grin. “That’s the point, right?” 

“Precisely, my friend, precisely.” Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he began to walk with you towards where the ferry would pick you up. His pace was slow, obviously not in a rush to say goodbye, and you felt the same. Somehow, the two of you had grown close over the past month. Even with all of the secrets you both kept from each other, there was an air of freedom when you were in the other’s presence. No lies, no false personalities, just friendship. 

It was refreshing, to say the least.

For once, you both were quiet as you walked. The weight of the future hung over both of you, pressing your mouths shut. He managed to speak first, his voice cracking for the first time since you met him and giving away his true emotions. 

“Stay safe, kitten.” The words were serious, and something in him couldn’t stand to let that be the last thing he said. “You’ll kick those Titans’ asses.” 

Normally, you’d laugh, or at least smile, at his cheesy jokes. Instead, you stopped walking and turned until you both faced each other, looking up to meet his eyes. With a swallow, you asked something of him that you knew was unfair, was selfish, was wrong. Yet, you still asked, knowing Kenny wouldn’t hold it against you. 

“Promise me you won’t die before me.” 

His eyes softened in understanding, crinkles forming around their edges as he gave you the most gentle of smiles. He knew what you needed to hear, knew it would be a lie, knew you’d hate him for it. But, he said it anyway.

“I promise.”

[bigskydreaming]

Hello, hello, tis I, your friendly neighborhood ‘dude who is obsessed with people making jokes and insults out of Dick’s name’ back with another episode of Why No But Seriously Why!

In today’s episode, we’re going to focus on the fanon of the swear jar. That thing ordained by Alfred that makes many an appearance in fics and headcanons....including ones that also show Jason and/or others calling Dick a Dickhead and other things all willy nilly and suchlike and forthwith.

How does this track, asketh I? Does Alfred provide exemption clauses for making fun of your brother, to the others? Does Alfred not consider making crude insults out of the name Dick to be a swear? Does Alfred, a born Brit, hailing from the land of the “We’ve Been Calling Richards ‘Dicks’ For Longer Than The Rest Of You Have Been Calling Them Rich’s,” not consider the fascination with making penis jokes out of the name of a child he’s helped raised from the age of EIGHT to be uncultured, crass and frankly unacceptable in any house he resides in?

I’m just saying, does it really make sense, and is the risk of pulling readers out of your story if they’re NOT amused by the jokes made of his name really worth whatever it is you feel is added to a story BY making the same old jokes about Dick’s name?

As I’ve said many times before....Dick Grayson? Fictional character. Has no feelings that actually need protecting....OUTSIDE of fiction. Making jokes about his name from beyond the fourth wall, just people commenting on a fictional character’s name? Go wild, go crazy, have a freaking Bacchanalia. Truly does not matter, if you ask me.

But IN universe? IN fiction? Totally different story, because look what those jokes require or make assumptions out of:

1) That Dick truly has no protective or defensive feelings whatsoever about his childhood nickname, and genuinely feels nothing about people habitually taking his choice to keep it as an invitation to insult or mock him.

1b) That Dick doesn’t in any way ever perceive peoples’ insistence on associating his name MORE with the insults and penis jokes than they do with it just being a name, to in any way be a slight against his beloved parents, of the “well they should have known better than to call him that” variety.

1c) That Dick has no negative feelings whatsoever about the fact that even his close friends and family regard his name as being no more worthy of respect or being ‘offlimits’ than the average Gothammite or public citizen might regard it, despite the fact that his close friends and family are perfectly aware of the public’s history of looking down on Dick for his origins and thus you’d think would WANT to appear different than them in Dick’s eyes.

1d) That Dick has never at any point expressed anger, frustration or bitterness that he can’t even have his name respected without even loved ones superimposing their own associations on top of it, no matter what it means to HIM.

2) That Alfred truly has no opinions whatsoever of the other charges in his care disrespecting Dick’s name and its origins stemming from his first parents.

2b) That Alfred has never expressed this opinion to any of them or made his displeasure about such jokes known.

2c) That Alfred doesn’t find it disappointing that the rest of the family and associated friends and allies seem disinclined to separate themselves from the general public’s opinions of Dick’s name by regarding it with a little more respect as at least a sign that they regard Dick himself with a little more respect than the general public.

3) That Jason or none of Dick’s other friends or family have never taken the initiative to wonder for themselves how Dick might actually feel about the frequent jokes or insults, and if shockingly, he might not actually be fond of them.

3b) That Jason or Dick’s other friends or family have chosen not to care or respect the opinions of Dick and/or Alfred or anyone else who states or suggests that these jokes or insults aren’t welcome.

4) That none of Dick’s other friends, be they Titans, or Uncle Clark, or siblings like Cass or Damian or frankly anyone, ever speak up in defense of Dick’s name and suggest that there’s a significant lack of respect around it and thus around him, that they personally take a very dim view of. (Even when Jason’s best friends include Dick’s former fianceé and own longtime BFF).

5) That nobody has ever bothered to think that only EVER being addressed by some form of insult by even his own siblings might possibly have a slightly demoralizing effect on someone’s self-esteem over time.

5b) That nobody has ever bothered to think that making sexual jokes about his name and thus innately sexualizing Dick from even his earliest days in Gotham, when coupled with the hyper-sexualized stereotypes people often apply to Romani individuals and further coupled with the suggestive rumors surrounding Bruce’s reasons for taking in a young boy, might possibly have contributed over time to Dick having an extremely skewed view of himself as an innately sexualized being no matter what he actually did in terms of sexual behavior.

I mean.....there’s more. If I felt like it.

But the point is......there’s a LOT of implicit assumptions that creep in alongside the seemingly harmless jokes and insults surrounding Dick’s name, the second you start to really focus in on how it might appear from his POV....IF you include even just the possibility that he DOESN’T like it.

EDIT: Also, lots of people have pointed out that its just sibling culture to make fun of a sibling in ways that you wouldn’t be okay with someone outside the family making the same jokes. And this is absolutely true! BUT. My issue here and why I don’t think the Dickhead jokes fall under this umbrella, is because I can say in my experience being from a blended family, and from what I’ve discussed in the past with other kids from blended families....there are ‘rules’ about this sort of thing, when you have adopted siblings, and the one near-universal truth that I’ve always found is that anything that stems from an adopted sibling’s first family, the one you do NOT share with them, is absolutely off limits. You mock them for something that originated outside your family, you’re the asshole, because at that point, you’re literally no different from outsiders to your current family making fun of that sibling. That ‘joke’ is not YOURS to make or share in, if you do not have the history with the thing you’re basing the joke on, that your sibling has with it. Shared history is the entire basis of siblings being able to mock each other while still citing solidarity against outsiders, and in adopted families, there absolutely are elements of each others’ lives that YOU are the outsider to, and it absolutely falls on you to respect that just as you’d want your sibling to respect the same of you in turn. If Jason absolutely would not be okay with Dick or anyone else making jokes about Catherine or his life with her, he should not be okay with making jokes about Dick’s name, circus origins, or other aspects of his life that stem from or call back to his time with his first family. The same holds true of all the others as well.

The other aspect of this name-calling not falling under the excuse-umbrella of just being typical sibling culture is its entirely one-sided. Show me the tendency where Dick responds to these everpresent jokes or insults by even light-heartedly calling Jason and the others insults like Hey Asshole, or Dumbass or anything like that. When things are entirely one-way, the impression given is not that of a camaraderie of back-and-forth. It becomes just one person or multiple people punching down in a way they feel confident from experience the other person will NOT respond in kind, which gives them an outlet for venting frustration, resentment or aggravation which risks them nothing, because they KNOW Dick won’t retaliate, and at that point that exchange becomes something very different from a general sibling back-and-forth....because there’s no ‘back.’ What you end up with at that point is literally just hostility, no matter if more mild than other cases, and a situation where one sibling is simply taking ADVANTAGE of the opportunity afforded by another sibling’s good nature and refusal to engage in hurt feelings even while you feel free to cause those feelings in them. And that’s just not a good look. Its just not. And even if you find those exchanges humorous yourself as a writer or a reader, you might want to keep in mind that to plenty of other readers, its making even the characters you like and INTEND to be liked, just....come across as kinda not cool assholes instead.

END OF EDIT.

And here’s the other point:

Its not really about his name, and never has been.

His name is simply emblematic of how EASY it is for people to fall into the trap of just....choosing to overlook Dick’s POV entirely, the second its pitted against other characters and what they might gain from their POV....even if that ‘gain’ is as simple and basic as the slight moment of humor Jason gets from making a joke or mocking insult out of Dick’s name.

Here, let me present this another way:

Every single person alive has SOMETHING they get defensive or protective about. SOMETHING that they’re like no, this is offlimits to people, this is not for their consumption, their entertainment, its not for THEM to take and twist into something other than what it is for ME, because its MINE. This is basic human nature. EVERYONE has this feeling about SOMETHING that’s particular to them.

And with Dick, most of the things that we’re generally given to view him being protective or defensive about are either almost more about other people than him - such as being protective of his family members - or else, they’re things that he’s not ALLOWED to be purely defensive or say, territorial about.

Like for instance, the name Robin.

Think about how Robin is pretty much one of the ONLY things Dick is largely deemed to be defensive or proprietary about.....BUT how that’s also largely used NOT to have him wholly in the right for feeling that way.....but to put him in conflict with the other Robins, given that they also have strong feelings about the name regardless of its origins, and its not solely Dick’s anymore.

Now here’s my question:

If for example, you go with the take that Robin was Dick’s mother’s name for him, and that’s why Dick is so protective and defensive of that name.....why would he be any LESS protective or defensive about his mother AND father’s OTHER name for him....given that the only possible reason for him TO stick with the name Dick all throughout adulthood, is that its the form of his name they referred to him by, and thus, clearly, it DOES carry emotional significance for him?

See what I’m saying?

Why is it, that the only time so many people see Dick laying a claim to something, being defensive or protective of something that’s HIS, standing up for HIMSELF.....is when the waters are murky, when its not a clear cut case of him being wholly in the right, when it pits Dick against someone else and says both are at least somewhat valid?

Why is it so RARE to see people imagine Dick putting his foot down in defense of himself, in defense of something that’s HIS.....where its 100% crystal clear that he has every right and reason in the world to feel this way, where there’s no doubt whatsoever that he’s on the correct side of thinking “this is mine and I get to say this”?

Even about something as simple and basic as his own name?

And why is it the only time we seem to see people sticking up for Dick or weighing in on his behalf, its in the case of extreme actions like him having been raped or abused? Why are there hardly any stories of people looking at alleged family and friends bitching about Dick or heaping insults on him or his capabilities and saying hey, he’s been doing this while most of us were sitting in middle school detention, you could show him some respect? Why do none of the people who value and respect Dick so highly ever seem to weigh in like THAT in stories?

My challenge, should you choose to accept it, is just to look at the above list of possible reasons why Dick might not be thrilled about how people use his name....and just IMAGINE what it would look like, if Dick just said to another character....”Hey. Could you cut that out. I would appreciate it if you didn’t do that.” Even just “I really don’t like that.”

How does a scene like that go? One where Dick is wholly and completely justified in putting his foot down, in feeling that someone is overstepping or paying him an insult or a disservice?

We hear all the time in fandom about how in the name of ‘humanizing’ Dick and ‘making him more relatable’ some people focus overly much on emphasizing his flaws, his alleged temper, his secretiveness, etc.

I’d like to argue that flaws are not actually the only staple of humanity. Risking making a character more dislikable is not actually the only way to make them feel more human or relatable. THIS is another way to do that. Make them defensive, proprietary, territorial, even prickly.....but with REASON. With CAUSE. With JUSTIFICATION. Because people are ALLOWED to be, when people are being a - all irony intended - total dick to them.

And there is a long, LONG history in fanfics, of people being exactly that to Dick, and him just....smiling.

EXCEPT for when his choice NOT to smile, and to actually take offense and push back......pits him against another character but with the other character usually being granted just as much right and reason to not give way.

So? I’m saying you have right here a perfect example of how to flip the script on that. To make it abundantly clear that Dick has just as much right to put his foot down with even people who love and care about him and say hey, you’re doing something I don’t like, that in fact even hurts me, and I want you to stop.

Why not use it? Why does there always seem to need to be an ARGUMENT about whether or not Dick is in the right to feel wronged in some way.....when its so abundantly clear that he’s given no shortage of reasons for that in practically every other fic?

And consider.....if you’ve never previously entertained the idea that Dick might take offense to how people treat his name, or feel defensive about it......what else might you be overlooking that he could feel that way about, and is there any reason why you think you tend not to view Dick as being defensive of HIMSELF and things that are uniquely his?

*Shrugs* Just food for thought, mayhaps.

[liddolwhynot2000]

Unprecedented Reactions: Part 2

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Summary: He likes you, scratch that, he's more then half way in love with you. And if you keep this up, he's not sure he can control himself and keep these feeling bottled up for much longer.

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Pairings: Levi/Reader

Genre: Romance, longing, Soldier!Reader, Levi deserves happiness

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Please read part 1 to understand this better => Unprecedented Reactions

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Growing up in the underground, Levi had learned a very different way to navigate life then normal people did. If you stole a loaf of bread and got caught, you got beat up and starved. If you pick pocketed and didn't get much, you should have picked your target better. If you played nice and thought for anyone but yourself, be prepared to be used and discarded.

When Kenny had left him to fend for himself, Levi had survived on his own just fine. In order to not get caught stealing food, he ran faster. To pick pocket well, his sharp eyes picked out whose pockets had more in them. He didn't make any friends, didn't let anyone join him, so there was never any need to worry about getting stabbed in the back.

Until he met Farlan.

Farlan had been an exception to all his rules, an addition to his life that he hadn't anticipated. Levi had been nervous of course, and not very trusting at the start. But the man had won him over, and secured a soft spot that Levi didn't think his heart even had.

Farlan had not just been his friend, but his brother. The man he only had to look at to ask for a solution to their problems, the man who made jokes that had him hiding smiles, who didn't hesitate a second in defending him from everyone in that hell hole.

He had accepted their brotherhood, feeling a little anxious, but mostly at peace with his decision. And then he had met Isabel.

Sweet, kind Isabel. She had just been a starved, homeless kid when he had found her. His heart hadn't been able to accept the idea of just leaving her there, of walking past her and ignoring her like he forced himself to with all the others. Farlan had only smiled at him when he brought her home and had given her some bread. It had been his way of saying he agreed with Levi's decision.

Since then, they had been a trio. They'd wreak havoc in the underground together, working hard to sustain themselves. Levi, knowing his superior strength, took up more work. He didn't mind it, feeling more safe ensuring their well being with his own hands.

It eventually became a pattern, of leaving it all to him. Sometimes it made him feel pressured, most of the time he pressured them to keep it up. He was too nervous, too scared that he would lose his self made family if he didn't protect them.

His worries hadn't been for nothing, his fears of losing them hadn't been unfounded. Unfortunately, his own actions had been the root cause of it.

If only he hadn't insisted that they believe in him. If only he had kept them close and hadn't gone off on his own. Farlan would be alive right now, and so would Isabel. Had Levi not pushed them to pick, his family would be safe and sound, with him.

Instead, here he was, lying in bed, covered in blankets, and unable to to do anything but mourn.

He would never be the same again, for he would never have his family back. All the positive emotions he had accessed in the years of being with them, had died, leaving behind a shell of a man.

It was like the candle lighting up the room had been shut off by wind. One strong breeze cut off the entire light source, leaving all the darkness in the room what it needed to thrive and spread. Levi didn't think that candle could ever be lit up again, that he could ever experience care for another human being again.

It felt like his heart had been effectively killed.

And that's when he heard the door open.

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He heard you put down the tray, but could tell you hadn't immediately left after. You were still there, staring at him perhaps. Probably ridiculing him for his depression, like he could tell everyone else was.

It ignited a fury in him, an anger he had felt leave his body once he had butchered that titan to pieces. He suddenly wanted to be violent, to destroy everything that crossed his path. Anything that could serve as outlet for his grief. Just as he thought to get out of the blankets and confront whoever had dared to enter his room-he heard the door shut.

Levi sits up, frowning. His hair is all over the place and his uniform direly needed to be cleaned. But he didn't care, he wanted to know why you had dared to enter his room. What gave you the right. He didn't care that you had come to give him food, he just wanted to pick a fight.

Throwing the covers off of him, he ignored the voice in his head that chimed at him to clean his shit up. But he would do that later. Right now, his hands were itching to unleash violence on something. Or rather, someone.

He followed you out, noting that you were a female. His stealth abilities were top notch-a novice like you couldn't even hope to notice him, walking along like nothing was happening.

You paused, and Levi stopped short, thinking he had been found out. He didn't bother to hide himself, after all, he was here to face you. His eyebrows furrowed as he distinctly heard a few male voices chattering.

‘H-Hey did you see that midget from the underground?’

Levi tensed, having a good idea of where this was going. He couldn't help noticing the way you had done the same.

'Yeah. You see the nerve he has, locking himself up in that room like he’s actually mourning. That fucker didn’t even join for the cause.'

He frowned, so what if he hadn't joined the suicidal corps for their cause. Isabel and Farlan had been alive, just like any other person. They had loved and cared for him, and he had done the same for them. Only ungrateful surface dwellers would think he had no right to mourn his friends.

It made his fist clench. You were the furthest thing from his mind now, these men would be the fight he needed ot sate his blood lust.

'Let’s.. Let’s teach that midget a lesson. I bet he’s putting it on. He’s just scum from the underground, he doesn’t even belong here.’

Levi was long accustomed to being called words like that. He fucking hoped they would approach him to 'teach a lesson.' As they all decided they would 'counsel' him on the death of his friends, Levi wanted to laugh. The underground and the surface really did have the same type of scum on it.

Their voices got louder as they approached, and Levi prpeared himself to kick their asses to hell and back-

--Only for you to grab one of the mens arms and smash him against the wall.

Confused, he kept himself out of sight, watching as you took on all three of them. He couldn't understand why you were doing this. Were you like him, frustrated and needing a way to let loose? It made sense, those drunk ass men were good target practice. But he couldn't help feeling that there was more to this.

'Have a little compassion you jerks! He just lost his friends!'

You were defending him? Him? The scum of the underground? Against your precious cormades? Levi could feel the fight in him dying out, being replaced by emotions he had thought that he would never feel again.

'If anyone of you dares to approach him, I swear I'll get the Commander on your asses!'

You were holding one of them in a choke hold, confident that they couldn't overwhelm you.

Levi was in awe of you, watching you lecture and beat up the men that planned on attacking him. The last time someone had defended him like this was Farl-

His breath seized, and he closed his eyes, feeling an abundance of emotions he just couldn't identify. He couldn't word them out, not today.

But he knew he felt grateful to you.

Once he was sure you wouldn't get hurt, he went back to his room. He took the soup and the bread from the tray you had left, and began to eat, allowing himself to not think about anything.

Unbeknownst to him, the candle flickered back on.

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He takes note of you after that, his eyes seeking you out whenever you were in vicinity. He's accepted his role in the corps, his responsibility as a soldier, but he can't help gravitating towards you.

You remind him of Farlan, but it's different. Farlan had wanted to be his friend, but you? You came to his defense, solely out of the kindness of your heart. You want nothing in exchange.

You don't boast about it, don't flaunt it, not to him or anyone else. If Levi hadn't seen you defend him with his own eyes, he would have never found out about it. Those men don't even look in his direction, not after what you did to them.

He feels curious about you, and allows himself to keep you in his radar.

He settles into his job well, climbing the ranks quicker then he thought he would. But Levi is quick to realise why--there just aren't enough people in the Corps. They need him, and if it means having to put aside their reservations about his origins, then so be it.

It makes his day a little better to watch Erwin sweat over keeping him around. He doesn't plan to leave, but it's nice getting a little special treatment. Especially all the free tea he gets.

He doesn't know how to approach you, and even if he did, he has no idea of what to say. Should he tell you he knows what you did? Thank you for it?

He's not used to making friends, so he doesn't know how to be friends with you. Rather, he contends himself with watching you from afar, keeping an eye out for you just in case.

You're a strong, capable soldier, and it brings him a little relief to know that. As his time in the survey Corps piles up, Levi notices how easily some of his comrades get slaughtered. How helpless he is to stop it all.

He selfishly celebrates your safe return from each expedition in his mind.

He can't help noticing you, how kind you are. You put everyone around you at ease, making jokes. He remembers the first time you talked to him, how flustered he had felt afterwards.

'Levi I'm beginning to think the walls were built to protect the titans from you. Not us from them.'

Everyone had laughed, and Levi had felt heat creep up his cheeks at it. It had launched an entire debacle of comrades lauding his strength, one he hadn't been able to shut down. Everyone had been too drunk to be scared of him, and he had been too lost in his thoughts about you to be terrifying enough.

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His following interactions with you are cordial and meaningful at the same time. Ranging from drinking tea together, to practicing with your gear at the same time.

Even though he can't quite explain it, he finds himself making exceptions for you. You're not that good at cleaning, just average, but he doesn't have the heart to scold you for it like with everyone else. He finds himself turning a blind eye to it, blaming your mess on others and letting you off the hook.

It doesn't make much sense on his part, but it happens without him even planning it. There's just something about you that makes him automatically nicer. Levi doesn't question it much, instead opting to simply follow his gut instincts without regrets.

He's too tired of having to think on the battle field, feeling exhausted in his efforts to keep everyone alive. Being around you has a powerful effect on him- for just being your vicinity makes him feel at peace.

Maybe it's because he just misses his friends, and has latched on to you. Or maybe he's too worried about the others still judging his background, thus making him cling to you, the only person he knows doesn't give a damn.

Or maybe it's just that he's very much interested in you- and it's so foreign that he can tell it's not just friendship.

Friendship was when he wanted to help Farlan not die carrying crates that are too heavy for him. He's sure it's not him snatching them away before you even look at them.

Friendship is being okay with his friends talking to other people, not feeling possessive about the low lives who flirt with you. It's certainly not imagining different ways to teach them how to keep their hands to themselves.

Friendship should be being okay with the bare minimum physical affection, not day dreaming being wrapped up in your arms, wondering about how soft they would feel.

He's got a good idea of what he's feeling, but he doesn't have enough nerve to verbalise it. Doesn't have the required courage needed to look you in the eye and say it.

He needs a push, and not the literal one Hange tries to give him everytime she catches him staring at you. He knows he should at least admit what he feels about you in his own mind, but he just can't.

Until he does.

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Ever since he's accepted his position in the survey corps, Levi has made it mission to give it his all. Every order is carried out swiftly, every action is conducted with purpose. He's devoted himself to his job-- no one could link the brash underground thug to the man he is now.

And he likes it that way.

The job isn't easy, of course, especially with all the losses incurred on every expedition. He feels grief for every life lost outside the walls, inwardly chastising himself for not being there, even though he knows its out of his hands.

His hands itch with the urge to do something for his fallen cormades, who gave up their lives to help them succeed. Their young, bright expressions flash in mind, because he was fond of them. He wonders what he can do to honour them, and comes up with two methods.

One, he begins to take their wings of freedom insignia off their dead bodies, keeping them safe and sound for their loved ones. To him, it's proof that they were alive.

Two, he starts making them special graves. It's a laborious task, especially on his own, but he wants to do it. He has to do it, if only to give himself and everyone a way to talk to them, to tell them that they're remembered, even in their deaths.

It's one day he's in the midst of his self assigned mission that you stumble upon him.

He notices you from the corner of his eye, wondering what you think of what's upto. He pretends not to notice the smile you flash his way, knowing that it'll be harder to hold back his blush if he dwells on you too long.

You walk away, and he finds himself slightly dissapointed. He figured you'd at least try to talk to him a little, but shoves his thoughts aside. However he finds himself pleasantly surprised when you return just a few moments later, with a shovel in your hand.

As you flash him a grin and begin to dig as well, he barely manages to take his eyes off of you. Returning to his own task, he finally admits it to himself.

He likes you, scratch that, he's more then half way in love with you. And if you keep this up, he's not sure he can control himself and keep these feeling bottled up for much longer.

He's not sure he can stay away from you for much longer, and a part of him is aching for that time to come.

Now that's he's admitted it to himself, he wonders if he can admit it you.

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The most notable moment he has with you is, unfortunately, when he saves you from a titan. He had hoped that he would never have to see you in this situation, but when has he ever gotten what he hopes for?

He manages to save you in the nick of time, and he's sure he's going to have nightmares about it. You almost falling into a titans mouth, your expression frozen in terror. It's something he'll remember in his darkest moments, a scene right out of his worst fears.

He can't bring himself to keep his distance after saving you, wanting to ensure that you're not injured in anyway. He knows his grip is more delicate then usual, his eyes are more worried then expressionless. But he can't help it.

You mean more to Levi then you think, more then he can even comprehend himself.

He's a little giddy, like a cadet with a crush on his senior, when he finds out your horse isn't there. It means you have to ride on his horse with him, the idea of which makes him feel shy and a little more excited then it should.

You fall asleep on the way back, your head resting on his chest. He doesn't have the heart to wake you up, to the point he sneaks you past everyone in the formation and gently lays you down in the cart. He covers you with his cloak and eyes your peaceful expression, heart sorely wishing for things he's never known he wanted.

There's an urge to brush the strands of hair on your face, he tries to resist it at first but ultimately gives in. His hands are stiff, and he's alert, worried you might wake up. But the moment he manages to brush them aside, he hurriedly moves away from you.

His heart is beating too fast, and he doesn't know how to calm it down.

He's doesn't think he even wants to.

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Dream do come true-especially in Levi's case. He's dreamt of all of his friends dying, and life has served accordingly. Every worst case scenerio that has ever invaded his mind, has the tendency to be brought to life.

It stings really, the injustice of it all. But he knows better then to complain-like always, he makes peace with the situation, and moves on. He refuses to look back and cry, knowing he'll end up in drowning in regrets if he does. He braces himself for the future--likely to be a very dark and bleak one.

He never, in hold widest dreams, expected one of his deeply desired dreams to come true.

He's been digging deep inside himself, trying to find the needed courage to approach you with romantic intentions. To let you know his hearts desires. But so far he's achieved nothing.

So when you approach him one night, eyes unable to look into his own, he's on the edge. He overthinks, expects you to reject him. You probably noticed him pathetically staring at you, and no doubt decided that he needs to be put in his place. He knows he deserves it, after all, what right does a man like him have to even think about someone as pure as you?

He braces himself to be brutally turned down, what he doesn't expect is the words that tumble out of your mouth.

'I.. I'm in l-love with you.'

The words are stuttered, with a red blush spread across your cheeks. He stares at you for a few seconds, mentally commanding your eyes to meet his. When they don't, he takes action with such confidence that he surprises himself.

His hands move to grasp your wrists, and he pulls you closer to him. He rests his forehead against yours, finally managing to get you to look him in the eyes.

Levi smiles, a sight that only you would have the pleasure of seeing for the rest of your life. He chuckles a little, moving even closer to you.

Dreams really do come true in his case. Sometimes, even the good ones.

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A/N: Ta dah! Heyooo here's the part 2! I hope y'all enjoyed this. My asks are open so ask awayyy. Till next time 💕