#and have until that point suffered pretty similar accusations of not trying hard enough or not caring enough to meet certain expectations

[chubs-deuce]

I've had ENOUGH of this dude

[xsamsharons]

come here often? - n. lantsov

pairing: nikolai lantsov x healer!reader.

genre/warning: fluff. mentions of injuries.

words: 1.6k

summary: in which nikolai and you aren't really close, until he falls on his face and you fall in love.

It was a rather slow night considering you were working as the main healer aboard a ship that had the prince of Ravka as its captain and also counted the three leaders of the grisha triumvirate as part of the crew. Night after night, people would come in though the makeshift hospital David had built into your room for you, injured by the weirdest things you would ever imagine, and go back out to no doubt keep endangering their lives on behalf of their country. Now, you were not saying that fighting for your country was an dishonorable thing to do, the opposite actually, but for the life of you, you just couldn’t seem to understand how someone could possibly willingly jump off a ship and into an ocean filled with monsters and mythical creatures, and not expect any injuries.

Speaking of, as of right now you found yourself attending the injuries of none other but the captain himself, he looked like he hadn’t slept in ages, and reeked of sea water and sweat. The first time you had met him you had been extremely nervous about actually using your powers on him, after all, you didn’t wanna be known as the healer who had permanently injured the future king. That day you had learned that Nikolai became pretty delirious every time he was suffering from physical pain given as he had had a broken nose and damaged rib, but he had claimed that ‘the other guy had it worse’. This would’ve be a normal enough to say, except in this case, the ‘other guy’ was an ancient mythical being that has been believed to only exist in Ravkan’s passed down stories. Ever since then, he has been ending up in your room almost every night, and with your unfortunate luck, he always seemed to arrive right in your shifts.

His face was framed by messy strands that had fallen from his red tailored hair, and on his chest were displayed a couple of gold necklaces that matched the buttons of his red coat. He had been talking to you and distracting you from your work ever since he arrived, and to make matters worse, he had to rest on one of the beds in your room all night just in case the fall he had taken on his face somehow caused more damage than you had originally thought.

“So, you come here often?” he asked with a crooked smirk and wandering eyes.

“You mean my room? Where I work?” you answered, rolling your eyes when he nodded his head and raised his eyebrows, implying it was a totally logical question. “Yes, I come here often. Not as often as you it would seem. Quite prone to hurting yourself, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I just like to visit my favorite healer.”

Ah yes, the flirting. It seemed it wasn’t enough for him to already bother you with his presence, but he also made it his mission to flirt with you as much as possible during his stay.

“Firstly, I’m the only specialized healer you know, so that line isn’t as smooth as you think it is.” you started, continuing to work on his nose. “Secondly, I would appreciate it if you could keep your advances to the minimum. We don’t want you to damage your brain trying to come up with more pick up lines, seeing as it requires a lot of effort for you to even get coherent sentences out.” you said sarcastically and watched his smirk grow.

“What is it going to take for you to finally admit you actually really like me?” he asked, and for the life of you, you could not understand how he’d come to that conclusion when all you’ve ever done is turn him down. Nonetheless, you figured you’d follow his game. If you were going to spend your whole night by his side, you could use some fun.

“Well, for one, I have never seen you not beaten up, or showered for that matter, so that would be a great start.” you said, tailoring his nose to look like Sturmhond’s crooked one after you finished tending to it.

“It’s not my fault I always end up here in the nights when we get ambushed.” he said in a voice that could almost be considered as a whine, and you found yourself smiling at how cute he sounded when he wasn’t being an asshole. Still, you furrowed your brows in response to something he’d hinted at.

“Ambushed? What, like by other crews?” you asked and he nodded. “So, you tailor yourself to not get ambushed for being a royal, but we still are ambushed even when you look like Sturmhond? What’s the point then?”

“It may be kind of useless now that everyone in Ravka knows us, but I like pretending to be someone else sometimes.” he shrugged, a look that you’d never seen on his face appearing. “It’s stupid, i know” he snorted, trying to shake off the weight of his sentence after you remained quiet for a few seconds.

“It’s not stupid.” you were quick to deny. “I get it, believe me. Growing up as a grisha in Fjerda, I wished every night before bed to have the ability to simply be reborn as someone else.” you admitted, missing the shocked look on his face.

“You are Fjerdan?” he asked.

“What? That’s not in my file?” you answered with a question of your own and he rolled his green eyes.

After you accused him of violating your privacy for reading your file and he defensively said that it was his job to know his crew, you spent a few minutes teaching him Fjerdan words and took advantage of the little knowledge he had about your native language by making fun of his tailored face, knowing he couldn’t understand what you were saying.

“So, how come you praise yourself so much about your aim but seem to get beaten up every night?” you asked.

“Hey! I am actually an incredible shot, thank you very much.” he replied, offense clear on his voice, making you snort.

“Can’t be any good if the only times I ever see you is when you are injured.” you said sarcastically, and he made a face that seemed a bit dramatic in your opinion.

“Not my fault you are trapped between these four walls every night.” he replied, and now it was your turn to act defensively.

“Excuse you! I have a life outside of the hospital.” you said in a light tone, to let him know you weren’t truly offended.

“People who have lives don’t need to remind other people that they do.”

“People who are great in battle don’t need to remind other people that they are.”

“Touché.” he said with a smirk.

You spent the next couple of hours talking to Nikolai about random topics, him not failing to deliver a pick up line from time to time, and the night was slowly but surely starting to slip out of your hands. Right now, you were back to him being the topic of conversation after you had ranted for a couple of minutes about how hard it was to have to grow up in Fjerda hiding who you were. As you teased him telling him he had to settle for captain of a ship because he wasn’t a good enough royal (a claim he denied thoroughly), he looked like he wanted to say something else, before Genya entered the room with a smirk on her face.

“If you two lovebirds are done flirting, you are needed up on the main deck. Sparring session gone wrong - again.” she informed you, rolling her eyes at the usual recklessness of the crew.

“Yes, ma’am.” you saluted sarcastically, before turning back around to face Nikolai again and check his injuries one more time.

“You should actually stay upstairs with us sometime, that way I can prove to you that I'm actually good.” he suggested once Genya was out of the room again. “Plus, the day should be sunny today so we’ll probably spar a lot.”

“You’ve flirted with me every night you’ve been here and the answer’s always been the same, what makes you think tonight is going to be different?”

“Oh, come on. I promise I'll shower and I will try to not get punched in the face. That way you get to see me showered and not injured, it’s a package deal you can’t just ignore.” he pleaded, in reference to your words from earlier.

“All right, maybe I'll stay upstairs after I finish fixing the crew up, and if I catch sight of a certain arrogant royal I know, I might stick around to watch a sparring session or two.” you gave in with a smirk, leading him to the door so he could leave you alone to fix your room up a bit before you went upstairs.

“I’ll see you when I see you then.” he said while bowing his invisible pirate hat, and walked away with a wink.

He left you standing at your desk watching as, just like every other night, he slipped past your door and out onto the main deck again. You watched as he caught up with Genya and said something to her with a smirk, though you couldn’t quite catch the words the spoke, and turned back around to tidy up your room with a stupid smile on your face.

bonus:

“Did it work?” Genya asked him with raised eyebrows and a smile, her question in reference to the plan they had come up with to get Nikolai to spend more time with you. It consisted of Genya tailoring his face to look like he had fallen on his face and busted his nose open.

“Like a charm.” Nikolai nodded, a smile similar to the one you were wearing back in your room appearing on his face.

a/n: making fun of sturmhond's nose is a personality trait and it's mine (and alina's)

[oumakokichi]

So what do you think of Kaede and Kokichi's relationship? And if Kaede remained the protagonist how do you think it would change?

Considering it’s Kaede’s birthday today I think this is a really fun question to come back to!

Kaede is an absolutely amazing character, and I love how different her relationships with the rest of the cast feel from Saihara’s. She and Ouma have an especially interesting friendship in their FTEs together (one of Kaede’s FTEs with Ouma might be one of my favorite FTEs ever, really), so I don’t mind going a little more in-depth on my thoughts about their dynamic, as well as about how that dynamic and the story itself might’ve changed if Kaede had remained the protagonist!

Warning for spoilers as always, though I’m pretty sure most people know about the chapter 1 twist by now.

I think one of my absolute favorite things about Kaede is just how easy it is to get attached to her in such a short amount of time. She’s only around for the prologue and a single chapter, but despite that (or rather, because of the sheer length of the chapters in ndrv3, which tend to be much longer than dr1 or sdr2’s chapters), we still get to see so many different sides of her and just how complex of a character she really is. And I think that’s largely the reason for her continued popularity to this day: Kaede might not stay around for long, but we still really feel like we know her by the end of it.

And really, I think that’s pretty similar to how the actual characters feel about Kaede themselves. Despite how short her time is with all of them, she leaves such a powerful, lasting impression, even after her death. This is a pretty big change from previous DR games, where the chapter 1 culprits especially tend to suffer a pretty big lack of relevance or relationship to other characters in later chapters. Often times the victims are at least somewhat memorable (Maizono and the Impostor both at least come up a few times in their respective games), but characters like Leon or Teruteru just don’t feel like they have much of an impact on the other characters or the plot itself after their trials are finished.

This is totally different from Kaede, whose positive outlook and outgoing attitude already makes her fairly likable to most of the others, but who also openly invites the others to rely on her once she establishes herself as a leader figure fairly quickly in chapter 1. Most of the other characters latch onto her almost immediately, either because she seems so reliable and helpful (Saihara and Tenko in particular seem to like this about her), or because they can’t help but respect her and what she’s trying to do for the group (characters like Momota, who really values group cooperation, come to mind).

Personally, I think Ouma fell into the latter category. He and Kaede have something of a complicated relationship almost right from the get-go in chapter 1, but it’s still pretty clear that Ouma did respect Kaede a lot and recognized that she had the group’s best interests at heart, even if he didn’t always agree with her methods.

Likewise, I think Kaede was somewhat curious about Ouma and really wanted to get along with him, despite how difficult he could be. We see in Ouma’s introduction, both in the demo and the actual game, that Kaede clearly recognizes on some level that part of his annoying attitude is really just his way of teasing others, and that he doesn’t seem particularly malicious. More specifically, she describes him as “having a childish streak that makes him hard to hate,” which is a pretty spot-on description of Ouma in a nutshell. In short, she knew he was annoying and childish (on purpose, most of the time) but she definitely didn’t think of him as evil or cruel. This may in part also be because she didn’t live long enough to see him embrace the fake villain routine by the end of chapter 4, of course.

Ouma has a few teasing remarks throughout most of the game, but it’s not really until the death road of despair is discovered that he and Kaede butt heads for the very first time. This is because of a big, fundamental difference between their ideologies: while both of them very much have the group’s best interests at heart, they completely disagree when it comes to whether it’s worth it to cooperate as a team or not.

By the end of the game, Ouma is extremely paranoid, refusing to cooperate with absolutely anyone unless it’s out of some mixture of chance and necessity (such as working with Momota in chapter 5). He keeps all his cards close to the chest, and refuses to confide in or trust any of his remaining classmates, believing it’s fully possible any of them could be the ringleader.

But before the events of chapter 4, we see that he’s actually not opposed to the idea of selective cooperation. He strikes up a tentative collaboration with Miu early on, commissioning her to create some extremely useful inventions with the intent of using them to try and end the killing game. He also extends an invitation of cooperation to both Kaede (in one of her FTEs) and Saihara (in chapter 4, in the parlor of the VR world), though he goes about this in such a sly, underhanded, and off-putting way that both of them shoot his offer down flat. Even he’s not beyond the idea of teaming up with people he perceives as “useful” or “smart,” as long as it’s a much smaller, one-on-one effort rather than trusting or working with the entire group.

By contrast, Kaede is someone who believes that group unity is almost a necessity if they want to escape the killing game. This is very much in line with the role she establishes for herself as a leader. Unlike characters like Momota, who has always sort of longed to embrace a “hero” role, or Saihara, who is considerably more awkward and unwilling to be a leader because of how guilty he feels, Kaede’s role is much more about boosting and maintaining the group’s morale.

This is lampshaded several times by the classical music pieces that she references, often in an attempt to either clam the others down or fire them up at the idea of working together and escaping. It’s also a fantastic little clue that her own positive outlook is something a bit more crafted than it seems on the surface; she always tries to be optimistic about things and face her problems head-on, but that’s in large part because she tries to energize herself and present that reliable, dependable persona to the rest of the group. In short, she believes that if she reveals her own uncertainty or lack of faith in her plans, the rest of the group’s trust and morale will fall too.

Like I mentioned, this difference in their outlook is really what begins to cause problems for them once they discover the death road of despair in chapter 1. Kaede sees the tunnel as their one opportunity to escape without having to rely on the killing game itself; even if it’s extremely difficult and damn near impossible to get through it, the chance of injury is a risk she’s willing to take, no matter how many times they have to start over. But Ouma disagrees with this mindset and criticizes her in front of the entire group, pointing out how everyone else is already exhausted and even injured, and saying that she has no right to make that decision for the rest of them.

He even goes a step further and accuses her of strong-arming the rest of them by “denying them the right to give up in an impossible situation.” He claims that by positing herself as an inspirational figure, she has the “moral high-ground” no matter what the rest of them do or say, and clearly doesn’t think it’s possible for them to continue down the death road without someone getting seriously injured, or worse.

These harsh words really take Kaede aback, especially since most of the rest of the group seems to more or less agree with Ouma. She’s extremely hurt—not just by the fact that no one seems to really want to keep going with her plan, but also, I think, because she felt as if Ouma was right on some level. In my opinion, this is why she cries once she’s alone in her room later: because she did feel as though she’d forced everyone else to go along with an unreasonable plan. It’s the first time that we really see the cracks in her leader persona beginning to show, as well as the self-doubt that she carries.

I honestly think many people who dislike Ouma on their first playthrough of the game may have started here, right at this moment. Because so much of this seems to be fairly black-or-white initially—Kaede is presented as the unequivocally good heroine, trying to get everyone to work together and escape, and Ouma by contrast seems mean and unreasonable for arguing with her in front of everyone. We’re not supposed to linger on the fact that he makes several good points about everyone else’s safety and exhaustion because how he goes about it is off-putting and unlikable.

Not only that, but we as first-time players aren’t supposed to know about all the similarities that Ouma and Kaede actually have in common, despite their differences on the matter of group cooperation. We’re not supposed to know just yet that they both want to save the group, no matter what it takes, or that both of them are willing to go to extreme, sometimes morally grey measures in order to try and stop the killing game. We’re not supposed to know right away that Ouma can be every bit as self-sacrificing as Kaede, despite the selfish things that he says in front of the others, or that when push comes to shove, Kaede is willing to lie almost as much as he is.

We don’t know any of that, initially—which is why that scene hits so hard and sets Ouma up to be so unpleasant. But I think going back on a replay and evaluating it again is pretty interesting specifically because of all these similarities that I’ve listed. The fact that they clash here is especially interesting, given the sort of roles they embody to the rest of the group, with Kaede deliberately choosing to be someone that the entire group relies on and finds trustworthy, while Ouma later sets himself up to become a villain who’s hated by everyone. And despite this, their goals are largely one and the same: expose the ringleader and end the killing game.

I think it’s specifically because Kaede realized she couldn’t continue pushing everyone to do the things she wanted them to, no matter how badly she wanted everyone to cooperate and escape together, and that’s ultimately why she turns to Plan B when she hears from Saihara about the bookshelf hiding the ringleader’s lair in the library. And for all that she does want to trust and cooperate with everyone else, she actually goes about this plan in the most Ouma-like way possible: by doing everything herself and without telling anyone her real intentions, not even Saihara.

Something I especially like about Kaede as a character is just how nuanced she is. Because she is simultaneously the brave, trustworthy, outgoing protagonist that we see her as, but she’s also so, so much more than that. She’s fiercely determined and cares about everyone else, yes, but it’s also because she cares so much that she’s willing to do things like lie and attempt murder behind everyone else’s back.

If we look at the audition videos as any sort of clue as to what the characters might’ve been like before the start of the game, I do think there was a somewhat more skeptical, cynical side of Kaede deep down that didn’t quite trust other people—and that’s all the more reason she wanted to trust them and work together with all of them, because she knew exactly how hard it was to do so. It’s such an interesting contrast from Ouma, who could easily have used all his lies and charm to cooperate with people if he wanted to, but who instead continually pushes people away because of his skepticism, all the while pretending to act completely arrogant and self-assured in his plans. Deep down, I think both of them were much more vulnerable than they were ever willing to show in front of other people.

And I think by the end of chapter 1, Ouma became more or less aware of that side of Kaede, once she confesses everything she tried to do to end the killing game. Prior to this, I personally think Ouma still very much liked and respected her guts and her attempts at leading the group, but that he ultimately thought she was doomed by her reliance on trust and cooperation when they didn’t even know who the ringleader was within their group. But I think that after hearing just how far she was willing to go to stop the killing game, including but not limited to lying to everyone else and going behind their backs with her own plan, he couldn’t help but respect her even more. Despite his accusations that she was too soft or naïve for trusting everyone else, her actual attempted solution was far closer to his own outlook than he initially gave her credit for.

This is why, just before Kaede is about to be executed, Ouma drops all of his usual acts and facades with her and gives her a sincere goodbye, telling her that she “wasn’t boring.” And this is really the highest compliment someone like Ouma can give: she did take him by surprise and surpass all his expectations from her, and I do believe he was genuinely sad to see her go when she attempted such a huge sacrifice for everyone else’s sakes.

Truly, the only part of her plan that I think he disagreed with was the act of (attempted) murder in and of itself. He felt that despite her good intentions, she had “crossed a line” that shouldn’t be crossed, and that she fell into the ringleader’s trap the moment the idea of murder crossed her mind. Considering how much DICE’s “no murder” taboo guided Ouma throughout the game, it’s not surprising at all that this is where he disagreed with Kaede. Though ironically, he himself crosses the same line in chapter 4 when he decides the only possible solution to Miu’s attempt on his life is to kill her himself, and therefore winds up getting his hands dirty without ever directly committing murder, much like Kaede herself.

Questioning how they might’ve gotten along if Kaede had actually lived past chapter 1 and continued being the game’s protagonist is interesting, mainly because so many factors would change as a result. Kaede and Saihara are so fundamentally different as protagonists, and Kaede herself is much more in line with what we would expect from a Hope’s Peak protagonist instead. Kodaka himself has described her in an interview as being extremely similar to Asahina, and I personally think she’s something of a combination between Asahina’s outgoing attitude and Maizono’s carefully crafted façade (not to mention moral ambiguity). So it stands to reason that the game and its themes wouldn’t quite be the same if Kaede were still the protagonist.

On the one hand, I do think there would be interesting potential for a possible alliance between her and Ouma, especially given how similar they could both be. Ouma himself proposes such an alliance to her in one of his FTEs, though she does get angry and shoots him down, as I mentioned earlier. But it’s interesting to consider if Kaede might’ve been more willing to cooperate in smaller, one-on-one alliances if she had attempted her plan in chapter 1 and failed without getting executed for it.

There’s also the fact that Ouma claims to remember her and everyone else adamantly in his FTEs with her, even going so far as to claim that she and everyone else forgot about him, even though he never forgot about them. It’s unclear whether he’s referring to his memories from before the game still being intact (which is likely, since he’s pretty skeptical of the flashback lights right away), or if there’s some other explanation for it, but personally, I don’t think it can be dismissed as a complete lie. Even if Kaede herself accuses him of lying and making it all up, he goes uncharacteristically blank and claims that “even he’s not that good at lying.”

This adds huge potential to Kaede sticking around, as there could easily be an underlying mystery element. In addition to the trials themselves and the mystery of the outside world, it’d be very possible to explore their dynamic further, as well as why Ouma said the things he did and if he was actually telling the truth about knowing her and everyone else from before. Kaede is absolutely persistent enough that I feel like she would’ve pressed him for details about this, especially once it became clear in the main plot that their memories were unreliable.

On the other hand, it’s really unclear if Ouma would’ve still been willing to offer that alliance to Kaede once she had attempted to commit murder. Assuming the events of chapter 1 stay more or less the same and the only difference is that Kaede survives instead of getting executed, this raises some potential problems with Ouma actually working together with her or trusting her. She did, as he puts it, “cross the line”—even if her murder attempt wasn’t successful, Ouma claims that she was already too far gone the moment she even considered murder as a possible solution. This could definitely cause another clash of opinions between them, especially as Ouma is much too paranoid to work directly with anyone who he thinks might kill him.

Another potential source of conflict in my opinion is the Hope’s Peak flashback light in chapter 5. Unlike Saihara, who deals primarily with questions of “truth or lies” and is ultimately able to see through Tsumugi’s false ultimatum in chapter 6 with the choice of either the “hope ending” or “despair ending,” Kaede is, as I mentioned, much more in line with what you’d expect from a Hope’s Peak protagonist. She’s extremely smart of course, but she has a bit of a reckless, headstrong streak where she tends to act based on emotion rather than reason, and this could get her into quite a lot of trouble once Tsumugi started rewriting everyone’s memories in chapter 5.

Saihara was able to see that both of the choices Tsumugi presented in the final trial were bullshit and would ultimately keep the cycle of Danganronpa ongoing, but I’m not entirely sure if Kaede would realize the same thing, or even if she did eventually realize it, I’m not sure it would’ve been in time to stop it. Because of her self-sacrificing nature, I personally think she would’ve chosen to be one of the sacrifices for the sake of “hope,” much like Amami presumably did in season 52. This ultimately means that Kaede sticking around might have ultimately led to a “bad end” of sorts, where even if the rest of the group went free aside from her and one other sacrifice, Danganronpa itself never gets dismantled and lives to see another season.

The only possible way I see for Kaede to avoid falling into this trap and making this choice is if enough of her classmates rubbed off on her or helped her see things in less black-or-white terms like “hope” or “despair,” and in more nuanced shades of grey instead. But considering how completely fooled almost everyone was in the actual events of the game, it’s difficult to say if this would happen. She would definitely need to talk and debate with someone who viewed the flashback lights a lot more skeptically, whether it was Saihara or Ouma (or maybe even Angie), before she could reach the truth about what Tsumugi and Team Danganronpa were really after.

This analysis has gotten pretty long by this point, so I’ll just wrap things up by saying that I really do love Kaede and Ouma’s friendship, and I think they had more potential of getting along than either of them might’ve realized in canon. Despite their fundamental differences, both of them were two characters who went farther than almost anyone else in trying to stop the killing game, and both of them weren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty if necessary. I think the fact that Ouma claims to remember Kaede and everyone else from before the killing game is super interesting, and I would’ve absolutely loved to see it touched on more if Ouma had lived longer.

All in all, Kaede is such an amazing, morally grey character who really helps to establish what we can expect from the rest of the game, and I think that’s part of what makes her so memorable. Maybe one day we’ll get some sort of DR:IF equivalent where we get a semi-canon look into a scenario where everyone lives, and hopefully there we could see not only more of Kaede being a protagonist figure, but also more of her interactions with Ouma and everyone else.

[evakuality]

Hanna, episode 8

1.  I know I’ve said it before, but these scenes with Hanna and Mia are so super gay.  Part of me still really really wishes that they’d gone there - I like the Jonas/Hanna reunion in s4 well enough (if we ignore the absolute travesty of stealing time from Amira), but I’d have really loved if Mia and Hanna had been the thing instead of adding in a random extra character for no reason.  Imagine the potential....  Also, Alex is still the worst.  Like I know he’s the worst because William was the worst.  But he’s still the worst.  Gross.  His sleazy manner is so offputting.  I hate that Mia ends up falling for this.  I do hope that unlike the original, Mia doesn’t lose all of who she is herself in her season.

2.  Ugh, I forgot how irritating Kiki is.  I really really like her by the later seasons (particularly in s5) but man in these early times she was not so great.  I know Kiki thinks they’re all being punished because Leonie hates Hanna, but as I said before Amira and Mia weren’t even with Hanna at that point, so that’s not likely.  Kiki’s need for control and to be liked is really coming out in some unpleasant ways.  This whole ‘what Hanna does reflects on our crew’ is so... bleh.  With every word Kiki gets more and more toxic, and then starting in on Amira as well, and wondering why she’s the bad guy?  She’s a young kid and she has this desperation to fit in and be cool and liked etc and I get that she’s not a dreadful person at the end of the day.  But she really needs to grow up.  Particularly given that she literally pursued Alex when he’s not exactly a saint about all this sort of stuff.  One thing I do love about this bit with Amira (and she repeats it when she speaks to Matteo in s3, which is a nice bit of character continuity), is how she leans forward and speaks very forcefully to Kiki as she explains her point of view.  The camera is tight up in her face, or rather she moves into it, and it doesn’t let Kiki or the audience move away.  And the call to prayer is a lovely touch right after, reminding of the ‘Muslim gangster world’ and what that’s really like.  Kiki needs to step out of her own sphere and realise that other people have their own thoughts and feelings and things aren’t always what she thinks they are.  Poor Hanna is suffering a lot, and instead of supporting her, Kiki chooses to pile on, focusing on her own ‘pain’ at the situation.  Which, in context, is really really petty.  And then she acts like she’s the hurt party?  Grow up, child.

3.  This little scene with Jonas is so painful.  The acting here is really nice.  Jonas’s sadness and hurt is so palpable, as is Hanna’s anxiety and tension.  It’s all so awkward and painful, and the way it’s shot with Jonas always at a distance and never really looking at Hanna just makes that all the more intense.  And I mean, I know Jonas is hurting and I know it’s hard for him, but this whole bit about how Hanna has no personality of her own is so mean.  In some ways he’s right (and correct me if I’m wrong, but in the original it was Eva herself who says this bit to her Jonas - I don’t recall every detail of Eva’s season as well as I’d like so this may be wrong, but what I remember is something similar to this line as part of why she choose to end it at the end, and if so I don’t really know that I like this change; it’s better from the character herself as a realisation).  But even if he’s right, it’s a bit unfair.  He told her to go and be someone outside of him, and now he’s like ‘I don’t know you at all’ and it’s really frustrating because I still don’t feel like ‘make out’ is an accurate description of what happened, and Sam is really the one who was pushing and pushing, and yet all the blame is being set on Hanna.  He says it’s not because of that, but of course it is.

4.  I always cringe at these scenes where the Eva character gets ‘slut shamed’ and basically panics.  It’s so hard to watch them go through it, and in so many ways this is the hardest episode for them.  Hanna is at a nadir.  Yes, Mia, Sam and Amira defended her, but with the tension with Kiki that support is falling apart, and then Jonas told her to call him when she gets a personality (harsh!!), and now she has someone in the school sending her messages in period blood.  It’s all pretty shitty.  And Kiki almost word for word repeating Jonas’s accusation about knowing ‘what kind of girl’ she is.  It’s totally understandable that she wants to get away from all of this stuff.

5.  Then this shot of her at the bottom of the stairs.  Distanced and lonely, and it’s even worse than it was at the start of the show.  Then, at least she was outside and had space around her, and the colours were much happier.  Here she’s closed, in, boxed out by stairs and the walls etc and it’s this dark, gloomy colour set.  There’s a bar of light, but she’s not even in it, she’s to the side of it, like she can’t even let herself have that.  Then we cut to literally seeing her through the bars of the stairs, like she’s imprisoned, which is effectively what everyone in the school is doing to her.  I do like the change that Matteo is here in person for this ‘you shouldn’t change schools’ talk.  There’s something about the interaction that changes when they have to do it face to face.  And yes Hanna, my love.  You start getting angry that people keep trying to tell you who you are.  Matteo’s lines here really do feel more like an overt attempt at reverse psychology than Isak’s did.  Again, I assume this is because we still didn’t know about Isak at all.  Whereas Matteo still feels more cynical and calculated.  His attitudes and the way he’s approached Hanna have felt different.  It’s really interesting to consider where his head is at in this season given just how low and disconnected we see him at the start of his own.  I guess when he’s called out for it over the next little bit it does change things a bit.  Plus of course the way his own life is about to be hit.

6.  The Hanna and Leonie talk is really interesting.  Up til now, Leonie has seemed much more dominant and Hanna much more timid.  And that’s been partly the way it’s filmed - they’re sitting or Leonie is placed above Hanna.  But here, Hanna looms over Leonie, quite literally, and it’s good to see her start to stand up for herself.  Leonie’s mannerisms are the same but they aren’t having the same effect.  And that’s partly because Hanna is at her lowest ebb.  While she seemed lost and lonely at the start of the season, that’s nothing on where she is now - now, she really has nothing left to lose so she can have this conversation and look!  Direct communication actually worked!  She got the results she wanted.  Also interesting is the choice to put Leonie in white and shoot against this wall - she looks diminished and washed out even after they were put back on the same level when they sit.  Until now it’s been hard to sympathise with her.  Yes, we know she’s been hurt, but she’s been so awful with it.  But it’s so clear here just how much of a toll all this has taken on her too.  And it’s so painful to watch Hanna have to admit to the things she did that have ruined so many of her relationships.  And the business with wishing we can change things but not being able to - it’s so human (and also this scene is so incredibly well acted!) and it sucks to have to admit that we can’t do anything about what we’ve done in the past.

7.  Somehow this bit with Jule doesn’t hit the way it does in Eva’s season.  I think it’s a combination of the way they’ve chosen to portray Jule - she seems a lot more standoffish - and the fact that Matteo has been a bit sketchy the whole time, with some clear hints that he’s not all he seems to be.  Also, possibly, because we do have Skam as a reference and so we did already know where this was going.  Either way, this last part of the scene falls flat after the very emotional bits with Leonie.  

Overall, I find this episode a lot more fluid than the previous one.  But this last day’s clips must have been a whole lot when watching live.  Poor Hanna goes through the ringer on this one day.  The way this one is lit is really interesting as well.  It’s either dark shadows or it’s really bright light, almost harsh with sun etc almost washing things out.  It’s an episode of extremes, which I guess is the point.  Hanna is going through some extreme emotions here, and the surroundings do tend to reflect that.

[captlok]

Pacifism Isn’t A Character Trait

Or: MLK Day is Upon Us so Let Me Do You a Learn

Or: As An Aang Stan I Got a Bit Over-Zealous But Lemme Explain Why For A Hot Minute

Plus some History and Tumblr commentary that even non-ATLA fans can chew on

And by ‘hot minute’ I do mean this is going to be a long meta, so strap in.  For those of you who just might be tuning into this debacle, I, a person who has not used Tumblr, much at all, except for the last half year, ran into some trouble. 

If you wanna skip the whole TLDNR interpersonal stuffs and get straight to Why Aang is the Best Thing Since Sliced Bread, I will embolden the relevant parts, and italicize the crit of Korra, if you want that alongside.

I was excited that ATLA was seeing a resurgence due to the Netflix remake. I wasn’t even trying to apply any steep expectations for it. (learned not to do that the hard way with the last live action adaption, and to a much lesser extent, ATLOK, since it had good . . . elements, *ba dum tsshh*) 

So, these are a couple aspects of the issue: (1) Even on the internet, I am extremely introverted and until recently mostly came for content, not socializing. My main online interactions thus far have been in forums and artist-to-artist on DA. Tumblr is still very strange to me because it splits up its ‘threads’ so you can’t see all the replies if a certain pattern of users responds in their own space. I’m not even 100% sure it’s in chronological order, and replies are not nested next to each other so you can look in the comments and someone will be replying to something you can’t see in that window. And also since it is a bizarre hybrid of a blogging system, posts are somehow considered ‘owned by’ or an ‘extension of’ OP in a way forum threads are not. (2) ATLOK was good in a cinematic and musical way, to be sure. It also had some good concepts. I can go into it just appreciating it for the worldbuilding and be somewhat satisfied. But the execution was terrible. I was on AvatarSpirit.Net for years, and If I had maintained my presence on ASN to current day and had gotten around to downloading their archive now that the forum is dead, I would include some links to other peoples’ detailed analyses on just how flawed both the plotting and Korra’s frustratingly flat learning curve was especially in the first two seasons. But, that is a task for another day, and only if people are interested. 

No, what I’m addressing today, on the issue of Korra as a writing exercise, is how Mike and Bryan said specifically they wanted to make her ‘as opposite to Aang as possible’ and in so doing, muddied the central theme of the original ATLA series.

Now, again, I was mainly an art consumer for my first major round of ATLA fandom. Tumblr is an alien beast to me. But, after I write my first major Aang meta, talking about how amazing it is that he has the attitude he does, and how being content in the face of this overwhelming pain and suffering is an ONGOING PROCESS and an INTENTIONAL DECISION and not a simple PERSONALITY TRAIT, I start hearing that Aang gets a lot of hate from the fandom. Now this would be bad enough if it were merely people not liking his crowning moment of pacifism because they don’t understand the potential utility (I’ll elaborate on that in another post) or the ethics involved.

Aang is easily the most adult member of the Gaang. But he apparently gets hate for his few moments where he actually acts his age, a preteen, and maybe kisses a girl in a historical timeframe in which ‘consent’ discussions were probably nonexistent. Even in the present day, we are still practically drowned in movies that reinforce this kissing without asking trope. And even some female bodied people complain that asking kills the mood! But somehow he is responsible and reprehensible for this, even though the first time she kissed him back. I’m only going to get into the pacifism discussion today, but that was just another layer of annoyance bouncing around in the back of my head.  Other peoples’ crit of Korra that was stewing in my subconscious, plus this Aang bashing, which thankfully I had not directly read much of, made up the backdrop of gasoline for the match that set it off.  Even that seems a pretty melodramatic way to phrase what I actually said, which was: Aang, on the other hand, lost dozens of father figures and was being steamrolled by Ozai who was gloating about genocide TO HIS FACE, yet he still reigned in all that quote, ‘unbelievable rage and pain’ (The Southern Raiders). We Stan Aang, the Superior Avatar. No I did not f**king stutter. #AangSupremacy In another meta, someone complained that I was too defensive of Aang as a character and didn’t apply literary analysis enough, which I quickly rectified.

What set this off? Someone was kind of indirectly praising the line from Korra,  “When I get out of here, none of you will survive” To them it was emotionally resonant or whatever, and I have to point out that no, it was a martial artist not having control of their state of mind, as is the bedrock of the practice. It was never addressed by the narrative, which is a severe oversight.  I had a conversation with someone in the chats, making this distinction between Korra’s character traits and life philosophy. If she were to kill people while enraged and she was fine with that, that’s one thing. But if she regretted it, that’s a whole other kettle of fish. People argue that she comes from a warrior culture, unlike Aang.

Never mind that warrior monks are a thing. That’s what Shaolin monks are. You can be a pacifist and skilled at fighting. Those things are not mutually exclusive, which is the whole point of Bagua, Aang’s style.  And also, Katara’s style. 

That’s one reason I like Kataang so much- their congruent styles. Both of their real world martial arts are dedicated to pacifism, even though ATLA specifically doesn’t spell that out for Katara and her learning arc. 

There was a meta where someone briefly tried to argue that knowing “martial arts” is against pacifism. No. Quite the opposite. I’d argue that you are not a true pacifist unless you know exactly how to handle yourself if someone attacks you.  If you are not in a position to make conscious decisions about how much force to use, rather than merely operating on survival instincts, that is not pacifism. Or at least, not any energy or effort towards pacifism as a practical everyday tool.  I’ve made a few attempts to learn some tai chi and aikido, and it’s improved my physical and mental health, but some other things have gotten in the way. #lifegoals

I’m not going to tag the unfortunate soul whom I was replying to, because they’re probably tired of all this, but I’ll be sending them a PM to say that I’ve made this into a different post, because as I mentioned before, threads are somehow considered “owned” by OP, so it’s been pointed out to me that I should separate it.  I also said, I have basically ZERO respect for Korra uttering violent threats when the writers already minted a far more emotionally devastated and yet still resilient and centered character earlier in their franchise. People always try to excuse away people who genuinely like Aang more.  As if it’s just nostalgia or whatever. For me, no, it’s absolutely not. It is respect for a character who stands toe to toe with real people who are kind in the face of overwhelming injustice. (I have another meta on that). 

Both OP and people in the chats try to make excuses that she wasn’t raised as a pacifist, and that would be fine if they had addressed it with Tenzin and she had stated outright that she was rejecting pacifism and mind training. As it is, we are left with this nebulous affair where the lines between ideology and personality traits are blurred. 

We are told she “has trouble with spirituality” but what does that even mean? Does she have trouble with focus? Does she have trouble relating to the canonically real spirits? And pacifism specifically nor inner peace that it flows from is never even talked about as an extension of spirituality, which is canonically tied to airbending.

“Aang didn't have to deal once with the loss of his autonomy in atla” OP claims.

This was after I had noted that Aang was getting kicked around by Ozai and was most likely going to die.  Similarly, someone in the chat rejected the idea that a 12 year old trapped in a stone sphere that is heating up under a cyclone-sized blowtorch feels powerless. 

Sorry but that’s flat out ridiculous.

No one wants to admit that both of these people were faced with similar situations, and when push came to shove, one showed his LIFE PHILOSOPHY through conscious effort, and the other was abandoning the basis of martial arts, which is, no matter what the situation, keep thinking. Hold the panic at bay. Non-attachment would have served her well in this situation. Tenzin should have told her this. Before, or afterwards. It should have been addressed in the writing.  

People see this as “bashing” Korra, and oh well, can’t help that. If I think the writers didn’t follow through on their themes, that is my concern.  OP said I was “offended.” No, not really. 

I wasn’t offended by the post itself, or its commentary. Thought I made that pretty clear.

This is not dramatics. Let me be blunt.

As a ideological pacifist, and an actual practitioner of meditation, based on Buddhism, NOT just the fan of some show, I am for calling out writers who write one way from the survivor of genocide, and then stray from that ‘thoughtless aggression is immoral no matter HOW hurt I am’ to ‘let’s not address this character’s aggression in the narrative whatsoever.’ OP attempted to derail by accusing me of being racist or sexist against Korra. Also ridiculous. It honestly should have set me off more, but it didn’t. 

Meditation is about reigning in your emotions. Managing your anger when it gets out of hand, and digging down to the roots of it. Being responsible for your own behavoir. Acknowledging ownership of your own actions. Not blaming anything YOU DO on anyone else or any circumstances in your life. Like an adult, or should I say, an enlightened adult.

Or at the very least, that is the ideal ypu strive towards while being imperfect in the present.

. . .

Now.

I’m going to quote a passage in a Google Doc of mine, even though I’d really prefer if you asked to read the whole thing, with context.

“What do humans do when it is necessary to, or greed makes a nation want to recruit?

They go to the army to get trained, right?

Granted, having someone scream and get spittle on your face is, in the grand scheme of things, poor preparation for having bullets whiz past your chest and grenades shatter your ears. And, what do you do to prepare you for the pain of getting your leg blown off? Hopefully, nothing. Like taking a test where you only got half the study guide. But, it’s about the most ethical way to go about it, right?

Not everyone even sees action. So any more more extensive mental preparation for physical pain than that, and you’d have people definitely protesting.

Well, as it turns out, pacifistic protestors themselves, if they were in the right time and place, also very intentionally do this type of mind training. Except, when they did it, they actually did sit still and took turns roughly grabbing each other and throwing each other down and in some cases, even kicking and bruising each other.

Turns out, those pacifists are, in some ways, more hardcore than the army.

Why is this?

Because a pacifist’s aim, unlike a unit, who wants to gain the upper hand in a situation, is to grit their teeth and grind their way through all those survival instincts, and totally submit.

In this, they aim to get the sympathy of the public, who clearly sees they are not aggressive, or a danger, no matter how much the footage is manipulated or suppressed.

In this, they hope to appeal to their attacker’s better nature.

Make them stop and think, wait a second, are these people a threat like we’re told they are? I’m attacking someone who’s letting me beat them up. Or a bunch of people. All forming a line, and letting us peel them off. Or sitting, and bowing their heads. If I’m on the ‘right’ side of things, the law, why am I doing this?

It’s not like a bully, who’s just a kid.” They’re more self-aware.

And might I add the situation influences a pacifist’s actions too. There’s no reason to let a single or a few random attackers beat you up if you can evade or disable without permanent damage.

Pacifism is a dynamic set of responsive actions informed by values. Not a proscribed set or a checklist.

But in terms of organizing against state power, and recording wrongdoing, which unlike during the Civil Rights can happen from all angles from smart phones nowadays, these are the motivations.

“So, the pacifist knows this, and that’s why they go through all that trouble of training themselves to, not only submit, but not turn tail and run, either.”

See, a character trait is something like being a morning person, or ways of handing information, or a given set of emotions a character feels. Once you cross over into actions, you must make the distinction of whether an impulsive character agrees with their own uncontrolled actions, or is embarrassed or remorseful. Those are life philosophy. Now sure, one type of person or character may be more likely to subscribe to pacifism, but there is no gatekeeping on what you have to feel or how you look at things. You can be easygoing, or feel all the rage in the world, but as long as you at least attempt to have a handle on those desires and feelings to where they do not cross into actions, you are still doing the work of metacognition, which is what martial arts and its accompanying mind training are for.

It’s what we see Aang do.

He’s informed us, during the Southern Raiders, on how much rage and pain he feels.

Pain points, TRIGGERS, that were directly struck at when Ozai gloated over him.

He joins with all the past Avatars for several moments, and just like every other time he is in the Avatar State, he is enraged. He wants to exact revenge on the unrepentant grandson of a baby murderer.

We see it when he turns his head away, face still screwed up in anger.

For another example, I could cite my difficulties in being aware and reining in my tongue sometimes. I know the roots of these issues and I seek to let them go.

It’s just that process takes way longer than Guru Pathik would have us assume.

In fact, I would even say that Aang’s portrayal throughout the three seasons is not strictly a realistic representation of at least the sad side of grief. I addressed that a little when I talked about real life figures. But what it IS, is a metaphor that cuts very deep to the heart of pacifism. As I showed in that Doc . . . There is no limit of suffering a pacifist is willing to go through, internal or external, for the preservation of peace.

This was demonstrated during the Civil Rights, and with Gandhi and all his followers beforehand, inspiring them. The pacifists’ method of swaying hearts is probably the reason BLM exists in such numbers as it does today. Will the types of narratives that correspond with their full stories of the way they collectively planned and trained for and approached conflict make it into fantasy media? I’d say, probably not. For a host of reasons.

It could be hoped for, I guess.

But we DO have Aang.

As for myself, whether speaking sharply is an “action,” per se is up for debate- certainly it doesn’t seem to violate the non-aggression principle put forth by the vision of a “stateless society.”

For another example, let’s take my explanation at the beginning. I am examining how circumstances affected my actions, and now am attempting to fix it, if indeed it needs to be fixed. 

At least one person said that it not so much what I said, but how and when I said it. I don’t actually think I’ve said anything “wrong” per se. So I have to figure it out. 

[I’m considering splitting up this next part into a second post, as it only slightly relates to pacifism itself and is just kinda some more commentary on Tumblr itself- Tumblr discourse, as it were]

[I’ll put more brackets when I’m done in case you want to skip this part as well]

An interesting social difference between Tumblr and other places is this command you often get, “don’t chat/reblog/message me back.”

This is interesting for several reasons. For chats and reblogs, other people may be following the “conversation,” so it’s actually pretty rude and presumptuous to tell a person not to respond to whatever you said, because other people watching still may be interested in your take.

In a forum setting, if someone involved in a conversation doesn’t have anything left to say, usually they just don’t respond.

This method would work perfectly fine for Tumblr, but for some reason, maybe its super odd format, probably due to the “ownership”/“extension of self” I mentioned at the beginning of the essay, people don’t tend to do this.

Now, in comment sections, sometimes you’ll run across an amusing sort of “mutually assured destruction” where two people both say this to each other. You’d better stop responding. Omg just give up. Why are you still arguing. Etc.

But see, no matter where this behavoir pops up, and no matter who starts in on it, those who do this usually want to have the last say on the matter.

Instead of merely not replying, they want to assert verbal control over the conversation.

Tumblr, in its weirdness, is also sort of like a mutant comments section. You can post comment section threads as your own post.

Which is one reason why I’m puzzled when people say ‘don’t read the comment sections’ when Tumblr is so popular.

I’m an oddball in that I browse comment sections for fun.

Probably due to alexithymia, I didn’t really comprehend the emotional toll it takes on many people, so the warnings to “stay out of comment sections” read to me like “hey don’t eat that dessert.” After I’m done with the ‘meal’ of an article or art, I like to see what lots of different people have to say about it. The fluff. Anything vitriolic I either blip over, or extract anything useful, or if I judge the person is reasonable enough, I might engage.

Sometimes I mis-judge on how reasonable someone is, and I shrug and move on after being cussed out or whatever.

In this, I suppose I succeed much of the time in being a verbal pacifist.

[But let’s get back to the more serious stuff.]

We’re talking about what is done in life or death situations, here.

For myself, I may in the near future be working more with dangerously mentally ill people. I’ve had a little exposure to it through various means. Nurses are obligated not to retaliate against patients, and those who have, have been fired in some situations. Again oddly, this is not primarily what triggers my anxiety. Unfortunately enough, this requirement has also resulted in nurses getting seriously injured and violated. I hope to influence whether “no harm” techniques such as tai chi and aikido and arm locks may be allowed. The voluntary philosophy I was luckily already on board with is enforced by bureauacracy, directly relevant to my potential profession.

Were someone to get involved in a dangerous profession, such as a police officer, their moral duty would also be to own up to any spur of the moment anger or fear they acted on. 

It’s just that their bureaucracy acts differently, in excusing their actions.

Ideally, they would be taking steps far in advance, to avoid this often-cited fear of death reaction. As training pacifists like Aang do. 

And yes, army people are trained differently than police officers because the army, often, even when threatened, is supposed to avoid engagement or deploy deterrents that are non-lethal almost all costs, unless ordered otherwise. Whereas American police are given pretty much complete discretion and often not taught de-escalation techniques. Even police from other nations are better trained in that regard.

Enter the ironically named @avatarfandompolice whose account description should really speak for itself. Combative, dismissive, and their attention-hungry bread and butter is to find people they think it’s acceptable to ridicule.  They basically tried to say trauma was a valid excuse to take out your anger on other people, and in this situation, potentially kill. 

Now, does this hold up in the real world? Yeah, sometimes. Especially if some law breaker or law keeper has not been given the anger management tools, they perhaps could be excused, or better yet, rehabilitated.

But especially if anyone finds themselves in dangerous situations, or intends to put themselves in such, it falls to them to do this preparation.

As an aphant, I am at a bit of a disadvantage, compared to an average martial artist, being unable to visualize an attacker. But I still attempt it.

As the main “police officer” of the world- the coincidentally blue clad figurehead that is supposed to keep order, it is apparently fine for Korra to not do the work Aang did to keep level. To blow it off as too much trouble: clearing the First Chakra of fear. For herself or others. And its resultant anger. Had she had access to the Avatar State, the authority figure pretty much would have killed people.  This is what the “fandom police” and a certain chat goer ultimately support. Maybe they didn’t understand it that way, and since the second had blocked me, they will also never see this explanation. Unless I were to share it in Google Doc form I suppose.

So, I responded. “Remember kids, you are not responsible for your own behavior if you have the excuse that someone else did something bad to you.” A frighteningly common sentiment on this site.

When it’s low stakes like CAPSLOCKING or internet fights, that’s not such a big deal. But what happens if this attitude leaks into the real world? This isn’t even about Korra or Aang anymore, it’s about toxic mindsets. I didn’t know fans taking pro-Korra posts as anti-Aang was a common in the fandom. I’ll say again I’ve only just gotten really active on Tumblr like the past few months. This is about pacifism itself. MLK and his hardworking, training followers (yes some of them sixteen and POC and not super-powered like Korra) facing down firehoses and staging sit-ins long trained for would shake their heads at this defense of reactionism. 

Pacifism is not a Personality Trait.

It is deliberate actions and preparation taken over a period of time.

Then the “fandom police” tried more of this, and these two conversations ensued, the comments with another user resulting in the title and main thesis of this essay:

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638777472806273024/avatarfandompolice-response-to-my-independent

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638806142933467136/the-plight-was-not-what-i-was-getting-at-it-was

[hypnotica-ships]

I've been so overworked lately, and to relax a bit I'm going to finally give some more info about Heinrich/Henry, my fanchild. Both good and bad.

While Holger and my S/I, Crow, were serving in the Air force as mercenaries, during one of the many mandatory checkups, they had 'blood tests'. Unbeknownst to them, their blood was used in a secret government experiment to try an make super soldiers/clones.

They weren't very successful, only 6 of the subjects managed to survive until the secret project was found out...nearly 10 years after it began.

Even though the experiment was going o for 10+ years, the surviving subjects were closer to babies then 10 year olds. This is due to the extremely long process of making sure the 'embryos' were stable enough to continue on with a normal life cycle.

Thanks to each of the subjects, named Units 01-06, being extremely well documented, it was easy to find out who's DNA was used in which subjects. Effectively giving each 'Unit' a set of biological parents.

Unit 01's document was a bit different than the others. This one seemed to be the best and most successful one of the group, having little to no trouble in the process. It was noted that there were some abnormalities, but they were proven not to be a detriment in his growth, so they were not mentioned too much in 01's document.

Major Guile was made aware of this experiment's discovery. Who after getting all of the details, had to make a very important phone call.

Unit 01's DNA was made via blood samples taken from both Holger and Crow.

As soon as Crow got the very vague phone call from his uncle, he and Holger rushed to the base.

They were greeted by Guile, and then ushered them into a make shift nursery.

Neither one of them were expecting to be introduced to their new son. However, once the initial shock passed, they were accepting of him and immediately gave him a new name. Heinrich, or Henry for short.

Ok, now that that part is out of the way, here are some more randomish ones, not really in a linear story like the above ones.

Pre-Crow's Death and the Events in SF3 (around ages 0-5ish)

His Papa, my S/I, gave him a sunflower pin to wear, since his Pa always calls him his little sunflower due to his brown roots of his blonde hair. Henry calls it his 'lucky charm', and is almost always seen wearing it.

When he gets a bit older and starts to ask questions of where he came from, his parents try to avoid it at first, but eventually explain it to him. They extremely sugar coat it, and make sure that even though he's different, he's extremely loved.

While he's young his hair is pretty flat and straight. His Vater, Holger, likes to keep his hair short since it's a bit easier for Henry to manage at such a young age, but won't stop him from growing it out when he gets older if he wants. He eventually chooses to keep it short when he gets to that point, but his hair starts to curl a little at the ends. This is because his Pa's hair, who usually keeps it long, curls when it gets cut short, so Henry is taking after Crow in this regard.

Post-Crow's Death and During/After the Events of SF3 (mostly in his teenage years)

For some extra info on that, check out this post.

After one of his many training sessions with his Vater, he starts to snoop around the house, due to him trying to find a disguise for when he enters the the tournament. He stumbles into a hidden room with a suitcase filled with Holger's old army gear...and a respirator?

He brings this up to Holger who immediately denies any knowledge of it, until Henry threatens to ask Guile. As soon as Holger is done explaining his past, Henry is angry and confused about it all and storms out of the house. He tries his best to forgive his Vater for all of his crimes, but their relationship is a bit strained for now.

Doesn't stop Henry from stealing some of the before mentioned equipment to use in the tournament.

He has a hard time with controlling his powers. No one but his Pa really understood how they work. It takes a lot of trial and error by himself to get to point where he can consider his powers 'useful'.

During one of said trial and error attempts, he almost blinded himself. He had to get his eyes checked, but he was overall fine.

He frequently blames himself for his Pa's death. 'If i stayed out of the forest, Pa would still be here, he'd still be alive...it's all my fault!' He doesn't let anybody know he blames himself this much though, but anybody who's close to him notices it through his actions.

He has a form of ADHD. He also suffers from a mild delusional disorder, due to the shock and stress he went through when he was present in his Pa's death. (I also read an article that certain disorders like that can be passed genetically. I and my S/I have a very similar disorder, on top of others. Holger definitely has had some type of psychosis as well, among other things. So if I"m to believe said article, those may be factors as well.)

Some point in the future, his close friend and cousin Amy encourages him to find the other Units from the experiment that created him so that he can have some new possible friends. He's against it at first, but it doesn't take long for him to find an ulterior motive in finding them.

Since he accused the wrong man of killing his Pa, maybe one of the other units could help him find the actual murder.

He manages to convince all 5 other units to form a team with him, and hunt down his Pa's killer.

That's all for now, but I'm sure there'll be more in the future. Also sorry this got long, I don't know how to not make things long.

[nonstoplover]

it's all an act ~ Zach Herron (requested)

request: "Can you write a zach x reader fanfic where Zach likes the reader A LOT but doesn't tell her which makes Jack annoyed so he flirts with the reader to get Zach jealous and tell the reader. Tyyyyyyyy" by @mirainthedark05

words: 2.3K

approximate reading time: 15-20 mins

a/n: aye kiddos i gOt A rEquEsT. i'm so happy, i love writing for you guys. i hope this met your expectations, love. i tried really hard. (and please consider the fact that i wrote it at 1am and english is not my main language). i still have to get more into this request writing thing, it's not as easy as it seems! but i do be enjoying it lots so i can't wait to continue doing it!! anyway babes i hope you enjoyed this sweet little nothing i put together. let me know what you think and please send in requests if you have any ideas you'd like to see written!

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Jack's Perspective:

"Zach, you gotta tell her how you feel." I groan at my best friend who's laying on his bed, a frown still on his face from the previous complaint he made about how sad it is that (y/n)'s not his girlfriend.

"I can't," he sighs.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I don't want to lose her, and if she doesn't feel the same way, that's what's gonna happen. I know it," Zach shrugs.

"I already told you that there's a really high chance that she does like you back."

"You can't know that."

"And what if I do?"

"You're just saying things, Jack," he looks up at me, his eyes showing me anger.

"Ugh, you're so infuriating sometimes, Herron." I throw my arms in the air. "Anyway, all I can say to you then is that you shouldn't be surprised if a guy comes in the picture and sweeps her off her feet and you can just watch it happen from the sideline."

I exit the room to escape his stubborn suffering and his sullen huffs follow me in the air as my mind is still racing about how childish he can act at times. I want to help him more than anything, I know how much he likes her and I want him to be happy.

I slump on the couch still deep in thought, trying to come up with an idea to get the truth out of Zach in a way (y/n) can hear it. And as my mind replays the previous conversation, a lightbulb feels to light up inside my head.

A guy comes in the picture and sweeps her off her feet.

Maybe I should make Zach jealous! I have to make him actually realise how easily he can lose any chance he has right now with her. I have to make him fight. Even if it's me he's fighting. I can only hope that he won't be too mad at me.

(y/n)'s Perspective:

"Wow, (y/n), you look absolutely breathtaking today!"

I hear Jack's voice as soon as I enter the boys' house. A blush immediately creeps up onto my cheeks as I mumble a quiet thank you his way.

From the corner of my eyes I can see Zach's head snapping up and when I turn my glance there for a moment I can swear I see him glaring at the other boy, but the next moment it's gone.

Oh what I'd give to hear a compliment like this from Zach, I think as I sit down on the only free space on the couch, between Jonah and Jack, trying not to disturb the videogame the eldest boy played.

As soon as I'm comfortable, Jack moves and easily slides closer to me. My eyes stay focused on the floor as his arm moves uo to rest on the back of the sofa. He's not touching me at all, but still it's like his arm is around my shoulder and it starts to make me nervous.

Does Jack like me?

I hope that's not the case. I like Jack, but only as friends. Though we've never really been that close, and maybe this is the reason. But I just don't want to hurt him if he decides to actually make a move.

He never acted like this before. What has gotten into him?

As I try not to look at anyone, Jack speaks up once more, breaking the silence.

"I wish I was your mirror, so that I could look at you every morning."

My breath hitches in my throat. Did I hear it correct? What is going on? Is this a prank?

"Uhm, thanks, I guess." I glance at him, a small smile making its way to my face as soon as I lock eyes with his shining brown ones that mirror nothing but honesty and some kind of brotherly love, a mixture I already got quite used to from the three oldest boys.

Since I made friends with the band, Jonah, Corbyn and Daniel always seemed to look at me like a newly found little sister (though there's really not much of an age difference between me and them), whilst Jack and I never seemed to totally break the ice yet. We were great friends, but I could still feel the distance between us.

And with Zach? Well, I like him since we first met, but most probably my feelings are not returned. At least that's what all my pointless trying resulted in. He never made a move and whenever I tried to give him a sign, it went unnoticed. Or purposefully ignored. But other than that, he's like my bestest friend, and that's more than I ever imagined to happen so as long as I still have him in my life, I decided that I can manage to put my actual feelings aside.

Now as I'm staring in Jack's eye and I can see that the ice has broken and him and I got to the 'sibling zone', I'm finally sure that he only says these lines to make me laugh, and suddenly I calm down and manage to answer properly. "You're not quite bad yourself," I reach up to playfully ruffle his noodle-like locks.

He chuckles at my action before moving his hand from the back of the couch to my shoulder, pulling me into his side.

I snuggle closer to him, finding a comfortable position on his shoulder for my head. I can feel him take a deep breath in as his shoulder raise in the motion and then his voice is back again.

"It’s said that nothing lasts forever. Will you be my nothing?"

It's my turn to giggle now before I look up at the side of his face. He shoots a quick glance at me before turning his joyful eyes back on something in front of us.

"Do you make these up or did you memorise them from a shitty pickup line listing website?" I ask.

"Oh, hey, don't think I'm not capable of saying things like these by myself," Jack turns his head down towards me with fake offence on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry."

"And there's plenty more where that came from," he wiggles his eyebrow at me.

"I can't wait to hear them all."

I almost burst out laughing, and I can see the exact same thing in his eyes as well, but we manage to stay silent and turn our attention back to the tv screen, watching as Jonah still plays the game.

Jack's fingers mindlessly play with the hem of my t-shirt's sleeve and we're sitting in absolute peace right until a few moments later Zach jumps up from the armchair he was sitting on and storms out of the room.

"Where are you going?" I call out after him, wide eyes staring at the doorway he disappeared at.

"I need some fresh air," he shouts back and even in that short sentence I can hear his anger.

Though before I could ask him about it, the front door slams closed with a loud bang, making my body shake in surprise.

"What has gotten into him?" I look up at Jack only to feel even more confused a second later.

His eyes shine with excitement instead of the worry similar to mine I expected to see.

"What?" I ask in confusion.

When I get no reply, I turn around to look at Jonah, but it's pointless as he's still deeply concentrating on the game, not noticing the mundane things happening around him.

I look back at the curly haired boy before shaking my head. "I think I'll go check on him."

"Yeah, great idea!" Jack nods vigorously right away and I frown at him, still trying hard to understand what has gotten into him as well.

His smile and shining eyes don't halt for a single moment as he's watching me and in the end I simply shrug, moving to stand up and follow the youngest band member.

I find him only a couple seconds later, he's sitting on the stairs in front of the front door.

"Hey," I say as gently as I can manage.

Zach mumbles something in response, but it's absolutely incomprehensible.

"How are you?" I try to make him speak up, maybe even fill me in with the reason(s) behind his weird and sudden storming out.

"Do you like him?" He asks back immediately, confusing me even more.

"Who?" I frown at him in thought.

"Jack."

"Yeah, of course, he's pretty nice." I nod, still not understanding where he wants to go with this.

I can feel his body stiffen next to mine and glancing down I can see his fists so tightly squeezed that the knuckles are turning white.

"If my opinion even matters, I don't think you should get together with him." Zach speaks a minute later.

I almost choke on air as his words enter my mind.

"Why would I even want to get together with him?" I exclaim after managing to kinda pull myself together from the shock his question caused in me.

"You just said you like him." Zach finally turns his head towards me, a frown crossing his forehead.

"Yeah, as friends. Or as a brother. I thought you meant it like that."

"What? No," he shakes his head multiple times

"No?" I ask back, not understanding what he's trying to say with it. "He's like a brother to me, and I'm like a sister to him. What do you mean 'no' ?"

"But... you were flirting." Zach points towards the house above his shoulder.

"Yeah, as a joke." I say, still not really knowing where he wants to go with this.

"So you don't like like him?"

"No, I never did." I almost laugh out loud by the strange image his accusation generates in my mind before mumbling something else so quiet I don't think he can hear me. "I mean, I like someone else, how could I like him?"

"You like someone else?" He repeats and my cheeks immediately start growing red by the fact he heard it and now asks about it.

"Yeah," I mumble again.

"You never told me." Zach says in a playful, joyous tone, but I know him well enough to hear the tension in his voice. "I thought we were best friends."

"It never really came up." I shrug shyly. "So what's up with you? What made you storm out of the house?"

"No, no, wait. Who do you like?" Zach ruins my plan to divert the subject within a second.

I take a deep breath and look in his eyes. He seems nervous.

"It's you, dumbass, in case you haven't noticed." I manage to answer without my voice breaking and eyes moving away.

"Me?" He asks back, and all of a sudden his whole face starts shining as a huge grin spreads across his face, eyes open wide and glimmering with happiness.

I nod, my heart suddenly beating really loud and fast. "Why?" My voice is so high pitched by now it's like a mouse is speaking.

Zach bursts out laughing and grabs my hand before moving to stand on his knees in front of me, slowly calming himself down.

And just as he quietens, my heart feels like to be getting only louder and louder as it frantically beats. The world aroubd us seems to freeze and go absolutely silent as we're staring at each other.

"I like you too," Zach confesses and it's like the world stops spinning in this very moment. "Half the time I got too embarrassed to say anything about it. I was afraid you don't feel the same and that I'd only ruin our friendship."

"I like you ever since I met you."

"Good, me too."

We grin at each other and as the world's noise slowly starts to come back, we're gripping each other's hand in a comfortable silence, finally having said our feelings out loud.

"Finally, guys, I started to think I'd never see this happen." I suddenly hear a happy exclaim coming from above us, from the front door of the house.

I spin around to smirk at Jack whose wide smile seems to split his face in two.

"You planned this, didn't you? It was all an act." Zach says.

"No shit, Sherlock." Jack chuckles back at the younger boy.

We both stand up and walk up the stairs to be next to him, our fingers still interlaced, slowly swinging back at forth between us.

When we reach Jack, he immediately pulls his best friend into a hug. "I told you so," he whispers in his neck loud enough for me to hear it and I just shake my head, watching the two of them interact.

"I'm glad for you, guys." Jack says as they part and we make our way back inside the house.

"Why, what happened?" Jonah asks from the couch, still playing the video game.

"Zach finally confessed to (y/n)."

"No way! Really?" The eldest boy immediately pauses the game and jumps up, smiling at us wide. "We were all rooting for you two."

I shyly smile at him in response before I feel Zach gently tug at my arm.

"Let's go upstairs, I think we have a lot of things to talk about," he says and I nod, a giggle of disbelief escaping my mouth as I think about how I never expected this to happen when I came over to their house.

As we're making our way up the stairs, suddenly Jack's voice fills the air again as he exclaims to Jonah, making all three of us chuckle.

"I can't wait till Corbyn and Daniel gets home and I can tell them the news. I finally have a couple bets that I won!"

.::the end::.

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[louiserandom]

I hear someone is taking prompts! How about MadaTobi, for whatever reason is most hilarious to you, getting stuck in a bathtub together.

creativity in times of crisis

Rating: M

Summary: Madara and Tobirama are stuck in a bathtub together.

It’s all their stupid brothers’ fault.

Read on AO3 or under the cut :3

“This,” Madara hisses, “is all your brother’s fault.”

“And your brother’s idea,” Tobirama points out. “Mine just provided the means to carry it out.”

“Nothing you say is going to keep me from killing him with fire and then decapitating him,” Madara growls, testing the restraints, again, though it was pretty obvious after their tenth attempt that they weren’t going to get out of this unless they explicitly complied with Hashirama’s wishes. “And Izuna, for that matter. Who needs brothers anyway.”

Normally, Tobirama would roll his eyes at Madara’s dramatics and jest about the inherent stupidity and crudeness of his statement. Normally, though, he wasn’t tied to Madara with thick, apparently semi-conscious Mokuton vines keeping them back-to-back in a godsdamned bathtub as Izuna’s idea of putting him and Madara in a corner to think about what they’ve done.

They’ve literally done nothing—except shout for a bit, and possibly hit each other a few times, and maybe lead to the partial destruction of the central market with a couple of overpowered jutsu. Such things happen, though, and are easily fixable, as Tobirama knows all too well from his frequent lab accidents. But no, Izuna had to propose locking them up together until they apologized to each other, and Hashirama had to take it one step further and render them motionless.

In a bathtub.

Honestly, Hashirama’s overreaction is bordering on impolite and as such, Tobirama allows himself a bit of self-indulgence.

“Agreed,” he says, “and I’m not trying to quell your homicidal tendencies for once but do leave Anija to me.” Were the Mokuton vines not suppressing his chakra, Tobirama would have flooded the room with killing intent, but for now has to contend with vivid imagery of Hashirama’s suffering as a satisfying anticipation of vengeance. “What I don’t get is the redundancy of cremation and decapitation done in succession.”

“Hm. You’re right,” Madara actually agrees with him. Truly, an event worthy of the history books. “I’ll decapitate him, then burn him with my Majestic Destroyer Flame,” he says cheerfully. “Izuna, I mean. You can have the overgrown tree.”

As if in answer, the Mokuton squeezes them tighter, making them almost wheeze, before returning to its previous state.

“Dumbass Senju!” Madara bellows, as Tobirama utters a heartfelt, “Fuck you, Anija.”

A spark of what feels like derision radiates from the Mokuton before quickly flickering away.

Madara and Tobirama both groan.

“Maybe the Hiraishin can work?” Madara pleads.

“We’ve established that this thing blocks everything save for our sensing,” Tobirama says, sighing in frustration. “Besides, I’ve tried every which way to activate it. Anija is sneaky. He’s an idiot but still a shinobi.”

Tobirama feels the pangs of Madara’s anger as he broods for a few torturous minutes before blurting out,

“I’m still not apologizing first, because that was a dick move that you pulled, and you owe me one.”

“What a ‘dick move,’ Madara,” Tobirama’s voice leaks sarcasm, “to imply that you harbor affection for cats.”

“You didn’t imply shit.” Unable to learn his lesson, Madara thrashes against their bonds once more in an attempt to physically assault Tobirama, apparently. “You all but fucking cooed over me and made fun of me in public, Senju, and you compared me to a godsdamned kitten!”

Tobirama turns out for a part of the ensuing rant, wondering whether this talent of Madara’s to shout continuously for extended periods of time—all in a single breath, too—is an ability inherent to all Uchiha, or just him.

Probably the latter.

“My hair is nothing like that messy, spiky monstrosity on that fucking fluffball,” Madara goes on shrieking, “and I am not cute!”

That marks the end of his rant, and really, Tobirama would take offence if only at the fact that Madara dared call a perfectly adorable kitten a monstrosity.

“Did you really have to resort to fistfights and fireballs to argue that point, koibito?”

“Yes, and don’t you call me that until you beg for my forgiveness,” Madara grumbles, blessedly quieter this time.

Tobirama scoffs. “Deal with it however you wish, Uchiha, I stand by my words.”

Madara growls. “If anything, I am handsome.”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause.

“And beautiful, some might say,” Madara goes on, tone cautious.

“Of course, Madara.” Tobirama wouldn’t dream of arguing; he’s reminded of that fact every day as he awakens to Madara’s lovely smile.

“And… uhm… physically appealing—”

“Just say sexy, Madara. And yes, you are.”

“And,” Madara says, trying to shift against him but only making them tilt stiffly towards the wall, “definitely not cute. Just admit that, Senju, and it’ll do. And—ugh—I can’t glare at you. But know I am, in fact, glaring at you. With extreme disapproval.”

Tobirama can’t hold back a chuckle. “Fine, Madara, you aren’t cute,” he concedes, waiting just enough to hear Madara’s contented hum before saying, “you’re mind-meltingly adorable.”

“FUCK YOU, SENJU!” Madara’s peak volume is music to Tobirama’s ears. “I HATE YOU, YOU MASSIVE DICK!”

Tobirama can only do so much to keep his chuckles from turning into full-fledged laughter, and this finally breaks him. It’s a testament to how truly peaceful their lives have become in this village they’ve build, that they’re an hour into a ridiculous lockdown arguing about the level of Madara’s cuteness—or lack thereof.

Just two years ago, when the interclan war was still raging, this would have seemed impossible.

And yet, here they are.

“Mine’s getting hard,” Tobirama makes for a diversion. “You know it turns me on when you’re pissed off.”

“W-wh-what?”

Tobirama can only imagine the expression on Madara’s face. Priceless.

“I said—”

“I heard what you said, Senju!” Madara moves them an incremental bit again before sagging and giving up with an explosive sigh. “Not. The time.”

“Calmed you down, didn’t it?” Tobirama smirks.

“Fuck you.”

“I’d rather you do that.”

“Then apologize.”

And because Tobirama is never going to apologize for the truth, they both fall into belligerent silence.

“We’ll be stuck here forever, then,” Madara says some time later. “Dick.”

Because Tobirama is a man of his word, he stays silent, knowing his Anija would never actually let them die without food and water, at least. Too bad boredom might kill them far, far sooner.

“D’you think they’ve figured out,” Madara says suddenly, “that we realized we’ve been mistaking sexual tension for killing intent and aren’t seriously trying to maim each other these days?”

Tobirama attempts to shrug, unsuccessfully. “We’ve been careful. And the notion of fighting and liking each other at the same is definitely not something Anija can comprehend,” he laments. “Izuna may suspect something. After all, it would have been more logical to suggest locking us up separately, so we’d cool down quicker.”

“That bastard,” Madara mutters.

“Your brother,” Tobirama reminds him.

“And look what yours did!” Madara accuses in turn, making them sway a little. “I hate everything.”

Something clicks in Tobirama’s head.

“You know what,” he says, “you’re right. I should apologize.”

Ignoring Madara’s confused spluttering, Tobirama looks down to the vines wrapped around his arms and body, focusing all his attention and thoughts on them in hopes to convey what he wants.

“Uh, Anija’s Mokuton?” he starts, noting how the roots seem to stiffen as if in attention. “I’ve decided to apologize to Madara, and I believe it more productive to the, uh, apology process if I am able to do it face-to-face.” Tobirama praises himself for making it sound sincere. “As friends,” he adds.

The Mokuton vibrates with minute pulses of energy, as if considering his words, before unfurling a bit, even as it still keeps their limbs in its chakra-suppressing clutches and rearranges them so they’re sitting cross-legged facing each other.

The shock on Madara’s face is glorious to behold. As is the godawful (but still somehow appealing) tangled mess his mane had become from their scuffles.

“How?” Madara asks.

Tobirama has finally regained his ability to shrug. “Anija did say it’s partially sentient,” he says. The Mokuton sprouts another thin vine that pokes him in the chest, as if to remind him of his earlier decision. “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” Tobirama grumbles, swatting the vine away with his shoulder.

“Do you even realize,” Madara whispers, “how freaky that is?”

“Don’t insult it,” Tobirama chastises him, giving their restraints a worried glance and an apologetic smile. “Anyway, in the spirit of… the Magical Power of Hugs,” Tobirama invokes Hashirama’s sappy notion, “I would also love to be able to hug my.” He swallows heavily. “Friend.”

The Mokuton takes a longer time to think this time. Madara mouths, “Will this seriously work?” and Tobirama shushes him with a glare. Oblivious to the exchange, the Mokuton unceremoniously pushes them together into an awkward embrace.

Then, Tobirama seizes his chance and captures Madara’s lips with his.

They’re already pressed together with almost no space between them, blood still running hot from their fight, and enough hours have passed since their last bout of lovemaking for Tobirama’s arousal to ratchet up to aching in a matter of seconds. By the way Madara moans into the kiss, sliding his hands under Tobirama’s shirt and pulling him impossibly closer, he seems to be in a similar state.

Perfect, Tobirama thinks. Now he has to do is to wait for the Mokuton to process this…

Madara pulls away, almost forcefully withdrawing his hands to grip Tobirama’s shoulders, movements still somewhat restrained by the vines.

…but first, get Madara back on the right track.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Madara demands, breathing heavy and eyes glazed over.

“What does it look like?” Tobirama says, offering a smirk in place of an annoyed scowl. “Apologizing the best way I know how.”

“B-but,” Madara breathes, as Tobirama trails his fingers down his chest, down to palm the obvious bulge in his pants. “Uh. What.”

Tobirama huffs out a laugh. This ability to render his lover incoherent with a simple touch has long since become second nature. Granted, it works both ways, but Madara is, for some reason, much more prone to surprise attacks by seduction.

“Just trust me,” Tobirama says, leaning down to place a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on his lover’s neck, wrangling out a drawn-out whimper Madara would probably never admit to. “If you’d like me to stop, just say so, koibito.”

Madara doesn’t object to the endearment this time, and Tobirama counts that as a clear victory.

Tobirama shifts to place another kiss on the underside of his jaw, making quick work of divesting Madara of his pants so he can give his cock a firm stroke. This earns him a breathless moan from his lover—and no further complaints.

Good.

Madara drags him by the collar into another kiss, biting and sucking on Tobirama’s bottom lip as he fucks into his hand, getting just as lost in the pleasure as Tobirama feels. Hands, hot and demanding, run over Tobirama’s body, tugging at his clothes insistently, soon bordering on desperate. Madara’s cock grows rock hard under his touch, an enticing prize that makes Tobirama’s mouth water. It takes a monumental effort to keep track of the Mokuton that’s still twitching and twisting around their limbs with confused agitation, its grip getting weaker and weaker until—

Madara is busy sucking on one of Tobirama’s nipples, fingers toying with the other, when the vines grow stiff, then totally slack, and yank themselves away to all but fly over to the opposite corner. The motion throws them both off-balance, and Madara ends up sprawled on top of Tobirama as they scramble to untangle their limbs and get into a more or less comfortable position.

“What the—”

“It worked,” Tobirama says, smirking wider as the sound of Hashirama’s wail resounds through every single wall of the mansion.

“MADARA,” the idiot shrieks from somewhere in the distance, “NOT MY LITTLE BROTHER!”

Before Madara has the chance to yell back his retort, Tobirama Hiraishins them both to land on the softness of the futon back home, reeling Madara in to distract him from the ordeal with fervent kisses and wandering hands. Madara doesn’t seem to mind. 

He shifts his weight from hands to elbows, cradling them both with his hair, and deepens the kiss, it seems, with the sole intent of driving Tobirama mad with want. Madara moves with him, cock rubbing against his thigh as Tobirama thrusts back, chasing the delicious friction, his pants too tight, skin too hot, Madara’s touch not nearly enough.

“Good creative thinking back there,” Madara says as they break away for air before meeting once more for another bruising kiss.

“Do I get a reward then?” Tobirama asks, shivering with pleasure as Madara moves to mouth at his collarbone, sucking on the sensitive skin there.

“Oh yes,” Madara drawls, dragging his mouth down Tobirama’s chest to his hipbone with just the slightest hint of teeth. Finally, Madara frees his length, lips hovering over it, teasing, barely touching. Tobirama can’t quite hold back a groan. “I’ll show you how creative I can be.”

[dailyaudiobible]

01/20/2021 DAB Transcript

Genesis 41:17-42:17, Matthew 13:24-46, Psalms 18:1-15, Proverbs 4:1-6

Today is the 20th day of January. Wow, it's the 20th day of January already? Wow! So, we are two thirds of the way through the first month of the year. It shouldn't be a surprise. We've done it day by day step-by-step, but sometimes you’re just like wow! It was like Christmas 10 minutes ago but here we are it’s the 20th of January and we are well on our way in establishing this rhythm of the year on this journey through the Scriptures. So, let's dive into the book of Genesis, which is where we are in the Old Testament. We are with Joseph. And we have seen Joseph, a young, good-looking, well-built man trafficked into slavery by his own family, accused of inappropriate activity toward his master's wife, thrown into a dungeon and forgotten. And now he's been summoned before Pharaoh because Pharaoh has had a dream. So, Joseph finally gets a bath and finally gets to shave and he's before Pharaoh. Pharaoh's telling him, “I hear…I hear you can interpret dreams.” And Joseph's like, “I can't really do anything, but God can give you what you want.” And that is where we find ourselves. We’re reading from the New International Version this week. Today Genesis chapter 41 verse 17 through 42 verse 17.

Commentary:

Okay. So, on any given day there’s any number of things that we could be talking about, but let's just try to recount what we read today, beginning with Proverbs and the understanding that the Proverbs are continuing to call out of the pages of the Bible that wisdom is the thing to go for. Like wisdom is the one thing to gain or achieve. Get it above all other things. And if you have wisdom and are wise any of the other things that you're after can be achieved and can be attained through wisdom or the wisdom will show us that that thing isn't even worth spending our energy in trying to attain. We will know. But if all we do is live reactionary lives from thing to thing to thing just trying to achieve the next commercial thing that's being sold to us and we ignore wisdom in our lives then…well…then it leads to destruction of our lives, the dismantling systematically piece by piece of…of our existence until we are shaking our heads going, “what’s happened? What's going on here?” And we realize then if we’re honest and looking for the truth that we have followed the path of foolishness and it has led right where the path of foolishness goes. Even if that's who we are, like even if that's where you are right now, at the bottom, just one rung above the bottom because you started to try to dig out January 1st and you’re one wrung up the ladder now, this is still true. We can start to seek wisdom at any point no matter what is going on. And if we will follow the path of wisdom and continue to live in wisdom day after day step-by-step, we will…we will navigate out of this. It is possible. We have to do what we know is right, slow down enough to look for the story behind the story, right? The true story, the one Jesus is talking about. And that's as good as a…well…let’s just work backwards.

Let’s go to Matthew where Jesus tells a number of parables, a number of wisdom teaching parables. Because Jesus was often known as a wisdom teacher, right? The same wisdom we’re talking about in Proverbs. Jesus is teaching wisdom. And what He's doing in particular today is giving us a way to understand how the kingdom of heaven that we have always thought was something that was yet to come, how that we realize that it is already here and that is already happening, and it is preserving everything and we can participate in it, but we need eyes to see and ears to hear. We need to be able to see what is true instead of what is curated. We need to live what is true instead of falsely curating and presenting who we are. And then we begin to see. And, so, Jesus gives one particular parable. A man sowed good seed in his field, right? So, this is a plowed field ready for planting and then it's planted ready to go. An enemy comes in and sows weeds. Can't figure this out until everything starts to sprout and then it's seen that there's weeds everywhere among the wheat. This is a wisdom parable from Jesus to show us the state of things as they are. This is the world we live in. The weeds and the wheat are being allowed to grow together. This is God's mercy, but in the end, the weeds will be pulled up at harvest. And, so, the obvious question coming from this parable is, “are you wheat or are you weeds?” Some important things for us to consider today.

And then we move back to Genesis we continue the story of Joseph and there’s not…I mean…we just read the story. Joseph's brothers have come, and they have bowed down to him fulfilling this dream that he had when he was 17. Let's remember that Joseph wasn't in Pharaoh's service according to the Bible until he was 30, 13 years after he had been trafficked into slavery by his brothers. It took 13 years before he came into Pharaoh's service. Another seven years went by in prosperity, and now we are in the season of famine, probably a couple years into famine. Joseph lost his childhood and spent his young adulthood in a dungeon. Like we said yesterday, he had every right to his bitterness and his depression and all of the things that would bring him down as if he had been cursed personally by God. It's just that, that's not in this story. And that's the point. That's not in this story. Joseph…Joseph knew what had happened to him was unjust. He didn't blame God for it though. He held onto God as the only hope of ever getting anywhere else. That is a sharp contrast to the way that we normally behave because the second we face something that we have to endure is usually the time that we just throw up our hands and go, “God's not there for me.” And all of the things that we say, maybe we could take a cue from Joseph or maybe we could take a cue from wisdom or maybe we could take a cue from Jesus teaching wisdom. God loves us. That's not what's going on here. And somehow Joseph was able to hold on, hold on and believe that God was his hope and that one day…one day this story would right itself. Now Joseph's brothers are before him and he's making accusations that they’re spies, and they are incarcerated. So, what's gonna happen here? Is Joseph gonna get his revenge? Because he's got them in his power now and they don't know who he is. What’s gonna happen? That is a story to continue tomorrow.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for the opportunity to come into Your presence and to come into each other's presence and to just come around what we call the Global Campfire, this oasis, this calm serene place where we can focus our attention on what is really going to matter, that those things can get within us and change our perspective about all the things that we have to do. And, so, we thank You for encouraging us. Again, wisdom above all else, wisdom. Because wisdom will give us eyes to see and ears to hear. Come Holy Spirit we pray. Lead us into all truth as You promised. We ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com, that’s home base, that's the website, it is definitely where you dive in, definitely where you find out what’s going on around here. So, be familiar and stay tuned and stay connected.

Everything that you find at dailyaudiobible.com you can also access pretty much from within the Daily Audio Bible app. There is a Drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner that gives you a bunch of these choices. So, check that out. Be familiar with the Community section. This is where the Prayer Wall lives. And the Prayer Wall is…is just a very important component. It's…it's been with us 24 hours a day seven days a week for almost as long as the Daily Audio Bible. It's always been this place to go. And, so, it's not just you got a prayer and so you want to post it, or you just want to pray for people. There is a history here. Tens and tens of thousands of our brothers and sisters over the years, have come to this virtual prayer wall to offer up prayer, to hear what needs to be prayed for in people's lives, to offer our own prayer requests because of what's going on in our lives. It's something that's been going on for a very very long time. And, so, it's a sacred place around here, that Prayer Wall. So, be familiar with it. I can't even count really the…the things that God has done through that Prayer Wall. The things that I've heard over the years, spectacular things. And it's…it's even deeper than that, because sometimes you know, we want to offer a prayer and we want God to answer it the next morning and it's all better but sometimes it doesn't work that way. And sometimes we find that we’re…we’re kinda working through some difficulties, some…a difficult patch, And that's hard, it's painful. And, so, it kind of begins to isolate us. When we’re facing something difficult, whether it's physical or whether it’s emotional, whatever. When we begin to focus on the pain then we begin to take steps toward isolation and then we get isolated and then it’s just even that much worse because it's like not only am I going through this, nobody cares even though we've withdrawn because of pain. But praying for people through it all, despite it all while we’re going through things. It's…it's remarkable what that does. Because it…it turns our focus off of our pain and off of our suffering and how nobody cares and it focuses our attention on other people who are going through similar things and it focuses our affections on God who is the only hope. So, if you haven’t been to the Prayer Wall, be familiar, be a regular. It's…it's surprising how profound it is to pray for one another. So, check that out. It’s in the Community section.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There’s a link on the homepage and I thank you. We wouldn't be here if we weren’t in this together. And that's pretty much across the board. That's how it's spelt built. We’re in community and we do this together. And it doesn't work if we don't show up. If we’re for not here it doesn't work. But it works when we do. So, if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible there's a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can press the Hotline button that's in the app, little red button at the top that looks like a red hotline button, press that no matter where you are in the world and you can share or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello Daily Audio Bible family my name is Sarah, and I am from London England. I've been listening to Daily Audio Bible since 2017 and it has been a blessing, but I haven't always followed it through. It's been on and off. And this year I have decided that I will definitely want to seek God more and just to be consistent and, you know, follow the Bible through and really getting to know God on a deeper level. I was raised in a Christian household and I…my relationship with God hasn't always been strong. It's always been quite lukewarm. And back in 2009 I…I heard from God during my quiet time and the word that He revealed to me was consecrate. And back then I had never heard of the word and I even had to go into a dictionary to find out what the word was. So, after I found out what the word was consecration, you know, I really wanted to get close to God but there's load…loads and loads of distractions in my life and I haven't really had the opportunity to really seek God wholeheartedly. And since then, I have been through a lot of challenges that I look back and think that maybe I should have, you know, consecrated then I would have never…I would have never have gone through what I've gone through. So, I want to just ask for prayer. I want to just ask for prayer for God, you know, for God to…to draw closer to God. And also to…just to…you know…for all the distractions to be taken away because every time that I want to draw close to God distractions always come in and I never seem to fulfill that. So, I just wanted to ask for prayer for that. God bless you all thank you. Bye now.

Good morning DABbers this is Shaw from Oaktown Orlando FL. I usually don't call in, but I was inspired by Tonja with a J from South Florida that you finished the Bible last year. You know, I've been listening to DAB for a few years now and I haven't gotten through a whole year. You know, I got through most of it and missed some days, but you've really inspired me to focus and…and make it through. You know, there's other areas of life that I've really focused in and I've been successful. And I’m like, “why not this one?” So, I appreciate your excitement, I appreciate the energy, and I'm going to finish the Bible this year. I'm making that, you know, my…my goal. So, right now I'm on day 10 but I'm catching up. This morning I'm taking some time to catch up and I just really appreciate your inspiration. Brian, Jill, you guys are amazing. Appreciate everything that you do. You know, it’s so good to be able to…I do this in the morning…to just listen and get the goodness of the Spirit and just connect with the Lord in the morning just to get your day started off right. So, again I appreciate everything that each and every one of you do. You know, I listen to all these recordings and I'm just so inspired by, you know, the movement that everybody has, the changes in the life and everybody just praying for each other. So, I'm praying for each and every one of you. Know that. I love you. God bless. And we’ll talk to you soon. Signing out. Shaw from Oaktown Orlando Florida.

We are all reflections no matter what you say or do and most of the times we tend to reflect those things in our hearts that we believe to be true even though the scriptures warn us that the heart is deceitfully wicked and very easily misled the scriptures also advise us to pay very close attention to those things upon which our heart is being fed because out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks and our words become the reflections of those things our heart seeks how much influence does social media exert on the things that you do and say how much time do you spend on the Internet in the course of a normal day how much time do you spend reading God's word how much time do you actually spend each day in prayer our actions are the outer manifestations of whatever is internally there are you reflecting God when you open your mouth to speak or are your actions more self-serving reflecting passions and desires that run deep because it's nice to receive love and praise from the world and our peers but that's too fades just like the passing of years and only that that you do for Christ has the power to last social morays and fads all eventually pass proverbs says that gossip tastes sweet when you first take it in but it turns into a poison once it gets deep down within that's why it's so important to feed daily on God's word and prayer and not be so quick to ingest and repeat those things from the Internet that people are so eager to share pray for God's Holy Spirit to lead you to all that's true and try to be an accurate reflection of Christ and all that you say and do

BlindTony …

Hi this is Tara in Los Angeles and I'm calling to pray for Jeremy in South Oregon. Lord Jesus I just lift my brother up to You. He has cancer and he is looking at going to Hospice soon. And I just pray Your peace and Your love over him. And I know that the nights can be scary and feel lonely and sadness can be overwhelming sometimes. And Lord Jesus I just to ask that he would feel Your peace and Your love just wash over him in just a physical way and that he will just know deep in his heart in his soul that everything is going to be OK. And I lift up his family to You and I just thank You for them just loving him and walking with him through this difficult time that he's been going through. And I pray that they will be blessed for having had this walk with him. And I pray Lord that You would…they would have a strengthened relationship with You through all of this, that they would turn to You in their grief in their loneliness and their fear and that they too would know ultimately that everything is going to be OK. And I just thank You for that Lord. I thank You for Jeremy's time here and I thank You for where he is headed when he goes home. And Jeremy, I just give You a hug brother. It's a soul hug. And I was there in 2019 and came through it but I know the fear of leaving Your family. And just love You very…

Lord God we lift up the country of Mexico to You. Thank You, Lord for this land and for its people and we thank You Lord for our brothers and sisters who live there and our brothers and sisters who are working there serving You. Praying especially for Maria and others like her serving the people of Mexico on Your bath. We pray Lord that You would be blessing their work greatly, that You would be guiding their hands and inspiring them and providing their needs as they seek to serve You in Mexico. We pray Lord that the love and forgiveness of Jesus would overpower any strongholds of crime, violence, and corruption. We pray Lord for the government of the leaders and pray that You would be giving them wisdom on how best to serve Mexico, that You would help them to be honest and upright and good examples to people. We pray Lord that the people would find You, they would seek You and that they would find You and they might find their identity and purpose in the love of Christ and in the purposes of God and we pray Lord for Your Spirit to fall on Mexico, that You would break any chains of darkness and…and remove any influences that…that aren't helpful. We pray Lord for renewal. We pray that Your name will be glorified in Mexico in Jesus’ holy and precious name.

Hello dear friends my husband of 46 years recently left me, and I've recently just gotten out of the hospital with Covid and I really don't have anyone to help me here at home. And the home health services haven't kicked in yet and I'm just asking for your prayers. I appreciate you and I love you community…I love you. Thank you.

[reddogf13]

Scarlet marks ch 1

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: who knew she would end up here? Beverly, having started her work in fashion as a young bright secretary under the older tom Rogan. now forced to sexually serve slimy old politicians under toms vicious grip for power and money. forced into following toms political flock to Derry. she runs into a familiar face, wearing a silver clown suit, out on a special hunt. (mainly smut

status: In progress

rated: M - fowl language, gore, and sex scenes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

previous chap: None

next chap:  Scarlet marks ch 2

_____________________________________

~ch:1 High roller~

Beverlys life had not been going well since she got involved with Tom Rogan. they first met in her secretary work under the LA fashion industry 8 years ago back in 1991. hardly an adult at just turning 18 to get herself into the business as a start. She should have seen the red flags in the older 33 year old Tom Rogan floating around her all the time. Looking back he was eerily similar in how her dad used to haunt her when ever she was in her apartment as a child. Tom was quick to fill her head with dreams of fame and fortune. False promises that he could help her break into the real fashion jobs.

She decided that they would be partners in their line of work. unbeknownst to her Tom had already decided for her back then. Her making wonderful dresses while he controlled both there finances and all the details in planning. This was the beginning of their downfall after Tom loved hogging all the spot light to the point he turned obsessed with showing off. Spending most their business money to lavishly “gain connections” in the fashion industry. It worked, or so he told her it did, gaining access to high profile party's to talk with great designers. Something that made her trust him more after he introduced her to such high people.

From then on he convinced her that he loved her. Taking her to fancy dates involving fancy shopping trips. Double dates with other designers she loved talking to. All these things he did to purposefully keep her in the dark with how much money they were truly hemorrhaging. Then the fancy dates stopped along with attending fancy party's. Bills started coming in claiming they were over due on payment. Tom brushing her off to not let her question the missing pieces he downplayed all the time. Soon their business started showing it wasn't doing as well as he told. He couldn't keep up in hiding the bills followed by money collectors on late payments anymore.

When ever she tried to investigate into how bad things were, he blamed her. Accusing her of not believing him when he said things were being handled. She was the one who had to give him more to keep things working. Purposefully hooking her deeper so that she had no way of leaving. Telling her he did so much to build her and how dare she try to go off on her own. How could she abandon him after everything, in fact, they should get married! It would improve their looks to the other designers and the customers buying from them.

“Who doesn't like a family run business! Customers eat those things up when buying made goods!” he claimed.

This was his idea of solving the growing debt they had. Customers would see this “family business” tag and product would fly off the shelf's. Which of course flopped hard despite how big and highlighted he made the tag line across everything. Beverly outright told him she had had enough of him. Demanding they get a divorce and go their separate ways. Tom wasn't about to allow that, showing his true face that night. How violent he could be when he was angry.

Leaving Beverly a bloody broken mess that had her quiet for a long time. Any sound she made had him taking out his anger on her. Doing so even when money collectors called. Then one day he suddenly stopped the attacks, that then allowed her to heal after so long. Turing sickeningly sweet toward her that made her blood run cold. A plot he came up with that she was in the dark of until fully healed.

A crooked grin spanning across his face when he spoke. “you're getting a new job baby girl.” sliding her a lavish meal they used to have on their fancy dates. “it'll make us a lot of money. Allows us to keep the house. You don't want us homeless, do you?” anger dripping through the last few words.

Beverlys stomach twisting into painful knots in fear of another violent beating. “... no...”

“good.” smiling softer when cutting into his steak. “you'll go out to a nearby hotel to meet some nice men. You'll do everything they say. If you don't, I wont be happy.” stabbing harshly into a piece of sliced stake. Snickering when Beverly jumped at the other end of the table. “eat fast and go make yourself look pretty. I'll go over the prices with you.” his voice coldly casual as if he was simply talking about the weather.

That's when her work of a prostitute started. In the beginning she tried so hard to escape Tom and the street life. Even getting arrested at one point, but Tom had high connections. Connections to politicians that treated her like she was his property. A dog being returned to its master after getting out of the yard. When she was returned to Tom, by the judge setting her free, she felt hopeless. When she had to serve that same judge and his buddy's at a house party, she was left broken. Giving up on fighting for freedom after so long.

Now it was the year 1999, Beverly had excitedly spent her 26th birthday a few weeks ago moving with Tom to a new house. Flying from LA all the way back to her home town of Derry. Following a bunch of politicians moving here to take over the place. Seeing Derry as a easy town to sweep up votes to grow new business under their belts. Also to keep prying eyes off their not so honest work. Her wondrous job earning enough for Tom to buy the fanciest house in the rich heights of the town. If it weren't for how and why they got it she'd find the place lovely.

Like usual Tom sent her out to work the street corners. Giving her a daily quota that she had to make if she wanted to be let back in the house. Withholding even the basics like food if she didn't make enough. Requiring her to be clever on finding a place to sleep, although it being really undignified. Convincing her clients to have her spend the night for more money. Possibly raiding the fridge as they slept if she didn't convince them to sexily eat some fruit with her.

The past couple of weeks hadn't been going as well in the money making. Leaving her to spend whole nights out on the street with no chance of following someone home. The clientele decreasing over time to the point she began to question why. Was she not that good, not enough money per person like in LA, or perhaps because word got around so fast in Derry? People weren't willing to take the risk of being caught and shamed across town. If it weren't for toms punishments she'd be thrilled at being ignored by the town.

She leaned against the cold brick wall behind her. Sighing out a breath of air that fogged up in the cold night air. It was reaching the point she'd have to find a place to sleep outside if somebody didn't pick her up. Shifting off the wall to walk around for a bit of warmth. Thinking about breaking into the Derry junk yard to sleep in an abandoned car. Passing down an alley lightly lit up by a street light at its end. Her pace nervously slowing at the feeling of being watched from the shadows.

Out of the corner of her eye a dark tall shape moved closer from the shadows. Turning to face the one moving closer her eyes locked with two golden glowing ones. Heart skipping a beat in recognizing them and who they belonged two. That horrifying clown from her child hood stepping from the dark to be highlighted by the yellow lamp a distance away. She stood her ground in facing him unafraid of what he could do to her. Honestly being eaten alive was better then what her job had her do.

Smiling at her for a moment before speaking. “hi-ya, Beverly.”

not in the mood to deal with him she asked boldly. “what do you want?”

“i want you.” he boldly answered back.

Taken aback she stared at him while her skin crawled at the idea of what he meant. Hoping it wasn't that she asked him another question. “what, to suffer? To eat me like you tried ages ago?”

“no, for a bit of fun.” stepping closer that drove her to step back nervously. “been watching you play with others. Decided I wanted to have a ride.”

“ha.” she nervously fake laughed. “if you didn't notice its my job, that means you gotta pay. You got money, clown?” anxiety building the longer she stayed around him. What if he was planning something sinister if she said no?

“i do.” his answer catching her off guard again.

“mm … doubt you have enough.” speaking the next line quickly. “i am not doing anything and I am going now.” walking off toward the alley exit.

His expression dropping its wide smile to frown for a brief moment before grinning again. “i can pay whatever price you ask. Follow whatever rules you give. You could go back home after me if you earn enough, correct?” his words bringing her to a stop to think it over a deep breath.

She was 2,000 short on being able to make it home. For basic sex it was usually around $200 or a little more for particular features. Did she really want to do it with that clown though? Was 2,000 considered enough to commit to that?

“ … $5,000 … you have to pay first before I do anything. No negotiating on that.” firm on her stance and willing to walk if he tried changing her mind on anything. Amazed she didn't die right then and there when he pulled out a huge wad of cash.

“holding it out for her to take. “here … take it.” smiling at her the whole time.

Snatching it from his hand in disbelief that this was happening. “... i need to count it. ...” stating as she went through the wad of hundreds without a fuss from him. Debating if she could back out still or not when going through the counting a few times. The whole $5,000 was there up front for her to take. Thinking back to why he even wanted to do this. It didn't appear to be for any sinister reasons or else why be so cooperative in dealing with her? “... okay. … what do you want to do?” lacking enthusiasm for the performance.”

“nothing much, just a round or two.”

“... you got a place you want to go? Or are we doing it in the alley?”

“don't have a place at the moment.” stepping personally close into Beverlys space.

“mm.” humming her displeasure at the whole situation she was in. “follow me. We can be over here where nobody driving by the alley can see us.” gesturing for him to follow over to a darkened spot. Rummaging through her pockets a lump formed in her throat. She swore she had some to spare, but apparently not. “you have a condom?”

“nope.”

“course you don't.”  not afraid to up the price for him. “Raw rides cost extra.” thankfully almost all her clients went for the free condom route. Especially the big wigs not wanting to be black mailed with a prostitute pregnancy during a campaign.

not losing any of his smiling composure. “i can pay.”

“$50.” holding her hand out. a millisecond passing before the bill was in her hand. “okay.” sighing after checking the bill was real before putting it away in her jacket pocket. Shifting nervously when his white gloved hands reached down to undo her pants. It had been a long while since she was nervous about doing something like this. Moving her hands to start loosening his pants after she figured out how to past all the lacing. Both of them slipping each others pants down just enough to expose each other.

Beverly seeing the whole view of his set up that was far different that any other guy. A long scar like crease starting at his mid stomach going down to spread open below his hip line. A long black tendril twitching around dripping a slime off it. Her view not lasting long when he rubbed the tops of her hips. Gently pushing for her to shift positions.

“turn around.” he spoke softly to her.

Doing as she was told she turned around for him. Leaning her upper body onto the wall in nervous waiting. His hands rubbing along her hips to rubbing her inner thighs as he pressed himself against her. Carefully wrapping his arms around her hips and legs to pick her off the ground. Making the height difference more equal for him to slip in. his arms settling around her hips to hold her position up for the both of them. Gently shifting her closer against the wall in that she could lean more comfortably against it while sliding back onto his hips holding her up the rest of the way. Burying his face into the back of her neck to breath in her scent.

Beverlys body tensed at the strange sensation of a squirming organ slipping between her legs. Gliding in smoothly thanks to the slime coating across its length. Twisting inside the entire time he thrusted in picking up a rhythm. So far this wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. Expecting him to be really rough in what ever he did. That or mocking her for letting him do this. Some men loved narrating every action they did. Asking repeatedly if she liked this or that being the other annoyance. When no, she found them repulsive and rather they shut up and get everything over with.

Doing it this way wasn't the most comfortable, out in the open night. However everything else was comfortable at best to tolerable at worst. Shutting her eyes to focus on the pleasure he was nicely building in her. His length snugly rubbing along her walls in an even pace. The soft silk fabric kept the friction down while helping to keep her warm from the night air. Him leaning over along her back passing a lot of warmth over as a thick blanket would.

Opening her eyes off a vibration built at the base of her neck down along her back. Confused at first then she realized it was from him purring. The low gentle rumbles passing in waves creating a small smile on Beverlys face. She couldn't help finding it cute to hear such a sound from him. Then catching a sweet scent flowing off him heavier then before.

Sweet vanilla mixed with cinnamon was what her mind came up with. “Was it always there?” thinking to herself after taking a deep inhale of it.

Hands grabbing at the wall off the effects it had on her. Body relaxing more then she wanted that she felt like she was slipping down the wall. Unable to hold herself up the longer she breathed in that intoxicating scent surrounding her. Sensing this he pushed closer to the wall in pinning her up against it. Surrounding her further in the sweet scent along side burying her under his poofy silk outfit. Shifting his hips to start into a firmer pace hitting deeper spots then she'd ever experienced. Promoted to thrust faster when Beverly couldn't hold in her moans any longer. Panting as he did against her neck building warm moisture at the spot.

Her body was moving on its own in wanting him to do more. Managing to arch back into him to feel himself hit deeper. Moving his head from her neck to rest over her shoulder. Hearing more clearly the growling purrs between heated breaths. His hands moving from around her waist to grip her inner thighs in spreading them wider. Leaving Beverly a shivering limp mess from the overwhelming pleasure. It wasn't long when her body tensed in reaching is peak. Squeezing around his thrusting rod that swelled in her.

When he didn't release with her some part of her was disappointed. Turning into anger about how she was denied something. Further pressing back into him she tensed around him again. Hearing him let out a shivering growl that gathered himself to speak. “may I cum inside?” managing to ask.

A deep thought of Beverly answering “of fucking course!” finding his question ridiculous, however realizing that, that was extremely out of character for her. No way she should be so accepting of him cumming in her. She should have him pull out, but … “its extra.” she managed to groan out. Moaning by him pinning her hips hard against the wall to shove himself deep. Reaching as far as he could to explode deep inside. Filling her enough to leak a flow down onto the concrete. More of it spreading down her thighs to drip off her exposed skin.

That first release from him not feeling enough to her. Squeezing her legs together to put pressure on the swollen rod. Dragging out another thick wave from him to spill deep inside. Enjoying the sound of his cum puddling at the floor. Loving even more that so much was still inside her. Realization over these thoughts hitting her like a ton of bricks. Why was she so excited by that?! She should be worried about a possible pregnancy after he came like a fire hose. Shivering at him pulling free that allowed more cum to spill from her.

Those yelling thoughts quieted by him flipping her around to face him. Kissing her back into the wall with his length sliding back between her thighs. Her legs tensed around him to feel him squirm wildly. The member spreading its own slickness across her entrance dripping with the seed it just poured into her. Teasing her to build a wanting warmth for another load to fill her. The kissing alone no longer cutting it for her that had her hands going south. About to grab his shaft to push it in when he stopped her. Both her hands held by one of his between their chests. She whimpered in the kiss he had her in as his grinding was continued undisturbed.

It rubbed her in long strokes gliding back and forth. The slick ooze thoroughly coating her thighs squeezing painfully tight now. She wanted him so badly and he knew it too. Shifting his body to keep her pinned between him and the wall. Her legs unable to touch the ground when he wedged between them. Separating from the kiss he buried his face into her neck. Sharp teeth grazing the sensitive skin there causing her to shiver. The burning heat of her body worsening that she was heavily breathing great breaths to fog in the air.

speaking warmly into her neck.“is my Beverly hot?” his free hand moving up under her shirt. Gliding up across her skin to snap the shirt buttons free from under the fabric. She squirmed in wanting to do something too. He released her hands to wander him as his did to her. Massaging up her chest as she undid his pompom buttons. Gazing over the further view of his toned muscles covered by smooth white skin matching his face. Touching each other up moved him to press inward after such a longing grind. She let out a little surprised whimper that got a chuckle out of him.

His hands moving down to grip into her hips. Each thrust firm to penetrate deep without letting her slip an inch down the wall she was pinned against. Beverlys mind was clouded in a raging fire of wanting him, to even think of what he was doing. How he was coming into her again and again. Something in her liking it, wanting him to keep going, that she should submit to what ever he wanted. He could fill her until the sun rose or take her down to some bedding he would never let her leave. As long as he was there inside of her, nothing else would matter in her mind.

Clawing into his shoulders on one last burst of his thick cum warming her lower stomach. This one was only more noticeable because he pulled out to let everything pour freely to the ground. The warm thickness streaming down her quivering thighs. When he shifted away she grabbed onto him to not let him. Loosening the grip on his arms when her mind finally caught up to what had happened.

He carefully set her back down to hold her up until her legs stopped shaking. Both of them catching their breath where they stood. Adjusting their clothes into place with Beverly having a bit of trouble with the cum clinging so much. Thinking it gross, but nothing she could do about it in the moment. Redressed she heard him speak clearly again.

“how much?” he asked in referring to the thick liquid being able to ooze from her.

“oh, um ...” thinking it over. A part of her saying. “fuck me again like that and it'll be free every time.” shoving that down to calculate a clothes cleaning and plan B meds price. “$100.” she settled on.

He flipped out another hundred to hold out to her. Reaching out her shaking hand to quickly take it. Fixing up her outfit a bit more in preparation to head home.

“see you soon, Bev.” his smooth words raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

“soon?” she asked in looking toward him. Finding him to be gone by the time she looked back. “was that a promise?” she wondered. That part of her in the back of her mind excited for the next visit already.

She returned home just as Tom finished dinner. Having her wait on the porch as he counted the money to be sure she made the quota. Being allowed back in when he saw she passed the mark. Beverly rushed upstairs to shower. Took a few birth control pills as there was no way she was allowing herself to get pregnant from the clown. Washing the huge amount of cum out of her in the shower. Shivering after still being sensitive after the ride he gave. Her hands changing from scrubbing to trying to mimic the feeling of him squirming inside of her.

Thoroughly exhausted after a long hot shower and a quick cold one she dropped into bed.

[disownedbytiime]

With the info we have until now, I imagine chapter 5 of TWST may resemble chapter 2, so I decided to write why I think so; but I also touched Leona’s and Vil’s relationship since I ship them think it may be key.

—Starting with the names of the chapters. Chapter 2 is called “ 荒野の反逆者” , the wiki translate it as “The Rebel of the Savannah” but it can be “Wilderness Rebel” (They use a different word for Savannah so I don’t use it here: 草原→ Savannah, 荒野 → Wild, Wilderness, Wasteland)

Chapter 5 is called “美貌の圧制者“ which means “Beautiful Oppressor” (it can also be ‘tyrant’, but chapter 1 is called ‘Crimson Tyrant’, and I don’t want to have two tyrants, so unless we were to change it to ‘Crimson Despot’, I think oppressor works fine.

Now all the other chapters have a similar name in English, but in Japanese chapter 2 and chapter 5 have more similitude between each other than with the others. I really can’t explain it all without having to explain a lot of Japanese, but the thing is that the kanji used sort of mirror each other. However if we go by definition: rebel→ someone who disobeys authority or power; oppressor→  someone who uses their power to suppress others. In this case, they’re opposites.  (Some Japanese fans also said those two chapters resemble Pokémon games by the naming)

— In chapter 2, the Magift Tournament was the main event. In chapter 5 it’s the Dance and Vocal Championship. Both are events where all the students gather and I’m gonna guess also the families/external people can come watch, possibly being broadcasted too. The difference is that the Magift tournament was between dorms while the DVC includes other magic schools.

— Now, going into their personalities. Leona and Vil have a lot of similarities but also a lot of differences in their personalities. This is a bit of a fabrication since we still don’t have the whole picture with Vil.

Leona is pretty smart and strong, basically a great magician, but he’s always been in the shadow of his brother; and no matter how much he tries, he just won’t succeed (or so he thinks). Instead of trying, now he prefers to not do anything since it doesn’t matter in the end.  (He tried to cheat on the Magift Tournament when it was sure they wouldn’t win normally, and yet that failed too.)

Vil’s motto seems to be to try hard to get what you want by your own hands and effort, to not leave things to luck or to wishes or to someone else. We still don’t know why he is like that, I’m sure there’s a reason, but in the end, he believes in getting what he wants by his own means. He doesn’t respect people who get things just for their status, like in Leona’s uniform personal story, where he accuses him of not even knowing how to fix a button since he comes from royalty and he gets everything done for him. It may seem like Vil doesn’t think Leona can try hard too, but considering he knows he is smart (Rook’s lab coat story) I think he actually knows (※I’ll bring this point later.), but it feels like he has that resentment towards him. He did say he hated spoiled kids.

— Which brings me to another point of similitude. Jealousy.

Leona is definitely a jealous guy, mainly towards his brother because of their status, and towards Malleus too, and it’s ‘understandable’ since he’s always second to them. One of Snow White’s main themes is jealousy/envy, the envy the Evil Queen felt towards her own stepdaughter’s beauty; so even though we’re not sure yet how it’ll turn out in chapter 5, I believe Vil will show some kind of jealousy too. However I don’t think he’ll be jealous of other’s beauty per se. I think he’ll be jealous that other people achieve things without effort, unlike him. (Maybe someone else will win the championship with no effort, yet he worked hard and couldn’t.)

Can it be that Vil will try a similar scheme (like Leona’s) to win? Pomefiore’s main skills lay on poisons, so I don’t think it’s hard to believe he may end up poisoning someone. ((Of course here enters Epel, he can either be the poison or he can be the one doing the poisoning too, or just something unrelated but since he has the ‘poison apple’ motif, I believe he’ll be crucial here.)) This setting makes it similar to the sabotage Leona planned. However, there’s the possibility of having different results. Leona gives up when he realizes his plan is meaningless, but maybe Vil won’t give up, maybe he’ll go through anything and do anything to win, making his own body suffer and in the process he’ll overblot. (Just think how the Evil Queen transformed into an old woman which caused her a lot of pain just to get what she wanted.) Whatever it’s the case, I believe that sort of jealousy is key for both of their overblots (if it’s Vil.)

※ Returning to the effort thing. I think Fairy Gala was way too important for their development, specially Leona’s. He’s basically bribed into participating, and he definitely doesn’t want to, but he still tries just to get over with it quickly. During his SSR personal story, after managing the runway, he thinks he’s done and thinks he did a good job. Vil accepts his hard work but tells him he’s not done and ask him to pose at the end too. After Cater and Rook fail to find one, Leona tries himself and gives a good pose, he knows how to do it because he’s posed for pictures before. Rook and Cater like it, but Vil feels like it’s not enough, which makes Leona mad since -again- no matter how he tries, it’s never enough. The thing is that Vil didn’t do it to be mean, he pushes into finding something better because he knows Leona can do it, he knows Leona has more potential and he wants to make it shine. If Leona can bring all his potential, then he’ll feel better and succeed. And that’s how it turns out, Vil finds something more fitting for Leona seeing him cover himself with the blanket, so he mixes it with his ferociousness and in the end the result is great because that’s Leona’s essence, which in turn made him fell good about himself and succeed. For Vil I think it was important too. Even if he didn’t know before, by now he already knows Leona can try hard too, he doesn’t just accept Leona’s pose from his upbringing, he makes him try himself. I think it was important for both of them to understand each other and themselves. Fairy Gala is definitely after chapter 5, so I think both of them already had some sort of change.

In any case, I really don’t think it’s coincidence they have a duo together. I believe chapter 5 will have similitude with chapter 2, and I’d hope Leona could help too. I know it’s the turn of Scarabia, but I think Leona may understand the issues here. I think these two are connected in several ways, they’re like mirror images, and that’s why I think their relationship is good and important for each other.

I can keep going with the beauty and the beast theory with both of them, but I’ve already spoken a lot about it and I think this is long enough already.

This all started about chapter 2 and 5 being similar, but in the end I made it all about LeoVil 🤦🏻‍♀️

Anyway. I think chapter 5 may have a lot of similarities with chapter 2, but also I think certain things will be the opposite, all of this due Leona’s and Vil’s personalities (and relationship) which are also pretty similar and opposite at the same time.

[heartslogos]

executive assistant to the batman [50]

“Yo, you got Crane already?”

“Yup,” Dick rubs the side of his hip where Crane had gotten in a good kick. It’s going to be bruised and terrible to work with, but it’s better than a stab wound and Dick will take that win any day. “Evac okay?”

“They cart Crane off yet?”

“Just about, got a question for the not-so-good doctor?”

“Yeah. The Lamb was in one of the buildings he’d rigged with his gas. Check if he was targeting him on purpose.”

Slightly muffled, but no less indignant, is Tim Drake’s voice asking, “Your codename for me is the Lamb?”

“Yeah, you know. Like the lamb that breaks the seal to the end of days? Anyway stop eavesdropping.”

“I’m not eavesdropping, you’re talking to him right next to me!”

“I don’t eavesdrop on you when you’re on the phone doing whatever the fuck it is you do, Drake.”

“You’re a bat, you listen to everything all the time.”

“Where are you guys?” Tim’s been on sick leave from an injured leg coupled with an infection for the past two days. “And why was the Lamb walking?”

“He took the bus.”

“What happened to his car? He had one.”

“Why don’t you ask him later? Go talk to Crane and see if this shit was on purpose before they lock him up. I’m taking the Lamb back to his place. You know. To make sure he doesn’t fuck himself up further. Like he does.”

Hood cuts the line before Dick can hear what is no doubt a colorful response.

“O, you’re recording this right?”

“I don’t know why you ask questions like that, N,” Oracle says, “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

“Just covering my bases,” N says, turning to head back to the police cars, ducking underneath the yellow police tape as he searches out the armored car he’d seen them taking Crane to a minute ago.

He catches them just before they drive off and the officers gladly open the back of the armored vehicle so Nightwing can get a word in.

“Hey, Crane, were you targeting this area because you knew Drake would be here?”

The burlap sack that’s Crane’s mask tilts a little in acknowledgement, “Drake?”

“Yeah. Timothy Drake?”

“Who?”

“The executive assistant to Bruce Wayne?”

“Ah. That one. Nigma’s favorite.”

Nightwing blinks, “Wait, you guys have favorites? He’s the Riddler’s favorite? How did — the Riddler and Tim Drake are acquainted?”

“No, of course not. We consider all of you equal nuisances.” Crane sounds eerily similar to B when he says that. “And you’d have to ask Nigma regarding that. Or Drake, himself. I cannot emphasize enough how much this fascinating discussion does not pertain to me. Is this detainment lawful?

“It’s not exactly detainment, Crane. I’m just asking you some friendly questions.” Dick grins, “Who’s favorite am I, doctor? Am I yours? Come on. You’ve got to admit to a certain rapport between us. C’mon, I promise I won’t tell.”

“There are no favorites, Nightwing. You’re simply eldest, and therefore the irritation we are most used to dealing with,” Crane answers. Again, sounding a lot like B whenever Dick tries to needle him about the same topic. “Enough with this, why would I be targeting an assistant?”

“Because he basically runs W.E. when Bruce Wayne is being Bruce Wayne?”

“And what do I care about this, Nightwing? Are you trying to accuse me of something? Best to just say it. You drawing this out is getting neither of us anywhere aside from annoyed.”

“W.E. funds Batman.”

Crane’s long-suffering sigh gives Dick the heavy impression that he’s rolling his eyes so hard that they’d pop out of their sockets if he didn’t have eyelids and glasses.

“I don’t care that Gotham’s answer to the Kardashians funds Batman. Batman has been my antagonist since before Bruce Wayne and his money decided a skylight would be a fun new toy to invest in.”

Nightwing silently hopes that O’s also recording this bit too, because he absolutely needs to share this with everyone he knows. He needs to blast Crane saying this out loud in the Cave with some kind of music drop behind it. If his domino had some kind of visual recording he’d stick this moment in an electronic photo frame and give it to Bruce for Father’s Day.

“Alright, alright, cool your jets, Crane, I was just checking,” Nightwing holds up his hands, stepping away from the car. “Be good on the drive back to Arkham, no McDonalds stops for you, alright? Thanks for letting me talk to him, officers. I won’t take up anymore of your time.”

Nightwing escapes to a rooftop so he can pass it onto Hood that Drake and Crane’s proximity was a coincidence.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” O says just as Nightwing’s about to open his mouth.

“There isn’t even any CCTV here,” Nightwing glances around anyway, “How did you know?”

“You think I don’t know you, boy wonder?” O’s voice scrambler flicks off. “Give it a few minutes. Drake’s still busy tearing his way up one side of Jason’s ass and he’s got to work his way down the other.”

“Yikes. It can’t have taken them that long to get to his apartment.”

“Oh, they’re there all right. But Drake won’t go inside until he finishes giving Hood a piece of his mind.”

“They’re going to be there forever.” Dick’s pretty sure Tim’s got a few things Jason’s pissed him off about that he’d be more than happy to unload onto Hood with.

“Oh, nice. He’s started in on complaining about B to Hood so that Hood can take it up with B later.”

Jason would never keep his mouth shut about having someone complain about him about something B’s done.

“This is why he’s the favorite, apparently.” Dick sits down on the roof ledge, propping his chin on the palm of his hand as he swings a leg, hitting his heel against the brick facade of the building. “Do you happen to know anything about what happened to Drake’s car?”

“He drove it through Gotham, what do you think happened?” O replies. “It got wrecked during a fight.”

“It was a company issued car, he could’ve just gotten a new one. It’s basically an expected expense,” Dick points out. “Considering that the first one was basically forced on him to start with.”

Tim’s expression when he saw that car was a mixture of pure euphoric desire and unmitigated horror. Because on one hand, it was a beautiful car. On the other hand? At what cost did he get that car? Years in service to the Wayne family, and the promise of his future in that service.

“He can’t just keep replacing cars,” O says. “Considering his job position? And his streak of barely surviving bodily harm through sheer force of bullheaded will? He’d be going through cars like people go through toilet paper. W.E. is rich. They’re not that rich.”

[dailytimdrake]

how do you think Tim copes with failure? Something big that is his fault (or at least, he thinks it is). Does he keep trying or collapse in on himself?

This response turned out to be pretty long, so I’ll keep it under a read-more so as not to clutter your dash. Please remember that these are my opinion, and I am in no way telling you what you, personally, should believe about Tim!

I think Tim doesn’t exactly cope with failure well, if at all.

I’ve mentioned previously in passing on Tim possibly suffering from “gifted kid syndrome”, which ties in especially with this inability to cope with failure. An excerpt from a post by thingofthings on Wordpress:

“At the same time, if you define yourself as Smart, there is going to come a time when you’re Not Smart. When you meet people who are smarter than you, or you have to suddenly start working at a class. This can induce low self-esteem, depression, and general emotional crisis, because if you’re The Smart One what happens if you aren’t smart anymore?”

Tim is so used to picking up on things fast, and being right, and doing things perfectly, so much that when he does fail, it hits him particularly hard.

A lot of his identity is built on being capable. He becomes Robin because he’s good enough to be - because he proved himself by figuring out their identities, and getting Dick back to Gotham, and saving their asses. He had to prove himself worthy of being Robin. And the same thing happens in a lot of his relationships: he feels the need to be capable of something, to provide something, to be a good team leader, to give the other person a reason to stick around. So: failure? Not really an option.

It’s even more emphasised when you consider who he works for: Batman. Bruce is notoriously strict with his Robins, especially when it comes to personal failings. It’s not that he does it to hurt them, but because he wants them to be better. He wants them to improve. Nevertheless this method, applied to Tim, only really ingrains the idea that the only way to get someone’s approval/love is to perform well. I’m not going to get into his upbringing with his actual parents, but I imagine his experience with them was along the same lines as well.

In this context, Tim as a child might come to see failure as a surefire way to lose the regard of the people he’s worked so hard to keep. He might also view it as a personal failure - if he can’t do this one thing, if he isn’t always right, then what is he? A failure.

Side-note: I think he doesn’t see success (as in opposition to ‘failure’) as something to be particularly proud of, either. It’s his normal, an expectation that he should fulfill effortlessly, and to break this normal is to be lesser. This excerpt from chapter 2 CaptainnAustalia’s fic The Replacement illustrates this particularly well: 

“I wasn’t ready to go yet. I wanted to see if the replacement was really as good as everyone whispered.  When Tim finally landed the mark, a good ten minutes later, I felt the overwhelming urge to clap, or whistle, but instead I just leaned forward on my knees and watched for Tim’s reaction.

Nothing.

He just kept throwing, like he hadn’t noticed that the mark had landed. I was literally holding my breath, waiting for him to notice, to react. But he didn’t. He just kept going – landing more and more until there was a pile up and he couldn’t possibly hit the target any more. He collected his weapons wordless and put them in a small bucket off to the side. He looked over then and I could see it in his eyes.

No pride. No accomplishment.”

(Yes, it’s a JayTim fic - I highly recommend it despite the use of first person interjections and other nitpicking that i’m guilty of, because I really really love Jason’s and Tim’s characterisation here. It’s one of the few fics that portray Jason and Tim as I see them.)

Anyway. When Tim does manage to fail, he kind of panics, because he’s just shaken the entire core of his being. A big part of his identity and ego is “I’m right and I can prove it”, and this has just been questioned. There are a few ways failure can go for Tim:

a) Tim fails to do something he set out to do, through no fault of his own. For example, he wants to catch this one criminal tonight. Not only does the criminal get away, but all Tim’s leads or contacts on him turn up dead ends as well afterwards. Tim’s first response: to blame himself. He did a sloppy job.Never mind that there were unforeseen circumstances - it’s his fault, because he could have factored them in, and yet he didn’t. Next: he fixes it with double the drive. Because if he can do this more than perfectly, it balances out the earlier failure. It’s all quantitative - if he scores a B on the set-up, he needs to work extra hard to get enough points in the execution to get an A overall for that particular mission. And if overall he does it well, then no one will have to know that he failed.

b) Tim fails to do something he set out to do, because he overestimated himself or his plans. An example of this can be found in Red Robin.. somewhere, where Tim has a few elaborate plans running, and one of them fails. He loses the criminal he took into his custody, and finds himself the target of an assassination tournament.

What does Tim do? He forms a new plan to put him back on track and to fix his mistake, but he is humiliated. There’s an underlying anger at himself for not getting it right.

“Too clever by half.” Are you even hearing yourself, Tim? His tone is simultaneously full of self-praise and self-blame. What he’s really saying is, “I should have seen this coming, and it’s my fault I didn’t, because I thought I was too good at this to slip up.”

This is similar to (a), but the emotion is more intense here. He’s more upset about it than he would be if he’d factored in the obvious fallacies in his plan: it’s very easy to lose someone in a sea of bodies. (Note that I say “more intense”. Much of Tim’s emotions are repressed behind a wall of “logic”, so they don’t seem to show a lot of the time, especially in his narration.)

Let me be clear: I do agree that Tim has insecurities, as does every other human character, but Tim is an arrogant know-it-all. He thinks he’s right, and you’re wrong, and he can and will be a smartass about it, because he’s been right so many times it’s inconceivable that he isn’t. So when it turns out his plans came out wrong, not only is it a blow to his identity, it’s also a blow to his ego. It’s incredibly upsetting to realise that your genius intellect doesn’t make you immune to being wrong.

Scarab puts this into words really well in RR#24:

Tim is so full of himself sometimes, it gets annoying.

What does he do next, though? He moves on. He improvises on his original plan, he jumps to the next related topic, he finds a way to fix this new problem that he’s got on his hands.

He finds out more about the assassination tournament. This pattern repeats itself throughout the RR run: Tim messes up, and then he just moves on. But of course, by virtue of being the main character and also a power fantasy, everything works out for Tim in the end, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Back to Tim’s relationship with failure.

c) Tim fails to do something someone else asks him to do. Whether by personal failings or by circumstance, Tim takes it the same way. This is an embarrassment to himself. Of course, his first instinct is to fix it, but sometimes you just can’t fix things. Now his response will depend on how important he views this expectation of him.

c)i) If it’s something he doesn’t take very seriously, or someone who’s not as important to his identity/ego/peace of mind, eg. at the beginning of RR when he first associates with Tam Fox, and he doesn’t really show much care about how she’s obviously traumatised by her experience with his RR work.

He doesn’t really care! Words are just words, especially so when it comes to Tim, and he’s not offering to do anything to make up for it.

c)ii) But if it’s important, if it’s someone whose approval he desires, eg. Batman and the no-kill rule, he gets defensive of himself, but internally he reacts very similarly to (a). Not anger or humiliation, but self-blame. “What is wrong with me?” is the operational self-accusation here. “Why can’t I fulfill his expectations?” A lot of the time this external expectation may be something Tim expects of himself. Thus failure, or even something close to failure, triggers this response in Tim.

After he attempts to kill Captain Boomerang in RR#26 and ultimately decides not to, he’s faced with Bruce’s disappointment:

And he defends himself. You can hear the denial and self-blame in there. He has to keep emphasis both to Bruce and himself the fact that he didn’t do it in the end. To be fair RR is more of an exploration of how far towards the deep end Tim will go, so it makes sense he’d be kind of ‘rebellious’. But still the defensiveness implies a certain kind of insecurity, that’s just it: Tim doesn’t want to disappoint Bruce, but he has, and it upsets him that he did. (Because Tim does need the approval of those around him, no matter what he tells himself.)

So, overall: Tim is a perfectionist. Not in the stereotypical manner of “I have to become perfect”, but in the sense that perfection is his natural state and any deviation from that is a failure. It’s simply not acceptable.

His first response to failure is usually to fix it immediately, and when that proves to be non-doable, or doesn’t work out, he flounders. And then he shoves it to the list of failures in his head that motivate him not to fail again, and moves onto other things. But his failures are always in the back of his mind, and he consistently (whether consciously or subconsciously) thinks about them, how he could have done things different, how he could have prevented that failure. He gets hung up on them, but it’s not debilitating.

You bet he remembers that one time when he was 5 and considered for a hot second the possibility of, say, Lex Luthor being Batman. He will never let it go. But that failure doesn’t cripple him - he learns from it, and now here he is. Better.

Hope this response made sense! And yes, all my canon examples are from RR because.. guess who hasn’t read much else? I’m starting on Robin, I promise.

[gaycrouton]

Pleeeeeaaaassssseeee!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 May we get a continuation of Bumpy Ride?

Ask and you shall recieve! If you missed it the first time around, here’s a link! Part I

———————————————————————

Mulder hadn’t been this worked up in a vehicle since he was in high school. He knew with the utmost certainty that he was going to embarrass himself and was already silently writing an apology novel to Scully in his head. He was affected by her on a normal day basis, catching a whiff of her perfume or getting a glimpse of her upper thigh when she crossed her legs. This was too much, overwhelming in the most literal sense of the word.

He’d been so self-absorbed in containing his own response that he wasn’t fully registering hers until…

…she…oh my god.

There was no doubt in his mind what was happening on his lap right now, every quiver and tremble sent a message loud and clear.

Scully was having an orgasm from the stimulation of sitting on him.

This didn’t feel real. There was no way this could even be possible. Yet, he could feel it and he could see the way she was trying to hide her face and the way she was clutching onto her legs, as if she could will it away with a white knuckle grip.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, drawing her back onto him. Then she went rigid in a completely different sense. The shaking had subsided, but he could practically feel the fear creep into her body.

He was just about to ask if she was alright when her trembling hands reached out and unbuckled them, sliding off his lap and out of the van without another word. “She okay?” Frohike asked while they watched her run into the warehouse.

“Uh, yeah. I’m sure she just had to go to the restroom,” he lied, trying to catch a glimpse of her retreating form.

“This is the first time I ever thought Scully was similar to Julius Caesar,” Langley remarked off hand.

“Why do you say that?” Frohike asked.

“Because I’m pretty sure she just spent this car ride getting stabbed in the back repeatedly,” Langley laughed pointing at Mulder’s still painful erection.

The front row laughed while Mulder tried to hunch over and hide himself, and Byers just shook his head. “Hey, the fact she didn’t have to sit in a puddle blows my mind,” Frohike teased.

“Okay, okay, okay. Cheap shots,” Mulder defended. He was pretty sure Langley had another lame joke coming when they heard Scully calling from a few meters away.

“Hey! There’s a body in here!” she yelled, pointing behind her.

Wow. That was just so, painstakingly and irritatingly, them. Something monumental happens in their relationship and they’re cock blocked by an actual dead body.

Aside from Scully taking a long look at the front of his pants, which seemed to be calming down at a painfully slow rate, she seemed completely comfortable in pretending like that never happened.

She wouldn’t look him in the eye, and she was clearly avoiding him.

Every single time he started to make his way over to her, she’d all the sudden need to talk to a policeman or help the medical examiner look at the body or just generally replace herself on the other side of the room.

He was distracted from his mission to get a moment alone with her when he had to answer a few questions about why they were there to being with and who the three squirrly guys were. By the time he was done, he looked around and couldn’t find her.

“Has anyone seen Agent Scully?” he called out.

He received a few shaking head before someone said, “She rode back to Georgetown with another officer.”

Of course she did.

He couldn’t blame her. If he’d have come on her, like he was just a minute away from doing in the van, he’d probably have never been able to face her again. But this was Scully - the same Scully who prided herself on professionalism. He couldn’t even imagine the horror she felt at the fact she was brought to orgasm on his lap.

On the ride back, he came to the decision that if she wanted to pretend it never happened then he’d respect her wishes. That night, however, as he laid on his couch in his apartment, his thoughts kept going back to her; how she felt when she was that close to him, how she felt when she was trembling, how much he’d give his arm to have it happen again. He just felt guilty knowing that everytime he thought back fondly, she was no doubt thinking back with abject horror.

He had to go talk to her. He couldn’t just let her suffer and beat herself up. Those were the thoughts that permeated his mind as he slipped on his pants and grabbed his shoes. He just had to-

*knock* *knock* *knock*

-answer the door right now. He dropped his shoes on the ground and raced to the front door, swinging it open and revealing a haggard Dana Scully.

“Hi,” he greeted breathlessly.

“Mulder, I just came to apologize for earlier,” she rushed, barely waiting for the word to leave his mouth.

He gaped for something to say before stepping back and opening the door more, inviting her in, which thankfully she accepted. “W-what are you apologizing for?” he asked, shutting the door and leading them to the couch.

She plopped down on the couch before she narrowed her eyes at him and he felt her analyzing him in that way he usually found hot, but right now intimidated the holy hell out of him. “W-why do you think I’m sorry?” she asked slowly.

Mulder realized she was taking this as a possible out, that if he didn’t know what happened that she could truly bury it into oblivion. Part of him considered giving her this out and just pretending that he hadn’t felt her rock his world earlier. But, he was a man who lived for the truth.

“Oh, um. Are you talking about when you had an-”

He didn’t have a chance to finish he sentence before she hid her face in her hands. “Oh my god. This is so embarrassing. I shouldn’t have come-here, that is. Oh my god.”

“No, no, no, Scully,” he murmured, taking a step towards her.

“What did you feel?” she asked, lowering her hands and revealing her glassy eyes.

“W-what did I feel?” he stammered. She nodded as a response and he gulped nervously. “I just felt you um-tremble. I swear that’s it.”

Her face was red, but she was actually looking at him now, small steps. “I was just over stimulated,” she stated plainly in defence of an accusation he’d never said. “It was my body’s physiological response to-”

“Scully, trust me. You felt my body reacting to the same thing,” he offered. She didn’t respond and he started to feel self-conscious. “I mean…you felt it. Right?”

She let out a little half-chuckle and affirmed, “Yes, Mulder. I felt it.”

“I understand why you might be embarrassed. I am too-”

“But you didn’t come Mulder,” she interrupted. “You were able to hold it in! I came all over you like a horny teenager!”

He felt his soft cock stiffen at her words and it was just an attestment to what he was about to say. “Scully, I’ve had plenty of practice over the last couple years. Trust me, it wasn’t easy,” he laughed.

He saw her ears perk up before he could even register his mistake. “Last couple years?” she repeated softly.

Fuck. If he hadn’t said that, she would have just guessed he meant in his youth. He exhaled nervously and ran his hand over his neck anxiously. “Well,” another nervous laugh, “you know,” he stated lamely.

She wasn’t letting up and fixed him with an intense stare. “No, I don’t.”

This was it. Scully was going to leave him. There was no getting out of this, so he may as well be honest and hope her moment of accidental perversion will be forgotten amid his entire life of it. “Scully, you’re a very beautiful woman,” he stated as if that was answer enough.

She blushed, but both her eyebrows raised in that way that asked ‘and’ without her mouth even having to open. “Sometimes, I just react to you.”

“React to me?” Apparently Scully’s newest method of interrogation was simply repeating your own words back to you and making you feel like you’re speaking a foreign language and need to try again.

“I’m very attracted to you, Scully,” he admitted, watching her mouth part in surprise as she digested his words. “Not just physically, but, god,” he exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face. “Everything about you. I never planned on telling you this because I don’t want you to think for a second it’s your weird male co-worker lusting after you, which, maybe in part it is, but it’s more than that. Ugh,” he was rambling and admitting too much and she was just sitting there in shock, surely about to storm off and leave any given second.

“I have a feeling I’ve already put my foot far enough in my mouth, but if we’re being honest and if it’ll make you feel better about what happened earlier, here it is: I have gotten more erections from you over the years that I wouldn’t even be able to count. I couldn’t even count how many times I’ve gotten them this month.” He hoped she was so distracted that she didn’t realize it was only the sixth. “You don’t even have to be doing anything. I could just get so much as a whiff of your perfume and get hard. So yeah, I’ve had plenty of experience trying to reign myself in.”

Her entire face was red and he knew he was embarrassing her, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself. “If you had been on top of me any longer, I promise you would have left with a wet spot on your back. It wasn’t just a sensory overload - it was a you overload.”

“I lied,” she whispered, biting her lip between her teeth and staring at him, surprisingly still on the couch and not halfway out of his apartment as expected.

“Lied about what?” He knew what a real female orgasm felt like and that was definitely it.

“It wasn’t just physiological,” she murmured, making his heart stop.

“What?” he asked slowly, not wanting to jump to conclusions out of hope.

“I…react to you similarly,” she admitted, quietly, fingering a frayed edge of his couch.

He felt a ringing in his ears, like all the blood had rushed to both the heads of his body and he felt dizzy. Surely she didn’t just admit what it sounded like. “W-what?”

“Mulder,” she whined in irritation.

“I’m sorry. I’m just-shocked,” he shrugged. He turned Scully on? He felt his crotch stirring at the mere thought of her thinking of him in that way.

“How?” she asked. “You’re a very attractive man, and we’re very close. It would only make sense that, um, we would be drawn to each other in that way,” she elaborated.

“I turn you on?” Mulder balked.

“Yes, Mulder. God. Do I have to spell it out for you? Yes. You arouse me. I came in the car because of you, not because of the situation,” she proclaimed, her face matching her hair.

And that was it. With those words his erection had turned from moderate to full-blown. It was painstakingly obvious and was tenting his pants painfully. He leaned in a bit in the hopes that it would slightly conceal it from him. “I feel like I’m dreaming,” he admitted shyly, laughing breathily.

She smiled at him sweetly before letting her gaze cast downwards. He gasped when she put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him to lean against the back of the couch, letting his erection strain painfully for her to see in its full glory. “So,” she started, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “That’s because of me?” she asked softly.

“Always,” he affirmed.

She looked at it unabashedly and then licked her lips, making his cock twitch noticeably, much to her apparent pleasure. He noticed her fidgeting a bit before she murmured something. “What was that?” he asked.

“Can I touch it?” she whispered, her eyes focusing on his to gauge his reaction.

She probably saw shock mixed with fervent desire. He wasn’t sure if he was alive or if she shot him earlier and he entered an alternate timeline, but, to be honest, he didn’t care. This was without a doubt one of the best moments of his life - just following “I’m Dana Scully. I’ve been assigned to work with you”, “the cancer’s in remission”, and “no, it didn’t.” His mouth felt incredibly dry, and he didn’t want to say anything that might fuck this up, so he just nodded.

He felt his breath hitch as she scooted closer to him, close enough that her knee was touching his leg. While she focused on the front of his pants, he focused on her face. He watched the way her eyelashes flitted against her cheeks and how her lip was raw from her teeth’s attention. She was beautiful, and the only thing that tore his gaze away from her was his eyes closing involuntarily when he felt her hand, ever so lightly graze across his lap.

He forced his eyes open and looked down to see her hand nervously resting on his upper thigh. Almost as if she was waiting for him to look, she slowly inched towards the bulge, extending her index finger out so she could slowly trace the outline of his penis inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he whispered with a shuddered breath, resisting the urge to buck up into her hand.

She licked her lips and extended her hand, palming him gently as she watched his face contort into pure ecstacy. “Oh my god.”

She kept doing that for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only two minutes, slowly stroking him with her thumb as her hand rubbed up and down his shaft. He was pulled back to reality by the sound of his pants unbuttoning as her fingers clasped his zipper. “M-may I?”

Another nod, followed by a gasp as she pivoted her body so that she was on her knees on the floor in between his legs, resting her elbows on his thighs. He couldn’t believe his eyes and if it wasn’t for his intense desire to see what she did next, he probably could have come from the sight alone. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear again before grabbing his belt and undoing it, using her full strength to whip it off and throw it to the side. The she resumed her position and went back to the zipper she’d grabbed before, only this time dragging it down slowly, the sound like a scream in the otherwise silent apartment.

She leaned a bit closer, close enough for her breasts to touch his thighs and he felt like he could faint from anticipation. She looked up at him and he hoped to god he didn’t look half as desperate as he felt in this moment. Luckily, whatever she saw must’ve been encouraging, because her dainty fingers hooked under the opening of his boxers and brought his erection out into the open air, right in front of her face.

She took him firmly in her hand, gauging how her fingers barely met around his girth as she rotated her wrist. She seemed fixated on how his foreskin shifted with each upward stroke and partially covered his head until it was tugged away by a down stroke. She continued playing with him like this until he was so erect, the foreskin was too taut to move.

Focusing on something new, she let her thumb collect some of the precum that had gathered at his tip and spread it around before bringing her fingers back to her lips and licking them clean. “Fuck, Scully,” he whimpered. That was, without a doubt, one of the hottest things he’d ever witnessed.

Her hand returned without pause, but she lifted herself higher on her knees, no longer sitting on her thighs just observing. She looked at him with dilated eyes as if to ask for permission again, then, without a doubt having received permission, she lowered her head, stuck her tongue out, and licked him from root to tip. He gasped and resisted the urge to let his head fall back. He had to see this.

Scully let her tongue circle around his tip before plunging his cock into her mouth without hesitation. He moaned loudly and his hips twitched. He felt her hum against him and he realized she was laughing at his eagerness. He didn’t know what she was doing, but fuck it felt good. The flat of her tongue was moving against him with every bob of her head as her hand cradled his scrotum.

This was Scully. Scully’s lips were wrapped around him right now. He was throat deep in his gorgeous, brilliant partner. He wanted to cry from happiness. She must’ve felt the telltale signs of his balls tightening, because she let her head up with an audible “pop” as she used her fingers to squeeze the base of his shaft, stopping his orgasm immediately.

Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes watery from giving the world’s best blowjob. She looked gorgeous. Instinctively, he grabbed her face and pulled her towards him as he leaned in, crashing their lips together in a passionate frenzy. He could taste himself on her as his tongue darted out to lap as her lip. He realized the ridiculousness of the fact she’d blown him before they’d even had their first, proper kiss, but they never did anything conventionally so why start now.

Her breathing was ragged against his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her and pushed her closer to him, mashing her breasts against his chest as he kneaded her ass. “Mmpph, Mulder,” she moaned into his mouth, breaking the kiss.

“Scully, you feel so good,” he groaned, nuzzling her cheek.

“Wait, let me take off my clothes,” she panted. Immediately he let go, not wanting to stop her from that specific task and quickly worked on discarding his own crumpled attire.

“Oh my god,” he groaned as her perky breasts bounced on her chest from the force of her whipping her bra off over her head instead of taking the time to unclasp it. She was just as excited as him.

He was naked in time to watch as she slid her underwear down her legs, leaving her completely nude in front of him. His eyes must’ve been bulging out of his head because she giggled sweetly. “Scully, you’re breathtaking.”

“You’re pretty beautiful yourself,” she murmured, hiking one leg over each of his thighs, making his heart start beating erratically.

“Wait, Scully. Did you want me to reciprocate before-?” he asked. Each answer was honestly a win win for him, he just wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

“Thank you, Mulder, but-” she took his hand from her hip and guided it to the apex of her thighs, parting her auburn-covered folds and letting him feel her velvety, smooth warmth.

She was absolutely fucking soaking wet.

“Do you feel that Mulder? That’s what I’ve been trying to hide. You do that to me so often. I’m tired of waiting,” she whispered.

He moved his hand, swirling around her hardened clit which made her whole body twitch in response as she sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. “Please,” she cried out.

Not wanting to torture either of them any longer, he lined up his head with her opening and watched as she sank down on top of him. They stayed like that for a moment and just stared at each other. “Wow,” she whispered, laughing lightly.

“You feel incredible,” he moaned, rocking slightly despite his attempts to sit still.

“Fuck,” she groaned, rocking her hips in response and encouraging him to buck back into her.

Her skin was lit by the dim glow of his shitty lamp, but god she looked like heaven and felt even better. She kept a steady pace on top of him as he leaned forward and captured a pert nipple in his mouth, making her squirm and pick up the pace. “Oh, Mulder,” she whimpered. Hearing his name said in that intonation in her voice was like audible sex.

He felt something shift by the side of his face and he turned to see it was her hand reaching down to - fuck.

She was touching herself. While riding him.

He watched in rapture as her middle and ring finger curved to circle her clit in purposeful strokes, making an erratic pattern of speed and pressure. He looked back to her face and watched as her brow furrowed in pleasure, her mouth open as she took staggered breaths. “H-harder,” she stammered.

Her wish was his command, so he wrapped his arms around her and effortlessly moved them so she was on her back as he picked up the pace from his position on top of her. He lowered himself a little bit so that with every thrust, her hand became trapped between his pubic bone and hers, grinding her fingers even harder against herself. “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes almost fluttering shut from the sensations, but she managed to keep them open. She wanted to see this as much as he did.

“Scully,” he praised, simply overcome with the pleasure of being inside her after years of dreaming about it. In response, she hiked her legs up so that her calves were resting against his sides, letting him plunge even deeper. “Fuck,” he groaned.

He picked up the pace and she gasped loudly, her brow furrowing once more as he felt her hand pick up the pace in between them. “That’s it, Mulder. Right there please don’t stop please don’tstop pleasedon’tstop” she demanded.

As if he could. He kept up, stroke for stroke, angling his hips to hit the spot that made her twitch against him. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, noticing how her dainty gold chain was intermingling with drops of sweat gathering at the hollow of her throat.

“OhmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodMULDER,” she cried as her entire body trembled and quaked, much like it had earlier. Except this time he allowed himself to follow suit, crying her name as he buried himself inside her and let go, expanding and releasing in a white hot blaze.

He kept rocking against her, pushing her hips into the couch cushion as they rode out their orgasms. As her shaking subsided into small twitches, he littered her face with kisses and words of affirmation. Eventually, she regained her senses and started smiling lethargically, puckering her lips against his skin in response to every sentiment.

“Hey Scully,” he prompted in a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I hope you never feel the need to apologize for coming again,” he teased

[dogbearinggifts]

klaus is treated like the family fuck up by everyone and its implied that its been that way for years vs vanya who thinks everyone sees her as the family fuck up but actually they were conditioned to keep her at a distance and then she later wrote her tell all which alienated them from her is never touched on and im dying to know how klaus and vanya feel about each others place in the family and how they would interact

Their dynamic would certainly be an interesting one, I think. 

I’ve struggled for a while trying to define their respective roles in that family. For a time, I’d categorized Vanya as the primary scapegoat and Klaus as the secondary, but now I’m thinking Klaus better fits the definition of a scapegoat while Vanya seems more like the black sheep. According to Webster’s Dictionary, a black sheep “causes shame or embarrassment because of a deviation from the accepted standards of his or her group,” while a scapegoat is “made to bear the blame for others or to suffer in their place.” 

This gets tricky, though. Vanya clearly “deviates from the accepted standards” set by Reginald, and we see that he explicitly excluded her because of it. She was left out of family pictures, made to sit at the end of the table, and never mentioned when Reginald introduced the other six kids to the media. Her siblings were conditioned to keep their distance (or Vanya was conditioned to keep her distance from them, or both) as children, but we see from an early scene that Diego doesn’t seem to care about her lack of powers as much as he cares about the book she wrote. When he says, “You don’t belong here,” he immediately clarifies it with “Not after what you did,” and his later “Got enough material for your sequel yet?” remark makes it clear that her book, not her lack of powers, is the source of his anger toward her. 

Yet with Klaus, it’s difficult to tell how much of his being treated as the family fuckup is the result of his fear of the dead, and how much is the result of his drug abuse. We see in the second episode that he began doing drugs as young as thirteen, but a later flashback establishes that he was already afraid of the dead and that this fear was known at least to Reginald. The two—drug abuse and fear of his own powers—are intertwined, and Reginald disapproved of both. However, Klaus is the only one who can see the dead, and he’s the only one who knows without a shadow of a doubt that they are not a pretty sight. I can easily imagine Reginald venting to his other kids about how Klaus was simply refusing to use his power, making himself dead weight because of a lack of backbone or what have you. Combine that with his addiction and all the ugly effects that would have on his relationships, and it’s no wonder why the other kids saw Klaus as next to useless. I’m not saying he deserves it; I’m simply saying that with all those factors in place, it was practically inevitable. 

But with that, we could also classify Klaus as a black sheep, since his fear of his powers and his addiction cause him to deviate from the standards of the group. I’d even go so far as to say that, at least prior to Vanya’s book, Klaus was probably held in even lower esteem than Vanya was. Vanya couldn’t help the fact she had no powers, after all; Klaus chose drug abuse to avoid using his. 

Vanya’s book probably changed the family dynamic. All of a sudden she’s accusing everyone in that family of hating her because she had no powers, intentionally mistreating her and making her life a living hell because of something beyond her control. The world now sees her siblings as the villains of her story, and those siblings have no way of countering what was said. “A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes,” after all. This anger toward Vanya probably would have taken some of the heat off Klaus; he might even have been treated as more of an equal, to a degree, as long as he was interested in venting about her book. 

As for how Klaus and Vanya would interact? It’s hard to say. Klaus probably now feels a bit of kinship with Vanya, now that he knows she was locked up just like he was; but she also nearly killed him and destroyed the entire planet. Does this mean she’ll have seven billion ghosts following her around? Will he be unable to look at her without seeing seven billion burned and battered souls pointing the finger at her as the reason for their death and begging him for help he doesn’t know how to provide? Or will traveling to an alternate timeline mean those deaths didn’t happen, and Klaus will only see Harold Jenkins and the murdered nannies tagging along behind her? 

On Vanya’s end, it’s hard to say how she’ll interact with Klaus until we see her state in Season 2. In the comics, after she survives, she is left with amnesia and a childlike state of cheer toward her siblings (who are Not Happy With Her At All). We don’t know if that’s how she’ll be in the show, but aside from that, how will she view Klaus? Does she resent him for fearing the powers she would have killed to have? Did he ever take advantage of her pity to feed his addiction? Does she remember his look of horror and the way he reached for the door, or does she deem that irrelevant? If he told her he was trying to make Ben corporeal again and set her free once he had backup, would she believe him? 

I hope Season 2 explores their dynamic, whatever it is. They’re two characters who occupy similar roles in the family, but there’s also a long and painful history between them. At the very least, I think we’ll learn a lot about the both of them from how they respond to one another. 

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Prison Break

Kidgeweek 2019, Day 3: Crime or Prison AU.

Summary: AU. Keith finds himself locked away after being accused of murdering Prince Lotor. Luckily, a new friend in the cell next to his may just be his ticket to escaping.

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net (under the username kishirokitsune)

Prison Break

Keith bared his teeth in an angry snarl as he was dragged down a hall of cells. The translucent barriers allowed a clear view of each of the prisoners kept there. Some of them jeered or slammed their hands against the barrier as he went by and others ignored him entirely, turning their backs so they didn't have to watch. The guards jerked him to a stop outside one of the cells and then shoved him inside hard enough that he went sprawling to the floor.

He growled low in his throat as he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, but refused to give them more of a reaction than that. His side still ached from their punishment after the last time he “misbehaved” and had no desire to go through that again.

Keith kept his back turned to the guards and waited until he heard the hum of the barrier activating and the sound of heavy footsteps walking away before he stood up.

And that was when the crushing weight of guilt settled over him. “What have I done?”

How had he messed up such a simple mission? He didn't understand. Things had been going so well until suddenly they weren't and Keith found himself surrounded by Imperial soldiers. He was lucky they didn't kill him on the spot!

Keith sat down on the hard mattress that was bolted to the wall and put his head in his hands, trying to think.

“So, what are you in for?”

Keith leaped to his feet, reaching for the blade he no longer had. “Who's there?”

“Take it easy! I'm in the cell next to you. There's a vent that runs between us. See it?”

He frowned and looked around, spotting the mentioned vent up near the ceiling. It was just big enough for a drone to fit inside, but Keith doubted he could fit more than his head through. “Do all of the cells have that? Why do I only hear you?”

“I couldn't say. I've only ever been in this one, but I'm pretty sure there aren't any others connected to us. For once thing, I only have one vent. How about you?”

“Yeah,” Keith responded after taking a second look. “Hey, how did you end up here?”

“Oh, you know, I just released a prisoner from a maximum security facility and caused too much structural damage for the prison to continue operating without extensive repairs. May have caused some panic.”

“Wait, you're the one who set that monster free?” Keith asked incredulously.

“Monster?” They laughed as though that was the funniest thing they had ever heard. “I'd hardly call Laika a monster. Overly excitable, maybe, but considering she has more of a taste for destroying sentries than any living thing, she's hardly a threat. I guess they had to put some kind of spin on my capture though. Can't let anyone know the truth.”

“And what is the truth?”

They were silent for a moment. “It hardly seems fair for me to do all of the talking. I don't suppose you'll agree to an even exchange of information?”

Every part of Keith's training dictated that he shouldn't do that. What if it was a trap to get him to admit his guilt? Though why they would go through such lengths when they already had him imprisoned, he didn't know. “I've been accused for the death of Prince Lotor,” he said carefully.

“Prince Lotor is dead?” they asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “But how? What happened?”

“You said this was an equivalent exchange,” Keith boldly pointed out.

There was another, softer laugh. “You're right. I did say that. The truth is, I was there to rescue a prisoner. Setting loose the warden's pet yupper was just an accident that worked in my favor.”

Keith swallowed nervously. He was going to be in so much trouble if anyone knew he was about to reveal his mission to a stranger. He really shouldn't say anything else. It was too risky. But he was so interested to hear what really happened at Beta Traz; it was information that not even the Blade of Marmora knew.

“I was supposed to guard Prince Lotor and gather intel on the person he was meeting with. It all happened so fast. I... I didn't know what to do. Looking back, it was clear we were set up. Someone knew about us.”

“Could be,” they agreed. “I think the empire was prepared for us at Beta Traz too. I bought enough time for my team to escape with the prisoner, but I wasn't so lucky. On the bright side, they've had two movements to come up with a plan to get me out of here! In three... two... one.”

Keith's jaw dropped as a clicking sound echoed down the hall of cells and then each of the barriers went out. All at once, there was a roar of noise as the other prisoners took notice and began to make their escape.

He ran to the door, determined to make a break for it before any of the guards caught on and reactivated the cells. Keith grasped the frame and swung himself around it, only to run smack into a tiny figure with long brown hair and glasses. His eyes went wide as he took in the green markings high on her cheeks. “You're-!”

“There's no time for that! You're coming with me,” she said, grabbing his arm without waiting for his agreement. She tugged him along, surprisingly strong for someone her size.

“Where are we going? And why me?” he asked as they split away from the other inmates, who seemed delighted to have a chance to wreak havoc on the facility.

“You can pilot a Galra ship. I can't,” she explained simply. “I'll give you the coordinates so I can meet my friends at our rendezvous point and then we'll make sure you get back to your friends as well. Deal?”

Another equivalent exchange. It seemed to be something important to her.

“Deal,” he agreed.

She was grinning as she increased her speed. “I'm Katla, by the way. But you can call me Pidge. All of my friends do.”

“I'm Keith. Well, Keithir, but-”

“Shh!” she hissed, yanking him into a darkened alcove.

He could hear the sound of sentries running by, too focused on their mission parameters to round up the rioting prisoners to pay them any mind. After a doboshe or two, Keith risked checking up and down the corridor.

“It's all clear.”

Pidge nodded and then they were off again.

Keith wasn't sure how she knew the way to go, but he wasn't going to complain as they made it to the ships without any problems. He hopped into the pilot's seat of the nearest one and reached down to help her up. Luckily, the hangar doors were already open, so all he had to worry about was familiarizing himself with the controls of the ship.

He took a deep breath and followed his gut instinct, hoping they were similar to the ones used by the Blade.

Within a few ticks, they were speeding down the landing strip and soaring out into open space. He toggled a few more switched and then pushed down the throttle, rocketing them away from the prison ship.

Next to him, Pidge “whooped!” in delight.

“How did you know all of that? About which way to go and that all of the cells would open up?” Keith asked.

Pidge grinned and tapped the frame of her glasses. “Believe it or not, they didn't think to check my glasses for any hidden tech when they locked me up. I haven't been able to send any messages out, but my friends have been able to send messages in. They told me when the cells would unlock and how to get to the hangar.”

“Impressive.”

“I know,” she said proudly. “I guess this makes us jailbreak buddies, doesn't it.”

Keith glanced at her, confused about what that had to do with anything. “I guess?”

“It means we have a bond. Who knows, maybe we'll work together again some day. After all, it sounds like we're working towards the same goal,” she said, shrugging.

“And what do you think that goal is?” Keith asked.

“Ending the reign of Emperor Zarkon.” Pidge said the words so matter-of-factly that Keith didn't hesitate to believe they were the truth. And what reason did she have to lie? She was clearly Altean and few had suffered at the hands of Zarkon and his soldiers more than her people.

“He has to be stopped,” Keith agreed. “The organization I'm with, we hoped Prince Lotor was the answer. And he seemed on board with our plans, but...”

“We hoped the same as well. He is – was – half Altean and he really sounded like he wanted to make things better. It's a set back, but if we all come together, maybe we can find another solution,” Pidge suggested, looking at him hopefully.

Keith wanted to try, but it wasn't up for him to decide. He could only wait and hope that everything would work out. And in the even that Kolivan rejected the idea of working with Pidge and her friends...

Well, it wouldn't be the first time Keith rebelled against orders.

“You said something about coordinates?” he asked.

Pidge beamed up at him, happy to give him what he wanted.