#like the chars act just goofy and over the too enough for them to be. just a scosch hammered honestly

[bubaluv]

So I linked a clip of this Trivia Trot episode on my twipie bingo but I didn't watch the whole clip, I just went back and watched it and WOW these horses lesbian

#especially in the appledash category ironically #i just love the banter in this episode a lot #i wouldn't doubt it if the vas came up with most of these lines #RDs RIGGED and **don't choke** GOT me #it may be because it's 2am but like. with only the slightest of tweaks this could deadass be a bar trivia episode #like the chars act just goofy and over the too enough for them to be. just a scosch hammered honestly #like bear with me idk if this makes any sense but in a bizarre alternate universe where the show is more adult #i could see this being like a late season 1 breaking the ice episode 💖 #where you see all the characters be a little less restrained and they all bond over seeing these goofy sides of themselves #my mind is an enigma this absolutely exists in my brain now #/slaps myself/ dont make another au dont make another au DONT make another au #also ignore the heart in one of the prev tags my hands are dumb lol

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily | Pt. 10

warnings: none ig?

Eventual Zuko x Reader

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get this up! I took some time with my family over the holidays and struggled a little to get back into Writing Mode. This chapter is very focused on Y/N, and at this point she’s basically blocking out thoughts of You-Know-Who. She’s got more important things to worry about. Also, I just feel like Sokka and Y/N would vibe. I think anyone who would end up with Zuko would have to get along really well with Sokka. Anyway, enjoy!

Fire Lily Masterlist

Y/N found ways to be useful and tried to stay distracted. It turned out to be very useful, having a firebender on their ship. And, as it turned out, Y/N could make a career out of acting. Even Toph said so, which Y/N felt was quite the feat.

There were, of course, whispers about her. Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew that not everyone trusted her. But Katara seemed to, for whatever reason, and Sokka was slowly coming around. Toph already liked her well enough.

“Where’d you learn that?” Toph asked Y/N as they sat in the small room that they shared with Sokka and Katara in the belly of their ship. “I’ve been meaning to ask. I recognized your bending. Those are earth bending forms.”

“I wondered why they weren’t so… Ka-pow!” Sokka punched the air for emphasis. Sokka tended to be very goofy, Y/N had noticed in the past few weeks aboard the ship. But Y/N could also tell he had a tactical mind. Sokka was crazy intelligent; you could tell even from his nonsensical rambles.

“My father gave me an earthbending scroll when I was little.” Y/N thought back to the moment. It had been a surprise when he came back from a visit to the city. “He thought it might help me, even if it’s not the same kind of bending.”

Y/N didn’t mention that she spent most of her time neglecting practicing. She didn’t want to firebend at all for a long time. But in the past few weeks, the others had needed it. So, Y/N delivered. Casually lit a flame in her hand to trick enemy ships.

Y/N didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but it felt good, even in small moments.

“Well, it sure does work!” Sokka replied, putting his arms behind his head as he leaned back on his cot. “You know, Fire Girl, I wasn’t sure what to think of you at first, but you’ve really helped us out.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s been great kicking some Fire Nation butt with you,” Toph agreed. Sokka and Y/N laughed. There really hadn’t been much butt-kicking, but it was a nice sentiment. Y/N had mainly stood back and let the others lead the way when they’d captured the ship from Chameleon Bay.

Sokka had actually offered to spar with her with the hook swords. Y/N had declined for the moment. She kept the hook swords underneath her cot. She’d have to rely on what bending she could do, for now.

“And,” Sokka added with a smile, “I think we look great in the armor.”

It was nice, Y/N thought, to sit and laugh with Sokka and Toph. They didn’t trust her completely yet, and with good reason. But Y/N had a feeling that they could get there.

And it was nice to laugh despite their situation. Aang wasn’t awake yet, and Katara spent every moment she could by his side when she wasn’t providing the ship with fog cover. But here she could light the lanterns and take a minute to laugh. It was almost better than the tea shop.

Almost.

Y/N tried not to think about Lee—Zuko. She had to keep reminding herself about that. He wasn’t her friend, not really. He wasn’t from the Earth Kingdom at all. He was Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. A firebender. And apparently obsessed with hunting the Avatar, as Sokka kept saying.

The Avatar. Y/N hadn’t been there when it had happened—when the lightning struck Aang down. Azula’s lightning, and Zuko had joined her. Y/N’s sadness and anger was almost overshadowed by heavy disappointment. The boy that she had known was grumpy but kind as well as caring. She remembered the careful hand he’d placed over hers. Lee would’ve jumped out of the palace with Iroh, and she would’ve followed him. But Y/N knew Lee was gone.

“The armor isn’t very comfortable,” Y/N noted, leaning back on her cot and enjoying the feeling of her light clothes after a day up on deck.

“Sometimes you have to suffer for fashion, Y/N,” Sokka joked. “Speaking of fashion, I think we all need some new clothes. You guys stink.”

“Speak for yourself.” Toph reached over to punch Sokka in the arm. Y/N laughed. Sokka wasn’t wrong—she was wearing the same clothes that she had been when she went to the palace in the first place. While they had been washed, they had definitely seen better days. There were a few tears in the sleeves of her dress, and it was stained with dirt, and the neck was starting to stretch out.

Y/N was grateful that they’d managed to find her a pair of pants on board, although they did look a bit ridiculous with her rag of a dress over it. The apron she had was tossed overboard shortly after they had reached the boat. Y/N might have set it on fire first, but that was nobody’s business.

Y/N had trouble sleeping on the ship some nights. It was always rocking at least a little bit. But she had a cot and having other people in the room turned out to be a comfort. There was the constant rhythm of Sokka and Toph’s breathing, and then Katara’s when she would finally slip in after hours spent watching over Aang.

Y/N’s months spent traveling felt so far behind her, but she could remember when she had to sleep outside on the ground, sometimes in the middle of the woods, if soldiers were nearby. Luckily, lighting a fire was always easy, if not terrifying. Y/N curled up under her blanket and let the soft sounds of the ship lull her to sleep.

“You’re a liar. If you would have just told the truth I would still be here.” Y/N recognized the voice, but she couldn’t see it. Everything was dark. Her hook swords were in her hands.

“Why did you have to let me take the fall?” Jet’s voice whispered.

“I didn’t mean to,” Y/N called back, desperately. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Y/N, calm down!” Suddenly, her brother was in front of her, holding out a hand. Y/N looked down and saw the molten metal of the hook swords dripping down onto the dirt, handles charred beyond repair.

“I can’t,” Y/N’s chest heaved. “I can’t.”

“Listen to me, Y/N,” Bihun said, stepping closer. “I don’t have much time.”

Suddenly, Bihun’s hand seemed to begin to fade, bits and pieces of it seeming to float off into the air like ash.

“Y/N, look at me.”

Y/N finally tore her eyes away from the burnt handles of her swords and met her brother’s eyes.

“Boiling rock, Y/N. Don’t forget it.” Bihun’s entire right arm was gone now, grey bits of ash floating through the air. Bihun smiled kindly, and Y/N wished so desperately to reach out to her brother, to hug him, but her feet felt stuck to the ground. “Now wake up.”

---

Y/N awoke, sweat sticking pieces of hair to her forehead. She wiped it away. Y/N was startled as she noticed Toph standing over her.

“Finally, sleepy head. Up and at ‘em.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Y/N swatted, pushing her blanket off of her before standing. “Where are we today?”

“Heck if I know,” Toph responded, turning away to lead Y/N out the door. “That’s a Sokka question. I can’t see anything past this ship.”

“Am I up on deck again?” Y/N asked, changing the subject.

“You’re the only firebender we have, Y/N, even if you aren’t very good,” Toph stated in answer.

Y/N frowned at the slight insult, although it was true. She knew little beyond a few earthbending forms, but she was the only firebender on the ship. If they came across other Fire Nation ships, she was their best shot at convincing them to let their ship pass.

“Go get your gear on,” Toph said, pulling her own brown cloak over her head. Y/N was a bit jealous of Toph’s very lightweight disguise—the first time she put on the Fire Nation armor she had almost fallen over. She also wanted to puke a little bit when she saw herself in the mirror.

After a solid ten minutes of struggling—a great improvement from the twenty it had taken the week before—Y/N placed the heavy helmet over her head, opting to keep the face plate tucked away in a pocket for now. She didn’t particularly like having her face covered. It made her feel less like herself and even more like a Fire Nation soldier, although it did come in handy to have her facial expressions hidden when they came across other ships.

Y/N made her way up to the top deck of the ship with only slight difficulty. The Fire Nation armor was much more mobile than she had imagined.

Y/N blinked at the sudden brightness of the sunlight streaming down onto the ship. The open ocean was already enough to deal with, but no one had ever said anything about how hot metal ships could get with the unblocked sun shining down on them all day. Luckily, Katara seemed to be periodically dousing the deck with sea water.

“Y/N!” Sokka called, walking over to where Y/N was standing. He was also in his Fire Nation get-up, but he wasn’t wearing the faceplate either. “Ready for another day?”

“Sure,” Y/N deadpanned. “It’s too hot to function.”

“Where’s that fiery spirit, huh?” Sokka grinned, bumping Y/N with his elbow. “Get it?”

“No,” Y/N lied, trying to ignore the terrible joke. “Do you know where we’re at?”

“Not really,” Sokka admitted. “My dad tried to describe the general area to me, but I haven’t spent enough time looking at the Fire Nation maps.”

“I’m just glad we’re through that pass,” Y/N shuddered. “As long as we don’t go back there.”

“Yeah, the Serpent’s Pass is… difficult,” Sokka agreed. “Keep an eye on the water and let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded. “Any news on Aang?”

“Not yet,” Sokka frowned. “But I have a good feeling about today.”

“Sokka!” Hakoda called from across the deck, waving an arm to beckon his son.

“Duty calls!” Sokka dismissed, turning and leaving Y/N to look out onto the wide expanse of sea.

The one advantage of Y/N’s position is that she wasn’t usually asked to do many chores. Not that she would mind helping, but Hakoda had said that they never wanted to have to struggle to find her if they came across another ship.

The clear sky clouded halfway through the afternoon, darkening the sea beneath them and turning the sky a depressing gray. “What was that about a good feeling?” Y/N asked Sokka nervously as he came over, three scrolls tucked under his arm.

“It’s not storming, is it?” Sokka pointed out, sitting down on the floor of the ship, armor clanking. “Look at these maps with me.”

Y/N hesitantly took a seat next to him, sliding the helmet off of her head to wipe the sweat from her brow. She enjoyed the cool breeze that swept by. Sokka took his faceplate out of his pocket to put on the edge of the scroll to hold it down.

It was a map of the Fire Nation, Y/N realized. The country was shaped almost like a loop of islands, Y/N realized, with the capital city of Caldera, home to the Fire Nation palace in the center of it all.

“We’re about here, I think.” Sokka pointed to a blue spot on the map, just off the shore of the Earth Kingdom.

“By the colonies,” Y/N realized, gasping lightly. She hadn’t realized how close they were to her home.

“Yeah,” Sokka said nonchalantly, before seeing the look on Y/N’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I hadn’t realized we were this close. I used to live there.” Y/N pointed to another spot on the map, her finger nearly touching Sokka’s on the scroll. “Just a handful of miles north.”

Y/N stood, looking to the north. Land was just barely visible in the distance. Somewhere on that piece of land, a little way inland, was her parents’ home. She briefly wondered if they were still there.

“That’ll be our first stop after the invasion, then,” Sokka offered. “Well, maybe not the first stop. But it really would be a good waypoint on our way to… whatever’s next.”

“What is next, Sokka?” Y/N asked. She surprised herself with the question. She realized none of them knew what a life without the war was like. Even when Y/N was too young to be aware of it, it had affected her.

“I’m not sure,” Sokka admitted, looking at Y/N with kind eyes. “But’s it going to be awesome.”

“Do you know what ‘boiling rock,’ might mean?” Y/N looked back down at the map. It was silly, her dream wasn’t real. But weirder things could happen, she was sure.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a landmark of some kind. But it’s not on this map.” Sokka recognized Y/N’s expression fall. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Y/N assured him. “Just thought I’d heard of it somewhere.”

---

Y/N was not prepared for when the Avatar stepped out onto the deck that night. She had been the only one who hadn’t gone to visit him while he was out. She felt like it was wrong. She didn’t really know any of them well, least of all Aang. And Katara watched over him like a hawk. Y/N felt like she needed the privacy.

Y/N also did not take into account how Aang might react when she casually lit a torch for Hakoda with her firebending. She hadn’t thought of how backwards the Avatar’s world would seem when he first awoke. It was weird for all of them, but at least they were conscious for most of it.

Y/N sat with Sokka and Toph as Katara spoke with Aang and brought him back inside for another healing session.

When the Avatar resurfaced again, Sokka brought Y/N and Toph over to where Aang and Katara were sitting to explain the invasion plan.

“We’re working on a modified version,” Hakoda added.

“It’s Sokka’s plan,” Katara snapped before turning back to Aang. Y/N had sensed some tension between Katara and her father since arriving on the ship—she had seen the other girl storm off a few times. It appeared that she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Sokka’s plan,” Hakoda looked at his daughter out of the corner of his eye, a confused look on his face. “We can’t execute a massive invasion without the Earth Kingdom’s army, but the Fire Nation is still vulnerable.”

“So, we’re planning a smaller invasion,” Sokka explained. “Just a ragtag team of our friends and allies. We’ve already found Pipsqueak and the Duke.”

Pipsqueak and the Duke waved from where they were chowing down on noodles a little way across the ship.

“And our biggest advantage is we have a secret… you!”

“Me?” Aang blinked.

“Yep!” Sokka said proudly. “The whole world thinks you’re dead!”

Aang’s face paled. The Avatar stood quickly and ran to the side of the ship. Y/N wondered if he was about to be seasick over the side. She averted her eyes. Sokka stood to go and reassure Aang.

Y/N looked out over the ocean on the other side of the ship and noticed the shadow approaching. “Hey, there’s a ship!” Y/N called. Sokka and Aang turned around to look.

“I’ve got this.” Aang’s glider snapped open. “The Avatar is back.”

“Wait!” Katara rushed to Aang’s side. “Remember, they don’t know we’re not Fire Nation.”

“We’ve got it,” Hakoda said, putting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I hate not being able to do anything,” Aang muttered.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Sokka reassured him. “We’ve got a firebender on our side.”

“What?!?” Aang looked around frantically. Y/N gave a shy wave. She’d have to explain that later.

Katara helped Aang and the others get below deck as the ship came into view. A man in a uniform matching Y/N and Hakoda’s called out to them. Y/N took the faceplate out of her pocket and slid it into place.

“Commander, why are you off course? All Western fleet ships are to be moving toward Ba Sing Se to support the occupation.”

“We’re from the Eastern Fleet, actually,” Hakoda corrected. “We’re delivering cargo.”

“Nice of Admiral Chan to let us know…” The Fire Nation commander replied. Y/N got a sinking feeling. They weren’t convinced.

“Are you questioning my authority?” Y/N called out, praying to the Spirits that she sounded confident and in-charge.

“Who exactly are you?” The commander questioned. Y/N thought of a lie—a Fire Nation name she had heard from home.

“Captain Yai,” Y/N replied as smoothly as she could manage. “And who are you?”

“Commander Muso,” the man replied. “I didn’t know Admiral Yai had a daughter.”

“I didn’t know our army promoted insolent men to command,” Y/N answered.

“I didn’t know our army promoted a girl to command,” Muso sneered. Y/N dared to light a fire in her palm and watched as Muso recoiled.

“I would hate to have to issue a challenge, Commander. Be on your way.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am.”

“Captain,” Y/N corrected.

“Yes, Captain,” Muso amended glumly, motioning to his men. Before long, the Fire Nation ship was pulling away. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“That was awesome, Y/N!” Toph cried as the others emerged from below deck.

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled.

“And that was a really lucky guess with Admiral Yai,” Sokka added.

“I know!” Y/N felt the excitement catch up to her. She had been pretty cool.

“Nice work, Captain,” Hakoda praised, giving Y/N a pat on the shoulder. Y/N smiled as the Fire Nation ship faded out of sight.

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #atla fanfic #y/n and sokka just vibe #the gaang #book 3: fire #kataang #Hakoda is the best dad #Firebender!y/n #fire lily

[shhhhhskars]

Intimate Things happen in Pools.

Ask that inspired it 1.  / Ask that inspired it 2.  Intimate. BBQ/Pool Day. Age Gap tings. Family Lovin’ (Bill & Valter). Angst. Tension. Awkward early stages with Alexander. Words: 1,643. Sometimes you just need some...sof, intimate Alex tings..as always, hope you enjoy. 

“Valter, if you keep staring at me, I will absolutely throw your ass in here. That’s a promise.”

Alexander launched the soft blow-up ball into the air, directly towards his younger brother who was stretched out on one of the sleek, wooden pool chairs. Valter was living his best life, with sun screen slathered down his nose and cheekbones. He sported some worn, beige camouflage swim trunks and a crisp white tee. The ball hit his leg and bounced off, and he had to raise his tortoise Ray-Bans off his face, to the top of his head, to really comprehend what the fuck was good with this old idiot. He cursed something awful in Swedish, giving Alexander a good glare.

“Fucker. I was not staring at you two...whatever the hell two are. I was just about to fall asleep.”

“Valteeeer, that mouth....that mouth..” Alexander warned with a jokey tone.

You stifled a laugh at their exchange, they were holding off giggles of their own. You two were not low, and you were both trying entirely too hard to be.

“That mouth, that mouth.” Valter imitated in low, annoying whine. “Suck my di..”

“AYE. Watch your mouth, there are children around,” Bill interrupted, leaving Valter with his foot in his mouth, but Bill beckoned his head towards you with a little smirk. You were much younger than the man you came with, closer in age to his youngest brother. Bill was trying to be funny and you scoffed, rolling you eyes at him. “Get off me.” you snapped back at him with a small smile. It was clearly meant it to be a joke, and Bill received it, pleased with your little attitude, chuckling under his breath at the exchange. Alexander shot you two a glance from the side of his eye, shifting in the water, clearing his throat a little awkwardly.

Shady Boots, Bill, shady boots.

It was no surprise that Valter was stealing glances at you and Alexander, though. It was still so new, and the whole thing had you two moving...goofy. You were both in the large, heated pool, but maintained a odd distance, just enough to be in range to comfortably speak to each other, but yet far enough to look like separate floating entities.

You were doing your thing, enjoying the cool water on your skin, and the feeling of the sun on your face. Usually chlorine nauseated you, but today, mixed with the smell of IPA and the char from the grill, it covered you with pure joy. But still...this was freakishly new for you. Yes, you’d met his friends, and it was fine, casual, calm. Everyone was cool, there were a few raised eyebrows, but all in all, it went well. But when he mentioned the word family- that was a whole new ball game entirely.

The Virgo Man. The eldest, who wore that title with pride. The one who wants harmony between his siblings, even when they’re all distracted with their six different projects. Always sending something in the group chat to try and get everyone together. The strong friend. That was Alexander, that was his assumed role. So....yes, it was a lot.

Somehow, he had convinced you to tag along to a backyard barbecue at his brother’s place. You had hesitated, when you saw the text message, but it was hard to resist, what were you doing anyway? And now here you were, in a tiny black bikini in Bill’s pool, on a deliciously warm Summer evening. It was a slew of them, and they were all different in their own way, that was Alexander’s disclaimer.

But even with the distance...you two were giddy for each other. The tension and chemistry that floated between you two made the air feel thick, even though you were outside. It didn’t take much to pick up on it, the buzz between you two. Even with the distance... Alexander gazed over at you. He ran his tongue over his lips, you looked so good soaking wet, and so did he.

And the water. The water played a whole different part in the sensation between you two. You were both tanning from being in there for some time, and his shoulders were turning a golden shade that looked good enough to eat. Smooth and supple skin with the beads of water that clung to it. A rosy blush was permanently forming over his nose and cheeks. The sunlight reflecting off of the water made his eyes look even more light blue than usual, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips, tasting the water on your face.

He wasn’t shocked to see your body, if anything, it excites him. You looked good, almost naked, bikini hugging over your hips and curves. You felt exposed. But there was a part of you that wanted to feel sexy like this in front of him. Your smooth rich skin was desperate to be out for the Summer.

Now and again, a slew of murmurs and whispers would come shuttling out from your corner of the pool. You would swim closer to him, and he’d grab at your ankle under the water, pulling you dangerously low and closer to him.

“Think they’re fucking?” Valter whispered to Bill, nonchalantly swiping through his Twitter feed.

“Of course they’re fucking.” Bill responded without hesitation, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.

It’s invigorating and tempting, all at once, being this close to Alexander in the water, and you wrap an arm around him, coming entirely too close to his face, examining the beauty that is him. You’re both drunk off of the feeling, smiling like goofballs, you biting at your lip to stop yourself from grinning too hard. But your cheeks hurt, from all the smiling. His eyelashes are slick with water, coated, little drops sitting on them like morning dew on a leaf. It amazes you once again how men always seem to have the best fucking eyelashes, and you move your arm from around him.

“Your lashes. They are so long. Put me on to your secret,” you said with a little giggle, wadding to keep yourself up. He glanced back over at Valter and Bill. Bill’s head buried in a book, Valter, snoozing lightly, and he reached for your hips under the water, grabbing you into him again. “Yeah? You wanna know my secret?” he taunts in a low voice, pulling you awfully close to his body in the water. You’re in the deeper side of the pool, far away from his siblings, and you feel terrified and flushed all at once, from not being able to put your feet on the ground. It’s an intoxicating feeling, and the breeze is blowing harder now, a little chill coming into the air. Hair slick on your back, the wind sends a shiver down your spine, and you shudder outwardly in the water, wrapping your legs around his waist, putting your arms around his neck. He holds you steadily in the water. 

“I’ll tell you tonight. Alright?” he whispers with a swallow, slowly swiping his tongue over his light pink lower lip. You sigh into his touch, of the feeling of his large hands holding your waist and cradling your lower back in the water, Your eyes on his lips and that tongue, following it as it entered and exited his perfect mouth. You squeezed your legs tighter on him, taking another small breath and giving him a shaky little nod. “Okay.” you replied simply. You didn’t know what that meant explicitly...but yet, you did. Something was coming tonight, you had the urge to release the tension you felt gathered in the pit of your stomach, just below your belly button. You never broke eye contact, and you so badly wanted to put your tongue on his, you could feel yourself getting wet even in the water. But Bill. And Valter.

It hit you all at once- you felt tired, exhausted and worst of all- frustrated. “Hey...can you..?” you nudged your head towards the shallow side of the pool, beckoning for him to carry you out. He scanned your face it like he always did, and as if he could sense how you felt, he nodded. You were ready to be taken out, and he knew it. “I got you..” he said firmly, swimming you both easily over to the more shallow side, your body steady on his  and close to him under the water. 

You wanted a warm shower...or maybe a cold one. He had you so easily, weightlessly, even though you were acting as a stagnant weight on him. You let him take you, and before you knew it, you were back on the shallow side, and that awkward, painful distance was returned again. Another cold, chilly breeze blew, and some of the solar lights were staring to flicker on, the night beginning to fall. You glanced at Alexander, only to see a look of pure primal need on his face, eyes gazed over, nibbling on the side of his lip. He was hot and bothered, silently trying to collect himself after that little exchange in the corner. You, felt the same, flushed, and you tried to mask it, averting your eyes away from his. The passion between you burned at an all time high.

“Any longer, you two will turn into floaties, or some shit.” Valter cracked, shamelessly breaking the silence with a snicker. It was silent for such a while, it was strange hearing someone break it. Bill looked up from his novel with a small, knowing grin, his eyes shifting between you and Alexander, making you uncomfortable. You groaned at Valter’s comment, and also, Bill’s eyes, silently using them as a reason to trudge yourself out of the pool and head for the outdoor shower area, with Alexander at your heels.

#asks #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard fan fic #alexander skarsgard drabbles #alexander tings #askarsgard imagine #askarsgard #askarsgardask #fan fic #drabbles #writing

[darlingsdevil]

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 10: And Miles to Go Before I Sleep

Masterlist

A/N: I love torturing you guys :)

Warnings: blood and violence

•••

It had been two days, two days after you had ran away from Lee’s home. You set up a small camp about four miles from the city, the wildlife was abundant so you had little trouble finding food. It took some getting used to the gamey meat and the tortuous action of hunting, it had been awhile since you had the need to hunt after all. The nights were mild, as summer was quickly approaching again. Just over a year ago you lived a completely different life, with completely different people, but now the main person in your old life had returned, disrupting the one you were currently building.

You tried not to think of Arthur or Lee, the wedding was 12 days away, and you were sure you would be back before then, but Lee would be furious with you. He had changed when Arthur arrived, it scared you to no end. He was vicious and jealous, nothing like the sweet and goofy Lee you knew.

Arthur was different too, but in a good way. He wasn’t overcome with illness and stress and you could see it in the short time you were with him. He held himself to a higher standard. There was so much to catch up on.

The woods were freeing and left you with lots of time to think. Perhaps you should have gone out farther, but truth be told, a part of you wanted to be caught. The woods were no place for a newly turned city girl, but your roots lie in the trees, as they always would.

You went fishing in a small creek with a makeshift spear. Survival activities were the only thing keeping you from boredom, no wonder you always went on odd jobs with Arthur while living in camp. There was nothing to do. Atleast your job with Lee kept you busy, it was fun work too.

The sun was high in the sky, it’s warmth radiated onto you and made the clear waters glisten in the rays. It was peaceful.. the perfect remedy for a jumbled mind. After missing a particularly large fish you threw your spear down with a thud. You sighed heavily, looking out towards the city.The creek was on higher ground, which overlooked the fields between you and Richfield, and then you noticed something in the distance.

Around fifteen men, clad in blue trotting along to your hideaway. They had bloodhounds too, expert tracker dogs, you would have to be smart to hide your scent. They looked to be about two miles out. The police were searching for you now, you had to be quick to hide. You knew Lee would send an army to find you, you were surprised Arthur hadn’t found you yet.

You cursed under your breath, you picked up your spear and knife that you kept hidden underneath your skirt, you quickly doused yourself in the water in hopes to lose a bit of your scent. You rushed to your temporary home, feeling the cold bite of your dampened clothes. You kicked dirt over the unlit bonfire, attempting to hide the charred timbers. Luckily, your camp was hidden behind a thicket of trees and was hard to spot and far off the main road. But there were tracks from the mud made during the storm, and hopefully they wouldn’t give you away just yet.

There was nowhere to hide that you new of, your best bet would be to cross the river you knew of that many travelers used to get into Richfield as it led to the pier. But the river was at least another two miles, you were unsure if you could outrun fifteen men on horseback. These men were police however, not manhunters, they wouldn’t find you as easily as a bounty hunter would. If it resorted to that, Lee would put a bounty on your head if they couldn’t find you, eventually. You wouldn’t drag it on that long, just enough to clear your head completely. Or perhaps it was just stubbornness.

You packed what little belongings you had in the satchel you had taken with you, and began sprinting towards, what you hoped, was the river. Pure adrenaline rushed through your veins as you understood the gravity of the situation.

It felt like forever as you ran, effortlessly avoiding the main trail, the brush of trees made it somewhat difficult to follow but you still managed. The further you went into the forest, the darker it got. It was silently eerie, the only sound was the crunching of the forest floor underneath your feet.

Suddenly you came to a formation of rocks as the land delved upwards again. There was a small opening, hidden by a tree. A cave! You had no time to fret, it was the perfect hiding spot, even though the river was your best shot, you couldn’t outrun that many men, especially as your breath had ran out half a mile ago.

Upon further inspection, you realized that the small ‘opening’ was actually rather large but was well hidden. You snuck in, quietly, hoping to wait out the men and the dogs. You were still soaked, just ran a mile and a half, ran through the forest while tripping over fallen logs and roots and now you were in a smelly cave. Perhaps you should have just stayed home.

You walked about twenty feet into the cave, it was much longer than you would have expected and seemed to go further down, possibly leading to an underground cave system. It stunk of festering flesh, like something had died here recently, you decided not to venture further. There was a large boulder to hide behind, you could still see the entrance clearly.

•••

It was around an hour before you heard the far off howling of the hounds and shouts from the men. You held your breath, waiting for them to pass you, you clutched your knife tightly, in case any of the men, if they did find you, had any funny ideas.

Your name was shouted multiple times followed by “where are you?”. You were silent, frozen, and watching the entrance with attentive eyes.

Ten minutes later, and they were near right outside the cave. You mentally cursed yourself, those dogs would find you. The men wouldn’t venture into the cave but the dogs sure would.

You heard the police officers shouting to one another, stating that the trail had ended around here.

A dog walked past your hidden cave, and you froze. It’s muzzle sniffed along the ground, it’s ears flopping against the dirt.

It had gotten darker out, the sun nearly setting. They would be stupid to not turn back for the night if they didn’t find you, but the odds were greatly against you, you were sure you would be found.

The howling of wolves saved you.

The men began cursing, pulling out their rifles. The dog outside your cave became spooked, barking rapidly, it’s tail in a defensive stance. The horses whinnied, and soon enough you heard them galloping away, terrified. Gunshots pierced the air, making you jump in your place.

A wolf whimpered, another shot dead from what you heard. Then another, and one more. The men began retreating as the remaining wolf did too. The police officers would have to find the bloodhounds, horses and you now.

But then it dawned on you.

The festering smell, a large cave, a pack of wolves.

You were in a wolf den.

The wolf retreated into the cave, it stuck its nose up and sniffed the air.

You clutched your knife so tightly that your knuckles were white. You had fought off wolves before, with guns, never with a knife. It was only one wolf, you had somewhat decent chances, but you were rusty from a year of no practice.

The wolf bared its teeth after smelling you in the cave. It began running towards your boulder, you jumped out from the rock as it barreled towards you, the silver glint of the knife mirroring the vicious teeth of the wolf. It was a large gray wolf, possibly the alpha.

The wolf tackled you to the ground, it’s heavy paws pining you to the floor, it tried to take a bite out of your neck with its strong jaw, but you held back its face with your arm.

It growled against you, you stabbed it in the side as you struggled to get out of from its grip. Its paws dug into your chest, making you grunt in pain.

The wolf snapped at your neck, it was too strong for you, you had to act quickly. You stabbed the wolf again, this time deeper into its side. It whimpered in pain but still fought you. The knife became slippery with blood, and it felt from your hand.

You immediately reached for the knife that clattered to the rocky ground. The wolf took its chance and bit you in the arm, you screamed in pain as you fought it off.

You used your last remaining bit of strength to kick it in its side, where you had stabbed it twice. It only faltered for a moment, and was instantly on you in another.

The knife was just barely out of reach, your fingertips nearly touching the blade. The dog shifted, and you were able to grasp the knife.

You stabbed it blindly. Again and again.

The wolf fell off you with a thud. Its whimpers slowly died out.

Blood pooled from your chest in arm, where it tore flesh.

That was a lot of blood.

Your mind still raced with instinct, your breathing had not yet slowed down.

It would be so easy to just stay here.

Maybe someone would find you.

No. If you stopped to rest you would die from blood loss. You had seen it take other people before, it would not take you.

You ripped a piece of your skirt to make a tourniquet. It could only be applied to your arm, there were too many holes in your chest to stop it all. You tied the fabric tightly around your arm, it hurt awfully.

Your picked up your knife, slowly making your way to the entrance of the cave. It was much darker now.

The air was colder than it had been during the day. You shivered against the cold. The main trail was east, or perhaps west of the cave.

Your feet became tired as blood continued to pour out of you..

After a few minutes your body threatened to give out.. you could see the trail now despite your blurred vision. It was closer now.

Black clouded the corners of your vision, you were only a few feet away.

You stumbled over something, and you fell to the ground. It would be so easy to just lie here.

You used your good arm to crawl towards the road. It hurt terribly. Your good arm became bloodied too as the forest floor cut into your skin.

The road was right there.

You had made it.

You let your body sprawl across the dirt trail.

The sky was a brilliant shade of blue. Stars sewed into the dark sky.

Your eyes slowly fell as the blood continued to pool around your battered body.

The unknown spread across your body.

You were allowed to rest now.

#tbor

[imagines-forthe-soul]

For your small imagines can I have Dabi, Twice, and Fatgum nsfw(as dirty as you'd like)/sfw headcannons for a female shy/quiet s/o who's black, has thick locs, introverted, nerdy, and studying to be doctor. lol aka shamless self insert please and thank you dear😉😚

You said both a small imagine and headcanons and it kind of confused me so I just went with headcanons, so I hope that’s okay!! Also, I can’t tell you how fun it was writing for a black reader. Most of the time when I write, I usually try to make the reader fit everyone or let you guys decide if she looks like you or an OC of yours, but it was really fun writing for a certain type or race of reader. I really want to do more things like this!!

_______________________________

Todoroki Touya (Dabi):

He likes your quiet and introverted nature, finding a sort of comfort in it. He doesn’t really like talking all that much himself, so having someone who is somewhat similar to that is good with him. He’s comfortable with you being silent most of the time and will only ever talk if he has something important to say like: “What should we get for lunch?” or something.

Makes fun of you endlessly for being so nerdy and studious. He likes to pick on you when you are doing your studies, stealing your textbook from you and waving it over your head, pushing your arm so you mess up your notes, or even slapping your books out of your hand. He acts like a typical high school bully but it’s all in good fun… at least for him.

Since you’re on the shier side, he likes to shamelessly flirt and fondle you whenever and wherever he wants. It doesn’t matter if you are at home or in front of your family or friends, Dabi is going to be saying some raunchy things to you or grope you without batting an eye. When he met your parents, his arm was around your shoulder with his hand resting on your tit, giving it a good squeeze as he just stared your father down and walked into the house with you in tow without waiting to be invited in. He’s disrespectful like that.

You’re going to get your hair played with and pulled on a lot. Like I said before, Touya is a complete bully and likes teasing you endlessly. When the mood strikes him, he is going to just plop a hand on your head, messing around with the different sized locs in your hair, rolling them between his fingers, braiding a few, and putting them against his lip and pretending its a mustache. You don’t really pay much mind to it at first since it starts off so goofy and playful, but eventually you’ll feel him tug on your hair really hard and hitting you with your own hair if you try to stop him. He’s a real cunt.

Bubaigawara Jin (Twice):

Like Dabi, JIn likes to tease you for being such a studious person, but it’s all playful instead of mocking. He’ll call you things like Einstein, Brainiac, Smartass, just to be funny but he won’t ever disturb you or purposely mess up your notes. Even though he’s a villain, he isn’t going to mess up your chances of becoming something as big as a doctor for his own gain (unlike a certain charred jerkface)

He’s in love with your skin and your hair. More often than not, he will be admiring the color of your skin and how it glows in the sun or how smooth it is. He hasn’t seen many people with your skin color let alone date one, so he is going to take as much time as he sees fit to admire your skin and give you compliments on it. As for your hair, he can’t keep his hands out of it. He plays with it each and every chance he gets. Though be careful because he does tend to rip out the knots without really asking if he should or not. He just sees them and goes to getting rid of it for you which usually ends up hurting you.

He doesn’t mind your quiet nature in the least. Honestly, there would be nothing Jin loves more than a quite and calm partner. He has lots of troubles both in his life and in his mind and would love (as well as need) someone who could just be there for him, to be his peace away from all the craziness he has to deal with both inside and away from the field of villainy. He enjoys being able to come home to see you quietly studying and then cuddling up to you and just staying silent as you read over your notes and press a soft kiss to his temple every now and again.

Toyomitsu Taishirou (Fatgum):

He is obsessed with your hair. There is nothing he loves more than playing with each one, giving them names, helping you pick out hairstyles, and taking care of your hair. He thinks it’s a great bonding experience and helps him appreciate you and your hair so much more. However, above all else, he loves helping you take them out when you plan on redoing them. Seeing your hair in its unkempt and wild state is something he loves because he knows you are usually nervous about letting him see it this way. He loves that you trust him with this part of yourself and that you’ve allowed him to help you.

Thinks that your studying to become a doctor is beyond cool. He knows that not everyone wants to be or has the quirk to be a hero, but he loves that you are still doing something to give back to the community by studying and working hard to become someone that can still save lives without being an actual hero by profession. He admires that a lot about you and tries to help you in every way he can.

Can I just say that this babe absolutely loves your skin color as well as your culture and background. In his younger years, he never got much of a chance to date outside his race, especially not one that is so similar yet so different from his, so this is a really fun and educational experience for him. Now, don’t get me wrong, he isn’t dating you just to see what it’s like to be with someone from a different race, he does love you, and a whole lot at that. He simply enjoys learning more about your races culture and history as the two of you go about your relationship. Being able to learn about your lover’s culture through them is a magical experience that he finds brings you both closer together.

NSFW:

Todoroki Touya (Dabi)

If there is one thing Dabi loves most about dating a black woman, it’ll be that nice ass of yours. His hand is going to rain down a whole lot of hurt on your poor behind because he can’t help but love how round and full it is and how good it feels to spank it.

He thanks whatever Gods for your hair because it makes it so easy to turn and toss you how he wants thanks to your hair. The long dreads make it so easy to grip and hold onto you or hold you down. Plus, if they are long enough, you can bet he is going to try and choke you with them because he is that rude and kinky during sex.

Your quietness is going to be thrown out the window when he gets his hands on you. Dabi is all about hearing his partner moan and scream for him and will take it as a challenge if you are quiet during sex. He will do any and everything he can to get a sound out of you, from licking your sweet cunt down until you are begging him not to stop to fucking you so hard that you will end up speaking in tongues by the time he is done with you.

Bubaigawara Jin (Twice):

He never expected sex to be different with someone outside of his race, but he was pleasantly surprised to find out that there are a few differences when having sex with you compared to Japanese women. An example being the way you moan and react to his touches. He loves how soft yet how raw your noises are, how you react to each movement he makes rather than only the pleasure he is or is supposed to be giving you. Your responses to his words and to his actions are so genuine and raw that it takes all his efforts not to cum too quickly when making love to you.

Is very fascinated with your breasts. It’s pretty common for some women of color to have larger areolas and honestly if you do, Jin will love it to bits. He loves to lick around them and marvel at them when you are on top of him. It drives him completely crazy seeing your beautiful breasts bounce as you ride him.

Loves seeing your hair sprawl out behind you when you both have sex. You look so beautiful with your hair strewn about the place, some thrown over your shoulder with the rest behind you, making you look so ethereal and perfect. Words of praise fall from his lips more than you can keep up with when he sees you like this.

Toyomitsu Taishirou (Fatgum):

His favorite position to make love to you in is doggy style. He loves seeing the arch in your back, making you look oh so submissive to him and only him. He loves to be able to run his hand down the arch of your back every so often, feeling the soft skin and smooth muscle there. He also loves the way your ass looks from this position and how he can hold your waist a lot tighter like this, controlling the pace you two go at.

However, what he loves more than doggy style is having you sit on his face. Nothing will make this man happier than having his head between your thighs, tongue shoved deep inside you pulsing cunt as you slowly rock against his face, his hands on your hips to help keep you steady. Big boi loves to eat and his favorite food just so happens to be the sweet fruit between your legs.

He adores hearing your sweet little moans when he makes love to you. They always sounds so angelic and soft and he wants nothing more than for you to keep making those sounds as he drives himself into you. He’ll bend down and rest his head against yours just to hear your sounds a little louder.

Wanna see some other shit I’ve written?

#bnha #bnha imagines #bnha dabi #bnha twice #bnha fatgum #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia scenarios

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Jess!

You have been accepted for the role of ANDROMEDA TONKS with the faceclaim of Natalie Portman! We really enjoyed your focus on the ambiguity of Andromeda’s beliefs and choices; how choosing Ted doesn’t mean she stopped loving her family, how things aren’t perfect now any more than they were wholly miserable before. We look forward to seeing you dig-into her conflicted feelings and lingering prejudices. We are so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Jess

AGE: 20

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m a full time student, but I usually have time to spend an hour or so writing a day, and I’m always reachable by mobile!

ANYTHING ELSE: I have a lot of experience with Tumblr RPs, but I haven’t been part of anything for about a year! I’m really excited to re-enter the fandom with a new character.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Andromeda Tonks

AGE: 29

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis-female, she/her, heterosexual

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: I’d like to use Natalie Portman as her FC- for me, Natalie always comes across so poised and graceful, which is a trait I really want my Andromeda to have.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

All middle children act out, the Blacks used to say to themselves. Andie’s stubbornness and fire, her petulance and ferociousness were absolutely natural for anyone who grew up aside an elder sister as prominent as Bellatrix, and a younger sister as pristine as Narcissa. Regardless of the occasional dinner table outbursts and the Muggle books hidden under her bed, her fierce love for her sisters convinced Cygnus and Druella they had nothing to worry about. Nobody would have chosen her as the rebel of the family. Sometimes, Andromeda can’t even believe it herself.

While her parents urged her to spend her Hogwarts years searching for a suitable match, Andromeda was almost always found in the library. Slytherin cunning manifested in a thirst for knowledge, a trait that serves her well in the Department of Mysteries. A built-in lie detector and a keen eye for bullshit got her through teenage drama and now, get her through pre-teen squabbles with her daughter. As she grew, she learned when to share her opinion (almost never) and when to keep her mouth shut and listen (most of the time). She prefers to get a good read on people before sharing any of herself with them.

Like every Black, she has her own tempestuous streak. Andromeda can be impatient and particular, liking things done a certain way and at a certain time. A childhood in a controlling family has left her with a need to control her household the same way Druella ruled hers- of course, unlike her mother, Andromeda works full-time and lacks the small army of house elves. Her mother’s influence also left her with a too-sharp tone and a habit of bossing others around. Passion comes easy, but steady, everyday love is harder. Adulthood and responsibility hit her like a brick. She’s a little too measured for spontaneity these days, too concerned about the future to be present in the now. Andromeda is at her best when she’s having fun- but it seems those moments are too few and far between now. Maybe that’s just part of growing up.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Cygnus and Druella never appeared to enjoy having children. To them, children weren’t something to be enjoyed. They were walking trophies, representations of the long and storied history of Black. Andromeda was hardly raised, more cultivated, like a rare orchid or crossbreed of roses. A Black is poised, she is lofty, she is obedient. A Black does not slide down staircases, or speak to the house elves, or make faces at her parents. In time, she became two women- stoic Andromeda, to her parents, and goofy Andie, to her sisters.

Who’s lucky enough to be born amongst their best friends? Andromeda never needed anybody but her sisters growing up- they were her anchors, her compass, her roots. Being a Black was important, as her parents beat into her, but being a sister to Bellatrix and Narcissa was her priority. As her built-in confidants, she confided in them about every impulse and doubt and fear. Until Ted Tonks.

Finally, something was just for her. She hadn’t anticipated how delicious it was to have a secret, how much of an adrenaline rush it was to sneak around. She felt seen for the first time, seen and loved and wanted, and by someone who was indisputably good and kind. Ted shone a light on the fear and confusion that had gradually begun to fill her heart, and in return Andromeda gave Ted her whimsy, her joy- all the parts that were disagreeable to her family. But she also hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to lie to her sisters. Or how difficult it would be to watch them walk away from her. The rejection of her parents hadn’t stung as much as she thought it might. Yes, there was shame, but perhaps more from an accidental pregnancy than from being disowned. The sting was from the upturn of Bella’s nose, the curl of Cissy’s lip. She would have died for them- and they wouldn’t even bend over for her. Becoming Ted’s Dromeda was easy. Shedding Cissy’s Andie was hard. She knows she made her choice, but some days it’s all she can do to keep the lump out of her throat when she looks at her life. It’s worth it, she knows that. She loves her husband and her daughter just as fiercely, if not more so, than she loved her sisters years ago, but that love for them still hasn’t faded. She’s grown to accept that it might never. But even a core as iron as Andromeda’s can fail sometimes, and she sometimes wishes she could have raised Nymphadora in the same palatial luxury she came from.

OCCUPATION:

It’s almost ironic- the woman who’s name is verboten in certain social circles is an Unspeakable. Andromeda loves her work- for the first time in her life, she feels as though she’s contributing to something important, helping people without rocking the boat. The Department of Mysteries is her sanctuary. It feels like nothing from her past followed her here, no petty gossip or snide looks. She’s truly thrown herself into the werewolf project, fascinated by every difference between herself and the subjects that look just like her for all but a few nights a year. She began this study to find a cure for lycanthropy, to make werewolves like everybody else, but the project’s evolved over time to focus on the unique talents and gifts of the werewolf and how they can be exploited. Her whole life has emphasized homogeny, but it might be time for her to start seeing the power of divergence.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

She’s given up her last name, her family, her inheritance. She will not give up her daughter’s safety. It’s not that she doesn’t believe in the cause, because yes, of course she believes Muggleborns have a right to be in this society. She just doesn’t see why she should put her life at risk for it. Of course, the occasional slip of information from her department hardly counts, it’s not as if she’s on the front lines. It could never even be traced back to her. And if she doesn’t tell Ted about it, it’s only because it’s unimportant, not because she’s afraid. Andromeda Tonks would never confess to being afraid.

SURVIVAL:

She flies under the radar as much as possible. Sometimes that means signing her name as A. Tonks in fear of someone putting puzzle pieces together, sometimes that means waiting for the next elevator when the faces inside don’t look friendly, and sometimes it means spending Friday night til Monday morning locked up in their house, afraid of something she can’t put a name to. She’s fortunate enough that her parents are content to only act like she’s dead, but her eldest sister may change that any day. There’s still a part of her that cares for her sister, but if Bellatrix even glanced in the direction of her family, Andromeda would rip her apart in an instant.

RELATIONSHIPS:

The problem with leaving your world behind for a man is that, suddenly, that man becomes your world. High on hormones and righteous fury, Andromeda told Ted over and over he would be all she needed. But she can’t help feeling as though she gave too much and he gave too little. With every slip of the tongue, each not-progressive-enough viewpoint, she wonders if he’ll ever look at her without disappointment in his eyes. If she’ll ever feel worthy of his love. She tries to give hers freely in return, but showing appreciation is hard for her, and recently their relationship has felt more like business partners than man and wife.

She’d love to fill that void with some friends, but frankly, she was too busy following her older sister around like a lost puppy at Hogwarts to make that many. She recognizes surnames in her new social circle from the old- Selwyn, Macmillan, Yaxley- but she doesn’t miss the way these people look at her (she thinks it’s the pity that’s the worst, worse than the disgust or the amusement). And so many others hear the implicit Black when she introduces herself and flee. She never forgets that she still has some family, but Sirius still looks at her with distanced eyes. It doesn’t make sense to Dromeda- in her mind, the two black marks of the family tree should look out for each other, but then again, blood has always taken up a disproportionate amount of Andromeda’s thoughts.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I think Andromeda really loves Ted, but there’s definitely a lot of room to explore in such a high-pressure relationship! She’s lost her family, given her all in raising a child, and is keeping a secret from her husband about helping the Order, all of which I think could be major stressors in their marriage. I’m really very flexible with ships, I just love to write through conflict like that!

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Andromeda grew up in the lap of luxury, with any privilege imaginable. Having all those taken away from her in a heartbeat (the money, the family cache, the status, the family, oh Merlin, the money), left her with more frustration than compassion. These are things she silently feels entitled to, and wishes she could have given to her daughter! Basic responsibilities were foreign to her a decade ago, but she’s been made painfully aware of what her privilege enabled her to do, and what she no longer has access to. It’s made her colder and more serious, and if she was confronted with any of the privilege she still has (being a white, cisgender, straight pureblood), she’d be highly defensive. I’d really love to explore how this silent resentment is building up inside Andromeda- it’s her own choices that led her here, but self-reflection was never her strength, and it’s just easier to pin this loss on Ted, her family, really anyone but herself.

Andromeda was essentially raised in a fundamentalist cult, and she’s only just begun to really confront those implicit biases. While she can say all the right things when prompted- Ted, of course I don’t think Muggleborns are genetically inferior, would I have married you if I did?- she’s not interested in exploring any deeper. To Andromeda, being a pureblood still means something, she just can’t elaborate on what something is without revealing the blood superiority still in her heart. She works with werewolves, but she still sees them as beasts to be feared. She’d be embarrassed if her daughter was born a Squib, and she’d never let her marry a Muggle. In Andromeda’s world, these aren’t viewpoints, but indisputable truths, and she reacts to any attempts to change these truths with a laugh and a wave of an ivory hand. No point in being naive- this is just the way the world is.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I LOVE exploring duality within characters, especially ones seen as “good” in canon. The focus on the gray in all the skeletons really drew me in, and I would really love to write the messier parts of Andromeda.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): It would be really exciting to get to write Andromeda when the threat of Death Eaters becomes more immediate, and she begins to recognize faces under the mask. Her love for her family is still very real, and I’d love to write out that internal conflict.

ANYTHING ELSE? Nothing!

#homenumaccepted

[mundane-pleasures-are-best]

Just Another Day

Happy 8/1, Master!Isa AU world. Concept by @saixbosom on Twitter, continued from IsaXig fic by @thoughquaking . NSFW. Murderclown Norted!Axel warning.

Ships:AkuXem, heavily implied XigXem and Akusai.

Summary: Axel finds that if he can't keep his old friend out of his head after their recent encounter, then filling the time with nothing is the next best thing. Even if nothing is a pit of ego and zealous perfection.

The flame nobody knocked once before swinging open the door to Xemnas's office, not feigning the fear the others had for him when he entered and making his way to the large desk at the center of the room. The heart-shaped moon hung over, its rays spilling through the window and illuminating Xemnas poised at his desk. He was writing a list of possible missions for Xigbar to consider upon, even if the Freeshooter simply agreed without much fuss. Axel slapped his report down on the desk, skipping Xigbar in the chain of command due to a lack of respect for the aging nobody. The Superior's eyes didn't leave the paper he was working on until he was done, then he lifted the charred report and glanced at it, never once looking at Axel.

"Disappointing."

Newly-turned yellow eyes narrowed, a hiss threatening to escape his mouth and flames tickling at his fingers. He calmed himself considering the nobody might mean the results themselves, not his own abilities-

"Are you trying?"

Axel met the darker orange eyes of Xemnas and glared, the smell of sulfur briefly wafted off of him, a smell most members feared due to his impulsive nature and clicking fingers. He spit out, "No, I was having a party."

Xemnas hummed, crushing the report in one hand and tossing it into the trash. "Number VIII I am starting to believe you are incapable of producing results, has your mind been distracted lately? Do you not know of our true goal?"

The redhead bit his lip, so Xemnas was aware of Isa's pursuit of him and his missions sliding down on the scale of his priorities. If Isa was on the world he was sent to, he finished the mission quickly, even sloppily, and then left. It wasn't effective for the Organization but it kept him from wasting time talking to something used and broken, “I’m aware, you want a big fluffy glowing heart in the sky yeah?” He waved his hand in a goofy gesture, arms drawn out towards the window in a mockery of Xemnas on the roof. 

“Cute.” The deep voice was curt, not feeding into the anger Axel was trying to provoke. He was like an overgrown child, not able to play with his favorite toy and lashing out at everyone around him instead, pathetic, emotions only bred weakness, and Axel was swimming in them. 

Axel’s eyes narrowed, his nose crinkling, “Is that a compliment?”

Xemnas went back to the paperwork on his desk, ignoring Axel’s presence completely as he hummed to himself, trying to resist a smirk as he heard the snap, and the paper started to curl and char under the sudden flames, turning into ash within seconds, “You’re still here?”

“You’re right,” Axel swiped his hand and knocked objects off of his desk.

“Oh, I often am.”

“I was distracted, I am cute, and I am bored.” He reached a hand across the desk, his lanky arm gripping a silver bang and yanking the other’s head forward and up to meet his burning eyes, “and I can see you are bored too.” 

The tan nobody did not shift, not faltering in his expression of blank interest, nothing made a person who craved attention like Axel more angry than ignoring them completely. It was a little fact he had learned from Xigbar’s daily observations. It was also the reason why Axel hated Vexen with every fiber of his being. The scientist simply thought the flame nobody was below him in rank and intelligence, to be fair, Vexen wasn’t wrong to Xemnas’s knowledge. Axel was easily provoked, manipulated, encouraged, and led. He was a fox in the hen-house, overwhelmed with choices and his mind only leading him to utter destruction.

He hadn’t named him Flurry of the Dancing Flames for no reason after all, Axel was a flurry of wanton destruction that would leave everything in his path ash, even his friends. 

“Am I now? How do I seem bored, Number VIII?” Xemnas slowly rose out of his chair, making Axel have to strain against the other’s height and bulk to maintain his grip on the dangling silver bangs. Axel let go. 

With a quick lunge the assassin was over the desk and tackling Xemnas to the chair, he didn’t have enough weight to stun the larger male, but he did have enough surprise on his side to make Xemnas land on his ass on the chair and blink, “My, what a grave you are digging.” He chuckled despite himself, watching Axel’s eyebrows knit in confusion, Xemnas rarely laughed, and this one sounded chilling. 

“You know what? I think I’m going to dig it a little deeper.” Axel placed his hand on the leather chair, burning away a strip of leather then cooling it, when Xemnas opened his mouth to ask what he was doing now he shoved it in there and tied it behind his head. He made short work of burning the chair to bind his arms as he felt Xemnas kicking his legs to avoid the metal curling around the rest of his appendages. The ginger grinned like a cat, pleased at his work as he leveled his eyes with Xemnas, waiting for the nobody to make a move to counter him. But he didn’t, Xemnas just stared back at him, waiting. Then he raised both brows at Axel with a clear look of ‘And that’s all you got?’ 

Challenged by the look the redhead tugged at the other bang, “I have to ask, but Superior are you a virgin? I mean, I think you might not want me to pop that cherry first.” He waited in anticipation for the fear, but the other appeared even more bored. What the actual fuck was wrong with this man?

The Superior maintained a blank look, calming his body as he tried to feign disinterest, it took a person very familiar with him to see past the charade. He cocked his head in a mocking gesture at the other, watching flames flick from his loose hand as he began to melt away the zipper of his Organization coat, what a waste. Xemnas wondered how long it would take to find another replacement, they didn’t grow on trees. 

A sharp tug on the fabric and the chains fell loose, again Xemnas was aggravated as he watched the metal beads scatter. This better be worth it, or he would destroy the other himself, even if he made a good vessel. 

Axel took a moment to admire the toned abs and chiseled chest as he burned away sections of fabric and ripped the rest, scorching the other’s skin in places and making Xemnas bite on the leather between his teeth, “Well well, so you do go outside your office and do physical work, and here I thought you sit on your ass all day. Surprise Surpriiise.” He purred the last word, repeating it in a taunting way that made Xemnas raise a brow. Honestly what did these idiots think he did all day? Yes he was in the castle, or a split shadow of him was to keep them on their toes, he had other duties to a higher power than himself. 

The flame nobody ran a warm hand up the other man’s chest, watching the rise and fall quicken as Xemnas panted, his fingers poised over the dusky nipple; with a hard and very warm poke he began to twist one, rolling a thumb over it until it hardened, then leaned over him completely to nip at the other. A muffled noise gave him what he wanted, unbeknownst to him it was also exactly what Xemnas wanted. In a very simple game of reverse psychology he found that acting displeased with any action Axel did would make him do it more, giving Xemnas the pleasure he wanted. He wondered if Axel was always a terrible lover, or if he was simply too hard to read for normal people. Something to ponder later....

Axel bit down and amber eyes rolled in pleasure, a happy noise escaping him as he took a foot, his toes curling, and used it to kick at him, trying to remove the thin male from his immediate proximity. The ginger put an end to that immediately by gripping him firmly between the legs, his hand tightening in a display of power and control. It took all of Xemnas’s willpower not to moan in delight. It was so pleasant when someone knew he liked rough play and he didn’t need to state it, well, Axel was using it a threat, but it was the same difference.  

The younger male was smirking more, as he loosened and dropped the other’s pants, sliding down the boxers and gripping his length firmly in one hand. Axel chuckled, “So you’re superior in one aspect, it doesn’t really matter.” He slid his hand down to the shaft and back up, toying with the foreskin as he began to pump the organ as it rose due to stimulation. “I never thought you’d be uncut though, seems you can be surprising.” Xemnas closed his eyes, feeling the other’s hand mercilessly squeeze at his testicles to gain his attention back to him, “Ah ah ah, pay attention Number I, are you too distracted to perform your duties?” He smiled, mockingly repeating Xemnas’s own words back at him. His eyes were back on Axel as he watched him drop down his pants and boxers, not bothering with his shirt. Rude and disrespectful. 

Axel followed the disapproving gaze and chuckled, “You think you’re worth me getting completely naked for?” He lifted a leg to show the pants and boxers around his ankles and boots still on, “Please, you know we’re not going further with this. Why the act?” He reached for the gag and pulled it down, “Do you want me to kiss you too? Declare my nothing-love for your nothing-ass?” He looked up at Kingdom Hearts and grinned, “I do hope she enjoys the show.” 

Xemnas was less bothered by the display than Axel would know, he didn’t think love would be involved in a fuck, simply some level of logic. Eventually positions would change, and someone would move, and Axel would trip over his own damn clothes during the fucking. That would be humorous, and maybe that story would top some of Luxord’s drunken tales. 

The flame nobody started to melt the chair anew, letting the base sink to the floor as he melted the frame, moving Xemnas’ hands and legs apart in a conventional position of submission, one Xemnas disliked for the lack of class involved in such a move. The material quickly cooled and held him in place, as Xemnas sighed, “Are you going to do something or taunt me? Spare me your trivial threats and insults. I highly doubt you have the ability to maintain my stamina, given your pathetic shape and weight.” He smirked to himself, glad Axel couldn’t see it as he heard anger drive the rational side of the other’s brain out as the primal side took over, nails raked along his hips and sides, Xemnas bit down on his lip. There were bites on his back, the lips leaving a singe along his flesh, his panting now uncontrollable. He felt the other’s cock against his ass, warm but not as hot as his lips and fingertips, sweat starting to layer his skin as his body shuddered in anticipation. 

Axel’s voice was at his ear, purring now, “ H̱̣̭̗͑̇̂̾m̰̃m̟̫͠͠m͔͂,̬̋̃͢,̮̝͋͘,̠̇ .” The tone had changed, it cracked in the middle of a sentence or word and sounded jagged, unnatural. Xemnas was fond of it now, Axel rarely hit his breaking point. He bit the pointed tan ear, tugging as he started to grind his length between the other’s cheeks, moaning as he did, his nails in the other’s hips,  “͚͇̀͒Ÿ̩̣́̈ö̜̲̗̺̊̒͘u̬͈͊̕ ̮̑w̼͚͗̅oư̳̲̖͆̀͐͟l̥̹͍͒̍̿ď̛̹̜͎͊̍͜n͎̗̰͆͌͠’͎̠̰͊͛͞t̳̔ ̠̓h̦̓a̠̩̩̅̅̑p͕̞̼̝̏̏̄͘ṗ̤e̺̜͓͒͊͋n̥̓ t̢̧͓̮̠͗́̚͠͡o̳̯͌̂ ̧̧͖͈̖̏̈́̈́̃̚h̫̤̳͖̓̒̅̕ä̱̱́̑v̼̗̓̉è͎͓͂ ̛̦͕̋̂͟l̰̭͎̒͒͠û̢̮̟͈͔̆́̿̕b̩̜̑͛e ̤̓ŵ̺o͕̻̿͛u̧̅ld̗͓̀̓̈́͟͝ͅ ̠͙̔͘yo̞̍̅͛͘̕��̮͖͈ṵ̧̑̀?̳͉̂͠”̜͍͖̗͂̔̄͐

The lanky male reached into the back of his own pants in a bunch against the floor and pulled out the liquid, “Guess we’ll just have to use m̸̙͔͎̞̝̤̀̾̍́͐͆̋̍i̴̧̧̗͉͙̯̣̫͔͗̃̃͛̈́͝ņ̷͈̱̰̗͚̫̝̟̽̅̍͆ḛ̴̖̫̯͍̿̈͛͠.” 

The Superior jumped a little at the cold liquid being applied with a warm finger, the sensation causing him to shiver as his hairs rose and a shiver ran up his spine, “How convenient. Almost as though you planned this.” 

The finger pushed inside and coated his insides, he tried not to squirm as he heard Axel chuckling in delight. 

There was a sudden uncomfortable sensation, as Axel pushed in without warning and Xemnas had to control his instinct to tense immediately, which would only result in pain for him and pleasure for the other. He relaxed his body, shifting what little he could with his hips and arching his back into the other nobody, hearing the pleased groan in response. When Axel began to pump faster he kept rocking his hips in opposite rhythm, feeling the annoyance building up from his subordinate as Axel grabbed his hair and pulled, using one arm to hold him down and his body weight to lean into him as he thrust harder and deeper, Xemnas trying to control himself from moaning with glee. Another yank on his hair and his eyes rolled, his fingers gripping the ground and jerking his hips back aggressively to receive the thrust. 

The redhead seemed to not expect that, pushing the older male’s face into the ground as he fucked him harder, steam rising from his back as burn marks appeared on Xemnas’s sides, another hard bite at his throat and he felt it, the intense burning of another sort as his climax blurred his vision and attention. Xemnas gave up the charade, placing his hands down flat and rocking back as hard as he could, challenging the other male as Axel decided to fully dick him down as flat as possible, ignoring his Superior’s throbbing erection and leaving it it unwanted in the stagnant air, his thrusts becoming maddening as he too felt the tightening in his gut and the impending end. One more hard thrust and Xemnas cried out, no names just a guttural moan, and Axel slammed against him, burying himself balls deep as he came, shivering in delight as he imagined another burned form below him, breaking the pale form and pulverizing his insides with fertile seed. 

Axel panted, Xemnas had made a mess on the ground and he was going soft, pulling out and looking at the sweaty form with a mild look of disgust mixed with pride. 

It was a fuck, nothing more. He stood, tripping over his tangled clothes and gripping the desk for balance, yanking his boxers and pants up, tugging his cloak on as he gave Xemnas a curt wave before disappearing into a portal. 

The Superior caught his breath when he heard the portal close, letting his knees sink as he used his thorns to bend and break the chair to free him. He reached for some of his tattered clothing and wiped himself off, looking at the burn wounds with a sigh. He began the tiring work of a Curaga spell and sat there waiting before he was restored. A mild limp, more than he expected but less than he had received from previous lovers. He stretched one leg then the next as he rose, yawning a bit as he summoned a dark corridor to his bedroom and warded off the office, having dusks clean up the mess. 

----

The dark corridor to his room closed and Xemnas moved under the covers of the bedspread, feeling the crisp sheets against his sweat-covered body and shuddering. He heard a snap, and two feet landing beside the bed with a predictable soft tap. The Superior flipped over the covers as he watched one boot then another get tugged off before the cloak was left on the ground next to the bed.

"Now look at you having fun, I thought we weren't allowed to play with the other vessels?"

The Freeshooter slipped under the covers in his boxers, stretching in the king-size bed without touching the other man, their familiarity unseen in the quiet room. Xemnas looked over, watching in an amused way as Xigbar unfastened his ponytail and shook his hair loose with his hand.

"That was never an explicit rule, now was it?" The taller male started to sink into the pillows and yawned. His nose crinkled when the sniper shoved two fingers under his nose and the distinct smell of arousal filled his nostrils. Xemnas looked the other male in the eye and sighed, "Wash your hands II, you know basic manners, don't you?"

Xigbar wiggled the fingers once more before laughing, rolling out of the bed and going to the bathroom to wash his hands. He returned with the dramatic flourish of the accompanied bathroom door whipping open and doing a bow, "Aren't you proud of me Boss?" He waved his hand and smirked, "Little Master was quite the vocal one, if you catch my-"

"So you managed to 'get' the Master to our side? I do not see him. And you wouldn't be here if the arrangement had been mutual, now would you?" The amber eyes twinkled in amusement, the implication that Xigbar had been pleasuring the blue-haired keyblade master and not the other way around. The Freeshooter sneered at him, looking at the other’s still healing form with a condescending look.

"And you?"

Xemnas blinked slowly, the way a cat does when it's pleased, "I got what I wanted, I never try to play with my food too much or it grows stale. If you continue this little game of yours with him, we might not have the future vessel that was promised. Do not be dependent on the whims of a lonely man desperately clinging to the fantasy of a friend and lover long past."

As long-winded as usual Xigbar snorted, "Thanks Mom." He placed his hands on scarred hips and looked at Xemnas for a moment. The Superior always seemed to radiate during the afterglow, maybe due to its rare occurrence and unbridled pleasure that joined it. He felt something, jealousy? No. Their relationship, if one could call it that, was wide open. It was the instinctual urge to claim and mark over the ginger's lingering presence on the other. This was twice now Axel had been the focus of attention. He was a little disappointed Xemnas hadn't shared, but he was greedy, and Xigbar had found that out firsthand.

"Is he close to being ours?"

The older male scratched his neck and stretched his back, "No, not unless we let Flamesilocks dangle in front of him again." Their disgustingly needy dynamic let a bad taste in his mouth, thankfully he had washed out his mouth in the bathroom. He tried to forget the name moaned that was not his, his eye flicked back to Xemnas watching him, his amusement heightening when he smelled the weakness permeating from his second.

"I see. Didn't go as you had hoped, now did it?"

He waved his hands dismissively, "Whatever." He crawled back under the covers and leaned on the other's muscled arm, his toes seeking out the warmth of the other's, chuckling again when he heard Xemnas make a displeased noise at the cold digits touching his own. Xemnas wrapped the arm around him, shifting as he burrowed his head under the sniper's chin, no one but Xigbar aware or having experienced this side of him. The need for affection saved only for the other, but usually only after a heated session before in the other's office.

"Now now Kitten, you didn't think I had replaced you huh?" He raked his fingers through thick silver hair, almost envious of how soft it was despite everything.

"I cannot be replaced, so no, I did not think a needy virgin could compare." Xigbar smirked, the other's confidence was infectious and somewhat flattering, if only for the fact he had sole access to the nobody over everyone else. He waved away a few sniper nobodies gathered in the corners, noting the sorcerer nobodies’s lack of movement without a direct order from their leader, it was funny to him how Xemnas kept those worshiping things so close to him. Only things he trusted ended up being around him while he slept. He watched the other's chest rise slowly and fall as he drifted off, working an arm loose of the other's weight to hook around the wide chest.

The Freeshooter looked out at the glowing moon, contemplating why exactly Xemnas was stupid enough to let him be that close. Or maybe that was it, the empty vessel next to him acknowledging his rank amongst them and lacking the true ability to fear the unknown thought process of his partner and second. Perhaps, although he knew this thought might be pushing even the largest of assumptions about Xemnas's intelligence, but perhaps Xemnas was aware of everything and simply ignored it, feigning stupidity to convince even himself of his own worth in the grand scheme.

#Master Isa AU #Master Isa #Norted!Axel #XemAku #Xemxig

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Robin’s Reckoning (Part 2)

“There’s roaches in here! Roaches!”

Episode: 33 Robin: Yes Writer: Randy Rogel Director: Dick Sebast Animator: Dong Yang Airdate: February 14, 1993 Grade: C

You just can’t do this to me, episode, you can’t do this to me. Give me a great episode like part 1, and then take that, and throw it. Not, like, out the window or anything, but just a couple feet. Enough to damage it a little. Robin’s Reckoning went from an absolute classic, to just okay, all things considered. This story and this show have so much more potential than that, and I partially blame some episodes like this on the massively long library of Batman TAS season one. The crew must have been stretched to their absolute limit, and if less episodes were required by Fox, then some of the lesser ideas likely would have been thrown out. And also there’d be more time to refine episodes like Robin’s Reckoning.

I think this episode faces two main problems. The first one being the animation. The stuff at the very end during the climax was okay, when Robin snatched up Zucco in his fists and dragged him across the dock while on a motorcycle. 

Other than that, I would have assumed that this was Akom’s work. Like, their lesser-tier crew. It was pretty shitty going from Spectrum to this, and Char and I both noticed the immediate down-grade. The recap of part 1 at the beginning makes it worse because it’s showing us footage of it as if to say, “Remember this? Well, here’s what Dong Yang crafted for this one…” 

The studio usually does on-par work, though, and the episode list for this season was long. I forgive them. One bad-looking one out of the bunch isn’t the end of the world, even though we rarely facer problems like this today. I’m not sure which scene was rendered worse, though. The one where Dick Grayson is hunting down Zucco as a child, or the one where Zucco is freaking out about Batman being in the damn ceiling. Each’s most compelling argument or being the worst shot is Dick Grayson falling into the river, and Tony Zucco’s awful face. I caught on that he’s older now, and all of the stress of avoiding Batman for so long has aged him further. Yeah, that’s not how you draw that. He kinda reminds me of a melting plastic-figurine. 

When Dick falls into the river, it looks sooo bad (even the story-boarding seems lousy), but we get a nice-looking shot of Batman’s old costume, which was hard to spot before. I really like the design, minus the gloves. I think Bruce Time liked the design too…

The episode’s second problem was that the emotional impact of the first half was not present. Yeah, we get a nice scene of Bruce and Dick at the beginning when they are fencing (I hope that’s the correct vocabulary), but then it’s kinda just Dick on his own, dressed unrecognizably, talking to people we don’t know, and walking around the city in silence. The moment where Batman showed Robin the Batcave could count, but it seemed to go by so quickly without much of a response from Dick. Shockingly, though, I think that Dick Grayson rescued a prostitute at one point. Char and I both realized that immediately. So I hope we’re on the mark, because if she’s not a prostitute I’m going to feel really stupid. Fox censors so many things, but not that? Huh. Interesting algorithm you guys got there. Anyway, even as the episode progresses and we see Robin and Batman together, it’s not any better except for Batman’s final speech. “It wasn’t that, Robin. It wasn’t that at all. Zucco’s taken so much. Caused you so much pain. I couldn’t stand the thought that he might take you too.” Isn’t that absolutely beautiful? It’s enough to get you teary-eyed, honestly. This whole time we totally believe that Batman is just trying to parent an adult-aged Robin, but no. He was afraid for his adopted son. And that’s what Robin is. Even if they both may not act like it. The other emotional bits went by way too fast. Robin went from zero to one hundred way too quickly. So when he starts leering and sneering at Zucco, it’s not believable. “Okay, Loren Lester, act super angsty and evil! Ready?” And then he gave that performance. “So was that bad enough to be worth fixing? We are running behind. I think we should just use it.” And just as quickly as Robin’s voice changes, he comes back down that fast. Robin is furious. They’ve found the guy who murdered his parents. And Batman won’t even let Robin at him. He finally has the guy, hanging him over a dock, where at least a handicap is waiting, if not a full-on death. Then all of a sudden, “Batman, I… I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” Getting to this point eventually would have been good. I just needed another minute or two in length to make it work in my head. Robin’s temper and possible slight-resentment to Batman are basically brought up for the first time in this episode, by the way. And as a lot of us know, this will be a plot-point that will grow the more we watch. I’ve gotta say, after watching Christmas With the Joker, I bet a lot of people didn’t expect Robin to have this side to him. Did you? Oh. You say you did? Okay. Is it fun being a liar?

That’s Dick. 

Recently I talked about Robin’s first appearance in the Batman Adventures comic book, and I like the side of Robin that it and Robin’s Reckoning present. Robin is so human in this series. For the most part, he’s not as exaggerated as Batman. He has a dark-side and a bit of a temper, but he also has moments where he lives as a fun-lovin', ordinary, college-student. We’ve seen him goofy, we’ve seen him afraid, we’ve seen him serious, and we’ve seen him furious. And yet, we don’t really know what he does for fun. What he watches on TV (aside from It’s a Wonderful Life), what his secret-obsession is. We instead know about how his emotions function. We learn about what kinds of decisions he might make, or how he may react. It’s knowing a character beyond the surface-level, and that’s how you know your character is strong. Robin may have been a challenge to do right for the crew, but the DCAU-originals decided to work with what they had based on tradition, and mix in some of their own influence only to further improve. Loren Lester’s voice is also iconic as Dick. Although all of this makes me wonder why some people think that Teen Titans is in the DCAU. They’re both Dick Grayson, but they are certainly not the same universe’s Dick Grayson. It’s clear as day to me. While I haven’t seen Teen Titans that much, Loren Lester’s Robin is iconic to me. As iconic as Kevin Conroy is to Batman. Well, almost. 

A couple more episodes, and we will be closing the split timeline! A bit ago I got behind on episodes, so I “split the timeline” and covered current episodes along with episodes I was behind on. But after, these next few, all of the posts will be coming out complete in-order again. Hallelujah.

Char’s grade: C Next time: The Laughing Fish

Full episode list here!

#Batman #dcau #dc animated universe #batman tas #batman the animated series #timmverse #bruce timm #robin's reckoning #robin #tony zucco #dick grayson #btas

[the-walking-memelords]

Allegiances: Chapter 14

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 15

Series is rated M

Word Count: 4464

Mitch has a plan to stop Lilly for good, and Ruby has a plan to raise morale.

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

As soon as the pair re-entered the safety of the school walls they split off from each other, Louis headed to find Mitch somewhere in the admin building, leaving Clementine alone to her own devices.

Clementine took the moment she had to herself to survey the damage. The smell of smoke and ash still swirled through the air as piles of charred debris littered the ground. Bullet holes from the previous night’s war dug holes into the toppled picnic tables.

Clem wondered what they had done with the bodies. She couldn’t bring herself to enter that basement again to see if he was still there. Dead or alive she relished in never having to see his face again. Yonatan’s crumpled corpse would have no doubt been moved from the hallway by now, dumped for walker food somewhere outside the walls. Then, of course, there was…

Marlon.

The blood had long dried on the ground but even without touching it she felt as if it would never leave her skin. The stain of her plan going to hell. Her eyes wandered from the crimson pool to the mounds of dirt aligning the graveyard.

One grave stuck out from the others. Grass had grown over the previous graves yet the dirt of one laid loose and fresh. The quiet whines of Marlon’s loyal companion broke Clementine’s heart as Rosie rested her body on the mound. Clem reached her hand out to the dog, letting her give it a sniff before she gave her a scratch behind her ear.

“Thank you for saving me.” She said to the dog as she ran her fingers over her warm rust-coloured fur.

Rosie gave her hand a lick as if to say “You’re welcome.” before leaving Clem alone with the grave.

A ring of golden flowers hung around the simple cross, the carefully twisted stems no doubt Ruby’s handiwork.

This grave shouldn’t be needed.

Clementine slowly sank to her knees as the name carved in wood stared back at her.

“I’m sorry, Marlon.” Sorry didn't even begin to describe how she felt about everything that had happened.

“I should have stopped this. You shouldn’t have died.”

Nothing but an eerie silence filled the air as she sat in silence among the graves. She didn’t know if he could hear her, or if he was even anywhere, but she hoped that somehow, he could.

“This isn’t going to happen again. I’m going to bring everyone home.” AJ included.

“Your death won't be for nothing. I promise.”

---

Clementine’s feet carried her a little too anxiously to her dorm room. Turning the corner suddenly, she nearly collided Ruby as the short red-head peeked over the pile of pillows in her arms.

“Oh! Sorry I didn’t uh… didn't see you there.” She nervously laughed in her southern accent.

“What are those for?” Clementine pointed out the tightly clutched pillows, trying to remain casual.

“I was… thinking we could have a fun little hootenanny before we go rescue our friends. To raise spirits, y’know?” Ruby truly had a heart of gold. Even with her face still puffy from mourning her lost friend, she was still here going out of her way to make sure no one gave up hope.

“Tenn’s helping me set up the music room I was just grabbin’ these so we ain’t all just sittin’ on the floor.”

“That sound’s like a nice idea.” A moment to distract them from tomorrow.

“You can come if you want.” Ruby invited, giving Clem a warm smile.

“You don't have to if you don’t want to, but y’know.”

“...I’ll think about it.”

---

Clementine leaned against the door as she closed herself off inside her room.

A party, huh?

The emptiness of her dorm felt more inviting. Perhaps it was no longer her place to sit among them so casually. Curling up with her dusty pillow alone might save everyone the awkwardness of her acting like a wallflower, picking at the vines that poured in from the broken window, or spending her time just letting Rosie lay on her lap.

I doubt they’d really want me there.

Clem ran her hands through her hair as she flopped back on her bed, the old springs digging into her spine as she bounced slightly.

I just need to focus on tomorrow.

Tomorrow. The day the fight continued. They get their friends back and then for the kids of Ericson’s, the fight ends. Clementine couldn’t bring herself to include them in her own personal rescue attempt. Even if she succeeds, when all is said and done, when Lilly has gone and AJ is by her side, what would become of her? Would the others really be able to trust her again? Or would they decide it best for her to take her little boy and leave?

Clementine squeezed her eyes shut tight, too frustrated to think of the tomorrows yet to come. The days that don’t exist yet. The days she couldn’t touch. The only thing she really had? This moment.

Who better to remind her than the boy who came knocking at her door?

Three calm knocks caught the girl’s attention as she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Come in.” She said, barely loud enough for him to hear her.

Louis quickly shut the door behind him when he entered. Clementine looked at the freckled boy expectantly as she stood.

“There’s uh… something I wanted to talk to you about but I wanted to wait until we got back.” The boy’s shoulders slouched as he leaned against the bookcase, arms folded and face deep in thought.

“You saved me last night. You shot that raider I was fighting… but you saw them dragging Violet away, too. She needed your help more than I did, but you still picked me. Why?”

Louis’ words became weaker as he spoke, his voice growing uncertain with himself. By the time the final word escaped his lips, it was barely above a whisper and the way he slouched made it look as if he was trying to cave in on himself.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have picked me. Hell, I don’t know anyone who would have picked me.” This time his words flew out in a frenzy, eyes glued to the floorboards.

Haven’t I made it obvious?

“You were in trouble, too. I saw it and I couldn’t risk Lilly getting her hands on you”

God only knows what she would have done to him.

“You’re too important to me, Louis.” Their eyes finally met.

“I can’t lose you.”

Louis left his spot against the bookcase, pacing over to the boarded up window. He looked longingly through the cracks at the outside world.

“I know I’m always teasing her, trying to get her to do that one eye roll she does -you know the one- the one where it’s like ‘You’re such a dumbass’ she has to do a full-bodied eye roll.” Louis wasn’t one to be afraid to say how he felt about the people he cared about.

“I do it because when I do manage to make her laugh… It’s worth it.”

“We’re going to bring her home, Louis.” Clementine knew Vi was smart enough to keep her head down.

“Aasim, Omar, Brody. We’ll bring them all home.”

“I hope so.” The fear in his voice was poorly hidden.

“I’m going to make this right, Louis.” She promised.

“We sneak on, get the others out, and then I go after AJ myself.”

“Wait, you’re going back?” Louis spun on his heel, shock mixed with horror swirled in his eyes.

“Clem they’ll kill you!”

“I don’t have a choice. I couldn’t live with myself if I just let him go.” Her nails bit into her arms.

So many people died to get us this far.

I can’t give up on him now, not while I’m so close.

“He’s my little boy. I’ve gone through hell to keep him alive, I’m not giving up now.”

My little Goofball.

“Well, you’re not doing it by yourself.” Louis took a step towards her, lightly grabbing her shoulders.

“I’ll help you save him. We can bring him home together.”

“I can’t ask you to do that for me.” This final battle was hers. It didn’t feel right for her to ask any more of her friends.

“If they caught you and didn’t just shoot you, they’d do things that would make you wish they would.”

“Which is exactly why I can’t let you go alone.” He refused to drop it.

“It’s exactly why you have to.” Clementine knew what to expect, how to be careful. Louis had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“I told you, I can’t lose you.”

“Well, I can’t lose you either.” Louis slowly closed the gap between them, his breath just brushing her lips as if debating if he should or not. Clementine could only stand frozen, waiting for his decision as she closed her eyes. Louis gave in, letting his lips crash into hers. Clementine’s fingers gripped his shoulders, bringing him as close as possible as she melted at his touch. The two only broke away when their breath ran out. Clem sank into the soft fur of his coat as he pulled her close. A soft smile refused to leave her face as she felt his lips press against her forehead.

“Glad you didn’t secretly hate me.” She chuckled, a warm feeling in both her heart and face.

“Thought about it, couldn’t do it.” He rested his chin on the top of her head.

“It felt way too damn wrong.”

“You’re still not coming with me.”

“Guess we’ll have to talk about it later then.”

Clementine let the topic rest for now, but she knew she couldn’t let him risk himself for this. She stepped back from him. She couldn’t help but match the smile on his goofy face.

Dork.

“So, shall we head out?” Louis smirked as he held his hand out to her.

“Ruby could probably use a hand putting the party together.”

Clementine bit her lip nervously, still feeling uncertain about her attendance.

“Are you sure everyone would want me there?” Her chest tightened with anxiety.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure Mitch is still pissed at me.”

“Mitch is always pissed about something.” He joked, waving his hand dramatically.

“If Mitch has a problem he’s just gonna have to deal with it. You’re one of us. Nothing’s changed.”

She couldn’t begin to tell him how much that meant to her. All Clementine wanted was a chance to fix what she had broken, but it seems she had underestimated how much they cared about her.

One of them

Part of their family.

Clementine slipped her hand into Louis’, intertwining their fingers.

“Let’s go then.”

---

Ruby and Tennessee busied themselves planning decorations for their little party idea. The redhead held her hands up, framing an area she wanted for a banner. The two of them greeted Clementine with warm smiles.

They’re really not angry.

“Need a hand?” Clem smiled back.

“Sure, these damn candles have been givin’ me trouble forever” Ruby furrowed her brows.

“I wanted to light this place up all pretty but I can’t decide on a colour.”

Clem examined the three dyed mason jars in front of her, something about the purple standing out to her from the red and green ones.

“Purple was my dad’s favourite colour, so how about this one.” She carefully held the glass jar in her hands, the calming purple brought back memories of the small garden her dad kept in the front yard. The glistening jar held the same hue as the tiny petals of the flowers she helped him plant.

“I heard purple’s the colour of royalty.” Ruby enthralled.

“And that describes us exactly not at all.” Louis piped up with a snide joke. He leaned an arm against a dust-covered gramophone as he flipped through the record selection.

“This old thing used to belong to the headmaster. Dug it out so I’m not stuck on piano duty all night.”

“Got any classical in that pile?”

“A woman after my own heart.”

Hell yeah.

“Hey, Clem” A small voice called from behind her. Tennessee greeted her kindly with a paint can hanging from his left hand.

“Wanna help me make the banner?”

“A banner?” Tenn nodded to her as he held up part of a long sheet of fabric.

“I was gonna paint something motivational on it.” He spread the rough sheet flat across the floor as Clementine kneeled down next to him.

She wasn’t one for arts and crafts, at least, not in recent years, but the feeling of the brush in her hand as she swirled the paint across the banner was freeing in a way.

We’re bringing them home.

It was a simple message, but a hopeful one.

“I think that’s all I need for now.” Ruby confirmed seeming pleased with the plan.

“By the way, Mitch and Willy wanted to talk to you up in the office. Said they had an idea to stop them raiders from coming back.”

---

The door to Marlon’s old office hung open upon her arrival. She stood hesitantly in the doorway, lightly knocking on the wooden frame as she peered inside.

“Come in.” Mitch barely looked up from his spot on the floor across from Willy, the two of them fiddling with a suspicious looking plastic jug. The floor was scattered with open books turned to various pages.

Knowing Mitch and Willy that thing’s another bomb.

“Ruby said you wanted to see me?” She stepped into the room but kept her distance from the probable explosive.

“We were tryna figure out how to stop those fuckers from coming back after we rescue the others, and Willy here came up with an idea that just might work.” Mitch smiled proudly as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“We’re gonna blow up the boat!” Willy cheered.

“We stick this baby into the boiler and BOOM! No more raiders.”

I fucking knew it.

“I’m noticing an explosive trend going on at this school.” Clem smirked with her hands on her hips.

“You bet your ass there is.” Funny how Mitch’s hobby seemed to match his anarchist personality. A trait that certainly rubbed off on Wily.

“Bombs are epic, and this little dude is a goddamn prodigy.”

“Aw c’mon, I’m not little.” Willy’s objection only earned him a playful noogie from the older boy.

“You’re shorter than me, kid, that makes you little.”

Clementine giggled at the exchange. A lighthearted moment in the midst of all this careful planning.

“Hey Willy, how ‘bout you go see if Ruby needs any help.” The younger boy caught the older one’s hint, giving him a nod before exiting the office.

Clementine felt her nervousness grow as Mitch returned to his serious demeanour. He gazed at the floor as he crossed his arms, letting out a sigh.

“I’m sorry.” His face softened as he looked up at her.

“For y’know… knocking you out, and tying you up. Everything felt so damn hectic I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I lied to you all, and your friend died because of it.” Clementine wished she had had the strength to tell them sooner, no matter how much the lies rotted in her stomach, the truth remained frozen in her throat. Lilly exposing her was something she kicked herself for allowing to happen.

“You had every reason not to trust me.”

“That doesn’t make it feel any less shitty. You risked a lot to save us, I get that. You had your reasons for doing what you did. Hell, If I had to pick between a group of strangers and Willy...” He scratched the back of his neck as he paced, gazing through the shattered balcony doors.

“I’m mostly worried about Brody. Like, if you just mention the possibility of someone coming to attack us she has a panic attack. I doubt she’s holding up okay.”

“I’m still going after AJ once we get the others back.” She declared.

“I won’t involve any of you, but once I get him back… Can… can we both stay here at the school?” Her confidence drained as soon as she began to vocalize her question.

“What the hell kind of question is that? Of course you can.” Mitch chuckled.

“I’ll even take him on as another student.”

“You are not teaching my kid to make bombs.”

Mitch shrugged his shoulders before kneeling to pick up the mess of books.

The sound of music drifting through the halls caught their attention, signifying the party had started.

“Go on, I’ll catch up.” Mitch waved her away as he continued stacking books into his arms. Clementine gave him one last thank you before following the music to rejoin the others. She hadn’t even arrived to Ruby’s party yet her spirits we’re already feeling lifted.

---

The elegant tune of the classical record she’d chosen blared from the gramophone, decorating the air with a graceful melody.

She caught Louis spacing out next to his prized piano, eyes closed, nodding his head along with the tune. His lips parted in a lively grin as his dreads swung with his movements. He seemed at peace. Naturally, Clementine decided to interrupt him. She managed to move closer unnoticed to the point where she now stood only a foot away from him. She raised an eyebrow, before giving him a light tap on the tip of his nose. The startled boy jumped at the sudden touch, his eyes widening to meet her mischievous grin.

“The party just started and you’re already half asleep.” Clem smirked.

“Please, I was just resting my eyes.” He gazed around at their friends, smiles adorning the face of every kid. The soft light of the candles reflected in his eyes as it bathed the entire room a brilliant purple, mingling with the moonlight spilling inside.

Louis slipped his hand in hers as they wandered to around the room, their bodies slightly swaying along to the music as they walked. She glanced back over her shoulder at the “potato” carved into the piano. It wasn’t exactly small. Clementine didn’t care if the others noticed it. It was probably pretty obvious to the others at this point about how she and Louis felt about each other.

The two said nothing as they moved with each other, clasped hands swinging between them. Louis twisted to stand in front of her, slipping a hand around her waist. The moment felt so whimsical, like something from a fairytale her mother would read her before bed. The prince and the princess dancing together as one during a grand ball. Though royalty they were not, no fancy clothes or pristine ballrooms, this moment was one she’d remember as magical for a long time.

“Alright everyone, gather ‘round.” Ruby set a bunch of steaming mugs on the floor as the others assembled themselves sitting in a circle amongst the pillows.

“I got a game for us.”

Clementine slowly sniffed the dark contents of her cup. The sweet aroma brought a warm feeling in her chest.

Tea.

“What kind of game?” The first small sip scalded Clem’s tongue but she didn't mind as she enjoyed having a hot drink.

“A guessing game. Since we’re all goin’ on this crazy rescue mission tomorrow, you should know who we really are.” Ruby slapped the top of a box stuffed with folders. “These are our official Ericson’s psych evaluations and probationary reports! Basically, all the bad shit we did to get sent here.”

“And all the bad shit we kept doing that got us stuck here.” Louis added.

“I’ll make sure it’s someone you’ve actually met.” Ruby opened up the first file and cleared her throat.

“‘While otherwise a remarkable student, Blank continues to be plagued with fits of anger, uncontrollable cursing, and repeated altercations with the senior faculty…’”

Well, that really narrows it down.

“Come on that's like, all of you.” Clementine could name three off the top of her head that would fit that bill.

“Hey, I am the most mild-mannered troubled youth ever.” Louis nudged her playfully.

“That’s Ruby’s file!” Willy blurted out in a fit of laughter.

“Holy shit, seriously?” Ruby always seemed like the mother of the group. The sweet one who looked after everyone.

“Our sweet Ruby here was... Kinda a nightmare when she first showed up.” Louis laughed nervously.

“She used to chase the adults all around the school. They were terrified of her.” Mitch added

“It was badass.”

“That was a looong time ago.” the redhead laughed.

Holy shit.

Don’t underestimate the nice ones I guess.

She sat patiently as Ruby continued to flip through the box searching for another file. Her face slowly fell as she flipped on and on, looking for someone who was still with them.

“I… I hadn’t realized how many we’d lost…” Her fingers slowed as she let out a sad sigh.

“Remember that Justin guy?” Willy asked.

“And Therissa. And Jasper…” Tennessee continued naming their lost friends.

“That one girl with the coloured braces. And Joey. Maddie. Lamar…”

“Erin.” Louis’ sombre voice seemed to struggle to find volume.

“She had the braces.”

“Alex. Dewey. Trey. Stephanie.” Willy’s list seemed never-ending as the names continued.

“Holy crap, how many of us died?”

“Thirty-two.” Ruby’s number caused the kids to grow quiet as the feeling of loss hung over them.

All the friend’s they’ve lost.

So many kids, abandoned for no reason.

Ruby had scrolled all the way to the end of the alphabetical list when she carefully pulled out a file of someone gone, but hopefully not lost.

“Whose is it?” Clementine’s tone grew quiet.

“Violet’s.”

Vi…

“Should we read it?” Willy asked with hesitancy.

“I could tell you my story instead. What got me sent here, I mean.” Louis interrupted quickly, turning to Clem.

“Only if you want.”

Why Louis was sent away.

The look on his face told her it wasn’t a great story. Most likely his deepest, darkest secret. Clementine tried to guess in her mind what he could have done to be sent so far away from home. He wasn’t violent. He wasn’t mean. He was nice and sweet. What could he have done to deserve any of this?

“I was hoping you’d tell me one day.” She gave him an encouraging nod as he began to speak.

“So, my family was stupid rich. Parents gave me everything I wanted when I wanted it. Except for one thing: singing lessons. God, I begged my dad. Told him I wanted to be a real musician. But all he said was ‘You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can't be both.’ I know now that he was just trying to teach me some dumb "dad" lesson... but I hated him for that. So I decided I teach him a lesson.” Louis bit hard on his lip as he paused.

“I thought, ‘I'll break up my parents' marriage. That'd hurt real bad, right?’ So I broke into my dad's credit card accounts and made all these purchases in his name. Did this for over a year. This is how rich we were: he never noticed that he was spending a fortune on a mistress that I'd made up for him. But I made sure my mom did. Sent her all the receipts for the hotel rooms, the jewelry... all of it. They had a fight all night long. He denied it. She wouldn't have it. I sat in a corner and cried to help it feel more real. When their divorce was final... I told them the truth. I said: ‘You get to be happy or you get to be rich. You don't get to be both.’”

Louis’ eyes became glassy as he choked out those final words. Clementine sat almost frozen in shock.

He did that to his parents?

Louis always seemed afraid of hurting the people close to him. Always making sure they smiled and laughed, even at his own expense. Clementine now knew why.

“You know, those two would've been happily married forever. But then I had to go be a vindictive fuckhead.” His face contorted in anger, but only at himself.

“I came here... the week after”

“I can tell you regret it.” She said sympathetically.

“They told us we were bad people, Clem.” His voice broke.

“They weren’t wrong.”

“That person you used to be, that’s not you anymore, Lou.” Clementine knew he was just a kid who made a mistake, no matter how bad that mistake may have been.

“You’ve always been nothing but kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. You’re a good person, and I believe that whole-heartedly.”

The smallest of smiles appeared on his lips as if to say “Thank you”

“I’m sorry. This was supposed to be fun.” Ruby packed away the box.

“I guess I’m not really a ‘game’ person.”

“You said it yourself, Clem should know who she’s heading into battle with.” Louis picked at a loose string in the rips of his jeans.

“Hey, Louis...” Tennessee spoke up from behind the pillow he was hugging.

“Do you remember when Minnie used to sing us ‘Don't Be Afraid’ when we all used to get scared?”

“Of course I do. I helped her compose it.”

“Could you maybe… play it for us? If Violet was here, she could sing the words. But…”  The scarred boy only grew more nervous.

“Yeah.” He said quickly.

“Yeah, I’d love to, Tenn.” His voice lacked enthusiasm but he moved towards his piano anyways.

Clementine saw him stare at their hearted initials for a moment before turning to the ivory keys. He ran his fingers lightly across the smooth buttons as he adjusted his position.

“This is for you, Minnie.”

The way he played was just as elegant as ever. Clem swayed from side to side as the notes filled the room A soft, gentle tune. A song written by a girl who once fought for these people, but now only worked against them. Surely it wasn’t too late for Minerva to come home. The Delta’s conditioning was brutal, but if Clementine could break free, so could Minnie. Right?

Soon the song faded out, the noise of the crickets outside filling the silence. Louis got up from his piano and rejoined the group, and picking up his mug.

“I think that deserves a toast.” He said, raising his cup into the air.

“To our last night alive!”

That’s encouraging.

“How about…” Clementine raised her own mug.

“To bringing everyone home!”

“Yeah… I like that one better.”

“To bringing everyone home!” The group all raised their forgotten cups, clinking them together as they drank its cooled contents.

To bringing everyone home.

#allegiances #fanfic #clouis #louistine #louisentine #my writing

[blessuswithblogs]

On the anti-imperialist roots of the Super Robot genre

Tadao Nagahama is probably not a name you're familiar with. I won't reproach you for it, it's been a while, I had to look it up myself to help me remember. However, Nagahama is an extremely important person for my current subject of discussion: the anti-imperialist, anti-war roots of the Super Robot genre. Shinzo Abe, the current prime minister of Japan, probably most widely known in the west for wearing a Mario hat to promote the next olympic games, has been in his own quiet (and not so quiet) way contributing to the rise of hard right nationalism, historical revisionism, fascism, and a whole bunch of other nasty isms that have found traction in today's sociopolitical climate. Recently, I saw in passing a tweet about how the ever-popular, ever-mystifying Kancolle had an episode where Japan ended up winning the battle of Midway. Propaganda in media is nothing new, but that was quite egregious, even by my desensitized standards. It got me thinking a little bit about my own niche anime interests and how the common perception of the mecha genre is probably one either of random Gurren Lagann bullshit or simplistic, thinly veiled pro-Japan ideology packaged in a kid friendly, larger than life veneer. In a lot of ways, early Super Robots shared more in common with classical American Super Heroes than actual Japanese Super Heroes like Kamen Rider, which evolved into their own tokusatsu genre quite distinct from either paradigm.

I cannot rightly dispute these preconceptions as wrong, but I do want to at least bring up that some early, influential franchises rejected this narrative. One of the first of these, of course, is Mobile Suit Gundam. While now we have the distinction between Super Robot (robots that are like larger than life super heroes) and Real Robot (robots that are presented in a realistic context as weapons of war using standardized technology employed by military and paramilitary forces to project force) for tedious nerds to bicker over indefinitely, in the days of the original Gundam, that distinction did not exist. Indeed, to play for ratings, Yoshiyuki Tomino, famed creator of the Gundam franchise, had to make many concessions to his sponsors and make Amuro Ray's Gundam more like its more popular contemporaries, with goofy mid-season combination upgrades and some extremely anachronistic weaponry like a beam trident and a huge, MS sized ball and chain. On the back of his later success, Zeta Gundam and the seemingly never ending number of side-stories like War in the Pocket and Stardust Memory, Tomino would actually go on to revise the original series in a definitive movie compilation that cut out a great deal of filler and blatantly unrealistic (or at least immersion breaking) elements. This version is extremely good by the way. Give it a watch if you're interested in the genre's history or if you just like old sci-fi.

The reason I bring this up is sort of my roundabout way of arguing that while the Gundam of today is made of entirely different stock than Super Robots, the original article deserves a space in this discussion. The discussion being, of course, the distinctly anti-nationalist bent of a lot of early Super Robot shows. In all of its many incarnations, good, bad, and inbetween, Gundam is a story about war really sucking and how tragic it is that we fail to understand one another because it's easier to just kill one another instead. Now, of course, a lot of fans are either too thick to understand this subtext (and text-text) or simply willfully disregard it because they like cool robots that shoot lasers. Basically think of Dan Ryckert's relationship with Metal Gear. While certainly not all Gundam series have been good, they have always been faithful to these ideas, which is laudable. In broad strokes, anyway. SEED Destiny was pretty weird in spots.

Mobile Suit Gundam 079, which chronicled the One Year War, was not at all shy about this. The One Year War began as a movement for Spacenoid (a slightly ridiculous term for a person living in a space colony or on the moon) independence from the hopelessly corrupt Earth Federation. Naturally, the Federation did not take kindly to this and moved to suppress the movement, but found itself overmatched by the Principality of Zeon's advanced Mobile Suit weapons. To keep an even footing in the war, the Federation resorted to using nuclear weapons and other atrocities on largely civillian colonies to buy time as they developed their own brand of Mobile Suit. In retaliation, Zeon counterattacked with an even more devastating new weapon: dropping space colonies on earth. All told, the One Year War was not a good time to be alive, and nearly half of the Earth Sphere's total population died in one way or another. While all this was happening, the original founder of the independence movement died under suspect circumstances and power was seized by the Zabi family, who were Really Bad News. The Federation, meanwhile, turned to conscripting child soldiers in a desperate bid to keep pace.

This all culminated in the creation of the Gundam by Tem Ray, Amuro's emotionally absent father. Due to Circumstances, Amuro finds himself in the cockpit and becomes the most important soldier in the war overnight because the Gundam is several orders of magnitude more powerful than anything Zeon can field. The character of Amuro is explored most fully in Char's Counterattack, when he is a fucked up adult instead of a fucked up kid, but from the outset, Amuro is defined by forces completely out of his control and his fatalistic acceptance of his own lack of agency. Despite his nigh legendary piloting skills, Newtype powers of precognition and telepathy, and status as hero of the One Year War, Amuro might actually be the most passive motherfucker in the god damned galaxy. This puts him immediately at odds not only militarily but interpersonally with the dreadfully overambitious if mostly well-intentioned Char Aznable, his lifelong rival. Their entire history of conflict is based entirely upon the simple irony that they both want the same thing but, despite being Newtypes, lack the ability to understand this. The One Year War's violence and brutality defined them and their relationship to another, because of a petty twist of fate that put Amuro in the Gundam's pilot seat instead of some other sap.

Gundam uses many more overt methods of conveying that the One Year War is not glamorous or cool or just. Characters die regularly on both sides of the conflict, oftentimes for no real reason other than "this is war, sucker." Tomino developed quite a reputation for this style of storytelling, earning the moniker Kill-'em-all Tomino, especially in some of his non-Gundam works like Aura Battler Dunbine and Space Runaway Ideon. The entire continent of Australia got rendered uninhabitable by colony drops. The White Base, the federation battleship housing the Gundam, is crewed and staffed almost entirely by people who have yet to reach 20 years of age and they've got a pack of prepubescent toddlers running around on the ship because they've got nowhere else to go. I personally find the interpersonal conflicts acting as microcosm for ideology and war to be the most interesting, and most intrinsically Gundam thing about the franchise, but you don't have to go looking between the lines to find evidence of the show's ardent anti-war, anti-nationalist proclivities. The intensely nationalistic Zeon is surreptitiously usurped by a power-mad dictator without anyone even catching on after Ghiren Zabi uses a giant ass space laser to kill both his father and an influential Earth Federation general while they're trying to broker a peace deal. The death of that general, in turn, allows the worst elements of the Federation government to run amok and eventually create the deeply fascist Titans in Zeta Gundam, who make it a point of policy to oppress spacenoids as brutally as possible.

So Gundam, at least, has profound roots in the denunciation of military power as a metric of moral superiority. That's not really news to most people. Oddly enough, it's the most obsessive of fans that tend to miss the memo because they're presumably too busy making sure Mobile Suit measurements are exactly as documented and all character motivations are completely rational and logical, like them. Let's dig a little deeper for some more surprising examples of this kind of ideology in unlikely places. It should be noted, of course, that I am not heralding Gundam as some sort of bastion of progressive thought. Tomino's sexual politics are located roughly in the Stone Age until about 2000's Turn A Gundam, where they progress to about on par with inudstrial revolution social mores. Progress, I suppose. This is a problem with a distressing amount of media, especially in the 70s and 80s, but I'm trying to look at the bright side of things. At least it's not Cross Ange, right?

Moving on, when we look at the genesis of Super Robots as a genre of animation, we will invariably look to Go Nagai. Though a number of shows about large robot men fighting evil like Tetsujin 28 and the live action Giant Robo came first, the seminal Mazinger Z had the popularity and iconic staying power to define everything that came after. Though I could write a great deal about Go Nagai and his Dynamic Robots, they don't really pertain to my particular topic of discussion today because Go Nagai was about as progressive as a sack of bricks. His work was largely apolitical, at least in the sense that he did not intentionally make his stories about contemporary political issues, so at very least Kouji Kabuto never waxed nostalgic about the time Japan was allied with Nazi Germany. In fact, one of the show's major villains, Count Brocken, is a reanimated SS officer cyborg who carries his head around with him because of a decapitation in a previous life. Generally speaking, not a good or sympathetic guy, despite his protests to the contrary. Go Nagai focused on themes of brotherhood and being outcast by society for just being too damn hotblooded and having sideburns that were just too damn thick, though these mostly manifested in his manga. The TV adaptations of Mazinger, Getter Robo, and Grendizer were largely sanitized and inoffensive.

I mentioned Tadao Nagahama at the beginning of my piece, and it is now with him we come to a very important point in the genre's history. Nagahama was the director of three particular Super Robot shows: Combattler V, Voltes V (here the V is treated as the roman numeral, so it's really Voltes 5), and Toushou Daimos (roughly, Brave Leader Daimos). Colloquially, these three are known as the Nagahama Romantic Trilogy, and they are denoted not only by the iconic designs of the robots themselves, towering, blocky things made out of many constituent parts in a fairly sensical way (as opposed to the famously Unpossible Getter Robo), but also by the injection of genuine interpersonal and ideological drama into the proceedings. They were also super popular in other areas of the world, much like Go Nagai's Dynamic Robots. Voltes V in particular was popular in Southeast Asia. Combattler V was instrumental in cementing the notion of The Honorable Rival in the genre, a character aligned with evil that still conducted themselves with decorum. While you would find few such characters in the ranks of Dr. Hell's armies or King Vega's invasion force, in the Romantic Trilogy, they were critical to the show's success. Combattler V was not especially revolutionary, but it laid the groundwork for Voltes V, which in many ways was.

Voltes V is the tale of the Boazan Empire, an interstellar civilization with an expansionist streak and a highly stratified caste system. Unlike previous villainous organizations, the Boazans are noteworthy for being three dimensional and not painted in shades of black and white. The Boazans invade earth for the purposes of annexing it to their growing empire, with the crown prince Hainel leading the charge. Their battle beasts are too much for earth's military (and the militaries of many other planets), but the super electromagnetic robot Voltes V, piloted by a team of five headed by Kenichi, appears to beat them back. Things become interesting when we learn about Kenichi and his two brother's lineage. Their father, the brilliant scientist behind Voltes V's construction, is actually a Boazan expatriate. Not just any expatriate, but former royalty, no less. Boazan's strict caste system is based solely upon whether or not a citizen has horns. If they do, they're nobility. If they don't, well, uh, sucks to be them. Such a system, already untenable, is exacerbated by the fact that the vast majority of Boazans don't have horns. It's a rare genetic mutation. The whole Boazan war machine is powered by a gigantic underclass of slaves-in-everything-but-name. Kenichi's father believed that this was morally reprehensible and that reform was necessary. Unfortunately, this was not a popular opinion among the nobility, and he was disgraced, de-horned, and ousted for his ties to rebellion movements.

Complicating matters even further, he had a son while on Boazan, the aforementioned Prince Hainel. After relocating to Earth to escape persecution and devise some way of bringing change to the empire, Kenichi's father settled down and had a family. Now bereft of horn, he was largely indistinguishable from the average earthling. Parallel evolution is a concept emrbaced heartily by old sci-fi in both Western and Japanese media, probably because people thought alien babes were hot. Fair, honestly. At any rate, Kenichi engages in mortal combat with his half-brother's forces on a regular basis, which creates interpersonal tension mostly lacking in earlier shows. Sometimes Duke Freed got snippy at Kouji for being all love and peace at the Vegans but that was usually resolved at the end of the episode. Hainel himself gradually changes, too, starting out as arrogant, dismissive, and openly ashamed of his connection to a disgraced expatriate and his sons but gaining more depth as time goes on. The end of the show takes place on Boazan itself, with Voltes V spearheading a hornless revolution while Hainel turns on the emperor, vengeful and disgusted by his cowardice. Or maybe it was a movie. Look it's been a long time and I'm going from memory give me a break.

For a kid's TV show at the time, this was honestly pretty wild. Voltes V was not shy about displaying its moral core: people are not defined by the circumstances of their birth, and systems of government based upon the oppression of an underclass deserve only to be destroyed. Voltes V is not as morally complex as Gundam, but it is leaps and bounds ahead of many of its Super Robot contemporaries. Nagahama believed in a sort of fusion of genuine human drama and moral complexity with the more simplistic, bombastic style of storytelling common to his predecessors, and it resonated with viewers all over the globe. At the time of airing, a number of Southeast Asian countries were under the thumb of repressive dictatorships, and the final episodes had to be heavily censored and edited so as not to promote seditious ideas. That, more than anything to me, is the mark of something that is genuinely anti-nationalist in nature. Who would know better than fascist dictators themselves?

The final entry in the Romantic Trilogy, Toushou Daimos, continued the trend of creating morally and politically complex circumstances in which the karate robot made of transforming trucks must punch bad guys. The aliens of the day are the Barmians. The Barmians, however, buck convention and come to earth in genuine peace. Their story is a tragic one - their planet was destroyed in a catastrophe, and the survivors were evacuated on the aptly named mobile space city Small Barm. Due to severe space and resource constraints, a billion Barmians have to remain in cryogenic sleep while a skeleton crew of nobles and military officials keep Small Barm afloat as they search for a place to live. Naturally, they find earth to be a charming place as any to settle down (as it must have seemed in the early 80s before the environment started collapsing) and initiate negotiations with the governments of earth to try and accommodate their people. Expert martial artist and principle protagonist Ryuzaki Kazuya is the son of a brilliant scientist who created the robot Daimos and the special Daimolight energy that makes it so scary strong. Said scientist is part of the diplomatic delegation sent from earth to Small Barm (in some universes alongside the illustrious Rilina Peacecraft, but that is a story for another time entirely) and is a major proponent of the Barmian's request for peaceful integration into earthling society.

Regrettably, this all goes awry when the Barmian hardliner military faction assassinates the King of Barm during the meeting with poison and blames the earthling delegation on it, engineering their own perfect casus beli for a war of domination against Earth. Fascists are remarkably bad at sharing and getting along with others, as has been demonstrated. Prince Richter, the honorable if somewhat dim and hot tempered son of the King wasn't too hot on the assimilation idea because of his prideful belief that the superiority of Barm's culture and technology should allow them to dictate more favorable terms, but was ultimately loyal to his father above all else and acquiesced to the idea. When his father is assassinated, of course, he flies into a rage and declares earth to be the enemy of Barm and kills Kazuya's father. So there's a lot of bad blood between the two of them. Kazuya and Daimos stand up against Barm's battle beasts and prevents the invasion from progressing. He eventually meets and falls in love with princess Erika, Richter's sister. Where Richter is brash and hasty, Erika is intelligent and patient, and much more compassionate. These qualities allow her to see that the circumstances of the King's death, and any motivation the Earthling's might have had to assassinate him, were extremely suspect. They part ways, but Erika eventually joins a resistance faction on Small Barm against the military hardliners who had assumed power. Richter continues to dance to their tune, too consumed by misplaced anger and vengeance to see what is really going on. Erika's relationship with Kazuya only makes him more unreasonably mad.

Of course, Earth has its own hardliners, and in his battles, Kazuya not only has to contend with Barm's battle beasts, but General Miwa, an odious Earth-supremacist convinced that all Barmians, regardless of their disposition, must be eliminated immediately and without mercy. If we want to talk about more alternate universe scenarios, for reference, Miwa was a fucked up enough dude to cast his lot in with the Blue Cosmos organization after his Barmian extermination ambitions never panned out. He really fucking sucks. Ultimately, Kazuya and Erika manage to uncover the plot to assassinate the King, defeat the military holdouts, and bring the peace their fathers wanted about. Where Voltes V presented a scenario of a civilization run by ultra-nationalists needing to be restructured from the ground up, Daimos offers the inverse: a peaceful, tolerant civilization in a time of crisis gets hijacked by a few selfish, warmongering fascists and nearly destroys itself. Coming to understand and love one another, even when from different planets entirely, is an even bigger theme in Daimos than Voltes V, and is in many ways a more personal story. A romance, if you will, for a romantic trilogy.

Nagahama's Romantic Robots were well loved around the globe and left a lasting impact on their genre, encouraging those who came after to experiment with more complex themes and characters, even in the larger than life universe of Super Robots. While not all (or even very many) of these successors live up to this high minded ideal, it's an important part of the history of Japanese animation, proving that drama and politics were not just for Gundam or more "serious" shows. We can see the legacy of Nagahama in a number of more contemporary titles. Evangelion is so much more about interpersonal conflict than actual robots that the final episode of the TV series didn't even have any fighting in it (albeit mostly due to budget constraints). People hated it, of course, and Hideki Anno went on to make End of Evangelion to either appease or piss off further the angry fans, but it happened nonetheless. Gun X Sword represents an evolution of the genre into that of a pseudo-western, where heroes and villains are separated by the thinnest of ideological margins despite the fantastical robots and setting. Gurren Lagann briefly flirts with political complexity before promptly imploding on itself (maybe this one is a bad example). Even Shin Mazinger, an unabashed love letter to older Go Nagai properties, managed to create a surprisingly affecting and compelling character (dare I say, Protagonist?) in its reimagining of Baron Ashura.

The Mecha Genre used to be, and still kind of is, one of my big guilty passions in life. This essay is more personal in nature than a lot of my others, because from time to time I feel like I have to justify to myself why I like this garbage even when it's weird regressive shit. I guess the compromise I have found is that, in certain circumstances, it can be weird progressive shit, too.

#super robots #super robot wars #gundam #media analysis #tadao nagahama

[thehourglassisempty-blog]

Quiet me.

((omg this took so long to think of cuz we’ve done Aqua Ven angst BUT THEN INSPIRATION also this is longer than a drabble. whooops.))

Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.] 

It was high time that Xehanort learned that even broken glass could cut you.

It was an offhand comment. One in retrospect he should have let pass unsaid. He was smarter than that to understand that words held weight to them in certain circumstances, smarter to realize that he wasn’t completely folded into the company of half-pint heroes quite yet and hadn’t exactly earned the privilege.

Ven had made an admirable attempt to best Riku- the co-trainer of these Keyblade Cadets with Merlin and Yen Sid -in a sparring match, but found his speed and rusty skill leaving him face first in the dirt in the wake of even a neophyte Master’s competence.

After Riku gave his critique and encouragement, a short laugh from Ven later had Aqua walking over to take care of him. Like a mother, in how she had instinct to protect. Like a child, in how she never strayed from Ventus’s side.

“Oh? Is this the great and terrible Master Aqua I have come to fear? You’ve softened to nigh uselessness. Mothering a boy that should be weaning off of such things.” 

His smile was meant to be good-natured, his words meant to be the subtle insulting antics of close friends. The smile lingered on his features while everyone else fell silent and stared before softening to a slight smirk that didn’t match his troubled brow. 

Sora was gaping, his shock and fear perhaps most evident and springing from his sleeve to his open mouth. Kairi had covered her mouth, brows slanted to aid the daggers in her eyes. Donald has covered his face and Goofy was thoughtfully gnawing on his hat with wide eyes. Riku’s gaze- normally dubious when directed at Xehanort -tightened. Lea suddenly burst out laughing, clutching his stomach, which was somewhat of a relief until Xeha realized Lea was laughing at him, not his joke. It was a laugh of absolute pity that wished his poor soul some necessary luck.

Ven and Aqua, meanwhile, had been frozen in a tableau from the moment the words started. The Master crouched in front of her seated charge. Ventus, with those big, round, dopey eyes, had been looking betwixt Xehanort and Aqua several times, fearful, offended.

“H-he didn’t mean-” The boy started, but fell silent. He held up his hand, “Aqua-”

She stood. Like clockwork, smoothly oiled by years of careful discipline as evident by how her joints unrolled with uncanny grace. She waved her hand aside, and in blinding light her blade was drawn.

“Fight me then. Let me show you the Master Aqua you should fear, monster.”

The words were instantly, petrifyingly cold.

Everyone’s gaze trained on Xehanort, who stood there for a moment. He pouted, and in an act of disgruntlement said, “It was a joke, do none of you have any sort of humor?”

“I dunno, Xeha,” Riku replied, “Maybe you and Aqua should take a turn fighting each other, see how you two compare.” The mean-spirited turn didn’t go unnoticed, and he got dagger glares from his two friends. To which he threw up his hands, “Okay, okay, I’ll mediate and make sure things don’t go too far.” He stepped up to help Ven to his feet. The two exchanged words, then a few with Aqua.

“I don’t see the point.” Xeha crossed his arms and turned away, “I was only trying to show camaraderie-”

“That’s... not really how, though.” Sora finally picked his jaw up, “Dude, and you say you think before ya talk.” He then called over to Riku, “And come on, does this really merit a spar?”

Aqua was the one who replied, turning around and brandishing her Keyblade, “We should test each other. It’s in our best interest to get a taste of the enemy, right?”

“Xeha’s our friend now!” Sora sighed, tired of repeating the argument and jutting his neck out further and further into the guillotine, “We make him say sorry and let it be!”

“Sorry.” Xeha agreed, “it was careless-”

“You’re not careless.” Aqua’s eyes narrowed, icicles intent to stab.

Thick silence crawled back in.

Kairi pressed a curl of hair to her mouth before saying, “She’s right.”

Lea only waved his hand, “Bye, Xeha.”

“You’re all enjoying this too much.” Sora sighed.

“I dunno if Master Yen Sid would like this...” Goofy muttered.

“I dunno if King Mickey would, either.” Donald added.

Aqua and Xehanort’s gazes never strayed, meeting each other like mirror twins in cold resolve. Xeha stepped forward and summoned his blades. Riku briefly stepped in to hold his hand between them, “Look, no actual murdering, okay?”

Ven rushed up to Aqua, scared to touch her like this even if they were friends, “Aqua, he’s not worth it!”

Sora shook his head, “You guys can just talk this out, you know! Xeha wanted to make a joke, Aqua’s taking it a little too personally, there we can all go back and-”

“3,” Riku started.

“Guys, come on-”

“2,”

“Riku! you stop that-”

“1.” Riku finished rather apathetically, lifting his hand and backing away.

And instead of instantly clashing blades the two continued standing. Staring. Not even strafing to find the perfect chink in their armor. Just standing and staring as Yen Sid’s new art installation in his courtyard.

“Bor-ing.” Lea yawned, and walked away. Kairi and Ven huddled with worry. Sora was about to ask Donald and Goofy for back up, but snapped his words back when he realized the duo had gone to get people in larger authority than Riku and Aqua.

“I can prove to you my heart is far from weak.” Aqua hissed.

“Far from weak, yes.” Xeha said. “Because you’re more than merely weak. You’re nothing compared to so long ago-”

And with Aqua lashing first, Xeha felt he could be confident in saying he didn’t start it. He could also be confident in getting something out of this by saying her first strike was going right for his face.

There was a cry of alarm that echoed through their little audience as Xehanort and Aqua enacted what was more than a silly spar. It wasn’t a duel, either. It became a macabre dance, her grace and his composure coming together with their skill to gouge the earth beneath their feet and narrowly miss mortal wounds. Riku tried to step in, only to be held back by Kairi and Sora to avoid the path of Aqua’s brutal Thundaja.

“Cut it out!” Sora yelled, “That’s enough!”

Xeha and Aqua came to a standstill only held by the timid tension of Keyblade against ethereal blade, faces inches from each other and hissing like steam summoned by the sweat on their brow.

“How’s this for weak?” Aqua growled. Her voice cracked, a glimpse of what lay beneath.

“Unimpressive.” Xeha answered before jumping away.

To which Aqua replied with a Firaga Burst that left the doors of the tower charred black.

While Xeha tried to find his footing after having to dodge such a thing, he was left on the defensive. No attempt to match her strikes, only attempts to block her strikes heavy with her rage.

At least until Riku and Ven managed to grab Aqua while Sora and Kairi dragged Xeha back. It was hard to tell in the heat of battle, but now that it all had come to a close, what had been taken for sweat on Aqua’s cheeks was tears.

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF WEAKNESS?!” She suddenly screamed. While she writhed, Riku and Ven tried to soothe the normally calm master. “WHAT DO YOU KNOW, YOU COWARD!” Xeha shoved Sora and Kairi’s hands off, watching as Aqua tried to resume her vendetta against him. “What do you know when all I’ve seen you do is run before things get too bad? You tried to kill me and guess what?!” Riku and Ven were supporting her now, their eyes downcast and hold soft, “I’m still here, Xehanort! And you’re still here no matter how many times I try to-!” She cut herself off with her own disgusted noise.

Ventus tugged her away from Riku, deciding that she wasn’t murderous anymore and he could handle it, but not without a cold glare. Aqua tried to shove him away, but Ven only wrapped his arm around her shoulders and placed his hand on her arm, “Aqua, that’s enough.” Not harsh. A gentle murmur.

Xeha’s face had become the same unreadable state he’d known for too long. Vacant and detached from whatever he came to witness. He ignored Sora’s scathing “I hope you’re happy” somewhere off to his side. He rolled his shoulder, noticing how sore it was and suddenly realizing the burnt smell under his nostrils was his own clothing.

“It was unimpressive, Master Aqua.” He said, walking forward with a blithe sort of apathy. She raised her head snarling, Ven the only thing from keeping her restrained until Xeha made a small bow and finished, “Impressive is not what I would call your abilities. Perhaps I have every right to be scared of you.”

Aqua’s fury dropped, turning into a knotted mess of confused features.

Their gazes met not with hatred and tension, but some sort of bizarre understanding before Xehanort turned around and hopped up the steps and back into the tower without another word.

When Yen Sid and King Mickey strode through the very same door to glean what order they could from their warriors tearing each other at the seams, they were met with a courtyard stupefied into silence.

#;written in the stars #;the star of fate #;light is brightest in the dark #((this got so lengthy omg???)) #thespellweaver

[dotheflip-blog]

Sweet Moments

Y/N wakes up to Tom making pancakes after everyone crashes at the party. A sizzling skillet can make for some sweet moments.

Tom Holland x Reader

(Be gentle, please! I’ve literally never written an imagine before)

1800+ words

You crinkle your nose as a familiar scent crawls into your nasal cavity. Groggily, you lift your head and slowly open your eyes to a living room covered in sleeping bodies and beer cans. You can barely recall the events that took place at the Holland’s annual house party. Every year, it’s bigger than the years before it. The living room alone looks to cover the entire neighborhood. You laugh to yourself, imagining the fun you must’ve had when a distant sizzling noise grabs your attention. You twist your head and notice the kitchen light just barely peaking through the almost shut door. Curious as to why someone would be awake at 4 AM steals your attention as you make your way towards the light.

You peak your head through the door to see that of Tom Holland flipping a pancake without a care in the world. His chestnut curls hang over the pan as his face holds pure concentration for making the perfect pancake. The kitchen door lets out a slight creek and your cover is blown.

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone was awake!” he exclaims, shooting a smile that leads his eyes to wrinkle.

A pain comparable to being shot aches just behind your forehead. Your hand instinctively moves to cover it, showing your obvious discomfort.

“Was some night, huh?” he snickers while reaching to grab a teapot off the counter, “Here, have the best hangover tea ever created. Trust me, I’ve tried them all.” 

You manage a smile as you take a seat at the edge of the island counter-top. Tom pours your cup as you observe his messy set up consisting of flour going everywhere except the mixing bowl and batter smeared across the granite.

“What are you doing up this early?” You mumble while taking your sip.

“Jet-lag,” he shrugs, “My body can’t seem to get used to all these different time-zones.”

You nod, recalling all the months Tom isn’t home. The two of you have been next door neighbors since you were six. Spending every day outside together quickly turned into seeing Tom every few months with his growing career. You couldn’t help but miss having him around.

“A busy man lives a busy life,” you shrug playfully.

A smile creeps through the corners of his mouth as his eyes soften onto yours, “Yeah, but I can’t help missing home.”

You feel your face flush as you try to cover it with the tea mug. His almond irises are just as captivating now as they were out on the swings all those years ago.

“A-Anyways,” you attempt to switch subjects, “why pancakes?”

“Because of you, believe it or not.”

You choke on the tea in which he lets out a laugh lighter than a cloud. “Me? Why me?”

“You don’t remember? How could you!” His eyebrow furrows like a sad puppy.

You give him a hard look before remembering the summer of you two playing chef in the mud as kids. When it was Tom’s turn to make you a pretend creation, all he would serve were mudpies which he called “pancakes”. They never truly looked anything like pancakes but you played along and pretended to scarf every last one down because his mudpie pancakes were always five stars.

“Your famous mudpies!” You let out a laugh as he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve told you a thousand times, Y/N! They were pancakes!” 

“Well I think that one is definitely a mudpie now,” you nod towards the one Tom has been ignoring since you walked into the kitchen.

Tom’s face turns pale as he remembers what he was even doing in the first place. He scrambles to flip the pancake to an exposed layer of char. Tom groans as you snicker at his failure. 

“Even with your new celebrity life, you’re still the same Tom.”

“No, those acting classes definitely taught me how to perfect pancakes. If they didn’t I don’t know what I was paying them for. I’ll be writing a strongly worded letter- I promise you that,” he jokes as he tosses the blackened pancake in the trash and pours a new one into the skillet.

You watch patiently as his concentration returns. He gets a good hold of the skillet and flips the cake twice successfully. His eyebrows raise as if he’s just as impressed with himself as you are. Tom looks to you for approval like that of a little kid. 

“Maybe your acting classes did teach you something after all.” 

Tom finishes the pancake and slides it on a plate in front of you. “There, try it.” 

“Without any syrup?”

“How are you going to know if I’ve perfected genius if you smother it in syrup?” 

You grin at his clever answer before diving into his fluffy creation. It wasn’t the greatest you’d ever had but that goofy look he had waiting for your reaction was practically begging you to be head over heels. You stand up straight in the same way you did when you played the food critic as a child.

“Zees,” you tap into your horrid french accent like that of Ratatouille, “Zees is incredible! Five stars!”

He looks to the invisible crowd and immerses himself in pride as he bows, “It’s been an honor serving you, Madame.”

“Oui, but can you do zees a second time? Zat is zee question.” 

He chuckles as he already motions to the pancake batter, “You bet your ass I can do it as many times as you like.”

Before you knew it, Tom had made five perfectly round pancakes stacked on-top of each other. You pretend to judge their height, touching the center to measure the amount of fluff. 

“Sir Tom of Southwest London,” you swivel off your stool and reach for the Reddi-Whip inside the fridge, “I reward you with zees, my country’s most prized possession, the whip of reddi”

Tom holds out both hands as you move to give him the can. Just before it reaches his finger tips, you remove the cap and bend the nozzle toward his face. The puffs of cream cover his face as his mouth and eyes dart open in shock. You burst out laughing at the sight. Tom quickly wipes the cream off his eyes and snatches the bottle from you. You instantly back away and run to the other side of the island counter-top.

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me, Y/N!” He playfully threatens.

“ Sacré bleu! You can not attack your critic!” 

“Watch me!” He bends the nozzle across the counter in your direction. You easily dodge. He then rips off pieces of one of the uneaten pancakes and tosses it in your direction, landing directly into your hair. Tom takes this moment of distraction and dashes around the corner of the island. You let out a shriek as you run away.

Tom’s laugh as he chases you in circles is so heartwarming to hear. Even though he hasn’t been around, you made sure to always watch his interviews. Every one of them held fake smiles and forced laughter. You knew that wasn’t Tom. This was Tom. This twenty-one year old child chasing you with a can of Reddi-Whip. This boy who stole your heart making mudpies and always waiting for your approval. This-

“Ah!” You hear a loud thump and realize Tom’s body isn’t in sight anymore. “Ouch, that hurt a lot.” Tom groaned in pain as you rushed to the other side of the island to see Tom laying on the tile. You fall to your knees to get a better look

“Are you okay?! Did you break anyth-”

Before you could make out another word, whipped cream covered your sight. Tom’s cackles alone could’ve been cloaked in evil. 

“Told you you weren’t getting away from me this time!” 

You wipe the cream away to see Tom’s face red from laughing and his eyes doing the crinkling thing you always loved when he looked at you. Your stomach turns to butterflies as your heart melts. He has you right where he wants you every moment you two are together. His invisible tether keeps your love for him from venturing away. 

“That’s your specialty, isn’t it?” You smile softly, “Bringing me back to you.” 

Tom’s face travels from laughing to surprised, and then to serious. Your eyes follow Tom’s movements as he shuffles onto his knees to face you head-on. Before you can question what he’s up to this time, his lips crash into yours. His hands cuff on your whipped cream covered cheeks as your mind rushes blank. Your body tells you to kiss back and you obey. His mouth tastes like the sugary cream, which oddly enough, is how you always imagined it to taste. His curls fall onto your forehead as you bring him closer. A moan escapes his teeth in response. You giggle into his mouth before pulling away. His smile is brighter than ever before. You take a moment to collect yourself before letting go of his shirt. Your cheeks are burning and your heart feels like it could implode any second.

What just happened? There’s no way that just happened!

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He shyly pushes back his curls.

“You’ve been wanting to do that?” You scoff in happy disbelief.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs followed by a gleam, “I love you.”

In that instant, your whole life fell apart- in the best way possible. Your theories of getting stuck with someone you hate, living a boring life with them. All of your thoughts broke at the utter of those three measly words. Tears began to weld as you remembered that this is real. Tom, the boy next door known for making top of the line mudpies, just told you he loved you.

“And I know you love me too,” He chuckles, watching your eyes water. You can’t manage words or else you’ll truly cry so all you give him is a rapid nod. “I should’ve told you all those years ago, but.. I was afraid. My career was beginning. If I told you, I’d be broken leaving your side even for a second,” He buries his hands into his face in an attempt to mask his blush, “I know I chose a horrible time to say it with me in the middle of filming Spider-Man. It’s just you.. Looking at you.. Like this.. I just couldn’t help it-”

“Tom,” you interrupt with tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Yes?” He peaks at you through his fingers.

“Say it again.”

“Which part?”

“Say it again.”  You had to hear him say it again. You had to make sure he truly said it.

A smile stretches across Tom’s face as he sits up straight with confidence. “I love you, Y/N.” 

You lay your lips onto his once more as your tears brush onto his cheeks. He pulls back and picks a piece of pancake out of your hair before putting it into his mouth. He lets out a soft giggle and makes eye contact with you all the while.

“What’s so funny?” You question.

“You’re right, my pancakes are five star quality.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker #imagine

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Terror in the Sky

“Don’t you get it yet, Batman? You failed.”

Episode: 45 Robin: No Writer: Mark Saraceni (teleplay/story) and Steve Perry (story) Director: Boyd Kirkland Animator: Dong Yang Airdate: November 12, 1992 Grade: F

Ouch. Y’know, at least I’ve Got Batman in My Basement had fun stuff for the kiddies and an absolutely hilarious screwdriver duel. What does this episode have for anyone once they know the plot twist? I can’t think of a single thing. Not a single thing. Nothing stuck with me. Nothing is here that I care about seeing again. No killer lines. No great action scenes. Only a mildly good twist, and, well, it does have the incredibly cute scene from the She-Bat eating the fruit at the beginning, but really, this episode’s crime is just being flat out boring. I might even call it my least favorite episode so far. As if all this weren’t enough, this is the third episode within the last four to predominantly feature a human transforming into some type of creature-person hybrid. It doesn’t start off at the zoo again, thank the lord, but why this theme again? Twice that close together was pushing it. Yeah, seeing Langstrom a few episodes ago helps, it gives us a sense of continuity and story-ark, but I wanna see some other things from the world of Batman. I really like Man-Bat too, and a return sounds amazing on paper. Yet, while watching, I found myself looking at the time. What went so wrong?

Like I said, that fruit-eating bit was adorable. I really hope there’s a gif of that somewhere. After that, we see She-Bat going back to Langstrom’s house, and Langstrom jolts awake. Everything seems normal, and we are tricked into thinking that it was all a bad dream. Unfortunately, Langstrom gets up and finds scratches and fruit-splatter all over a throw-rug. This leads him to believe that he is turning back into the Man-Bat creature at night, and he simply doesn't remember it. But here’s what I wanna know. Why do they never notice his wife’s torn-up clothes? Does she never wake up to realize that all she’s wearing is tatters? This never sets off any red flags for either of them? That’s a bit of a plot-hole if I do say so myself. Also, his wife in this scene is wearing a shirt, which the bat-creature clearly was lacking. I know they had to fool us somehow, and they can’t show nekkid boobies on the show, but they coulda kept her covered up. I also thought it was pretty cold how she told Langstrom to just go back to sleep. Wow, how comforting.

When you walk through the house at night and you step in animal-piss.

Batman hears about the bat-creature, and pays Langstrom a visit in his laboratory. At the same time, his wife discovers the torn-up rug, and realizes what is apparently happening. So they both get pissed at him, and his wife threatens to leave him, which I understand, considering they both think that he’s screwing around with the Man-Bat formula again. Langstrom tells Batman, though, that he hasn’t messed with it at all, and that Batman’s antidote must have been a failure. In general he acts pretty unappreciative toward Batman. And I know that he’s stressed and likely feels like he’s being targeted, but he fails to remember that without Batman’s help, he’d be in a lot worse shape, likely contained. Batman saved your ass, and even if the antidote didn’t quite get you to a normal life, it at least did something. So, to prove that Langstrom isn’t messing with the formula, and that he’s changing involuntarily, Batman takes a DNA test. Planning on comparing it to the bat-creature, okay, but you’re 99.99% sure that it’s Langstrom with the wings. You want to make sure that he’s not doing it on purpose. Taking a DNA test would be to see who the creature is. From a writing perspective, I get it, but from Batman’s perspective, he shouldn’t need to do that. His logical conclusion should be to first, do some detective work, spying on Langstrom and his laboratory activities, and second, figure out why he’s changing again.

Batman runs into the bat-creature while outside on his motorcycle, and we get a fight which basically consists of Batman getting pelted with a garbage can a few times. Boyd Kirkland puts out some good stuff sometimes, but this directing is so boring! I swear, nothing interesting-looking ever happens  on screen in this entire episode! Remember On Leather Wings? Remember how dynamic some of those moments were? And to up the boringness a little more, it’s all snowy. Okay, cool change of environment. But when you do nothing with it, this leads to us looking at a lot of bland whites and grays, in addition to the brown of the bat.

After the two fight, there is a chase scene that you might as well fast-forward through, and it ends with, of course, Batman heading right toward a train on his motorcycle. Enough with the trains, it’s getting so cliché. Every time someone is on a train track in this show, just expect a train to inconveniently show up. Even Batman seems sick of it here. This is a scene where Batman is speeding through the snow and ice, being chased down by a giant bat that possibly wants to kill him. How about a more exciting way to end it? Luckily, though, the fight/chase allows Batman to pick up some hair from the creature, and he tests it, proving that Langstrom isn’t the bat. Of course, he now thinks that Dr March is the bat. At least that’s a logical conclusion. When Batman gives Langstrom the news, we learn that his wife has actually left him, and is boring a plane to some undisclosed location. Despite this, it’s really cool how he offers to help Batman catch the new Man-Bat. Batman says that he can handle it, though, so Langstrom heads off to find his wife and explain to her what is going on.

When Batman confronts Dr. March, Dr. March insists that he’s not responsible for the Man-Bat either, because he spilled the improved solution on the floor. But he remembers that his daughter (who is also Langstrom’s wife) helped him clean it up, and in the process, she cut her finger and exposed her blood to the solution. Girl, you’re in a laboratory working with chemicals. Wear gloves if you’re gonna clean up a mess that contains broken glass. Or wear gloves anyway! Duh! So it’s revealed that Francine is the new Man-Bat (or in this case, She-Bat), and it’s a twist that might surprise you your first watch, but it’s not gonna blow you away either. And as I said, once you know it, the episode is basically worthless. And you wouldn’t think so! Because now we shift to the airplane that Francine is on, and she mentions that she doesn’t feel so well. Great! We’re gonna get to see her transform into the bat and go berserk on a crowded plane, right? Well, kinda. After a terribly-animated transformation scene where she looks like one of Spielberg’s gremlins, she leaves the plane, creating a drop of cabin-pressure, and everyone is afraid that they’ll be sucked right out the door. Sounds exciting, but believe me, it’s not. It all feels so low-key considering the situation, and I have to point to Boyd Kirkland again. Dong Yang does no favors, though, because even though this is their episode, it 100% looks like Akom-work. Yeah. You see the problem. I really wish that instead of attempting a scene like this and failing, they would have tried another idea. This is one that I had. So, Langstrom is on the plane that his wife is supposed to be on. He saw her get on it. But when on the plane, he doesn’t see her. The episode would then call back to the Twilight Zone episode Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, and he’d see her outside on the wing. How she got there wouldn’t matter, and it would be a really fun moment. That's my way of how to improve the episode. By the way, after She-Bat escapes, Batman pulls up in his plane and rescues a woman from falling out with the Bat-Plane’s grabby arm. The whole thing is preposterous-looking, and I refuse to believe that, as a pilot, Batman has that much dexterity. Get outta here.

And then the rest of the episode is another chase sequence. Fun. Except this time it’s the Bat-Plane chasing She-Bat. I’m not someone who’s against the Bat-Plane or anything, I think that it has its uses. But, similar to the 1989 Batman, it can be so boring to watch. The chase feels like it goes on forever, and when it ends, Batman injects her with the antidote, and everything is right with the world. So with that, Batman takes off, leaving Kirk and Francine Langstrom up on a snowy, slippery bridge, doomed to freeze to death or fall. That basically sums it up. On the bright side, Char didn’t dislike the episode. She didn’t like it either, but I’m glad that I wasn’t insulting her time.

Get a load of this goofy shot.

“You’re on your own, guys.”

Char’s grade: C Next time: Almost Got’ im

Full episode list here!

#batman tas #batman the animated series #dc animated universe #dcau #btas #bathroom #terror in the #man-bat #manbat