#but he likes him because he’s scrappy and entertains him

[jasontoddsno1simp]

Thank you.

I see a lot of posts saying Jason being told this (as well as the way Bruce grieved him) would change things, and I mean...

Sure, maybe it would, but it damn sure wouldn't be for the better.

Because, at the end of the day, his murderer is still alive and he still has no justice.

Nevermind the fact that he's treated by the narrative that wanting that, wanting someone to care enough to give it to him makes him a selfish and ugly person. But we don't got time for that;!

The thing surrounding Dick killing the Joker for Tim and Bruce reviving him is that if Jason ever learned about that, his two conclusions would be:

A) Tim is worth killing for, and he (Jason) isn't;

B) Dick's clean hands are worth more than Jason's mangled corpse and his memory and his legacy.

[weebsinstash]

sitting here suddenly consumed with thoughts of Alastor x dog Reader because like

-Reader who is easily excitable and gets loud on accident and kind of easily distracted and you've got a tail that wags and Alastor adores his lovely little idiot puppy darling

-endless entertainment for him, really. You're just so... fun for him to fluster and get reactions out of, whether it's watching you get embarrassed you can't hide your wagging tail, or if you have expressive pointy ears, or you're getting scrappy and competitive with other dogs/hellhounds. He gives you a cheesy compliment and you could be rolling your eyes and telling him to fuck off, meanwhile your tail is making loud rapid thumping noises against the nearest surface and he always knows when he's hit one of your weak spots

-something something "being a dog is representative of you being kind of a bimbo; you're super friendly and cuddly but you're not always very bright and you get aggressive sometimes and also You Will Die Without Constant Love And Approval". I am all for super cunning yandere manipulating their lovingly dim-witted or at least just less intelligent victims

-just. Ok. Picture poly radiostatic and one of them is at home with you and the other one is out, and, say Vox is with you and he looks up from his phone to see you settled by the window watching the street, ears occasionally perking and drooping as you think you see dots of red on the street, and eventually Vox watches your tail just start wagging super fast and you all but race to the door and the second it opens and Alastor comes in, you're just giving him a big hug and maybe kisses idk to welcome him home, like 🥺❤️ Vox just clutching his chest as he saves the video of you being all sad by the window and all but racing to hug Alastor to his cloud storage, his back-up cloud storage, his back-up back-up cloud storage- also he shows Alastor the video later and, the Radio Demon won't admit it but he's extremely grateful for the sophistication of Vox's tech to capture every single pixel of your excited face as you realize you see your favorite cannibal coming from down the street, like.... you completely break through their defenses with your cuteness

-ngl, taller Reader with Vox and Alastor has been hitting me different and I can just see big fuzzy dog Reader scooping them both up and, not exactly manhandling or roughousong per se but just like, very openly affectionate, hugging lots, even picking them up, lots of cheek kisses. I wanna be like. A big lovable dumb Great Pyrenees or something. And also maybe peg them, because why else would their waists be so small if not for me to grab--

-Reader who uses magic to hide they're a dog from Alastor 🤝 Reader who uses their abilities to hide the fact they're a computer from Vox. I keep thinking of Readers with shape-shifting abilities and all the cute forms you could have but also the capacity for like, SUPER body dysmorphia since you can go from having hair and skin to either too much hair or no skin at all, kwim? Imagine being in some sort of transformation and that's when you meet one of them or another yandere or friend or whomever and then you're convinced they're not gonna like the real "ugly" you. Reader just hears Alastor say he doesn't like dogs and you get all depressed because you're his red string soulmate or some shit and you think he's gonna head for the hills (meanwhile he finds out and thinks you're absolutely precious)

-dog Reader who instead of licking just gives lots and lots of cheek and face kisses, like the shit you give to your cat almost but totally genuinely. Dog Reader with their separation anxiety ass getting like, kidnapped or something by some dumbass who thinks they can fuck with the Radio Demon, and you get saved and just all but tackle Alastor to just mwah mwah mwah all over his face while your tail wags, like 😭❤️ he'll never admit how much he likes it though-

- something something "when yandere Alastor finally takes you into his clutches, he'll probably make jokes about what a naughty puppy you've been and how he needs to collar you" and brings the whole dog theme full circle. What's the expression? "The bird who has always been caged dreams of freedom while the free bird wonders of the safety and security of the cage?" You could really apply this to any yandere story period but I also feel like the "you've been really betrayed and hurt and traumatized and might not be the best at taking care of yourself anymore and being taken care of by your captor is simultaneously terrifying yet welcomed" theme runs slightly deeper if Reader is quite literally having their physical form basically manifest as an epitome of emotional attachment and loyalty

- Alastor genuinely embodying that cop show meme of the woman holding the puppy except it's him and his darling. "Now I've had this scrappy little delight for just a mere day and a half now and if anything foul ever befell their poor soul, why, I think I would slaughter everyone in this Hotel, the rest of Hell, and then myself! Hahaha!"

[duckysprouts]

current bat games au lore

ok so here is part of what we have so far:

jason is no longer from district 2, he was originally a scrappy orphan from 12; he changed his name to "RED" after lazrus therapy and becoming a gladiator

Nightwing has a notorious reputation in the capitol as vain and bitchy. he constantly gets procedures done to look as young and beautiful as possible and will actively sabotage the new tributes' relationships with the capitol citizens. in reality, he is trying to protect the younger victors from being sexually exploited by putting himself on the front lines as the sex symbol

tim is the newest victor of the games. his mentor was barbara and they are both secretly working for the anti-capitol resistence.

damian is the political baby of a strategic union between talia and bruce to unite their clans without drawing suspicion from the government on why they're working closely. his parents are both big players in the capitol.

the al ghuls are the tinfoil hat conspiracy theorists of the capitol who believe the revolution is nigh. but instead of underground bunkers they prepare for the apocalypse by training their children in several warrior arts

bruce's alter ego is batman, political terrorist who is working behind the scenes to take down capitol corruption (good luck buddy)

the capitol has a capped maximum on how much wealthy citizens can donate as sponsorship because otherwise bruce wayne would sponsor all the kids in an effort for them to live

when jason was thrown into the arena, he had no living mentor and had to fend for himself. batman secretly helped him with tips and advice on how to survive

Nightwing tried to talk bruce out of sponsoring jason in the arena. it wasn't out of cruelty; he just thought it would be a better investment to sponsor a child who is more likely to live instead of a starving little boy from the weakest district bound to die. bruce sponsored jason anyway

bruce's parents were assassinated for the treasonous act of believing district citizens deserved human rights

jason's abundance of sponsorships made him a target in the arena. he got really messed up and had to go through a brutal, traumatic, and experimental rehabilitation called the lazarus project. he came out of it brain damaged and now most of his body consists of lab-grown flesh or robotic parts. (notice his fake eyes and how most of his body is covered up)

the hunger games are like the annual SuperBowl. for the rest of the year the capitol citizens enjoy entertainment like celebrity escorts (Nightwing) or gladiator games, which is basically the WWE but more deadly and no predetermined winner (RED)

gladiators all have a number that is worn by players and fans alike. most gladiators wear theirs on their armour but RED wears his as a corpse identification tag on his ear

tim purposefully makes himself seem boring and unlikable so that the capitol will allow him to go home rather than stay at the capitol like nightwing and RED.

tim is probably on like 10 different government watchlists

damian keeps nightwing around as a friend/babysitter, since he gave every other one he had a mental breakdown

damian keeps jason around as a personal weaponsmith/arms instructor (hired by talia)

talia and bruce have split custody of damian

nightwing and RED are top-celebs in their fields

bruce's name is brucellosis I'm sorry that's just the way it is

bruce stopped sponsoring for a while after jason's injury cause he blamed himself

hunger games sponsors are like gambling or horse race betting. if your sponsored victor lives you get more money back. but it is so costly with such high stakes that most people don't do it

nightwing volunteered for some random kid who he had no connection with because he has no self-preservation and is kinda self sacrificing like that

nightwing's mentor was starfire. he had a massive crush on her and she'd pat his head

RED has a tense relationship with bruce and Nightwing but also trusts them more than anyone else

there are more but they require more context and characters so hang tight. suggestions welcome! just dm me in my inbox

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

So, what do you think the Links were like as kids?

(your choice of AU, or general HC)

Linked Universe Headcanons #2

Wild: I think Wild was a talkative but quiet, shy, bookish kid. Of course, his finding of the sword in the woods at such a young age (at least how I head canon him) forced him into knighthood, where he went silent for years because of the pressure. His sister, on the other hand, was an energetic chatterbox, and despite being the younger, he was always running around to keep up with her. They fell out of touch once Wild went off to the castle to train ;-; Wild is a lot more outgoing after the whole amnesia thing, but that shy, bookish kid still exists somewhere inside him.

Twilight: He was the loud, brash, snaggletooth kid (he has horribly crooked teeth and you cannot take this head canon away from me) that was always pestering the neighbors for food or entertainment. On the bright side, that meant he was always reliable to be around to help out, and as he grew up and became more serious, he became a great role model and babysitter for the younger kids.

Time: gremlin. No knowledge of social skills, no knowledge that property damage or theft is bad.

Warrior: I think he was a prim and proper noble's child, but an adopted one. I have stolen this head cannon from elsewhere but I cannot for the life of me remember who originally said it. Anyways, Warrior was a cute kid that some couple adopted from the orphanage solely because he was cute, and he had a lonely but not uncomfortable childhood. He felt stifled and went into the army for some excitement and uh... got in over his head.

Sky: Sky, like Time, is also a gremlin. His gremlin nature, however, is not borne of ignorance, but rather intentional shenanigans. There's no way that boy was bringing down chandeliers without practice.

Four: Four, again, makes gremlin number 3. He trained from a young age to be a swordsman, and he was mighty heady about it. I defer to @not-freyja 's expertise on this one. But yeah he was a little butthole.

Wind: Loud. He has a relationship like Wild did with his sister, if they were switched---he was (and still is) adventurous and brave and a bit belligerent, and his sister just follows his lead.

Legend: He was... a sweet kid. Going off of his uncle's example, he learned to swordfight and, most importantly, to help others. He's a heart on his sleeve, give the shirt of his back to another type kid. He's jaded from his adventures, now.

Hyrule: Skittish and shy, but scrappy when he needs to be. He's been on his own for a while now even as a kid, and he knows that it's better to flee a situation where he could get hurt 100 times over standing his ground. However, when backed into a corner like an animal, he'll fight like one. He finds his bravery later, but that instinct to run still lingers in the back of his mind

[fratboybeezer]

some convos have lead me to get emotional about joel farabee so. enjoy. under read more because i may have went a little overboard idk you can judge that

i regularly think about his house, about how he lets (encourages) the young guys to stay with him, how he doesn’t want guys to have to stay at the hotel. how his first thought when he moved in and realized how much space he had was to fill it with teammates. he’s in philly in the offseason to train, and he’s making sure the guys staying with him train as well, but also they’re all having their fun at the same time. he practically adopted foery as his little brother, let’s foery drag him around philly all summer, keeping the kid entertained!!! even when guys aren’t living with him, he encourages them to stay at his place after going out. he cares so much about this team!!!! about his teammates!!! our love for the team does not compare to his love for the team!!

i genuinely think that sometime in the near future he will have a letter, idk if it’s going to be an A or a C (i’m super bias and want to see him with the C in the future) but i know he’s leadership potential. and it’s not just off ice, he’s talented as hell! he wouldn’t have made it to the nhl if he wasn’t good, but i don’t even think it’s me being bias when i say he’s one of our top guys. and he also defends guys on the ice when needed! he’s not one of our main fighters, but he’s gets scrappy when needed, one of those times being in january to defend york.

and he genuinely seems so fun to be around!! and so nice!! when i met him in october, it was like a 2 minute interaction and only a few words were exchanged, but listen he fucking gentle toned me. i almost died. he’s just a silly guy!! he’s just a dude!! and he’s our silly dude!!!!

[chaifootsteps]

they're not alike class wise but if people want an mlm messy ship where both characters are flawed, vikdecai is right there

like both of them are strongly characterized, different individuals from very different backgrounds

both of them have some common ground (respect for Atlas, initial loyalty to the Lackadaisy)

and we actually see both of them bond with one another and know why they get along - they can fight about petty things all day long but the moment they're done they just chill happily together.

Mordecai is the one person who isn't scared of /intimidated by Viktor outside of Ivy and Viktor seems to find Mordecai's character tics entertaining and likes teasing him

they have the height difference, they have Mordecai sharing Blitzo's trait of being from a marginalized background and being scrappy with a massive chip on his shoulder. Meanwhile Viktor shares Stolas' tragic broken family background, but he doesn't avoid his daughter out of neglect or selfishness but because he wants to keep her away from his life of crime

it's a ship where one of them is clearly smarter and more educated, but while Mordecai corrects Viktor's grammar and snipes at his chess skills he still respects Viktor and goes out of his way to have his back and try and keep him out of danger. he doesn't talk down to him constantly like Stolas did with Blitzo. same with Viktor, Mordecai annoys the living daylights out of him but then he'll do this casual act of kindness like retrieving his glasses (Stolas could never) and he never treats him differently because he's Jewish

and it has the angsty tragedy of Mordecai leaving and kneecapping Viktor and Viktor being rightfully hurt by that. but Mordecai didn't do that out of contempt, he likely did it out of care for Viktor because he knew the Lackadaisy boat was sinking and he wasn't about to let Viktor drown with it. then Viktor foiled all his plans by being stubborn

like it has everything you could want from stol1tz and doesn't requiring retconning or ignoring one of them calling the other a plaything for it to work

The messy, toxic gay relationship we deserve.

[enquiringangel]

Family Dinner

for @themarginalthinker who wanted Max introducing Lucy to his Boys. Some David/Michael and vague David/Michael/Star because I am weak, lol.

When Max told him of his plans to turn some woman he met and her two kids, David got it. He was lonely once too. Before his boys came along, it had been just the two of them for a good thirty years.  And Max was many things, but entertaining company? Definitely not one of them. It was like living with an undead accountant. By that point David had seriously begun to wonder if it was possible for an immortal to die of sheer boredom.  

In his own way, Max had understood this. Though he got annoyed with him whenever David had been too messy or too obvious with his kills, in the very next moment he would dismiss it as ‘the impetuousness of youth’. And when David had come back to their lair one night unable to stop gushing about this guy he’d met down by the docks and how fun it had been to watch this scrappy kid defend himself with a crowbar against five guys and win, Max had studied him curiously and asked, “Would you like a brother, David?”  

The rest was history. Max had given him Marko, then later Dwayne, then Paul, and boredom and loneliness had become a thing of the past. So yeah, he could understand Max wanting to have someone on his own wavelength for company through eternity. That didn’t mean Max’s whole ‘let’s play happy families’ shtick wasn’t ridiculous though. He didn’t need mothering. That ship had long set sail. 

Still, Max was pretty insistent on them coming along tonight. “I’ve already told her about you,” he said, in response to the Boys’ complaints about wasting a perfectly good Friday sitting around a table and playing house when they could be off doing things that were actually fun. “Lucy said she would like to meet you all properly. And I wouldn’t want to disappoint her by turning up without you.” Despite their maker’s mild words and genial tone, the look in his eye made it very clear that their presence at this family dinner was not a request.  

"Besides,” Max continued. “Her boys will be there. This will be the perfect opportunity for you to get to know each other better.” 

The four younger vampires had all exchanged smirks, since they felt that they were already getting to know Michael pretty well on their own. But David wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to spend more time with him. There was a wildness hiding behind that Joe-normal façade. A darkness. David wanted to crack Michael open and taste it.  

Michael, he had decided, was even worth sacrificing a Friday night for. When he had shared this opinion with the boys, they had all teased him something rotten.  

Assholes, he thought affectionately as he glanced across at Marko and Dwayne who were crammed in the back seat with him. Paul had called dibs on shotgun to have control over the radio; Max insisted they were all going in his car instead of taking their bikes, but that didn’t mean they had to be subjected to Barry Manilow the entire way. Paul was currently slapping his thigh and singing along to Poison’s ‘Talk to Dirty to Me’. In the interest of keeping the peace, Max endured this in a long-suffering way, other than to keep turning the volume down. Whenever his attention was on the road, Paul would surreptitiously turn it back up again.  

Max drove along a rutted track until they came to a lodge-style farmhouse, the yard decorated with lots of wooden carvings. The boys had been here before of course, when they had dropped Michael home after their fun proved a little too much for his fledgling self to handle. They unfolded themselves from Max’s car, while their maker fussed around straightening out the wrapping on the bouquet he’d brought with him and adjusting his tie.  

The boys were dressed in their preferred style, though Max had demanded Dwayne put a shirt on for the occasion, something that Dwayne had complied with in malicious silence. The black t-shirt was Paul’s, meaning it was a size or two too tight, hugging Dwayne’s pecs. Across the front in white letters were emblazoned the words: ‘GUITARISTS FINGER BETTER.’ Max appeared not to have noticed. 

“Now boys, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you to be on your best behavior,” Max warned as he led them to the front door. The thoughts that streamed into David’s head were a reminder of what awaited them should they fail to do so: a few weeks spent clawing at the lining of a coffin buried in a shallow grave, with wild roses laid on the lid to stop them breaking out. Max had a very literal interpretation of ‘grounding’. 

One day old man. One day, David vowed, careful to keep the thought to himself.  

Just as Max raised his fist to knock on the door, who should open it but Michael? 

The half-vampire looked astonished to see them. “David?” he blurted out, ignoring Max’s attempt to greet him as if he wasn’t even there. “Guys? What are...wait.” He flicked his eyes between the four motorcycle-riding punks and the unassuming and badly dressed man in a suit and did the necessary math. “...this guy’s your dad?” In the bond blooming between their minds, David could hear Michael’s confusion over the fact that the gang had apparently been serious when they called each other brothers. ‘They don’t look anything alike...’ 

“We’re all adopted,” Marko put in helpfully, answering the unspoken question.  

Max cleared his throat. He was smiling, but if you knew him you could see there was definitely an edge to it. “That’s correct. Hi, you must be Michael.” He extended a hand in greeting. 

Michael didn’t take it, instead looking Max coolly up and down. “And you must be Max,” he said, sneering faintly.  

Max was spared from further awkwardness by the sound of heels tapping rhythmically on the carpet and the appearance of a smiling woman with short red hair. “Michael? Is there someone at—Oh, hi!” she said, hurrying over. Lucy smiled at him, before turning her attention to the four (seemingly) young men standing on the doorstep. For a moment her smile faltered slightly and as he met her eyes David could hear her thoughts loud and clear. ‘These are the boys who were in the video store a few nights ago...why would Max kick them out if they’re his sons?’ 

This lady’s smart. Guess it skipped a generation, David thought to himself. But Michael was pretty enough that it didn’t matter, he supposed. 

He gave her his most winning smile.  “Hi. You must be Lucy, we’ve heard so much about you. I’m David.” He clasped one of her hands like she was one of the debutantes he had never been allowed anywhere near as a human, and brushed his lips across the back of her knuckles. A quick glance at Michael told him that the other boy looked like he was either going to have an aneurism or punch him in the face again - it was fantastic. 

Lucy laughed, delighted. “My goodness, what a charmer! Max, you’re raising a heartbreaker,” she teased, still chuckling. 

“I try,” David said, smiling impishly. “This is Dwayne, Paul and Marko.” He nodded to each and the boys greeted her in turn, Dwayne with a nod and one of his bedazzling smiles, Marko with a grin and a little wave, and Paul with a brief hug and a kiss to each cheek, continental style.  

“I’m so sorry, where are my manners?” Lucy exclaimed, stepping back from the doorway so that they could file past her. “Please come inside, all of you. Michael honey, are you going out or coming in?” she added. 

Michael blinked; he had been staring at David so intently that when he tore his gaze away there was almost an audible rupture. “Hm? Oh right. Yeah, I was just leaving."  

Michael’s thoughts were full of Star, and it made David grit his teeth. He was not jealous; that was ridiculous. They were both his, and he didn’t mind Michael fucking her. But they could’ve at least had the courtesy to invite him to join them. 

(Okay, so maybe he was slightly miffed that Star had gotten a taste of Michael before him. Just a little.) 

“Aw, you’re not going are you Michael?” Marko asked as he stepped past Michael into the house.  

“Yeah, come on you gotta stay man.” Paul gave Michael a friendly shove, and then was quickly distracted by the novelty of his reflection in the hallway mirror. He drifted over to it. 

“You could give us a tour,” Dwayne suggested, poking at a taxidermied beaver smoking a cuban cigar.  

“That’s a good idea,” Lucy agreed, eager to have Michael stay for dinner with them all. And pleased that they already appeared to know one another and to get along so well. Max presented her with the flowers and she led him off into the dining room to go and put them into some water. 

Michael appeared torn. He wanted to see Star, yes, but the thoughts continuously leaking across into David’s mind revealed that what he actually wanted more than anything else was answers. Star hadn’t actually told him anything, and had in fact protested tearfully that she couldn’t, and that she didn’t know how to help him. But David had done this to him, hadn’t he...so maybe he could help put it right again. 

David looped his arm around Michael’s shoulders and gave him a friendly squeeze. “Come on, Michael. Stay. I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about,” he said, eyeing Michael meaningfully. His lips curled into a grin.  

After a moment, Michael nodded and stepped into the house, closing the door behind him.  

((The Boys 5 minutes later: *all jockeying for position at the mirror and standing there pulling funny faces and cracking up at the novelty. The line about Max's interpretation of 'grounding' was inspired by @marypsue's brilliant fic 'look for something left in this world'.))

[gryficowa]

Something pisses me off that people in the fandom reduce all the criticism of the episode with Marinette's trauma to the fact that people in the fandom are stupid or love Chloe too much and hate Marinette

No, people don't like this episode because it has no respect for the viewer and it has many problems that are revealed later in the same season, on top of that, I question whether Adrien's trauma was addressed at all in a respectful way, or whether they justified everything by that he is a senti monster? Exactly

By the way, defenders of this episode, I hope you were going after Felix like you were going after Chloe? Oh no, wait, he was a victim of domestic violence and he was rich, so like Chloe, but he was a boy, so his trauma is more important

But coming back, this episode with Marinette's trauma is problematic on many levels, mainly because it fucks with the logic even more than in the first season when in the episode "Origins" when they rescued Chloe, and then in "Lady Wi-Fi", the chat noir suspects that Chloe it's a ladybug and don't ask about logic, because there is none

Not only does Kim and Chloe make so much sense that Chat Noir from the episode "Lady Wi-Fi" could give a high five on this topic, but calling it "Feature Sharpening" is an understatement, it's more like Thomas had too much to drink before writing the entire script for the episode, and like a typical kid, he created the episode like one of the "Scooby-Doo" movies, where Scrappy-Doo was an out-of-character character in order to be antagonized (Because the fandom didn't like him, so it's better to kill off the whole character this way)

What's the best way to end the story of a father who abuses his child? Give him a statue, the fandom will 100% love it

Seriously, Thomas, we all know you didn't write this episode for traumatized people, but just to go the way people did to kill Scrappy-Doo, which was to kill Chloe herself so that the fandom would hate her and Kim in the process suffered, because why not?

And by the way, to explain your imaginary daughter with your ex…

The standards of this series also contributed to the reception of this episode, and I would also like to remind you that Zag wanted redemption for Chloe, but Thomas himself did not want it, so when Zag left to create the film, Thomas went to destroy the whole Chloe, because like a child he cannot reconcile with this, that a fictional character can have any development and tried his hardest to kill Chloe like a Scappy-Doo movie, seriously Thomas, I understand a lot, but as a creator you should use it to your advantage and not kill her off because you hate your character so much (Like a child what creates illustrations of cartoon characters dying because he hates them)

Seriously, this show has 00's to 2010 vibes, but today? Such productions are more annoying than entertaining (And I say this as a 01-year-old)

This writing by Chloe and Kim seriously has Scrappy-Doo movie vibes to me

So the episode with Marinette's trauma is even more irritating, because anyone sensitive will notice what Thomas did here and it is a seriously conscious murder of his characters.

The context of this episode makes you feel offended rather than understood by the creator, because it's not about empathy towards people with trauma like Marinette, but about killing off the characters of Chloe and Kim

No matter how much I love the trope of the main character who, over time, turns out to have a trauma that the viewer doesn't know about, this show fucked it up and resulted in a not-so-good taste

It's just the context of this episode that causes it, I'm seriously sensitive to this way of writing and it has irritated me since I was a child, I was hoping that the newer the cartoons, the more it would disappear, but then Thomas appeared and did my hated trope, but turned it up to the max

Sometimes I wonder why many great creators get as few seasons as possible, while Thomas gets more

Because no matter how much I liked this show, after Chloe's arc fell apart and the writing fell apart because killing Chloe is more important than everything else in this show, it made me fed up

And because of creators like Thomas, many people consider animations as worthless and only entertainment for small children, because Thomas' writing style is effortless (And even productions for preschoolers can handle it, yes, I'm talking about "Bluey"), just as little as possible, and the fact that the fandom swallows everything has a simple task in this topic

Thomas had a good idea, but Miracolous's greatest enemy was Thomas himself

Damn, it's hard for me to come back to the series, but "Ladybug PV" is awesome, so Thomas himself has gone backwards in the development of his work, literally.

Ok, Felix was still problematic (It was chat noir back then, for those who don't know the history of the miracolous creation process)

But if Thomas could develop the character… Oh no, wait, he can't, that's why Felix became Adrien

By the way, Mr. Pigeon and the mime from the first season appeared in this version, just an interesting fact

I also have the impression that the characters had a better design than in the current series

There was another 3D version, which also looked amazing, so the version we got is the worst and this thought kills me, because this series could have been something more, but Thomas himself killed it, i.e. the creator killed his creation before showing it in its entirety to the world (Congratulations, Thomas)

Yes, I had to let go of all my frustration with the show and the fandom, because it's fucked up that when you criticize the bad writing of Marinette's trauma, people come up with their theories on why you do it, not why you do it and why you don't like it

[badassbutterfly1987]

Shades of Magic: Hunger Games AU

(Technically a Catching Fire AU)

Lila Bard has always been a survivor. Scrappy and vicious and more durable than anyone else expected. So, once the initial bout of angry swearing is out of her system, she slumps back onto the couch. “They’re trying to kill us. We broke the rules and this is how they do it. One last spectacle for the districts.”

There was only ever supposed to be one victor, never two. They’d defied that with their pretend love story and holding knives to their own throats. Two victors, they had declared. You get two victors or none.

She had hoped this would be the end. One last performance, one last fight, and then finally return to Barron. Return to the Grey Districts.

Neither of them should be here, Alucard especially. Red District-born, only kicked down to her level because of political shenanigans.

“Not just us, Bard,” Alucard drawls. “Every victor. Take them out before they can be swayed by rebellion.”

She can, grudgingly, see the logic. Efficient and more entertaining for the masses. Before it had been children and barely adults in the arena, now it will be experienced killers from every district. “So we’re fucked.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Alucard fidgets with the coin in his hand. “On the bright side, you’ll get to see what the Red districts look like first.”

...

“No, no, this isn’t right,” Rhy insists. “You did your time, they can’t make you do this again!”

Kell doesn’t argue; they both know this is happening either way. Osaron wants the victors to fight and die in the Quarter Quells and that is what he will get.

It doesn’t matter that they belong to the highest family in Arnes, in the most successful Red District. It doesn’t matter that Rhy is treated as the beloved prince of his people. It hadn’t protected them when they were 14.

He volunteered in Rhy’s place back then, prepared to die for him. He can kill for him again.

“Maybe I won’t get picked,” Kell offers. “The Red Districts, Arnes especially, has produced dozens of victors. I like our odds.”

...

Holland is told of the plot before the others, one of the few benefits of being sponsored by the Danes; they know when to keep him in the loop. At least it gives him time to think up a plan.

“Nasi can’t go back to the arena,” Vortalis says as he moves an ost piece. “She was lucky last year; that won’t save her a second time.”

Vortalis had hunted down and killed half of the other tributes his year; Holland had managed to kill three; Nasi had spent most of the game hiding in the trees and killed one person.

She is still under her bed after hearing the news, refusing to speak or come out.

“Ojka has already agreed to volunteer in her place.” Holland knows he will hate this next part. “I will volunteer as well.”

“Holland-“

“You can’t fight the way you used to,” he interrupts, moving a piece. “I still can.”

Vor moves slower now, weakened by half-healed injuries and the passing decades. Holland can't sleep alone at night without having nightmares but violence comes easily to him now, both his sponsors and former mentor ensured that.

“Besides, you can sway our benefactors more if you’re working on the outside.”

They both know he isn’t speaking only of the Capitol’s elite. The whispers of rebellion have only grown louder over the years. This might be enough for something to change.

Vortalis gives a grim smile then, gripping his hand. “Then we’d best start on figuring out the competition.”

[captainbobbin]

tagged by @goth-automaton yeehaww

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I am gonna skim over a couple of fics though that I think were a bit rushed haha - my last batch of fics that came out were all done as part of my one-fic-per-day challenge so some of them are a bit scrappy haha; sue me for only using the fics from that challenge that I felt came out a little more solid lmao

Bearbaiting (nsfw)

“Prove it,” Astarion had spat, and none too kindly.

Earth, Comet, Eclipse

“Your dad's sleeping tonight,” Terra explained once Xion found him outside. He’d asked her earlier in the day to find him, and now he leaned against the wall and gave her an easy smile, which she returned. She liked Terra. She liked how comfy he was, how easy he was to be around. He gave a nod towards the wooded area nearby, the expanse of forest that hugged the edge of one of the rivers that ran around the Land of Departure. “Berserk, however, is up and hunting. Thought we'd go make it a game. You in?”

Midas

“Sanji,” Zeff whispers, hunched by the kitchen door and peering out, tone hushed and severe. Usually it's eggplant or brat or boy. Must be important. When Sanji totters over he's barely hip-height, far too young to be in a galley and far too young to be anywhere else. A hand plants on his head carefully to corral him, aim his gaze outward, and above and below they share the two-inch gap of the door and look out at the dining room. “Look.”

Afterimage (nsfw)

Saïx was pretty familiar with Xemnas’ abilities. Not all of them, which would infuriate him if only he was lucky enough to be allowed such a feeling for Saïx always wanted to know more, but for the most part Xemnas’ strange quirks and magical talents had stopped being unexpected. He’d grown numb to Xemnas floating off of the floor, to lights responding and things moving with barely even a glance, to thorns of nothing winding around things Xemnas’ wanted brought closer - himself included.

Trained Talent (nsfw)

There was a bit of a stereotype about jesters; that they were all secretly miserable, hard done by, only putting on a brave face and faking their cheer because at all times they were at risk of being admonished by whichever member of royalty they tried to entertain. That performers wore masks and actually suffered behind their smiles. There was a nugget of truth to it - a smile is a good way to cover up a frown, after all - but the truth that was more potent was that being a clown was a position of power.

Budbloom

Elliott, truthfully, didn’t spend that much time at the cabin these days.

The Front

Sanji wasn't an idiot. He knew from the first moment he applied for the job that Raindinners was sketchy as fuck. He'd been around, knew kitchens, could tell when corners were being cut - and believe him, they're cut often in a lotta places - but this was something else altogether.

Headspace

“What do you want, Booga?” Jasper snarled as the other Spectral Sentinel all but waltzed into his private quarters after the sound of grating rumbling shook the entire floor. The dull creature had no concept of boundaries and Jasper knew that that was not about to change, but by the goddess he ought to at least learn to knock adequately.

Shear

Xemnas thought often about the concept of trust.

Deathroll (nsfw)

Surviving past lovers, had they the gall, might go so far as to call Crocodile lazy.

I'm surprised that I don't start with dialogue more often - I feel like I often open the fic with something spoken or something that comes back later, but it seems that I actually often start with an establishing paragraph that sets up the point of view characters current emotional state/line of thought. Which isnt a bad thing tbh! Though I think I'm going to have to try and change things up now and then haha

anyone who would like to do this meme, feel free to join in! I'd love to see @hroggins, @winxixia, @finlands-beret share their version and their thoughts but no pressure of course!

[mister-eames]

1/? If you wrote a thesis on Arthur and Eames I would literally carry it around in my pocket & read it daily, so I’m begging you!! Please don’t spare your 5k essay on why you think Arthur thinks he doesn’t have a chance with Eames!! I Wanna know your thoughts on this!! Because I think it’s a combination of elements. Firstly I think initially Arthur truly believes Eames doesn’t like him. They’re too different. Arthur is everything Eames isn’t & vice versa. & even tho the saying goes “opposites

2/? attract”.. sometimes you just clash & that’s that.. I think at first he also mistakes Eames playfulness, his snark, quips & attempts at riling Arthur up as genuine condescension & disdain. I also read once in a fic where Arthur made a comment about how nobody likes the pointman cos at the end of the day it’s his job to pick apart everybody else’s work & point out the weaknesses. So the idea that a guy like Eames, who as a forger has one of the most creative/artistic roles in dreamshare. --- 3/3 would be interested in a guy whose role often involves probably telling people to tone it down... yeah. Not gonna happen. & then I think there’s that fear of mixing business with pleasure. The idea of ruining such a great working partnership by bringing something as messy as FEELINGS into it? I think that’s something that would make Arthur not even entertain the idea of ever having anything more with Eames because how could he ever risk losing Eames as a work partner?

---

Aha, are you ready? Obvs these are all just my headcanons, and that the beauty of inception is that the characters can be who we want them to be, all interpretations are valid, etc etc...

So, with Arthur and why I think he thinks doesn't have a chance with Eames. You're right that it's a combination of elements:

I think, at his core, Arthur like, all of us, carries some kind of emotional bruising when it comes to loving and being loved. And like, all of us, Arthur does not think he's perfect. He has self-perceived flaws. Every single one of us, as human beings, has insecurities - even Arthur. I think he uses all of the surface, logical, 'rational' arguments like not wanting to mix business and pleasure to justify not actually addressing these hurts and insecurities.

You know my personal headcanon for Arthur, generally speaking canonically, is that he did not come from money. He grew up poor with a parent that wasn't, say, well enough to be there for him the way a child would need. That he was the caretaker in the household most of the time.

And, bear with me here, on Arthur caring about his looks - Arthur is buttoned up to all hell not because of vanity, but because of how he will be perceived--- he wears his suits less like armour and more like a weapon. Arthur, to me, is scrappy, not defensive.

But despite how he presents himself, deep down Arthur still is that fourteen year old version of himself, the one that lashed out everyone Eventually, he learned to control that anger, the one that showed everyone else where he was wounded -- but he never addressed the ways he was hurt, or the parts of him that has always been deeply lonely. As an adult he isn't keen on loving anyone else because it's always been a one-way transaction. He does not know how to interpret loving someone and being loved in return. For him, what does that even look like? Arthur doesn't want to love anyone because he's never received the same output of love he gives out. And maybe he thinks something is wrong with him, for feeling affection the way he does and never truly getting it back in kind - platonic, familial or romantic.

So he wears his weaponry to keep people from getting too close to touch, figuratively speaking. And maybe Eames takes him on face value for a beat too long.

While I don't really consider Arthur and Eames to be opposites, I do think they are flip sides of the same coin. They share a basic foundation, beliefs, ethics - but can also clash where they combine. It's like when you just... get someone on a basic level, like you share a frequency without needing years of getting to know them. Like when you meet someone and you just know you must have known each other in a past life. Arthur thinks that this weird, antagonistic thing he has with Eames is something different, isn't it? Except, it isn't. It's just love, baby.

Arthur feels it, with Eames. That 'something'. Over time it develops into a feeling that is both thrum and quiet. Like his whole body is vibrating but also completely still just by being near him, thinking about him.

But, at least initially, Arthur is just too... wary to place his money on it, that feeling. It's never provided dividends before.

Which isn't to say that Eames is the one to show Arthur he is 'worth loving', or anything like that. I believe that Arthur comes to that realisation all by himself - realistically, they're both still young and young enough to be insecure at the time of the film. Late 20's, 30s? Babies, in the grand scheme of adulthood. They are only just consolidating out who they are, really. But Arthur, at some point, realizes its okay to put his sword down and be loved in a different way from those who'd said they'd loved him before. To have someone take care of him, to run point for him. He gets better at reading love languages.

And I think, to address Arthurs own insecurities -- we all also have that kind of rose-tinted view of the ones we love while thinking we are plain and unremarkable - we look at them and go fuck, you are amazing, you are incredible, you can do anything and you don't even know it, how do you not know how powerful you are?? --- that's part of it too. Maybe he looks at Eames, Cobb and Mal and thinks just that. Maybe he wonders in what world would Eames ever look at him the same way? Maybe he does underestimate his own power and he takes it all too seriously and to heart when he's not perfect. Maybe he can't look past his own fuck ups in life and in work that it truly clouds his perception of himself and his compatibility with others.

That, I think, are the basic fears Arthur has. It's like inception, right, these 'simplest version of ideas' manifest in more convoluted ones. Those fears get translated and articulated into very simple 'reasonable' arguments he hoodwinks himself with so he never has to face his own vulnerability: it would never work out. I don't like the way he does x, y, z. He is so annoying. He doesn't even like me like that. It'd be bad for business. It's not worth the risk. We're here to work.

So I think Arthur leaves his attraction to Eames like a mailbox slowly accumulating with more and more junk mail. He'll clean it out some day, pushed aside in his own mind, left unattended by him for a long time without realizing the pile is growing. On this, some of my fave fics are the ones where Arthur has this sort of... comically misbehaving subconscious because of his ignored affection for Eames. The ones where there are errant projections who fawn over Eames, or the ones where his subconscious is literally incapable of hurting him. I think Arthur is not.. repressed... as an individual, but the feelings he has for Eames are so large and encompassing and that he's tried to fit it into too small of a box, and that box is spilling out at the sides. What he feels cannot be contained or disposed of. He would be that kind of hot mess.

But, Arthur, you darling fool. The feeling is mutual.

[dukemeropide]

if you ever have to fight another version of yourself and get hit and it hurt...... does that mean that you're weak or that you're strong

”Hah. What a question.” The Duke, now merely another guest observing the fenced platform beneath the spotlights in the middle of the room, glances down at his new gray-haired companion. Amusement draws a smile across his lips and catches the light in his eyes. It’s an odd question, but in the intermission between gripping matches, while the soon-to-be-opponents stretch and eye each other across the ring below, he can afford the time to entertain it.

So he crosses his arms to think. “I’d be more worried about how there was another me,” he jokes lightly, because surely this guy can’t be serious. But, serious or not, Wriothesley can give him an answer, and a real one, too. His years gathering credit coupons in the Pankration ring have provided him a number of experiences to draw from, not exactly the same - after all, this hypothetical doppelganger just isn’t possible, as far as he knows - but close enough. The amusement cools a little across a cold, but not quite icy countenance, as he settles on something of substance:

”Have you ever met someone who fights the same way you do? Same weapon. Same stance. Same technique. Same body size. They’re rare, in my experience.” His boxing had been born on the streets, trained by bloody lips and broken noses, and refined, not by a master, but by necessity. It was an amalgamation of experiences, informal, scrappy, and almost completely unique to him, but not entirely. Other street urchins could learn to fight the way he had, and he’d even met a few of them. Of those, only a small handful matched him in height and weight, and fewer still made him feel as if he faced off with his reflection. But it had happened, once. Maybe twice.

“Fights like that are the best way to learn about yourself. They let you find weak points you never knew you had, because you’re seeing them from the outside for the first time. And if you get hit, and it hurts, that just means you have to figure out how to counter strikes like that. Fighting yourself probably wouldn't be too different.” He smiles, just a little puckish, as the bell rings to signal the start of the next match. “Win or lose, what matters is that you get better for it, wouldn't you say?”

[greatwesternway]

Traintober 1: Free Day - Duck and Diesel and Oliver and Sonny

It's a lazy Sunday so have an Engines in Sidings alternative events chat about a scene I don't plan to write for Traintober Day 1.

DJ: I was also lookin' at my Sonny chapter for Engines in Sidings and thinkin' about that point at which Duck and Diesel finally are forced to talk.

Ray: I saw that at the top of my list when I was looking at the list of docs on my phone the other day so I was wondering if you were fucking with it, lol.

DJ: And I don't think I'm gonna actually put this in because I think it's a better story if Duck never knows about how Diesel came to get bought. But supposing he asked, because he would have been curious. Diesel would tell him that Hatt thinks he let a steam engine escape his old yard. And of course Duck asks if he did, because he's hip to Diesel's evasive bullshit by now. To which Diesel would just rattle off the line again. "It was dark and we're all painted black." Which tells Duck nothing conclusive but is a very strange way to put it. And he rather thinks Diesel would outright deny it if it he hadn't. So Duck guesses at it. "So… yes?"

Which Diesel finds annoying, but at the same time, he'd not have thought Duck would even entertain the thought that he would have helped a steam engine. So he huffily elaborates. "I didn't help him escape. I just didn't stop him either." Which Duck has nothing to say to that, but he thinks quite a lot.

Tells Oliver about it later, wants to know what he thinks of that. And this is after Sonny has explained to the two of them that diesels helping him is how he made it to Sodor at all. If Diesel is telling the truth, Oliver thinks that's more than you could rightly expect of a diesel back then. Doesn't think they should be super friendly with Diesel about it or anything. Just that, assuming it's true, it's surprising.

Ray: Oliver doesn't hate Diesel the way Duck does, because he wasn't there, but he knows enough to know how Duck feels about the situation and after hearing only Duck's side of it for so long, I think he'd be a little surprised to hear this about him.

DJ: No, and Duck is a smidge annoyed because he was hoping Oliver - with his history with diesels - would validate his wish to be more uncharitable with this story. But if Oliver - and apparently Hatt - is willing to entertain it, then maybe Duck should too. Which is so funny because you'd think yourself a fool to do that otherwise.

Ray: Oliver doesn't hate diesels in specific, he's just… wary, I think. He knows he's safe on Sodor, but Duck doesn't have that kind of history with the island and also never had to run for his life. From an outside perspective, you'd assume Oliver would take his side, but it's not that simple. Oliver also has more experience with diesels in general, I think he'd know that their behavior in Diesel's story checks out.

DJ: It's because Sonny tells him about the diesels at the power plants who found coal for him. Oliver's escape would have been so much easier if diesels had been like that in his day instead of actively hunting for him. But knowing that they are apparently like that now, and this scrappy little steam engine made it all the way here after years of steam being abolished… Oliver has to imagine that diesels didn't just decide to be helpful one day.

Ray: Oliver putting 2 and 2 together to get 4 and Duck like "I'm not doing that math. I simply won't."

DJ: Will. Not! Which, to be fair to Duck, that math actually doesn't check out for Diesel in particular. That Diesel's story is as it is, that's all just happenstance. If there was some gradual change in the wind re: diesel aggression, Diesel himself was not actually a part of it.

Also, it's kinda nice for Diesel to get to say this, because he always has to spin this story for the audience, but Duck is sort of special in that Diesel assumes Duck will take whatever he says in bad faith anyway so it doesn't matter if he actually tells the story as it really happened. But it is very strange that Duck is the one party he's ever been able to tell the story straight to as well.

Ray: Lifts the burden of having to make yourself look good when you know the other party won't buy any of it. It's frank, no bullshit. Which Duck does not associate with Diesel at all.

It's a shame we can't use this because I really want to. Nobody fucking writes Oliver and Duck stuff.

DJ: Well, part of why I think I shouldn't actually go this way is because I think it takes away from Duck and Diesel just coming to an understanding in the contained sense. The overall story isn't actually about them coming to terms, but Sonny learning that not everyone has to be friendly as long as they're getting their work done. And also because functionally, this'd not be as detailed a conversation between them as all this, because they are dumbass trains.

Ray: Yeah, I know. Just mad is all.

DJ: But I told you this so that you could enjoy it, even if others will not.

Ray: I am enjoying it! :D Love our OC Oliver.

DJ: God, Sonny trying to get Diesel a second chance with Duck because he's the Second Chance engine, not realizing Diesel's actually on his fourth. And Diesel not wanting to tell him because this friendship is precarious enough as it is.

Ray: Sonny wouldn't mind. It's his Second Chance with him, which is what's important. Sonny isn't the arbiter of morals, he's only counting what he was here for.

DJ: Yeah, but Diesel doesn't know that. And also if Sonny annoys Duck enough to make him complain, it won't matter what chance he's on with Sonny. At least to Diesel's thinking. And Diesel thinks his place is also precarious.

Ray: lol

DJ: Very funny how Hatt is the villain in all these stories.

Ray: Hatt would be over the fucking moon to hear his engines are trying to work things out between them like fucking adults.

DJ: He'd be very interested and intrigued to hear that Duck and Diesel are doing anything more than avoiding each other. Not that he minds them doing that now, but it'd be interesting to hear otherwise. And if he found out the details of why, that Diesel was trying to keep Sonny out of trouble, he'd be very proud.

Ray: He loves these machines so much in his way.

DJ: I honestly love that when he comes upon the scene with Sonny and Diesel, he fuckin' bullshits them about the fish first.

Ray: It's so… Old Hatt 🥁

DJ: Like, you KNOW he saw Diesel off the tracks, Sonny haulin' him back with the chain. And it's Diesel so you also know some bullshit is a-fkn-foot here. So let's just ask about the fish first and foremost. See what these hooligans have to say for themselves.

But it would just come back around to what he says at the end of the scene. If there's one thing more important than being really Useful, it's taking care of your fellow engines. And here Diesel is, doing it. Even going so far as to try and smooth things over with Duck.

Hatt maybe didn't think he was making a good investment in buying Diesel on the basis of heresay, but he at least thought he was making an interesting one. And look, it's paid off. Even if he's the villain in the fucking story again for reasons he can never fathom. Hasn't scrapped an engine in years, nor ever sent one away and fucking yet. Dumbass trains.

What's also hilarious is Hatt probably thought to hisself "Oh no, not these two together" when he came upon that scene. Because he didn't arrange for Sonny and Diesel to end up hanging out. But it's actually been so good for both of them. Amazing. Even Hatt would never have thought.

Ray: No. I think I said it before that, if given the choice, he'd have liked to have kept them apart. But engines will literally never stop surprising him. It's why he likes them so much.

DJ: Hatt loves engine bullshit.

Ray: "Hobbits really are amazing creatures. You can learn all there is to know about their ways in a month and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you." -Gandalf, but also replace "hobbits" with "engines" and it's Hatt.

DJ: Duck would probably also be a little proud of him despite himself. That's some Great Western activities right there. Oliver fuckin' ribbin' him about it. Imagine you try to teach this tin pot railway your Ways and this fucking guy ends up demonstrating them so astutely. Rood.

Ray: He'd be proud but he'd immediately cover it up with "Well, he didn't know that. Sir Topham Hatt told him because he's very wise and knows Our Ways. Diesel just happened to be doing what was expected of him. Unusual, but nothing to write home about."

DJ: I don't think he'd play it off. Duck's not the sort to not acknowledge when he's wrong or when he's been surprised. But he'd probably not say so much about it, which is why Oliver's poking him about it. More like Oliver's slyly commenting on how GWR this whole thing with Diesel has been, and Duck being like, "Well, I suppose even he could learn after a century."

Ray: "And Sonny, picking it up so quickly!"

DJ: Sonny's a natural. He's a fuckin' gangster too.

[skepticalfrogcat]

WOOOOO new fic! Get ready everyone who wants to see Finch interact with some other people, because this one is all about friendship. No need to read any of my other fics to understand this one, feel free to dive right in!

( @choicesficwriterscreations )

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) & Tyril Starfury (Platonic)

Warnings: Some light swearing and a little violence, but not in an angsty way I SWEAR.

Word Count: 2,537 words

Summary: Finch and Tyril fight with swords, and have a great time doing it.

“And I think that I would not like to be blamed for killing the Savior of Morella.”

~~~

“I'm telling you, I really do think I could do it.”

Finch and Tyril had been debating a particular issue for a few days at that point. It wasn't particularly rare that the two of them would spar; particularly with swords, although occasionally it was hand to hand, and they had used magic once or twice. Finch had always suspected that they both did it for different reasons, though. While Tyril most likely fought with him purely for practice, with the intent to improve both of their skills, that was only part of Finch's motivation. He also just did it for the thrill. It was fun, and he'd never been one to deny himself something exciting.

“You wouldn't kill me, the whole point is that I don't think you'd touch me at all,” Finch pointed out. “I wouldn't even get hurt.”

What he was specifically trying to do, as he had been trying to do for weeks, was make a bet. He'd improved a lot with his sword since he'd first started using it. So much so that he was fairly confident he'd be able to best Tyril in battle - without even being grazed once. That was what he was willing to bet on.

It wasn't so much that he was positive he could do it. He just thought it was possible, and he really wanted to test his own limits. So now, as he and Tyril walked down a cobblestone street in Whitetower, he was once again trying to convince him to take a chance.

“Come on, we do stuff like this all the time,” he lightly backhanded Tyril's shoulder. “I know you think you're all responsible and everything, but I can tell you secretly like making a game out of this shit as much as I do.”

“It is difficult enough for me to adapt to your… unorthodox style of swordsmanship,” Tyril explained. Finch could admit that that was reasonable. Even though he'd been practicing with Tyril, he'd never been classically trained in quite the same way. His style of sword fighting was about as scrappy as his upbringing. “I wouldn't want to risk causing an accident due to your unpredictable behavior.”

“Wow, Starfury, tell me how you really feel.” Finch mimed being stabbed in the heart and pretended to die, his tongue falling out of his mouth. He dropped out of the charade, waving his hand dismissively. “It would be fine. The worst that would happen is I'd get a little knick, and even then, we can just slap a bandage on it.”

Tyril sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright,” he conceded. “Tell me what exactly you're anticipating I do, and I will consider entertaining the idea.”

“Okay, I want you to act like you're trying to kill me.”

Tyril's brow furrowed. “I feel as though you don't understand what my reservations are about this activity.”

“Let me finish, let me finish,” Finch gestured with his hand in Tyril's direction with the intention of getting him to stop talking. “I'm just saying, come at me with all you've got. Not like we're practicing, like it's the real thing. While you do that, I'll both be trying to disarm you, and dodge all of your attacks. If you hit me, or even just touch me with your sword at all, you win. But, if I can successfully get your sword out of your hand in a meaningful way before you can do that, then I win.”

“And what would we be playing for?” Tyril glanced down at Finch, who wasn't as much shorter than him as Mal was, but still didn't stand quite as tall. “I can't imagine either of us have anything we're eager to give up.”

“I was thinking I’d just do it for the bragging rights, and if you win I guess you'd get the honor of having proven me wrong. We could always put money on it if we wanted to, but I know that's not really your thing,” Finch shrugged.

Tyril pondered on it for a moment, clearly deep in thought in a way that made Finch feel like he'd done quite well at selling his points. “And I suppose that, in the event that there was an accident, we are both capable of administering preliminary healing while we move to a safer location.”

“Right,” Finch nodded along, attempting to encourage Tyril.

“I suppose it may not be too dangerous, then. You are quite good at defending yourself, as well.” He thought about it for a few seconds more. “I'll participate,” he decided. “But if you're injured, we will stop immediately to tend to the wounds. And this will be the only time we do this.”

“That's fine, honestly the fact that you agreed to do it at all is enough for me,” Finch grinned. “How about tomorrow? I promised Kade I'd help him organize some new journals that were brought in, and after that I'm probably going out with Imtura and Mal.”

“I will be available at any time tomorrow, yes,” Tyril confirmed. “Simply come and find me when you're ready to be beaten.”

“You've learned a lot about trash talk lately,” Finch laughed, bumping his shoulder against Tyril's. “Could still stand to get a little better though. Maybe ask Mal, I'm sure even just hearing that question would make him give you a few examples.”

“And I am sure they would be helpful, even indirectly.”

“Great optimism.” Finch gave Tyril one last firm clap on the shoulder as they passed through the palace gates and began parting ways, Finch on his way to the library and Tyril heading towards the main doors. “Keep that mood for tomorrow!” he called after him. “You're going to need it!”

Tyril shook his head with what may have seemed like disapproval to an untrained eye, but Finch could still see the unmistakable smile on his face, no matter how small it was. Finch turned away from him then, trying to focus on his new task. He'd have to find some time to come up with a strategy for the fight; maybe he'd talk to Imtura or Mal about it. They'd have a laugh about the whole thing, he was sure. They'd probably enjoy it as much as Finch knew he himself would.

~~~

The next day, Finch and Tyril met in a dirt arena with bright white brick walls within the boundaries of the castle, where some members of the royal army occasionally trained. Tyril had only brought one of his two swords, and was dressed in the set of armor he wore with as much frequency as if it were casual wear. Finch, despite owning multiple full sets of magically enhanced armor, had opted for a simple set of leather armor. Contrasting that, though, his weapon of choice was the Blade of Sol. Not necessarily to show off, although it wouldn't have been uncharacteristic, but because he knew that it was the only sword he had that would be able to put up a good fight against Tyril's. The other ones would probably be too flimsy, and it wouldn't be a fair fight if his sword snapped in half.

“You don't seem… particularly well protected,” Tyril noted from across the small battlefield.

“Yeah, I figured it'd be a lot harder to make this a fair game if there isn't any solid way to prove you've hit me,” Finch explained.

“Would I not be able to feel it if my sword came into contact with metal armor?”

“It's more fun this way,” Finch dismissed him. “You're lucky I didn't choose not to wear armor at all, if anything I did this to appease you.” He adjusted the leather pauldron on his shoulder. There were certainly many parts of his arms and legs that had been left exposed, as well as spots on his sides, but he wasn't concerned. “Mal and Imtura have money on this, by the way. I told them what we were doing. I don't know which one of them got to bet on me, but whoever it was is about to get a little richer.”

“You have become much more confident since I first met you,” Tyril chuckled, unsheathing one of his swords.

“Oh, I was always this confident,” Finch countered. He took hold of his own sword, giving it a mildly unnecessary flourish and spinning the heavy blade in an arc in his hand. “I just have the skills to back it up now.”

“Alright, then let's begin.”

Without any more warning, Tyril slashed out with his sword. Finch was only able to dodge it on pure instinct, dropping low enough to the ground that the attack went over his head. Unfortunately, this also put him in a vulnerable position. He had quick reflexes, but they weren't always smart ones. Tyril swung his sword down at him, and he just barely avoided it by rolling out of the way. He got up again as quickly as he could.

They circled each other for a brief moment. Then Tyril lunged again. Finch used his own weapon to knock the attack off course. Still, the motion of it continued and they collided. Finch took a few steps back to regain his balance. By the time Tyril was firmly standing again, Finch was behind him. Quick reflexes did pay off sometimes. He planted his hand on Tyril's back and pushed him over. Before he had time to register it, though, he was falling too. Tyril had turned around to grab his wrist as he fell, and now they were both on the ground.

“You're fighting dirty, Starfury,” Finch laughed as he stood.

“I've learned it from you,” Tyril reminded him as he too got back up.

He didn't waste any more time before attacking again, jabbing his sword out towards Finch. Ironically, Finch did utilize a similar move. He dodged to the side as the attack got close, then took hold of Tyril's arm and used his momentum to send the tip of his blade directly into the ground. Finch then used the bit of time that bought him to get further away. Honestly, he was pretty proud of that.

Still, it didn't take long for Tyril to recover. Finch had known that wouldn't count as disarming him; it had mostly been to delay his next attack. He held his weapon more securely in both hands. He watched closely as Tyril pulled his sword from the dirt. Then, in the space of a blink, Tyril was running towards him again. In a flash, Finch raised his sword, and metal clashed against metal as he blocked Tyril's attack.

Tyril swung his sword around in an attempt to hit him from the side. Finch jumped backwards, and he heard the whoosh of the blade through the air as it missed him by a fraction of an inch. Within seconds, Tyril unleashed a barrage of blows, which Finch struggled to deflect. It was almost as if he had to have his blade in two places at once in order to properly defend himself.

As Tyril's sword came in for another attempted hit, Finch took a leap of faith. He didn't block with his own weapon, or dodge backwards as he normally might; instead he avoided the attack by ducking beneath the blade, which incidentally placed him closer to Tyril. Now in the space between Tyril's body and his sword, he grabbed Tyril's wrist and in a fraction of a second he'd slid his hand over Tyril's and used all of the force he had to yank the blade from his grip and fling it across the arena. He didn't grab it, he simply let it go recklessly flying as far as he could get it to go.

Finch could tell Tyril was diving for it immediately with the way he pushed past him. Now it was up to reaction time. Or… maybe it wasn't. What Finch did next was more instinct than anything, his body going non-corporeal before he could even really think about it much. In as much time as it would've taken to blink, Finch had phased out of existence and then directly back into it, right beside where Tyril's fallen sword laid on the ground. His hand shot out, and he grabbed it.

Tyril stopped in his tracks. “You've gotten it,” he noted, breathing heavily. There was a look of bewilderment on his face “You've truly done it.”

It took another moment for Finch's accomplishment to catch up to him. In one hand, he held his own sword. In the other hand, he now had Tyril's. And he hadn't been hit. A quiet, shocked laugh came from him. Then he crowed triumphantly, raising both swords over his head. “Ha! I told you I could!” he gloated, pointing over at Tyril with one of the blades. “I'm not overconfident, I'm proportionately confident.”

“Yes, yes, I understand that now,” Tyril chuckled, smoothing his hair back. “But perhaps next time, we should ban the use of your Realmwalking. That would be a true challenge.”

Finch's brows shot up. “Next time?” he sheathed his own sword, and offered Tyril's back to him. “Whatever happened to “this will be the only time”, hm?” he joked, using his free hand to lightly push Tyril's shoulder.

“It was… more entertaining than I anticipated it to be,” Tyril admitted.

“I had a feeling it would be,” Finch shot him a wink. “It's good training, too. Really valuable. We can keep raising the stakes, and it'll keep making us both better,” he shrugged as they started back towards the castle.

“Classical training is equally valuable, though,” Tyril reminded him.

“I know, you've made sure I know,” Finch laughed, bumping their shoulders together. “Now, what do you say we go find Imtura and tell her Mal owes her some money?”

“You mean to say Mal placed his wager on me?”

“Well, he does believe in you, but we both know he also makes a lot of his decisions based on what the funniest choice is in the moment. And at the time, the three of us were all a few drinks deep, and I was the one around to be offended when he didn't bet on me.”

“That is an excellent point,” Tyril nodded. “I suppose this will be an educational opportunity for him, then.”

“It better be, or else he's going to be losing a lot more money when we do this again,” Finch agreed.

Overall, Finch found that it had been a very successful day. Not only had he convinced Tyril to have some fun, but he also felt like he'd learned a lot. He'd have to train with Tyril more often; he could tell that it benefitted both of them. Besides, he just enjoyed spending time with his friend. There was probably nothing that made him happier than being with the people he loved, even if they were actively pretending to kill each other. He had a feeling that no matter how long he knew his friends, he wouldn't ever get tired of them. It would simply never happen.

[grawlix-ness]

The Not-So Big Sleet and Dingo Interpersonal Relationship HC Post

🦔 Hedgehog Triplets 🎸

Sonia is one of the few people Dingo actually respects. She’s by far his favorite of the hedgehog trio. Not in the creepy way the source material thought was funny. In a “finally a worthy opponent” way. Her acrobatics keep him guessing, and for someone so small she can throw a mean left hook. Sonia pities Dingo. She thinks deep down there’s some good in him, that Sleet’s a bad influence and a controlling, manipulative force. In reality of course, Dingo was always that way. Sleet doesn’t give Sonia much thought beyond “she’s the girl hedgehog”. Her voice irritates him. His voice irritates her.

Sleet sees parts of his child self within Manic. In another life, they could maybe be friends. That’s a big maybe. In any case, Sleet finds his scrappy, sticky-fingered nature mildly endearing on good days. Dingo isn’t so keen, largely because he can never get a rise out of him. Manic’s too chill. Eerily chill to Dingo. Manic likes to play mind games with both of them.

Sleet and Dingo both hate Sonic. Dingo a little less so because he thinks his jokes can be funny sometimes. But in general they want that good-for-nothing cerulean gopher gone. He’s the cause of all of their problems. If Sonic hadn’t taken down Robotnik’s factory, they wouldn’t be stuck with this lousy job. If Sonic hadn’t reunited with his siblings, the Freedom Fighters wouldn’t have been emboldened. Sonic loves kicking their butts. He finds Sleet and Dingo’s dynamic endlessly entertaining. Like Manic, he toys with them.

🤖 Doctor Robotnik 🍳

Intially, Sleet thought Robotnik was somewhat admirable. A self-made man with unfathomable cunning and intellect. So while Sleet certainly didn’t idolize him—Sleet only idolizes himself—Robotnik’s talents invited a golf clap at least. Suffice to say, things have changed. Sleet wants nothing more than to put a hole in Robotnik’s chest. The feeling is mutual. Robotnik would get rid of him. He could get rid of him and Dingo at any point in time. Alas, Sleet and Dingo are the cheapest bounty hunters a penny-pinching tyrant can buy, and they do usually pull through in matters that don’t involve those meddling hedgehogs. He’s got what he paid for: C-tier mercenaries that provide a laugh every now and then with their naivety and woeful ineptitude. Dingo doesn’t care much for Robotnik either, but the cool weapons make it worth it. After embracing the Eggman name, Robotnik becomes even more unhinged, and Dingo, as someone who lives for chaos, prefers him that way. Sleet, on the other hand, is scared shitless.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of When the Duke Loved Me by Lydia Lloyd

Summary:

Catherine Forster was ruined by John Breminster, Duke of Edington a decade ago, and thanks to the enmity between their families, he refused to marry her. Now, a decade later, Catherine is a penniless spinster, and John is on her doorstep, asking for her for her help with a sensitive matter that concerns the scandal that occurred between their families years ago...

My review:

This is Lydia Lloyd's debut novel, and I thought she did a great job of writing main characters who were individually sympathetic and dynamic together, as well as an overarching mystery plot that kept me on my toes the entire time.

A lot of the plot is centered around the enmity between the Breminsters and the Forsters. About a decade before the prologue starts, John's father Reginald and Catherine's Aunt Mary (who raised her) were caught in flagrante and the fallout meant financial and reputational ruin for Catherine and her family, as well as John's family being torn apart. Now, John's father is dead and he's left behind an annuity that Mary must accept, or it will spell social ruin for John's sister. The problem is, Mary's disappeared and John is convinced Catherine can help him find her.

Catherine is a heroine who's reduced to some pretty dire circumstances (girlie literally has the residents of her household faking the plague to avoid debt collectors), so she's scrappy and realistic enough to go along with John's scheme without much fuss. John is presented as something of a feckless rake (with rake friends who I hope get their own stories), but we see the hidden, more caring side to him soon enough.

What's interesting is, between the ruination from a decade prior, as well as John initially casting aspersions on Catherine's morality ("a spinster can't kiss as well as YOU did"), you would think they have an uphill battle to even tolerate one another, but they didn't. I thought it was refreshing that despite everything, they don't bother to deny their mutual attraction right from the get-go. They grow to care for one another along the way (this is definitely a case of sex helping their relationship grow, and sex is their form of communication), and it's fairly smooth sailing all things considered. Really, the greater conflict(s) are how they individually grapple with the complicated relationships between them and their respective parental figures.

This relative lack of tension until the end also makes the climax more poignant, when Catherine is faced with the choice to break off their engagement and leave, or be forced to keep secrets from John, which she can't bring herself to do because of how much she loves and cares for him.

The mysterious relationship between Reginald and Mary serves as a compelling backdrop. For one, there are a lot of parallels between them and John/Catherine (like I think John tries to fuck Catherine on the same desk he caught them on when he was younger lol). They ultimately served as a warning for the main couple for how not to proceed with their relationship.

The sex:

The overall sex vibes in this book can probably be best described as "down and ready any time, anywhere". Delving into the specific, I'm shameless enough to say I'm all for an instant gratification moment and Lydia delivered with the beginning "ruination" scene... set in the middle of ruins at that. And the ramifications even a decade later are pretty damn hilarious: At some point John admits to Catherine that he couldn't get off unless he was thinking about her to which my reactions in order were a) GASP b) *cackles* c) wait.... this is actually romantic?

There's also a great dry-humping scene pretty early on which honestly might have been hotter than the actual sex? It starts with him telling her he wants to suck ink off her fingers, and ends with him high-tailing out of there with a Boner of Shame and Guilt (we love a selfless man) so I was 100% entertained the whole time.

Overall:

If you enjoy a your historical romances with a side of mystery, then this is the book for you. I loved the easy chemistry between the main couple and how they slowly unraveled the truth of the past. This is a fantastic debut for Lydia Lloyd, and I look forward to future books in this series.

Thank you to Tule Publishing and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my review.