#i also didn't go into the characterization bit of this but

[jadeazora]

All of this. There's also eschewing Platinum's fixes to characterization (especially when it came to Cyrus. Fortunately, Masters exists but why should it be the responsibility of a niche mobile game to save the characters?) and pacing too.

It makes some improvements to gameplay, but as Mikey mentioned, it's really inconsistent in how it does things like the Dex and difficulty (easy before absolutely sucker-punching you at the League), and that what it does add are just QoL updates found in pretty much every modern Pokemon game. It also just wasn't what I was hoping for in a DP remake, I was really hoping for an updated story and redesigns. ORAS was my gold standard for how they improved on characterization, and we've gotten character redesigns in every other remake. Maybe they didn't want to change designs because of Masters or whatever, but it just felt lazy.

Imo, it's really the only remake that's worse than the original third version: FRLG is dated now, but was mechanically better than any G1 game and had Sevii. I was never fond of the GO features in LGPE, but it still felt unique enough with the changes they made, plus it's the most beautiful Switch Pokemon game. HGSS added a fair amount of new features, a battle Frontier, and improved characterization for Silver. ORAS feels at least like it stands on par with Emerald, improves the Dex, really fleshes out the characters and story more, added Soaring, it felt like a pretty fair trade-off for what we lost. Still a bit salty no Battle Frontier when I was dabbling in competitive, but it's not a deal-breaker. With BDSP, the QoL changes, Legendary hunting, etc. are expected by now, so that mostly leaves story, which was pretty much untouched from the original DP. There's cool things like the expanded Underground and the Shadow Giratina battle, but it's not just enough to really salvage it in comparison to Platinum.

It was possibly even more glitchy than Scarlet and Violet were upon release, which was a big complaint for people at the time (tho people did abuse the glitchiness in a lot of funny ways or to speedrun the game).

It was the only Pokemon game I never actually bothered to finish, like, I think I only ever got up to the fifth badge. I just literally couldn't find enough to really enjoy or be invested in when Platinum exists and does the things I actually was interested about in DP better. Tho tbf, with it getting outsourced, it was clear it was never the main focus, and according to the Teraleak, was only pushed out in case PLA turned out to be unpopular with fans.

[aihoshiino]

I know I'm swinging a bat into a hornet's nest, but ever since the end of OnK I've been thinking about why Akane is so popular yet so disappointing as a character.

Akane was really interesting and I enjoyed her being her own character, but after the stage play arc she just becomes an Aqua simp. All her motivations become centered around him to the point of wanting to ruin her life for a boy. She becomes a "submissive Japanese wife" that so many people are obsessed about, completely ignoring that her and Aqua's dynamic would be horrible for both of them. They enable each other's self-destructive tendencies, trying to go to hell instead of climbing out of it.

I hate what they did with Akane at the end. She becomes nothing more than a plot device, and to have her narrate the ending which overshadows every other character (especially Ruby, she deserved so much more) is such a bad move. Justice for Akane, she's a much better character than an exposition mouthpiece for the reader's sake. We don't even get to see her actually analyze any information (aside from researching Ai at the start), she just suddenly has all the answers even in moments where it has almost nothing to do with her. I'm so annoyed at how Akane-centric the ending is, truly putting her characterization into the ground alongside Aqua.

I think the issue re: Akane is that Akasaka kind of accidentally wrote himself into a corner by making her SO smart and capable that if she was allowed to actually contribute to the story then she would end up solving most conflicts before they actually played out on the page lol

Like, to be totally fair, there was always going to be an element of Akane orbiting Aqua because she's very specifically a character not involved in Ruby's half of the plot and with zero interest in B-Komachi. So it makes sense for her to take a bit of a backseat when we switch focus to it but Tokyo Blade going into the Private arc is really good example of how she can still be a present and engaging character even without directly contributing just by letting her... you know, engage and be present with the rest of the cast! But starting with Mainstay, Akane has basically zero meaningful interactions with anyone who isn't Aqua and most of what she does on-page also revolves around him and their relationship. I'm not even really sure why this is because there are certainly places she could've at least been inserted to flesh out her relationships with the wider cast but my best guess is that this would have interrupted or complicated what Akasaka wanted to do so he didn't include her. And Don't Even Get Me Started On The Movie Arc.

There's more issues with how Akasaka uses her as a character but u/uvauva2 on the OnK subreddit did a really good and concise breakdown of them and I'd basically just be recapping their points if I carried on, so I recommend reading it.

It sucks because I've really come around on Akane and I think she's super compelling up through to the end of the Private arc. But past that, it feels like Akasaka had no idea what to do with her as a character so he turned to using her as a blunt force tool of convenience to paper over sections of the plot. She ends up kind of reduced to a mouthpiece for Akasaka to do exposition with and... Yeah, it sucks! Akane was a character with a lot of really interesting potential but it just feels like Akasaka lost interest in fitting her into the story at some point.

[ineed-to-sleep]

Blacked out in front of my tablet and woke up with sketches of my Touchstarved mc + Kuras my beloved. woops

[lloydfrontera]

i just saw someone saying very confidently they read enough of a manhwa to give it an in-depth review,,, because they're already at chapter 42. like. girl. these things are adapted from novels with up to 400-600 chapters. you barely even started it at all.

[fictionadventurer]

Beauty and the Beast for the WIP game?

My only real attempt at writing poetry before this year happened during a stretch when I tried to write a Beauty and the Beast retelling in verse. I got about two-thirds of the way through before it fizzled out and languished forever unfinished.

When it comes to my recent novel-in-verse obsession, the simplest option would be to take another look at this work and try to finish it. There's a lot of terrible poetry in there, but there are some that are somewhat better than I remember. I can't claim to be a judge of what's good poetry, but some of these are readable, so I'll share some of them here.

The first set of semi-readable poems covers the first meetings between Beauty and the Beast. (These are all numbered, and I'm leaving the numbers in place to better differentiate between separate poems. I think the speaker in most of these is fairly clear from context, but just in case, I'll put the speaker's name in the title, too.)

VI. beauty and beast

he is every nightmare i’ve ever forgotten he is thunder and darkness and death he is fear with fangs he is beastly

she is every dream i’ve never dared for she is roses and sunlight and life she is hope with jewels she is beauty

*

VIII. beauty

the chair creaks when he sits

my knees quake when he speaks

the master laughs when i ask

when i will die

my ears doubt when i hear

my mind reels when i realize

the master wonders when i began

to think he’d kill me

IX. beast

the rules are these you are mistress of this castle the servants will obey your every whim the rooms and all within are yours including me

you will dine with me at dusk we will not speak if you want silence you will look at me and try not to scream

i will not harm a hair of your head i will not cause a moment’s worry you will do whatever you wish except leave

X. beauty

his mercy shatters my world makes it bigger and at the same time smaller

how can i live in a monster’s cage

my life will be long and lonely with him my friend and at the same time jailer

how can i look at a monster’s face

the castle teems with wonders that all belong to him and at the same time me

what do i do with a monster’s love

*

The next set of poems I feel like sharing starts with Beauty finding a portrait in the castle, and then leads into her sharing a dance with Beast that makes her kind of freak out over the fact that she might be falling in love.

XXII. beast

today you found a painting in a long-forgotten room covered in cobwebs and shrouded in dust

there was a reason it was lost

the portrait showed a man with a face like the dawn and eyes like the sea you thought he looked kind

he was young and a fool

you may keep it if you wish or lock it back in darkness it matters not to me i used to see him daily

i doubt i’ll see his face again

*

XXIV. beauty (and beast)

if rooms have souls the ballroom is wise a radiant beauty long past her prime

she treasures the days when she lived and was loved she keeps them and counts them like pearls on a string

(she is not the only one, my dear)

long past midnight in moonlight and hush this sleepwalking girl can glimpse former days

a flash of a gown and a whisper of waltz what glorious balls must this room have beheld

(they were marvelous indeed, my friend)

it seems a shame she grows old alone with nothing but darkness and dust held within

i would dance for her return the spark of life if only we had music and i had a partner

(i will gladly dance with you, my love)

XXV. beast

my dear beauty don’t you know i learned dancing long ago

one step closer take my hand with a waltz you’ll understand

let the music guide your feet in a dance that’s slow and sweet

hand in hand and heart to heart it’s not love but it’s a start

XXVI. beauty

he is hulking beastly

i am small delicate

i should be stumbling crushed

but

we marvelously miraculously dance

and it feels like flying

XXVII. beauty (to the portrait)

man on the wall i may be mad but i must give voice to the storm in my heart and you are the only one near

the master puzzles me i know his home as well as my own but i know so little about him

(is he beast or man or nightmare or dream or captor or friend)

i saw his face and thought him a beast

(but he grows roses and reads poems and has never killed or even raised his voice)

i heard his voice and thought him a monster

(but he spared my life gave me his home and all he owned offered his heart and never once has been anything but gentle)

i watched him dance and thought him a man

(with grace like an angel or a prince and i think that maybe he was not always so lonely and that his heart aches for things lost)

what am i to think do say be feel about him now

and why do these questions always come at midnight

*

The final poem is one that I had completely forgotten about, so I was shocked to find it lurking in the latter sections of the document and showing signs of using some decent imagery. By polishing up the last couple of lines, I've got something that's not half bad as a standalone poem.

This one occurs during an extended period when Beauty is still trying to process her feelings toward Beast and figure out if this is really love or if her feelings are being warped by isolation and close proximity.

XXX. beauty

if this is love it is a dark and grasping love a child stumbling in the night crying for a candle flame and cherishing the smallest spark of light

if this is love it is a bleak and desolate love a skeleton tree in a barren desert windbeaten and scrubbed to bone and bursting into bloom at the first drop of rain

if this is love it is a smoke and mirrors love a sleight of hand or trick of light that takes my broken heart and fools me into thinking he can make it whole

[razzle-zazzle]

6561 Words; Between AU, TBT, JD's arrival

AO3 ver

“All right, Rhonda, we’re here.”

John Dory stepped away from the wheel as his armadillo-bus and main companion came to a stop at the edge of what he really hoped was the main settlement of the Pop Trolls. With a grunt, John Dory opened the door and hopped out, giving Rhonda’s side a small pat before heading towards where the pods were thickest.

It had taken him weeks to properly track this place down, and even longer to actually work up the courage to visit. If it wasn’t for Floyd’s letter, John Dory probably would have kept traveling for years, only ever thinking about Pop Village—or was it Trollstopia?—as a place on his map he could visit someday.

But now John Dory was here on a mission. He had a brother to save, and to do that, he’d need to track down all the rest of his brothers. Might as well start with the easiest—all he had from Spruce were unmarked postcards, he’d heard nothing from Clay at all, and Floyd was the brother in need of rescuing. Which left Bitty B, who up until a few months ago John Dory had been pretty sure was dead—but now wasn’t the time to think about that. John Dory had a baby brother to find.

As he made his way past pods and Trolls, tail nervously lashing behind him, John Dory took in the sights and sounds of a place that was all too familiar and all too alien all at once. It brought him back to his days in the tree, even though the community here was much more spread out. And it wasn’t just pods—John Dory could see all kinds of Trolls walking about, could see Country housing and Funk spaceships and even lights coming from within the larger bodies of water scattered about. And ooo, there were even Rock and Classical! Not exactly John Dory’s style, as a Pop Troll through and through, but it wasn’t as unsettling to see as John Dory had feared.

John Dory came to a stop before a large mushroom serving as a central pavilion, looking around. How in the world was he going to find Bitty B from here? He supposed he could ask around, use his natural charms to get the answers he needed, but… there were so many Trolls, all around, so much color and life and music going on that John Dory wanted to retreat back to the calm of Rhonda.

John Dory shook his head, dispelling his anxieties. What was he thinking? He had this in the bag! He used to be the leader of Brozone, of course he could handle a crowd.

With a laugh, John Dory launched himself up onto the mushroom, opening his mouth to start calling out for his brother—

“Oh, you’re new!” Pink filled his vision, darting in and out of his line of sight as an excited blur circled around and looked him over. “I’ve never seen you before, which is weird because I thought I knew everybody who lived here! Which means you must be new which means we haven’t gotten to know each other yet which means we get to get to know each other and become friends if you’re okay with that and oh my hair I forgot to ask your name!” None of the words were registering, coming out so fast that they all blurred together into an aural sludge that went right in one ear and out the other.

John Dory reflexively stepped back from the deluge of sheer energy coming off of what resolved itself to be a Troll, bright pink and bouncing excitedly. Her tail was whipping back and forth with a frenetic energy as she bounced in place, holding out her paw.

“I’m Poppy!” Poppy introduced herself. “And you are?” There was something so bright in her eyes, an energy that John Dory could only remember seeing in the happiest of Pop Trolls. Wow, he really had been on his own for a while, hadn’t he?

John Dory held out his paw to return the pawshake, but the moment he opened his mouth Poppy squealed again as recognition hit her, her eyes alight with vicious glee.

“Oh! My! HAIR! You’re from—you’re from BROZONE!” Poppy squealed again, clasping her paws together in excitement. “Oooo, but which one?” She pondered, leaning in to examine John Dory more closely. “No, don’t tell me! I wanna guess!” She hummed contemplatively, walking a slow circle around John Dory.

“You’re not the Heartthrob,” Poppy commented, the words hitting harder than John Dory was expecting. He could be a heartthrob! “The Fun Boy? No, you seem kinda uptight…”

“Weird thing to say about someone you just met,” John Dory commented, but Poppy continued to theorize.

“Definitely not the Sensitive One…” Poppy’s face lit up, “Oh, I know!” She cheered, certainty in her voice. “You’re John Dory!”

John Dory nodded. “The Leader—”

“The Old One!” Poppy finished, hopping up and down in place. Her paws were clasped together in excitement. “So what brings you to Trollstopia?”

John Dory’s tail was flat against the floor. Sure, he was in his forties, but barely! He wasn’t old! He still had so many decades left in him! He was in his prime!

“I’m here to find my brothers.” He said. “It’s…” Did he want to confide in Poppy about Floyd’s imprisonment? She certainly felt trustworthy, but this was more of a family issue.

“You brothers… the rest of Brozone?!” Poppy lit up, grabbing John Dory’s paw in her own to drag him from the mushroom pavilion. “Well, you’re asking the right Troll! I know everyone here!” She ran along, leaving John Dory little choice but to be dragged in her wake.

“Wait.” She came to an abrupt halt, “I don’t…” Her demeanor turned sheepish as she turned back to John Dory. “I don’t know anyone by the names of Spruce, Clay, Floyd, or Bitty B.” She admitted.

Well, that was a bust. John Dory shrugged. “‘S okay.” He nodded, stretching his arms up above his head. “I already know that Spruce isn’t here, and I know where Floyd is.” Something about Poppy’s words hit him, and he frowned. “You said Bitty B.” He pointed out. “But… would you happen to know a Troll who goes by Branch?” They had never used Bitty B’s full name in promotional material—he was just a baby, after all. It was safer that way.

“Branch…” Poppy’s face lit up with recognition. “I do!” She leapt up, “He never told me he had other brothers!” She gasped, “HE NEVER TOLD ME HE WAS IN BROZONE! Ohhh, I can’t believe this!” She ran in a tiny circle, tail waving wildly as she gestured with her paws.

“So you know where I can find him?” Oh, thank Troll. Now all John Dory needed was to find Bitty B’s pod, say hello to Grandma, and then they’d set out to find the rest. Easy.

Poppy nodded. “Yep!” She grabbed John Dory’s paw again. “It’s a few days’ travel by critterbug, though. Or just one day if I can get a caterbus…” Her tail flicked as she considered the options. John Dory swore he even heard her mutter about wormholes at one point.

“That’s… far.” John Dory frowned. He thought Bitty B would be living with the rest of the Pop Trolls, here in Trollstopia, not… wherever he was.

“I know the way, though.” Poppy assured him. “Just give me a little bit to get some things in order, and I can get you there!” Her tail curled behind her as she turned—

John Dory grabbed Poppy’s tail just below the hair. She froze, and he hurriedly let go. “No, wait, you said a few days by critterbug, right?” He laced his hands together and stretched his arms out in front of him, tail stretching behind him. “Rhonda could probably cover the same distance in an hour or two, tops.” Really, all he needed was the destination. He appreciated Poppy’s offer to come with, but, well—it was a family matter.

But Poppy kept following along as John Dory made his way back to his armadillo-bus. “Rhonda? Who’s that?”

John Dory picked up the pace. Poppy kept up easily.

“She must be really fast…” Poppy was theorizing, tapping her chin as she skipped along. “Oh! I bet she’s a bird, right? Birds can cover big distances fast!”

John Dory chuckled as he came to a stop. “Not quite.” He gestured to the armadillo-bus in question, patiently waiting in the underbrush. His most trusted companion, means of getting around, and beloved home: Rhonda.

Poppy squealed, bouncing over to Rhonda in excited delight. Her enthusiasm was infectious; John Dory couldn’t help the chuckle building in his throat as Rhonda greeted Poppy back with similar enthusiasm.

“Whoa!” John Dory called out, as Poppy made her way over to Rhonda’s door. “I appreciate the help, but you don’t need to come with.” It was a family matter, after all—

“Eh, I’ve been meaning to visit Branch again soon.” Poppy waved off. She paused. “But if you really don’t want me coming with—”

John Dory shrugged, and hopped up into Rhonda. “If you really want to.” He had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop Poppy, if she really put her mind to accompanying him. He’d only known her for half an hour at most, and she was already rocketing up his regard through her sheer energy and excitement. So John Dory shrugged, happy to have some company for once.

“Alright, Popster.” He sat down in the driver’s seat as Rhonda started to move, “Get me to Branch.”

+=+=+=+=+

Poppy’s enthusiasm, John Dory was finding, was infectious. Maybe it was the Pop Troll in him, maybe Poppy really did have so much energy that she couldn’t help spreading it everywhere—either way, John Dory couldn’t resist the amusement starting to dance in his chest as she took the wheel, going on and on about the adventures she had had with Branch. She had mostly focused on the Rockpocalypse, as that was where most of John Dory’s questions focused on—but even then she had a lot to say.

John Dory wondered how Poppy and Bitty B knew each other. They must be childhood friends, he figured, with how well they worked together in Poppy’s retelling. Maybe they were even closer—would John Dory find himself with a little sister in Poppy, someday? He sure hoped so—Poppy was a delight.

“So why’re you looking for Branch, anyway?” Poppy asked, as Rhonda made her way from the underbrush to a dirt path.

“Well, I’m looking for all my brothers,” John Dory began. “Because Floyd is in trouble.” He didn’t know if he should say more—he’d rather be telling all of this to Bitty B, if only so he wouldn’t have to tell the story more than needed.

“So you’re getting the band back together to rescue him?” Poppy asked, paw pressed to her face. “Aww, that’s so sweet! And exciting!” She smiled, big and bright. “I know I’m not really family, but if you need any help then you can count on me!”

John Dory chuckled. “Just helping me find Branch is more than enough.” He really wanted to show her the baby pictures—but Poppy was busy driving, directing Rhonda in following the trail as it shifted from dirt to cobbled stones. Rhonda jolted slightly at the terrain shift, but quickly adapted, following Poppy’s driving even as the surrounding forest thinned out to a yellowed field.

John Dory looked out the windshield, watching as the field gave way to an imposing metal fence, far too large to have been made by Trolls. There was something familiar about the looming structures, some distinct feeling of foreboding beginning to curdle in John Dory’s gut.

At once, recognition hit John Dory like a bucket of ice. “This is—this is Bergentown.” He nearly growled, his knuckles paling as he gripped the back of the seat. He leaned forwards to correct the course, or to demand to know what was going on—

“Yeah.” Poppy agreed, her voice firm and quiet. It was such a change from her sugary energy that John Dory hesitated, and she turned to him, expression gentle. “I guess I should have thought about how scary that’d be…” She shook her head. “But we made peace with the Bergens more than a year ago. And I promised I’d get you to Branch.” She urged Rhonda forwards, the armadillo-bus weaving around the streets under her direction. “I just need you to trust me for a little bit longer, okay?”

“I…” John Dory looked out the windshield, fighting down the urge to haul the young Troll from the driver’s seat and turn Rhonda around. He could see Bergens out and about on the streets, looking content—no, happy. That… John Dory’s intuition really didn’t like that. The last time he’d been here, it had been to find the tree withered and empty and the few Bergens he could spot looking absolutely miserable. It didn’t matter what Poppy said—if Bergens were walking around with uplifted spirits, then Trolls were clearly back on the menu.

But Poppy pulled Rhonda up to the central plaza with nary a care in the world, and none of the Bergens harassed or otherwise waylaid the armadillo-bus as she picked her way through the town. As Rhonda came to a halt in the grass, John Dory finally took in the state of what had been his home for the first twenty years of his life.

The cage was gone, and the tree looked even more colorful than John Dory remembered it. He could still see blackened bits on the trunk and branches, and some of the pods were as dull as last he’d seen them, but—

There were Trolls happily going about their business. As Poppy slipped out the side door, John Dory watched as the nearby Trolls noticed her, and started to rush over.

Slowly, goggles firmly over his eyes, John Dory exited Rhonda, keeping his back to her side as he shuffled as far away from the safety she represented as he dared. He could make out the conversation going on towards the base of the tree, and that was enough—if things got ugly, he could probably snag Poppy with his hair from here.

“Well, Branch did make his usual rounds this morning.” A green Troll with pink hair was saying, Poppy listening with rapt attention. “But he left a while ago.” They shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Oh, no problems!” Poppy waved off. “Thanks for the help!” She bounced back over to John Dory and Rhonda, a pep in her step despite the fact that they were still in Bergentown. She slowed down as she came close, holding her paw to her face contemplatively.

“Hmmm, where would Branch be at this time of day? He’s got a pretty set schedule, but with his brother’s wedding coming up…” Her voice dissolved off into mutterings, but John Dory’s brain snagged on the words “brother” and “wedding” and everything after that failed to register.

“Wedding?” He grabbed Poppy by the shoulders. “Clay’s here, too?” He couldn’t possibly imagine Clay of all people getting married—but when he knew that Spruce was elsewhere and Floyd was being held captive, there was only one brother left.

Poppy’s face scrunched in confusion. “...Clay?” Her voice was void of any recognition, then she snapped her fingers. “Oh, right, you mean Brozone Clay!” She shook her head, already skipping off to Rhonda. “No, it’s not him—before you showed up, I didn’t even know that Branch had older brothers!”

John Dory followed Poppy back into Rhonda, his head spinning. “But you said brother?” He pushed his goggles back up, forehead creasing as he tried to work out what the hair Poppy meant.

“His younger brother, duh!” Poppy waved off, already directing Rhonda away from the tree. She said it so casually, like it wasn’t the most out-of-pocket statement John Dory had ever heard. And he was quickly approaching forty-three—he’d heard a lot of insane shit.

“Younger—” John Dory was right up next to the wheel, now, not even caring that Poppy was directing Rhonda down streets alongside Bergens like it was nothing. “Explain?” Mom and Dad were both out of the picture before Branch’s egg even hatched—how in the name of all that was Trolly would Branch ever have a younger brother? It made no sense.

“Well, Gristle and Branch are adoptive brothers,” Poppy clarified, “But that still counts! They pretty much grew up together, from what I know.” She brought Rhonda to a stop, completely oblivious to the fact that she had just brought John Dory’s world to a screeching halt. It hit John Dory like a sack of bricks, how long he had really been gone—Bitty B had found himself a family. Branch had found himself a family, and John Dory had no idea.

With a start, John Dory realized that Poppy had already exited Rhonda, the door flipping shut behind her and leaving him all alone. And while he certainly felt safe inside his dearest companion, John Dory didn’t fancy letting sweet young Poppy walk around Bergentown alone.

Yeah, that was it. That he was barrelling out of Rhonda to catch up with Poppy was purely over concerns about her safety, and not at all because he felt unsafe. Not at all.

Poppy had parked Rhonda near a nondescript… boutique? And had already slipped in through a Troll-sized cutout in the door proper. With a deep breath, John Dory pushed his goggles back down over his eyes, and followed.

Inside, he looked around—there! Poppy had made her way up onto a clothing rack, walking along a strip of metal wide enough for three Trolls. She was face to face with—John Dory stopped in his tracks, deciding to come up to the top of the rack through the clothes. He did not fancy being the subject of a Bergen’s attention! As he slowly made his way up, he caught the conversation Poppy was having with—with the Bergen—

Ohhhhh, John Dory did not like this, nor what it might imply about his baby brother.

“The wedding’s not for four more days.” The Bergen commented, as John Dory finally hauled himself up onto one of the clothing hangers. “Did Bridget need help with some last-minute planning?”

Okay, John Dory was officially lost. Just what had happened in the time he’d been gone? It had only been twelve years since he last came to Bergentown!

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” Poppy waved off. “I just wanted to visit Branch, that’s all.” Her tail flirted back and forth as she spoke, not an ounce of fear in her body despite how close she was to the Bergen’s massive teeth. John Dory only found himself growing more concerned about the safety of his people—was Poppy simply insane?

The Bergen chuckled, a low rumble that had John Dory discovering he could tense up even further. “I see.” She commented. “Well, I couldn’t say for sure where he is right now,” She held a massive claw up to her chin as she hummed contemplatively. “You know how he gets when he’s stressed; always finding more work to do and people to yell at.”

Poppy nodded, looking contemplative. “Well, thanks for the help anyway, Bernice.” She turned to where John Dory was balanced on a hanger, tail curled around the metal, but not before waving to the Bergen one last time. “See you at the wedding!”

The Bergen—Bernice? Bernice?—smiled, shaking her head. “Always nice to see you, Poppy!”

John Dory let Poppy take him by the paw and lead him out of the boutique and back to Rhonda. If his head was spinning before, it barely even felt attached now. Was this a fever dream? Oh, god, he must have taken a wrong turn on his way to Pop Village and crashed Rhonda, and all of this was just some weird coma dream his brain had come up with to torment him—

“Right!” Poppy was saying, as Rhonda got up and ready to move again. “We’ll check the castle next, I think—and if he’s not there, we start looking for King Gristle.” With that decided, she directed towards Rhonda towards the castle in question.

John Dory didn’t even have words with which to protest, at this point. With a resigned sigh, he watched as Poppy guided Rhonda up the steps of the castle. His nerves were shot, every fiber of his being frayed with anxiety, but there was no persuading Poppy to turn back. There was little he could do at this point but let Poppy lead him around, Rhonda coasting down the halls easily. John Dory’s thoughts turned inwards, following the same cycle of fear and self-loathing that he’d been avoiding for decades, and it kept coming back to one thought:

Just what had happened to Bitty B in his absence? Living in Bergentown? It had to—it had to have been something recent—Poppy had mentioned making peace with the Bergens, after all, and that must be when Bitty B took up residence in this wretched place, but—

But why? John Dory still wasn’t clear on how, exactly, peace could exist between Trolls and a species hellbent on eating them all. With the way the Bergens he had seen today carried themselves, there was no doubt in his mind that Trolls were on the menu—was it some kind of deal, some kind of willing sacrifice on the Trolls’ part in order to appease the Bergens? But that made no sense, who in their right minds would ever—

Rhonda came to a stop, and John Dory followed as Poppy disembarked. His goggles were still firmly over his eyes, and he had no intentions of removing them. So Bitty B had moved to Bergentown—overseeing the peace, maybe? Sacrificing himself in place of some other Troll?

John Dory shook his head as he followed Poppy in using his hair to launch himself up the wall. No, he refused to think about that. Poppy said Bitty B was okay, and John Dory had agreed to trust her. Maybe her definition of okay was different—

No. John Dory followed Poppy along what could only be described as a path along the wall, perfectly sized for Trolls to run along. He was not going to think about that. Floyd’s life was still on the line—John Dory could figure out what the hair was going on with Bergentown once he had all his brothers back.

Rhonda followed along as the pair made their way through the halls, seemingly unbothered by the occasional Bergen that passed through the halls. The Bergens in question all seemed to recognize Poppy, and she returned their greetings in kind.

Just as John Dory was sure he would implode—

“BRANCH!” Poppy took off along the pathway with a speed that made John Dory’s knees ache just watching, her tail whipping behind her as she bounded over to a Troll a short distance away. The Troll in question turned from the pair of half-sized Bergens he had been talking to, processed the pink blur that was barreling at him, and yelped as Poppy knocked him over with the force of her hug.

“Queen Poppy!” The Troll—Branch, John Dory realized, those blue eyes unmistakable—wheezed, prying himself from Poppy’s grasp. He hurriedly straightened his cape before bowing, silver crown glinting in the light. “I didn’t know you were visiting today.”

The Bergen with the gold crown and red cape smiled similarly. “Hey Poppy.”

Poppy turned to the Bergen and waved. “Hey Gristle! Good to see you!” She and the other Bergen launched into a much more energetic greeting, trading nicknames back and forth. But John Dory wasn’t paying attention to that anymore, pushing his goggles back up to fully drink in the sight of his baby brother. There he was, standing tall and proud, watching Poppy fondly…

A rush of pride crashed into John Dory’s chest. He rushed forwards, shoving his still-frayed nerves to the side. “BABY BRANCH!” His brother! His baby brother! Little Bitty B!

Branch yelped as John Dory scooped him up—or rather, as John Dory tried to scoop Branch up. “Ohhhhh you’ve grown—wow! Charlie horse!”

“Put me down!” Branch kicked and flailed until, gracelessly, the both of them tumbled to the floor. John Dory was slower to get up, joints creaking with the motion. Branch was already brushing off his cape and fussing with his crown, his face a mix between annoyance and something John Dory couldn’t decipher.

The crowned Bergen—Gristle, Poppy had called him—sidled over to look up towards Poppy. “Should I leave…?”

The other Bergen—Bridget? Was that what John Dory had heard her called? Why was he bothering to remember Bergen names—shook her head. “I wanna see where this goes, babe.”

“Who—” Branch backed away, face scrunching in what might have been recognition. “Oh. You.” Not the enthusiastic greeting John Dory imagined, but that didn’t stop him in the slightest.

“Branch, c’mon,” John Dory urged, “It’s me! John Dory! Your brother!” He stepped forwards, but Branch only narrowed his eyes and stepped back.

“Brother—” Gristle gasped, leaning forwards. Bridget had a hand over her mouth, eyes alight with curious excitement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Branch sniffed, arms crossed. “I have a brother, and he’s right there.” He nodded his head towards Gristle, who nodded in satisfaction.

John Dory wanted to scream. The Bergen? The Bergen was Branch’s brother? Branch had—but—

“So you weren’t in Brozone?” Poppy asked, tail starting to droop.

“Of course he was!” John Dory interjected. Okay, so he’d been thrown for a solid loop, real funny. But he was on a mission, dammit! He turned his attention back onto Branch, “You were Bitty B!”

“Brozone?” Gristle asked, peering at Branch suspiciously.

Poppy gasped. “You don’t know about Brozone?” She bounced in place, flapping her paws. “Brozone was only the boyband, like, ever! Even now their music is super popular, and the band broke up before I was even born!” She turned her attention onto Branch, almost launching herself at him in her fervor. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that you were in BROZONE?!”

As Branch hurriedly tried to fend off Poppy’s excitement, Gristle and Bridget turned their attention onto Branch. “You were in a band?” Gristle asked, voice tinted with incredulity.

“I can kinda see it.” Bridget commented, squinting. “It would have been during your years in the Troll Tree, right? Before the Great Escape.” She leaned in a little further, brow drawn in contemplation. “You do kinda look like you’d be related to them.”

Everyone looked at Bridget in surprise. “What?” She shrugged. “I pay attention when Poppy and I share music and hot goss. She got ‘Baby Baby Girl’ stuck in my head for weeks.”

“I dunno,” Gristle interjected, turning his scrutiny to Branch. “Were you really in a band as a baby?”

“Barely.” Branch snorted. “It was only a few songs and one live show.” There was something bitter in his tone, some hidden accusation that flew over John Dory’s head entirely.

“So you were Bitty B!” Poppy confirmed, grabbing Branch by the shoulders. “Oh my Troll!! You can’t just—I can’t believe you never told me!”

“We’ve only known each other for a year…” Branch commented quietly. He turned to John Dory, back on the defensive. “Why are you even here? No, wait—” He pressed his paws to his temples with a groan. “You’re here because you need something, aren’t you?”

“I do need something.” John Dory nodded.

Branch groaned. “Of course you are.”

Unfazed, John Dory barreled on. “It’s about Floyd.” He continued, letting his words spill out. The letter, the trip into Mount Rageous, the state of their brother in that awful diamond prison—it all spilled out in a rush before John Dory was fully processing each word. The more he spoke, the less his nerves about being right next to a pair of Bergens ebbed away, until his mind was lost in the task set before him.

By the time he finished, Poppy’s expression was one of quiet horror, her paws over her mouth. Even Gristle and Bridget looked upset, and Branch—

Branch’s expression was unreadable, his paws clenching and unclenching rhythmically. There was something stormy in those blue eyes, some deep reminder of the years spent apart.

“And why do you need me?” Branch asked.

John Dory almost laughed. What a silly question! “If we’re gonna pull off the Perfect Family Harmony, we’ll need to get the whole band back together. And since Floyd is trapped in a diamond prison, the only way to save him is with the Perfect Family Harmony.” He frowned at Branch. “It’s not complicated, Bitty B.”

“Yeah!” Poppy added. “You’ll get to see your brothers again! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Not a chance.”

John Dory stumbled back at Branch’s words. “What?” That… there must be something wrong with his ears. He must have misheard. There was no way that Bitty B would—

“You heard me.” Branch’s voice was eerily calm, almost detached.

A growl started to build in John Dory’s throat. “Bitty B—”

“Don’t call me that.” Branch snapped. He stepped forwards, “You leave me behind for more than two decades, without a single note, and then when you return you expect me to just act like nothing happened?” Branch’s voice rose in pitch with his incredulity, his paws gesturing wildly as he spoke. “I have a kingdom to help run, my brother’s wedding is in four days, and you want me to toss that all aside to go on an adventure for some Trolls I barely know?” He leaned forwards, teeth bared in a snarl. “Not. A. Chance.”

John Dory gasped, affronted. Yeah, okay, so he’d been gone a while. But he was back! And Floyd was in danger! What in the world was Branch thinking?

“He’s your brother!” Poppy protested, dragging Branch several paces down the path. “You of all people should get how important that is, Branch. I mean, if Cooper, the best little brother in the whole world—no offense, Gristle—”

“Some offense taken.” Gristle responded, though he was smiling.

“—was the one in danger, I would stop at nothing to help him. “ Poppy continued. “And I know you’d do the same for Gristle.”

“Poppy.” Branch held up a paw, putting a pause on her impassioned speech. “I see where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But…” He sighed, heavy and tired, dragging a paw down his face. “All of my brothers left when I was two. Not once, in the near twenty-three years that they’ve been gone, have I so much as received the slightest indication that they’re even alive.”

“But they’re here now…” Poppy started. “At least, John Dory is.”

Branch shook his head. “That’s not the point.” He said. “The point is that I don’t know them. They were in my life for the first two years and then they were gone.” He glanced past Poppy to where John Dory was trying not to watch too obviously, several paces away and close to the wall. “Twenty-three years, Poppy. Anyone can become a totally new person in less than half that.” He shrugged, turning his gaze away to a particularly interesting torch-holder across the hall. “I’m not risking my neck for a couple of strangers, Poppy. Not when there’s so much already on my plate.”

“But—” Poppy started, “They’re your brothers.”

“No, they’re not.” Branch’s voice rose as he spoke, and he breathed deeply, paws clenching and unclenching.

Poppy gasped. “That’s not how blood works, Branch!”

“Blood isn’t everything, Queen Poppy.” Branch murmured. He turned away fully, idly waving a paw as he spoke. “You and your… guest have full access to the castle, as usual. I have business to attend to in the Eastern Quarter.” And with that, he walked away, cape swinging slowly with each step.

John Dory stepped forwards, paws clenching into fists. “Branch��” He stopped, staring down at the bright pink paw thrown out in front of him.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Gristle sighed, turning to follow after Branch.

The two of them turned the corner, Gristle’s exasperated exclamation quickly fading as they went out of hearing range. John Dory watched the two of them go numbly, barely even aware of Poppy and Bridget talking to each other.

This was supposed to be so simple. Branch was supposed to be the easiest brother to find and pick up. Just go to Pop Village and find Bitty B. Simple. Easy. The perfect way to start the onerous task of bringing them all together for Floyd.

How had it gone so wrong?

+=+=+=+=+

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Branch picked up the pace, his shoulders hunching as he ignored Gristle’s question. Anger buzzed in his veins while new worries joined the constant flow of concerns in his mind, his paws clenching and unclenching as he walked towards the castle doors. Branch really did have business to attend to out in town; he hadn’t been lying about that. There was always something that needed to be done, as Prince of Bergentown.

“Hey!” And there was Branch’s big-little brother, matching pace with him easily. “I know you can hear me!”

Branch broke out into a run. Undignified? Yeah. Obvious? That too. But Branch didn’t care. He couldn’t let himself care—there were too many other things he needed to care and worry and think about, he didn’t have the time or energy for this—

“Are you…” Gristle panted, still keeping pace with Branch. “Are you just going to keep running? You’ll run out of castle, dude.”

Branch slowed down, if only so he could properly glare at his obnoxious big-little brother. “Shut up.” As far as retorts went, it wasn’t his best—but what else was he supposed to do? Pull a witty comment from his ass?

Gristle rolled his eyes. “Real clever.” The two of them came to a halt—there was no point in running around; Branch wasn’t going to shake Gristle. “But really, Branch, what’s going on with you?”

Branch crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He huffed, turning his head to the side.

Gristle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Berg give me patience…” He muttered. Why was dealing with Branch in a mood always worse than trimming claws?

“When Dad died,” Gristle started, “When his body was falling apart from illness…” He had to pause, here, the memory heavy on his shoulders. “He was suffering, right there in front of me, and I was helpless to do anything about it.” His hands trembled, gaze firmly locked on the floor.

“Your point being?” Branch refused to be swayed by a sob story. He was as much a Bergen as a Troll, after all.

“It sucks to lose someone.” Gristle growled. “You know that as well as I do.”

“It sucks to lose someone close to you.” Branch snarled back. “Grandma was everything to me. Your Father was everything to you. But my former brothers are nothing to me.”

“Okay.” Gristle shrugged. He fixed Branch with a steady gaze. “But when your older brother dies on Mount Rageous, slowly and painfully…” He waved his hand dismissively, “I’d say I hope it doesn’t haunt you, but we both know it will.”

Branch’s shoulders hunched, his paws clenching and unclenching.

At Branch’s lack of response, Gristle cleared his throat. He walked over to the corner of the hall and pulled one of the colored cords, ringing a bell. A moment later, one of the serving staff—Hilda—arrived, bowing in greeting. “Your Majesty. Your Highness.”

Gristle spoke, “Inform Groth and Bernice that they have the remaining days before the wedding off. Paid leave.” Hilda nodded once and rushed off with her orders.

“What?” Branch’s eyes widened as he realized what his brother’s play was. “You did not just—”

“Branch.” Gristle’s voice was imploring. “You actually have the chance to help. To save your family.” Gristle clenched his hand into a fist, gaze resolute. “I’m not letting you waste this.”

“You—” Branch swallowed. His paws clenched and unclenched, and he wrested his gaze away from his big-little brother. After a long, drawn out moment, he threw his head back and sighed.

“I hate you so much.”

Gristle waved it off. “Yeah, yeah, love you too. Now go save your brother!”

+=+=+=+=+

John Dory stared at the album cover in his hands. He had always been more of a doer than a thinker—sitting around doing nothing only ever let in the thoughts he didn’t want, the thoughts that crept up his brain and haunted him for decades.

He, Rhonda, Poppy, and Bridget had moved to one of the castle’s two drawing rooms, the plush couches and craft-covered coffee table oddly Troll-like in design. Rhonda was curled up in Bridget’s lap—she’d taken a shine to the Bergen, which John Dory refused to acknowledge. Him and Poppy were both sitting atop Rhonda’s carapace, Poppy and Bridget talking about the upcoming wedding in a rapid-fire deluge of words that John Dory wasn’t processing.

Every inch of John Dory wanted to burst into action, to track down Bitty B and make him understand what was at stake here. But he didn’t feel ready to wander the castle halls alone with Rhonda, for all that Bridget had become less and less of an immediate threat in his mind.

“Okay, fine.” Branch’s voice cut through the room, and John Dory looked up to see his brother padding across the floor towards them. He launched himself onto the table with his hair. “Let’s go save Floyd.”

Branch had swapped the fur-lined cape for one made of a tougher fabric—well, no, this one was more of a cloak, actually, covering his shoulders fully. There were two clasps, one at his neck and one slightly lower—only the belled upper clasp was closed. Under the cloak, Branch had swapped his shirt for a leaf vest that John Dory vaguely recognized. It was an ensemble that screamed travel, even with the embroidered gray swirls lining the hem of the cloak.

The crown was still the same, though—same silver ring of leaves encircling Branch’s head. John Dory wondered if Bitty B ever parted with it. How long he had it.

Poppy was already moving, already on the table by the time John Dory was even standing. “I knew you’d come around! Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back—”

Branch held up a paw. “Why would I do that? You’re coming with.” He said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, to him.

“Fine by me.” John Dory stretched before sliding down Rhonda’s side to her open door. Poppy had grown on him like moss on a stone—having her and her energy along would be great.

Poppy squealed. “Oh my hair! Yes! Yes yes yes!” She grabbed Branch’s wrist, yanking him over to Rhonda with ease. “Brozone 2.0! Brozone Reunion! Brozone, Here We Bro Again! Brozone, Where’d They Bro? I don’t know, WE’RE GONNA FIND THEM!”

“Have fun!” Bridget called out as Rhonda sped out the room. “Don’t die!”

John Dory grinned as Rhonda made her way down the castle steps. Finally, time to get this show on the road!

[iamnotawomanimagod]

I love over-analyzing media and I have pulled magnificent theories and headcanons out of my ass on the tiniest crumbs in other fandoms before BUT

y'all might be taking this improvised comedy show that is greatly determined by dice rolls a little too seriously

[sysig]

Reading moodboard #84430940 (Patreon)

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

I want to thank my Lord and savior Tom Cardy for posting a song that has the exact vibe I wanted for the relationship of ps8!Lance/ps8!Allura with an oc I have for this au

[gwydionae]

I get using no specific iteration of the TMNT in a crossover and just making yet another new version. After all, the franchise has had many, many different versions at this point, so it's easy to accept that this is simply one more to add to the pile.

But Naruto has... one. Just the one. So when all of a sudden characters are written/shown to have expertise that they shouldn't have at the age they're being depicted, it just ends up feeling weird.

I get that fitting things into the Naruto timeline can be a chore. Do it too early, and Sakura is kinda useless. Do it too late, and Sasuke's off murdering people. And if you try to set it after the series, the power levels are seriously gonna be out of whack.

But breaking the only canon that has ever existed for these characters makes them feel like... not the same characters. I might be the only one who cares about this, but it really took me out of the story, to the point where I couldn't help but focus on it. I don't want to be distracted from page one of a silly ninja crossover comic.

[ukulele-mixtape]

Maple Scraps: The Siren's Call Chapter 9

context: tune (oc) has just arrived at restoration hq and is having A Time getting adjusted to being front and center in what she considers to be the heart of enemy territory. and it doesn't help that they're all nice and willing to deal with her shit attitude even despite her protests.

and the one who confronts her on that eventually is silver.

i.e. the trust building exercise chapter aka my favorite chapter that i worked on before i abandoned this fic

cw! for food, starvation, and slight disordered eating.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a little late into the evening, and a few weeks since the trio arrived at Emeraldville. After countless introductions and friendly faces, all of whom questioned the reasoning behind their favorite blue blur’s…facial situation (prompting multiple unique reactions at her expense), Tune found herself in the midst of Restoration HQ the first day of her arrival. It was an underground base of operations in Emeraldville for something they called the Resistance: a ragtag freedom fighting organization formed with the goal of fighting in the war against Dr. Robotnik (whom she now was forced to learn was, indeed, actually named Dr. Eggman, adopting the nickname to spite those who hated him.). 

She learned that after the “Zombot'' apocalypse spread across the globe, the original Restoration HQ was decidedly moved underground in favor of maintaining safety, security and allowing for people in need of a place to stay to rest their weary heads, helping out where they could as a collective volunteer effort. As much as something like this would seem like it’d be right up her alley, Tune felt suffocated by the talents surrounding her. She watched as soldiers trained and rattled off plans for supply distribution and mercenary work. Mechanical noise bounced against every wall, echoing inside the halls she silently passed through. People of all demographics ran around with paperwork in their hands, shopping bags full of clothes and food in their cheeks as rewards for a hard day's work. Community laced every facility this place had to offer, and yet Tune felt completely overwhelmed, struggling to find anywhere to breathe. 

Tune understood she was right in the heart of the most dangerous place in the world for someone like her, and if she wasn't careful, she would certainly reveal herself as a threat they would have no problem managing.

So, for the next few weeks since the trio’s arrival, Tune made it her business to stay clear of anything to do with the Restoration. It wasn’t her problem to deal with, and it certainly wasn’t something she was confident she could even contribute to effectively, if she even wanted to. She’d force herself out the exit, skates retracted and ready to roll away into the horizon, considering just taking the chance and hopping on the next train back to Station Square so she could transfer and finally get her Ramtrax ticket to New Mobotropolis right this time. But even if she managed to scramble enough cash, she had the knowledge that these people finally knew her. She wasn’t anonymous anymore. She had stepped into the limelight she never wanted, a consequence of her reckless actions.

And each time she felt herself trying to leave without a word, without anyone knowing she was gone, she would hear the distant yells of some of its founding members beckoning her to return. Notably Amy Rose, a girl Tune deemed to be way too nosy for her own good, despite her earnest attempt to ease Tune’s worry. 

‘You’re always guaranteed to be safe with us’, Tune recalled the conversation she had with Amy on that first week, Amy’s honesty seeping through all corners of her tone, cupping Tune’s clawed hands. ‘This is a place where people can come and go wherever and whenever they want as volunteers, but it’s packed to the brim with the best security around. No one is going to try and hurt you.’

‘Why would you assume I'm worried about something like that?’ Tune asked brashly.

‘It’s all on your face, Tune: you're incredibly on edge.’ Amy would reply. ‘You’re a musician right? You must be worried about those attacks going on all over the news. You look like you’re itching to break out of your own skin, like everyone in the world is out to get you just by looking in your general direction.’

‘Can’t say I’m particularly worried about getting caught in that drama in the music world. I don’t perform gigs anymore; getting panic attacks on stage ain’t really my style.’ Tune tried to cover, disinterested eyes turning to the side. ‘And I can handle someone trying to come at me just as much as I can handle a whole music setlist on my own.’

Amy would let go of Tunes hands, clapping her own together like the greatest idea known to man had just popped inside her head, eyes twinkling with excitement as she carried her thoughts out.

‘So why don't you take one of the dormitories for yourself?’ she’d giddily ask. ‘We can set you up with some sound equipment and you can work on your stuff there! I’m sure we have some instruments laying around in the supply room.’

‘Why would you wanna do something like that?’ Tune pondered. ‘I don’t got any money on me to pay for that kinda hospitality.’

‘It won’t be a paid stay, you’re welcome to be there as long as you want. And like I said, this place is for volunteer work. We’re not going to turn you down because you’re not quite acquainted with us just yet. That defeats the whole purpose of what we’re trying to accomplish here.’

In her mind, Tune could see exactly how Amy brightened up as she felt her eyes lock on to the pink hedgehog's. It was frustrating…she hated the idea of disappointing someone like this so soon. But she couldn’t just stay here. Not when there was work to be done elsewhere. Not when there was a chance Alto could be closing in. Not while he was still out there claiming more people into his ranks. And most importantly, not if she wasn’t able to do something in return to warrant the gesture.

‘…And if I say I don’t want it?’ Tune would ask.

‘Then it’s ultimately your choice.’ Amy responded quickly, as if she already had experience with conversations like this before. ‘No one will force you, but I do urge you to consider it, even if only for a day or two.’

Tune paused, contemplating. With an uneasy tone, she muttered out a simple: ‘...I’ll think about it.’

And Amy’s smile became infectiously wide. ‘That’s all I can ask for.’

And that’s what led her here. The final day of her third week, Tune, who once basked in the sensory input from all corners of the world was now begging for silence. The hustle and bustle of the underground city became too much for her to handle, and she was practically on the verge of dissociating from her body entirely. She needed a place to breathe, but refused to ask anyone around where she should go, lest they spark up conversation needlessly. So with a mindful eye, she studied the way people would enter and exit the facility for what felt like hours. A button here, two hidden locks there. Any time she’d catch someone’s eye, she’d bolt out in a panic, comically pretending like she was doing something important when anyone would try and circle around her.

And when she tried to walk away after a while of surveillance, she turned around the corner and got a face full of soft white fur.

“Whoops, woah there!” Silver exclaimed with a slight chuckle, a basket of all types of snacks, from pastries and sandwiches to flavored tea bags in his hands. It was weaved together by beautifully wooden straw and ribbon, wrapped cleanly in plastic wrap. Realizing who he’d accidentally bumped into, Silver beamed. “Oh Tune, just the girl I needed to see today! We were wondering when you were going to show back up again. Amy wanted to give you this personally, but she had a few errands to run.”

Before she could even blink, Silver thrusted the basket into Tune’s arms, allowing her to examine the contents up close. It was so…girly. She could see a tiny note on the edge of the basket; frilly, neatly placed handwriting etched on the parchment: “I added some extra cheese danishes for good measure! Welcome aboard <3”  How did Amy know that she liked cheese danishes? She never told anyone. Was she like, psychic or something?

“I’m not one for handouts,” Tune stated, a little too coldly, trying to place the basket back in Silver’s hands. “Don’t you think you should give this to someone who’d actually deserve it, Floats?”

Silver shook his head. “It was made specifically for you, so you gotta take it. Amy’s orders.”

“Since when am I taking orders from her all of a sudden?”

“Since now.” Silver’s voice lowered firmly, slight annoyance laced in his tone. “So come on, eat up! There’s some good stuff in there.” He placed his hands on his waist playfully. He watched her eye the basket's contents curiously. She was hesitating to accept it. But that reluctance didn’t match her eyes, uncovered by her glasses, they darted around like they were desperate to rip open the plastic and dig in themselves. And so to goad her into committing, he pressed on with a wiggle of his brow. “If you don’t I will.”

“Knock yourself out, then.” Tune immediately responded plainly, trying once more to shove the basket back in his face.

“What, you don’t want it? Not even these here…mochi doughnuts?”

“The what?” She tried to play it cool, but without her glasses, Tune was completely exposed as she quickly retracted her hands to scan the basket more thoroughly, trying to find the doughnuts he promised. And then, embarrassingly so, setting up the next punchline of her life, her stomach grumbled in anticipation. 

Got her.

“Now what could that be, I wonder?” Silver slyly pondered with an innocent tone, placing a finger to his chin, much to Tune’s dismay. “Come on, let’s eat some together! I’m due for a break, anyway.”

“Ugh, do I have to?” she whined, her voice small.

“Yep, captain's orders.” Silver gestured to himself.

“Since when am I taking orders from you all of a sudden?”

Silver flicked a small psychic wave at Tune’s back, pushing her to get moving. She stumbled a bit, but eventually took the hint and started skating along the pavement. A light blue aura surrounded Silver as he floated in the air and scrolled past her with a smile. He made a big waving arm gesture, beckoning her to follow him as he glided his way to the Victory Garden entrance, Tune skating faster to make sure she didn’t lose him.

“Since now.”

–

The two sat quietly on the roof of Silver’s greenhouse. It took a bit of nudging for her to even try and sit next to him, but Tune eventually relented, pressing the button to make her skates detract again and hugging her knees with her arms. She had a bored look on her face as she gazed out into the distance, watching the sun set below the horizon. It was like she didn’t want to be here at all. Which, to be fair, she didn’t. At least not with anyone. Even still, Silver tried to take her cold demeanor in stride, watching as she set the basket down with her dominant hand, careful to ensure it wouldn’t roll over. He took the initiative to open the basket, confident she wouldn’t have bothered if he hadn’t. He took out a few of the items; a cheese danish and ube mochi doughnut wrapped in clean plastic film and an apple fritter for himself, setting the danish and doughnut by her side. Tune side eyed the pastries, not making a move. Her stomach grumbled once more.

“You know, you can eat it.” Silver jested, already starting to dig into his fritter. “You seem really hungry. When’s the last time you ate?”

“...I dunno. I had some leftovers from the train ride that I've been trying to salvage all week, but I think I finished them off yesterday morning.” she mumbled, placing a cheek to her knee, away from Silver's obviously worried expression.

“So…you haven’t eaten since yesterday?”

“Pretty much.”

“But why not just get something from the cafeterias or something? You can eat train food but you can’t eat when people offer you stuff?”

“I can eat it because I paid for it to be included when I bought my ticket. The cafeteria acts like a soup kitchen for the needy. I don’t need anything.”

“So you’re just comfortable with eating scraps, is that it?”

“That a problem?” Tune sneered in his direction.

“Well of course it is!” Silver wanted to strangle her. “No wonder you’re so grouchy. You gotta eat.” He pushed the pastries a little further towards her, trying to get her attention. “Try the danish, Amy’s pastries are really good.”

“I thought I told you I don’t take handouts.”

“It’s a gift.” Silver groaned exasperatedly.

“One I'm not really sure you realize I don’t deserve.”

There was a long, awkward pause after that. It’d been hard getting Tune to really say much of anything when she arrived that first week, this being the first real conversation anyone other than Amy had with her. She relented on Amy’s request for her to stay in one of the dorms, but never came out unless she absolutely had to, usually during the evenings when most people were heading back home anyway. Her eyes were always glazed over, like she hadn’t slept in days.

When she would be asked to do something around Restoration HQ, like cleaning, delivering paperwork or even organizing boxes, she’d do it without question, but retreat once no one had anything left to demand of her. She would never be willing to hang out, but would always be staring off into the distance on her breaks at people, like if she wanted to mingle but didn’t know how, or rather refused to allow herself to.

Silver had offhandedly vented out his concerns to Sonic at one point during a date to the park, the two hedgehogs finally having a brief moment alone after a long time apart.

‘Do you think she hates us?’ he’d ask. ‘I don’t think we’re doing anything wrong here…’

Sonic would pull Silver in close from the side, shaking his head.

‘I don’t think so,’ Sonic’s nimble hands would speak for him. ‘Since I’ve known her, she’s not the type to want to get too close. She doesn’t want to let people in just yet.’

‘But she doesn’t act the way someone like Shadow or even Knuckles would do. Those two are just introverted, but Tune? She just looks so…not happy. Amy had given her all those instruments for her dorm and it’s really rare when we hear even a peep. But music’s the one thing she seems to enjoy the most, no?’ Silver’s worry danced around his tongue, unable to stop himself. ‘Do you think that there’s something going on? Maybe we can help her.’

‘It’s ultimately up to her to decide if she even wants that help, babe. We can’t just force it on her.’

‘But if she continues like this…’

Sonic gave a fond look towards Silver as he listened, noticing how he’d fidget around his benched seat in the park. Sonic took another bite of the food platter they’d been sharing, Silver swirling his soda cup around lost in thought.

“I’ve seen that look countless times in my life…’ Silver admitted somberly, sliding his pointer finger up and down against the sides of his cup. ‘In my time period, it wasn’t uncommon. You bury yourself into your work, you hide away in your bed, you barely function at all as a person when you think there’s no point to anything. I just worry she’s going down that same route.’

‘Maybe she just needs that gentle push then?’ Sonic would suggest. ‘Maybe instead of going for a direct approach, we just finagle our way to the finish line.’

‘What do you mean?’ Silver’s ears perked up in anticipation, tilting his head to the side.

‘Someone like Tune isn’t gonna listen to us when we’re hovering all over her.’ Sonic continued. ‘And unless she’s forced out, she’d rather spend the whole day locked away. So why not do something to casually ‘put her to work’ so to speak.’

‘‘Put her to work?’ She already works plenty at HQ.”

‘Nah, nothing like that. I mean, give her something to do. Something to distract herself. Something tangible, like maybe food, or trying to offhandedly persuade her into going on a walk. Something that seems innocuous so she doesn’t suspect anything weird.’

‘Do you really think that would work?’

“Well it’s not a guarantee, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

After that, Silver had caught her a few times when working at the supply depot, trying to stir up some type of conversation, anything at all to get her to familiarize herself, but she always would give a simple “Sorry I'm a little busy. Maybe later.”, and then would proceed to cut her break early in favor of more independent work, but that “maybe” never came.  To say the gang was worried about her was an understatement. But how could they approach someone who made it their whole business to not be perceived in any capacity whatsoever? They had nothing to go off but her foul mouth, her interest in music, and her inability to accept any form of help from anyone who tried. She gave them absolutely nothing. Truly, she was a handful without even having to try. 

But, she still did take up the offer to take that dorm. So, supposedly there was one thing, at least. If she didn’t want to be here, she had every opportunity to leave. But she didn’t.

Silver stared at his garden below. It had been a nice growing season: the spring’s rain helped bring many flowers to the forefront, allowing them to bathe in the sunshine they’d been working so hard to meet. The potatoes and carrots he had planted were sprouting beautifully, lush green leaves spread out across the crater in lined patterns. Silver wished that he could bring some over to Tune, maybe to have something to tide her over, but she’d already peered at the garden like if she knew he would ask. So he didn’t bother.

He didn’t want to give up on her though. He was sure he could break through, if only for just a little bit. It was like a puzzle that needed solving, and Silver wanted to be the one to do it. So, he tried again. He tried to break the ice frosting over this summer’s evening roof.

“Can I ask you something?” he began, glancing up at Tune. She barely acknowledged him.

“You're gonna do it anyway.” she said plainly.

“...Why do you keep saying that? The whole ‘I don’t deserve this’ thing?”

“Because I don’t.” she quickly uttered. “I don’t deserve y'all's kindness.”

“But who told you that?”

“I don’t need to be told, Floats. And I don’t have to be a brainiac like Lil’ Fox to know how I’m being right now. How I've been all week. It’s intentional. I need y’all to stop.” her tone was getting a bit more stern.

“Stop?” Silver shifted in his seat. “Stop what, exactly?”

Tune finally turned to face Silver again, raising her body to sit up, her expression angry, flustered. His worried expression only served to tick her off more.

“T-this! This crap,” she hotly retorted, wildly flailing her arms around as if to emphasize her point. “All these kind gestures and trying to check in on me. I see right through you; Who freakin’ wouldn’t? You guys are so transparent it’s almost insulting. But yo, not for nothing, why y’all trying so hard to make believe you want this? I give y’all nothing yet every time I try to pull away, you keep coming back and I don’t know why!”

Her face was hot, but her expression was that of total fear, like a cornered, feral animal.

“Because we want you to feel okay, we want you to feel welcome.” Silver tried to argue. “We care about you, Tune. And like it or not, we’re worried.”

“But why?! What have I done that warrants you trying to help? Why are you people trying everything in the universe to convince me I’m worthy of something I’m not? You don’t know anything about me.”

“But you won’t even let us get to know each other. Do you really think it’s fair to say we shouldn’t worry about you?”

“Y’all need to learn to put that energy towards people who need it more. People who deserve it.” Her voice was tiny as she hugged at her knees once more.

She wasn’t listening. No matter what, she was completely, utterly incapable of forming any other opinion of herself that wasn’t perceivably negative. It put Silver in a very hard position, the desire of wanting to help and not knowing how. She was being completely unreasonable with herself. It was like trying to convince herself of anything, pleading for her to love herself, or at the very least respect herself, would be null and void to even try for.

And then a light bulb stuck.

If Silver could convince her to respect herself just yet, she’d learn to respect others through her own actions of self care.

“So, do you only ever respond to people demanding things from you?” Silver asked, almost condescendingly. “Is that what you want? Is that what'll make you think you deserve something from us?”

Tune didn’t entertain him. But Silver continued anyway.

“If so, I want you to eat that danish,” he said.  “And I won’t let you leave here until you do. I'll stay up the whole night if I have to. And even after that.”

Tune stood silent, but her eyes curiously locked on with Silver’s determined glare. He was going to get through to her if it killed him.

“...You'll be here a while then.” She tried to fight. Her stomach growled once more, betraying her.

“I’ve got all the time in the world. I live here now.” he said simply.

“...Pass.”

“Then how’s this?” he challenged, picking up the danish and practically shoving it in her hands. “I won’t eat a single morsel if you don’t.”

“W-what?!” she exclaimed, eyes widened.

“You heard me. I don’t eat until I see you do it. Any time you take a bite, I’ll do it too. The second you stop, I stop.”

“That’s insane, I’m not letting you do that.”

“Well if you don’t like it, start eating.”

“You're gonna starve yourself like that, dude! Don't be an idiot. You gotta feed yourself if you’re hungry. How else do you expect to–” she cut herself off. 

Silver smirked, the silence all he needed to hear. He watched as she processed everything, from the way he looked at her to the basket separating the two. She let go of her knees and gazed at the garden below. And after a long, agonizingly long, silent beat, Silver watched as she took the mochi doughnut from the roof, and unwrapped it, looking at Silver one last time as she defiantly nibbled at it with the fronts of her teeth, choosing the wrong pastry to start with. He mirrored her actions, nibbling at the apple fritter still in his hands, and when she took notice, a scowl formed on her face, a blush forming around the edges of her cheeks. Aggressively, she forced the doughnut into her mouth without restraint, chewing grossly and never breaking that eye contact. Silver followed suit, shoving his fritter in his mouth alongside her. If people were around to see it, they’d look crazy. 

He watched as she chewed thoroughly, like if she was putting all the effort she could muster in this one action. He didn’t relent, and only when he saw her swallow, even going so far as to open her mouth and stick out her tongue to show she wasn’t lying, seeing all the purple and golden brown bits of the doughnut stuck to her shark like teeth, did he do the same, mouth agape and all.

“Happy?” Tune grumbled, shoving the wrapping into her pocket.

“Very. But we’re not quite done here. I said the danish.” He pointed to the pastry in emphasis.

“I ate something. Isn’t that enough?” 

“Nope. I said you needed to eat the danish. So if you want to do something useful, eat it.” Silver lifted his leg so he could rest his arm atop, rummaging for another snack in the basket. He settled on a fruit sandwich. “Remember, I don’t eat until you do.”

“Oh my–for the love of everything–I’m gone. Eat by yourself.” Tune growled, getting up from her place on the roof and made the attempt to jump down, but Silver was faster, quickly snatching her body with his power with a firm grip. Her eyes were threatening to bulge out of her sockets, and she wished so hard that night she could use her sonar wave to absolutely wreck his shit and blast him off the roof.

She was gently, but firmly, placed back on the roof of the greenhouse, her blazing yellow eyes staring daggers at Silver’s calm frame, only being released by her top half, her waist down still firmly in Silver’s very casual grasp. It was like holding her down like this meant absolutely nothing to him. She was desperately still trying to fight this, grunting as she was trying to fight against his iron grip and stand. But she couldn’t no matter how hard she tried.

“Nope, that’s not happening.” Silver said matter-of-factly.

“You better let me go!” Tune screamed.

“Eat the danish and I'll consider it.”

“I ain’t wasting more food!”

“It’s not a waste. You need to eat.” Silver didn't let up no matter how hard she fought.

“Silver, let me go. Now. I ain’t playin’ around no more.” Tune’s tone was dark, threatening, demanding, evident by her dropping Silver’s real name.

“Eat the danish.”

“Give it to someone else!!”

“Nope. They're for you.”

He was playing her game and going for that high score.

Another beat. Silver could swear he saw steam coming out from her ears. She blew air into her cheeks, her fur completely tensed up, eyes twitching, wrinkles all over that ugly expression. If he wasn’t so committed to this, he’d laugh so hard right now at her face alone, knowing she was imagining every conceivable way she could gut out his insides with her eyeballs. But he knew better, and he was desperate to help her. And while he hated being so relentless and admittedly uncharacteristically harsh, she needed to know she was deserving of that help, even if this was the only way to get it through that thick head of hers.

And then, once more, after an agonizingly long wait,  she snatched the cheese danish carelessly and released it from the wrapping, looking away from Silver and towards the now completely starry sky. Silver followed suit with that exact same energy, opening the fruit sandwich and at the same as Tune, ripping a piece of the breaded good with his teeth. Tune ate, and she ate, and she ate some more. It started off quick, eating for the sake of getting Silver off her back. But the more she chewed, the more she began to really just…reflect.

For the first time since she left home, she allowed herself to savor every morsel instead of just using it for temporary fuel for a cause. She acknowledged the lightly sweetened pastry cream, the flaky crust surrounding it, the tender love and care that went into every painstakingly long step to crafting such a delicious snack. And by the time she finished, she was crying, this time for real. This time for a reason.

Silver watched as Tune carefully snuck her hand into the basket to grab another item from the menu of goodies Amy had provided, taking out around three and unwrapping them all. She ate quietly, glancing at Silver as if to demand he’d do the same. Content, he released her from his psychic grip. She didn’t fight. There was a long, comfortable silence in the air, the two just snacking away atop the greenhouse, taking in the gorgeous night sky.

“Silver?” Tune suddenly uttered, mouth full of snacks.

“Yeah?” Silver answered to her unknowing plea, the refreshingly calmer use of his name not gone unnoticed.

“...Thanks.”

Silver nodded and placed a hand into the basket, grabbing a bag of barbecue flavored potato chips. He opened it up, allowing the aroma to float into the atmosphere. And before he got the chance to place his hand inside the snack bag, he saw Tune’s hand closest to him reaching, clenching her clawed fingers like a child, demanding he hand some over to her. Silver smiled warmly, soft chuckle escaping his lips. He reached inside and pulled out a handful of chips from the bag, placing them in her hand and watched her eat quietly, sniffling all the way. 

"That's what I'm here for." He began. "But you know, I don't want to keep doing this. I want you to take better care of yourself, if not for me, then for you. If you'd like, we can start small and eat lunches together during our breaks. Or I can teach you ways around the Victory Garden and you can harvest stuff for your meals. That way you don't feel like you're taking away from us or freeloading."

Tune's voice was hoarse, but genuine. "You're so weird. Caring about someone you know nothing about."

"I could say the same for you, Tune." Silver simply stated, his tone warm. "After all, you didn't want me to go hungry either. Sounds to me like you care without you having to say anything. That's why we gotta learn more about each other, right?"

Tune's mouth curled ever so slightly upward as she chewed the last remaining bits of chips left in her hand. Turning her gaze directly to Silver's, she muttered a small, "Whatever, dude." But the rude reply obviously didn't match her now calmed, slightly amused tone.

He’d eventually want to get a full meal inside of her soon, but for now, this was okay. Because Silver knew for certain.

He got her.

as a noted fun fact: this comic i drew a while back took heavy inspiration from this chapter. it's tune after her arc is completed.

[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.

[tbaluver]

hello there ! firstly, i wanted to tell you that i genuinely love your writing bc of the amazing characterization of the lnds boys !!! i wanted to request smth myself <3 feel free to ignore this if it's smth not within your taste !

i just recently thought that it would be cute to have a reader with a disney princess-like voice singing lullabies ! it could be their child or someone they babysit ! you could do any of the lnds boys that react to this but personally i'd like to see zayne (mainly bc he'd probably see reader at the hospital's kids area doing this !) and sylus, please ! thank you for your writing, we adore it ! ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡

When They Hear You Singing A Lullaby- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: eeeee anonnie i'm so happy to hear you love my writings it always makes me day !! im always grateful and love your guys support for my silly writings ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) i hope this is alright and that you enjoy this anonnie ! and also this emoticon is so cute omg i'm going to use this often ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You thought he would be sound asleep when he was over at your place when you were babysitting one of your co-workers baby. The baby wasn't necessarily fussy at all with you but it started crying because it couldn't go to sleep. It woke Xavier up and he followed the sound of the crying down the hall until he overheard you singing a lullaby.

He would peek through the door to hear and watch you put the baby back to sleep. He watches in pure adoration, a soft smile spreading across his face. After you gently set the baby down, he approaches you slowly, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder. "You sang so beautifully," He whispers softly, careful not to disturb the baby. "Can you sing me to sleep next?"

"As if you need any help sleeping" You joked but you did it anyway. You sang a soft lullaby as he rested his head on your chest. He drifted off to sleep almost instantly, a soft smile on his face, before you could even finish the song

Zayne:

While waiting for Zayne to finish his shift at the hospital, you received a text from him apologizing for the delay; he needed to discuss an upcoming operation with his colleagues. You texted him to take his time and began exploring the familiar hospital halls. As you wandered, you found yourself in the children’s area, admiring the colorful murals that brighten the space. Your growing hunger led you in search of a vending machine, but instead, you encountered a crying familiar child patient. You remember this child when you collected their drawings for the charity event you and Zayne helped with.

You crouch down to meet eye level with the child asking if they needed any assistance or if they needed a nurse but they simply shook their head saying that they can't find the nurse and that they can't sleep. They tugged your arm and asked if you can tell them a story or sing them a lullaby and you were more than happy to help out.

After finishing his shift, Zayne looked for you in the work hallway, but it was empty. He texted you but got no response, so he followed your shared location. As he approached, he heard you singing a familiar children's lullaby. Peeking through the door, he saw your back turned as you sang. He didn't want to interrupt but wanted to hear the whole song for himself too, captivated by your delicate and graceful voice. He was literally melting on the spot as he heard you sing. A smile would slowly spreading across his lips.

He's heard you humming before, usually when your doing your work or when you were helping him out in the kitchen. You let your mind drift off just a little bit as you hummed some of your favorite melodies. He already knew you had a beautiful voice but every time he tried to comment on it, your cheeks would heat up in embarrassment.

Lost in thought, Zayne was startled when you both unexpected crossed paths. You jumped as you emerged from the room, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, worried that he had heard everything. He spoke first, "There is no reason to be flustered. I think you have a beautiful voice and it's certainly comforting. Whenever you are comfortable I would like to hear more of it."

Rafayel:

He was over at your house while you babysat one of your co-workers baby for the day. He asked if you needed any help when the baby started crying but you said it was okay as you ran off the go tend to the baby while he continued sketching on his sketchbook.

That's when he hears your voice. He sets aside his pencil and sketchbook, stopping his work to peek through the doorway. There, he watches you sing a lullaby while gently cradling the baby. He would think that your voice was beautiful and enchanting that seemed to effortlessly captivate all who hears it.

When you gently put the baby back down to it's bed, he'll be upset. Not literally. But upset that he hasn't heard you sing him a lullaby or ever heard you sing first or at all. He would pout and want you to sing him a lullaby immediately.

When you do, he falls asleep on your shoulder while he was sketching so when he wakes up he thinks your secretly full Leumurian because he hasn't heard a beautiful voice like that years ago.

Sylus:

While Sylus was away on business, you let him know that you were busy taking care of your coworker's baby at your shared home. To be prepared, you had Luke and Kieran on standby in case you needed a break. When the baby began to cry, you swiftly picked them up, cradling them and singing a soothing song. Meanwhile, Luke and Kieran lingered in the hallway, and one of them decided to record your sweet singing and send it to Sylus, giggling as they did so knowing that he would love this.

As night fell and your coworker came to collect their baby, Sylus arrived shortly afterward. “Two little crows mentioned you can sing, sweetie. Is that true?” A blush spread across your cheeks, realizing that the twins had set you up once again. "I wish I could have been there to hear it myself. A video is not the same to hearing your mesmerizing voice in person."

Although he finds it amusing and adorable, he would ask if you could sing him a song to help him unwind because the business he dealt with was stressful. He wouldn't pressure you to sing him a lullaby but he would reassure you that your voice was already one of his favorite sounds already and nothing would ruin that.

That seemed to ease your worries, and as you both settled into bed, you let him unwind. You sang the same lullaby to him that you’d sung to the baby. Your gentle voice was incredibly soothing, wrapping him in a warmth and coziness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Despite his usual trouble with sleep, your voice made his eyelids grow heavy, a contented smile spreading across his lips as he drifted off.

It was no surprise that he loved hearing you sing and you having this skill made him think that it made you more beautiful to him than you already were.

[loversdelusions]

Sylus Translation error that I CANT FORGIVE

Link to reddit post:

Reading the Sylus translation project by user readsubtextually on reddit and yes, he is characterized differently. I am a little pissed about this.

I have many things to say about the little notes to his character that we miss out on in EN, but the one in Grassland Romance pisses me off so much. I love poetic, old words that go beyond just an emotion and I can't possibly describe my disappointment when seeing this:

In reference to "Do you have a lover?"

and then in reference to "I need to show them I already have a lover."

Reading this has made me feel vindicated. In Chinese, he seems to have a harsher exterior that we don't really get to see in EN, and a furious loyalty that he indicates only belongs to MC. Also, the way he speaks and the words he uses give a different characterisation that I am pissed they didn't do a better job of including. I have seen characters similar to this, and I am a bit confused by some of the choices they made. I really suggest reading this translation I think it makes things make a lot more sense. It certainly cleared up some misunderstandings I had when I first read through the story. I will definitely come back to this every time there is an update.

[livingformintyoongi]

yoongi fucking his girlfriend raw for the first time and her telling him to cum inside because she wants his babies

First time

a/n: as the request did not have many specifications I went straight to the point, hope you don't mind 😣. warnings: Breeding kink, a little bit soft, in fact there are not many warnings, it is quite soft. wc: 1.1k taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @zent9 @superbbananananana

"Shit" you moaned, squirming on your sheets as you felt Yoongi's fingers touch the exact spot that made the knot in your belly get tighter and tighter, although, come to think of it, it could also be due to Yoongi's tongue teasing your clit.

"I haven't done this in a long time" he whispered, straightening up as he pulled his fingers from inside you and licked them. During all that time he didn't take his eyes off you and your body. "Do you think you're lubed up enough to get my cock in?".

"Yes" you sighed, resting a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm your heartbeat. It wasn't very helpful, but at least you tried. You turned your head toward your nightstand, reaching your shaking arm toward the drawer to pull out a condom. You frowned as you felt Yoongi's hand stop you quickly, "What's wrong?" you turned to look at him, returning your arm to its place.

"It's just..." he scratched the back of his neck, grimacing with his mouth. His cheeks were barely tinged with a pastel pink color you'd seen once or twice when he felt too embarrassed, "could we, you know, do it without a condom? Only if you want to" he hastened to clarify, avoiding looking you in the eye.

"It's okay" you cupped his cheeks, caressing them gently, "we've been together for years, and I doubt that with one time anything will happen" you smiled at him as reassuringly as you could, hoping you could convey that feeling to him.

"God, I love you so much," he settled between your legs, moving down until he was face to face with you, "I don't think you can imagine how much I do," he kissed your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses running all the way from where he started to your bra.

"Then show me how much you love me" you whispered in his ear, hugging his neck and pulling him even closer to you. You shivered slightly as you felt his breath collide against your chest.

"Oh believe me, I will" he laughed softly, gently pushing the tip of his cock inside you. You both moaned before the skin to skin contact. It was your first time doing this, and although it felt strange, it was a sensation you definitely wouldn't regret feeling. "How is it possible that after all these years you're still so tight?" he growled over your collarbones, leaving a mark right in the center.

"Don't ask, just enjoy it" You tried to laugh, but were quickly interrupted by a lunge from Yoongi.

If there was one thing that characterized Yoongi in sex, it was that he would never start soft and gentle. He liked to go straight to his climax point, feel as much as possible in the shortest time and repeat it over and over again until he was satisfied. That was your Yoongi.

"Feels good" he murmured against your skin, pounding your pussy hard. A shit-eating grin appeared on his face as he heard you moan loudly the moment the tip of his cock hit your G-spot. He loved how you reacted every time he found that sensitive spot.

"Fuck" you brought your hands to his hair, pulling on it to keep yourself grounded. You let your head fall back, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lick, bite and mark your neck as he pleased. 

Yoongi moaned as he felt your walls clench around him tightly, clinging to your hips as if his life depended on it. It would probably leave marks, but he didn't care right now, neither you nor him.

"I love the feel of you squeezing my cock," he said as he closed his eyes and concentrated on increasing the speed of your onslaught. His hand gently caressed the marks he had left on your neck, causing a soft sigh to escape your lips.

"More" you moaned, moving your hands down from his hair to his shoulders, burying your deep red nails into his skin. 

"More?" he teased back, taking one of your legs and pulling it up his shoulder. You moaned loudly as you felt his cock go even deeper than it was before. "Shit, Y/N, you're so sensitive" he laughed, moving his hand down to your womanhood to take your clit between his fingers and play with it as he pleased.

You hunched your back to him, closing your eyes tightly. The knot in your stomach was becoming more and more unbearable and you weren't sure how much longer you could continue. "Yoonie" you whimpered between moans, looking up at him with misty eyes and dilated pupils.

"It's okay, it's okay, I've got you" he bent down a little, just enough to kiss your cheek, "do it as soon as you're ready."

You nodded awkwardly, starting to move your hips against his so you could get your long desired release. The moment you came your whole body trembled from the spasms, and you almost melted as you felt Yoongi embrace you as carefully as possible with the intention of regulating your body's movement. 

"That's it, fuck, you're squeezing me so good" Yoongi closed his eyes, concentrating on how good your tight, wet pussy felt. He was so immersed in the sensation that he almost forgot he wasn't wearing a condom. "Shit" he whispered, trying to get out of your pussy as quickly as possible. He moaned in surprise as he felt you imprison his hips with your legs. You still looked a little tired from your recent orgasm, but apparently you were determined not to let it out. "Honey, I'm going to come soon, I need-".

"Cum inside" you whispered, moving your hips against his, "I want you to come inside, I want to have your baby."

And that broke Yoongi for a few seconds. Only for a few seconds, because almost instantly he reacted and brought his mouth to yours in search of a desperate kiss. You gasped as you felt Yoongi's thrusts get deeper and stronger, and only moments later, you felt his cum spill inside you as you swallowed your boyfriend's moans with the kiss.

You both fell silent after finishing. You kept your eyes closed and your hand in his hair, he, for his part, had his head resting on your chest, caressing your waist with his fingertips. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" you whispered, giving a yawn. Fucking Yoongi always wore you out, even though he was the one doing most of it.

"We're going to need a lot more cum if you want a baby, you know that?" he chuckled above your ear, moving his hand down to your center, caressing your sensitive area.

You whimpered as you felt his intentions bump against your inner thigh, "We just finished."

"The night is still long" he nodded, kissing you passionately as he straightened back up on top of you.

He definitely wasn't going to let you sleep tonight.

Materlist.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

In Defense of Marinette

I like Marinette. While there are many valid criticisms of her writing, the same can be said for literally every other character and she's actually doing pretty well given that she's the main character. After all, in a show where consistent characterization is an ongoing issue, the one with the most screen time will probably be the one who's the biggest victim of the issue.

This is heavily exacerbated by the rule that supposedly governs Miraculous. Namely that, in each story, Marinette must make a mistake. Or, at least, so says the head writer:

I really do not care what this guy says on Twitter or anywhere else. I only care about what's in the show because, if you have to go outside the text to understand the text, then you have no idea how to tell a good story.

However, unlike many of the tweets that I've seen, this one isn't some BS bit of lore. It's a writing rule and it has substantial backing in the text. It's extremely rare to have an episode where Marinette comes out smelling like roses and that's a problem because Miraculous has over 100 episodes. In other words, to follow this rule, the writers have to come up with over 100 ways for Marinette to be wrong so of course she's going to come across poorly. Why would you do this to your main character?

It's extremely common for kids shows to have a "lesson of the day" element to them. Someone always needs to learn something, but I've never seen a show misunderstand the assignment so badly. Learning a lesson is not the same as doing something wrong.

It's been a while since I watched the 2010 version of My Little Pony, but it really leaned into that whole "lesson of the day" thing and it actually knew what it was doing, so I'm going to talk about it briefly to discuss things that Miraculous should have done.

The first thing to note is that MLP had an unambiguous main character - Twilight Sparkle - but Twilight was not the one who learned all of the lessons. She had a pet dragon and a crew of five friends who would, occasionally, be the ones to learn the lesson because there were lots of lessons that simply didn't fit Twilight's character. Instead of warping Twilight to make the idea work (cough cough Ikari Gozen cough), the writers just let someone else have the spotlight for a bit.

This is an excellent way to build out your cast and Miraculous had plenty of opportunities to do it. For example, Lila should not have been Marinette's issue. The fact that Lila hates Marinette could have certainly stuck around, but the one who takes her down and learns to investigate her sources? That should have been Alya. A liar is the perfect enemy for an investigative journalist, but a poor enemy for someone who shines as a battlefield commander and overthinks when she's given too much time.

Another way that MLP would teach lessons was to have someone other than Twilight or the main crew cause the issue that they then had to deal with. This leads to one of the best moments in children's television:

And, frankly? Marinette deserves a moment like this. That poor girl has been through hell and is never allowed to make the right call when it really matters. The show will even completely rewrite its lore to make her fail (see: Strike Back). That is such an awful thing to do to your lead! Shows about female empowerment should include women feeling powerful and, no, Lila and Chloe don't count!

Also, the show is literally about Gabriel taking advantage of people who are upset. You don't need to have Marinette make a mistake to shoehorn in a life lesson. Akumas are life lesson fodder and season 1 actually seemed to get this. I'm not sure why they switched gears to "Marinette is the star and, therefore, must always be wrong."

The final way that MLP taught lessons was to have Twilight do something wrong because having your main character do something wrong is a totally valid way to teach lessons. It just shouldn't be your only way because you know who is always wrong in children's media?

Villains.

They wrote Marinette like a villain.

And a large part of the fandom hates her for it because of course they do.

You're not supposed to like villains.