#ask yourself if there is any particular reason the character you created needs to be the gender you initially assigned them!

[chamerionwrites]

Somewhat more controversially - beyond just well-written characters, I think a lot of people find themselves repeatedly drawn to particular Types of characters. And I think the frequency with which those types appear, and the particular flavor of those types, is often (unnecessarily!) gendered. (Sticking with the espionage theme: it’s pretty difficult to find clever, calculating, socially astute female spy characters whose tradecraft doesn’t hinge primarily or at least very heavily on their sex appeal). TL;DR even very well-written female characters are often (unnecessarily!!!) confined to a much more limited set of narrative roles and archetypes.

And while I’m definitely not saying this is something we should all just accept completely uncritically, I do think it’s a pretty undeniable factor in why a lot of people’s lists of favorite blorbos might be kinda dude-heavy.

#as an aside one of the things I’m enjoying about bg3 is that there’s a lot of genderswapped archetype stuff going on w the companions #reading tag #also #fandom #my posts #like to be clear i think that as writers we should be the change we wish to see in the world #add depth and dimension to characters that canon did wrong by! genderswap some archetypes! #ask yourself if there is any particular reason the character you created needs to be the gender you initially assigned them! #but also i think it’s at least *slightly* more complex than people not engaging with characters just because they’re women #personally i have a weak spot for emotionally reserved/guarded characters who struggle with vulnerability and self-revelation #there is nothing inherently gendered about this and I can certainly name female characters that fit the mold! #but also surprise surprise: Socially Enforced Masculinity Norms And The Crushing Weight Thereof are a thing #and this is reflected in fiction. and in fictional dudes.

[figgrrr0]

heyyo!

(not me doing it wronf the first time sorry!!)

imagine tho

fem!/gn! reader cuddling with genshin men (alhaitham preferably) platonically and getting hard

like AIIDJWNWKS

I wasn't sure if this was like a friend or S/O situation, but I think this checks out. Hopefully.

They get hard while cuddling

Characters: Al Haitham, Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Heizou

Reader: Gn // Genre: Smut (suggestive) // No Cw.

Al Haitham

Al Haitham isn't much the type to talk unless it's needed. He prefers silence (hence the earplugs), so any time you're even just in the same room, to him, it passes as quality time. That being said, it wouldn't be impossible to convince him to snuggle up together during one of his reading sessions, so long as you promise not to disturb him too often.

Now, Al Haitham can go quite a while without having to change positions, so most likely – unless you fall asleep against him – you'll be the first to move. However, after multiple instances of this, for varying lengths if time, it was only natural that his body would betray him at some point.

He'd randomly gotten hard. For no particular reason. Maybe you'd "accidentally" brushed against his clothed cock at some point, but it really doesn't matter; now, he's stuck in this situation that is naturally quite embarrassing, even for someone who doesn't usually care about others' opinions. But this is you we're talking about, and Al Haitham does care about what you think of him, as subtle as he tries to be about it.

So, he does notice his unfortunate predicament quite early on. But, instead of leaving to... take care of the problem, he decides to just leave it as is and see what happens. Maybe it'll go down on its own, or maybe you won't even notice. Maybe something worse – or much better – will happen if/when you do notice. But he's not going to disturb how comfortable you are just for the risk of his own potential embarrassment. He'll deal accordingly with whatever outcome comes his way.

Xiao

Surprisingly, once he trusts you, Xiao isn't that hard to rope into cuddling up with you. However, it is quite hard to get him to stay. With the constant nagging in the back of his mind telling him to get moving, he can't help but be a little fidgety at times, sometimes even leaving when his debt gets a bit too overwhelming.

But, regardless of all this, Xiao will still find ways to show his gradual acceptance, and even craving, for your closeness. That may be him standing closer to you, seeking you out more often, or, eventually, even him being the one to ask you to huddle up together. At some point, it'll become something that he expects to happen, and on the odd occasion that it doesn't, he can't help but feel that something just isn't right. (You'll have to be the one to tell him that it's because he misses you).

Because of how new the physical touch that you're sharing is to Xiao, it'll obviously feel quite strange, to start off. This leaves plenty of opportunities for him to accidentally get hard while pressed up against you. The worst thing, – in his opinion – is that he doesn't even notice until one of you shifts to get into a more comfortable position. At first, he's kind of confused, until the realisation settles heavy in his mind, at which point he'll start working himself into a nervous frenzy; all while you're there just calmly enjoying yourself.

Not wanting you to have to deal with his "problem", Xiao will try to create some type of distance between you two. Whether it's just pulling away from you a bit, or trying to leave, depends on how conscious you are to his sudden odd behaviour. However, if you end up asking him about it, he'll instantly apologise, hesitantly explaining his accident (as if he can control it). However, no matter how much he wants to, Xiao won't leave until you've had enough time to decide how you want to proceed.

Scaramouche/Wanderer

How you managed to convince him to try this, even he doesn't know. But now that you've already trapped him in the optimal position for some warm, comfortable hugs... it's hard not to fall further into your embrace.

Scaramouche would be very tense upon feeling your touch at first, understandably so. He's never had much physical touch at all, let alone been in an environment where that would be a safe thing to welcome. So, he'd need you to be relaxed for him to be able to follow suit, gradually easing up in your proximity.

As soon as he notices the uncomfortable stiffness between his legs, Scaramouche would instantly feel awkward, inwardly hoping it would go away on its own. He doesn't like not being in control, especially of his own body, so this happening certainly doesn't make this unfamiliar situation any easier.

Of course, as always, Scaramouche would not be the first to point out what was happening. He'll hide the steadily rising embarrassment as his usual confidence, pushing the blame onto you and accusing you of purposefully grinding against him to get him hard if you call him out on it. He'll make half-hearted threats to keep you quiet, but overall, he wouldn't want to stop just yet. Not when he's just starting to get used to the feel of you being so close to him... It may be a lot harder to get him to agree to do this again, though. He'll need some extra reassurance.

Heizou

Used to being an observer, Heizou can be slightly uncertain with his movements when he's this close to you. He can find it kind of hard to shut off his detective brain at times, but once he gets used to it, he soon realises that holding you like this is the easiest way to get him to relax.

During these moments, Heizou likes to keep a conversation going. It's not always about something in particular, just whatever topic springs to mind. You don't even have to join in, if you don't want to; he's perfectly content just to let his mind wander and his words follow aimlessly while you listen.

Unfortunately, at some point, his thoughts will start to become sidetracked, suddenly focusing on the pressure of your body pressed so closely to his, especially... down there. Now, Heizou doesn't get embarrassed. Not in the slightest. Instead, he's annoyed.

Irritated by this turn of events, Heizou tries to ignore the hardness he feels. But, no matter how he shifts or how well he controls his voice, there's no way he'd be able to play this off. Of course, your comfort is the only thing on his mind at this point, so he'd be pretty open about it. Giving you some space and even making a small quip at his own humility, he tries to keep the friendly atmosphere flowing even as he leaves to take care of himself.

If you're not too put off by this, Heizou is totally up for more cuddles with you.

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

Thank you for reading! 🩷

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin al haitham #genshin xiao #xiao smut #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #heizou smut #Writing for an ask~🩷

[alicerosejensen]

Heyyyy hope you’re doing well!!

Please can you imagine Leon (re6) loosing his shit because they kidnapped his girlfriend and he’s like trying everything to get her back? Imagine him crying as soon as he gets to hug her again!😭

I'm fine as long as I have a laptop connected to the internet and food)

In fact, this is one of my favorite plot tropes, when someone is kidnapped, and the main character is ready to burn the whole world to the ground, but to find an expensive person.

Leon, despite his moral principles, I think he could have made many sacrifices. In particular, he would definitely lose his temper if he grabbed onto any thread to find his beloved. At least he didn't stand on ceremony with Patrizio.

Thus, there will be little left of the scoundrel who kidnapped his girlfriend.

Something constantly happens to the poor girl of Leon (either she runs away from him, or she is stolen from him). Sorry, I just love their relationship and Leon, who is ready to kill for his loved ones :D

I still know shit English, but enjoy it if you're interested.

Please read with extreme caution! There are mentions of physical violence, kidnapping and a maniac!Yandere

Leon is a little paranoid when it comes to protecting his loved ones, so most likely he will insert some tracking device into your phone or earrings to be sure that his beloved is safe.

He tries not to violate personal boundaries, but understands that his beloved is in potential danger in relation to him. Therefore, you are under additional invisible protection.

All you need to know is that Leon is not abusing his position as a federal agent. There is no surveillance on you, it's just that if something happens, he wants to have time to prevent it before the irreparable happens (or he goes on a binge again).

His heart sinks at the thought that he may lose you for some reason. Any encroachment into your personal space by outsiders who create discomfort for you make Leon enter the defender mode (aggressive if necessary). You should be safe.

Since Leon is known to a minimum of people about Leon's love interest, the risk is minimal that you will be harmed. At least Leon considered the threat from various corporations and bioterrorists. He didn't even think about the fact that there is some bastard stealing your things.

It was some little things: pencils, hair bands, a pocket mirror, lip gloss. Yes, you said something to him about it, but maybe you just dropped them out of your backpack?

He was calm exactly until you became too nervous. It seemed that you were afraid of something and called him a couple of times with a request to meet on the way home. Leon is not one of those who will refuse, but your behavior worries him.

And when you were walking home, Leon felt your painful grip on his arm.

His main priority is your well-being. "So tell me, pretty girl, what's going on with you?" Don't think I haven't noticed this nervousness.

He will be wary when he hears that someone is following you and dragging your things. Of course you could have lost them yourself, but the chiffon scarf that Leon gave you was the last straw. In addition, you showed him the abnormal love notes that someone constantly threw into your purse.

Outwardly, it did not affect him in any way, but the stingy "I'll deal with it" means a lot. The anxiety level has increased and Leon is worried that some kind of psycho might hurt you.

He often calls and asks if everything is in order and when you need to be picked up from college. However, when you don't answer the phone, everything dies inside him.

The moment he realizes that you have been taken away, a monster wakes up in him, which can bring down hell on your abductor.

His emotional state constantly fluctuates from constant fear for your lives bordering on panic to Ustanak whose task is to find you and finish off the son of a bitch who dared to take you away from him.

"No god will help this son of a bitch when I find him."

It's sad that you lost your phone on the day of the abduction and did not put on earrings. But a nice little bracelet will save you.

are a fucking goddess.

When you wake up, of course, you will be scared. However, you will try to intimidate the criminal by saying that he is so obsessed with you in vain. "Seriously, my boyfriend will come after me and gut you" You don't think Leon will kill anyone at all, so maybe your words don't sound too confident when the kidnapper's hand is stroking your head.

Do you panic when a fucking psycho says it's some kind of date? No one here hears your screams, you can't run away because you're handcuffed. You can't even go to the toilet on your own only under his control, and this causes you a deep psychological trauma. He brings you a fucking lilac, weaving thin twigs into your hair.

"Why me?" - This is the only question that is spinning in your head when you are hysterically pulling out purple flowers, throwing them away from you. - "Am I going to die here?"

You literally go crazy from the smell of dampness and lilac. Constantly shout Leon's name as if he can hear you and immediately breaking into a loud cry, banging on the walls and the locked door.

You're clearly getting claustrophobic.

While you're suffering, Leon is trying to track the fucking signal on one of your trinkets, but he's afraid that you left that day without any jewelry at all.

Claire is definitely one of those people who can talk some sense into Leon while he's looking for you. Considering that the bug gives a bad signal (or maybe your bracelet was damaged due to the fact that you constantly pull it from nerves) from the basement and your location is difficult to track, Leon has already yelled at Chris

You feel like a frog in formalin or even some kind of toy when your abductor brings you clean clothes, which you throw back to him. It's risky to make him angry like that and you really regret it when brute force is used to force you to change clothes.

Yes, then they "take care" of you, but you are already a cornered mouse. The purple marks on your skin and the marks from the handcuffs are now a reminder of who is in charge here.

And you hate that bastard more and more. Unfortunately, you have absolutely nothing to even hit him with. The food that he brings you in plastic dishes, as well as cutlery. You try not to eat, fearing that he might have mixed something in there, but you are forced by force.

It's been three days, and Leon hasn't found you. You feel like you're starting to go crazy until you hear a muffled noise from somewhere above.

All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants

All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants

Has anyone ever told you that you are not the luckiest person?

You tried to attack from behind when they stopped stroking you. It was risky and you failed because the kidnapper reacted before you swung to strike.

You were very painfully punished, left lying on the damp floor in a terrible state, all in tears and without an evening meal.

It's been four terrible days in your life. All because you fiddled with your bracelet too much, which turned out to be thrown away quite far from the place where you were, forcing Leon to go on a false trail.

You felt terrible. It didn't take long to break you. You no longer hoped to see daylight or your loved ones, so you crawled into the farthest corner curled up in a ball and cried.

Having lost track of time due to another fit of hysteria, you did not want to pay attention to the opening door and hurried steps in your direction.

Preferring not to pay attention to your enemy, you became even more hysterical when he tried to turn you around to face him, affectionately calling you "angel".

That's what infuriated you. But when you opened your eyes in another attempt to attack, you froze in disbelief at your own eyes. Have you already gone crazy in this place? So fast, or was Leon really in front of you?

His light blue eyes were dark. Not as bright as usual, but maybe it's because of the lighting… Strong hands carefully examined your body for the number of bruises.

You looked away in the direction of the open door - your freedom, but you felt Leon's fingers gently tracing over your split lips.

You've never seen such quiet hatred before. You were shivering from the cold, feeling that tears were still flowing down your cheeks, and tried to snuggle up to Leon in search of protection and warmth.

But Leon himself pressed you to him, slightly lifting up his T-shirt, checking for underwear. You flinched, and then you heard a single question when you grabbed his back with both hands, pressing your head against his chest.

"That son of a bitch…" - Leon gritted his teeth, still looking at your stolen things on the floor. - "I'll kill him"

The fuse clicked.

Leon took off his jacket, putting it on you (with great difficulty, because you did not want to interrupt close contact with him), and then easily picked up in his arms, like a small child, carrying out of this basement. You closed your eyes just to not see anything else. Leon's scent worked better than any strong sedative, and you wanted him not to let you go anymore.

So small. Defenseless. Bruised all over. He will kiss you on the temple, looking at the sprawled bastard with such a look that it will be clear how it will end. Leon will hand you over to Claire, despite your growing hysteria over the loss of hugs, and do what he has planned.

It's going to be pretty bloody. He expressed some regret about Patricio, but Leon will never forgive someone who hurt you, leaving a scar on your soul. So he'll empty the whole clip on him.

Because of this, he will have some problems, but you are the priority. You will undergo a full examination at the hospital, where Leon will be reassured (partially) that your violence ended with beatings. In general, there are no physical injuries, but both Leon and Claire understand what condition you will be in.

He will take care of you. Try to do everything so that you don't remember that four-day nightmare. He will find a good therapist, but if your brain decided to erase these memories on its own, a kind of protective reaction to stress, then it will even calm him down.

Leon understands the reason for your detached behavior. He is glad that you are not afraid to let him near you, thereby subconsciously making him your shield. he's ready to be one before you start trusting people again.

No one heard it, but Leon was really crying quietly when it was over. You were sleeping after taking a sedative dose, and he was sitting in the bathtub thinking only that he could not save you faster.

He won't touch you once again for fear of triggering some kind of trigger, but in your head it is Leon the hero savior. Therefore, if you are looking for protection in him, then it's even good, because this is how he hopes to redeem himself before you.

In the end, you are faced with dissociative amnesia. You realize that something terrible has happened, but you have a lapse in memory. Leon will be the one who will start distracting you from your memories by persuading you not to remember. He really considers it a gift of fate and will go out of his way so that you don't touch this moment of life at all, leaving him behind a black curtain.

And yet one day he burst into tears clutching to his chest. While you sleep next to him feeling completely safe, Leon will need to hug you tightly and come up with better ways to protect you. He feels guilty that he did not save you and this feeling of guilt will gnaw at him for a long time.

"I'm sorry… sweetheart, I'm so sorry… - what you hear in your sleep. - "Never again…no one will hurt you. Never."You don't remember a damn thing, but you're scared because Leon is crying kissing the top of your head.

He won't let anyone else take you away.

#leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #re #reader #resident evil headcanons #leon kennedy headcanons #headcanon #yandere resident evil

[gamerwoman3d]

A Land Before Time

🔞 An MK1 x Reader 🔞

▸ includes: Liu Kang [mk1 versions] F! Reader◂

Author's Note: This was based on a sex dream that I had, that I feel @genesiswrld SHOULD have had, because Liu Kang is hot but Bi-Han is my squishy. Not saying the dream was wasted on me, just that it was misplaced 😆

Female anatomy used.

Imagine for a moment that this New Era is real, and the existence that you're currently living is also real, and contains the New Era inside it as a game - but you find a technical way through the use of coding and quantum tech, to enter Liu Kang's New Era, “cool world” style, as something of a god/goddess.

Because you live in our shared reality, the one in which the game was created, you can in fact “code” the New Era into anything you like, within reason. But you have to get past the guardian. Liu Kang and Geras are gods there. But here, they are just characters, with Geras also partially functioning as a type of uncrackable password manager/encryption software. You can give your own self all sorts of powers to take into the New Era; but you can't change the core game unless you can get past Geras and Liu Kang.

You would either need their permission, or you'd have to force/brute force them to comply.

You can literally step from our world into the New Era and live there, immortal, with godlike power. And you do that. You use the code and give yourself the boosts you think you'll need to defend yourself if necessary.

Because you have the capacity to travel to any physical point in the timeline, as well as any temporal point in the timeline, you choose something you think will be easy to start. A time with fewer enemies, a time that you wanted to see in your own world, once.

🔞 Spicy/Explicit after the cut 🔞

When you first stepped through the portal into the New Era, the pristine sands beneath your feet were deliciously toasty. You could not help but to remove your footwear and sink your toes into the sand. The air here is pure, and filled with the strange buzz of unseen insects in the distance. The soft swirl of sand in the hourglass before you quieted. Without the hiss of sand, an absence of familiar noises from your past life became distinct; no motorcars, no hum of electronics, no trace of people, and a distinct lack of birdsong.

If you peer into the reflection of the hourglass over Liu Kang’s shoulder, you can see glimpses of early six-limbed proto-vaternians being gently guided into evolution in a neighboring realm. Liu loses his concentration on the sands as he sees you. Nothing devastating happens in the universe in that instance; there is simply a pause in the work.

Liu Kang knows immediately that you are not supposed to be here, standing before him and the hourglass.

He knows because he has not yet created humans.

Outside of the very meticulously kept garden that surrounds the hourglass, dinosaurs still rule this earth. Even birds have yet to grace the planet.

“How are you here? Or perhaps I should ask, are you truly here? Is it possible that even gods can still have dreams, or hallucinations?”

You tell him you are from a timeline before his own. You are older than his entire universe, older than Kronika, than Geras, older than the hourglass. And while you yourself did not create his universe, you were alive at the time it was conceived[1].

You tell him you shared a planet with, and walked among, the beings that created his universe. His universe is based on what your people knew of their own universe. Your feedback may or may not have influenced these creators; but you have some access to their same power of creation, and have come to use the hourglass to enhance his universe for yourself.

You came prepared to fight if necessary. Liu Kang would be very particular over who has access to the hourglass.

You may even fight a few rounds if you're curious to test your code enhancements - at least until he understands that you do have the power to control parts of his universe already, and the power to defeat him if he made it necessary. Through the encounter, he learns that you aren't lying about being from an even older timeline responsible for creating the hourglass.

But whatever it is that you want to change about the New Era, he likely won't let you without a fresh fight. And another fresh fight, and another, for every single little change you think you could want.

“We don't have to fight. We can compromise.”

For Liu Kang, it has been a lonesome existence, living out the creation of the new era in solitude. Geras can offer Liu Kang company in much the same way as an AI Assistant bot can offer a human company. But you know the depths of loneliness must be unbearable for a creator who is utterly alone in the universe across all of time. You know this, because even in your own world, the mythologies of all creator gods often began with the creation of people.

Even the gods of your own reality were so unbearably lonesome that they, in myth, created all of your ancestors, either for companionship or worship.

Your offer of company is accepted graciously, the moment he understands that you won't be withholding your companionship to exchange for the powers of the hourglass. But to settle conflicts over what happens in the hourglass, you both have an idea.

Gambling, games, and wagers. But instead of betting on who will win a physical fight between you both, you gamble on which of you can bring the other the most pleasure.

You're both seated in the zen garden, where the tropical heat has warmed the sand. Sheets of some soft fabrics are laid out in a manner similar to beach towels, allowing you both to walk and sit without burning your thighs or disturbing much of the sand.

He has a very smug “I know I've already won” look on his face the moment you suggested a contest based on sexual pleasure instead of kombat. You might think billions of years of being pent up would give you an advantage over him, but it doesn't; your customized form in this new era was generated anew when you stepped through the portal into his era. This particular body has yet to experience such pleasure at all, and will react, on a neurochemical level, at its most basic “code,” reacting the same as it would if falling in love for the first time. It will, in a nutshell, intoxicate you with want and pleasure, as if you yourself had never experienced it before.

But you didn't realize this. Your overconfidence proved your ignorance.

“You decide the winner. I trust your judgment will be fair. Or at least I don't trust my own judgment call to be unbiased,” you say.

Liu Kang smiles.

“A designated judge will be unnecessary,” he says, "I am certain we will both agree on who has won the challenge.”

He looks off in the distance before continuing.

“I would appreciate it though if we could choose some less intimate positions, at least at first. I'm still not over the grief of losing my dearest friend, and my beloved. I'm not sure how I might react, looking into the face of another, knowing I shall never have these moments with her. It isn't that I don't realize the finality of her destruction; but giving this kind of pleasure to another is a turning point that I may never be ready for.”

You slide closer to him and caress his shoulder, enough for him to feel your inner warmth.

“Grief is made of the same stuff as love. It's just the love-stuff that's leftover with nowhere to go,” you say.

He lays his head on your shoulder, pulls your hand to his cheek and tilts his face into it. Peace painted across the features of his face as he melted into your touch. His relaxation left you with an indescribable euphoria that deepened with each breath.

“Thank you for saying so. I feel more comfortable now, knowing that you understand,” he says.

“And I'm glad you said something. I like it when you tell me what you want. We can do this however you like. After all, this is a kontest for providing pleasure; not receiving it,” you said.

“Buy you will be receiving it,” he gloated, “and I shall be providing as much as you can possibly stand.”

“Ooh,” you teased, “Promises, promises! Hah, I like it. I feel good about you taking the lead, if you would?”

“Of course,” he said.

As he smiled up at the heavens, he closed his eyes and bit his lip. His eyes squeezed hard enough that the apples of his cheeks warped around the outline of his eyes. He took a deep breath that sounded as if he swallowed an antagonistic laugh.

“You aren't allowed to hate me when I show you how easy this is,” he said.

He turned his body towards yours, guided your body into facing away. You removed just enough clothing to feel his touch, to not hinder him from penetrating you if he chose. The fabric that you left over the top of your glistening pussy was delightfully thin and stretchy enough to move to the side in a pinch.

You spread yourself face down across the sheets of fabric. The warm sand below the soft fabric gave way, cushioned your ribs, and pressed its warmth up into your breasts.

He crawled on top. His weight on you pressed you slightly deeper into the fabric-covered sand. The heat and weight of his muscular legs across the backs of your thighs alone was enough to make you crave completion. But then, his clothed erection pressed against the cleft of your pussy until your slit pinched around the thin fabric. He slotted himself into the fold of fabric and held you there, wedged between the hot sand and his heated, immovable body. You squirmed into him, only to discover that you couldn't move if you wanted to, with your legs pinned to the sand.

You turned your face to the side to look over your shoulder at him. He wore a smug expression as he looked down at you.

You could feel your clit throbbing against… the hot sand? or his shaft. You could not tell. Both were equally firm and toasty.

He was hard. Slotted against the fabric, he nudged his erection firmly against you, the head nestling between your folds to swipe against your clit. His breath deepend, you could feel the air from his nostrils against your neck, just below the ear.

Against your back, you could feel his chest expand and cinch with each breath. You were caught in heat, trapped between his muscles and the sand. You liked this, being at his mercy. He rested his chin on your shoulder and huffed, resting his entire weight on you as he hunched. The cock knocking repeatedly against your throbbing clit had you squirming, whining, whimpering as you held your squeals of pleasure in. He ran one hot palm along your side. He caressed and groped your glute before freeing his cock from its cage of fabric. He hooked a finger around the strip of stretchy fabric above your mound and slipped it to the side.

The bare cockhead slipped between the fabric and your clit. Liu Kang let the fabric snap back into place, catching against the bottom of his shaft. Your pleasure built up as he rolled his hips and frotted against you, fucking the gap between your panties and your clit.

You balled your fists, grabbing handfuls of sand through the fabric sheets. He repositioned slightly so that you could feel the wet swiping of his heated cockhead against your clit more intensely. Your fingers came undone from the fabric and all ten digits splayed out in a fan shape as your quiet whimpers suddenly broke into a muffled outcry of pleasure.

His hands found yours. He covered the tops of your hands with his palms and threaded his fingers between yours, gripping each hand with interlaced fingers. You felt the tips of his fingers curl past the webbing between your digits to press against the insides of your palms. He pressed your hands, and his, to the sand, to pin them where he wanted them - where you could push back into him, but not escape. Not that you'd want to.

Your skin tingled anywhere he touched it, and the skin where the pads of his fingers glanced against the inside of your palm, threaded along the webbing of your fingers, was exceptionally sensitive in a way that made you feel safe, loved, cared for deeply, and connected.

The warm weight of his body on yours made you feel safe, while the cock massaged between your pussy lips. His thrusts massaged them open without penetration until you could feel every fiber of yourself unwinding, melting into the sand.

You looked back at him, only to see that he was still gazing at the side of your face, waiting for you to open your eye. His smug, slight smile never left his visage. He squeezed your hands with a pleasant pressure, as if he were wringing them out. You realized in that moment that you were swollen inside, and quivering at the entrance.

Then he stops moving, intentionally. You feel him, all over you, weighing you down, trapping you in the imprint of fabric in the hot sand. You feel your heavy, puffy cunt lips throbbing against his stationary cockhead. You're sensitive as fuck. Even your heartbeat rocks your clit against his cock too much.

He breathes. He breathes out through his nose, his gentle panting breath trickles underneath your ear, down your neck. His chin follows, as he rests it in the crook of your neck with his jaw at your shoulder. His skin just feels like skin, yet you're electrified by it. You're so sensitive in your new form. He could stay like this all day. You cannot. He knows. You know he knows.

You know because when you look at him, his unchanging, stoic “I told you so” smirk is so purposefully calm, that you could consider it antagonistic. Even just this look he gave you had you dripping wet for him, to say nothing of the thick smooth, hot cockhead nestled against your clit, or the warm shaft that your heavy, fevered wet pussy lips spread themselves over. You give a defeated cry of pleasure and gave in. You tap out against the sand, to tell him he's already won, and he responds by firming up his grip on your hands and moving in for the kill. He devours your neck as he nudges your clit around and fucks you, alternating between the two activities until you cum beneath him.

Your orgasm does not slow him down. He slips his cockhead against the fluttering entrance of your cunt and pauses, as if testing something, as if something changed. The slick hole winks against him and he sinks inside to stay.

“You're so creamy after you've cum,” he purred.

His cock feels amazing, warm and firm and deep, exploring inside you. He pressed it past a spot inside you where the pressure feels so good that you feel you might die unless it, that spot in particular, is beat to hell. He pressed past it, but drew back, stroking slower and deliberate against this inner spot. You felt a sudden dying urge to feel him hammer his cock into this weak spot inside you. The change in your whimpers gave you away.

“This little spot right here is particularly velvety,” he said, “it's just gooey… no. Buttery. Right here.”

He let his cockhead glide against the spot in several slow deliberate strokes for emphasis. You groaned brokenly into the sand and bucked back into him. You had chills. You had goosebumps even on the hot sand. He held and pinned your elbows to your sides. Your nipples stood erect beneath you, the tips ground into the fabric as you bucked backward into him. He paused, held you down, let you rock and buck until the fit of passion washed over you, and you could still yourself. He didn't shush you. He just pulled back until his cockhead hovered a hair away from that sweet spot and he waited for you to collect yourself. You caught your shuddering breath, but couldn't look at him without feeling like you might cum again. You looked, and groaned deep. He acknowledged your desperation.

“I'm going to start fucking that velvety, buttery spot now,” he whispered toward your ear, “I do not know when I'll stop.

Scream if you need to. I've yet to create a single person that could hear you.”

His cock pinpointed that part within you that most yearned for it the instant he buried it in you. He pressed himself against it and wrung you out. You felt it as your own cum for him seeped out, dribbled down onto the fabric and soaked through the fabric into the sand.

Every stroke is devastating. You're loud as fuck and no one else can hear it. The skies open up and it rains on the two of you, mostly upon his back. Judging by his gentle moans, the rain itself seems to give him pleasure as the droplets hiss against his back, only to turn into steam. You could swear that you're causing it, that this rain is your rain. Suddenly you are cumming because it is raining, and it is raining because you have cum. When your palms tremble, he re-interlaces his fingers with yours to squeeze your hands in his, wringing you out, wringing out your anxiety, wringing out your pleasure, and possibly wringing out the very act of rain itself from the sky above. You couldn’t explain it, but somehow you knew.

You became the rain. And the rain became you. The rain became a goddess, and the goddess was you. The wetter he made you, the more the world flooded. He had no intention of going easy, but you found yourself clenching, squeezing, sucking him in, working yourself against his body as he worked you apart with his.

“That's it,” he huffed, “now, you're getting it.”

His breath grew ragged.

He said, “Rain.”

You nodded, not fully understanding.

“Rain on me,” he said.

Your eyes widened. He knew. You knew he knew. Rain pummeled your bodies in a deluge as you felt, not just the tension of your body snap, but the tension of your sudden ascent to godhood burst into creation, almost as a miniature version of the big bang. Untold energies from deep within your soul burst forth and spread out in all directions, spreading your power throughout all the realms, both giving you power over all the rains in the entire universe, and giving the entire universe the gift of your rains.

But you couldn't focus on the sensation of becoming a god, as Liu Kang fucked another blinding orgasm from you. This time, his composure cracked, and he came screaming with you in tandem, hot against you, his inner flame temporarily quenched by the deluge of your pleasure. The two of you thrashed against each other with abandon, riding out your pleasure together, before collapsing boneless into the soaked fabric atop the muddying sands.

The rains subsided gradually as the two of you caught your breath. You moved to roll over, and Liu rolled off of you onto his rain-soaked back. He closed his eyes and let the pitter-patter of the rain wash over his body, cooling him, turning to steam in the air around you both. You rolled onto your back beside him, then onto your side to drape yourself around him.

“Wow,” you said between heavy breaths.

“...Yeah,” he replied, still panting.

When you caught enough of your breath to speak full sentences, you could only think to ask one question.

“Did you just make me a fucking rain goddess?” You asked.

He nodded and laughed.

“You didn't think I'd let the first hot sex in my new era be mediocre,” he said.

“Holy fuck though,” you said.

‘Literally?” he teased.

“Okay yeah literally, but I'm starting to think I won that one,” you said.

He just closed his eyes and smiled.

“Okay wise guy, who won?”

He bit his lip and jerked his thumbs towards his chest, gesturing to himself.

“Ugh. You're impossible. Round two!” You demanded.

“You're losing this one too,” he said.

He rolled on top of you and peppered you with kisses. He promised you a second round, and a third - if you survived the second.

But first he needed to check progress in the hourglass. You peered into it with him and saw proto-vaternians in their pre-paleolithic era. A group of them surrounded a cairn, upon which sat a strange skull decorated with stones and feathers. You asked Liu Kang what it was; he told you it was a representation of you. You were the very first art, the very first goddess. You were the first to collect worship and be created in such a manner. You arrived in the new era just in time. The ancestors of the Vaternians had just created and worshiped their first god, which happened now to be you.

Had it not been for your intervention, Liu Kang would have been forced to grant this worship to the one you knew as Rain.

[To be continued.]

[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]

[Need more Liu Kang smut? Check the Choose Your Own Adventure, below!]

#mortal kombat #liu kang mk1 #liu kang imagine #liu kang x reader #liu kang fanfic #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #liu kang x you #liu kang x y/n #no beta we die like outworld empresses

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 4

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. ------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

Feel free to read this on AO3 if it is more comfortable for you due to its length. I only ask to support me with a like and reblog if you enjoy my work. ☺️

Author's note: Another long chapter, what is new! Things for the Reader are finally taking a good turn, with a new life at the horizon. I want her relationship with Sanji to develop properly and in the most realistic way possible, but I can pretty much confirm that, in the next update, a kiss will finally take place.

The Baratie was delivering more than a memorable meal on a casual night. In fact, you were set on crossing paths with Sanji again, perhaps even as a part of his team.

Despite your genuine intention to resolve matters at home, a whole week passed, and yet, you hadn't mustered the courage to approach your parents' door.

Mari had welcomed you into her home for as long as you needed, urging you to extend your stay until you felt sufficiently prepared to face your father's wrath. However, the harsh reality was that you would never truly be ready, as you had been grappling with this problem since you were born.

Sleep was elusive. The anxiety of potential repercussions gnawed at your insides, considering your father's unpredictable nature and the fact that he could orchestrate any form of punishment as long as it guaranteed your compliance.

"I'm telling you, just take your time. Rushing it would only backfire," Mari advised you, as you found it difficult to even consume your meal.

"I know, but I can't keep hiding here just to avoid them.”

She exhaled deeply. "I understand, but you should at least devise a reasonable plan.”

You grumbled in response. "A plan? Mari, no plan can shield me from my father's fury. I rejected the Admiral's son, and he considered it crucial to hand me over for his political gain. It's all a business transaction to him.”

"What kind of father treats his own daughter as a mere business asset?”

"Apparently, mine does.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

You shook your head, standing up and beginning to pace to and fro. "The problem is, there's no escape for me. If I confront him, he might just lock me in and force me into marriage. If I flee, he would most certainly hunt me down.”

Mari shrugged. "You could always seek refuge at the Baratie. You seemed quite at ease there, and you've even made a rather special friend.”

You attempted to disregarded her suggestive wink. "It’s the first place my father would take into account, and the last thing I want is for him to create a commotion and hassle the staff there.”

"But they could defend you. The head chef used to be a pirate, and you told us how Sanji gave Nutty a good thrashing. Honestly, that guy is fit as heck.”

“Mari.”

"Hey, I'm serious! Perhaps your judgment is clouded, but mine isn't. We all noticed the chemistry between you two. Sanji is genuinely interested in you, and with his strength and agility? Girl.”

It was difficult for you to ignore the blush creeping onto your cheeks at the thought. "That's not the issue here. I don't want to burden him more than I already have.”

She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, fine. I tried. Do it your way. But remember how long it took you to finally stand up against that jerk. I'm concerned for you, you know?”

You smiled. “I know.”

"All I'm suggesting is that you should stay here for at least another week. We can brainstorm a solution together.”

You were about to nod in agreement, when a forceful knock on her front door startled both of you. You pivoted towards Mari, straining your ear to determine if the person outside had mistakenly approached the wrong house.

"Were you expecting someone?" You asked her. "Did you invite the others?”

You immediatly felt apprehensive as you noticed her tense up in the distinct way she did when something was off. The knocking continued, more insistent than before, and somehow, a part of you already foresaw what was about to occur.

"I didn't," she responded. "Stay here.”

Mari dashed to the entrance, alert and clutching her gun as she moved. You heard the sound of the door being unlocked and creaking open, followed by her cautious, distant voice and another that was painfully familiar to you.

So familiar, in fact, that it sent a chill through your veins as soon as you heard it.

“Where is she?”

Your blood ran ice cold.

"I have no idea who you're referring to, sir," Mari replied indifferently.

"There's no need for you to hide her, she's been spotted here. Step aside, immediately.”

Your father's authoritative tone was unnerving. Even in someone else's home, he had the audacity to behave like a Marine when, in truth, he was a nobody. He leveraged his high-status acquaintances and associates as his safety net, confident that he had someone to turn to in times of need. He considered himself supremely important, treating everyone else as an inferior citizen with no significant rank.

Primarily your friends.

But Mari, being the strong-willed person she was, undoubtedly didn't feel intimidated.

"Nope, that's not going to fly with me. This is my place, so I suggest you just get lost and go hassle someone else.”

You heard the sound of the gun being cocked, and at that moment, you realized you couldn't remain idle. You were deeply indebted to her, aware that she would go to extraordinary lengths to ensure your safety and happiness. But as brave and robust as she was, and as much as you valued her protection and the zeal she invested in everything she did for you, the last thing you wanted was for her to bear the burden of your father's blood on her hands and land herself in trouble.

And despite the nature of your relationship with the man, you harbored no desire to see him meet his end.

You swiftly moved towards the door, your heart hammering in your chest as you saw her standing in the entrance, effectively barricading it.

"Mari, it's okay," you stated coldly. "I'll be fine.”

Your friend scarcely turned her head, not wishing to lower her guard in the presence of your unfazed father.

"No, Y/N. This man has wrecked your life. How 'fine' can you possibly be?”

Your father laughed boisterously. "Wrecked her life? I've only ever done what's best for her. But I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”

"How is arranging your daughter's marriage to a man she hates in her best interest?!”

It might have appeared almost comical, considering how his face was reddening and puffing up. You wished for nothing more than to see him back down and entirely give up on you, but you were aware that he wouldn't leave you alone when his personal benefit was at stake.

"Mari, that's enough," you said softly. "You're incredible and I love you, but I'll handle it from here.”

You could see her hesitance, her eyes darting back and forth, barely budging from the doorway. You gently squeezed the hand that was still clutching the gun, so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

Eventually, she dropped her shoulders and stepped aside to let you pass. "If anything happens to her," she began, casting a threatening glance at your father. "I swear, high status or not, you'll regret ever being born.”

"Watch your language, you impertinent child. I would never harm my own daughter."

"Yeah, because she's a crucial pawn in your schemes, right??”

Before he could delve further into the argument, you nudged him away. "Let's just go, please.”

You whispered a quiet "thank you" to Mari, and all your friend could do was exhale a frustrated sigh as she saw the man take a firm grip of your upper arm. You knew she wasn't the type to sit still, and there was a strong possibility that she might rally the rest of the group to follow you and keep surveillance outside your family's home.

That thought alone provided some solace, because no matter how strenuous things with your father might become over time, you knew you had a reliable support network in those good-hearted people. Your only regret was that it took so many years for you to understand that you couldn't continue letting your parents make decisions for you, simply because you yearned for their acceptance, their love, and to finally receive the decent treatment you deserved.

It was painful, and undeniably hard to accept, but that was something they were incapable of doing.

Your father was visibly enraged, not uttering a word to you during the journey. The way he was practically dragging you around was predictably filled with ire, and all you could do was respond to the onlookers' stares with a reassuring smile.

Deep down, though not really that deep, you found it absolutely mortifying, disheartening, and miserable.

Upon reaching your family's house (because you could no longer consider that place your home, it never truly was), he flung the door open. "Get in," he barked, roughly shoving you inside.

You stumbled and had to steady yourself with the back of the vacant chair at the head of the table. Your mother sat to the left, with Christopher to the right and Admiral Wheeler directly opposite you.

The atmosphere was thick with tension, your mother nervously cutting her piece of bread without even casting a glance your way, while your former fiancé's neck and jaw were rigid with stress. The admiral, on the other hand, seemed more puzzled and intrigued than anything else.

Somehow, perhaps due to your escalating nervousness, the whole situation elicited a chuckle from you as you took your seat. Your father occupied the empty chair next to his wife, and Chris immediately turned to you with a swollen, patched-up nose.

Unable to contain your enjoyment, you asked mockingly, "How's your face?"

His response was utterly foreseeable.

“Go to hell, bitch.”

“Christopher Wheeler.”

The admiral's voice was surprisingly booming, startling everyone present.

"What?! She started it!”

His father grunted, lightly smacking his hand against the table and causing his glass to vibrate on it. "How old are you, 12?”

It was unusual and somewhat unexpected, as the Admiral usually maintained a neutral stance, seldom intervening unless it was to make a joke. Somehow, you got the impression that he was taking your side for the first time, but you didn't want to deceive yourself with something that could simply be a product of your imagination.

Chris lowered his gaze, muttering a curse under his breath. Your mother's hands trembled with agitation, while your father cleared his throat to commence his speech.

"Admiral, I believe my daughter owes you an apology," he declared. "I'm certain this is all just a misunderstanding and she will come to her senses.”

The man leveled his gaze at you, expectation clearly etched in his eyes, yet remarkably devoid of any irritation. “Is that so?”

You sighed, feeling positively incensed and not in the mood to hold back. "No. I am perfectly sane.”

With a growl, your father took a deep breath, making an effort to recollect his composure. Sensing his tension, your mother tenderly grazed her fingers against his wrist, doing the best she could to defuse the situation.

"She's not serious. Y/N merely panicked when your son proposed to her, nothing more.”

With a look of disgust, you shifted your attention to your father. "May I remind you that you're not in my head.”

He nonchalantly brushed you aside with a dismissive wave of his hand, anxiously awaiting the Admiral's response.

Nevertheless, the Marine kept his focus directed at you, narrowing his eyes as though wanting to perceive something that you couldn't quite put into words.

"Perhaps she should speak for herself," he suggested.

Your father was left dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open as he glanced back and forth between you and the Admiral.

A slight smile appeared on your face. "At least someone values my opinion.”

The admiral gave a nod of his head, which threw Christopher into a state of discomfort.

You had no intention of holding yourself back. "He slapped me. Are we truly going to overlook that?”

Christopher coughed, squirming in his chair like a mouse caught in a trap.

"Hold on, what? Is that the truth, son?”

“W-well…. uhm….”

Admiral Wheeler released a sigh of defeat, shrouding his face with his large hand while incessantly shaking his head.

“I was angry!”

Frankly, you expected your former fiancé to deny it, to pretend innocence and claim that you were spinning stories for self-defense, all while maintaining the facade of a noble and respectful man. However, in the end, he appeared so inconsequential and weak that it evoked pity in you. He seemed to crave his father's approval, reflecting the same longing you nurtured towards yours for a very long time.

The Admiral pronounced your father's name with such severity that it made both him and your mother wince. "I'd like to have a word with your daughter. In private.”

Your father was visibly panicking, for things were veering in a direction he hadn't predicted. "Uhm, well you see.... I don't think that's a good ide-”

“I insist.”

The Marine's face was marked by a large grin, yet it was so strained and intimidating that it managed to scare even you.

Ultimately, your parents had no choice but to comply, sinking back into their seats like two frightened children. You had never seen them appear so distraught.

"Y/N, would you mind accompanying me to the kitchen?”

The noticeably softer way in which the Admiral addressed you was disarming, yet you appreciated it all the same.

As he rose from his chair and ambled away, the silence that enveloped the main room was deafening. You promptly followed him and closed the kitchen door behind you, feeling a bit uneasy as you had never really established much familiarity with the Admiral.

Mr. Wheeler settled in comfortably, exhaling a relaxed breath and signaling for you to join him. Heeding his gesture, you took a stool next to him, the flickering fire in front of you, your gaze resting on the chicken being prepared.

At the current pace, you were sure it would end up burnt, but you found yourself lacking the energy to make a comment on it.

"Sir, I apologize for dragging you into this," you finally voiced. "It wasn't my intention to disrespect you or your son.”

He arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Do you think I wanted to speak with you because of that?”

“That’s not it?”

"No, my dear. I am actually interested in understanding how you truly feel. It's evident that you don't wish to marry my son. Thus, I'm curious as to why you adhered to your father's directive up until this point?”

Your eyes dropped to your hands, your chest constricting with emotion. "Because I wanted to make him happy."

He hummed thoughtfully. "Even if it implies condemning yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness?”

"It's pathetic, isn't it?”

"No, Y/N. It's not.”

For some reason, his unexpected kindness brought tears to your eyes, and you found yourself suppressing a sob of despair that rattled you to your core.

"In reality, I am the one who owes you an apology.”

You sniffled, wiping your forming tears away. "Why is that?”

"For all this time, I merely stood by in silence, permitting your old man to do as he pleased. I considered him a valuable asset, given his extensive network and the wealth of information he has access to.”

You listened in silence, engulfed in the grief you had suppressed for far too long.

"I've been observing you. I assumed you would object, as your expression suggested you were not in agreement with his instructions, but then you never did.”

Your attention was fixated on the flames consuming the chicken, which was now assuming a questionable dark hue.

"Eventually, I convinced myself that I was wrong, that you willingly chose this path and had your unique way of expressing it. I never truly took your feelings into account, I remained silent, and didn’t step up to protect you.”

"You weren't obligated to look out for me, Admiral," you asserted.

"No, but you were on track to become a part of my family. Under the assumption that you would marry my son, I should have shown more consideration.”

"What changed, then?"

"You did. The night we dined at the Baratie, I noticed something in you that wasn't present before. You looked so heartbroken… so out of place. And for the first time, you snapped.”

You recollected the way your father treated you that night, so disrespectful, demanding a level of submission you were no longer willing to exhibit.

"It was rather amusing, truth be told. I witnessed you finally standing up for yourself, and your father was unable to control that.”

Your lips trembled as you managed to summon another smile for him.

"You see, when my wife passed away, I pledged to my son that I would be a good parent, to prevent him from feeling any sense of deprivation growing up," he elaborated. "But I made a grave mistake; I ended up spoiling him, granting his every wish. I even facilitated his career progression because I knew he aspired to follow in my footsteps.”

While Admiral Wheeler typically radiated confidence, strength, and composure, he now seemed like an entirely different person. The man sitting beside you was vulnerable, sensitive, and laden with flaws that made him a bit more human. Just like you.

"When I recognized that he had become self-centered and excessively prideful to the point of discomfort, it was too late. I could no longer influence his character.”

"Admiral, I may not like your son, but Christopher has some redeeming qualities too.”

"I appreciate your intention to assuage my guilt, but there's no need to defend him. Never did I teach him it was acceptable to lay a hand on a woman.”

"I wasn’t exactly nice to him. I’m not saying that I deserved it, it’s just…”

He tenderly squeezed your shoulder in a paternal way. "No, there's no excuse for what he did. And I'm extremely sorry you had to endure all of this."

There was so much you wanted to convey, but despite the immense effort to organize your thoughts, the only thing that managed to escape your lips was a simple "Okay.”

"Just tell me something, Y/N, and please answer honestly. Do you believe I can trust your father?”

His question took you by surprise, but it was clear to you that by that point, the Admiral had grown deeply doubtful of their partnership.

For a brief moment, you deliberated whether it was appropriate to reveal the truth to him. Perhaps, if this had happened just a few weeks earlier, you might have felt unable to do so.

But as the Admiral had pointed out, you were no longer the same.

"From a professional standpoint, he excels at what he does, and he holds a significant amount of knowledge that could be advantageous to you.”

“But?”

You pursed your lips together, constructing the most persuasive sentence possible to convince him.

"But I don't believe he's trustworthy. You've seen what he tried to do with me; he shows no qualms when it comes to his own interests.”

He affirmed with a tilt of his head. "Seems like I squandered my time on such a greed-driven mastermind.”

“I’m sorry.”

"Don't be. If anything, I came to this realization before it was too late.”

He pushed his chair back and stood up, switching off the fire and waving his hand to dissipate the building smoke. The chicken was undeniably overcooked and much too charred to be edible. What a waste.

“Well, this room now reeks.”

In a fit of genuine amusement, the admiral returned to your side, giving you a supportive pat on the back as he did so.

"You know," he admitted, " You've always been superior to anyone else in my circle. You exude honesty and innocence; everything you do is heartfelt, even in moments when you're not fully aware of it.”

Ironically, the praises you had wished for from your own family were now being bestowed upon you by the man they chose to be your father-in-law.

“Part of me harbored the belief that you could change my son, turn him into a better man, and succeed where I have failed,” he admitted. "But the reality is, he would only end up shattering you.”

As the smoke dissipated through the open window, it unveiled the chicken that looked defeated, drained, and consumed. A mirror image of how you had felt for too many years.

"I want to make amends, Y/N. I understand that I'm not your family, but I believe your parents aren't the best figures to look up to. Should you ever require anything, absolutely anything, don't hesitate to approach me.”

Unconsciously, a sigh of relief escaped from you. The knowledge that you had an ally, someone as influential and impartial as he was, brought a measure of consolation, however slight.

"Thank you, Admiral. Your words carry great significance for me."

Reflecting on the intimidation you experienced the first time you laid eyes on Admiral Wheeeler, you found it mildly amusing now. Your worry was unfounded, as a powerful wave of confidence swept over you, bolstered by the man’s reassuring presence.

At that point, the prospects could only get better. After all, once you've hit rock bottom, there's no direction left but upwards.

You had emerged victorious.

After a lifetime of living in fear, enduring criticism and subjugation, you had finally triumphed in your battle against your family.

Admiral Wheeler had officially cut all professional ties with your father, which resulted in the latter exploding in rage, blaming you for being a complete catastrophe and ruining his career. However, this time, regardless of the aggression he unleashed, you didn’t even flinch. You allowed him to vent while you calmly sipped your tea, also taking satisfaction in how his former partner chastised him, forcefully ordering him to leave you alone and treat you with respect.

But it didn’t stop there. The Admiral chose to demote his son effective immediately, compelling him to regain his position without any form of favoritism. Your ex-fiancé was seething, on the brink of desperation so intense that you believed he might succumb to tears any moment. He glanced at you as if you were the most repulsive creature he had ever encountered.

And you were thoroughly gratified.

With most of your belongings already stowed away in your secret stash, there wasn't much you needed to retrieve from your old room. You happily left all those incredibly uncomfortable clothes untouched, as you were mainly focused on collecting a few leftover books.

Now that the Admiral and his son had left, the house fell into silence, and you found your parents in a state of utter defeat, staring blankly at the floor as you stepped into the living room.

You observed them to gauge whether they had anything additional to contribute to their ceaseless list of insults, but it appeared they no longer had the energy to even try.

Quietly, you moved towards the door, holding your bag and wrapping your hand around the handle. But before you could open it and step outside for the very last time, you felt the need to voice your feelings, despite knowing they would likely take no effect.

“You know, things could have been different. If you had treated me like a daughter rather than a tool from the moment I was born, I could have truly added value to this family.”

Your father grunted, shaking his head to dismiss your argument.

"I understand you wanted a son, dad. I apologize for not being the one you had hoped for.”

He looked away, and your mother wrapped her arms around herself, releasing a deep sigh.

“You've enslaved me and molded me into a submissive echo of a person. I've done nothing but strive to please you, to provide what you desired. But in the end, it was never enough.”

He was about to retaliate, but this time, your mother took his hand and signaled him to restrain himself.

And so, you persisted undeterred.

"I wish I could say that I hate you, but despite how much you've hurt me, I can't deny that I still love you after everything.”

Your words appeared to deliver a potent message, akin to an arrow hitting dead center. However, you didn't let their sudden discomposure detain you any longer. 

Most likely, they were simply wounded in their pride more than anything else.

"But, as much as I'd like to erase the past, the fact remains that I won't be able to ever forgive you.”

Your mother bit her lower lip, and your father appeared to hold a similar degree of resentment. Certainly, you didn't expect him to envelop you in his arms and plead for a second chance, but the prioritization of his status over his own flesh and blood inflicted yet another painful wound to your heart.

"I wish you a good life.”

Your grip on the bag's strap tightened, and without a single backward glance, you thrust the door open to be welcomed by the evening air, with the final rays of the setting sun fading on the horizon. 

And by your friends, who were patiently leaning against the wall of your family’s house, prepared to step in at any given moment if necessity arose.

Your parents made no effort to hinder you. They neither called out your name nor insisted that you remain. 

Everything had come to an end, and you were completely freed from the chains that had kept you trapped in a lifelong nightmare from which you had finally awakened.

"What are you going to do now?" Rory asked as she sat on the couch with you. "I'm glad you're finally free from that despot, but technically, you're now homeless.”

"No, she is not. I have plenty of room here, she can stay with me,” said Mari.

You chuckled, sitting up straight. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think I'll be sticking around in this town.”

They all froze on the spot, staring at you as if they had just seen a ghost.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Marlo asked.

"Well, at least for the immediate future. I'm not entirely sure where I'll end up eventually, but... there's something I really want to do now.”

Your friends shared a knowing look with each other, immediately emitting a satisfied, mischievous 'Ooohh.’

"Wait, guys, it's not what you think.”

"Really?" Rubio sat on the opposite side of the couch, nudging you with his large elbow. "So you're not going to tell us you're heading back to the Baratie for that chef-guy?”

You rolled your eyes. "It's not exactly like that. Well, not entirely.”

"Aha!”

"I'm serious! He's not the primary reason, I still owe them for the chaos that Christopher created.”

Mari rested her hand on her chin, pondering aloud. "You know, that's not a bad excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse!”

Marlo snickered. "Yeah, and I'm a fish-man. Come on, we know you all too well.”

At times, they could be exasperating, but without a doubt, they had a better understanding of you than you did of yourself.

"Okay, fine. I admit I do want to see him again... but there's something about the Baratie that I can't quite put into words.”

Rory's expression brightened. "Wait, you want to work there?”

"Maybe? I am contemplating it. I need to compensate them for the wasted food and damaged tableware.”

Marlo nodded. "That makes sense, but it might only be for a short time. How much do you think that stuff was worth?”

Mari started to mentally tally up. "Well, their cuisine is of high quality and not exactly the cheapest. The tableware may not be particularly expensive, but they ended up with at least two plates and two glasses to replace.”

“Let's not forget about the tablecloth to wash,” you added.

Rubio gave a nonchalant shrug. "So maybe a week or less?”

“Most likely, yes.”

You exhaled a sigh. "Guys, this is just a hypothesis. I'm not even certain they would allow me to work there at all.”

Mari shot you a wild, excited grin. “But you have an inside connection.”

"Indeed! Sanji would definitely put in a good word for you," Rory chimed in.

The enthusiastic way they encouraged you was simultaneously embarrassing and thrilling. Their backing prompted a hearty laughter from you as they all gathered around, embodying the spirit of the close-knit family they represented.

Thus, as Mari was delineating the specifics for your formal employment request, she assured you a safe passage on their ship.

The day you left your hometown to return to the Baratie, your anxiety escalated to levels you thought were only attainable when dealing with Christopher or your father. Now, as you attired yourself and mentally braced for an endeavor that could potentially lead to a total flop, managing your soaring nerves emerged as your most formidable challenge yet.

This time around, only Mari accompanied you on your journey. The others had their own obligations to attend to, and they felt it would be awkward to all turn up simply for you to hand in a job application.

In a way, they acted as if you wouldn't be returning, hugging you tightly and wishing you a marvelous time at the floating restaurant. Their optimism undeniably compensated for your own scarcity of it, and they succeeded in instilling a bit of positivity in you.

The weather was pleasant, warm with a touch of moisture in the air, but offset by the cool, revitalizing sea breeze. The ship felt notably empty with just you and Mari on board, but you didn't want to burden the others with the expectation of always being in your company.

The reality was, you were uncertain about what awaited you. Not only were you unsure about possible developments with Sanji, but there also existed a risk that Zeff might scoff at you for even nurturing ambitions of securing a role at the Baratie. What could you feasibly contribute to their team other than some dishwashing and kitchen tidying? Your home cooking skills weren't outstanding enough to be of use, and you couldn't think of any other particular talents you possessed. You had dedicated so many years striving to liberate yourself from your constrained existence that you barely had time to develop new ones.

Luckily, Mari was there to bolster your spirits and remind you that cleaning itself was indeed a valuable ability. You had a notable knack for being quick and extremely meticulous in that area, and such a trait would be a significant asset for any restaurant, irrespective of its reputation.

Being used to your parents' critique, it was difficult for you to harbor the same self-belief as your friends did, but you determined that it would be worth attempting regardless of the result.

Now, as you looked at the ocean waves softly swaying the ship, immersed in your thoughts, Mari clasped your hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Hey, I know that embarking on a new life can be daunting, but I'm incredibly proud of you for what you've accomplished.”

You replied with a smile, returning the supportive gesture. "Whenever I think about it, I feel as though I might wake up and discover that none of it was real.”

Mari shook her head. "Believe me, Y/N, it's absolutely real. And all jokes aside, I must say that I genuinely root for you and Sanji.”

“I barely know him. And I'm not sure if I can truly take his compliments at face value.”

"Why, do you believe he's merely toying with you? Because I think he’s serious.”

You took a moment to consider your response, then declared, "No, it's not that. I can see in his eyes that he's not lying. But in the end, I'm just one amongst the multitude of customers he's come across, and you've seen how prone he is to flirting.”

Mari emitted a grunt. "Yes, but that's different. Do you want to know what I genuinely saw?”

“What did you see?”

"Sanji is handsome, and an incredibly talented cook too. But despite his good looks and talents, I think he's actually a little insecure. I could be wrong, but who knows what that guy has been through.”

Upon contemplation, you realized you didn't really know much about Sanji's past, as he hadn't divulged anything beyond his life at the Baratie, his spats with Zeff, and his dream of discovering the All Blue. You hadn't asked, but it was plausible that Mari had a point.

"What I'm saying is that the way he looked at you was authentic, and I'm not speaking from my biased perspective. You know that I can be quite straightforward when necessary. Sanji likes you, I'm sure of it... and if you ended up working there alongside him, all doubts would be dispelled.”

Mari was known for being a sharp observer, and she rarely misread someone she had the chance to assess at first sight.

"Perhaps you're right," you conceded. "But wouldn't that make things even more complex for us, being coworkers?”

"Oof. The worst-case scenario would be the two of you not getting enough privacy, but the real fun always kicks in during the night anyway.”

With laughter bubbling up, you affectionately bumped your forehead against hers. "You're such a mischief-maker.”

“And proud of it!”

While you dearly valued all your friends equally, the connection you had with Mari was distinctively special, leaning more towards a sisterly bond. From a young age, she had always been exceptionally resilient and served as an inspiration to you, someone who remained impervious to those who attempted to pull her down. She was consistently there for you when you needed her, never once refusing to stand by your side. Despite her critique of your lack of bravery against your family, she never passed harsh judgment, offering unwavering support through your tribulations.

Even at this point, she expressed concern to the extent of guaranteeing your job security, fully cognizant of the potential reality of embarking on the return journey solo.

The commute to the restaurant was seamless and serene. You seized this opportunity to delve further into your books, inscribe reflections in your journal, and engage in thoughtful discourse about your future aspirations. Working at the Baratie, irrespective of how long it may last, was a promising stride towards your total independence.

Your parents never permitted you to secure a job on your own, always orchestrating strategic meetings to ingratiate you with society's elites and political figures. The roles you were assigned were fairly mundane, often restricted to tasks such as serving drinks or filing paperwork. The earnings you made were under your family's surveillance, and squirreling away bits of Berries for personal use proved to be a laborious endeavor.

For the first time, you had the opportunity to achieve something solely for yourself, free from their meddling or overbearing presence.

However, the instant Mari pointed out the emerging silhouette of the Baratie in the distance, an immediate wave of weakness swept over your knees and a queasy sensation began to churn in your stomach.

"Y/N, take it easy! It's not a big deal, all you need to do is smile and maintain a polite attitude. That's something you've been trained to do all your life.”

"No, this feels different. I've never been so invested in a job application before.”

Mari gently rubbed your back as you hunched over the table, shrouding your face between your arms. "What if I don't measure up?”

"Enough of that talk! You'll do great, believe me. Anyone who passes on you would be making a foolish mistake."

"Do you really think so?”

"Of course I do. Now, perk up. I know you're also anxious about Sanji, but he should actually serve as a positive motivator.”

You groaned. "Please, let's not go there.”

"Alright, listen carefully," she instructed in a stern voice, compelling you to raise your head and meet her eyes. "The fact that you hesitate whenever someone brings up his name signifies that you've encountered a man who could finally shake your world. As we both know, that's a rarity.”

You acknowledged with a nod.

"Like I said, I'm confident the feelings are mutual, so that's not something you need to fret over. Just go with the flow, take things as they come.”

You sank back into your chair, a look of resignation on your face. "I'm at a loss, Mari. Everything feels so surreal to me at this moment.”

It was unfathomable how a single night at the Baratie had the power to completely upend your life;  One minute, you were betrothed to a Marine you had no interest in, succumbing to your father's will. Then, as if struck by a lightning bolt, you broke free from your cocoon, asserting your rights and discarding your shackles in an astonishingly short span of time. 

And now, you were en route back to the Baratie in pursuit of a job, all while dealing with the unsettling emotions stirred up by a man you only met twice.

Your infatuation with Sanji was undeniable. Despite your tries to brush it off, from the very first moment your eyes locked with his, you were completely smitten.

It may have been childish, likely ridiculous and possibly doomed to burst like a bubble in the wind for all you knew. Yet, despite your trepidations and uncertainties, a persistent voice inside your head urged you to heed the call of your heart.

Mari's smile widened, and she tenderly stroked your hair in a soothing gesture. "Sweetie, everything will work out. Relax, take a deep breath, and give it your all.”

And naturally, your only recourse was to gather all the strength you possessed and press on.

Upon reaching the restaurant's entrance, your feet inexplicably froze. You observed various patrons walk up to the deck and step inside, all primed to relish the most delectable fare the East Blue had to offer. Although it was still quite early and not exactly dinnertime, the enticing aroma wafting from the restaurant—a tantalizing blend of grilled meat, fish, and roasted potatoes, capped off with the unmistakable sweet scent of freshly baked cake—indicated that the Baratie staff was always well-prepared.

You had anticipated the place to be less crowded, but securing a conversation with Zeff might prove to be more challenging than you had originally thought.

"Y/N, let's go. What are you doing standing here stiff as cod?”

"Mari, I don't think I can go through with this," you proclamed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, don't be silly. Of course, you can.”

She took your upper arm in her firm grasp, and you had no choice but to let her coax you out of your paralysis. Upon crossing the threshold, Mari instantly engaged in a dialogue with the fish-man. She pointed out a table that, to your repeated surprise, she appeared to have reserved for the forthcoming hours.

"One of these days, you'll have to let me in on your secret," you said to her.

"Pfff, I have no idea what you're talking about!”

You trailed after her animated figure through the dining room, which, although noticeably less crowded compared to the main area, was still bustling with activity. 

The table was cozy and beautifully set for two, already decked with some enticing bread. Unfortunately, your current stomach condition was far from ideal, making the thought of savoring any food quite uninviting. Nevertheless, your resolve to meet Sanji again, potentially as a part of their crew, was not shaken.

No sooner had you reached your seat than a familiar voice echoed from across the room. Its charm was instantly enthralling, causing you to whip your head around so quickly that you could almost feel your nerves stretching within.

There stood Sanji, attired in his crisp white chef's uniform, deep in conversation with a waiter near the kitchen entrance. The instant your eyes fell on his brilliant smile, the blond hair gently falling over his left eye, the defined contour of his jaw, and the rhythmic bobbing of his Adam's apple, it felt as if your chest was about to explode. You redirected your attention back to Mari, taking in a deep breath as you felt your cheeks glow with warmth.

"Mari, he's here.”

"Yeah, I can see that.”

“What should I do?”

"What are you waiting for? Go say hi!”

She was thoroughly enjoying herself, her giggles echoing at your evident agitation in Sanji's presence.

"He's on duty, I can't just go over there and distract him from his responsibilities.”

"Actually, nevermind. I think he's just spotted us.”

Your heart leaped so violently that you needed to swallow it back down. "What?! You're kidding, right?”

“I’m not joking. Don’t turn around, he’s heading our way.”

Shit shit shit shit.

What were you even supposed to say? Would he be glad to see you? How could you maintain a cool exterior when you were struggling to keep your rambling in check? What if-

“You’re back!”

Mari pursed her lips in an effort to contain a burgeoning laugh, a reaction that was completely justifiable given the circumstances.

You spun around, and the moment you locked eyes with him, your breath was completely taken away. Because, honestly, how could a man possibly be this attractive?

Regardless, you managed to summon a bright smile in response. "Sanji, hi!"

“Hey!”

The gentleness that radiated from his greeting was simply overwhelming. He didn't afford you a moment to digest the situation, as he promptly swept you into a hug that was gentle, slightly cautious, yet concurrently bold. You could catch his aroma interlaced with the scent of cigarette and the kitchen's fragrances. It was soothing, it was sweet, and it was unforeseen.

Sanji appeared genuinely thrilled to see you there, and you courageously lifted your hands to hesitantly reciprocate his embrace.

Despite the barrier of clothing, you could feel the hardness of his muscles against your palms.

"I was concerned about you. Are you okay?”

The realization that he had been thinking of you was flattering and heartwarming.

"Yes, I'm doing well.”

You appeared to lose track of your surroundings, and even Sanji seemed reluctant to draw away from you. The sound of Mari's throat-clearing brought you back to reality, urging you to create a distance from him as you regained your poise.

"Good to see you again," she addressed him.

Sanji responded with a graceful smile, reaching out for the hand she had extended for a formal shake. In a classic display of his gentlemanly manners, albeit a bit extravagant yet still charming to see, he opted to lightly kiss her knuckles instead. "The pleasure is mine, madam.”

"Oh my, where have you been hiding all this time?"

Seeing as she was looking straight at you with an almost unnoticeable wink, it was clear that she was asking that question on your behalf.

Sanji looekd bashful, eyeing you with an enchanting glint in his aquamarine eyes. It made you go weak in the knees, akin to a punch in the gut that left you breathless and light-headed.

Mari, quickly picking up on your temporary disorientation, immediately intervened to break the ice. She leaned casually against Sanji, resting her arm comfortably on his shoulder. "Could we possibly have a word with your boss? There's a matter of utmost importance that requires discussion.”

Right, you thought to yourself. Of course. Pull yourself together, Y/N!

Sanji's brows furrowed in confusion. "You want to speak with Zeff?”

Mari subtly nodded to nudge you, shifting her eyes to the side as a signal towards him.

"Oh, uhm... yes. Is he around?”

"When isn't the old man breathing down my neck?" He responded, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'll get him.”

"I appreciate it, thank you.”

His smile broadened considerably, his expression reverting back to his playful, flirtatious manner. "Anything for you, beautiful.”

Why did his compliments always make you blush as red as a ripe tomato? Your cheeks felt like they were set ablaze as you watched him walk away, and your heart pounded so violently that you were half-convinced it might cause the entire establishment to tumble violently into the sea.

Gosh. Even his walk was alluring, not to mention the way he swept his left bangs away from his face.

"Mari, I swear, you're going to be the end of me.”

"In what way?”

"Just look at me. I’m a mess.”

She scoffed at your words. "Enough of that. Cheer up, I assure you there is no chance he will reject you. And by 'he', I'm referring to the head chef.”

"How can you be so sure?”

"You'll see. Just trust me on this, okay?”

Somehow, her smile suggested that she had been keeping a substantial piece of information hidden all along. "Mari, what is it that you're not telling me?”

"Ease up.”

You looked at her in disbelief, observing her casual movements as she settled into a seat and picked up a piece of bread from the basket at the center. Sighing in resignation, you mirrored her actions, settling into the chair on the opposite side of the table, but not daring to touch even a single crumb.

Each passing second felt like an eternity, the uncertainty of what the day held looming ominously over you. Your father's harsh words persistently invaded your thoughts, echoing in your ears as if he were shouting them from right behind you. "You're a failure. You won't achieve anything on your own. You are nothing without me.”

There was more to you than the image he consistently tried to project. Yet, every time you attempted to place some faith in your abilities, he always managed to pull you back down. His influence was felt even in his absence.

Minutes ticked by, too many to keep track of. Just as you were on the verge of standing up and storming out of the main door, Zeff's gruff voice resounded into the dining room.

"Well, I'll be damned!”

For a moment, you feared he was critiquing your presence before you could even speak to him, but it didn't take long for you to realize that his words weren't meant for you at all.

"Zeff!”

Your eyes expanded in surprise as you watched Mari greeting the chef with the familiarity of an old friend. Her hands comfortably encased his larger one in a warm clasp. "Thank you for making time for us. I know how busy you can be.”

Wait, what?

"Do you remember my friend, Y/N?”

To say that you were utterly shocked would be an understatement. What sort of joke had you wandered into?

"Aye. I hope you're faring well now.”

Despite your attempts to regain your voice, you could only nod in response.

"She has something to discuss with you," Mari interjected. "But it would be best to have the conversation privately, just between the two of you.”

Zeff hummed in understanding. "I suppose I can take a minute off.”

Your blood turned icy as the pieces fell into place. The effortless way Mari had secured a table when others had to wait weeks in line, her overbearing confidence about your hiring request - it all suddenly made sense given how well-acquainted she was with the person in charge.

A part of you felt betrayed, as if you had been deceived right from the start.

Mari called out your name, noticing your complexion turning pale. This time, your reaction had nothing to do with your previous anxiety, which had now completely dissipated and been replaced by a newfound determination to uncover more.

"I apologize, but... you owe me some explanations.”

Zeff placed his hands on either side of his waist, chuckling with amusement. "You didn't mention it to her, ey?”

Mari grinned like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oopsie.”

"Don't give me an 'oopsie' now, this isn't something to be taken lightly.”

"Listen, we will talk about it later, I promise. For now, just go with Zeff and do what you need to do.”

Now, in light of your discovery, your skepticism had greatly deepened. Would he even consider hiring you based on your own merits, or were things already prearranged, again?

Not wanting your journey to have been entirely futile, you eventually resolved to engage in conversation with the head chef.

"Fine. But don't think you're off the hook so easily.”

Mari remained as calm and confident as ever, not perceiving your warning as particularly grave.

Shifting her focus back to the mustachioed man, she offered an innocent smile. "She's more feisty than she looks.”

Zeff was a far cry from the serious former pirate you remembered. Whether this change was a result of Mari's visit or merely a buoyed spirit, you couldn't really tell.

"I'll keep that in mind," He said with a hearty chuckle. “Come on, this way.”

As he pivoted to guide you to a more secluded area, Mari offered a gentle shove on your back and flashed two thumbs up. Despite her encouragement, uncertainty lingered in you as you quietly followed the the man with the pegged leg towards the known environment of his office.

The chef settled comfortably into the chair behind his desk, courteously offering the one in front of him for you. As you sat down, you played with your fingers, unsure about how to initiate the dialogue.

Eventually, you posed the most straightforward question that came to mind.

"May I inquire about how you know my friend, sir?”

Zeff grasped his long white hat, setting it delicately on the table and revealing his tousled blond short hair. "Ah, that's quite a story that she might want to share with you herself.”

You arched an eyebrow with no intention of backing down, anticipating further explanation.

He sighed deeply, then confessed, "I knew her father, a long time ago.”

From your recollections, the man had met a tragic end in a maritime accident when Mari was but a child, the specifics of which she had never wished to divulge. By the time you first encountered her, he was already gone. She consistently spoke of him as a hero she aimed to emulate - a figure of strong morality and impressive fighting prowess.

It wasn’t hard for you to grasp the truth behind what she hadn't disclosed.

Delving deeper into it, you asked, "He was a pirate, wasn’t he?"

“….Aye.”

Considering her personality and her typical approach to handling things, it indeed provided a believable explanation.

And then, you could see a wave of melancholy wash over Zeff's features.

"She's a good kid," he continued. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree”

Regrettably, you couldn't entirely concur with that sentiment. "Sometimes it does, but that's a different story.”

Zeff watched you with intense scrutiny, observing as you lowered and shook your head in an attempt to dispel unwanted memories.

"Did you want to ask me something?”

Tightening your grip on your knees, you confirmed. “I do, sir.”

“Go on, then.”

It seemed that Mari hadn't actually revealed your intentions to the chef. Either that, or he was exceptionally good at concealing it.

"Firstly, I wanted to sincerely apologize again for the actions of my ex-fiancé during our last visit.”

"Nah, you shouldn't be the one apologizing," he emphasized.

"I accompanied him here, so it falls on me. I wanted to ask if there's any way I could make amends for the ruined food and damages.”

Zeff pondered your question, stroking the top of his big mustache. “What do you have in mind?”

You swallowed your nervousness, doing your best to articulate a suitable proposal without stumbling over your words.

"Is there any possibility that I could.... work here?”

Just as anticipated, a look of surprise slightly enlarged his eyes. "You want to work in my restaurant?”

"For as long as you deem appropriate. I don't have much to offer, but I could... maybe undertake cleaning duties? Wash the dishes? Things like that. I don’t require any compensation.”

When he persisted in his silence, you were consumed with apprehension that he might belittle you. What could a girl like you, primarily groomed to appear attractive and agreeable to affluent men, possibly contribute to a restaurant like his?

"I understand that I'm not exactly an ideal candidate. My cooking skills are quite basic, and I don't have any standout abilities that would make me a valuable addition to your team.”

He paid careful attention, noting how your eyes sparkled with unwavering conviction.

"But I'm a quick learner, and I'm really skilled at polishing things.”

"Why here? Why the Baratie?”

His interest was sincere, and it was highly probable that Zeff was trying to understand you and your motivations.

“If you want to work for me because of what that worthless excuse of a man did, don't bother.”

How could you possibly explain to him the depth of your interest, proving that it extended way beyond merely settling a debt?

As per Mari's advice, the most advantageous way to secure the job was to communicate your thoughts openly and honestly. Your brightest prospect of success stemmed from utilizing your innate strengths and maintaining your true self.

You had spent your entire life in pretense, masquerading as someone you never wanted to become.

"Sir, may I speak frankly?”

“Please do.”

And surely, Zeff was not a man to be readily influenced by insincere proclamations.

"I genuinely like it here. I spent an entire evening in your kitchen, and I was impressed by the passion and teamwork of your employees," you expressed. "From a young age, I was instructed to be assertive in all aspects of my life, all in the pursuit of finding a suitable husband who could provide political advantages for my parents.”

A large, unpleasant lump was developing in your throat, but you chose to disregard it.

“I had no voice in any decision, not once was I allowed to choose my own path. I was constantly reminded that I held no value on my own, and unfortunately, I started to believe it.”

The man’s gaze softened and his shoulders eased.

"For once, I want to choose for myself, to prove that I am more than what they led me to convince myself of.”

"Prove to whom, to them?”

“To myself.”

Suddenly, you felt a surge of tenacity that you never thought you could summon, realizing you had nothing left to lose.

"I'm not a chef, nor am I an experienced waitress. All I'm asking for is a chance, without anyone else dictate who I am.”

A silence descended between you two. Zeff's expression transformed to one of seriousness and focus, his eyes narrowing. The fact that he didn't dismiss you outright and was prepared to pause his work to listen was a hopeful sign. However, the impact of your words was still uncertain.

Eventually, he reacted with a pleased "hah!", evidently valuing your honest admission.

“Just so we’re clear,” he started, “Working here won’t be easy.”

"I'm not expecting it to be, sir.”

"We rise early, and the kitchen needs to be operational at all times.”

“Naturally.”

You were not one to oversleep or shirk your responsibilities anyway.

"It can turn into a real mess, with many dishes and pans to scrub.”

"I'm accustomed to putting a lot of elbow grease.”

The more you answered, the more satisfied he seemed. He sported a friendly and gentle smile, complemented by his long, twisted mustache.

"If you work, you get paid. You don’t owe me anything. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

His intentions were unequivocally transparent, leaving no margin for error. However, despite the apparent success of your request, your mind was struggling to process it.

“And just another thing,” he uttered. “Whatever is happening between you and the Little Eggplant, it needs to stay out of my kitchen.”

Though he didn't seem noticeably irritated, the mere mention of Sanji was enough to instantly set you on edge.

"Oh... no, I don't.... we... I mean, there’s nothing going on.”

With a subtle smirk, Zeff let out a muffled chuckle before picking up his hat and resettling it on his head. "You start tomorrow morning, be ready at dawn. ”

You stared at him, mouth wide open in sheer incredulity, letting his words sink in. “Wait, that’s it?”

"I thought you wanted the job.”

"I do! It's just... I wasn't expecting you would accept.”

Zeff took a deep breath and released it with a prolonged exhalation. “You are asking me, and I don’t see any compelling reason to decline.”

"You… you’re not doing this because of Mari, right?”

“If you’re under the impression that I would hire you based on someone else’s endorsement, you are mistaken.”

You were at a loss for words to express your feelings. Relief, joy, and excitement all coursed through you simultaneously.

"I see something in you. They may have led you to believe otherwise, but whoever fed you that crap was blinded by their ignorance.”

"I... thank you, sir.”

Your parents overlooked your value despite your numerous attempts to prove yourself. How could he recognize it so effortlessly, just through that brief narrative of your life?

From everything Sanji had shared with you about the head chef, you had anticipated him to be somewhat difficult to engage with. In reality, he surpassed all your expectations, proving to be a man of depth and remarkable insight.

As Zeff rose, steadying himself on his foot and peg, you followed his lead. The walk to the dining room had an unreal quality, as if you were moving within a bubble, wrestling with something that verged on being a product of your imagination.

Yet, it was as real as it could possibly be.

Zeff offered one last piece of advice, pledging to formally introduce you to the staff by day's end. Mari, in response, immediately wrapped her arms around you, celebrating your success and assuring her old friend that he would never regret bringing you on board.

As the chef left to return to his responsibilities, Sanji reappeared, throwing inquisitive glances your way as Mari energetically shook your hands, her fingers entwined with yours. Part of you pondered if it would be best to keep it a secret until the last possible moment, but you could sense his curiosity gnawing at him.

Considering the fact that you had unexpectedly returned only to request a meeting with his boss, you couldn't really find fault with it.

With a single nod of her head, your friend granted you the honor of announcing the news, stepping aside and moving back to the table. You felt unready and unsure of his potential reaction. The thought of him being disappointed, possibly even losing interest in you, was creating a distressing knot in your stomach.

Regardless, there was no turning back for you, and you were committed to see it through to the end.

"Well, you see, starting from tomorrow, we're going to be coworkers.”

There it was, you had dropped the bombshell right in front of him. Your breath hitched again as you waited, watching his facial expression transform from confusion, to surprise, and then to quiet contemplation. After that initial moment of astonishment, his bright and loving smile re-emerged.

"Now I have an additional reason to fulfill my duty. Welcome to the Baratie, Y/N.”

Needless to say, the urge to hug him once more was irresistible. Your arms encircled his neck as you rose on your toes. It was a spontaneous act, carried out without much deliberation, fueled by your escalating emotions.

And your heart skipped a beat when he returned the gesture, tenderly supporting your back and soothingly caressing it with his hands.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 5 (coming soon) ->

#one piece liveaction #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #opla fanfiction

[crusherthedoctor]

Get a Load of Traits - PART 2: Dr. Eggman

It's that time again, folks. Time for another analysis you didn't ask for.

I explained how the setup goes with my previous installment revolving around Sonic, but to recap: for the sake of not dragging things out too much, I’ve decided to keep it all thematically consistent by sticking with 9 main points per character, in terms of what I personally consider the highest priorities for each of them. These will usually not be listed in any particular order of importance or relevance unless stated otherwise, and while there may be other major traits that might not get mentioned (in which case, feel free to bring them up yourself if you see fit), this keeps things simple and focuses on the points that have the most flexibility with how much of the character they encapsulate.

It should also be noted that these posts are made with the game portrayals in mind, because the games mark the core of the franchise, and as such, they objectively contain the purest essence of the cast. Adaptations generally like to play by their own rules, some more gratuitously and inexcusably than others, and this will inevitably crop up with certain entries. All that being said however, I’ll attempt to stay focused rather than devolve into another rant about this adaptation or that adaptation, only directly referring to them if I feel it’s necessary for the point being made.

Anyhow, for today’s installment, the spotlight shines on everyone's favourite villain that they pretend isn't a villain: Dr. Eggman.

He's larger than life.

Where could he be???

He's shaped like an egg. He laughs and bellows like it's going out of fashion. He proudly announces when he's in the room for no other reason than to inform everyone that he's in the room. He takes sadistic glee when you don't have enough memory in the memory card. Why would you want to sawdust away this side of him? What are you, a Hollywood writer?

Just as Sonic is a fun hero, it's integral that Eggman is a fun villain. He's all about the colour, the spectacle, the raw energy. This is non-negotiable. If you approach this character and think he needs to be made grounded because he has a silly name or something, then you are going about this the completely wrong way. Villains like Eggman get praised all the time for being vibrant and wacky, so frankly, there is no excuse to write him off for it.

He is genuinely smart.

"Oh yeah? Well if you played nice, I wouldn't need to transform you into a tedious gameplay mechanic that appeals to furries and is guaranteed to give this game negative reviews from IGN. Haha, gottem."

Look at the screencap above. He was able to turn the tables against Super Sonic right when it looked as though he was thoroughly cornered. How was he able to achieve this? By planning.

*leans closer to the mic*

P L A N N I N G.

Yes, he is not literally omniscient. Yes, he can be prone to the occasional oversight. Yes, unexpected events can transpire that would be difficult if not impossible for him to account for. But all that aside, Eggman is a genius. He does have an IQ of 300. He talks a big game, but with all the amazing tech he's created over the years, and with all the ways he's pulled a fast one over the heroes, he has proven that he can play the big game. Need I remind you that this is a human, and his arch-nemesis is the fastest thing alive, not some dude on the street. He would need to be on his A-game in order to last.

And yes, it is indeed him who does all that brainstorming. Ever since day 1, he's always been very hands-on with his operations, not needing to steal the credit from another scientist or force a hostage to do it all for him. His plans? His weapons? They're all him. Would a mere bumbler be able to subdue the Time Eater?

He is genuinely evil.

"What's this shite I'm hearing about a Mr. Tinker...?"

We've got the Triforce of Funny Man. We've got the Triforce of Real Intelligence. Now here comes the hardest pill to swallow: the Triforce of Actually Malevolent.

For reasons that can be pinned on certain portrayals that are coincidentally more commonly found in adaptations, fans are all too willing to remove agency from Eggman's villainy. When they're not claiming an amnesiac personality that peaced out as quickly as it arrived is his true self, they're claiming he has all these heated gamer moments for the purpose of avenging his Wasted™ grandfather, Professor Gerald Robotnik. Or they claim he's not as bad as other villains in the franchise because he "only" wants to conquer the world, rather than destroy it.

Now how can I put this gently...

No, I am not just saying this because I personally happen to favor Eggmen with proper villainous balls to their name rather than glorified frenemies with Sonic at best. Even when exorcising myself of all potential bias, the Eggman we see in the games is still a very different fellow from what a concerning number of fans say with a straight face he is.

He stuffs animals inside robots on a regular basis. He lies, cheats, and backstabs on a regular basis. He fired a laser at the planet with the intent to fracture it, with no consideration for destruction or fatalities. He conquered other planets just to reduce them to self-indulgent attractions for his theme park. He drove a friendly robot to insanity after they were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to destroy Station Square right out the gate, with the only difference come the end of his rope being that he changed tactics to more suicidal means out of desperation. When the Deadly Six were defeated, and the world remained in a dire state, his only reaction was to express relief that there was still something for him to lord over. And although Forces may have glossed over much of his rule, it's clear that it wasn't pleasant for anyone other than himself. Throughout all of this, he rarely brings up Gerald in a consistent manner outside of SA2 and ShtH, and in fact, even in those games, it's pretty clear that he only cares about Gerald's scientific legacy and how that makes him special in the process due to being his grandson. He's never been shown to give a damn about the rest of Gerald as a person, including the philanthropist he was at heart prior to his last days.

Not wanting to destroy the world is not an act of kindness. It's simple logic: he can't conquer something that's not there. And is treating the population to a lifetime of slavery really that softer than a quick and (relatively) painless death? I'm sure TV Tropes would say yes, but what do you think?

He's a self-made man.

Egg Jameson confirmed.

Our horizontally enlightened fiend did not start with a kingdom of his own. He was not a test tube baby who could shoot lasers out of his hands from day one. He was not born a demon, nor did he hail from a bloodline of gods. When he began his path in life of being a furry shamer, he had only his gadgets and tools to work with. Yet, he has managed to carve himself a bountiful list of pro gamer moves over the years despite his mortal human status, including harnessing the Time Eater as mentioned, bringing his dream Eggmanland to life in all its glory, and the engineering marvel that is Metal Sonic... and almost never suffering from financial troubles despite the frequent destruction of his machines at Sonic's hands. (Keep Sonic 4's name out your fuckin' mouth.)

And speaking of that last part, there has been evidence across the series that he has more than one way of ensuring the moolah keeps rolling in. We've seen him set up casinos, carnivals, Extreme Gear companies, newspaper factories, and other facilities to extend his reach. We've seen his robots mine for resources all over the world, and occasionally other worlds. We've seen him own a literal ocean of oil. We've even seen him sell his stripped down robots to chumps who don't know any better. For all his childish ways and penchant for plagiarizing the Death Star, he's surprisingly good at money management.

Then there's his specific approach to scheming and beating Sonic. Winning on its own is never enough for him: he wants to win on his terms, by doing things his way. So he might steal a shiny gem, but he'll use it to power the tech that he made. He might wake up a sleeping beast, but he'll have an Egg Carrier operating alongside it. The doc is always pulling his weight no matter the game, because if he didn't, how could he back up his self-admired intellect without it ringing hollow? You know he wouldn't be having that.

All of this goes a long way to explaining how he grew a knack for being so pro-active as a villain in the present day of the games proper. Instead of having it easy by being born an almighty superbeing, he had to work his way up using nothing but his brain. Because Dr. Eggman is a man with quite a few admirable qualities. Just a shame that morality is not one of them, no matter how much I've been gaslit by fans into believing otherwise.

His ego is his motive.

Don't say it.

As we discussed, for all his manufactured admiration of his late grandad's genius, he doesn't mention him as often across the franchise as fans would lead you to believe. But you know which moustached gentleman he does mention a lot throughout the franchise...?

An overfilled sense of pride is to be expected for a pure villain. Regardless of their motive and their means to fulfill said motives, they're expected to think highly of themselves to some degree. But Eggman is not your everyday egotist: he IS the ego. Many villains have made statues of themselves, but how many do you know who have defaced historical monuments and plastered their visage on them? How many villains do you know who call half of their machines Egg Something? How many villains do you know who make up every single boss in more than one installment?

That's because Eggman's ego isn't just part of his character: it's the source of his drive. Everything he does, everything he wants to do, is fueled by how much he loves himself, and how displeased he is that the rest of the world does not feel the same way. He wants everyone to bow down to his excellence, he wants to conquer the world to satisfy his lust, and even that wouldn't keep him satiated forever, since evidence has shown that he would just make a grab for the whole universe if he got bored. He cannot picture a world where anyone else matters, because they're not him. Over the span of three decades, his inflated self-worth at the cost of everyone else's agency and wellbeing has not diminished one iota, and unless SEGA decides to pander hard to the Eggdad standom, this is not likely to change anytime soon.

Which leads me to my next point...

The consequences are irrelevant to him.

Quote by Billy Mitchell.

Part of the recurring problem with Eggman being woefully mischaracterized as not such a bad guy when you get to know him is because people like to suggest that since he rarely shows outright sadism while committing his evil deeds (except this is also not true; see Tails' story in SA1, or the sheer ecstasy in his tone when he betrayed Emerl's trust in Battle), that means the results that spring from them are more excusable than the likes of Mephiles, Starline, Disney, etc.

Putting aside the fact that he's still willingly committing these deeds to begin with - with no regret at that - let's assume they mean in reference to ordinary citizens and the like. Now maybe it's true that he's not known to dedicate much of his career to making things personal with random nobodies. But let me ask you something: when he declared his intent to destroy Station Square with Chaos so he could build ROBOTNIKLAND THE ULTIMATE CITY WHERE I WILL RULE IT AAAALLLL COME ON CHAOS LET'S FIND ANOTHER EMERALD SHALL WE Eggmanland over its remains... did he say anything about letting the residents evacuate? Did he provide a means to help them evacuate?

What you need to keep in mind is that Eggman showing little interest goes both ways. He doesn't give any thought to these folk period. If his giant mech killed people who were in his way, or he fired a cannon at Whocaresville and the people living there didn't have time to get out of dodge, he's not going to shed a tear and call for a moment of silence. Because, as we've already established, the only person that matters is him. So long as he gets what he wants, and so long as there are still other people out there to worship him, what's the big deal if some kid is now without a parent or a home?

He is not a good master.

"Also, I did create a vaccine. That's what you get for listening to our loving fans who hate us."

Well, at least he shows a more caring side to his creations, right? Sure... if you don't pay any attention to how it plays out onscreen.

My dude is certainly willing to shower his creations with high praise, but what advocates of Good Guy Eggman fail to note is that he praises them because he made them. An achievement for them is an achievement for him, because how would they be so brilliant and competent if it weren't for who built them that way? And you know what else? That praise conveniently only manifests when the creation is doing their job: the moment they fall short of his lofty standards, he flips like a switch. Can it truly be considered sincere and from the heart if he's that willing to turn on them that easily?

Of his many robotic stooges over the years, two that he held in high esteem were the E-Series and Metal Sonic. He made a show of tasking the former with an important mission, and the latter has been recognized repeatedly as one of his crowning masterpieces. And yet, all of the E-Series bar Gamma were discarded and essentially left to fend for themself in an unfamiliar world, with Beta being forcibly modified without a second thought. Gamma was only spared because, you guessed it, he was the one with a victory to his name. As for Metal Sonic, for all his longevity and special treatment, he too is not immune to punishment in the event of failure or disobedience.

And Infinite? His prized right-hand man during his six month conquest? Whisked away without a word after one bruh moment too many, followed by making a point to show off his own mastery over the (real) Phantom Ruby.

Needless to say, this is a stark contrast from the goofy dad you often see in fanart.

His will is equal to Sonic's.

"I'm gonna have to reset, that was a practice run."

Being a regular human does not serve as a limitation for Eggman's status and capabilities, unless you're a hack writer who believes superficial power levels are the instant-win key to a good antagonist, or a well-crafted story in general. On paper, a hedgehog with Sonic's level of power should have dealt with this silly old man once and then never again. That happened with aliens. It happened with gods. It happened with talking ballsacks. Yet Eggman is still around. Despite being subjected to a wide selection of situations that should have Big Oof'd him, with Sonic normally not considering saving him from said perils a high priority, Eggman keeps surviving, and he keeps trucking on.

Why? Because main villain immunity, yes, but compared to Bowser the fire-breathing turtle, and Ganon the occasional boar-shaped demigod, a human scientist managing to persist for as long as he has is still impressive even without the out-of-universe justification. This detail of his character is even incorporated into his boss fights: the Egg Viper battle ends with a kamikaze attack. The Mega Death Egg Robot had a second machine stored inside it, keeping up where the fight left off as the first one conks out. S3&K in its entirety was practically dedicated to his absolute refusal to call it quits.

He doesn't give up. He never gives up. And he's not the type to piss his pants either. When the odds are stacked against him, he will either give it his all with much gnashing of teeth, or he'll retreat because it's the tactically sound thing to do. What he doesn't do is show fear and plead for his life. (Unleashed doesn't count, that was a Wily ploy.)

He hates Sonic.

Or else he wouldn't have made this.

You would think this would go without saying. You have not spent enough time in the Sonic community. I wish I was you. (Then again, I met my friends through it...)

There are many people - many, many, many people - who will vehemently drill into your head with the trustworthy assurance of a SonicTuber that Dr. Eggman, arch-nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog, world's longest Attempted Sonic Murderer champion, secretly likes the guy deep down, and would never wish for the Blue Blur to actually kick the bucket for good. They claim that when push comes to shove, the old doctor would never fully commit to world domination, because he simply enjoys his bouts with Sonic too much.

For X!Eggman? Probably.

Boom Eggman? Definitely.

Game Eggman? The Eggman? No.

Eggman hates Sonic. Eggman loathes Sonic, and he loathes the rest of his multicolored accomplices just as fiercely. The amount of times he has tried to bust a cap in Sonic's ass is plausibly in the triple digits. He has subjected Sonic to all kinds of threatening, terrifying situations with the explicit purpose of either killing him or hitting him where it hurts. He shows happiness when Sonic is in pain, or has appeared to have been vanquished by his efforts. What about any of this suggests that he likes him? Because of respect?

Now yes, that much is true. It's evident that Eggman respects Sonic as an opponent who can keep up with him, and it's true that he enjoys their battles to an extent. That's not the same thing as actually liking the guy on a personal level. For all the respect he may wield, he would still gladly rid himself of the hedgehog the first chance he gets. Remember the big moment in SA2 in which he launched Sonic into space? He bid his farewell, in a semi-mocking tone, then went right back to business like it was nothing. And what about Forces? What did he plan on doing with Sonic once he got bored of waving his victory in his enemy's face? That's right, he planned on slamming the red button on him. Sorry you had to find out this way, that's what happens when you don't Play The Game.

Ivo Robotnik is a jovial man, but his goals are dead serious. He wants his empire more than anything else in the world, and he will get it. For whatever thrills their encounters may provide, he would piss on Sonic's grave without a moment's hesitation in order to make progress with his ambitions. If he wasn't serious about taking over the world... why the fuck would he do all that he does? Do you really think he spends all that time researching ancient tablets because he wants to be Sonic's friend? Do you think he enslaves alien races because it's not like he likes Sonic or anything baka kawaii desu (please don't unfollow me, I won't do it again)? I don't think so, chum. There'd be no game, and no franchise, if Eggman wasn't coming up with ways to put him in an early grave. And then probably vandalize the grave after.

---

If you understand all of these points, and if you can take to them, then I believe you should have what it takes to write a good, or even great, portrayal of Dr. Ivo "EDP445" Robotnik. No portrayal is going to be one-and-one with that of another, there'll always be subtle distinctions depending on the writer, but you'll be fine as long as he's not a softie or a fool who only exists to be replaced with a gay platypus.

Oh and, one last thing...

Heroes manual lied to you. Sorry, English fandom.

#Get a Load of Traits #Opinion #Dr. Eggman

[monstersdownthepath]

For the likes of Demon Lords or equivalents - you know, divine or semi-divine entities that have stat blocks - are there any instances where their Servants are 'stronger' than them, with like higher BAB or more spells or any other craziness that can result from High-level Characters, or Monsters w/ Class Levels? I put 'Stronger' in air quotes because there's a lot of different types of strength, and being well-rounded is pretty important. No matter how huge your stats, if you have 7 Int a Maze is gonna lock you out. Asking because I was looking at WotR and had an idea (well, just cribbing an idea from another setting tbh) of giving Baphomet's cult a 'Muscle'. The Lord of Minotaur's is strong to be sure, but his cults tends to be more cerebral - sometimes, you need to break things. So, here's this super-Minotaur born from an exemplar of their kind - big, huge, strong, and barely sapient - a perfect fighting servant, to be summoned to his cults as needed. I do say Super-Minotaur because I gave them the Advanced Template, Class Levels and courtesy of Baphomet, some Mythic Ranks. It *is* for WotR after all.

-----

Hmmm... Among fiends, such a thing is nearly unheard of, and the times it is heard of are often laughed mockingly about; making something stronger than yourself is a surefire way to be replaced by it, regardless of how that strength manifests (see: Lyutheria, the former Horseman of Famine). I personally can't find an example of this occurring among the fiendish demigods where it didn't end with the created servant supplanting their creator! The closest available approximate is the fact the physically diminutive and statistically underwhelming Barbatos is in many respects physically and magically inferior to Furcas, over whom he holds dominion.

In Baphomet's case specifically, he himself is more powerful than his own Labyrinth Minotaurs--their species his most successful creation--by every measurable metric.

Even among good demigods, I can't immediately find anything like the scenario you're describing! I suppose, if you wanted to stretch the search parameters a little, Talmandor exists; he serves no particular Empyreal Lord, though, and this specific detail allows him considerable freedom when interacting with mortals.

there's actually a reason for this in and out of universe, actually; look at the crafting rules for any Construct or the rules of creating just about any Undead, and you'll always notice that the Caster Level needed to make such minions exceeds the creature's CR considerably! "You need to be more powerful than the thing you're trying to make" is built into the rules of reality!

All that being said, there's literally nothing stopping you from making your living battering ram have 40 Str/34 Dex/40 Con with two dozen and change combat feats. Baphomet has the wealth and resources of whole worlds at his disposal and, more importantly, ways to stop such a creature from turning against him... and if he doesn't now, he's too cunning to craft such a being without an idiot-proof failsafe (such as a kill-switch only he can activate or a phrase only he knows). Maybe he keeps the thing Imprisoned until it's needed?

side side note/fun fact I found out while digging around for a way to answer this ask: did you know the highest Str in the game (56) belongs to Cthulhu?

#asks #arch-arsonist

[starry-eyed-never-satisfied]

Fanfic Writer Ask Game: 😅 🤡 🛒 🍦🤗🧠🤲✅🤯 sorry if this is a lot lol

No worries I love asks and talking about my writing, so the more the merrier!

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

The only one I really feel weird about is Tonight I Wanna See It In Your Eyes. Just cause it's so short and doesn't go into enough detail on what I was trying to portray. I did it for writers month and tried to write it in a day, which I can't do. I love the idea though and I fully intend to expand it more one day.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Driving On Down The Road and reason why Butt Fuck Nowhere is called that, and the whole of 100.000 Years, it's just so silly, but I really can picture them having that whole interaction.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Always angst, I can't help it. Paul's sensitivity and vulnerability, Gene's tough but caring.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

Hold Me. No smut, just Paul in a dark place and Gene not knowing how to help, but still being there for him.

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Don't feel like you need to start from the beginning. Write whatever it is that has inspired you, whether it be a scene or phrase. If you get to a bit where you want a particular thing to happen but don't know how to write it just type insert smut here or insert fight here or whatever and go on to the next bit. After you've written the stuff you're confident with it's much easier to fill in the gaps.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Here's a bittersweet head cannon about Paul and Ace for you. Neither of them will admit it, but they were close, and after Peter left they became closer. Paul didn't want Ace to leave and tried to keep him happy, even drinking with him on occasion. But he didn't want to get blackout drunk like Ace did, so it wasn't very successful. The pictures from The Elder/Creatures period, where they are holding onto each other - that's Paul silently saying don't go. But it was inevitable. And everything they have said since then comes from a place of hurt.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Because you liked Let Me Know so much, this is a follow up to it, called Far From The House And The Family Fights in which teenage Paul has a fight with his parents and runs away to Gene.

“We received a letter from school today, Stanley.”

Stanley.  That meant he was in trouble.  Even so, Paul rolled his eyes and headed towards his room.

“You are not going anywhere, young man!”

Stanley and young man.  He was in a shitload of trouble!

 “You are going to stay here and explain yourself!  You are on the verge of failing.  You haven’t done any homework and have been missing classes.  You’ve been drawing . . . penises in your schoolbooks.  And you told your teacher you didn’t need school because you are going to be a . . . rock star?”

Oops.  He hadn’t mentioned that particular ambition to his parents yet.

“What happened to you?” asked his father.  “You had so much potential.”

“God gave you this wonderful brain and you’re not using it,” said his mother.

Paul had heard this so many times before, and this time he lost it.

“Did he give me this stupid fucking ear too?  Because I’ll happily trade my brain for a real one!”

“Stanley Eisen!  Mind your language!”

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Angst! Even when I try to write something happy or funny the angst creeps in. I don't want Paul to be unhappy all the time.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Fight scenes. Arguments I can do, but when it comes to the physical stuff I struggle. While I believe these guys probably did get into punch ups occasionally, I can't really visualise them, I've only seen fights on tv and we know how realistic those are lol

#thanks for the ask!

[turtlethon]

Reflections & The Road Ahead

ABOVE: The Turtles make a promotional appearance in the UK, circa 1990. These puffy versions of the green teens showed up on TV and in the press often during Turtlemania, and resemble the characters as they were depicted on licensed Hero Turtles items during that era.

I’m old enough at this point to feel comfortable in saying that life is full of periods of awkward re-adjustment, where the world moves around you and it can take a while to find your bearings. You go to school for years and it feels like it’ll never end, then one day you’re just... done. A day job that perhaps you feel like you’ll be doing until you reach old age and keel over abruptly ends for whatever reason, and suddenly your routine is gone, leaving you wondering what to do with yourself. 

Years ago, on a whim, I made the decision to re-watch the 1987 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon from the beginning and live-tweet about it over on the birdsite. Things were stop-start in the beginning, but at some point during the pandemic the project began gathering momentum. The threads got longer, my need to point out every weird little thing that happens in any given Turtles episode outgrowing the format of a Twitter thread. And so, almost exactly two years ago, Turtlethon made the jump to Tumblr, and in short order the format for each entry began to take shape: a beat-for-beat walk through a single episode of TMNT, complete with screengrabs and the occasional video clip, and an analysis of why that particular adventure does (or doesn’t) land, typically 2,000 words in length, longer still if it’s really good – or exceptionally bad. 

In time, we settled into a routine: two new entries would appear every week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Sticking with that turned out to be an undertaking that I vastly underestimated the scope of early on, and there were times where the obligation to write about, screencap, edit and post about Turtles became exhausting, but I didn’t want this to be a project I abandoned halfway through. It was of the utmost importance to me to persevere, to get to the end no matter what. 

Now that day has been and gone. We watched Splinter hurriedly declare the Turtles to be his equals, the credits rolled, and honestly it was all underwhelming. Upon further reflection, there’s no doubt there was more story to be told – there's no way Mung angrily telling Dregg he’d gone mad was the intended payoff to him getting pushed around all season – and presumably that’s something we would’ve seen followed up on had the show returned in 1997. But that’s not the world we live in, and so instead, we have to assess Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as it is: the 192 (or 193) adventures that were broadcast, which we can now observe as one overarching body of work. And I guess now all that’s left to ask is... what even was TMNT ‘87? Beyond the obvious and most cynical analysis – that it was initially an effort to promote a line of action figures, before becoming the heart of the Turtles business empire in its own right – what, if anything, was the series about? What was it trying to communicate to those of us who grew up watching it? 

Peel away that initial "toy cartoon" layer of interpretation, and the next observation is perhaps only slightly less world-weary: it’s about communicating the idea that the Turtles are cool, to create adventures that will be compelling to kids, ensure they keep coming back and hopefully convince them to explore the other facets of the franchise too. Early on, the show was successful in these respects commercially, but from a creative standpoint it took a while to find its feet. Through the first three years the Turtles were first and foremost a unit, rarely getting to venture beyond their respective descriptions in the theme song. Leonardo leads, Donatello does machines, Raphael is... not exactly rude but certainly quippy, and Michaelangelo is indeed a party dude, whose pizza fixation sometimes appears to reach “this guy genuinely has a problem” territory. (It’s remarkable how integral pizza is to the first seven seasons of the show, only for it to be abandoned completely in the Red Sky era: I’m sure there must have been a strict “NO PIZZA” edict handed down from S8 onward that explains why the series ended on an ill-fitting popcorn gag instead.) One of the common themes explored in the Turtlethon entries for the golden era episodes is that Shredder, Krang, Rocksteady & Bebop make the show work comedically in the early goings, in part because they’re allowed to be flawed and vulnerable: meanwhile the Turtles are constrained by that need to be super cool dudes, the world’s most fearsome fighting team. 

With the success of the show assured around season four, we finally begin to see a willingness to explore who the Turtles are beyond those base traits conveyed in the theme song. I’d argue that in this incarnation of the series, Leonardo is the member of the group whose personality adheres closest to what the team were when originally conceived for the Mirage comic: he’s a ninja first and foremost, even memorably declaring his intent to finish off Shredder in the first season. Season three’s “Take Me to Your Leader” explores how the burden of leadership weighs upon him but it’s the following year where he’s fully rounded out, the pros and cons of his overbearing strictness explored in “Leonardo Lightens Up”, while his competitive nature turns compulsive in “Leonardo Versus Tempestra”. More than anything, his role is to serve as an anchor, ensuring TMNT stays somewhere in the neighbourhood of being an action-adventure cartoon and doesn’t float off into complete tomfoolery. 

Raphael is the inverse of Leonardo, encompassing everything that makes the Fred Wolf TMNT what it is – for better or worse. He’s the goofball, the one typically given the task of breaking the fourth wall, and if anything is actively pushing against what Leo is here to achieve. With his incessant zingers, Raph is the embodiment of everything that purists who resent the show for not being a faithful recreation of the Mirage comic dislike about it, a situation exacerbated by the fact that the 1987 cartoon version of the character is such an outlier, eschewing the angry, brooding depiction of him seen almost everywhere else. This idea that there’s something inauthentic about Fred Wolf Raph is so pervasive that modern media and merchandise based around the MWS show often skews towards making him “the angry one” instead of the wise guy. It’s an unfortunate bit of revisionist history that loses sight of the fact that 1987 Raph is wildly popular, perhaps now more than ever. The fans who like him really like his witty retorts, outings such as his memorable romance with Mona Lisa, and the entertaining performances from Rob Paulsen that brought him to life. His value is in keeping things light, and in doing so he differentiates TMNT from the earnest action cartoons that preceded it. 

Okay, but if Raph is the fun one, where does that leave Michaelangelo? I’d argue that his depiction as the team’s “party dude” is merely window-dressing, a means to convey what makes him marketable but which doesn’t really get at what makes him tick, in part because as alluded to above, in the early days of the show none of this stuff had been thought out. Anyone watching seasons one, two and much of season three would be forgiven for seeing him as one-dimensional, the cowabunga guy. Pizza, pizza, pizza. Dude, dude, dude. These aspects of him can be... grating, to be certain, when watching the series as an adult. Eventually we start to occasionally see beyond this. There’s a sense that Mikey is the youngest member of the team, even if there’s nothing in the show itself directly confirming this: by extension he’s the most innocent, sensitive, and personable member of the group, the one who’d be most likely to befriend you and invite you into the Lair if you were to encounter him, rather than viewing you as a threat. Michaelangelo is both the most “human” Turtle and the one who displays the greatest longing to live as a human, something seen in episodes such as season three’s “The Gang’s All Here” and the following year’s “Poor Little Rich Turtle”. When it comes down to it, Mikey’s character is easy-going but more importantly, he’s kind. There’s an irony in him being the one whose weapons had to be excised from the show entirely, though if anything I think that only gave him a little renegade appeal over and above even the other Turtles. 

Donatello has always been my favourite Turtle, and not just for aesthetic reasons as “the purple one”: coming in from Ghostbusters as many of us did back in the day, I think it’s natural that if you were on Team Egon, you were likely to be Team Donnie, too. He's the most creative Turtle and arguably the most introspective, two qualities that also make me gravitate towards him. Putting my biases aside, he’s by far the most necessary member of the team for the series to work: his intelligence and ingenuity seem to almost always play into the climax of any episode as the Turtles scramble to stop whatever enormous threat is facing the city, and without him it’s inarguable that Leo, Mikey and Raph would have been majorly screwed countless times over the course of the show’s run. Around the mid-point of the series his accomplishments seem to go to his head, and his abilities make him vastly overpowered relative to the other Turtles. Despite this, Donnie remains the big purple cog that keeps TMNT ticking. 

The show upholds its four main characters above everything, even in situations where this becomes detrimental, and this goes hand in hand with a focus on immediacy: what anyone else is doing isn’t a concern unless it will impact the Turtles somehow, and nothing that’s happened to anyone in the past matters unless if affects the team in the present moment.  There’s an unspoken anxiety at work in TMNT that runs throughout the series, apparent even at its height: a fear that if the Turtles aren’t front and centre, chasing the macguffin of the day, then young viewers will grow bored and switch off. 

These considerations are apparent in the series from the outset, affecting even the origin of the Turtles themselves, who in this continuity go from pet turtles to their established forms in the space of seconds: they’re not allowed to grow into their teenage selves over the course of years for the same reason that only the most barebones information is conveyed to us about the Hamato Yoshi / Oroku Saki feud that led to their creation. This show isn’t about getting caught up in the details, it’s about the Turtles existing in the present moment. 

Yoshi and Saki’s ongoing rivalry is one of the most fascinating aspects of the entire series, and yet one barely explored because the show only cares about the elements of it directly relevant to the Turtles. At some unspecified point in the past Saki framed Yoshi and took control of the Foot Clan because... he was just naturally power-hungry and evil, I guess (later we learned that his mother was also villainous, so there might be something to that). There’s a huge chunk of the timeline which takes place after this of which we know little, covering Yoshi presumably stowing away on a boat and beginning a new life as a penniless refugee living in the sewers of New York. By all rights the story should end here, with Saki having vanquished his enemy and now ruling over his own turf as the head of a criminal organisation in Japan, but his inability to let go keeps things rolling: at some point he follows Yoshi to America, sets up an elaborate network to spy on him, and in a botched attempt to kill his enemy inadvertently mutates the four heroes who will ultimately be his undoing: Leonardo, Michaelangelo, Donatello and Raphael. 

Oh, and along the way Saki happened to run into a disembodied alien warlord brain from Dimension X who had himself been on Earth for an unspecified amount of time, the two bad guys forming an alliance to achieve world domination. None of these events unfold on-screen as the Turtles weren’t involved: instead, Shredder and Krang arrive fully formed, how they met and the circumstances that led to them working together are deemed unimportant. Similarly, Splinter is a wise old man whose exact age is unclear, capable of applying mystical ninja abilities that vary depending on what the plot of the day requires. 

Given how scant the details of Splinter and Shredder’s feud were, it should perhaps come as no surprise that in the end, it was never resolved in any satisfactory fashion. By the end of the series Shredder and Krang were banished to another dimension by the Turtles for the umpteenth time, but the power struggle between Splinter and Shreds over the leadership of the Foot Clan that kicked all of this off doesn’t receive any closure; to make matters worse the final three appearances of Shredder and Krang tease the idea of them becoming... well maybe not good guys, but at the very least neutral figures having been overshadowed in the evil stakes by Dregg. I think by season ten, the viewers would have been ready for that: to have Shredder and Krang perform a heroic act to stop Dregg that definitively concludes their run on the show as villains, then let them ride off into the sunset. If we’re to assume there were plans for a twelfth season, there’s no reason that Karai or another villain new to the series couldn’t take their place. 

I’m going to skip over writing about Bebop and Rocksteady here as this post is long enough as it is, and I covered their contribution to the series in the entry for “Turtle Trek”. The only thing I would add is that if anyone was truly deserving of that elusive redemption arc and/or a happy ending, it was them: this is one of the areas where the Archie TMNT comic got it right, the idea of them living peacefully on the animal-friendly Eden Worlds providing an opportunity to for the duo to move on. 

April is perhaps the most important character in the show other than the Turtles: there are plenty of episodes in the first seven years of TMNT that don’t feature Splinter, Shredder or Krang but none prior to “The Legend of Koji” that don’t incorporate her into the adventure in some capacity. She's interesting to view through a feminist lens: for a character who first appeared on TV in 1987 in a cartoon primarily marketed towards boys, not only is she integral to the proceedings but from the outset she’s her own person, a (somewhat) established career woman who just happens to cross paths with the Turtles and strike up a friendship with them. Because of that need to keep the focus on the green teens we never get to see her grow much beyond this – she likes the Turtles, she likes getting to cover anything that will make for a Great Story™, but that’s as far as it goes. There are a few rare occasions where the show will toy with having a male guest character serve as a potential love interest for her, but it’s not central to what she’s about. First and foremost, April cares about journalism and about sticking up for her friends, the Turtles, and for a cartoon from 35 years ago it’s kind of refreshing that’s she’s allowed to maintain that focus. 

Irma’s introduction to the series feels as if it was intended to play up April’s qualities by bringing in someone who in many ways is her opposite: there’s little indicator that Irma cares about her job or is any good at it in the early goings, and while April only makes occasional references to finding a partner throughout the series, Irma is obsessed. Her desire to find a man to sweep her off her feet in some paperback romance novel scenario is a constant theme throughout the first four years of the show, and I get the sense that part of the intended gag is that all of this would come easily to April if she wanted it, but for Irma – frequently inferred by the show to be frumpy or plain – such things remain perpetually out of reach. 

When it comes to Turtles discourse there sometimes seems to be borderline hostility towards Irma, perhaps in part because she’s driven by a desire for those old traditions, but I think largely based on people focusing on her appearances in those first three seasons (the only ones people tend to pay attention to, especially outside of the fandom) and viewing her on a surface level: April, so the thinking goes, is glamorous and exciting, Irma is merely her gawky sidekick. I’ve consistently gone to bat for her throughout Turtlethon’s run precisely because The Struggle is Real: Irma exists, living and growing as a flawed human being alongside the successful, infallible April and her friends, the ever-valiant Turtles. She messes up, she fails, she frequently ends up being on the receiving end of pure bad luck but through it all she keeps going, persevering in the background while the focus remains on April and the Turtles. As the show continues, we start to see her maturation, both in terms of taking on different roles within Channel 6 and the downplaying of her man-hungry antics. By the end of season seven there’s a sense that Irma has grown into a fully capable person and shed her insecurities, culminating in her brief reinvention as an action heroine and her defeat of Krang(!) in “Shredder Triumphant!” 

There’s an argument to be made that season seven should have been the end point of the series, or at least that years eight through ten ought to be viewed as merely a possible continuation, a look into how things could have continued rather than something set in stone. The truth is that aside from maybe Shredder, the core cast is served poorly by the Red Sky era: the Turtles come across as miserable throughout, April seems adrift after moving on from Channel 6, ultimately losing prominence following Carter’s introduction to the show, Bebop and Rocksteady are robbed of any semblance of personality and Irma only makes two appearances in season eight before being unceremoniously dropped entirely. I’ll freely admit that by the end of season nine, watching each episode for Turtlethon was becoming a deflating experience: by that point the spark was gone from the show, and seeing what it had become just felt sad. Happily, things improved a bit in S10, but I can’t shake the feeling that Shredder, Krang and The Boys riding off in the pick-up truck at the conclusion of season seven would have been the right time for the Turtles to bow out.

TMNT ‘87 was looked down upon from the outset by readers of the Mirage comic who saw it as sacrilege, a mockery of everything the source material was about, and once newer animated iterations came along that adhered more closely to Eastman & Laird’s vision the perception of the MWS version took an even greater hit. Ironically there are a bunch of disgruntled guys around my age – Xennials and the youngest Gen Xers – who will now swear blind that the ‘87 Turtles are the one true faith, and that any deviation from the way the team were depicted then is a disgrace. Click on any TMNT post on Instagram, especially the ones pertaining to Mutant Mayhem, and you’ll find these dudes in the comments pissing and moaning about how much better things were in their day, when the Turtles were real tough guys and manly men, which is an oddly rose-tinted perspective of a show where a significant portion of fights were won with a cream pie or pizza to the face. That’s the thing: at its heart, Turtles is a fun adventure show, one that over its run draws heavily upon martial arts tropes, sci-fi macguffin chases, aliens, monsters, dimension hopping and occasionally time travel: these concepts are all part of the DNA of the superhero comic book, and in that respect, the show is absolutely in the spirit of the Mirage comics which were themselves conceived as both a parody and a loving tribute to that artform. 

That’s it. That’s what the point of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles show is: it’s a fun adventure cartoon that might not aesthetically resemble the Mirage comics, but it has an innate understanding of how to adapt the underlying concepts of those stories into a series that connects with its target audience. 

One of my intended aims for Turtlethon, in pulling apart and analysing every episode of TMNT, has been to dispel two commonly held stances about the show that I see online all the time: 

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1987) was never good. 

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1987) was only good for the first five episodes, everything after that was terrible. 

People who take the first stance are harder to reach. Some of them are from that group of Mirage readers who were around back in the day and still hold a grudge, but the majority of those who hold this opinion have a wider disdain for eighties cartoons in general. They dismiss the contributions of everyone who worked on these series entirely because they were all “thinly veiled toy commercials”: to them TMNT and every other show from that era are nothing but sound and fury, signifying nothing. I hope in my analysis I’ve shown how far this is from the truth: even the clunkiest episodes of Turtles occasionally have moments where the animators go above and beyond to create impressive sequences, and when the show was at the height of its popularity during seasons three and four these teams created a lot of television on a modest budget within a short timeframe. On the writing side, over the course of the series Turtles incorporates themes into its stories of environmentalism (including climate change and conservation), how sensationalist media and wealthy individuals in positions of power can cultivate hate movements against marginalised groups, and gentrification, to name just a couple of topics off the top of my head; an entire side season was also dedicated to having the Turtles travel around Europe to be exposed to its arts, history and culture. These efforts are a drop in the ocean compared to what the Archie Comics version of TMNT was doing during this period but are respectable, nonetheless. 

The second position – that the show goes off the rails after “Shredder & Splintered” - is something you’ll hear from viewers who have perhaps purchased the first few seasons or the entire series on DVD and have started watching it, but they’re not engaged with the source material. If you’re only half-watching the show, if it’s background noise while you perform other tasks, then the visual drop-off from “Return of the Shredder” onward combined with the drudgery of the Eye of Sarnath arc might make you wonder if there’s any point in venturing further. Undoubtedly there are stretches of the series that tested even my patience: the ungainly syndicated adventures in season four, the bizarre, sometimes directionless Vacation in Europe arc, and pretty much all of season nine. There’s still great stuff in there, however: the second half of season two is far stronger than the first, season three is full of classics such as “Turtles on Trial”, “The Ninja Sword of Nowhere” and the concluding Big Trilogy, and seasons four through six have phemomenal adventures and character spotlight episode scattered throughout. Season seven – the proper season seven, not the vacation episodes – might be the strongest stretch of adventures in the entire series as TMNT regains its focus and attempts to mature in step with its original audience. There’s so much good stuff in Turtles if you stick with it, and I can’t see how anyone could watch the series in its entirety and come away thinking only season one has value unless your criteria for what makes a good cartoon comes down purely to looking cool and some vague aura of edginess. 

ABOVE: A June 1990 TV Guide cover in which Ariel from The Little Mermaid mingles with Bart Simpson, Donnie, Leo and Raph. Yes, Bart is missing his ear, but also WHY DO THE TURTLES HAVE THREE TOES WHAT THE HELL

I hope that if you’ve never actually sat down and watched the 1987 version of TMNT from beginning to end that maybe the breakdowns of each adventure I’ve cobbled together for this blog will inspire you to do so, and that if you’ve seen the show before they’ll allow you to rewatch it with additional insight. More than anything, the goal of Turtlethon has been to point out why Turtles works, while also acknowledging the times when it doesn’t. It’s lost to history now, but there was a vanishingly brief window of time – pretty much just the entire calendar year of 1990 – where the ascendancy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in pop culture occurred in parallel to the rise of The Simpsons. The two series were linked by their indie comics origins and their anti-establishment appeal, however Simpsons was able to reinvent itself after the hype around Bart died down as one of the greatest TV series of all time by continuing to up its game and making Homer the central figure of the show. TMNT was never in a position to make that leap, hampered as it was by budgetary restraints, parental backlash and being more overtly targeted towards children, but as a body of work it still has value, and its longevity speaks to how strongly it resonated with viewers around the world. It is, in a word, tubuloso. 

---

When Turtlethon was in its early stages, I gave some consideration to what series I might like to deep-dive afterwards. I reference Transformers all the time on this blog and it’s without a doubt my First Fandom, so there’s a natural inclination for me to want to go back and examine the 98 episodes of that show. Between that and TMNT, Ghostbusters was my second major fixation, and there’s a lot of The Real Ghostbusters to explore too. 

The natural extension of our journey is to move on to Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation, but I honestly doubt it would be fun for me to write or for you to read. I dunno, maybe you want to see me rip it to shreds, but I'm unsure how much financial compensation I’d need to make up for the psychic damage that would inevitably be incurred. (The tip jar is there, if you’re so inclined; let’s just say that Yale could use an international airport.) Moving on to the 2003 version of TMNT would be much more fun, but also a tremendous undertaking that - for now - I don't want to approach. After years of writing about the Turtles, I’m exhausted. I’m also acutely aware that while Turtlethon has been beneficial for me in many ways as a writer – it's allowed me to refine my skills, to learn how to create and maintain a regular schedule, and made me a more effective editor, even if you’d never know it from the length of my posts – the time I’ve devoted to writing about the Turtles would have been better spent working on my own comic series, Corinne Morgan, Corbie, which has been on hiatus throughout the life of this blog. 

[SIDE NOTE: If you want to see me put my money where my mouth is, and if I’ve learned anything through analysing Turtles, read Corbie when the new edition of issue #1 comes out in a few weeks. Its influences are more rooted in the Archie version of TMNT than the MWS series, but if you like cute, light-hearted and socially conscious superhero adventures then I think you’ll soon become a dedicated flocker.] 

I’ve undoubtedly been teetering on the edge of burnout lately, and my workload has been further encumbered by the technical changes implemented by Tumblr that negatively affected the last two seasons’ worth of Turtlethon entries. Behind the scenes, I’ve gradually been making moves to port the blog in its entirety to a stand-alone website where all 193 entries can be enjoyed in the original format. The thinking is that this will allow me to also write about anything else that takes my interest, post my art and generally keep you up to date on the status of all my assorted ongoing projects. With that in mind, I’d like to introduce you to Portertronic, which is now live. The Turtlethon entries for the first two seasons of TMNT have been posted there already, with the rest of the series to follow in the weeks and months ahead. 

This isn’t the end, for Turtlethon or for this account: you’ll still see new TMNT posts from me here, as I have a laundry list of one-off bits and pieces related to the series I still want to explore. The plan is that new content moving forward will be made available first to Patreon and Ko-Fi supporters, then appear on Portertronic, and eventually get posted here too. To kick things off, there’s a pair of upcoming Turtles-related CDs I’ll be looking at as part of a crossover event to introduce Excess Volume, a sub-blog that will cover pop music of the 1980s and early 1990s. I’m not going away, just getting off the treadmill I’ve been on for the last couple of years, and trying to refocus on writing shorter bursts of material while I return to working primarily on Corbie. 

Turtlethon has always had a modest following – there are only so many people in the world who are interested in reading long-form analysis of a decades-old cartoon – but going into it I had zero expectations that anyone would connect with it at all. I’ve never lost sight of the fact that in real life, if a classroom’s worth of people were willing to listen to me talk at length about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles twice a week that would be incredibly edifying, and over time the readership grew to roughly double that. It probably should have been a YouTube channel from the beginning, but the thought of continually being struck down by DMCAs from Lionsgate ensured that was a non-starter, and perhaps that would have defeated the purpose. I like to draw, and I like to write – obviously! That you’ve indulged me in doing the latter and gushing about the Turtles for the last few years means a lot, and I hope you’ll join me – either through Corbie, over on Portertronic or here on Turtlethon – for the adventures still to come. 

#Turtlethon #teenage mutant ninja turtles #TMNT #TMNT 1987 #Ninja Turtles #I have always liked... cowabunga

[myevilmouse]

I had a professor who wrote old-timey sword & sandals fic. One day, I asked him if he inserted himself into any of the characters when he was writing - did he assume a character role. He was really surprised at the question, as much as I was surprised at the answer: why, no, actually - he hovered above the story as a neutral observer.

I, on the other hand, always identify with a character as I am either writing or reading (almost anything fictional) When I am writing, even though the story may be fandom/canon based, I usually like to endow either an OC or a canon character with some aspects of my own life.

My professor was astonished at this conflation of my life with fic.

Today, I will send this same Ask to several authors and see where YOU position yourself as you write fic: are you a neutral observer? Do you identify with a character in the fic? Do you purposefully create OC to blatantly endow them with your personal characteristics/history?

Same goes for reading fic: do you look for a character to identify with, or are you a neutral observer?

Thank you so much for participating in my little Ask survey (feel free to to expand as much as you like with the answers)

Thank you so much for this ask @beebee-76!  I am happy to be included in your author poll 😁

This reads at first blush like a fairly straightforward issue/question, but I am afraid for me the answer isn’t exactly straightforward. 

The most important aspect of enjoying fic (for me) is characterization—it can be beautifully conceived, written, and executed but if I’m there and Luke would never do that or Thrawn says something completely OOC (to my personal interpretation) it’s basically an unrecoverable fumble on the part of the author and I have a very difficult time continuing for pure enjoyment. 

^^ Fanfic writers everywhere making my man do crazy shit

I say “for pure enjoyment” because sometimes I will read something for a different reason—to support the writer, for example, or to see how a batshit crazy scenario was executed, or, let’s be real, for the smut.  But I tend to find that if characterization is good/I agree with it, I usually find everything to be good, so that’s where I start and end as a reader.  I don’t need to identify with any particular character and when I am thinking about this ask in particular, I’m like, nope, I don’t do that.  I have lots of fictional characters I adore but I would not say I identify with them when reading (or in hindsight).  I LIKE them, but I don’t necessarily look for (or see) myself in them.

Here is my disclaimer on fanfic in general: EVERYONE SHOULD WRITE THE CHARACTERS THE WAY THEY WANT. I've said it before and I'll say it again, make Luke a misanthropic scientist who is into bestiality, I don't care. I won't read it, but I will defend your right to WRITE it and to call him Luke Skywalker, that's the beauty of fanfic. If the Wiccans will forgive me, "and it harm only fictional people, do what thou wilt."

I will be the first person to ever wear out a gif, and this is the gif.

So as to your main question, I am sort of all over the place here.  I am with your professor in general—I attempt to tell a story as a neutral observer out of a sense of obligation to the characters.  However, I am admittedly able to do that by identifying with various aspects of their personalities.  That may sound convoluted, so I will explain a little more:

I have nothing in common with Mara Jade except we both adore Luke Skywalker.  So when I write a Luke/Mara fic, I feel like I would be doing a disservice to the character if I was imposing my personal traits upon her.  Yes, I’ve taken dance lessons but no, I’m not a dancer, so it can inform the way I write Mara dancing (or anyone dancing for that matter) but our mindsets are not the same.  I find her frustrating and sometimes obtuse, and I sincerely hope I am not like Mara in most ways.  But in order to write detailed Luke appreciation and Luke/Mara in general, I have to get in Mara's head and see how she would interpret something he’s saying or doing, or how she reacts or struggles.  This is really imagination, nothing more nothing less.

I also have nothing in common with Arihnda Pryce, hahah for that matter, at least I hope not.  I find many things to admire about her, and many things that are sympathetic in her biography, which I hold is necessary as a writer to capture her authentically (again with the disclaimer as I see her/read her).  But I do not identify with her, or, for that matter, Thrawn.

I tend to focus on shipfic, and the only OC I have invented in any depth is my art forger—Seta.  I don’t think I have much in common with her, but I have, to be fair, imbued her with a love of languages, art, dogs, and well, Thrawn.  These are all things I enjoy but none of them are intentional outside of being necessary to tell the story.

Let's be clear I'm not talking about writing FOR myself, I'm talking about identifying with the character. Yes I have a strong language kink, uniform kink, smut likes, etc. so you will see things I personally enjoy crop up in my stories of course (I am writing them for ME), but I hope (at least I like to think) that they only appear when logical and aren't smushed into an identity for random kicks. I'm thinking hard about this and invite anyone to chime in if I'm forgetting something egregious hahaha

Maybe one of my favorite things about being a writer is, as a true “pantser,” I never know where the story is going.  So there is never really (or rarely) an opportunity for me to say “oh, you know what, I’m going to have Luke do THIS or Pryce do THAT” because I personally enjoy it.  When my personality manifests in the story, I think it’s mainly in service of the story, such as using my pretentious art snob vocabulary to write a debate between Thrawn and Seta, or making Luke a vegetarian (like me!) because I honestly don’t see how anyone who is so in tune with the Force in all living things could be OK with eating meat once they get to a certain level of awareness.

None of this is to suggest that doing it another way is bad or bizarre, it's just not how I approach writing, I guess. I am an anomaly in many ways, I am well aware.

That was a bit long but I hope helpful for your survey! I had fun thinking about this! 

So to revisit your questions in a more TL;DR fashion:

Am I a neutral observer?  Sort of

Do I identify with a character in the fic?  As much as necessary to write them authentically

Do you purposefully create OCs to give them my personal characteristics or history:  Definitely not

When reading:  do I look to identify with a character or read as a neutral observer:  Neutral observer

Thank you again! 🥂

#myfic #authors on tumblr #asks #i like asks #my thoughts #fanfic is for fun #beebee 76

[blazehedgehog]

i remember someone asking you how would you conceptualize a sonic tv show a couple of years ago and you said something about taking the core aspects of the characters and make them play out like with batman TAS. if so, what other ideas do you have about something like that?

Well, first we'd have to identify what the universal ideal of Sonic the Hedgehog is. That's what Batman TAS did -- it took every variant of Batman ever created and distilled them down into their purest essence.

So my first inclination would be to just start over and maybe retell the events of the Genesis games but with new context, but that's not what Batman did. I'm not even sure how long it took Batman TAS to retell Batman's origin story (judging by this list, maybe 26 episodes). It assumes you know who the character is and tells very simple, iconic stories regarding that universe.

So then you have to ask yourself: what does the purest essence of Sonic look like?

Is it Classic Sonic? Modern Sonic? Something in-between? The above two are Tyson Hesse sheets, and I use them because one, I like the way he draws Sonic, and two, he's kind of been the guiding force behind Sonic's appearances in 2D animation in the last decade. The boy draws a good hog.

And in that regard, I believe he drew this as his way of trying to blend Classic Sonic and Modern Sonic design sensibilities:

Short, scruffy, and a little athletic. But still identifiably the way Sonic has always looked.

Unfortunately, I think Eggman changes too much to really blend two aesthetics together -- again, we're not so much looking to create "our version of Eggman", we're looking to create The Ideal Eggman. So we could probably settle with Classic Eggman and leave it at that. It's a more simplistic design, if nothing else.

From there you just start... telling stories. Not necessarily origin stories, like I don't think we really need an episode where we see Eggman build Metal Sonic. Metal Sonic is just already there.

If you do tell an origin story, it has to be in service of focusing on a specific element of what makes that character sing. Like, I mentioned episode 26 of Batman TAS was probably where they finally touched on Batman's origin, but that's because it's an episode about Crime Alley, the place Bruce's parents were killed. It's not a story about Batman's origin.

So if we tell Metal Sonic's origin story, it has to be referenced within something else as a pillar to strengthen the story being told. It cannot be an origin story about Metal Sonic, because you have to assume the audience already knows who Metal Sonic is. Again, you're not here to show how your Metal Sonic is different, you're here to show the perfect, idealized, purest distillation of Metal Sonic. This is every Metal Sonic in one, shaven down and polished to a mirror finish.

So then, what's interesting about Metal Sonic as a character? Well, he knows, on some level, that he's Sonic. He has some awareness that he's a copy, and he both wants to make his creator (Eggman) proud and also become the one true Sonic (by incapacitating or otherwise destroying the actual Sonic). He is also a creation of Eggman, so there's some desire to subjugate and rule the world in there somewhere (to be evil, in other words).

This means we have a villain with confused goals. He is controlled but strives to break free of that control. But he still wants to be evil. Maybe for reasons he doesn't really understand.

So maybe we tell a story where Sonic's out on a run, looking for a Chaos Emerald. No particular reason, just he thought it would be a good idea to collect one or two to have on hand just in case. Make it so nobody could easily have all seven.

As he gets close to where he thinks an emerald is, he gets blindsided by Metal Sonic, and they have a fight. Sonic reaches under the cuff of his glove and pulls out a tiny communicator he uses to radio Tails with, asking if he's heard any movement from Eggman recently. Tails has not. Then why is Metal Sonic out here?

Tails has Sonic lure him close to the workshop, where Tails runs a scan on Metal.

Turns out: Metal Sonic had the same idea as Sonic. Because Metal Sonic is operating on all of Sonic's thoughts and memories (a good aside to establish here), he independently decided to go on a mission to gather up some (or all) of the Chaos Emeralds "just in case" with the idea of giving them to Eggman. Obviously both Metal and Sonic know they're doing the same thing, so there's no easy way to get Metal Sonic to just stop and go away, right?

So, Tails comes up with an idea: a fake emerald, for a fake Sonic. I don't know that we have to reference Sonic Adventure 2 here, but maybe there could be an offhand reference about how Tails has "always had the technology to synthesize a fake Chaos Emerald." The problem now is getting Metal Sonic to believe the fake emerald is real.

Maybe, for the sake of the plot, a real Chaos Emerald has to be within proximity to hide the energy signature of the fake more easily. So now we have our episode finale: Sonic has to let Metal attack him, they have to fight over the fake emerald, but oh no Tails gets dragged in, and there's a mix up. Who has the real emerald, and who has the fake?

Everyone involved knows one of the emeralds is fake, and Tails has a piece of technology that helps him identify the real one, but it's easy to get confused as to who has which one (by design, that's why there's a real Chaos Emerald here).

The episode ends with our heroes (presumably) having the real one. We see Metal Sonic return to Eggman's city (Scrap Brain Zone) and there's a POV shot where it says "Deliver Emerald To The Doctor" like a mission objective. Metal Sonic pauses for a moment, staring in to the Emerald, and we see the objective get minimized for a new one:

"Take The Untold Power For Yourself."

Metal Sonic's hand transforms, or his chest opens up, or something happens where he's going to use the emerald to power himself up. He starts to accept the emerald's energies, everything looks like it's working just fine, but there's an anomaly, the wavelengths go haywire, and the emerald explodes.

Our final shot is a severely damaged Metal Sonic limping into Doctor Eggman's lab, who is completely unaware of what just happened. He dotes on Metal, cursing what Sonic has done to him. And Metal Sonic just silently stares.

Now I'm no Bruce Timm or Paul Dini, but to me, that gestures towards the type of storytelling I think a TAS-style Sonic show would lean towards.

#questions #Anonymous #sonic the hedgehog #sega #sonic team #batman tas #tyson hesse

[theredcapeofk]

20 Questions More

A deeper and more detailed version of the 20 questions for AO3 fanfic writers. Thanks @fazedlight for the tag!!

1) How do you keep getting ideas for your ship/fandom?

I have three main sources of inspiration:

my own brain where my ship and fandoms live rent-free.

tumblr: other people's works keep the passion alive and new ideas coming

discussing the ships and fandoms with other fans

2) Which authors inspire you in your fandom, and why are they so freakishly good?

So many of you guys do inspire me for so many different reasons it's hard to make a list.

3) Aside from the characters of your main ship, who are the characters you love to write?

I love to have Eliza around she brings a sense of calm and reassurance to my scenes. I also love to have Esme, she's so cute and I like having her melt everyone's hearts from sheer cuteness.

4) Are there pairings or tropes you know for sure you'd never write about? Which ones?

Writing and reading fanfics have taught me that my views tend to change on ships and tropes. So my never today could inspire me tomorrow.

5) What is your writing process and why is it cursed?

I don't know about a writing process... I get an inspiration and start writing. Sometimes I outline longer fics and sometimes the stories cannot be outlined so I let it write itself as I go. Of course I make the whole thing coherent.

If that wasn't cursed enough, I'll just add that there are times where my brain just won't English so I have to think my writing in French and translate it.

6) What is your favorite part of your writing process?

The outpour of inspiration that makes me write until my eyes/fingers hurt

7) What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to research for a fic?

I honestly don't remember. But every research I ever make for a fic is a fall down the rabbit hole. You start by a word research and two hours later you end up watching a tutorial on how to comb a Giraffe's hair...(It never actually happened, but you get my point lol)

8) Is there a particular writing rule you struggle with (grammar, spelling, tense, reality in general)?

Sometimes all of the above plus typos and the sequence of tenses? This used to never be a problem, but the further I get from my English classes the blurrier sequence of tenses become.

9) What was your hardest scene to write so far and why?

Fight scenes and action scenes. Like how am I supposed to describe who does what and how...?

10) Have your characters ever done something you didn’t expect, changing your plot completely?

Very often. In Change my Direction Kara was supposed to heal a lot faster. And then she didn't and here we are lol. In My Eyes are Up Here Kara was supposed to spill the secret sooner but she couldn't. And in a project I'm still working on on the rift era, Lena was supposed to cave in sooner but she's stubborn lol

11) If you could converse with any of the characters, who would it be and why?

Definitely Kara and Lena. I have so many questions and I would love their take on what canon left unsaid. I would also like to speak to Brainy and Cat. I would pester Brainy about the 31st century to know the extent of Kara's and Lena's legacy. I'd ask Cat how she managed to create Catco and also what finally gave Kara away.

12) What are some of the tropes or themes that you find yourself returning to in your writing?

Kara and Lena are always idiots in love in my fics and when they do admit their feelings to each other, they only live for one another.

As for themes, I tend to come back to the rift era because canon created a tension that needed solving and their version only broached the surface. And this conflict brought so many things to the surface for the characters there are so many alternate answers to be given I feel that it's an exploration that keeps on giving.

13) What's your most important resource as a writer?

My phone. I've been writing mostly on my phone for years and I love the flexibility it gives me. I can carry it around with me and write whenever inspiration strikes.

14) Can you share some of your strategies for editing and revising your work?

You guys actually have strategies for that? Hahaha. What I tend to do, is highlight words or sentences as I go along. Then, when I'm done with a chapter, I put the fic away for a few days and then I start re-reading the chapter from the start. Best-case scenario I take the highlights off, worst-case scenario I highlight more stuff lol. As some words need translating I try to do this step incrementally because I know how long or hard the language check can be.

When I get stuck to a point where I can't move on, I beg my English speaking friends for help. @lenaralanvers has helped me so much since 2021

15) Which is worse: making the summary, picking the tags, or the anxiety when you post your fic?

The summary is always my absolute nemesis

16) How do you define success for your fanfic - hits? Kudos? Comments? Bookmarks? Or just if you like it?

I think I define it from the hits.

17) Do you have a playlist for your favorite character/ship?

I do have a playlist for Supercorp and it's always growing. There's a lot of Celine Dion and Greek pop songs in it. There's something about Celine Dion's voice and late 90's and early 2000's songs that just screams Supercorp to me. The Greek pop songs have a special way of expressing pain and regret that fits perfectly with the rift era.

18) If fan art was going to be made from your work, which fic would you pick and which fan artist would you like to create it?

If I had to pick someone, I would commission them :). maybe 2024 is the year I finally do this.

And if anyone wants to create fanart from any of my fics please feel free to.

19) How many WIPs do you currently have?

Phew...tough question! I don't have time to actually count them all, but I'd say twelve? out of the top of my head. Some will be one shots, some will hopefully become multichapters.

20) What's your advice to new fanfic writers?

If you want to write fanfic go for it. Don't let anything or anyone stop you from ever writing. Never plagiarize anyone and if you get your inspiration from someone, always give credit.

- - - - -

Tagging (respectfully and without pressure). If you've done the game before, feel free to send me a link to it ;) @chaotic-super, @lenaralanvers , @inkedroplets , @fyonahmacnally if you want some rapid-fire q's thrown your way. But also anyone who'd like to do this!

#20 questions #writing

[relishredshoes]

Preventing Plot Holes

“The difference between reality and fiction? Fiction has to make sense” - Tom Clancy

I don’t think I need to tell most of you seasoned fanfic readers and writers what a plot hole is - like Potter Stewart, most of us “know it when [we] see it”.

Lapses in a story world’s logic when authors either bend their own rules or invent convenient new rules at the last minute. In a format as complex as long-form fiction (especially in a community largely made up of amateur or emerging writers, such as fanfiction), it’s little wonder plot holes are common. In some beloved source material the stories are good enough in all other respects for audiences to forgive the lapses — even using them to spawn elaborate fan theories, it is how much beloved fanfic began - but at other times, plot holes are so egregious problematic that even emotionally invested audiences respond with downright anger.

As writers, we combat this trap by using the tools available to us like story structure, character arcs, and outlining. The longer a story, or series of stories the easier it is to fall into this trap. TV series often end up “jumping the shark” because they give in to the temptation to rewrite or bend their world’s rules in order to keep the stakes high and the conflict raw.

So here are 4 useful questions to ask yourself to help avoid falling into a plot hole:

Do You Know Your Story’s Ending? In general, most story forms are designed to make a point—to present a cohesive picture of the lives of our characters that (either implicitly or explicitly) has meaning. This only happens when the story’s beginning and ending are part of a whole. The beginning asks a question that the ending answers.

Do You Have a Purpose for Every Character, Setting, POV, Relationship, Scene, Etc.? No stories avoid loose ends entirely. Indeed, many that try too hard to do so, often lack emotional truth because they feel manufactured. We, as fans originating in the HP ‘verse, are well aware of the fashion to include an epilogue that spelled out the remainder of the characters’ lives, but this robs the story of a sense of continuance. In my humble estimation, it is often of benefit to your story when a few minor subplots are not completely resolved, so readers get a sense of the characters living on even after the story’s ending. That said though, in order to create a story that leads satisfactorily into its Climax, every major piece within the story should be there because it contributes to that momentum. This is also accurate when you dial deeper into the themes and symbology of your work, if any particular “bit” ”— a character, a relationship, or a scene—exists within the story without expanding upon the theme or driving the plot forward in some way, it is probably extraneous and perhaps even deadweight. I have said it often and still believe it - kill your darlings. Don’t hold onto something just because you love it. If it doesn’t serve your story it is hurting it. If you maintain a tight rein on these aspects of your story from the beginning the less winding roads to deadends and plot holes they can lead you down.

What Is Your Antagonist’s Throughline? Very often we neglect our antagonist or villain up until we need them to show up and oppose our heroes, but if the audience doesn’t have a clear sense of the antagonist or villain and a reasonable understanding of their motivations it becomes almost impossible to employ them effectively at the climax of your story. They are two-dimensional and will leave any victory over them feeling flat too. Make sure they are present all the way through your story, setting the pieces and plans into motion - clearly establishing them as a force to be reckoned with so when the protagonist and villain meet the stakes are high and so is your audience’s investment in the outcome.

Is this the simplest way to set up my characters’ backstories and motivations? From the outset, you know you want your protagonist to behave in particular ways and to do certain things because you’ve already seen them being and doing those things in specific scenes in your mind’s eye. So you write the scenes and develop the backstory as you go - but the longer the piece and the more story events occur your character may find a need to be other things and to do other things so you change, retcon, or add onto their backstory. Before you realize it, your characters’ backstories might have moved from “complex” to “convoluted”. When this happens you risk creating a domino effect that ripples along the seams of through threads in your story and risks opening plot holes elsewhere in the story. (Like JK blithely introducing time travel as cannon and then having to explain away why no one saved the Potters, for example.) Over complicating your character's backstory and motivations is a great risk for allowing slips and lapses in the internal logic of the world you are writing and once that happens, your readers will find themselves pulled out of the story. So stick to the KISS principle (Keep It Simple, Stupid) and build your characters’ backstories and motivations out of the fewest possible moving pieces.

Happy writing folks! I hope this helps. Artist: Unknown. Found on Fanpop

#snamione #sevmione #sshg fanfiction #sshg #snamione fanfiction

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Hi! I adore your analyses.

If it isn't too much to ask, I would love to hear about your general approach to analyzing works. I wanna learn how to analyze things better from other people, and I really like the way you methodically break things down.

In other words, pls sensei teach me your ways HAHAHA

No trouble if you can't, though! Your blog is always a joy.

Have a wonderful day!

Sensei... 🫢

Ah, thank you, this is really flattering! I don't think I really do anything that special. Honestly, all it is was that I got misinterpreted a lot when I was younger and it made it difficult for me to express myself - so I ended up creating something of a system which I found seems to make things clear to others!

I can do a quick overview of it, for sure! I hope it helps! (It's under the cut :D)

Tip 1: Analyze things you love.

Look, this isn't school and I'm not a literary critic. I don't bother forcing myself to analyze things I'm just not feeling. Sometimes, I'll really enjoy something, but have nothing to say about it in particular. (Ex. Akutagawa. I adore him but for some reason don't feel compelled to analyze him as much... even though he's this blog's pfp...) That's not a commentary on the character/media nor my engagement with it. No need to analyze something you don't particularly care to - these write ups take a fair amount of time and effort, so you'll want to have enough raw energy at the start to sustain yourself. You should want to talk about it, is what I'm saying.

Tip 2: Understand the core themes of the story.

I cannot stress this enough! It's so important. The best stories will have their characters, plot arcs and settings all serve to enhance the major themes of the story in some way - figure out what these themes are, and keep them in the back of your mind. I think of themes like a filter - it should change the way you look at the story, and with any luck, draw a lot of seemingly loose threads together in interesting and surprising ways. There are typically about 2-3 major ones (Ex. BSD - living through uncertainty, good as a choice / Trigun - morality and autonomy, life after loss / Hatoful - love as salvation or corruption / there are other themes of course, these are just examples). From this point on, assume you have your "themes filter" active for completing the other tips.

Tip 3: Pick a small detail and think about "Why" and "How".

See, I used to go too big when doing analyses. I used to try and analyze everything there was to examine in one go, and it would become unwieldy and just have far too much information for me to juggle and process. So, it's better to start small. What's something that caught your attention? What was something you liked? Was there anything that confused you? Pick one thing... then ask yourself why and how. Why did I like this? Why did this character act in that way? How does this aspect of the story work? Etc. This will be your topic!

Tip 4: Read other people's thoughts.

I know we all hate going into tags and seeing some of the worst takes out there... so I don't actually do that. I only look through meta and theory tags, and most of those are done by people who put a lot of time and care into their theory crafting, so they at least usually bring the receipts. It always helps to read other's opinions. This is just a good thing in general - you need to open yourself up to different views. Even if you don't agree, you might be better able to articulate why you don't. There's some god-tier stuff in these theory tags, you just gotta look. :)

Tip 5: Pay attention to context and setting.

For most of the stories I analyze, the characters do not exist in a world or situation that is comparable to mine. Asking yourself "where did this character come from?" "what's the overall state of the world they inhabit?" "were this character's experiences different or similar to the rest of the cast? different or similar to their childhoods?" - this is really going to help you understand motivation, far more than core personality traits will alone. (Ex. remember that BSD is a newly post-war society. Tensions are still high. People are being hired at young ages. A lot of people grew up in the slums, and violence is common. How did the different characters interact with this world? What sides might one character have seen to this world that another didn't?)

Also, it's good to at least be somewhat aware of the author and the context they created their story in. Many of the works I analyze are from Japan. It's good to know where a work is from - typically you're going to see at least some expression of cultural values, and I find this is helpful to keep in mind. Some decisions made in story will make a lot more sense when you remember the story's place of origin.

Looking at author influences is also helpful! BSD has a great built-in source of background info, since the entire premise incorporates classic literature. This can be an excellent supplementary source!

Tip 6: Tell a story with your analysis.

Again, I'm doing this for fun. I'm not a literary academic, so I try to use conversational flow. I tend to write like I'm speaking - in fact, this is very much how I talk in real life. It's up to you the tone you set in your writing - just make it something that flows naturally. You can always go back and re-read it if something seems unclear.

What I mean by story is to break your analysis up into chunks. There's no hard and fast rule on how to do this. You can see a clear example of it in my "Dazai Likes People" post, which was long enough that I bolded the sections. It should have a beginning, middle, and end, roughly - beginning where you say what you want to analyze or lead into it somehow, middle (which I typically break up into individual topics), and the end, which honestly is just a rephrasing of the beginning (or sometimes I just leave it out). Sometimes, to break things up I'll add quotes or images that help me with my points; these serve as visual interest so the reader is not faced with a continuous wall of text. Bolding and italicizing key points can also do the trick.

A good way to see if the analysis flows is to see if you can say "so then..." between each paragraph. (Ex. Point 1 -> "so then..." -> Point 2 -> "so then..." -> Point 3, etc.) Each point should flow into the next - I try to make something of a narrative out of it. (It's why the word "so" pops up a lot in my analyses haha.) I'm sorry, I feel like this is the part that's the hardest to explain in a way that's easy to follow. It's mostly practice, really. It's also subjective how you want your analysis to read.

Tip 7: Fact check!

I hate spreading misinformation. Mostly because it's frustrating to have constructed a theory only to get called out that it's based on something misremembered, but also because, as a science student, I'm really mindful of keeping track of my sources. Always have your sources on hand! I spend at least three re-reads of my analyses consulting books, episodes, and manga to ensure that everything I've added is correct. (I might go a bit overboard with it sometimes... I can be a bit paranoid about this...)

And finally, my Golden Rule: ✨Explanation, not Justification!✨

If you have no other takeaway from this post, please remember this! Every character in the story should have their actions be explainable! This does not mean justifiable! Explanation is not just logic, and should always take into account character values, emotions, and situation. This will help prevent analyzing characters only from the perspective of relatability, and is very useful when analyzing antagonists/villains.

Character analysis is always about drawing a throughline between motivation and action. It's not about whether you would do the same, or whether you agree, or whether it is a choice you would forgive.

Everyone has their reasons for doing what they do. This is true in fiction, and it's also true in real life. I try to always keep this in mind.

I hope this was helpful to you, or to anyone who might want to read it!

#what do i tag this as...? #analysis writing reference #thanks for the ask! #storyrambles #thank you again!!!

[variousqueerthings]

parallel watching from the beginning while watching s9, making me think more and more about trapper’s particular tragedy in this series of tragedies 

he becomes symbolic of hawkeye’s lack of catharsis and in bj’s jealousy of him, so that his own reasons for doing things become obscured by what they need him to be/turn him into/when they evoke him

and trapper is different to every other character that leaves in that he doesn’t get a clear wrapping up of his story (because of wayne rogers’ issues with the show), and it fits -- in a watsonian way it really really fits

post s3 there are stories that spell out things that have been building in subtext for awhile + subjects that are brought up with different angles again and again, but feelings that people have before that exist largely more as subtext -- and that’s the part of the story that trapper physically inhabits

later on trapper is picked at like a loose tooth but he doesn’t have a voice to actually do any of that explaining himself, so when you go back and rewatch 1-3 it’s very interesting to do that examination yourself (and you have a benefit that neither hawkeye nor bj have, which is that they have to operate on memory or stories, whereas you can pause the screen)

because trapper doesn’t say much about why he does what he does, you derive that he’s neatly creating a divide between war and home from context clues (cheating on his wife, getting especially melancholy whenever he reads letters from her and his daughters, deflecting when hawkeye mentions he’s married, not giving hawkeye a proper goodbye, the very particular advice he gives hawkeye about shutting your eyes/sleeping to forget about the war for a bit, the way he handles hawkeye’s bouts of extreme impulsivity, etcetc)

but he’ll never be able to say. in fact, it seems pretty likely that his plan is to go home and never think about the war (and by extension hawkeye) ever again, which is its own tragedy, because... well how can he not? the most he can do is  shut his wife and children out of his life, while he’s regularly invoked like some kind of spell by the people still in the place he pretends was a dream

hawkeye may feel like he’ll never get context or closure with trapper, and bj may feel intense anger and envy at everything trapper’s story has been that he can’t do or have, but trapper is never getting that closure either, nor did he ever ask to be anything more than a man trying his best to get through something horrible, same as the rest of them. he didn’t ask to be hawkeye’s stability, and he certainly didn’t ask to be bj’s predecessor (it works both ways...)

you understand hawkeye’s and bj’s pain and anger, but they’re both wrong (as is evident by the way trapper’s ghost hangs around) -- trapper hasn’t escaped anything at all, he’s still just as trapped as they are, only he doesn’t have his own voice with which to have some agency over his story, and if that ain’t a haunting I don’t know what is

#trapper mcintyre #yes yes it's a ghost story #and trapper's ghost is more potent than any others #and he's begging to be let go #but hawkeye and bj just can't #im watching MASH #MASH #my point isn't that trapper DOESN'T say things in s1-3 #but he doesn't get to in the same way #he's a bit fuzzy on the edges like he's never been quite real #especially considering 1-3 feel like the prologue #there are 8 whole seasons after that #henry might have died but trapper just... disappeared #what's worse? #KNOWING someone is gone or always feeling like they're just around the corner #it's like those haunting stories about people who disappear and then the lead sees them everywhere #stop rambling now

[relicsongmel]

Welcome! My name is Melanie/Mel (call me whichever you like) and this is my place to shout into the void about things I'm way too obsessed with. I'm 25, female, pan(demi)romantic asexual and also autistic/ADHD as hell. I post about a variety of things but here are the fandoms you're most likely to see (in no particular order):

Pokemon/Pokeani

Ace Attorney

Bleach

Inuyasha

Animal Crossing

Stardew Valley

Love Nikki

Undertale

Other things to know about me:

Personal posts will be tagged as [#mel's musings].

I have two tags [#little songbird] and [#forest for the tree] for my OCs Sylvia and Denise, respectively. They're my two pseudo self-inserts reflecting different aspects of my personality that I can throw into whatever fictional universe I'm hyperfixating on in the moment for my own enjoyment. Specific details about the plotlines I create are for me to know (aside from any brief ramblings I may leave in tags) but if you're curious about the characters themselves I'm more than happy to talk about them! I love my girls <3

In addition to the fandoms listed above I am also EXTREMELY autistic about music—I have a background in piano/classical singing and have been in choirs all my life since 4th grade. I have been bestowed with the blessed (and sometimes cursed) combination of absolute pitch as well as pitch-color synesthesia. The former is the ability to identify pitches without a reference note and the latter is a phenomenon where my brain associates certain musical keys with certain colors, temperatures and scenery among other things. It is a HUGE special interest of mine—ask me questions about it and I will literally love you until the end of time I'm serious. Even if it's as simple as sending me a song and asking what color it is or asking me for thoughts on video game OSTs because I have a LOT

A follow-up to the above point: I love all things music theory and analysis and whatnot but in my excitement I have a tendency to get a bit TOO technical sometimes. I will do my best to make things as accessible as possible in my personal posts or when answering questions directed towards me (unless you specify it's not needed) but if that's not your niche any posts of this nature will be tagged as [#music nerd shit].

BE WARY OF FOLLOWING IF:

You are weird about multishipping. I like many ships for many different reasons and there's a lot of overlap between characters (just as an example: for Ace Attorney I am primarily a Narumitsu/Wrightworth shipper but I also enjoy Krisnix, Feenris, Gumworth and Langworth and I will make posts about all of them). All ship posts are tagged as such but it's something to be mindful of

You are a minor. You know yourself and what you're comfortable with better than I do but be aware that I'm an adult who posts about adult topics sometimes, and should you choose to follow me I am not responsible for you stumbling upon content that you are not ready for (and should you choose to complain to me as such I've got a block button with your name on it). This is the only warning I will give on this topic so please heed it accordingly

You dislike long tag ramblings. I tend to do that a lot, so if that's not something you can just Ignore than this blog may not be the place for you (side note: if my tags on a post ever don't make sense there's a decent chance I'm just having a conversation with one of my mutuals through tags because some of them Do That. Deal with it)

You are overly invested in pro/anti discourse. I have things that squick me out just like anyone else but if I see something I don't like I just block and move on. It is not my job to police the behavior of random strangers on the internet and I don't need any of you weirdos trying to convince me it is please for the love of god go outside

KEEP YOUR TERF/RADFEM BULLSHIT, EXCLUSIONISM OR BIGOTRY OF ANY KIND THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME. IF I SEE ANY OF THAT SHIT I WILL BLOCK ON SIGHT

If you follow me and need anything specific tagged (whether it be for spoilers or other reasons), shoot me a message and I'm more than happy to oblige.

My askbox is always open if you'd like to talk about anything at all whether it be fandom shit, music nerd shit or otherwise. If you'd prefer me to answer privately please specify as such when writing your ask.

If we are mutuals and you'd like to get to know me more, feel free to message and ask for my Discord! I'm not a part of any servers at the moment because that sort of thing intimidates me, but I do enjoy talking to my friends there and you could be one of them. If you'd like. But you need to make that clear to me first so hmu if you're interested <3

And that's about it, really! Enjoy your time here and I hope something nice happens to you today <333

#pinned post #about me #last updated: february 2024