Hey! Can I suggest a tired & flustered Azul or Leona? Both are personal favorites
Hihi I gotchuu anon thank you for the requestt <3
also a bit off-topic but im indian-american (not native, like the asian country) and im the same shade as as leona which is why i hate hate hate when people talk about him blushing it'd be vy hard to see and i know its so weird and theyre good writers blah blah blah just a little pet peeve
Leona Kingscholar
You were currently being pulled into the arms of none other than the Prince of Afterglow, Leona Kingscholar. That wasn't particularly new - ever since you two started dating, Leona seemed to have a newfound love of cuddling you. It was pretty cute, actually. He really did act like a big cat sometimes.
Today, though, he seemed especially tired. He was always a bit tired - you knew why, and it wasn't a pretty story, but you had to digress - today, he seemed even more tired than usual.
It made sense. He had to pull an all-nighter yesterday catching up on paperwork for the Spelldrive club, something you still couldn't believe he'd actually done instead of just throwing the job onto Ruggie.
Still, he looked just about ready to collapse. You were getting pretty concerned.
"Wanna go to bed?" You asked, taking the opportunity to card your fingers through his hair. For once, he didn't try to hide the way he leaned into the touch. He pouted, though, and at that moment, you thought your heart was going to explode.
Leona, calm, always composed Leona was pouting at you. He looked almost like a kid right now.
You couldn't help the hearty laugh that escaped you. Leona huffed at you, angling his face in a way that made his dark circles much too prominent.
"Really, though," you said. "Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning."
Leona mumbled something.
"What was that?"
"Come with me, herbivore," he said, more mumbled, and though it wasn't visible, you could tell he was blushing. The way he couldn't meet your eyes said it all.
He was surprisingly honest today.
He probably took your silence for teasing or the like, because he turned away with a huff.
"You can," he said. "I don't really care either way."
You smiled. It was genuine, not an ounce of teasing. You weren't going to do that, now when it was already so hard for him to be more vulnerable with you. It was overjoying just to know he was being honest.
"I'll take you up on that offer," you said, and that poorly hidden smile made every moment you'd have to spend listening to him snore worth it.
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul was working this evening. That was fine - he'd literally taken you out on a date so custom-tailored to you it made you wonder how exactly he knew you so well yesterday, you weren't going to complain about his performance as your beloved.
But he seemed tired. No, no, that was an understatement. He seemed like he was about to pass out any moment now. And yet, by some miracle, he was still working.
You had to perform well has his beloved, too. And that meant taking care of him when he was ill - or in this case, so tired he might as well have been.
"Azul?" you called out, and the thirty seconds it took him to process your voice and turn to look at you said it all. "Don't you think you should go to bed?"
After a few seconds, he shook his head blearily.
"'Can't," he mumbled, his words slurred. "Work."
You vaguely understood what he was trying to say. He couldn't sleep, he had work to do.
But it didn't seem like he was going to get much done in his current state other than pass out.
"Sleep, please," you said, and you were honestly shocked at how gentle your voice sounded. Being in love with Azul really did things to you, huh?
"But the money!" he whined, and you couldn't help but laugh. The money? That's what he cared about right now? How much money did he actually think he'd lose from sleeping? "'Want money."
This was the love of your life. This man.
Seeing you laugh, he huffed, cheeks bright red.
"Stop laughing," he said, pouting. "Ugh. 'S why you have no money."
Cold, Azul. Cold. Even in his current state, he had to remind you of your painfully broke reality.
"Then you'll have to help me make some, then." You said, trying to appeal to his love of rambling about finance. "Why don't you teach me? We can go to your room while we're at it, more privacy that way."
He nodded shakily, cheeks still a bit pink.
"I'm very-" he cut himself off, trying to pronounce somthing. "'Nevolent. Be-ne-vo-lent. I'll help you."
"Thank you so much," you said, and he followed you to his room.
You couldn't wait to see how embarrassed he'd get in the morning.
Bonus (Of sorts):
"I said what?"
"Yeah, and your face was so red! You kept slurring over your words, too. You couldn't even say 'benevolent'! Isn't that, like, your signature word?"
"Stop teasing me already!"
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on jogging
I took up jogging 2.5 months ago. I'm going off the c25k schedule, which slowly ramps you up from couch potato fitness to being able to run a 5k. This was much more effective than just trying to get into jogging by mimicking other, fitter, joggers, which was what I did every previous time I briefly tried to get into jogging. I feel embarrassed for never having thought of this before – it's clear that 'my brain was off' in those times when I went mimicry-running.
One issue that made me get into jogging so ineffectively: I didn't realize how terrible my starting physical fitness was. I used to think I was… like… normal? No athlete, for sure, but I'm a "normal amount of miserable" on hikes (and can complete most of them), I'm an intermediate boulderer, I rarely notice activities I'm gated from because of fitness. But when I started c25k with three partners, none of whom regularly jogged, they were all significantly less winded than I was.
And for the first dang time in my life I explicitly had a thought that went, "I can run 1 minute before my body forces me to stop. My partners can run 3-4 minutes. Some people can run 30 minutes."
Once I actually had any sense of "jogging levels" it was so clear how close to the bottom I was when I started out. That gives me some hope that being much fitter will solve my fatigue problems?
I used to be able to run 1 minute, and now I can run 2. By one (terrible but also kind of reasonable?) metric, I'm twice as fit as I used to be. But a nontrivial fraction of the population can jog 30 consecutive minutes! It seems worth getting to that point to see what that does to my energy levels / cognition.
–
Also: I haven't been sticking to the c25k schedule. I go 1.5 times a week where it expects 3, and I stuck a level between week 2 and week 3 because the 1.5m->3m jump looked insane to me. I've been on that custom level 2.5 for a month. I had a mindblowing conversation with the giant and 81k yesterday where I went, yeah, I've been stuck at week 2.5 because I've felt unready for week 3. And they said, that's probably because you're not going enough.
What do you mean? I asked. I've run about a full session and a half session every week for four weeks. Isn't that the same as 3 full sessions every week for two weeks?
No, they said, surprised I didn't know this. There's an optimal timing. If you'd probably stuck literally to the c25k schedule you probably could have gone from level 2 to 3 in a week.
GYARJRGH? I said. FUSBARIJIJJLK?
(I still disbelieve the literal claim that I can go to level 3 after doing level 2 properly, but I believe them that I would be leveling up a lot faster if I stuck to the schedule)
–
Anyway, some things I'd like to say to my past self, who felt obligated to work out for fatigue issues and then proceeded to exercise very badly because there was such a big ugh field around the topic of exercise:
You do not realize how big the gap between you and even moderately athletic people is. This is good, actually. It means that the correct place to start is easier than you think.
You should try to do it like 3 times a week. Date a jock. There are some on tumblr
Consider starting this when you have positive pressure rather than negative pressure. When you're buckling under multiple joy-sparking projects and want to rise to the challenge, it will be much easier to start & stick to it than when you're an anhedonic lump who has nothing to look forward to, but knows that exercise will in theory make life better in some vague way.
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Yours (Reader x Platonic Yandere!Imposter)
I can't walk on my knee, and apparently, knee-pain is the best motivator to write because I sat down and wrote this. Not sure if it makes sense, but alas.
CW: Yandere, monsterfuckery, reader has a brother, mental anguish, straight up no one has a good time in this story, not proofread, dead dove
Minors DNI
Today was an important day.
You hadn’t slept very well, still exhausted to the bone. Nonetheless, you had dressed up nicely for the occasion. A certain anxiety flittering and forcing you to fiddle around with trinkets and empty frames. You really should find a picture for that frame, then again, pictures was always more your brother’s thing.
The unrest culminated in said empty frame receiving a crash course in gravity, repaying the favor by glass shattering across the floor.
Damnit.
“Breaking the apartment?”
You were immediately faced with that question when you sheepishly emerged from your room to search for a broom. Asked by none other than your brother, James, who was lounging comfortably on the sofa, flipping through a magazine, he made a hand motion urging you to come sit too.
“Not yet. I dropped something, alas, my hands must be as smooth as marble, it just rolled right out of them.” You sighed and shrugged, awaiting the usual punchline expectantly. James made the grand sacrifice of looking away from the pages of his magazine to direct a raised eyebrow at you.
“Smooth as what now?” He asked, and your arms dropped, for a moment your expression did too, caught off guard. You collected yourself quickly though.
“Marble. It’s either this lame joke or self-deprecation.” At this, you dramatically sighed and lifted your hand to your forehead, “Oh, it seems even picture frames flees from my touch.”
James wrinkled his nose at this. “Ugh, no, I’d rather have Mx. Marble Hands back then.”
“I’m afraid they’ve perished. Marbled to death. Investigations still ongoing, my money’s on the picture frame.”
“Well, then they kinda had it coming, don’t you think?”
You gasped at this. “Vengeance is never the answer, haven’t you watched any children’s cartoons?”
“Not a child, so no.” He answered dryly. He had been a child at some point, so you weren’t sure what to make of the answer, feeling a bit at a loss, but you powered through.
“Mx. Marble hands deserved better than this. I’d hate to be them right now.”
“I’d hate to be them anytime. Now, please shut up about it and come sit down.”
“Despite how politely you asked, I can’t. Believe it or not – some of us actually have plans.” You said with a joking “hmpf”.
“Whaat, plans? No way.”
“Wha- what’s with the immediate disbelief? Today is an important day. Today’s… It’s…” You furrowed your brow as you faltered, not noticing the way James’ attention sharply focused on you. “…Today is important, isn’t it?”
But why? What was happening today?
“Oh, probably some kind of fight day or independence day? You were always sappy for those.” James laughed, and your expression relaxed as you rolled your eyes at him.
“It’s important to celebrate that kind of stuff.” You laughed, even though it still felt wrong. Feeling restless once more but without knowing what your plans were, you settled on the sofa next to James who abandoned his magazine in an attempt to convince you to play Street Fighter together, though at your continued rejection, he dejectedly played solo, shifting, and settling up against you as he played quietly.
Relishing the comfortable familiarity and domestic bliss, you closed your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the ache of your tired limbs coming to a rest, and most of all, enjoying the quiet. You liked it much better when he didn’t speak. And then, you felt startled at the thought, how mean it felt. You didn’t like the fact you had thought it at all, so you focused on something else.
You glanced at the sole item on the empty wall: The calendar. It was tacky and ugly, but you had some fondness for it, it was the first item you bought when you moved out to live on your own.
No, you didn’t live alone, you lived with James. Right, the first item for when you and James moved out.
You kept glancing though the date felt significant, it didn’t invoke memories of why, and you felt an odd sense of distanced anxiety at this, worried if you were possibly late for whatever your plans was, yet not feeling anywhere enough panic either, settled into lukewarm worry instead.
“You trying to make time fly faster or something?” James asked, not looking away from the video game he was playing (and losing). You looked away from the calendar at that.
“Maybe it’s just that painful to see you repeatedly lose Street Fighter. You know, you can crouch and kick on repeat, right?”
“I have something called integrity and honor.”
You glanced one last time at the calendar, the date keeping captive the corners of your mind, the ones that felt fuzzy and blurry – just out of reach from what you could comprehend. As you finally gave up on the calendar, you noticed the wall.
Had it always been this empty?
Somehow, the sight made you feel uneasy. “Hey James, why don’t we take some pictures?”
“…I really don’t like that kinda stuff. I’ve never understood the craze about phones and cameras.”
“Oh, I get why you’re bad at games now. You’re actually an old man.”
“Aw, shut up.”
You didn’t take notice of the way James looked at you, your own gaze fixed on nothing at all, an ambiguous expression on your face, as if unable to settle on an emotion among your conflicted, confused state. It was a buzzing, prickling sensation, like when regaining feeling in a numb limb, and it felt like you could unearth what these emotions were, if you just, held on a moment longer, if you let the numbness subsize just a little m-
“How about playing a song on the piano?”
“Oh? Uh, I don’t play the piano.” You said, disorientated, the numbness spreading again. James’ face dropped briefly.
“Then why don’t we watch a movie?”
“Yeah. Of course, sure. Can it be Beauty Squad” You answered almost reflexively. Happy for a distraction, you clung onto the suggestion, as if drowning your own senses in familiarity. James’ resigned compliance to your usual movie-choice felt like a warm blanket, a blissful cover.
The fatigue sitting in your bones made you give in to its warm embrace, how long had you been awake? It was hard to tell when being conscious and unconscious all felt the same.
Familiar tones played out, familiar lines, familiar antics. You thought James wouldn’t like you to rest your head in his lap, but he hadn’t said a thing in protest, silently letting you. Only the sounds of the movie filled the room as James absent-mindedly played with strands of your hair.
If this moment could last forever, then maybe everything would be okay. You could close your eyes to this moment and…
The music became chaotic and fast as the main character crashed down into their own graduation ceremony, saying a corny punchline before the cartoonish chase resumed.
“Pfft,” Your laugh caught James’ attention, and of course, he demanded to know what you were laughing at. “Ah, nothing, nothing. It’s just, this scene is just like when you accidentally interrupted your own graduation ceremony to take pictures.”
“…” James didn’t respond for a moment. And you looked at him… Right, he was in high school right now, wasn’t he?
“It’s… It’s nothing.”
You tried not to look at the empty wall.
You stood up. “Hey, the movie’s still going, sit back down.”
It took you a moment to respond, your mouth felt so dry, and a wave of dizziness hit. “I… I just wanted a snack. I’ll be back in a moment.” James looked blankly at you for a moment, and for a moment it felt as if he was examining you, like standing before a judge, and then he nodded.
You walked, part of you protesting needing permission from him to leave, but your mind wasn’t made up either, stuck in the desire to stay but feeling drowned, as if being swallowed by a vastness. You had to leave. To move. Something. Anything.
Drowning in the dark thoughts of your mind, it felt as if it would burst. Part of you wanted it to, tempted to hit your hands against your temple, as if to make everything spill, splash across the floor and far away from you.
Instead, you walked to the kitchen. One step, then the next. You wondered, in these moments, if he knew how it felt to die while breathing, to drown while on land. One step, then the next. It was all you could do.
In the kitchen, you opened the fridge only to be greeted by empty rows. No one had gone grocery-shopping it seemed. Right, that was your job, wasn’t it? Who else could it be? James was… he was a teen, right. Yeah, that’s right, you were alone.
No. Not alone. James was here, just, you were the only adult here. That’s right.
…
Grocery shopping, right. How long had it been since you went grocery shopping? When had you last gone outside? You looked down at yourself. You were dressed nicely. Right. Today was an important day, wasn’t it?
You felt lost and dizzy, seeking something to support yourself, your hand landed on the wall. The empty wall. Why was this wall also so empty? All of them was empty.
You mistook desperation for determination as you began to look through drawers to find an instant camera. You knew James had one lying around here. Your James had so many cameras.
“But James doesn’t like cameras.” You repeated joylessly. Nonetheless, in your hands, an instant camera. On clumsy feet you began to sneak toward the living room. James, unaware of your presence, sat on the sofa, waiting.
Click.
Looking down at the picture. It hadn’t developed yet. You’d find tacks or something so you could hang it. The sofa creaked as James stood up. He had heard the click probably, and noticed you standing awkwardly in the doorway, clutching something to your chest, of course.
You think, in the back of your mind, that James said something, but you head felt light, as you looked at empty walls. Temporarily empty walls. It would be better now, if you could just fill them out, your life could return to normalcy, and you’d return to the ground.
You looked down at the photo in your hand. Shapes were slowly starting to form, making way for imagery. It was only a flash, barked, hollowed skin, wrongly bent joints, and a yellowly glow, then something grabbed tightly onto your wrist, the photo snatched from your hand before it finished developing.
It was James grasping your wrist tightly, pupils dilated and a tight expression on his face. Then he sighed. “Playing spy, are we?” He smiled but the smile felt sharp and tight, and his laugh felt forced and bitter.
“I… I think I need to lie down.”
“Alright.” He nodded, leading you toward the sofa, but you weakly pulled against his grip, shaking your head.
“In my bed.” You needed to get away, his presence felt cloying, and the empty walls felt as if they closed in on you. You needed a moment. He didn’t stop tugging you toward the sofa, your limbs felt too weak to put up any real resistance.
“Don’t be silly. I can watch over you better from the sofa.”
You pulled harshly at his grip. “No!” He stopped and looked at you for a moment. And you felt little under his glance, unable to explain yourself properly. He was trying to help, but it was wrong, something was wrong. The walls was empty, the fridge was empty, the apartment was… “I… Just a moment, I’ll be out in a moment.”
After a moment, he released your wrist. “Okay.”
You stumbled a bit, having unconsciously relied on the support of his grip. It was the same old sensation of falling, yet your feet never left the ground, was it a dive into nothingness, or a flight into something worse? You never learned because each time, like an anchor, you’d be pulled to the harshness of the ground by a hand on your shoulder and another distracting line, it pulled you back but never caught you in your fall.
You wondered where’d you land without an anchor.
You hurried to your room and was greeted with shattered glass. Right. From earlier, you had needed a broom, and you had to hurry because today was an important day. Your foot touched the broken frame.
The empty walls were left behind, but the room felt even smaller, and you felt tired. Too tired to push against the pressure building, letting it swallow and choke you. There had to be… a picture. Something to put in the frame. Why else would you have it?
Looking through bottom drawers and beneath your bed, it was hard to tell if you had dived onto your knee or if they had simply buckled beneath the weight of your own desperation, glass shards dug into skin as you looked through cloudy eyes.
And, in the corner under your bed, hidden away by pieces of cloth and scattered objects, was a little box. You pulled it out, your hands shook as you opened the little lock with practiced ease, as if you knew the box already.
In the box was carefully placed pictures, all wrinkled as if having been held often. On the roof of the box was a date scribbled, today’s date. You were in many of the pictures, sticking your tongue out at whoever was taking it. And some of them, there was another person, usually laughing together with you.
For a moment, you almost wanted to ask; Who’s that?
Something within you felt like it was going to burst. “James?”
This guy whose smile was entirely different, whose eyes were different, whose build was different – who was different. This was James, and for a moment, you had forgotten. Someone you loved and held so dear; you had forgotten until reminded.
Each time you looked away, it grew hazy once more, and it took just a second longer to recognize the picture again. It felt as if you’d break beneath it all.
“Oh, you want me to pause the movie?” James’ voice called out from the other room. No. Not James. Whoever that stranger was, it wasn’t James, they didn’t even bear a semblance. You wanted to scream and cry and ask, no, demand answers from this imposter.
“Hello, you hear me?” His head peeked through the door-opening, and every word died on your tongue as familiarity enveloped you. It wasn’t… It was not James. Your grip tightened on the picture, as if to remind yourself.
“Hey,” he said, a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
You didn’t respond, didn’t know how to. But perhaps you didn’t need to as he saw the scattered photos among bloody glass shards. “Come out, I’ll bandage your wounds.” Was all he said.
“You’re not him. You’re not my brother.” It felt like pushing a boulder just to say that. The words felt foreign in your mouth, but you held onto the truth the best you could.
“What’s different about me?” he asked. You hadn’t been prepared for that question. Retaliation, denial, anything but that question.
“It’s… Different. You…”
He laughed. “You really do need to lie down; you must be half-asleep or something.”
No. For the first time today, you felt awake. “No. I know I’m right. You’re not…” You all-but flung the picture of your brother at him. The picture now in view, the person in front of you grew unfamiliar again.
“Does it really matter? If you need a picture to notice we’re different?” Before you had a chance to even respond, he leaned closer, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look away from the scattered photos. “Try it. Describe him.”
…You couldn’t.
“But when you look at me, you remember. Who cares if the memories are right?”
There was a temptation of giving into the sweetness that clung onto his words, the sweet lie feeling more welcome than a truth you feared facing. But you could still feel the photos beneath your fingers, feel the sting of the shards in your skin.
“I care!” Your voice raised and cracked, sharp and jagged like the shards.
Frustration slipped into his sigh. “For now. But as always, you’ll forget again. There’s no point in this tantrum. You don’t want to remember anyway, you’re too fragile for loss, so just-“
His words were interrupted as you nicked his cheek with one of the glass shards. At this he stepped back, releasing your chin. His expression’s thinly veiled exhaustion and annoyance gave way for clear resentment and frustration.
When he spoke, his voice was bitter and low, an almost malicious edge to it.
“Do you even comprehend how much I hold back not to kill you? Every moment, it’s as if your very being beckons me to consume it, that’s why I showed up to begin with. To feed. But I decided to stay, unlike everyone else, I’m staying, I’m here!
Anything you lack, anything you miss – I’ll be that. Your brother, your friends, your old stuffed animals, your childhood, yours. I’m yours. Why don’t you und-“He stopped his increasingly fast rant, sighing in tired frustration. “It doesn’t matter. In the end, it’ll be the same as always. You stay. You always stay with me, just like I always stay with you.”
Your breath was caught in your throat. But… Even though you didn’t remember, you remembered the feeling of flying so high and swimming so far, now you were stuck at the bottom of the ocean, unable to lift from the ground as you drowned, and you longed to remember the feeling of not hurting, in the face of that, fear meant nothing.
“You can’t become my brother; you can’t become anything.”
“I can. I do.” He insisted. He kneeled next to you, reaching out to you as if to comfort you, as you flinched, he let his hand fall again, and part of you wished he hadn’t, longing for the warmth. “Hidden wounds don’t need to heal. And someday, I’ll replace even the blood gushing from those very wounds.”
Nothing about his words was a comfort, somehow it felt as if he was comforting himself with them. You wanted to explode in anger, continue an assault, use glass shards or words, but anger was flames and passion and action and – and you were just too tired.
“Do you hate me this much, to torture me like this?”
“Not hate.” At this, he breached the invisible barrier, letting his hand cup your cheek. “Every time you remember a little less, question a little less, and I hide a little less. Bit by bit. One day you’ll look at my true body, hear my true voice, and think nothing of it. All you’ll see is your brother. And you’ll be right, your brother, me, not him. Not some wasted grief. I’ll make you happy.”
“This doesn’t feel like happy.” All you could manage was a broken whisper. “Why?”
He was silent for a moment before speaking,
“I’ve fed on countless people. I exist only in the scope of broken dreams and wasted chances. Regrets is the proof of life, and so I remove those regrets, and with that, their very lives, and humanity slowly corrodes. And I – I cannot even have that. That one, painful semblance of life, and yet I continue to live.”
His voice was an odd mix of gleeful and resentful. You thought, somewhere in the back of your mind, that maybe he was happy to just bare himself at all, another part of you wished he didn’t, as he grew more distant from what you knew with each word, but you didn’t believe this speech really was for you, it was for himself.
“Reasons, what reasons did I have for living or dying. I was devoid of it all yet forced to play part of it all the same, in make-believe fantasies. And even so, it was never for me to comfort or be comforted, never for me to share a meal, never for me to hold a hand, never for me to hear the sound of someone playing the piano for me, never for me to fight and make up with someone, never for me.
In this world I lacked even ones to hate. And yet, all I could do was hate. Stuck in the dirt, all I could do was look up into heaven, cursing every leaf picked by the wind, every bird that could fly, everything that could move where I could not. Love where I could not. I was in hell but forced to act out heaven.
Every time it’d be a new face, a new regret, a new deception. Never me. Always something there isn’t there. But you… You saw, you knew – for a moment, you knew. And yet, you stayed. You didn’t fight, didn’t run. You closed your eyes to it, and clung to my delusions, clung to me.”
“And yet, here you are, pretending to be my brother.” At this, the corners of his lips quirked down, his figure looming as it seemed to grow, crooked and spiny. You thought maybe this was just a little closer to his true form.
“One day, you’ll forget why you clung to me. And then you’ll cling to me all over again. I know it, you are my one thing, my one person, the one thing for me. You infuriate me, you bring me joy, regrets, hopes, all of it – I can obtain it with you, through you, if I just hold on long enough.
Even if my body decays under the weight of hunger, I’ll stay for you without fail.”
”But I want you to leave.” The words sounded fake and hollow, even in your ears.
At this, he laughed. “Leave? And then what, you’ll be left in this empty apartment? Staring at pictures, rewatching old home movies? You don’t really want that.”
“Shut up, you don’t know what I want. You don’t-“ your words were like sand in your throat, forcing it to close until nothing could come out but broken sobs. He took the silence as cue to move closer, wrapping his arms around you – you hated the comfort of this stranger but felt unable to push away its familiarity, clinging desperately unto it.
“I can leave. Simply say the words and you’ll be rid of me.” He said with such ease because he knew you couldn’t do it. In the end, the only thing crueler than this torture was its absence.
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the contrast between how angel is treated in season 3 of btvs vs how spike is treated in season 7 of btvs is unreal. like angel’s souless actions actually have lasting consequences and the characters are allowed to have genuine reactions to them vs how spike is woobified and excused and none of his actions have lasting consequences and robin wood is vilified for wanting revenge on spike.
Ugh, I know! It's ridiculous. Spike gets so many narrative devices used to absolve him: the chip, the soul, the first making him kill people... there's probably more that I'm not remembering.
And sure, some characters voice their opinions against him but like you said, those objections have no lasting impact. Buffy isn't allowed to process any of her trauma from the previous season and instead is put in the place of being HIS protector. She brings him into her house where a bunch of teenage girls are living and everybody is made to swallow any objections they might have and just deal with it.
And some people might say that she "forgave" angel too easily about s2 too but I think the big difference there is that buffy loved angel before he became souless. She felt responsible for him losing his soul and then for killing him. When he comes back into her life, she has conflicting feelings about it, which is understandable for someone in her position but everyone's objections are also valid and they are not forced to just accept angel back in their circle because buffy feels like it. Angel spends most of the season separated from the rest of the scoobies and he's only there when there is a need outside of their control.
Buffy's feelings are finally addressed in Amends. Do I think her trauma could've been better addressed/talked about? Yes. But I don't think s3 as it stands tries to erase what happened.
On the other hand, Buffy didn't have a previous healthy relationship with spike prior to the stuff in s6. The stuff in s6 is all their relationship is by s7, so it makes no narrative sense not to address what happened there.
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Made incorrect quotes for Temporal Transcendence(WIP). Why am I so obsessed with incorrect quotes.
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Wilbur: You love me, right, Tommy?
Tommy: Normally, I'd say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don't like it.
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Tommy: This is such a bad idea.
Wilbur: Then why are you coming along?
Tommy: One of us needs to be able to talk the other Mages out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.
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Techno: Here's some advice.
Dave the Blood God: I didn't ask for any.
Techno(been a statue for a whole century now): Too bad. I'm stuck here with my thoughts and you're the only one who can hear me.
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Young Tommy: You saved me. I owe you my life.
Techno: No thanks. I've seen it and I'm not very impressed.
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Techno: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.
Wilbur: You need to stop.
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Tommy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.
The Time Mages: Wasn't Supreme Time Mage Jacobs with you?
Karl: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.
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Wilbur: HELP! I TOLD TECHNO I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK!
Phil, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?
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Wilbur: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.
Tommy: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?
Wilbur: Yes!
Techno: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.
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Tommy: *Screams*
Sapnap: *Screams louder to establish dominance*
Wilbur: Should we do something?
Karl: No, I want to see who wins.
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Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.
Phil: Shit.
Techno: Wait, three?
Cop: Yeah?
Tommy: OH MY GOD WILBUR FELL OFF!!!
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Quackity, a Time Mage, about Tommy: Apparently we're getting someone new in the group.
Sapnap: Are we stealing them?
Karl: New or used?
Quackity: Wonderful responses, both of you.
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Techno: Bianca, I'm sad.
Bianca Nihachu: *Holds out arms for a hug* It's going to be okay.
Tommy: Bo, I'm sad.
Bo Underscore, nodding: mood.
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Karl: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.
Tommy: You and me!!!
Karl, tearing up: Okay.
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Wilbur: I turned out perfectly fine!
Tommy: Wilbur, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast.
Wilbur: I DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!
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Phil: Hey, you want some leftovers?
Techno: What's that?
Phil: You've never had leftovers???
Techno(grew up poor): No, because I'm not a quitter.
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Tubbo: On a scale from "damn Daniel" to "fre sha vaca do", how are you feeling?
Ranboo: In between "it's an avocado, thanks" and "how did you defeat Captain America", but as a solid answer I would say "I don't need a degree to be a clothing hanger". How about you, Tommy?
Tommy: Probably "road work ahead".
Techno: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.
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(These are for the sequel if I ever get around to it)
Wilbur, pretending to be General Soot of L'Manburg: What's up guys? I'm back.
Nemesis Nihachu: What the- you can't be here. You're dead. I literally saw you die.
Wilbur, sweating: Death is a social construct.
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Tommy: You have to apologize to General Soot.
Wilbur: Fine.
Wilbur: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.
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General Soot: I really like this whole 'good guy, bad guy' thing you guys have going on.
Wilbur: It's not an act, it's just that I'm mean and Tommy isn't.
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Wilbur: I think we're missing something.
Tommy: Teamwork?
Techno: Cohesion?
Nemesis: A general sense of what we're doing?
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Tommy: Have you seen a person named 'Technoblade' around here?
Antarctic Empire Citizen: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.
Tommy: It looks fine to me?
Citizen: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!
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General Soot: How did none of you hear what I just said?
Tommy: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.
Tobias: I got distracted about halfway through.
Nemesis: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.
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Techno: Why is Wilbur so sad?
Tommy: He took one of those "Which L'Manburg-Era Historical Figure Are You?" quizzes.
Techno: And...?
Tommy: He got General Soot.
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Tommy: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor.
General Soot: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.
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General Soot, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.
Tobias: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!
Soot, with the tone of someone who is used to Tobias: Outstanding.
Soot: This is what I’m talking about people.
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Wilbur: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you.
General Soot: 10 times 0 is still 0 though.
Wilbur: Joke's on you, I can't do math.
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Tommy: Just be yourself.
Wilbur: 'Be myself'? Tommy, I have one day to win the L'Manburg soldiers over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me?
Tommy: Couple weeks.
Phil: Six months.
Techno: Jury's still out.
Wilbur: See, Tommy?
Wilbur: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?
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General Soot: I'm an idiot.
Wilbur:
Tommy:
Nemesis:
Techno:
Soot:
Wilbur: If you're waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.
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Nemesis: Whose turn is it to give the pep-talk?
Tommy: *sighing* "General Soot".
Wilbur, trying(and failing) to talk like Soot: Fuck shit up out there, but don't die.
Tobias: *wiping away a tear* So inspirational.
-
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The recent chapter was amazing one v two was so good, ugh and the ending 😂, wondering through, I know you mentioned how complicated their relationship is, but does two feel anything about doing that to one? Or is somewhat numbed to it all? Like it’s necessary ect, if that made sense… love the art and fic so much 🤗
I am so glad you asked. I'm going to take so long to get to the point.
Spoilers for EMD smart lair:
When Two first threatens One with shutting off his EPCVI he's furious and desperate because from where he stands, if he doesn't do something drastic, both their lives are over: "'Nothing I do is without a reason! Nothing!'" / “'They are our last chance to finally fix Alpha 9! Without them we are nothing!'”
Throughout season one, no matter what Two says or does One never listens to him and always sticks to his own agenda. This is a magnification of how in Rise (especially the movie) Leo tends to focus on only doing things his way and not wanting/needing any or much help. On top of that, Somni and I were just talking about how a lot of One and Two's fights are about power plays against each other. We've talked a bit about the complications in their relationship stemming from the power imbalance and lack of respect between them (mostly for Two). So their fights are a bit repetitive since it all comes back to the same problem, manifested and brought to the surface by One's agenda, but the stakes are raised each time until the breaking point in Smart Lair when One acts on his plans.
So making that first threat in SL was a trump card for Two and absolutely a last resort. We joke that Two could get revenge by turning One's heart off whenever he gets even slightly ticked off but really, jokes aside, it's important to keep in mind that deactivating One is the worst case scenario if One is really out of control. Two doesn't really gain anything by shutting One off except for maybe more spotlight for himself (but given his and Draxum's relationship that's a very small opportunity for Two, and we see in Smart Lair that Two gets in trouble for threatening to use the protocol without permission), so the reveal of the off switch and Two's threat that he can use it at any moment shows how desperate Two is in Smart Lair. He's tried everything to get One to stop but he just keeps pushing, so Two has to threaten him with the deactivation. "'I can change my mind if you don’t step. Back. In. Line.'”
That being said, using it once could set a precedent for future crises
anyway.
When they go back with Draxum, Two's already tattled on One for his insubordination because, above almost all else, Two prioritizes the mission since it is quite literally his life's purpose. Like in Bug Busters, he's trying to put One at fault, only now he has a clearer idea of how and why he's failing, and it's undoubtedly One's fault. And this time Draxum sees for himself that One really wasn't planning on helping out at all, which is grounds for deactivation. "'You've become a nuisance.'" If One won't follow orders he's a liability for Draxum, so Draxum orders Two to shut him off. Two complies because A. it's a direct order, and B. it's the logical solution to the problem. It's protocol. As for what he's feeling... probably nothing. Logically, Two knows that One isn't dead, he's off. It's a temporary, controlled state, one that he can monitor himself, so there's no real loss. (One definitely and understandably doesn't see it that way). I think in that moment, if anything, it takes a bit of pressure off Two because the threat has been neutralized. However, both One and Two think that once Draxum takes them off the project they're done for good. So he's also detached because without One, the leader, it's unclear exactly what will happen to Alpha 9. Two knows that Raph and Mikey don't want to be there and have none of the right training. So for him it's a kind of uncertain moment. Two's position is definitely not secure without One and after ratting on his officer and acting pretty extremely, and we see the consequences of that just a second after One's neutralized. But again, to him, the order against One makes sense. They are experiments meant to follow orders. If they fail to do so, they are no longer useful, and thus disposed of. Two was just following orders and standard protocol.
From the audience's perspective though, it's pretty messed up. Two likely won't really realize what he did to One until after he unlearns the mentality that they are more subjects than people, and that he has power over mortality (the "there's nothing I can't fix" mentality is a huge part of how he rationalizes the risks he takes).
Sorry for the long response I just love talking about these two and a lot of what we put into the chapters is very behind the scenes or in between the lines
Glad you liked the chapter! It got pretty intense but we really like to push conflicts and see where it goes :)
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SPOILERS!
Thoughts on the awakening movie
Ok so I have thoughts, not very organized thoughts but thoughts nonetheless
1) why was Marinette’s voice actress when she was singing SO DIFFERENT from her speaking one??? It took me out of the movie every single time.
2) there were too many songs and the fact that none of them were Ce mur qui nous separe is heartbreaking. At the third Marinette song I was rolling my eyes. Plus they all felt pretty same-y and I didn’t think any of the, were particularly good.
3) the scenes felt SO disjointed! Like they had some cool storyboards but weren’t quite sure how to join them together.
4) the whole story felt kinda like that to me, like they couldn’t quite explore all the elements they wanted to include and relies a lot on the fact that we already know (and love) the characters, like if it was my first approach to the universe I’d feel like the movie was rushed and shallow.
5) on a more positive note the animation was incredibly beautiful, a few characters felt a little too baby faced but the lighting and textures really made this very pretty to look at.
6) what was Gabriel’s villain song? It’s like they had an interesting idea but they just couldn’t deliver (which unfortunately rings true for most of the movie)
7) related to Marinette and her many many songs was her character arc, it felt kinda all over the place, like her whole “gotta face my fears” lesson was learned like three different times and not once in a fulfilling way.
8) Alya was kinda mean at the beginning? Did anyone else feel that way?
9) Tikki’s rap was SO CRINGE and the bit in Hawkmoth’s song where he gets a hat and poses un a rap-y way was so weird as well. Like come to think of it they were probably referencing “friends in the other side” but it only makes this song seem way worse by comparison.
10) the movie had serious issues with its rhythm and pacing, with the whole story but also in every scene.
11) kinda related to that but their mouths sometimes would not move with the dialogue? At first I assumed it was because it was made for French first but I could very clearly read their lips in English just not in sync with the sound.
12) the kwamis (genies in this movie apparently, ugh) were characterized in such a weird way, it was like trying to be Tikki but not quite getting there. I did enjoy when she got all wide eyed and musterious, it kinda goes with her being super old and powerful.
13) Plagg??? Being mostly just a fart joke??? 0/10
14) that and Chat feeling so unimportant.
15) Chat also fell in love way to fast, and like it didn’t feel genuine? Like they barely knew each other and Marinette wasn’t like particularly impressive yet for him to be fawning over her.
16) after the little montage tho? I loved their dynamic and relationship, and I really liked their little fight on the roof
17) the movie was sprinkled with little scenes and moments that were enjoyable and well crafted, but even if they were emotional moments they just didn’t feel earned and were kinda buried under a bunch of mid scenes.
18) I did like that Hawkmoth was dealt with in the spam of one movie, 11/10 much more realistic for his abilities than 5 seasons.
19) most of the jokes didn’t land because the timing of them was so weird, like long pauses or they were delivered too fast.
In general there were some bits that I enjoyed and the animation was obviously gorgeous (even if the pacing brought it back a bit) but maybe I had too much hype but I was disappointed. Still I’m certainly inspired to try some fan art and will save stills from the movie cause they were so beautiful.
I probably didn’t make a lot of sense but I needed to get everything out there!
P.S. HOW COULD THEY CUT JUST BEFORE THE KISS?!! UGHHH!!!
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I wanted to rewatch S06E09 before writing this, preferably with subtitles and a better rip, but someone's dragging their feet, so maybe I'll write another post at some point. Some good parts, some I didn’t care about, some that I personally wish they were different (not really bad but I had other thoughts).
So, in this NCIS Hudson and Rex episode:
The first shot seemed like kind of a small ship, it probably wasn’t but the shot made it that way. Sorry, Canada, I’ve been spoiled by all the aircraft carrier shots through the years lol. The one where it turns from day to night, I hated that. It seemed so fake.
The way Charlie’s dad kept criticizing him about everything got on my nerves. I also don’t love the casual sexism of him implying that it’s best if a wife stays home. Definitely shows that Charlie barely had meaningful interactions with this man. And to mention Sarah as Charlie’s “office romance”? Ugh.
This is where I decided that Charlie was raised by Aunt Miranda. It was a good thing that his dad probably missed quite a bit of his childhood.
“Charles” makes me feel like they should be inside the Buckingham palace. And truly, this is the only place I’d ever think they’d feed a dog using a toothpick. Poor Rex had to eat off a toothpick to satisfy that man! I kept hoping that he’d bite him.
Imagine this show having any continuity at all. Charlie would have to explain some of his latest adventures, the poisoning, the jail, etc.
I like that Sarah touches Charlie as soon as he tells her that the killer could be one of his dad’s sailors. She understands what this means for him.
Classic “found the killer the moment they appeared on screen” episode.
Sarah, we have chairs. (Nah, just keep doing that, actually.)
I didn’t know that Canada also had JAG officers. Now I can't help wondering who investigates crimes committed against Navy personnel lol
Here’s where Commander Hudson’s possible motivation doesn’t make that much sense: In most Navy ships, the higher ups barely know their sailors. So, he wouldn’t feel like he needed to protect them. He would most likely feel like he needed to protect the Navy's reputation from possibly harboring a killer. Having said that, I have no knowledge of how big this ship is. And the initial footage was kinda terrible. Understandable, because this isn’t that kind of show, but still terrible.
I love Rex's defensive reaction to the Commander throughout the episode. He can sense how much he unsettles Charlie and makes him change things about himself.
Charlie’s dad implying that Rex has an attitude problem when he is trying to cover up a crime… the nerve…
“...my boys” Oh no he did not. I know how much that can hurt.
The hilarity of the justification of sending troops in the other side of the world, to “keep the peace”… I expect this from military shows, I don’t expect it from shows like Hudson and Rex. And the triumphant music in the background… we get it.
Rex’s barks as Charlie puts the guy in handcuffs could mean nothing other than “suck it, asshole”.
Charlie was a bit… I’m not sure how to put it… Not exactly himself during that interrogation. I imagine he knew his father was watching, but he seemed like he’d jump the guy, or his JAG lawyer, or both.
How did we get from “office romance” to “my son is a lucky man”? Who knows. I mean, Sarah is quite impressive, but this seems like some kind of witchcraft.
Well, at least they didn’t make the bad guy be the Lieutenant in an episode full of men with bad behaviors. Also, I didn’t know they pronounced "Lieutenant" the British way.
Charlie is learning Rex’s language (growl). I find nothing weird with this.
The scene with Joe was nice. But Joe, just put a damn pillow on that couch. You know that none of your subordinates actually sleep in their homes (which is one more reason we’ll never see a bedroom set *sigh*)
John Reardon’s voice drops another half octave when he’s lying down. Good lord. Also, I started praying for his poor neck in that position, at least he didn’t stay there for long. That would have incapacitated me if I stayed like that for even ten minutes.
“I let my issues with my dad…” Which are…? Please, elaborate.
Charlie beckoning Rex when neither of them has slept for a day. Leave the poor dog alone, you sadist. Dogs don’t understand the meaning of overtime.
So, I guess when Hudson men have sorrows, they literally run?
I wanted to keep hating his dad a little more. Why’d they have to reconcile them so fast?
Good episode. I’d have liked if Charlie said a bit more about what bothered him in his father’s behavior, and not regarding the case. It seemed like his father just wasn’t around as much and possibly considered his sailors as his children, maybe even more than his actual children, and Charlie seemed to resent him for that, understandably. But we were also already at the part where the two men were trying to mend fences, and although all the effort seemed to he made by Charlie at the start of the episode, it shifted towards the end to his dad making the effort.
Promo: The dreaded (by me) golf episode. Let me get this straight: The team went golfing and found a body? We can’t take these guys anywhere.
Poor Rex! If that's a serious head injury, I’ll sue. That’s what we have Charlie's head for. But also, please allow Charlie to lose it a little.
Charlie Hudson is having such a bad time in this season, and I’m loving it.
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New piece for my Ocean's Echo fan characters! Masterpost here.
Saelin Cor had long since stopped judging the people around him for the stray, incidental thoughts that flitted past his awareness like minnows. A lot of them were just silly and shallow. Many were unreasonable - petty, unfair, disproportionately angry.
Most people knew it, too. It just wasn’t something anybody could help.
What mattered the deeper patterns of thought that Saelin had to focus on to sense. Actual intention, action and deliberate choices.
Saelin could quite happily judge people on those.
Davi had just had a whole morning full of briefings and seminars. It would have been nice if Saelin could be excused from that kind of thing, since Davi would send him all the information he needed to know and nobody ever asked his opinion. People rarely even acknowledged him where he sat beside Davi (or sometimes slightly behind, which felt just great). But that didn’t seem to be allowed.
Now, as they walked down the corridor into the mess hall, past the streams of military personnel, Saelin took a deep breath and steadied himself against the flash and flutter of hungry, thirsty, I can’t believe he did that, ugh what is taking this bitch so long, wow look at them, longing…
“If you go get the food, I’ll get coffee,” Davi said, turning away.
A quick scan of the crowded mess hall didn’t detect any of the handful of people he knew, so Saelin didn’t have any real cause to object to Davi’s assumption that they’d sit together. Probably with some of the other pilots, none of whom were synced except Davi. Fantastic. Exactly what I need.
Saelin wove his way between the crowds of people, through the billowing clouds of noise that nobody but him ever perceived, towards the food lines.
… did she see me, Lights my back hurts, for fuck’s sake not this guy again…
And it was then, collecting his tray and weaving his way through the crowd, that Saelin realised he had gone all day without once consciously thinking about the sync bond or the looming counterweight of Davi Antrell’s mind on the other end of it.
It was just… there. He had not thought about it.
He wanted to throw the tray in his hands. The urge, the need to do it rose up in his chest and made his hands tremble; he wanted to dump its contents on the ground and fling the whole thing as hard and as far away from him as possible. Maybe it’d break. He wanted to break it against the ground, and scream or cry, and run. To break something, to make noise, to show some kind of external sign of the horror and grief and rejection that pressed against his skin. No. No. No. Can’t.
He’d been here for six months.
And this was normal now.
Saelin took a deep breath, resettled the weight of the tray in his hands, and resumed walking. Probably the mugs and bowls wouldn’t have broken anyway, he told himself distantly. Not the way he wanted them to.
He was aware of the sync bond now. So was Davi; there was no way he wouldn’t have felt that sudden tempest of emotion. Here he was now, sliding alarm, inquiry and concern down the bond.
Saelin pushed back, more firmly than he probably should have. No need. Wait.
When Saelin slid the tray onto the table and dropped into the seat beside him, Davi frowned at him.
“What was that?” he asked, aloud, but under his breath.
“Nothing,” Saelin said.
Irritated concern pulsed across the sync. “Did somebody say something to you?”
The protective edge to the question was annoying. “No.”
“Saelin…” Davi glanced behind Saelin, his eyes scanning across the crowded mess hall. “Don’t pretend you didn’t flip out just now. If somebody did or said something, you need to tell me about it.”
No, I don’t, Saelin wanted to say. In fact, if I were being bullied, telling you so you could pull rank on whoever it is would probably not result in anyone thinking better of me.
The murmuring of thoughts pressed in around Saelin, distracting him from the conversation. Someone two tables back was engaged in a furious argument with the supervisor they’d just left, sitting alone and stabbing a fork at their meal viciously.
The non-synced pilot sitting across from Davi was carefully keeping his face blank and wondering with queasy fascination about the sync bond and what it felt like.
“Agent Thirty-two…”
He needed to give more than this, he realised, Davi didn’t respond well if Saelin gave him nothing.
He sighed, put his hands up to massage his temples as if they hurt. They didn’t, yet. “Nobody said or did anything wrong,” he managed to say. “I just - it’s just one of those days. Nearly dropped something, and I just... Overreacting to minor inconveniences. You know how it is.”
Davi’s face cleared slowly. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, I get it.”
That was an odd thing about this. Saelin had thought, when this began, that the sync bond would let Davi hear his thoughts the way he heard everybody else’s. That it would convey reader powers onto Davi somehow, even if it was just Saelin it worked on.
It didn’t. Unless they were sunk really deep into the sync, one bilobed mind with the ship as its metal body, Davi had no more idea of what Saelin was actually thinking than anybody else did. Emotions came across if Saelin wasn’t careful, intentions sometimes, but conscious thought? No. Saelin could still lie to him.
“You always do get a bit oversensitive at lunch,” Davi said, offhandedly. “Low blood sugar or something?”
And every so often Davi would say something that showed two things simultaneously: that he was actually paying attention to Saelin’s moods and preferences. And that he no more understood what powered those moods than Saelin understood the inner workings of the coffee dispenser.
Saelin fought back another wave of grief and refusal, took a deep breath. He swiped his coffee from Davi’s tray and used it as an excuse not to speak for a moment.
Caffeine made his barriers worse, if anything. But the coffee was the way he took it; Davi remembered without asking now, just as Saelin remembered to snag an extra bread roll and ignore the dessert option when he got Davi’s food.
He kind of wished he had gotten the wrong things on purpose. But that was one of those mean, self-destructive little impulses he already knew decent people pretended they didn’t have.
He should give Davi credit for trying, should extend that little bit of grace that said ‘he didn’t mean that to come out as rude as it did, let it go’.
Saelin didn't want to.
“Or something,” he mumbled. “Sure.”
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I know you don’t write hockey fics anymore and I totally get why!! Buuutttt if you’re willing, I LOVE the scene in To Be Seen As All Right we’re Sid overhears his As giving a speech to the new guy. Seriously, fav scene ever. Would you be willing to do a directors cut of that?
Awww, thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed that scene from To Be Seen Aright, and sure, I'd be happy to do a director's commentary for it. 💛
So the whole point of this scene is for Sid to overhear the guys saying that he's "hardcore" and describing the kind of submissive that he thinks he is. Everything else is just frosting on the cake.
Eavesdropping scenes are tough, because when you write in limited 3d person, like I pretty much always do, the temptation is to do them ALL THE TIME, because they're the only way your POV character is going to find out what other characters say about them when they're "not there." But if you do it too often, it becomes implausible - in real life, most of us rarely overhear other people talking about us. This is... maybe? the only eavesdropping scene in the whole fic (I can't think of any others but it's been a while since I wrote this!), for that reason. But it needs to exist, because the whole fic is about how Sid is perceived by others--it's in the title!--and he needs to know how he is perceived.
Every year, Sid holds his breath at the trade deadline, but this year, the team stays pretty much intact. They’re headed for the playoffs, which means additions rather than subtractions; in Pittsburgh’s case, a new defender from the Panthers.
Like I said, the purpose of the scene is the overhearing... but this also allowed me to cover a question readers might have (how does Sid handle traded players?) and cover an important real-life event in this season.
Sid’s not planning to lecture any new players about how to treat subs; it’s easier on them if they can just pick it up from the rest of the team, and if he does have to drop the hammer, it’s useful for the rest of the team to get a teachable moment out of it. He discovers, though, with Leopold, that the rest of the Pens’ leadership group has its own ideas.
The day after Leopold joins the team, Sid steps out of equipment room to hear his own name, coming from around the corner. He stops and tries to decide whether or not to walk away—in the end, his curiosity overcomes his good manners.
Damn, just noticed the missing "the" in the first sentence of that paragraph.
He hears Tanger speak first. “So, Sid is a sub.”
It’s a little harder for Sid to identify the second voice, but the very fact that it’s new to him tells him it must be Leopold who replies, dry as a bone, “I’ve heard that, yeah.”
“Right.” That’s Duper’s voice, softer than Tanger’s. “But there’s some stuff you should know, related to that.”
“Okay, shoot.” Leopold sounds a little nervous.
Ugh, so, eavesdropping scenes are like telephone conversation scenes - you're stuck describing things with only one sense: hearing. It means you spend a lot of time trying to describe people's tone of voice in a way that's not repetitive. It's a pain.
“First, you don’t give him any shit for it,” Tanger says fiercely. “You don’t call him a brat, you don’t expect him to look down when he talks to you: none of that shit. Or you will be killed. Probably by me.”
Doing a little drive-by worldbuilding here, establishing the kind of stuff that Sid has probably had to put up with on past teams.
Evenly, Leopold says, “Not a problem.”
“Good,” says Tanger. “Okay, second thing is, even if you’re not giving him shit, you don’t treat Sid like a sub. Ever. Not even in a nice way. It’s not that I’ll kill you if you do. It’s that Sid will bite your head off. Or worse, he’ll get all miserable and flinchy, in that way that, if someone made your sub look like that, you’d punch them, but Sid doesn’t have a dom to punch people for making him sad, so you’ll just end up wanting to punch yourself in the face. So don’t do it.”
This is a WALL of dialogue. It's not best practice to do this, imo: in real life, people don't usually make speeches. On the other hand, this is clearly a circumstance where the whole reason Tanger is talking to Leopold is to deliver a speech, so I think it works. But the problem is heightened by the fact that this is an eavesdropping scene: again, Sid can't see the speakers, so there's no opportunity to interrupt the dialogue with descriptions of, e.g., Tanger's facial expression or posture, so yeah. Just a wall of Tanger talking.
I can, however, show Sid's reactions:
That’s… pretty vivid. Probably too vivid not to come from personal experience, Sid thinks, somewhere between amused and appalled. He can’t argue with the “miserable and flinchy” description, although he hadn’t realized his reaction was that obvious.
“I’m not…” Leopold sounds confused. “I should pretend he’s a dom?”
This is the second "Leopold sounds [adjective]." in this scene. Eavesdropping scenes are the worrrrrrrst to write.
“No,” Duper says immediately, “it’s not—you can acknowledge that he’s a sub, you just can’t… get possessive over him, or hold his wrist, stuff like that. Or fight people on the ice for him – he will chew you out right there on the bench, it’s not pretty. And you cannot offer to dom him,” Duper adds, sounding dead serious. “Even if you really want to. And you will really want to, because Sid gets wound pretty tight sometimes, and also he’s a sweetheart. It’s a dangerous combination.”
Another speech, alas. But again: the whole reason Tanger and Duper are talking to Leopold is to deliver a speech to him, so it's okay. As for the content of what Duper is saying - if only they had stopped the conversation right here, I think that would actually have been really good for Sid, because, as I'm about to show, he's pleasantly surprised to hear what doms think of him. He's pretty much always thought that doms want to dom him for shitty reasons: to shut him up, to feel superior to him, or because they think he can't function without it. Here, he learns that they want to dom him because (a) he's sweet and (b) they think they can help with his stress. Not so bad!
A sweetheart? Sid thinks, turning pink. He’s not sure he likes that – but Duper didn’t say it in a condescending or belittling way. His tone was matter-of fact, like obviously Sid is a sweetheart and we know this and you will, too, once you get to know him. He’s still not sure he likes it—couldn’t Duper have said I was a badass? he thinks, crossly—but he supposes that if the team thinks that he’s kind and thoughtful, well… there are worse things.
Sid wishing Duper said he was a badass is so funny to me. I can just picture the little pissy face he'd be making while he thinks it. Awwww.
Leopold says slowly, “I could see that.”
Duper responds, “Right. But Sid does not need a dom – he can handle his shit just fine without one. Okay?”
“Sure. I got it. Is that it?”
And here's where the car crash happens. It was a struggle, actually, figuring out how to get Tanger to say this next thing, even though it's the whole point of this scene - like, how do I get one of Sid's teammates to tell someone else what they think about Sid's supposed sex life? In what context would that be relevant instead of shitty and disrespectful? This is what I finally settled on - that he'd be warning the new guy not to be shitty about Sid subbing for people outside the team. To be frank, I don't think that's totally convincing, and he doesn't actually need to talk about what Sid supposedly does in bed to get that larger point across to Leopold. But I really, really needed Sid to overhear a teammate saying he was hardcore and sounding admiring about him looking beat to hell. Sometimes you just do your best and hope that you can sell something with the strength of your writing even if you actually kind of think it's BS.
“Last thing,” Tanger says. “Sid does not need a dom. But every now and then, he’ll go find one anyway, and he’ll come back looking beat to hell or like he’s gone three rounds with a grizzly bear. That’s just how Sid rolls; he’s pretty hardcore,” Tanger adds in an admiring tone, before his voice goes sharp again. “Don’t be the shithead who takes it personally, talking like Sid should get it from us. It’s none of our business where Sid gets his fun. Got it?”
“Got it, yeah.”
Sid hurriedly takes off in the opposite direction as the conversation breaks up.
It's amazing how, in eavesdropping scenes, the eavesdropper can always tell when the conversation is about to break up, in time to absent themself. 😝 Unless you want the eavesdropper to get caught, but that's a different kind of scene, with a different purpose.
As he drives home, Sid tries to decide how to feel about what he just heard. At first, he thought it was a “this is how we treat subs” talk, of the kind that Sid gives when he has to… but it wasn’t that, not really. Tanger and Duper didn’t say anything about how to treat subs in general. This was specifically a “care and feeding of Sidney Crosby” talk, even though much of the advice—can you call it “advice” when it’s followed up by threats of bodily harm?—would apply to subs or switches on the team in general. But maybe Tanger and Duper think giving the “subs in general” speech is Sid’s area of expertise. Or maybe, he thinks cynically, they just don’t care. God knows there are plenty of doms who are happy to treat most subs like shit, but if someone looks funny at their sub, or their sibling, or their captain…
"Care and feeding of Sidney Crosby" still makes me laugh, as does the bit about whether it counts as advice when it's accompanied by threats.
Anyway, Sid’s not sure he loves the implication that he’s so weird or difficult that his teammates need to be specifically warned about him… but it’s not like Duper or Tanger said anything that wasn’t true. And the stuff that they’d warned Leopold not to do is stuff that would make Sid miserable. If Leopold takes their warnings to heart, Sid will be a happier person.
It also probably works better coming from other doms than it would from him, especially since some of the stuff they’d talked about is stuff that would never have occurred to him. Are there seriously doms on the Penguins roster who are miffed that he’s been hooking up with doms outside the team? How does that even make sense? he asks himself, baffled. And he had no idea, before, that there was something specific about his personality that was making his teammates want to dom him. Apparently, nice but stressed is especially attractive? I do not understand doms at all, he thinks ruefully.
Watch me hang a lampshade on the fact that it doesn't necessarily make sense for his teammates to be upset that he's been hooking up with non-teammates.
Still, it’s nice to know that some of his lessons have finally sunk in, even if it took years of metaphorically beating his teammates over the head with a stick. Sid doesn’t need a dom, Tanger and Duper had said, and He can handle his shit just fine without one. You can’t offer to dom Sid, they’d warned, and also, It’s none of our business where Sid gets his fun.
Sid laughs to himself and says, under his breath, “They can be taught!”
I don't know whether "they can be taught!" is something that normal people actually say as, like... a thing. In my family, we say it with big vaudeville, Barnum-and-Bailey ringleader energy: "They CANNNN be TAUGHT!"
There’s another part of the conversation, though, that gives him a little thrill in the center of his chest when he thinks about it. Sid’s pretty hardcore, Tanger had said, and he’d sounded… approving. Maybe even impressed. Interrupting here to note: Sid rehashing this memory allows me to actually build it up more than I could get away with in the moment: it would have been weird for me to pile on all these adjectives while Sid was overhearing Tanger (like, how many adjectives in a row can you use for someone's tone of voice?), but I've now gotten "admiring," "approving," and "impressed." The reader will notice this. They have to, or the whole point of the scene will fail to land. It had felt really good… but more importantly, it had confirmed that Sid was right about what kind of submission makes a good sub, a sub that doms will respect. And it confirmed that, as far as his teammates are concerned, Sid is living up to that standard – that he’s proved himself.
That is sooo sad. Sid! No! But this is how it works: sometimes it's praise that hurts us more than criticism, by laying out the standard for what others think is "good," which we then hurt ourselves trying to meet. Think of all the people who say, "Have you lost weight? You look great!" Ouch.
All I have to do is not fuck it up, he concludes, ignoring a queasy little turn in the pit of his stomach at the thought. All I have to do is make sure that, if I scene with a dom again, they leave a lot of nasty-looking marks. Easy.
And if Sid doesn’t always like the process of getting those marks—if he still flinches sometimes at the sound of a belt buckle—that doesn’t matter. This is what’s expected of him. And Sid is all about exceeding expectations.
Double ouch.
That's the end - hope you enjoyed!
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Hey Jwb, how are you doing? Recently I was watching lavanya desi track and felt that Raizada's were making khushi over work unapologetically when there were whole lot of servants around they make her do all the household chores that's ain't part of the deal which is quiet unfair ,Also when lavanya was leaving rm khushi was the one carrying La's trolly as there are none to helpout.I'm not judging her helpfulness but what exactly does the writers want to portray khushi as?That she's gonna make it as bahu Or something?I also want to know when khushi was thrown out from rm by Arnav in brutal way Why did Anjali never told him about how ruthlessly she brought the 15 days contract thing to bring khushi to rm? But made the entire thing about brother sister bonding the next day?
Hi Anon,
Khushi was paid to teach 'traditional' Lucknowi etiquettes to Lavanya and to be honest a lot of traditionalism is rooted to patriarchy. Serving tea for the family, always ready to be of service for the husband's family, take everyone's permission to be doing something, etc.
And the irony is Arnav despises it, he believes he is perfectly capable of helping himself in a meal (he doesn't object if Anjali is serving food to him or feeding him out of love), he believes he's responsible for his clothing as any person should and he doesn't want anyone to stay hungry for him (as it's rooted in patriarchy to not eat unless the husband eats) and he definitely hates it when Lavanya takes his 'permission' to go to a party - Arnav is a liberal, all of these traditional etiquettes that Khushi is supposed to be teaching Lavanya is nothing but misogyny, deep rooted patriarchy and nothing of common sense.
(He probably watched his mother slave away for an ungrateful husband as well).
Now coming to Khushi taking Lavanya's luggage - this is a different dynamic. Ironically the closest person to Lavanaya in the household is Khushi and Khushi is Lavanya's only family in the house. She takes Lavanya's luggage as a right of a best-friend and almost sister (that's why she packs Payal's bags later in the show during Payal's marriage). There's something very wholesome and genuine in this.
Oh ugh, I hated that scene as well. Anjali manipulated Khushi! But Khushi was upset, after being thoroughly insulted by Arnav, that how dare Arnav insult his own sister?
It's one of the things that didn't just sit right with me. It could've been an easy fix - that Anjali could've been ashamed and decided to give Khushi a job elsewhere because this is indeed very shameful, but Khushi decides to take the job because she has no other option out of financial instability.
Khushi should've remained bitter with Anjali until Anjali would literally be a wall in front of Khushi to Arnav.
If Anjali slapped Arnav for calling Khushi a 'gold digger' and telling him that she brought Khushi to the house, she misused Khushi's financial condition as a desperate means to see some hope in this family but she is wrong because regardless Arnav has proved that she has failed as a person and is a stark reminder that their mother doesn't exist at all.
And if Arnav retaliated that yes, their mother doesn't exist so Anjali should stop trying to be one because she's forgetting she lives in Arnav's house- oof.
Now that would immediately earn Anjali's reputation in Khushi's eyes and understanding to Khushi just how broken this family unit is and the extent Anjali would go to bandaid this family together.
And it would explain why the next day would be of Arnav apologizing to his sister because he crossed all boundaries with his sister because she defended Khushi.
Best,
JWB
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Rabbids Bio: Bunny Nr.#1 Sergeuï
Hello guys, here I give you bio's interesting Rabbids from, well the Rabbids series as they are to me one of my favorite species in all fiction and shaped my love for bunnies!!!! Today's Bio is none other than Sergeuï, the bad guy from the first Rabbids game; "Rayman Raving Rabbids" and thus a natural fit for our Nr.#1 Bunny in that series. Without any further do, let's finish this:
"Sergueï is a softy. Out of pure coquetry [flirtatious behavior], he wears a delightful, finely worked metal muzzle. His joie de vivre and [Joy for life in French] his strong sense of repartee [quick, witty conversations, kinda like Edge's language] make him a very pleasant companion. He's always ready to keep things light and lively with little tricks, such as grinding phalanxes, switching your clavicles or even playing "this little piggy" with your toes."
-Manual, Rayman Raving Rabbids
Sergeuï , a.k.a. Grandus Lapinus (french for Big Rabbid), a.k.a. "The Butcher" is as you can see in the wanted post was a very powerful Rabbid and an elite warrior of the Rabbid forces and pretty serious. He has very large arms and uses his big hands to best his foes with ease. He is big and Scary and strong, and should not be taken lightly at all, as he is after all the one, who alongside 3 Rabbids in the intro of Rayman Raving Rabbids successfully captured Rayman and 3 Baby Globoxes during their Picknick, taken them to the Coliseum.
Yep, you heard it right, Rayman, an icon of gaming who bested the likes of Mr.Dark, Admiral Razorbeard and Reflux empowered by the Leptys sceptre, was defeated by Sergeuï, a member of the elite force of the first Rabbid Invasion, this tells you how powerful and cunning he really is!!! Of course Rayman was surprised and caught off guard without his power ups, but the fact that Rayman offered their very little resistance shows that he is capable of dealing blows and pull out tricks that our Hero could not counter... It was undeniably a good idea that Cursa never got this guy's genes, then we would have even worse Spark Hunters to deal with...ugh, the idea makes me shiver to the bones already! Imagine If Bedrock had been made by using Granite and this guys's DNA? We would have probably never won, unless if in that alternative reality, Edge would have gotten Sergeuï's DNA...yeah...terrifying...big and scary...
Anyway he throws Rayman into the Coliseum's arena and Rayman has to perform certain mini tasks to get his reward: Save a Baby Globox and a Plunger as trophy. After completing the first series of minigames Sergeuï sends Rayman to his rather bleak cell via grabbing him with one hand and throwing him in there. If Rayman wants to leave, he would have to play again a series of Mini games and to do that, he would ask Sergeuï to bring him there, who is watching via the door viewer and guarding his cell. Sergeuï would grab Rayman forcefully and take him to the Coliseum for more games. This would mark their first interactions in the game and would continue up until the 7th time. There Sergeuï awaits our Boy without Limbs and greets him. When Rayman tells him to stay, he stands firm and waits for his next round in the Arena. If Rayman then would call Sergeuï, he would surprise Rayman hiding on the left side of the door and wait for Rayman to go first and escort him to the Arena. After Rayman begins to win over time the hearts of the Rabbids over and becoming even more popular, Sergeuï starts to lay down a red carpet for Rayman to enter the cell all the while assembling a chore for Rayman that sings for him and holds many gifts for their hero, the chore btw has them use plumbers as trombones. Sergeuï also is not left out of the fun and dances with a batuta he waves to celebrate Rayman, the new hero of the Rabbids.
He would also over the course of the game play in some of the mini-games like "Bunnies are bad at Peek at boo", where he would play with us Peek at boo within the corridor leading to the arena, with it's entrance being guarded by none other than Sergeuï . We must run with our toes to the door, all the while Sergeuï would turn around and if we move while we are forced to stand still, he would eliminate us...if we are cunning and succeed we will go to the gate, but Sergeuï will try to catch us, only to fail.
Another Mini game called Bunnies have no memory part 2 has us click on Rabbids to repeat the order by which the sounds are given to us to gain points. Sergeuï as you can see appears on the right and clicking on him emits a purple light.
The last mimi game on the list where Sergeuï participates in is the game called Bunnies have natural rhythm part 2, whereby you start playing music in order to punch the Rabbids entranced by the music they are suceptile to: Green Rabbids love the music from the Green Boombok, Blue ones from the Blue Boombox and so forth with Red and Yellow. You have for this challenge 3 hearts and if you get hit by the Rabbids 3 times, game over for you. Sergeuï would in this part stop the music from playing by smashing on it with his big hands, if it's played for too long and if you get even slightly too close to him or he rans over you, you lose a heart. You cannot touch him, he is more untouchable than Reflux, who is btw a Knaaren, a race of Ogre-like people invulnerable to almost anything btw...Sergeuï is a boss! He even composed a song called "The Butcher Deejay" which would put the skills of DJ Cheep Tuna to shame and that track can be heard in the 2 parts of the dance mini game "Bunnies are raving mad" and in the Jukebox within Rayman's cell, if you like to hear it without the mini-game aspect like here:
Overall Sergeuï once hostile to Rayman, became over time a friendly person to Rayman and treats him like an honorary celebrity rather than a prisoner, suggesting a change of attitude the Rabbids have towards Rayman. From kidnapping him, into making him one of their stars through completing games for them, which shows that appearances are deceiving and that these volatile Bunnies are fun-loving and even generous to a point back before they parted ways with Rayman.
This change in behavior and overall development of the Rabbids is based on the concept of Rayman 4, the original Rayman Raving Rabbids, where Rayman would have to impress the Rabbids in the Coliseum in order to liberate his people and win the bunnies over by becoming more popular than their leadership. This idea was here used as well, and it seems that Sergeuï was intended to be also one of many of these Large Rabbids, but they were scrapped and only he remained. What also is weird is that the manual described him as a softie with a lot of repartee and joie de vivre, basically being great with words and having a lot of joy, which he sort of shows over time in the final product, but is not really a typical softy. Still he is despite his initial hostility towards Rayman a good guardian and begins to care for Rayman and treating his captor with a lot of respect, something that would later be lost in the next game with the other bunnies. Below is seeing how that concept flourished at the final parts of the game.
Their special bond will not last forever as Rayman, having acquired a lot of these Plungers after completing more than 10 mini-games for them, uses these well-earned trophies as letters for him to climb up to a far away window where Rayman will escape from the bunnies. He manages to do that, only to realize that he left his friends children, the baby Globoxes in the coliseum and wants to venture back via a hole the Rabbids made near the picnic place, only to get stuck and would remain there like a trapped prey for the rest of the ending, until Rayman Raving Rabbids 2 comes and Sergeuï is nowhere to be seen!!!
Around the same time of RRR's release on the Wii, we got the DS version of "Rayman Raving Rabbids" as well, which is more like a traditional platformer rather than a large collection of solo mini games. is our softy Sergeuï the final boss hovering on an UFO with inflated size while Rayman would use some Rabbid tech to beat him. Sergeuï summons Rabbid allies in many vehicles to help him against Rayman and engage in an energy ball battle a la Ocarina of Time...it's difficult but not impossible and Rayman defeats him and pacifies the Rabbids...this is a weird game in the series and I think beyond being a fun trivia...I think the game would have little bearing on the series...it was very obscure after all.
Afterward we only see Sergeuï in the American cover for RRR2 near on the Edge of the Eiffel Tower right below as you can see, reminiscent of King Kong:
This is the last we have seen of Sergeuï ever since. Either he took some break after his work on the Coliseum or was fired after Rayman was freed, who knows? But some of us some of us Rabbid Fans, including me, hope he will appear in one way or another in the Rayman DLC for Mario + Rabbids Sparks of Hope. He may be a boss or simply be reffrenced or like in the DS game, becomes the final boss of that game as he was the first Rabbid that attacked Rayman and his friends as well as being unique and cool enough to be in there, after all, he would have made a fine Spark Hunter!
As @bramble-scramble said in an answer regarding her views on Sergeuï, his sense of Repartee could be shown here due to us having now translated Rabbidese and would be a lot like Edge, with few, but hard-hitting words. His weapon of choice would be maybe diffrent but rigth now, it would be too exhausting in this bio to further speculate, but we can hope for more Sergeuï, we can hope!
That is it and I will discuss more about him in the future, especially for my Edge fanfic in-planning and how he and Edge would make great friends and why Cursa never bothered to use this guys's DNA...he is so powerful and cute and smart and sexy and BWAMAZING!!
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I'm probably asking for so many bitties, but they're so cute that I can't help it!
Sooo... May I also ask for Passive?
Oh but of course! I’m really happy you like the Bitties ^^
You've always wanted to get a Bitty, ever since they came out, but you've never had enough money for them. They're quite a bit, quite pricy... the price is okay though, of course! You understand why it was that much money. That didn't mean that you were happy about it, though.
So, after a few weeks of saving up, you knew which Bitty that you wanted to get! Just a normal Sans Bitty. You've heard that they're kinda lazy and love to tell puns, and they aren't too much work. Best for beginners and you figured hey, why not? You wouldn't go for one of the harder ones like... Nightmare or any of the Bad Sanses, even though Axe seemed like such a cutie.
While you were walking to the Bitty shop though, you heard shouting and laughing, making you look over. There seemed to be a few teens... they were throwing rocks at something that you couldn't quite see. What in the world were they doing? You should just keep walking...
Of course you didn't.
You head over to see what the teens were throwing rocks at, and saw a little Bitty that was pressed up against the wall, holding his hands over his head, flinching each time a rock was thrown. None of them seemed to hit him, luckily, but it was still bad!
"Hey!" you snap, causing the teens to jolt, "What the hell are you guys doing?" you push by them, and pick up the Bitty who whimpers when he was touched, "What the hell is wrong with you two?"
The teens tried to explain that they were just playing with their Bitty, but you shake your head "Get out of here before I call the cops on you idiots" they tried to object so you reached for your phone, and that caused the two to run away.
You huff softly, muttering under your breath "Assholes..." You look down at the little Bitty in your hand, who slowly moves his arms away, looking up at you with big eye sockets. He was so cute! Bright purple eyeshines, and he was so small in your hands... "Are you okay?" you ask, your voice soft.
He gave a small nod, still shaking a little. You could hear his bones hitting against each other slightly. You knew that that meant he was scared, or trying to be threatening. Most likely the first, though.
"I... think so" he mumbles.
You nod, and gently pet the top of his head with your thumb, seeing him flinch then slowly lean into it. He really was cute... "I was going to the Bitty Shop to buy one, maybe I can keep you instead. If you want?" you offer, tilting your head to the side, smiling. He seemed to think about it, then nods and nuzzles into your hand mumbling okay.
You giggle softly, and turn starting to walk towards your house again. You would have to figure out what type of Bitty this is, and look up about him. What if he's a new type?! Oh... no... that doesn't make sense. Why would teens have him if he was new? Ugh, the thought of those guys made you so mad.
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Jaythony Simmersound Interview
Thank you so much to @cheesesteakphil for the amazing interview sketch! It really helped me figure out the final holes in this, on top of just looking amazing! Phil still has 2 comm slots open as of the time I'm writing this, so please consider supporting her!
Interview below cutoff! I've been excited to get some of this written down for the longest time! A little more purply and indulgent than these things are supposed to be I think, but it was fun 💖
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("Hello?")
The Grumpus gives no acknowledgment, relaxing in the field in front of Cromdo's hut with his eyes lazily shut. Headphones are wrapped over his head as vague, abrasive sound leaks from its earmuffs.
("*AHEM* Um, excuse me?")
Again, no response. None of the sights and sounds of Snaxburg are able to permeate his senses.
(The journalist gives a slight tap of the foot to the grumpus' side )
"Ugh, come on, Cromdo. You and I both know it hasn't been fifteen minutes y-" The grumpus pauses as his eyes focus on the journalist towering above him. Realizing his mistake, his perturbed frown turns to a lackadaisical smile. "Oh hey! The journalist from the gorge, right?"
("The very same. Did you have time for an interview?")
"Well, this is like the only time old Mr. Face gives me to myself all day…but you did us a pretty big solid when we were melting back there. It's only right to return the favor."
("Who are you?")
"Call me Jaythony. Simmersound! Grump State alum, math and finance whiz…professional number cruncher is probably the best way to put it! Well, all that's what I put on the resume, at least. I'm really just some guy who likes the sun and some tunes. You see that Wiggle Wigglebottom's here? Crazy, right?? A lot of deep cuts on that album of hers…"
("...Why come to Snaktooth Island?")
"Well…it's where my job took me. Not much more to it than that, really."
("A Grump State degree and financial skills got you…a job at Cromdo-Mart?")
An anxious wince breaks through Jaythony's casual demeanor. "Weird job market, right? That's one thing they don't really prepare you for in the lecture hall, heh…"
("Isn't Cromdo-Mart a bit of a shady venture for a fresh graduate?")
Jaythony's gaze turns to the ground in defeat. "I…guess I'm not giving you the full story. Cromdo-Mart was a…spur-of-the-moment choice I took. My career, my whole life in New Grump City, wasn't really going the way I planned. I needed an out.
("Fired?")
"No, I quit. I was fresh meat at one of the top banks in the city. I had the skills and the background to make my way up the totem pole. But I…"
("You what?")
Jaythony shrugs. "I hated it. I made it, did everything I was told to do growing up, got all the good marks and the recommendations, got the dream job…and I grumping hated it. It shatters a dude, y'know? Not realizing the miserable kind of life you were preparing yourself for. After a month of trudging through it, I couldn't handle it. I rushed out of my cube and out the door. Didn't look back - no two-weeks-notice or anything.
("And Plan B was Snaktooth?")
"I guess that's where fate came in. I ran out the skyscraper, desparate to escape to…anywhere, really…but I didn't get too far. This gruff, shady, and pretty grumping old fellow stopped me right outside the revolving doors. He gave a clearly rehearsed pitch about some groundbreaking business opportunity in an exotic land, in the world of - and I quote - "superfood". Any other day, I wouldn't have wasted a second of my time on the crazy old man…but the very sight of New Grump City was making my stomach churn. I packed up my clothes, the tin cans on my head, and a good bit of my record collection, and we headed out in two days' time."
("What exactly IS your job at Cromdo-Mart?")
"Mr. Face titles me the 'C.F.O. of Cromdo-Mart'. In reality, I'm sitting at a beat-up wagon and taking inventory on the same 4 pieces of junk lying around like it's my summer Grump-Mart job from when I was fifteen."
("And the pay?")
"Let me put it to you this way: you know those multivitamin gummies they make for kids? Shaped like little grumpuses? 2 bottles of those make up the 'Cromdo-Mart competitive healthcare plan'. I asked about a 401k and he told me there was 'no way he was running that far'. Probably should've read the fine print, or lack thereof…"
("Thoughts on Bugsnax?")
"I'll give the old man one thing: he really wasn't kidding about the 'superfood'. Pretty amazing, aren't they? I had a bit of a scare trying out my first razzby - ran to Eggabell like a lost child when my nose turned all fruity. She didn't really like me wasting her time like that; faded away after a few days anyhow."
("Why did you leave town?")
"Wasn't my choice, really. Place was falling apart at the seams, and I don't think anyone was really keen on parading around with the Cromdo-Mart lacky, especially after Beffica called out Mr. Face on his…you know…theft."
("Can you blame them?")
"Buddy, please, can you trust me on one thing? I'm no conman. I'm just…trying to find some new reason out here. I haven't done any of the shady stuff Cromdo gets up to." He sighs. "But I did follow him to the gorge. Might as well stay on the payroll." He pauses, then continues with a chuckle. "Heh, it's funny: The guy probably thought he was getting some big-shot financier to launder his money and dodge his taxes for him. Instead, he got some aimless, unemployed twenty-something. Weird twist of fate, huh?" (He attempts to prolong his smile, but is clearly unamused by his own joke)
("Any info on Lizbert?")
"I tried to stay out of Lizbert's way for the most part. We both knew I was out of my element on this trip. She didn't say it - didn't even really imply it - but I think we both knew I wasn't meant to be here. I was more familiar with Eggabell, but even then, can't say I have much info..." (He pauses, fidgeting the headphones back and forth on his neck) "Though Eggabell said something weird when she was checking out my snakked-up nose. The way she described these Bugsnax…seemed almost l-"
(Cromdo's voice echoes out from his hut, "DING-DING kid! Recess is over. And get those dumb things off your neck for once! Scarin' away customers when you look like a grumpin' space station!")
Jaythony winces at Cromdo's gravelly orders, but returns a smile to the journalist. "Meet up with me around the campfire when my shift ends. We can keep this going then."
("Fair enough. Thanks for your time.")
Jaythony reaches up to his headphones, but stops before he can comply with Cromdo's order. "Eh...Not THAT desperate for the gig." He lowers his hands and returns to behind the dilapidated market wagon, his blasé expression contrasting hard with the carefree guise he had before the journalist cut his escapist travels short.
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While exploring the Sky Islands, the Rito pair think about their time together in Rito village, the stresses of adulthood, and their bond with each other as they search for a mysterious temple. That unspoken tension comes to its breaking point when they find something else beyond a landmark and things grow out of control… literally.
Even up so high in the sky archipelagos, Teba could still feel the arid air from the Gerudo region brushing up past his face. Maybe Rito weren’t fit for exploring outside of Tabantha, but he was stubborn before being defeatist. With Tulin and his best men guarding the village, no Yiga clansman could ever hope of breaking in. It wasn’t hard—it was tedious and boring.
He had to turn around every few minutes to check if Kass was still following behind him. Good thing he did, because the bard had gotten enraptured by the sight of yet another Zonai Device. Even with his hulking frame, he was clearly lacking in any kind of warrior sense. Teba was almost tempted to shoot near his feet to startle him for his carelessness, but he simply bit his tongue and stopped in his tracks. “Kass, can you please hurry up?”
“I’m sorry, but Amali and the kids said they were curious about those devices that fell everywhere. It won’t take more than a second!” Purah Pad in hand—a mass-produced model under Zelda’s approval—Kass snapped a photo of the giant fan. “Truly interesting things, aren’t they? To think that the wind Rito use can be made by simple centrifugal force…”
“Interesting indeed…” Teba sarcastically muttered. “Now hurry up. We have to make sure that we document our findings.”
After a well-deserved rest, Zelda didn’t waste any time. Now the sage of time, she was more determined than ever to chronicle the history of every nook and cranny of Hyrule. She wanted nothing more than to do the exploring on her own, but with reparations for the entire kingdom on her plate, she had to settle for sending out ambassadors and research teams to seek out all shrines, temples, and relics Hyrule could offer.
“Oh, no need to be so methodical about the entire affair, my friend. We’re uncovering ancient art here!” Kass cheered, accordion in hand as his fingers ached to play the instrument. “I know that you’re the elder, but have you lost all whimsy in your life?”
“We’re uncovering it because it needs to be uncovered. The Zonai, the Shiekah, and whoever else lived in Hyrule before us were a bunch of cryptic pranksters. I mean,”—Teba reached for his bow and shot at the Zonai Sentry in the distance before it could activate, making it crumble into pieces just as it started up.—”my ancestors just wrote down information like rational people. None of this riddle nonsense.”
Kass stared at the sentry explode into pieces—aquamarine shards flying through the air with green smoke protruding from the spot the robot perished. “My, you need to work on your anger problems.”
“I don’t have anger problems.” Teba shot another one, sending it careening down to the surface of Hyrule. “I’m just blunt.”
“The ones that have the most problems are the ones that deny it the most. That’s a proverb from—”
“Your teacher, yeah,” Teba grumbled. “I just wanna get done with this so I can return home and be with Saki. She’s probably worried sick…”
“Oh, you know Saki’s a strong woman. She’s probably over the moon that you’re taking some time off from being the elder. If your plumage wasn’t white, I would’ve already assumed that you’ve begun graying!”
Teba started to walk faster in an attempt to avoid a confrontation. Kass’ laugh was usually infectious, but during work, the sound of careless joviality was like hearing nails scrape against a chalkboard.
Why did it have to be him? He’s so… Ugh…
Kass was a carefree man—perhaps too carefree. Most of the men in the village called him insane for leaving out of the blue on a music-seeking trip—Teba included. Amali was the only one that seemed to support his decision, but sometimes, even she wished for him to come back and help take care of the kids.
However, what he lacked in focus and responsibility he made up with sheer knowledge. The man was a walking encyclopedia of Hyrule’s history when it came to the arts. After The Calamity was dealt with, he had risen from a nameless bard to the head of Hyrule’s art and culture program. Zonai—Shiekah—Gerudo; he could decipher it all and do so twice as fast as Zelda’s head researchers.
Teba would love it if the story ended there, but someone that loved to explore as much as Kass was obviously going to wander into wild territory with the excitement of a dimwitted hatchling, and it frustrated Teba to no end. It wasn’t that he was stupid—he could forgive that at least—but Kass knew the risks, and simply valued the concept of adventuring far more than his own life.
Turning his head back again—half out of habit and half out of genuine concern—he saw Kass leaning down every few steps to stuff some sundellions into his backpack.
Ignore him. As long as he arrives safely, you won’t need to worry about anything else.
///
A lack of sleep was something that Teba was accustomed to. Even before being chief, he would always sleep with an eye open. Every part of him was attuned to be on the lookout for something as small as the rustling of leaves. Being on the lookout for moblins or aeurocudas was just part of the job, especially when his neighbor was one of the few Rito men that never sought the way of a warrior.
“Ah, what a refreshing bath!” Kass hopped out of the pond, feathers ruffled up as he dried himself.
Teba swallowed harshly, still refusing to turn around and engage with Kass. When they first traveled to this island, he choked when Kass started to undress around the body of water. Why did he even react so strongly? He had gone on long monster-hunting excursions with Harth many times—bathing in nearby waterfalls to get the bokoblin blood off them. He wasn’t an overly hormonal teen Rito, so why?
“Are you sure that you don’t want to dip in? The water up in here is so soothing…”
“No. Too cold for me.”
“Too cold for a Rito?” Kass asked teasingly. “Color me surprised.”
The sound of the belts and buckles of Kass’ kilt was the sign that Teba could finally turn around and watch. Still, he felt a lump in his throat as he saw Kass without his leather armor—his feathered, naked chest visible and shamelessly displayed.
Even now, he had trouble understanding someone as combat-aversed as the bard could manage to have such a strong build. He certainly wouldn’t be able to match him in flight, Kass’ muscly frame could probably break him in half. His arms were stocky and thick, sporting definition around his body that helped him haul most of their travel equipment without trouble.
Teba even remembered hearing about Amali needing to call a tailor to get Kass’ measurements taken since the standard armor for all the Rito no longer fit his burly physique. It was as hilarious as it was jealousy-inducing. He could picture himself during that day—staring off at Kass’ home as he twirled around shirtless as Amali and the tailor stretched the measuring tape around him.
What is up with me?
“And whatever has you so grumpy? We’re just an island away from arriving at the destination the stone tablet spoke of.”
“Hm?”
Kass jumped off the rock formation near Teba and slid right next to him with a travel mat of his own. “Wanna know something funny, friend?”
With an exasperated sigh, Teba looked at Kass. “What?”
“You remind me of my teacher. He was very grumpy like you, but kind and handsome as well.”
Kass’ beak curved as Teba felt his cheeks turn red. The bard’s honeyed words lingered in his mind—spoken so kindly that it was as if they were being serenaded to him. Teba’s chest tightened, but he didn’t clench it out of fear of Kass noticing his sudden reaction.
What… What are you DOING to me?!
“You don’t need to act so stern. He had to step down from his station due to stress.” Kass solemnly glanced at his accordion for just a moment. It was short—less than a second—but his beak trembled as he recalled the memory. “And well, it’d be a shame if you were to end up like Kaneli so soon. I quite enjoy seeing you fly.”
“You can see me? All the way to the flight range?”
“Someone who travels so much has an eye for detail,” Kass explained. “I sometimes station myself on Revali’s Landing, and I can see you from there.”
“Ugh, how embarrassing…”
“Oh, your flight prowess is nothing to be ashamed of.” Kass seemed to return to his normal, composed self, but as soon as it went away, another wry smile painted itself across his beak. “And by the way, you should either tie your kilt better or invest in some undergarments. Just because you’re all alone in that range doesn’t mean that you’re exempt from decency.”
“I—“
Teba fell into silence. His heart pounded with the ferocity of a hammer smashing against his ribcage. He opened his beak, but no words came out. The only sound was the roaring winds of the sky islands and the crickets chirping around them. Their gazes met, and the pounding grew stronger and stronger. Teba felt like his heart was going to explode into a gory mess from how intense the beating was. It echoed through his ears, drowning out his own thoughts.
That was until Kass broke the silence. He let out a boarish cackle—acute and gravelly, it was the total opposite of his soothing voice.
“W-what’s so funny!?”
“Your face!” Kass said amidst laughter and gasps for air. “Oh, that was priceless! You’re a sucker for praise, it seems!”
“N-No!” Teba puffed up his cheeks—defenseless against Kass’ teasing that he could only approach it like a child. “Shut up! How was I supposed to know that there’d be someone looking up my kilt!”
“Don’t blame me for having eyes!” Kass defensively said. “Plus, you should thank me for telling you. A less than kind person would’ve told on you to the entire village.”
“I…” Teba squirmed under the weight of his own shame. “Yeah, whatever. Going to sleep now.”
“Sleep well, dear chief~” Kass gazed at him deeply—amber eyes glistening against the moonlight.
Teba turned around, and while he certainly closed his eyes, slumber didn’t reach him no matter how much he tried. The concept of Kass gazing up at him in voyeuristic glory made his stomach churn with something not too dissimilar to discomfort. It made him nervous, yet at the same time, that same feeling he got whenever he flew up high up. The only time that he ever felt something so potent was when he soared to the skies above Rito Village to face Vah Medoh.
…How can a simple minstrel do something like that? My chest…
The sound of Kass’ deep snoring broke Teba out of his train of thought. The Rito was sprawled over his travel carpet, drool trailing out of his beak and his accordion resting near him just like how a plush would be held by a hatchling.
“Sleep well, Kass.”
///
“This is it, Teba! This is the spot, I’m sure of it!”
“Huh?”
They had finally arrived on the island detailed on the stone tablet. Atop an island in the Faron Sky Archipelago was an islet distinct from the other land masses coated in yellow leaves, random rock formations, and dilapidated Zonai architecture with nothing inside. The one they found themselves in was a large expanse with a temple just like the ones found in the corners of Hyrule, just a little bit smaller in size. The entrance was in the shape of a giant skull, and in front of it, a stone tablet with a message inscribed upon it.
And yet, with such a striking discovery in front of him, Teba couldn’t help but stare off into the distance. He couldn’t bear to look at Kass anymore; not out of annoyance like earlier, but from the strange stew of feelings simmering inside of him.
“Are you not excited? We’ve been traveling for days to get here!”
“I-I am, I am. It’s just…” Teba swallowed. “Just a lot on my mind. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”
Kass sighed, clearly resigned. “Will do, friend.”
Teba exhaled in relief as he heard the distinct sound of Kass’ accordion startup. The click of the keys and the tone they let out thereafter was like a wave of comfort washing over the Rito chief. How long had he gone without hearing that melody? Kass left just around the time Link woke up, and couldn’t come back to the village during the upheaval… the melody was so much more soothing than how Teba remembered it.
“Humble spirits of the Zonai!” Kass announced with showman-esque candor. “Allow us to access the secrets of this stone tower island at once, please!” He coughed up into his wing before beginning his song.
A hero of draconic heritage, rising up into the skyTo fight a beast that haunts us but what for we do not know whyTake power at the cost of yourself, then let thee fly
The chime of something unlocking traveled through the entire island. Teba brandished his bow just in case a sentry or something even worse was summoned—three arrows are already drawn in his Great Eagle Bow.
“What happened, Kass?!”
“I-I don’t know! A shrine usually appears, but the rumbling isn’t coming from underneath!” Instead, it was coming from deep inside the temple. Something was slowly crawling its way up to the entrance—they could both feel it. “Teba, are you—”
Teba flew at Kass’ side, almost throwing the bard with his rough landing. “Already there.”
They waited with bated breath as the stone door slowly retracted up. Dust and debris fell as the mechanism jutted the entrance skyward, and just when they braced themselves for something akin to a Silver Lynel covered in Gloom, they saw that what was causing the rumbling was… a Zonai construct gently hovering towards them with something lodged inside its ribcage-esque body.
“Thank the Godesss…” Teba let himself fall to the ground in relief—back against the altar next to the tablet. “I did not have the energy to fight yet another thing tainted with Gloom.”
“I thank you both for freeing me. It appears that I shut down while inside the Stone Tower temple and got trapped inside.” The construct explained. “I possess the reward for unraveling the secret of the temple. The answers were supposed to be hidden inside, but I can detect that the tablet containing the secret fell to the surface. Its current geographical coordinates are -0182, 1171, 0279. I concur that you ended up finding the answer that way.”
“Y-yes! I suppose that you could be so kind as to grant us that reward! I’d also appreciate it if you could give us some explanation as to what that song is supposed to mean.” Now in his element, the bard spoke with certainty and authority. “My name is Kass, and my associate is Teba.”
“Hello.” That was all Teba said as he stretched to offset the sudden exertion.
“Users ‘Kass’ and ‘Teba’ registered.” The construct made a loud whirring sound before its eye lit up “As for your reward, here it is.”
Opening up like a drawer, the slot inside the construct revealed a strange charm in the shape of a mask. Besides a few spots of rusted metal, the surface was incredibly reflective—the gleam of the sun shimmering across.
Kass was about to reach for it when he noticed that the small charm began to vigorously shake. It jerked around as it levitated slightly above the compartment inside the construct. Before he could think about what it meant and if he should reach for it, the charm lunged at his neck.
The bard stumbled back in shock, letting out a high-pitched yelp from the fright. The small bump wasn’t painful, but the chill growing on the back of Kass’ neck only grew as he tried putting the mask charm away. He pulled and pulled, yet the small amulet didn’t move.
“Kass, are you okay?!” Teba asked, hands grasping the bard’s shoulder. “What in the Goddess’ name was that?! Are you hurt?!”
“I… I think I’m fin—” Kass’ stopped himself as a strange buzz surged through his chest. It traveled all the way to his throat, morphing his tone into a warbly, dissonant shrill. “What?! What was tha—”
His chest puffed out forward, stretching the leather armor around the two giant mounds of muscle. Most of the armor got wedged in the space between the two soft, sculpted pectorals. The pressure of the vest against his chest and the sudden growth left Kass speechless, dread crawling down the side of his body like sweat trailing across his frame that left him with an open, hanging beak.
“W-what the…?” Kass gently groped his chest to check if what he felt truly happened. “How did this… What is this, Teba?”
Teba couldn’t provide an answer. The only sound that passed his ears was the ringing of a mind under total sensory assault. Kass’ grown chest drew him in like a moth to a flame. That dormant fascination that had begun to bloom when he threw momentary gazes at the bard inside the hot spring was now exploding all across his body.
What… what is…
His wings reached for Kass’ chest on their own. The more he stared at the Rito’s chest, the more the pounding at his skull continued. He had a wife. He had a kid. He was the chief. He shouldn’t. Why was he doing this?
No. Yes. Should I? I want to… what do I…
Kass’ body swelled up again. His torso grew wider, and his pectorals increased in size yet again. One final bwomph from the growing boulders on his chest for the leather chest piece to give out with an ear-piercing snap.
“A-ah… I’m not in any pain, at least… but what do I do?” Kass turned to the construct, only to see that it had retreated into its standby mode. He desperately flicked his talon against it, trying to get it to start up. “Come on, come on! What did you give me?!” His pleas were unheard by the inactive robot. Just like discarded Guardians after The Calamity, no matter how hard he tried to force it to spring to life, it remained completely still.
Hot. Teba’s body was hot. He thanked the goddess and every single other entity that lived in the spiritual realm for having a kilt bulky enough to hide his growing erection. Fuck. Okay. This is just involuntary. You’re not doing anything wrong.
“TEBA!” Kass squawked out, feathers tainted with pure liquid stress dripping out of him. “Fix this, o-or at least TRY to do something!” As he said it, that same growth traveled down to his legs. That buzz had evolved into crackling, intense electricity that jutted downwards and forced growth upon his leg muscles. “H-Hylia!” The sudden enlargement forced the kilt up as it stretched around the bard’s hips and legs.
“I-I don’t know what to do! There’s no elixir for this and I don’t have any materials either!”
“WELL THINK ABOUT SOMETHING, YOU FUCKING MOBLIN!”
To hear Kass speak to him so in a manner so barbaric was like being sprayed with ice-cold water. It was like a corrupted imitation of what the bard’s voice usually sounded like. The indignation and craving mixed together in a raving tempest inside his stomach. It felt so wrong, yet so vibrant at the same time.
“Ngh, my body’s so warm…” Kass whined as his legs pulsated once again. He pulled on the bottom of the kilt on impulse, yet it was futile. His cock swayed through the air and from underneath his skirt. Kass let out a guttural, squawk-ish noise as the indecency dawned on him. “No, no! This shouldn’t…” That electricity then continued evolving further. Intense, boiling fervor pulsated through his body. It was like having Amali’s tender hand rubbing all over his body, every single inch of his frame making him feel more alive than ever before. His eyes jerked all over the place, and inevitably, they fell on Teba.
Teba; the strong chief of the Rito—the man that kept them safe—the man that he’d vigorously stare at whenever he dipped into a hot spring. Every single thing that Kass could’ve ever thought about him converged into his mind like violent lightning striking metal.
Something’s wrong… Something’s seriously wrong… Teba… Teba… I shouldn’t be thinking of…
His stomach churned with the sound of old, thick grease boiling inside an old pot. Just like the rest of his body, it began to grow outward. Instead of the deep, rugged muscle consistency around his limbs and chest, his midsection had gained a doughy consistency that jiggled each time his body throbbed with magical energy.
“Kass…”
Teba’s left talon suddenly slipped on empty air, sending him rolling down to a patch of yellow grass. His body bumped against the hard, uneven edges of the roots of the giant tree stump that held the platform. Slight purplish bruises formed underneath his plumage as he laid on the ground with wounded pride. His cock leaked seed underneath him as the giant frame of Kass grew taller and taller, casting a shadow on him with the sun behind him.
Fuck…
Kass heaved with his hand pushing against the pillar. His kilt now wrapped itself around his waist like a belt—covering nothing and leaving his cock flopping around for all to see. His stomach pushed forward, hanging above his waist just slightly, although it hung further with each stage of growth.
“Mmgh… So… Hot…” Kass’ voice—once a harmonizing, lullaby-esque tone—now sounded like the warbled noises of a Moblin. His stomach continued rumbling loudly—a pair of love handles now seated across his side. They spilled out in a muffin top, further obscuring the already overstretched kilt. “Oh, my goodness, mgh… what is going on…?”
The intense warmth spreading through his body slowly quelled the bard’s thoughts. As his hefty chest rose up and down, he looked at his newfound pudge. Something was calling to him—a fascination that had been unearthed. Such a size was unbefitting of a Rito. They were supposed to be a race of warriors of grace and perfect shape, yet the sensation of heft sagging down from his once pristine body took the breath out of him. It made him feel above the rest of his avian brethren; their bodies were slim and weak compared to the giant, hulking avian he was.
Biggest… I’m… the biggest… Rito… It was like the mask charm attached to his chest was whispering to him, and the honeyed words felt so right. It was like confirming stray thoughts that he had rejected once before—be it out of cowardice or repression. Just… growing a little bit more… won’t hurt…
His kilt finally snapped against the pressure of his widening thighs. His newfound freedom was like liquid peace washing over him. He emptied out his lungs as he exhaled—gut pushing out slightly.
While he once stood far smaller than the giant skull structure above the entrance, he now remained just a few meters away from it. The ground shook underneath the weight of his talons slamming against it—cracks forming with each step.
Teba could do nothing but stare. Was this his fault? Should he have done something to stop this? Could he have done anything at all? Those questions ran through his mind as he got up on his feet. His cock still throbbed, but he just begged that Kass wouldn’t notice it as he climbed back up to the altar. “Kass!” He shouted.
The bard turned around in response, yet that panicked frenzy was no longer there. He smiled back at Teba, beak curving up. His amber eyes were no more—now replaced with grey, ashy pupils that held nothing but uncontrolled fervor behind them. His expression didn’t seem to belong to a distinguished minstrel, but instead to a mindless monster pushed by its bare instincts. The sight of his erect shaft certainly didn’t help either, nor did the fact that he seemingly made no effort of hiding his throbbing manhood.
“Kass?” Something was amiss. The man gazing back at him wasn’t the same person he had been traveling for days. It was a strange, uncanny corruption of him. A carnal recreation with all the soft corners sanded down. “...We need to go home. We’ll have Zelda fix this.”
“Oh, but why do you want to get home?” Kass’ voice was sly—uncontrollable ego and deceit layering his words. He lumbered towards Teba, kicking the shut-off construct to the side without a thought. “I think we should stay a little longer. Can you humor your old friend?”
Teba’s gaze remained focused on the ground. The temptation to look up at the bard’s swaying shaft was irresistible. Flashes of it passed his gaze every time that his eyes wandered off—pushing his cock up and causing pre to dribble down to the stone tiling underneath. “...We need to get you some help, alright?” He couldn’t push the act of a fearless chief. Not like this; urges upon urges built upon themselves in his mind, tempting him to do something that he would certainly both regret and love indulging in. “We just wrap some cloth around your waist and then…”
“Oh, but what’s the point of hiding away something so beautiful? Or is that that you’re embarrassed by it, Teba?” Kass cocked his head back, a striking cackle erupting from his throat. “How adorable you are! A small Rito with such big ambitions and demeanor. Do you not indulge yourself often? Is Saki not satisfying those urges coursing through your veins, Teba?”
“No, NO! You shouldn’t…” Teba felt the words getting stuck in his throat. The sight of Kass’ body had made his thoughts evolve into pure temptation—the opposite of his soft-hearted fantasies with Saki. The image of the bard’s hulking, muscular frame with the layer of pudge adorning it inspired nothing but pure, unbridled desire. “W-we can’t, Kass! We can’t!”
“Oh, don’t be silly∼” Kass bent down—gut squishing against itself and rolls pushing in on one another—and reached for Teba. The Rito chief instinctively tried running away from him, but it was futile. Kass swept the avian in his hand—Teba’s body light as a feather in his massive wings—and held him tight. He could feel him struggling, and that just made him look even more adorable. His efforts were charmingly futile, a poor attempt at rejecting their natural desires. “Let’s get you comfortable…”
“Comfortable?!” Teba tried to breathe through the overwhelming stench emanating from Kass’ newfound body mass. The sudden expansion left the bard sweaty—his azure plumage now turned sticky and matted. The stench was intoxicating—like a potent liquor turned into a gas. “How can you be comfortable… being so big?! Y-you shouldn’t… We shouldn’t…”
“Oh, you’re so adorable∼” Kass gently brushed one of his winged fingers underneath Teba’s leather chest piece. The garment gave out almost immediately—revealing the chief’s white-feathered torso. “Oh, my∼ Are your nipples hard, Teba? Is there something particular that’s catching your attention?”
By now, Teba knew that talking was a Sisyphean endeavor. He continuously tried to thrash out of Kass’ grip—an act with no fruit to bear. Looking down, the temple and the island that carried it seemed so small that it was almost wholly obscured by the clouds. He didn’t know if his struggle to breathe was from Kass’ strength—the altitude—or the pulsating arousal making his cock throb.
“Mghah… Kass… Don’t…”
But the bard didn’t listen. He ripped Teba’s kilt with one single pull, letting Teba’s cock spring out freely—small drops of pre sprayed across the minstrel’s hand. “So pent up… Has Saki been neglecting your needs? You poor thing∼” He pressed one of his fingers against the tip of Teba’s cock—an indignant whine squeaked out as a result.
Those slight flicks against his dick were like hundreds of volts passing through Teba’s body. He had never been manhandled so thoroughly before. No matter what he did, he was at the complete mercy of Kass, and that rotten, depraved part of his mind took that pleasure with full acceptance. All he had to do was lean back and let the bard do his work. He need not be commanding—all that was expected of him was to lean his head back and fester in Kass’ embrace.
“Fuck, Kass… Don’t stop…”
“Oh, I won’t as long as you keep serenading me with those adorable moans of yours…” Kass lifted his hand up to get a closer look at Teba. A warm, red flush had spread around the chief’s cheeks. Underneath the tatters of his outfit, Teba’s cock throbbed as it begged for more stimulation. “And what do you seek most, little songbird?”
“Mmgh, fuck, Kass! I don’t know… just… I want you…”
“Good boy∼” Kass giggled—a deep, rumbling laugh that echoed across the sky. “I’ve seen you staring at me. Such a desperate man… I’m gonna give you what you want∼” Picking Teba up, he gently hovered his hand downwards. “I do hope that you have some good lungs, Teba.”
“H-huh?”
Lifting one of his love handles, he pushed Teba between the two chunks of flab. Before the Rito chief could let out a protesting scream, Kass pushed him deep inside. From the chill that passed around that area of his body—the sky’s strong winds brushing against his sweaty folds—he knew that he wouldn’t be completely suffocating Teba. The small, weak pushes he felt certainly let him know that he was still plenty awake.
“Ngh, Dammit!” Every breath that Teba took was like breathing the raw essence of Kass’ sweaty frame. He pushed against the flab both above and underneath him, talons and wings trying to fight against the gelatinous mass that threatened to bury him. The more he fought—the sweat that he shed—the stench; it all built up to his growing arousal. The helplessness enthralled his brain as the temptation to give up once again crawled up his spine. “Kass… Mgh, fuck… I love you, FUCK!”
Kass giggled. “Oh, I’m sure you do. And we’re gonna have a lot of fun…” The sun rose up above Kass—further making him sweat as he continued growing. The temple had been smashed quite some time ago under the weight of his gigantic rump—now a speck so small that he didn’t even feel it. “Now, keep struggling for me… because I’m gonna make you into a new man∼”
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👑 Let's go back in time then. How about Rikako Asakura from Phantasmagoria of Dimensional Dream?
WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO
HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO
ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):
As is well known, in the Human Village, scientific progress is almost completely halted. The village remains stuck in the past and will remain so. But what happens to those in the village who decide that the current ways aren't good enough? You might think they're weeded out, and they are. But not by Yukari. Not by any of the powerful youkai in charge, in fact. The villagers handle it themselves without even realizing.
Deep in the Forest of Magic, a purple-haired woman quietly curses to herself as she studies a thick book on physics that she recently bought from Rinnosuke. It's written in a language she doesn't know, but she can gather enough info to make use of it. But some things just don't make sense.
"What... what is this... this hells-damned absurd notation!? I've studied every bit of mathematics I've managed to gain access to, and none of it looks anything like this! Don't tell me I'm going to need another damn book!"
"Ugh... frustrating. Every time I think I've made progress I'm blocked again. If only I could get that bookstore girl to come out here..." She can't, of course. She's been exiled by the village as a 'heretic' - they probably think she's already been killed by a youkai by now. But if only she could, that girl's power would be so useful... maybe she could even understand this mathematical notation.
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