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9nid · 12 days ago
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📘 JEE Series Part-18 | Arithmetic Progression (AP) Part-02 – Deep Dive into Core Concepts
Welcome to Part-18 of the 9nid JEE Series, your ultimate Hinglish learning zone for mastering JEE Maths with clarity and confidence. In this session, we go deeper into Arithmetic Progression (AP) — one of the most scoring topics in Sequence and Series for JEE Main and Advanced. 🔍 What’s Covered in This Video? In this video, we move beyond the basics of AP and explore more conceptual and…
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edusquaremaths · 12 days ago
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📘 JEE Series Part-18 | Arithmetic Progression (AP) Part-02 – Deep Dive into Core Concepts
Welcome to Part-18 of the 9nid JEE Series, your ultimate Hinglish learning zone for mastering JEE Maths with clarity and confidence. In this session, we go deeper into Arithmetic Progression (AP) — one of the most scoring topics in Sequence and Series for JEE Main and Advanced. 🔍 What’s Covered in This Video? In this video, we move beyond the basics of AP and explore more conceptual and…
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techalertr · 2 years ago
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Link MS word and MS excel trick | NO VBA Code Is video me mai apko bataunga ki kaise ap ms excel ke data ko ms word me dekh sakte hai aur link kar sakte hai. Agar ap data ko excel me change karte hai to wo changes apko ms word me bhi dekhne milenge. https://youtube.com/shorts/VNmyfXv1SVg #techalert #technical #shorts
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a-boca-do-inferno · 11 months ago
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medicine (caesar x human!reader)
summary: The ape colony is short on painkillers for humans, except Caesar learned a lot in his time living with them. Lucky for you.
warnings: period mention, interspecies (mild)smut
words: 1.9k
notes: lol yeah another one... im just enjoying it while i can ok. my vacation ends next month 💀 boa leitura!
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It couldn’t be later than midnight. You hissed as your cramps only got harsher and harsher. In the cold everything became much worse, and this time was no different. You curled up towards Maurice to try and borrow some warmth from his fur, yet it felt helpless; your body shook like a leaf, and the pain in your womb was ridiculous.
Noticing your distress, Maurice wakes up from his sleep and signs with a worried expression, “I call Caesar?”
You shake your head even before he can say his name. The ape king had more important matters to attend to than your stupid human cramps. On top of it all, it was his resting moment now. You wouldn’t bother him with this. “No. Let him sleep.”
“Herbs?”
“Doesn’t work.” You grunt in frustration, signing with a frown. “I’m fine. By morning it will get better. It’s just the cold.”
“Winter start now.” Maurice argues, still with his gentleness in every word. You only nod in response and he insists, pointing towards Caesar’s tent. “Talk tomorrow. He can help. Lived with humans… before.”
Your eyes fell on the king sleeping a few feet away from you. Could Maurice really have a point? Perhaps Caesar indeed knew some trick to help with period cramps. You did hear he was brought up with human parents, which meant he must’ve had a woman around—you never touched on the subject out of respect, since you two weren’t close. Exchanging a last look with the orangutan, you displayed another short nod. A wave of pain reached your abdomen again and you sighed quietly, burying yourself in ginger fur, despite it being fruitless at that point.
The next day, the colony was awake as soon as the sun was out. It was a rare morning with sunlight and you thanked heavens mentally, appreciating the heat, even if mild, radiating from the star above. The pain had subdued considerably and you took the opportunity to help with supper. Sometimes you helped Maurice in school, but being on your feet proved to make matters worse those days.
You settled around the fire with the girls who tended to cooking. As you were in the middle of grilling fish, a hand touched your shoulder and you turned to face Caesar beating a tight expression. You stood up immediately to greet him, showing your respect for the king. You tried your best to look obedient to his power, as you were well aware of their history with humans, and his reaction was always the same—a dismissive hand gesture, green eyes softening gradually. However, his gaze remained serious now, and you gulped in anticipation.
“Cramps?” Caesar points to your stomach, his gravelly voice a low sound.
Your cheeks heat up and you want to roll your eyes, but refrain from doing so. Maurice and his gigantic mouth. You had hoped he’d forgotten about last night’s talk. Gesturing sheepishly, you stare at the floor. “It’s fine. The sun helps.” You motion upwards to prove your point.
Caesar glances at the pink sky and notices the big star almost fading in the horizon, then back at you. Your inability to keep eye contact with him didn’t go unnoticed, either, making him narrow his green orbs. The muscles in his jaw jump, and he grumbles, his face unimpressed, “sun not here at night.”
“I know, but...”
“But?” He challenges, raising a brow. The king crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that made him even more menacing. You were used to his imposing presence—the tall and muscular build, the scars on his body, the permanent look of seriousness—yet there were few things more intimidating than seeing Caesar like this, with his displeasure directed at you.
You take a deep breath, trying your best to sound convincing even though you felt like a child being reprimanded. “But I have Maurice to…”
“Maurice... ratted you out. Like humans… say.” Caesar cuts you off with a hint of amusement, in contrast with his dry voice. Carefully, he takes your shirt in his large hands, lifting the fabric to expose your belly without so much as a request for permission; not that he needed it, anyway. His calloused fingers made goose bumps on your skin while navigating your soft form. He lets go of you and signs sharply. “Need medicine. Can’t stay like this.”
You furrow your brows. “They don’t work, Caesar, but it’s okay. It’s just a couple of days. It’ll go away.”
He stops for a moment, contemplating your protests. His gaze flicks to your eyes, acute and intense, making you shrink under his scrutiny. “Not okay. Pain… too much.” Surely the ape would never let you be writhing in pain every night, no matter if it was but a week. With a final huff, Caesar then orders, “you stay with me tonight.”
“But I...” At the look he shoots you, you know there’s no more arguing. The king has spoken. With a defeated sigh, you nod and watch him step away on his hind legs, towering over the others. You mutter under your breath, “God, I miss democracy.” 
As the day went on, you did your best to ignore the annoying throb in your abdomen, knowing you'd be glared at by Caesar if he caught you grimacing again. A low hum of crickets began to fill the night air as the apes settled down around the fire. The hour grew late and the campsite gradually became quiet, the crackling bonfire the only source of light and life. 
You were eating fish alongside Maurice and Rocket, laughing at something the ginger spoke about the kids in school today. On the other side of the circle, green eyes kept vigilant over you with no subtlety at all. You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burning at the attention. Caesar finished his meal, glancing towards you through the darkness as you remained by the fire after everyone was gone. He slowly made his way over, his massive figure casting a shadow as he approached you. 
With some lightheartedness he signs, extending a hand, “time to rest.” Your eyes follow his gestures and you take his palm. He guides you toward his tent in considerable silence before closing the curtain-like branches draped over the entrance, hooting faintly as he points to his nest. “Lie down.”
You obey him, your breathing slowly increasing its pace. You clasp your hands over your stomach anxiously, intertwining your fingers. “What are you gonna do?”
Caesar scans over you for a moment, noting the tension in your demeanour. “Massage.” He grunts, moving to sit next to you, his muscles rippling with his every movement. The ape pries apart your hands, replacing them with his own much larger ones, his palms settling on your abdomen similar to how he did earlier. He eyes your reactions closely. “May… I?”
You didn’t respond with words, silently granting Caesar permission to go on with his idea. Hooting again, a sound that almost felt like he was trying to soothe your nerves, his rough skin made contact with your tender one, brushing and squeezing it in fairly skilful ways. In spite of the awkwardness of the situation, you found yourself relaxing under his ministrations, your eyelids fluttering shut from time to time. The ape didn’t say much as he worked, green orbs fixated on your expressions while continuing to move his hands in small circles over your womb area. His face was nearly unreadable, the usual stoic frown now replaced by a look of concentration.   
The ape kept going, a low grumble escaping him every now and then as he tried to maintain the pressure at a certain point to make the pain dissipate. You had no idea when it shifted in nature, yet all of a sudden, his movements seemed a lot more sensual than anything. Your interior was only getting hotter by the minute, accompanied by the clear flush on your face. It’s the hormones. It’s the hormones. It’s the hormones. Your attempts at making yourself believe in those affirmations were unsuccessful, pathetic at best; and it all came down crumbling when the quietest moan left your throat, causing Caesar to freeze and stop with the massage.
You stare at him with widened eyes, embarrassment and fear encapsulated in your features, and you immediately sit up and sign in desperation, your tone just as urgent, “I’m… I’m sorry, Caesar, please. It was just…”
A dark look passed over Caesar’s face as he watched you stumble on yourself with apologies. Without a word, his stare dropped to your body once more, the fingers in your abdomen applying more pressure against the flesh, feeling the heat as you reacted to his touch. He could smell your scent changing and a guttural sound escaped his lips as his green eyes glanced at you unblinking, his hand slowly drifting down your womb and stopping on your pelvis deliberately. 
You inhaled sharply, in surprise and excitement, the realisation hitting you like a brick. The ape curled his digits and resumed the massage, his nostrils flaring as he huffed, clearly aroused. Your faces stood inches apart, his hot, heavy breath against you blowing your hair lightly. You put your arm around his neck and he grunted in appreciation, his expression softening at the way you whimpered in pleasure, begging for more. His fingers rubbed circles on your clit through your clothes in a steady rhythm, causing you to bury your face in his furry neck, gasping.
“I’m gonna…”
Caesar heaved in your ear encouragingly and it was the final straw. You came against his hand, squeezing your thighs in reflex whilst he kept massaging your heat through your orgasm. The ape king continued to look at you eagerly and you tried to get out of his grasp, ashamed of what just transpired. He swallowed thickly, holding onto your forearm to prevent you from scooting away, and pressed your foreheads together.
He hooted, grabbing your palm and taking it to his leg. Your gaze followed his movement and you noticed how excited he was, too. Your mind was hazy from your high just a few seconds ago, then it dawned on you that he felt as aroused as you by what happened. It wasn’t just you and your period hormones. It never even crossed your mind that it was possible for him to desire you this way. You cupped his cheeks as your heads stayed pressed to one another, closing your eyes, his scent intoxicating your system.
Caesar nuzzled your cheek, inhaling the sweet smell of you in as much as he could, making sure to memorise each and every inch of your scent under his touch. He ran his hand to place it on the nape of your neck, guiding your body towards his, until you were sitting on his lap, straddling his massive frame. The action brought your chest flush with his, a low rumble escaping him when your curves brushed his bare skin. He found the crook of your shoulder, his tongue trailing a path over the sensitive area, making you shiver. The king huffed again, his free hand sliding up your leg to grip a handful of your flesh, pulling you closer—his grip kept you in place, letting him claim you in any way he wanted.
“Cold?” He hums, still nuzzling you.
The sensation causes you to blush deeper, caressing his chin. “Not anymore.”
“Cramp?” Caesar rasps inquisitively, placing a warm palm on your belly again.
You snort and shake your head. “No. Your medicine worked... Thanks.”
You can swear there’s a smirk on his lips as he nods once, holding your hips protectively. “Good.” He presses you closer to him and huffs, and you understand it right away. Your doctor’s appointment wasn’t over yet, it seemed.
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buggyboba · 7 months ago
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✦ October 24th | sex pollen
AN 𓏧
↳ ○ | AN| Hi, hello, we are going to pretend that this isn't three days late. I was FIGHTING for my life with this one, I'm not going to lie. We got there though, I'm not 100% happy with this, but that might be me being real nit picky. The Master is a real ass in this one, it feels a little non-con, since a few things happen, I'll throw it in the TW too, but it's not really, just kinda vibes briefly. I'm only going to do one more, (well two because treat won for trick or treat, so I will be doing a Dhawan!Master x Reader one and a Kate Stewart x Reader one for Halloween, to finish it out. Once again I will keep the rest of the ones I didn't do for Kinktober and maybe release them slowly. This was a big big challenge for me, the whole kinktober thing, and that's on me for thinking a week or so before October that I could certainly do 31 fanfictions, even if they were supposed to be short little smutty drabbles. I have quickly learned, I can't just write short little things...I won't apologize for that though, because that's the roleplayer in me...I was absolutely one of those long-ass novel writing role players. I LIKE WORDS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU LET ME HAVE MY PROSE AND STUFF! Anyway I once again tried to keep it rather gender-neutral, but it's implied female anatomy, but if you squint maybe not? I tried, I SWEAR I will do Master x male reader sometime. SMUT MDNI
SUMMARY𓏧
↳ ○  how was he supposed to know the flowers on this planet were in bloom this time of year. How was he supposed to know how they would effect your human body? (Spoilers he knew.) 
PAIRING𓏧
↳ ○ Simm!Master x Reader
TW𓏧
↳ ○ mentions of hypnosis, sex pollen, so consensual, but at what cost? sort of vibes. unprotected p in v sex, semi-clothed sex, the master is a right asshole, cumshot. petnames.
WORD COUNT𓏧
↳ ○ 3100
A03 lINK𓏧
↳ ○ x
MASTERLIST LINK𓏧
↳ ○ x
★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★
You were suspicious when he brought you to this planet; he called it Hevides, said it was a nice little flora planet, perfect this time of year. You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets, looking around as he exited the tardis, which aptly was pretending to be a tree. That wasn’t going to cause problems later, you were sure. He explained that there were a few rare plants on Hevides that he wanted to get his hands on; he wouldn’t tell you what for, but you assumed it was for a nefarious plan; it always was. You followed after him; it was a beautiful planet, you would give it that, but you also had a deep, nagging fear that a man-eating plant or something was going to get you, and that would be a terrible fate, just this giant piranha plant from Wish looking thing eating you. You were careful where you stepped; thick vines were littering the forest floor, which definitely didn’t help your imagined scenario of being eaten by a plant while there. 
“Are you sure it’s safe?” you finally asked, but his annoyed scoff told you it was the wrong question to ask. 
“Ye’ of such little faith,” he muttered as he walked past you.
“I mean, do I have to remind you of the fish people?” You started.
“Fish peop—you mean the sea devils? Come now, pet, that’s xenophobic.” He teased you. You stammered and tried to back petal, to which he chuckled and kept walking. “They weren’t fish; they were more like turtles if anything,” he shook his head.
“No, I didn’t mean it in a—I didn’t know they were called that." You stammered out, “And wait, wait, you don’t get to call me that; you are the most—” He cut you off and shook his head.
“Just because I think everyone is beneath me? Because they are, and you silly little apes are no exception, little backward things you are,” he tilted his head watching you. “Now don’t pout, pet; I picked you, didn’t I? As my companion,” he smirked his tone, teasing on the word companion. He disliked the word, but it was the best word to describe you and your relationship. 
"Yeah, moving on; we don’t have time for all that right now; you told me the sea devils were safe, and then they tried to kill us.” You pointed out.
“Miscommunication, and perhaps some old hard feelings.” He waved it off and clapped, making a victorious sound as he spotted what he was looking for. It was a large purple and orange flower; it looked similar to a sunflower if you had to compare it to something; the middle was covered in thick red pollen. He motioned you over, and you shifted, walking a bit closer. You hadn’t noticed how careful he had been stepping around it. When you got close enough, he flicked the back of the flower, making the pollen fly into the air around you. You coughed and sputtered, trying to cover your mouth so more of the bitter pollen didn’t get into your mouth. You looked at him with a look of disbelief as you doubled over coughing harder. 
“Don’t fight it; just breathe normally," he instructed as he observed you. “I just want to see how it affects you,” he said almost nonchalantly. 
“An experiment, right now, with a mystery plant!” You used the sleeve of your jacket trying to breathe. You felt funny, but not in a funny way; more like your body was slowly getting hotter, your blood was on fire, and your skin felt uncomfortable, like your clothing touching it was too much. The feeling was overwhelming quickly. Then the heat pooled, and you felt an ache between your legs. You blinked, trying to determine the feeling and will it away. Your head was hazy. You took a step back, your pupils dilating more; he moved forward, catching you before you almost fell in your attempted retreat. 
His fingers pressed against the side of your neck, on your pulse point, feeling your heart racing, pulsing against his fingers, he hummed. Your hand wrapped around his forearm; you tried to look angry, but your body was on fire, and his cold touch felt good; it would feel better lower. You blinked at your own thought; you felt your mouth water, and he pulled you up carefully. “Talk me through what you are feeling,” he smirked. “I mean, I can see some physical signs, some delightful tells, but I want to know how it feels for you.” He said like he was a scientist, and this was all a very ethical experiment. 
You almost didn’t want to tell him; you felt squirmy. Was that a word you could use? Was that a scientific description? “I’m on fire,” you breathed out. His hand grabbed your throat, letting his thumb brush your jawline before he moved your head side to side to look you over with that cocky grin. You let out a softer sound, “I don’t know, I mean, it’s overwhelming really; I am shaky, and there is this..." You paused, not knowing if you wanted him to know about the ache, but he looked at you with an expectant look. “I just...feel horny,” you muttered out the last word, looking away from him, but he tsked and pushed your jaw with his thumb so you would look back at him. “I just, I need..." You sighed.
“Need what? Go on, tell me... I am all ears.” He grinned at you again; you could tell he had a sort of satisfaction about this reaction. You wanted to stay mad, you really did, but your mind was so hazy now that you couldn’t think about anything but getting rid of this ache. It was nothing like you had ever felt before, and you were worried, scared almost. What was this pollen doing to you? 
“I just want the ache to go away. I just want—” you muttered out, locking eyes with him. His honey-colored eyes took you in. He studied your face, how flushed you looked, and how desperate you sounded. He looked down at you as your hips arched subconsciously against his, and a snider grin took his lips. 
“Such a needy, desperate thing.” He teased, “And why should I help you?” He asked like this wasn’t completely his fault. 
You blinked and looked at him almost in disbelief, “Because you brought me here! Because you made the pollen come off the flower?” You said shortly, his free hand left his pocket and moved to grab right above your hip. “You knew this would happen!” You accused, to which he gave you those puppy dog eyes.
“I didn’t know this exact thing would happen; I mean, I could have hypothesized about the effects on your silly human body, but I wasn’t completely sure, well, until now.” He nodded. “It won’t kill you, so stop worrying so much; just feel a bit.” He grinned, “You are adorable like this...all needy.” He mused a bit; he found this whole thing amusing, and you let out an annoyed strangled sound; you were getting so worked up, and he was just standing there being amused; you could strangle him. 
“Why isn’t it affecting you?” You sighed, trying to focus. You had a lot of willpower, so maybe you could work through this, maybe. 
“Respiratory bypass... held my breath when I flicked it.” He shrugged like it should have been common knowledge to you by now. "Plus, I’m sure it wouldn’t have affected me anyway.” He let your throat go and stepped back. “Come along. There really was something else I needed to get here.” He said and started to walk. You didn’t move; however, he paused when he didn’t hear you following him. He turned to you and raised an eyebrow. “Well?” You stayed still; you didn’t know if you could trust your legs to carry you properly. He rolled his eyes. “Are you playing disobedient now? Should I make you follow me, pet?” He asked, and you knew he was implying he was just hypnotizing you; maybe that would override what you were feeling. 
“No, you don’t have to do that,” you muttered. You took a deep breath and forced your legs to move; even though they shook a bit, your whole body did. You didn’t like this feeling, this sheer feeling of need; the heat was almost unbearable. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you slowly followed him, glaring at the back of his stupid head as he leisurely strolled through the forest looking for what he was really after. You walked for what felt like ever; the effects were getting worse, your body shook more, and you had to stop and lean against a tree to hold yourself up. "Master,” you breathed out. He paused, taking note of your breathy call. He turned around and looked at you, taking in your appearance; it seemed the pollen was in full bloom in you now. He tilted his head, noticing how you were leaning, how you subconsciously clenched your thighs together, and how one hand gripped onto the stomach area of your jacket. You looked weak now, shaky. He inwardly sighed like you were a nuisance before he turned on his heel and walked towards you. 
“You humans are so fragile,” he muttered and moved to pin you against the tree; his hands ran through your hair, forcing you to look at him again. The touch made you breathe out, “You aren’t going to be any good to me if you can’t keep up.” He mock pouted at you, “I suppose I, once again, have to take care of you.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, moving to let his hand trail down your stomach, stopping at the button of your pants. He looked at you for a moment, taking note of how your eyes were hazy, how you had the look of pure need, and how he could smell how aroused you were just by the air around you. That pollen made short work of you, and it amused him more than it should have. It melted your reservations, so much so that you were shifting a bit, trying to get him to undo your pants; it was like your mind couldn’t think of anything but getting off. “Oh and out here in the open, the great outdoors, how scandalous of you, bunny.” He mocked a bit. You felt your cheeks heat up more. He was right; you would have never done anything like this in public, not that this was public; this was in the middle of an alien forest; you hadn’t seen signs of civilization or anything of that sort, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t. 
You choked out a whine; you didn’t want to wait anymore, yet here he was being his normal mocking, snarky self, taking his time because he wanted to annoy you; that’s what it had to be. He finally pulled the button free, and with a delicate movement, he unzipped your pants, letting them fall past your knees and pool around your feet, but he didn’t touch you yet; he let his hand slip under your jacket, pushing it and your shirt up as he stepped closer, his mouth pressing against your neck, his hands groped at your chest, kneading the flesh there, listening to the lovely needy sounds that were spilling from your parted lips. He pressed against you more, keeping you snuggly pressed against the tree, the bark scraping your back, but the pain from it didn’t translate; it almost felt good. Your hand gripped and your nails scraped at the bark; your other hand grabbed his arm, gripping the fabric of his black jacket. Each kiss and nip caused you to whine and groan out; it felt so good; everything felt so enhanced; someone could be making a killing using this as one of those ‘enhancer’ pills, a funny thought that was quickly pushed from your head as his hips rolled against yours, grinding against you. He let a soft growl escape his throat as he sucked a dark mark into your skin before his hands slid down and grabbed your legs, easing them up to sit against his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, your body so hot, your blood felt like it was boiling, you whined out, you felt so damn needy, you didn’t like it, your senses were on overdrive. 
"Oh, what fun little sounds you make,” he muttered against your throat and pressed an open-mouth kiss against it before letting his teeth graze again. All these little touches and nips were driving you mad.
“Master! Please!” You choked out, pressing against him more, well, as much as you could in this position. As you pathetically rutted against him, he arched his hips up some, and you could feel his arousal, the bulge in his pants growing. He moved one hand down to undo his belt, and you gave a soft, needy sound. 
“Down pet,” he smirked, kissing your neck again as he pulled his belt some and then undid his pants. “So needy, I bet you are dying to get fucked.” He growled in your ear. The growl sent a rippling shiver down your spine; you had never needed something more than in this moment. “I’ll admit, this was a very insightful experiment.” He said pulling himself free from his boxers, slowly stroking his cock, teasing against you with the tip, “like a dam broke.” He teased you; you hated that, but you couldn’t help it; the pollen thrummed through you still. You were about to say something, anything to get him to just help you, but he pressed the tip into your dripping entrance. Which caused a breathy sound to escape. He slowly sank in, pulling you against him, One hand moved to cup against your ass, and the other was held against the tree by the side of your head as he started a deliciously slow rhythm. It was clear he was milking this to see you so desperate that you would do anything. It made perfect sense to you; with who he was, you knew he was going to make you beg, even though this was all his fault. Acting like it was an inconvenience, and he was so benevolent to help you, to fuck you. 
Your hips rolled against him, trying to get him to stop being so teasingly; his mouth found your neck again, sucking against your pulse point; he could feel how hard your heart was pounding, and you panted out. A deep thrust pulled a long groan from your throat, which made him smirk against your neck. You clenched against him, a diabolically delightful feeling for both of you, which made him grunt against you, biting your neck. He got the message and moved, pressing you harder against the tree, picking up his pace to something rougher, something faster; he wasn’t being playfully teasing anymore. 
“I don’t think you really mean it; maybe I should stop and let you think about it some.” He pulled his hips back, but you tightened your grip around his waist; there was no way in hell you were going to let him stop. 
Your nails scratched into the treebark behind you, the hand against his arm tightened more, your breath ragged as you groaned and moaned out, the feeling intense, the pleasure making you dizzy thanks to your already hazy mind from the pollen, you felt your muscles tighten and a pooling in your stomach, from your tensing and how your core pulsated around him, he knew you were close. He slowed suddenly, causing you to make a pathetic sound. “You can cum when I say you can,” he nipped below your ear. You couldn’t even think; your mind was swirling. How could he be so cruel and control this right now when your body needed this? “Oh, you want it so badly; listen to you, whining,” he smirked and made a mock whine in your ear. “You know what to ask for.” He breathed out and rolled his hips slowly, pulling almost all the way out, before slowly pushing back in.
You weren’t even sure you could form proper words right now, and he wanted you to feed into his control; he wanted you to beg for him to finish you. There was another low whined sound that he pulled from your throat. You thought about not playing his game, but he would stop, and you certainly didn’t want that. “Please, please let me cum, please, I need to,” you begged out, in the best tone you could manage, even arching and writhing against him, making sure to lock eyes with him. He studied you and shook his head with that cocky grin.
“Master please!” You slid your hand up from his arm to the back of his neck, keeping him close. “I’m sorry! Please! Please, I need you. I’m sorry, please! Please let me cum.” You breathed out in an almost panicked breath; this seemed to please him because he returned to the rhythm that he had been at before. “Please!” You doubled down. The stream of begging words and praises fell from your lips as you clung to him. You choked out a loud screamed Master, as you felt your body snap, the pleasure rushing your blood. The feeling of need was there but not as strong as it had been. He hissed out as your walls clenched against him and flexed milking against his cock. There was a moment he considered marking you as his in the most primal way, but he reluctantly pulled from your divine heat, rutting against you, holding the base of his cock as he groaned out, painting your stomach with strands of hot cum; it splattered against your bare stomach and the bottom of your jacket. There would be time for anger about that later. After a few long silent moments, he let you down to lean against the tree he had just fucked you against as he fixed his pants and redid his belt, making a face as he looked over your appearance. “Messy,” he said, like he once again didn’t cause the problem. 
You took deep breaths trying to come down, you slowly fixed yourself, and your gaze flinted up to him. You could feel the prickle of the pollen still, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been. “Do you think you can focus and keep up now? Tell you what, darling, we finish this up, and maybe if you are good and keep up, we can have some more fun when we get back to the tardis; dunno how long the pollen is going to control your silly little human mind, but I would love to study the effects more closely.” He smirked, and you nodded weakly, looking down at the mess he had made of you. It was going to be a long adventure, that was for sure. 
★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★
Taglist𓏧 ↳ ○ @bees-fart-too , @bakusquadobsessed , @anastasa-mslfedit , @cabinedepapel , @asteria237 , @suckerforcate , @bingewatchingmylifegoby , @toastvogel , @starbucks-06 If you want to be added to the rest here is the l x
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sean-gaffney · 9 months ago
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What's Left of the Looney Tunes?
So you’re a Looney Tunes fan, and you’re waiting with baited breath (Greetings, Bait!) for the cartoon list for the next Collector’s Choice Blu-Ray.  And as you wait to see if they add that 1953 Friz Freleng or 1958 Robert McKimson cartoon, you must be thinking:  Surely they’ve released every single cartoon at SOME point since the 1980s, right?  Well, except for the really racist ones.  Right?
Nah.  There’s 129 Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies that have never been officially released, restored or unrestored, on home video at all.  And, to be honest, most of them are unlikely to be on the Collector’s Choice sets.  Let’s take a look at the last bastions against having all 1000 LT/MM cartoons available.
Bosko.  Now, there are a few Bosko cartoons available.  There’s 38 Bosko cartoons from 1930-1933, not counting the weird ones like the Talk-ink Kid pilot or whatever Bosko and Honey was.  Of those, 11 have been released officially.  This leaves 27 in limbo.  This is a shame, there are some really good Bosko cartoons.
Buddy.  Even worse, to be honest.  23 Buddy cartoons were made, 5 have had some official release.  That leaves 18.  Now, there’s a reason for that.  They’re awful.  (Also, two of those 18, Buddy of the Apes and Buddy in Africa, also fall under one of the later categories we’ll get to.)
Seven B&W Merrie Melodies.  Two of these, Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land and Goin’ to Heaven on a Mule, are basically banned for content.  Those Were Wonderful Days, Why Do I Dream Those Dreams, The Girl at the Ironing Board, The Miller’s Daughter, and Rhythm in the Bow, are simply not available, possibly as they’re dull.  However, they have been restored.  (As has HtTfHL.)
Seven B&W Looney Tunes.  Mostly the same as above.  The Daffy Duckaroo and Tokio Jokio are banned for content, though we may see Duckaroo someday (Native American caricatures have traditionally been less banned than Black and Asian caricatures).  Saps in Chaps also has some Native American gags, I think.  As for The Fire Alarm, Joe Glow the Firefly, Gopher Goofy and Nutty News, they’ve been restored but never released.
The rest of the “Censored 11”, of which Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land was the first.  As most cartoon fans know, this is not a catch all of all racist WB cartoons, it’s just the ones that were owned by Associated Artists productions.  So yeah, Sunday Go to Meetin’ Time, Clean Pastures, Uncle Tom’s Bungalow, Jungle Jitters, The Isle of Pingo Pongo, All This and Rabbit Stew (a Bugs Bunny cartoon), Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs, Tin Pan Alley Cats, Angel Puss and Goldilocks and the Jivin’ Bears.  They’ve all been restored.
The dog cartoons.  There are a bunch of one-shots that have no regular characters but all involve dogs, and (likely as they don’t have a “star” and aren’t really great) they’ve never come out.  Pappy’s Puppy, Mixed Master, A Waggily Tale, Dog Tales.  All but Pappy’s Puppy are restored.
Miscellaneous “banned for content” cartoons.  Which is Witch (a Bugs Bunny cartoon), Tom Tom Tomcat (a Tweety and Sylvester cartoon), and two REALLY late cartoons, Hocus Pocus Pow Wow and Injun Trouble.  None of these have been restored.
Random missing 50s stuff.  A Bone for a Bone (Goofy Gophers), Sock a Doodle Doo (Foghorn Leghorn), Easy Peckin’s, Quack Shot (Daffy Duck and Elmer Fudd), Trick or Tweet (Tweety).
60s stuff that’s still actually Warner Brothers.  There’s about 10 or 12 early 60s cartoons that just aren’t very good, and that’s why they’re not out.  They’ve all been restored except Unnatural History and What’s My Lion, which are two of the worst LT/MM shorts that ever came out – not for content, they’re simply pathetically unfunny.
All the post-64 stuff.  There’s a pile, I won’t break them down one by one.  Mostly Daffy/Speedy cartoons, the nadir of both characters.  A few of the Roadrunner cartoons that weren’t stuffed onto that one DVD a while back.  They’re here as no one wants to watch them.
The post-67 stuff, aka the nightmare years.  Cool Cat, Merlin the Magic Mouse, Bunny and Claude… those.  (Though actually, both Bunny and Claude shorts HAVE been released.)  They’re here for the same reason – unpopularity.
Note this doesn’t even get into the cartoons which were fine to release in the 1980s on VHS but *aren’t* fine to release now (all the Merrie Melodies that weren’t banned but have racial stereotypes, such as the Inki cartoons, a huge number of cowboy and Indian cartoons, and Bugs Bunny’s unfortunate wartime cartoon).  Or all the stuff that’s restored and out on Max, but has never hit a DVD or Blu-Ray (half of the 30s Merrie Melodies).  Or the stuff that’s unrestored, not on Max and has never hit a DVD or Blu-Ray (the other half of the 1930s Merrie Melodies).  Or Holiday for Drumsticks, what’s up with that?
In any case, when they announce the cartoons for the 4th set in a week or so, you can look at this list and see if it has any of those.
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phan3145 · 8 months ago
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Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Intensity, Implications ) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.
***Notes- There will be no chapter update next week. My father in law passed away from stage four bone cancer this week, and I will be in Indiana helping with funeral preparations and family support. Please be patient with me, as I’m not sure I will post that next week either.
Chapter 12: Asking for Help
You
You weren’t sure if you were running from anger, fear, or embarrassment. How did such a nice day turn into this? You felt like the ground had been pulled out from underneath you, and you were falling into an endless black void. Noa tried to bring you to his village, not because he wanted you to be there, but because other apes knew about you and did not trust you. The elders wanted you to present yourself, to show them that you would bow to them at the end of the day. The thought alone turned your stomach. They had given Noa an ultimatum, and your trust in him had become the casualty of his choice. They saw you as a distraction, a threat, a pest! And Noa…he lied. He never wanted to honor you, and he tricked you.
Your lungs burned, your arms felt heavy as they pumped back and forth, and your legs were so tight that the second you stopped you knew they would give out. You tried to slow down, to conserve your energy so you could make it back before the collapse happened. You knew you were not being chased, you weren’t even being followed, but you still were trying to outrun something. It was the truth. Which truth though? The truth that you understood why Noa did what he did, but could not let go of your hurt and anger over the situation? Or, the one where you purposely hurt him back? You said things that would not only bother him, but were also not true.
Then there was the real truth- you had been living in a fantasy the past few months. You had come to care about the three apes. You had never denied yourself that fact, it felt like they were your new family at the end of the day. Or, so you thought. None of it was real. More and more memories flooded your mind, instances where Noa attempted to bring you to his village. Small, plausible reasons. Like a few days ago, wanting to bring you to a healer. He didn’t even know what was wrong with you! That wasn’t the point though, at the end of the day, the goal had only been to get you there.
Why didn’t he just tell you?
There was no promise you would have gone immediately, but you could have mentally prepared…maybe even found a compromise. The rapid change of mindset left your head spinning. You didn’t want it to be this way. You didn’t want things to change. You wanted to keep looking forward to seeing the apes in the mornings. You wanted to continue learning sign, and teaching them how to read. You wanted to go on more Caesar Journey’s. Anaya and Soona were like the brother and sister you always wanted, and Noa...you believed in Noa. You believed you could trust him. You felt safe with him. His gaze calmed you, his touch always gentle, like a balm on a sunburn.
Every day you woke up in isolation, fear constricting the muscles and veins in your body once you left the safety of your burrow. You could never relax, always on guard. Until of course, that familiar frame and those evergreen eyes would appear at the edge of the forest. You would feel your shoulders dip down and hands unclench, breathing suddenly easier and steps more sure. Noa did that to you. The over analytical ape had endeared himself to you so much in such a short amount of time. You cared about him. More than that, where Noa was concerned you…
You hit Noa.
You stumbled over a dip in the ground, and that had been enough to send you flying forward onto your stomach. The landing was soft, cushioned by dirt and leaves, but you felt the tears flow regardless. You pushed yourself up onto your hands and knees, bent forward as you panted for breath and sobbed with what little air you could gather into your lungs. You were consumed by a sense of hopelessness then, your stomach churning as you realized that there was no going back.
How could you? You hadn’t meant to hit Noa. You just wanted to leave before showing more weakness, but the anger had overpowered the hurt and burst out of you. All you could focus on was leaving. Then he followed you. How dare he cut you to pieces with his words, and then try to stop you from leaving. Like he cared! He said it himself, he did not need you there. You had tried to leave before too. The revelation that Noa had never wanted to give you the mark had stopped you. Surely there was a reasonable explanation. You had practically begged him for answers, to tell you that reasonable explanation you yourself could not think of. Deep down though, you knew.
He only gave you the mark out of guilt- peer pressure really. He tried to use it then to his advantage, since he couldn’t take it back; parade you around the Clan to show off the mark so the elders would be okay with your existence. Make his life easier, while you would be made into a spectacle. Noa’s Echo. The Echo he honored and brought home like a stray.
No. Not again. Never again. You would never be someone else’s possession. Never someone else’s trophy, accessory, or pet. The deep chasm of hurt threatened to cause more tears to flow down your cheeks. You forced a deep breath, sitting up and looking skywards. No more tears. No more being upset, it would do you no good. What’s done is done, there was no going back. Why would you want to go back to someone who hurt you anyway, who didn’t want you?
Your own sense of guilt reared it’s ugly head then, reminding you how you must have hurt Noa. You had been so scared, hearing his heavy steps come after you. You just reacted. You hadn’t truly meant it, and you wanted to take it back the moment you realized. He had looked so shocked, and he had been so angry before…the fact he didn’t tear you apart not only surprised you, but made you feel worse. Noa had been the restrained one, the patient one. You had been the animal, screaming and throwing things.
You felt so stupid.
Rationality began to return to you. A few days ago you had panicked, fearful of the day you would have to say goodbye to your friends, and today you were the one to strike the match and burn the bridge. It might have been fine. You might have been able to salvage the relationship if you hadn’t reacted so viciously…if you hadn’t run away. Noa was right in that regard. You were a coward. You would always run away from the things you were afraid of.
You let your eyes slip shut, head falling forward as you continued to kneel on the ground. You were so close to the burrow. Staying out in the open, vulnerable like this, was not a smart decision, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You focused on breathing, trying to make sense of your new situation. You did not believe Noa or the Eagle Clan were violent, recalling him saying they only killed for food or in defense of themselves, so you did not fear for your life. There was no guarantee in the future if you ran into any other apes though, so maybe leaving would be a good idea.
You were smacked with the realization that you had nowhere else to go. Shelters like the one you had could not be built over night. Then, there was Micheal to consider…but if you left he would be fine on his own, right? The small game would eventually return, and since apes did not eat squirrel or rabbit, he would return to his natural place in the ecosystem. You would prefer to take him with you though. Maybe you could.
Micheal could be your pet.
You shook your head, noticing the dimming sun nearly kissing the horizon. What you were doing to Micheal, it was the very thing you fought against. He could be a companion, but you would never force him to go anywhere or do something just because you wanted it. You pushed yourself from the ground, ready to go to the burrow now that determination had returned to you. A twinge of pain in your abdomen, and a wet sensation between your legs froze you in place. For a moment, you didn’t move. You knew what it was. It was overdue, and arrived precisely at one of the lowest points you’ve had in a long time.
Typical.
Rolling your eyes, you began a, now very stiff, walk towards your burrow. You were prepared at least, rags of cloth for this rare time placed next to your bed. Unlike last time, when painful cramps had been absent, and you were sure you had ruined your favorite pair of pants. Even if you hadn’t gotten the stain out, you would never have gotten rid of them. You no longer had the ability to make a new pair like you had in the vault, and there was no one to mock you for it anyway. That was a great thing about living alone- you never had to worry about your vanity. Never had to worry about looking appealing as a potential wife.
You steered your mind away from that subject, picking up your pace. That uneasy feeling returned, growing in intensity the longer you were out in the open. As if on cue, you heard what sounded like a scream echo in the forest. You stopped, heart suddenly racing as you realized it was coming from the direction of your burrow. You heard the scream again, terror seizing you. Another scream, continuing this rhythm of shrieks one right after the other. After the seventh or eighth scream, you had a strange idea of what it might be. You closed your eyes, listening closely. Then, with another piercing scream, you realized exactly what it was.
You were running again. Faster, harder than you had before. The trees and bushes next to you were a blur. You felt like you weren’t breathing, gasping in air as quickly as you were exhaling it. You slid to a stop in the dirt by the large mass of rocks that made up your burrow. Micheal was sitting by the front entrance, looking anxious as he loosed another scream.
Finally noticing your return, Micheal scurried over to you, whining and pawing at your torso. You had never seen him up on his back legs, let alone sniffing and nuzzling you of his own free will the way he was. You were taken aback, hands parallel to your shoulders, hovering in the air as you tried to figure out how to respond. Would he let you pet him, or would he bite you? Were you just meant to receive the attention and not reciprocate?
Against your better judgement, you brought your right hand down carefully to Micheal’s head. You thought his fur would be soft and thin, but it was actually coarse and bushy under your fingers. He did not nip or snarl at you, instead he pushed his head further up into your hand. Surprise was not a fitting enough word, downright flabbergasted felt more like it. You tried to take a step back, which he allowed you to do, only to pounce on you again.
He kept trying to climb up your body, to the point he actually jumped. You decided to assist him, hands going under his legs as he squirmed up your body. He has whining, head nuzzling into your neck and hair, wanting to get even higher. You kept one hand under his feet while your other braced along the back of his spine. You leaned back, tilting Micheal in the opposite direction. He tried to squirm but realized if he moved too much he would fall out of you grasp. Instead, he just stared at you, tongue lolling to one side of his mouth as he continued to pant and stare at you.
You cocked your head, “What is going on with you? Now you want to cuddle and be pet? What changed?”
Instead of answering, Micheal attempted to sit up, one of his paws reaching out towards the excess material of your shirt. You turned, remembering that you left using your secret hatch this morning. Hopefully, Micheal would follow you. You needed to grab the rags you used for your time of the month before you bled through your pants…again. You lowered Micheal to the ground, who immediately tried to climb back up your body and scurried alongside you as you walked. Well, this somehow became the weirdest part of your day.
You opened the hatch, falling forward and turning to close the hatch…but Micheal had other ideas. He leapt down into the hole with you, spinning around before falling onto his back next to you. You sighed, picking him up and hefting him out, only for him to jump back in before you could close the door again. He was unusually clingy, but you decided not to complain. Feeling the familiar wetness spread, you decided to let him do as he pleased for now.
You left the door open, crawling into your burrow with Micheal on your heels and quickly changing your clothes. You decided on your other set of pants. They were older, baggier, since they had been yours before you were taken as a pet. You could never part with them though, cutting two small holes along the left side of the waist and running a twined piece of rope through them. It cinched them tight enough to stay up, but could also be loosened on days when your stomach bloated or cramped. Micheal watched you intently, nibbling at the bits of food you had placed in his bowl.
You patted your sides and then your stomach, fidgeting as you sat, making sure that everything was situated in the right place. You had thankfully not stained your pants, but they would need to be washed soon regardless. You were thankful there was no pain this go round, assuming the pain a few days ago had been all the cramping you would experience. Again, you reminded yourself you should probably pick up a medical book the next time you went to the library, maybe even one about foxes.
That’s when reality crashed back into you, realizing you probably wouldn’t be going back to the library…not unless it was alone. You fought back another wave of tears, stomach sinking as you once more contemplated your place in this world. You curled up in your bed, covering yourself with your blanket. It was a little too early to sleep, and you hadn’t eaten yet, but all you wanted to do was sleep. Micheal, perhaps sensing your distress, left the few remaining bites of food in his bowl to check on you. He stood up once more on his hind legs, his front paws on the surface stone that made up your mattress, leaning forward and sniffing loudly around your face. You huffed, reaching a tentative hand out to pat his head. He pushed into the touch for a moment, before leaping onto the bed and curling himself up around your chest and neck. He was warm, and his nuzzling comforted you.
Of course, right as you contemplated leaving your burrow, leaving Micheal, would he start to warm up to you. Maybe he would follow you…if you could find his home later, maybe you could take him with you. How would you carry him? You had nothing to form a temporary cage, and the thought of making one, which would take time, made your stomach twist in knots. Where would you even go? Noa was right when he said you hardly left your hole in the ground. Exploring was minimal, and you did not remember a lot of the previous shelter locations you had used with your mother on the way here. You wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for them.
Glancing over to your pile of clothes, you noticed your bathing shirt, wondering if the vineyard was a decent option. You’d be rich in grapes, and surely other small game would be found in that area. The largest problem was finding a water supply. There was no creek or river for at least three miles. No problem for short visits to pick grapes and return here, but as a permanent settlement? Disastrous and dangerous. There were bottles of wine there, perhaps you could empty them? Take groups at a time and fill them at the nearest water source and return. If you stock pile enough maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?
Micheal stirred beneath you, making small humming and chittering sounds before jumping from the bed. He sniffed, circling around the room and whining slightly. You chuckled, “Are you still hungry? I bet you are. I’m not that hungry, so I’ll share my fish with you.”
You pushed yourself up, stretching slightly as you made your way towards your fire, where a smoked salmon was waiting. You heard Micheal let loose a growled hiss that caused you to freeze in place. You felt your heart start to beat faster, your breath becoming shallow as you whispered, “Micheal, what is it?”
He scurried his way towards your front door, and you walked briskly on tip toe to keep up with him. You dared not touch him, seeing him bare his teeth and crouch into a defensive stance in front of the boulder. You heard sounds from the other side, something large moving around the rock. Terror seized you suddenly, remembering that you had left your hatch door completely open. It was getting dark, and predators could be roaming around. You cursed under your breath, quietly making your way back to the tunnel. You could see it was still empty, and looking over your shoulder you noticed Micheal’s focus still on the front entrance.
You took a deep breath, holding it as your crept forward, as silently as possible. Noise was heightened in your ears, nerves on edge for the slightest whisper of danger. You made it about halfway, when you heard Micheal snarl and run towards the tunnel. You expected him to run to you. Instead, he made a hard left, body twisting and contorting as he flung himself upwards through his secret tunnel. You didn’t have time to contemplate what was happening, hearing him bark and chirp and hiss at whatever was outside your burrow.
The mystery aggressor was quickly revealed by a screech and the soft sound of thumps along the ground. An ape! Definitely a chimp, was it Noa? You launched yourself forward, having no time to be careful of the dirt and rock below you, screaming Micheal’s name as you reached the mouth of the hatch.
You hauled yourself up and out, seeing not Noa, but Anaya! Micheal was able to dodge his attacks for the most part but Anaya was quickly gaining on him, anticipating his quick turns and nips at his ankles. You ran towards the two, screaming, “No! No, Anaya! Micheal!”
Anaya seemed to be so enraged, so focused on his adversary, that he did not hear you. Micheal did, and seeing you run towards both him and the strange ape, he leapt between the apes bent knees and did not stop. He ran straight for you, pivoting a foot or so away in a defensive stance, hissing once more. You had no time to reflect on his protective nature, seeing Anaya had picked up a decently sized rock. He charged forward, eyes trained on Micheal, holding the rock in his hand with the pointed edge facing outwards.
He meant to kill Micheal!
You leapt forward, wrapping your arms around Micheal’s body and pulling him towards you. Against your better judgement, you tucked him under your chest in a lightening fast reflex. With no way to protect yourself now, every nerve in your being screaming to release Micheal and cover your own exposed head, you locked your limbs in place. You couldn’t do it, knowing if you let go you wouldn’t have another opportunity to snatch him away from danger again. Anaya was a skilled spear-man and hunter, he would strike true if Micheal was too far from your grasp.
Crouched on your knees, hunched over Micheal, and unable to protect yourself, all you could do was scream out, “Anaya, no! Stop!”
Silence, and an eerie stillness followed your wail. Even Micheal was still beneath you, small heart hammering away against his rib cage as he panted. You released the breath you had been holding, slowly raising your head to lock eyes with Anaya. There was much emotion there. His brows were still furrowed, canines bared in anger, but his eyes held shock and confusion to see you on the ground in front of him. His stance was rigid, frozen in place with his arm still raised in what you would surmise was a killing strike.
You swallowed, slowly bowing your head back down and pulling Micheal even closer to you. You waited, seconds feeling like minutes as you allowed Anaya to decide what he wanted to do. You heard a thump not far from you, raising your head again to see the rock had been dropped from Anaya’s hand. Said ape was directly in front of you now, knees bent and face a little too close to your own. You hissed in a breath through your teeth, affirming your hold on Micheal before you straightened. You rested on your knees now, Micheal sitting firmly in your lap.
Anaya’s eyes tracked your movement, snorting once at Micheal before returning his attention to you. His tone was not angry, merely curious as he pointed and asked, “Companion?”
You nodded.
“No…danger?” He asked.
You shook your head. Anaya nodded slowly, eyes trained on Micheal. You chanced a glance down at him, who still seemed to be sizing the strange ape up as an opponent. You tentatively pulled a hand away from Micheal then, reaching out for one of Anaya’s. He was good enough to acquiesce, allowing you to pull your joined hands towards Micheal. He sniffed, slightly nuzzling against them before returning to being held in your lap. You let go on Anaya’s hand, motioning for him to take a step back before pulling your other hand away from Micheal.
No one moved for a moment, frozen in time and space. Micheal though, seeing that he was no longer restrained, hopped down from your lap and circled around Anaya. He sniffed at his legs, before turning away from you both and scurrying back down into his tunnel. You sighed in relief, feeling your body start to relax, before realizing you still had a large ape in front of you. Hopefully he just wanted to talk.
Not knowing what else to say, you simply said, “Hi, Anaya.”
“Hello Echo,” he said nervously. “This is…not allowed…why…why have predator…as companion?”
You shrugged sheepishly, “It’s not like I chose him- well, actually that’s not quite true. He just showed up one day. I gave him fish and he kept coming back after that and…he was starving Anaya. It just sort of happened.”
Anaya sniffed, “Noa said…fox at…shelter before…that…same one?”
You nodded.
Anaya huffed, blowing a raspberry as he fell backwards to also sit on the ground. You smirked, chuckling slightly at his antics. His gaze was on Micheal’s secret entrance, but it turned back to you in a flash. You swallowed, feeling guilty over the day’s dramatics. You fidgeted, pushing off your knees and opting to sit similarly to Anaya, your legs bent and pushed out in front of you.
You blew out a long breath, trying to smile as you said, “I’m sorry I left the way I did. Is…is Noa okay?”
“Noa fine,” Anaya assured you, tapping his jaw. “Do not…feel bad…more than…deserved it.”
That confused you, brows furrowed as you asked, “You’re not angry?”
Anaya hesitated a moment before replying, and signing, “Not…angry…at you.”
You bit your lip, “Noa doesn’t deserve your anger either.”
“Does…a little,” Anaya argued. “Noa…spoke of…your past…with gorillas.”
You felt the hair along your body raise. It became slightly hard to breathe for a moment, before you swallowed that fear back down. “I suppose he had to. Without context, my reaction to your village probably seemed really weird.”
“Not weird.” Anaya shook his head. He opened his mouth to say more, but hesitated. His hand formed a sign you recognized before he verbally confessed, “Knew.”
A spike of icy terror shot up your spine, goosebumps pebbling your skin as you dared to ask, “How did you know?”
Anaya hooted softly, curling in on himself. He chose to sign now, instead of speak. Many seasons ago. Eagle clan taken. Anaya prisoner. Several days before Noa help us.
You felt your jaw slacken, “Your entire clan? How is that even possible? Why wasn’t Noa taken?”
Apes had human weapons, Anaya explained. We do not fight. Very dark out. Surprised. Apes bowed to survive. Noa left for dead. Fell from Eagle —.
“Wait, go back.” You asked, “What was that last one?”
Anaya slowed down the motion, saying, “Tower.”
The pieces came together as you ran the sentence through your mind. You blanched, “He fell from that height and survived?! How?”
Anaya returned to signing, Do not know. Saw fall. Should have died. Showed up days later….different.
You cocked your head to the side, “Different how? Wait, actually, it doesn’t matter. Go back. I don’t understand, how did you already know about my past?”
Anaya shrugged, Not certain. Saw you….react on first day. Understood. Anaya was hurt bad. Scared. Did not speak. React same way as you sometimes.
“I’m so sorry, Anaya.” You whispered, understanding now why he chose to sign instead of speak. Sometimes, the words were just as hard as the experiences. “I didn’t know.”
Anaya nodded slowly, That is why. Anaya tell you now. Heard much from apes. One ape not like others. Dishonorable. Left his clan. Did not care for humans.
You frowned, “Not like the others? A gorilla?”
Anaya nodded again, signing several times what you figured was the word for gorilla before he said, “Sylva…remember name.”
You nodded.
Anaya sat up straighter, signed a bit quicker, Spoke of humans. Spoke of hunting. Did not like them. Did not like the male that was kept to build weapons. Said bad words about humans. Spoke of first clan. Spoke about what clan did to humans. Spoke of escaped humans once. One died. Other gone.
“I was not Sylva’s pet. The name of the gorilla that owned me was….Gol.” You felt cold again, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Sylva must have been there though. There were many apes, gorilla and chimpanzee, that I did not know the names of. I belonged to Gol, and he did not like other apes to be around his possessions. The year I spent trapped, I probably encountered no more than four apes out of at least a hundred. There might have even been more, but I was kept in a cage for the most part, unless Gol wanted to be entertained.”
Anaya let out a long sigh through his nose, “Am…sorry.”
“What happened to Sylva?” You quickly changed the subject back to the other gorilla.
Anaya seemed proud as he signed, Noa killed him. Gorilla killed Noa father. Justice.
There was something thrilling about that fact, though you tried not to think about your response to it too much. It just reaffirms that you were right to feel safe with Noa. You hummed, smirking, “Makes sense, Noa is the leader for a reason.”
Noa is leader because gorilla killed father, Anaya quickly corrected you. Father was leader. Killed. Clan stolen. Clan prisoner. Noa free clan. New leader.
Your smirk was replaced with horror, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I didn’t know. Poor Noa…that’s awful.”
Anaya hooted, Saved us. Saved mother. Not like gorilla. Never. Not gorilla ever.
Your brows rose then, “I feel like there is a reason you are telling me this, besides bonding over our shared trauma.”
“Bonding? Not bonding!” Anaya quickly shook his head, “Echo belong…to no one…Anaya only bond…with Eagle Brother.”
You were confused, until you realized what bonding must mean to them. You laughed, hands waving back and forth, “Oh! No. No, no, no. Not bonding like that. For humans, bonding means…becoming closer. Understanding each other better. Deepening a relationship through time, words, and actions.”
Anaya hummed, “Humans…strange…but makes…sense…want Echo to trust Anaya…listen to Anaya.”
“Okay,” you chuckled. “I’m listening.”
“After Noa spoke…of Echo past,” Anaya began. “Elders came into Eagle tower…Anaya father is…elder…hates Anaya.”
You scoffed, “There’s no way. I’m sure your father doesn’t-”
“Hates Anaya,” he interjected, not allowing any room for arguments. “Not spoken to father…in long time…never disagreed…or disrespected…he is…honored elder…today different…he spoke…of Echo…more bad words…Anaya challenged him…Anaya won.”
You were stunned, absorbing the information quickly before hesitantly saying, “That’s good Anaya, but…you shouldn’t have done that for me.”
“Yes,” Anaya insisted. “Do not want to be…like them…will do…anything for Echo…Echo is worthy…of loyalty…Noa also…was loyal…to Echo…made elders listen…has made…new laws.”
“Laws?” You parroted.
“Master of Birds…created new council,” Anaya beamed. “There was…elder council…now also…Caesar Council…council is…Anaya and Soona…and Echo.”
You leapt to your feet, “Whoa, whoa. And Echo…I’m not part of the clan, he can’t just make me part of some new council.”
“Noa…has not.” Anaya was quick to amend, standing as well, “Anaya asking…Echo be part…of Caesar Council.”
You rubbed a hand across your face, “Anaya, you can’t just…Noa probably wants nothing to do with me right now, and he’s the leader. It’s his decision. And my decision, should he ask me.”
“Is leader,” Anaya argued, “only because of Echo.”
You suddenly regretted skipping dinner, your head reeling as you tried to process what Anaya could mean. “I don’t understand, please explain that a little.”
Anaya huffed, “Noa think too much…doubts himself���did not doubt…today…broke the laws…changed the laws…for Echo.”
Your brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“Was different,” Anaya explained. “Strong ape…stronger than elders…wrote on wall of Eagle Tower…Soona read…in front of elders…never happened before Echo…important.”
“What did Noa write? What did Soona read?” You wondered.
Anaya smiled, fist pounding across his chest, “Strong Together.”
You shrugged, “Caesar’s Law, I thought you said it was something new.”
Anaya huffed, “Ape together strong…that is…Caesar’s Law…but Noa…did not write…ape…Noa wrote…together strong…wrote letters…because of Echo...Eagle Clan will…learn to read…Caesar Council made…for new…together Eagle Clan.”
Suddenly it made sense, and you could see now why it had made such an impact. You hoped it wasn’t a detriment to Noa though. You swallowed your nerves, daring to ask, “This new Law, ape and humans together, did the elders approve?”
Anaya hesitated a moment before nodding, “All agreed…father did not like…but agreed…Noa made sure…of that.”
“How?” You asked. “If your father is as stubborn as I imagine he is, why would he bend when he doesn’t want to?”
“He knows,” Anaya hooted. “Noa has…never bent his head…and father…has…Noa would not…let him…disagree.”
You chuckled, “Ape politics. That’s a new one.”
Anaya huffed, a low rumble in his throat surprising you, before you felt familiar paws on your legs. You waved Anaya off, picking up Micheal as you had before. He chirped at Anaya and Anaya hissed slightly at him. You rolled your eyes, taking a step back, “You two need to get along and learn to share me.”
“Like Noa,” Anaya snarked. “Protects…when Echo…is alright…dumb.”
You laughed, “He has good intentions.”
“Does he?” Anaya asked, and you were almost certain he wasn’t talking about Micheal. Anaya hesitated a moment before asking, a few words being signed simultaneously, “Noa acts…different…when you are near…you have noticed too.”
“You keep using that word,” you said. “Different how?”
Anaya wobbled, taking a few steps to his left, picking something up that you hadn’t seen before due to the fading light. It was your basket of strawberries, the one you never went back to get. “Less like…ape…more like…human.”
You shrugged as he opened the basket and handed you a handful of strawberries, “Maybe? I don’t really see it, but I don’t see him act like apes that I have met before. He’s certainly no gorilla.”
“You care for Noa,” Anaya said, though it came out more like a question.
“Of course,” you said. “I care about Noa, and Soona, and you.”
Anaya slowed his chewing of the strawberry in his mouth, swallowing thickly before asking, “Care for Noa..same as Anaya…or more?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but there was something in his eyes that made you hesitant to speak. Something in them told you he was not simply trying to compete with Noa for attention, this was a genuine question regarding how you felt about the apes. You felt your mouth suddenly go dry. Anaya, sensing your hesitation, offered you another strawberry, explaining, “Anaya cares for Echo…like sister…Anaya cares for Soona…more…Noa…cares for Echo…like Anaya cares for Soona.”
You raised an eyebrow, wondering if Anaya was implying what you thought he was. It was ridiculous, Noa would never see you that way. And you…
You shook your head, “You’re wrong. Noa sees me, how you see me. And I see all three of you the same way.”
“What way?” Anaya asked, unnervingly refusing to blink or break eye contact.
“Like…family.” You mumbled, feeling as if you no longer deserved to think of them that way.
Anaya nodded, looking to the now squirming Micheal in your arms. You bent at the waist, placing him down on the ground, before Anaya tapped your arm. You turned back to him as he said, “Have favor…to ask.”
You straightened, “Sure, what is it?”
“Forgive Noa,” was Anaya’s simple request. “He is…better ape…with you…than without you…Anaya does not want…to choose…between two friends.”
You pursed your lips, hand running through your hair, “If Noa and I can talk, can get past the words and the…rock, then I think I can do that. But, he has to want to talk to me, and I don’t think that is going to happen anytime soon.”
Anaya tilted his head, “Noa speaks…you forgive?”
You nodded, “Yes.”
Anaya hooted, looking pleased as he pointed upwards. You were confused by his actions, until you saw Eagle Sun land on a nearby tree branch. You gawked, panicking as you realized Noa couldn’t be far behind. You saw Micheal crouch low in a hunting position, scooping him up quickly as you gasped, “Noa’s coming…I have to hide Micheal.”
“Micheal?” Anaya repeated.
“The Fox, Anaya!” You snapped. “His name is Micheal.”
As if just now realizing how things could go if Noa found the fox right now, Anaya shut your hatch quickly. Then, he was grabbing your arm and hauling you over to the other tunnel. You pushed Micheal in, who seemed confused but went through without much issue. You immediately dropped to the ground, using your body to block the exit. You glanced to the trees, noting that Eagle Sun was gone.
Noa was close.
Anaya scented the air loudly, huffing “Smell like fox and…mainly fox.”
“What?” You blanched. “How do I cover it up?”
You started grabbing at the dirt, rubbing it all over your body, but Anaya was shaking his head, “Too strong…need water…or…”
“Or?” You parroted, “Or what? Please, Anaya help me, I need your help!”
You were surprised to see excitement and happiness on Anaya’s face, “Echo…asking for…Anaya’s help?”
“Yes! Please!” You begged.
Anaya hopped back a step, crouching before grabbing you by your feet. You yelped, a little too loudly, in surprise. You tried to pull your feet away, but Anaya had a death grip on them. You started to get scared, feeling trapped as Anaya rubbed his hands and arms all over your feet, then your legs.
Finally finding your voice you demanded, “What are you doing?”
“Scenting…Echo.” Anaya answered. “Only way…replace fox scent…with ape scent…apes do for family…or mates…Noa will not like…better than fox smell though.”
Your body began to shake the more his hands carelessly moved over your limbs, something terrifying about Anaya touching you everywhere all at once. Sensing your discomfort, Anaya paused, hands hovering over your stomach. “Scent is on…chest and face too…can stop…do not want to…make Echo…uncomfortable.”
“Kind of late for that,” you practically gasped through the tremors, wondering if you were slipping into some type of shock. “Why are you even doing this? Why are you helping me and hiding this from Noa?”
Anaya snorted, “Echo is not Anaya’s….but Anaya is Echo’s…promise to always help…when Echo asks for it…family…do not want…family to fight…want to be the one…to help fix…this time…trust Anaya?”
You swallowed, nodding your head. Anaya brought a hand carefully to your face, covering your eyes, ���Do not…look…breathe deep…imagine…not Anaya…not ape.”
You did as he said, feeling his hand leave your eyes, though you kept them closed diligently. You were surprised when you felt his face nuzzle into your stomach, and his hands run up and down your sides. He moved onto your arms then, first your right, which he placed above your head when he was finished, and then your left.
You heard him sigh, “Echo…will not like…but no choice…Anaya is sorry.”
You felt his fingers thread through your hair on either side of your head. You were confused, not finding much wrong with that. You were still shaking a little, but imagined it wasn’t Anaya who was helping. You imagined instead it was Noa. He had touched you on your arms and your chest before, and you recalled those pleasant moments to replace this not-so-pleasant one.
Then, you felt Anaya’s tongue lick up your neck and on the right side of your face. The urge to scream was monumental, but knowing Noa was close by, you were able to strangle the sound into nothing but a wheeze. Anaya moved to your left side and repeated the action, causing you to spasm and jerk under him in an unconscious attempt to get him off you. You curled your legs and turned them sideways so you wouldn’t accidentally kick him.
“Sorry Echo…sorry…Anaya sorry.” He repeated, sounding just as disgusted by the action as you. There was a pause, Anaya sniffing up and down the length of your body, before he admitted, “Think…is enough…Echo alright?”
You opened your eyes, your vision blurry from the tears that had formed in your eyes. Anaya looked like he regretted being born, hands returning to your hair to stroke it, “Anaya sorry…please Echo forgive…only way…very sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you croaked, voice dry and scratchy.
Anaya seemed surprised by this, asking, “Echo…alright?”
You shook your head, trying to swallow your tears and clear your throat at the same time. Anaya hummed, attempting to soothe you, “Echo rest…Anaya promise…will be okay.”
“I…I -I don’t think I can face him,” you stuttered. “Anaya I don’t want to lie to him a-and I can’t explain this.”
“Will tell Noa…about Micheal…in the future?” Anaya demanded.
You nodded vehemently, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.
“Anaya will…speak…when you cannot.” He sighed, “Noa will not like…but Anaya will…help Echo now…keep fox…between us.”
“Thank you,” you gasped. You heard something to your right and turned your head to see Noa.
There was a torch behind him, staked into the ground. Had that always been there? It was illuminating his figure like some avenging spirit in a horror movie. It was fitting for the moment. It had been a long time since you were this scared, and you were on edge, no idea what would happen next.
“Anaya,” was Noa’s growled response.
Said ape jumped away from you like his life depended on it. It very well might, with the way Noa was stalking towards the two of you. Anaya looked decidedly ashamed, hunching slightly as he avoided Noa’s gaze, hooting, “Hello…Noa.”
You took the opportunity to sit up from the ground, feeling cold now and wrapping your arms around your knees. Too late, you realized you would have to stay on the ground, or risk Micheal coming through the tunnel. Noa only spared Anaya a single glance before he was suddenly in front of you.
He huffed, crouching down to stare directly into your eyes. He didn’t seem angry anymore, and that surprised you more than anything. He should be angry. Why was he not angry? Seeing your hesitation, Noa smiled, or attempted to anyway. It was strained. He was clearly frustrated after walking into whatever he thought this was. He reached a hand out to you then, speaking more softly than you deserved, “You are…alright?”
You panicked. You wanted to take his hand, but you couldn’t move. You felt mute, words being these fantastical things in your head that you suddenly felt unable to vocalize. You looked to Anaya, hoping he could pull Noa’s attention from you, if only for a moment. You just needed a moment to calm down.
Do not move. Sign if not speak, Anaya quickly signed over Noa’s shoulder.
He had just finished when Noa turned to look at him. You nodded your understanding to Anaya before Noa returned his gaze to you. His hand was still outstretched, and you shook your head, unable to take it. Noa stood then, looking displeased. You swallowed, terrified what might happen next, when Anaya offered, “Echo…does not want…to speak right now…will meet Noa tomorrow…by water rock…Anaya will…show him the way.”
Water rock? Why there? That’s so far away- right! Water to mask Micheal’s smell, and no chance of the fox and ape running into each other. Perfect!
Noa grunted, a low rumble emanating from his chest that caused a weird heat to flare in your cheeks. You didn’t have time to dwell on that reaction before Noa asked again, “Echo is…alright…not hurt?”
You fought the muscles that threatened to shake as you signed, Echo fine. Speak tomorrow.
Noa seemed confused, turning from you to Anaya several times, as if new information would be offered the longer he stood there. When nothing more was said, he puffed out a frustrated breath, “Fine…Anaya and I…leave now…return home…understand?”
Anaya nodded, and so did you, still firmly on the ground. Noa noticed your reluctance to move, eyes softening all the more before he asked, “On ground but…not hurt…can stand?”
Another brief glance to Anaya, who signed, Feet cover hole. Must stand. Noa worried.
You swallowed, stiffly raising yourself up but keeping your feet planted within the pocket of the tunnel. You hoped it was too dark for Noa to notice that you were currently an inch shorter than you usually were when standing next to him. He himself seemed to bend his knees, unconsciously correcting the height difference as the two of you stood chest to chest, almost face to face. Noa was so close, and he wasn’t angry. You wanted to apologize, wanted to tell him how sorry you were and how much you…you stopped yourself. Your emotions were all over the place. You decided to sign, keeping things clean and brief, Echo fine. Speak tomorrow. Goodnight.
He seemed disappointed, but nodded, grunting, “We go…now.”
He backed away from you, Anaya crossing the distance between them in a few quick strides to follow behind Noa. With their backs to you, you moved from the hole, enough light within to show you that Micheal was curled up and asleep at the bottom of the tunnel.
You took that moment to look up, seeing the apes about to round the corner into darkness, quickly calling out, “Anaya!”
Both apes turned strangely enough, Anaya looking confused and Noa seeming surprised by your yell. You made your way towards Anaya, practically running before your body collided with his. You weren’t sure if apes hugged, but there was no other way you could think of to thank him for risking his relationship with Noa for you. After a moment, you felt Anaya return your embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hands slid from around Anaya’s back, to his shoulders, keeping him at arms length. You stared into his eyes, relieved to see that he was happy. Not guilty, or sad, or scared. You wanted to say how grateful you were to him, how you owed him for this. You wanted to promise him anything in this moment, feeling as if nothing would be good enough. You saw the understanding in his own gaze, a small nod your own confirmation from him that he understood.
You whispered, quietly, in hopes Noa would not hear you, “Thank you.”
Anaya raised his hand to pat the top of your head, making a giggle threaten to ruin the moment. Classic Anaya. He hummed then, reminding you, “Anything…for Echo.”
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utilitycaster · 1 year ago
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Do you think part of the D20 journalistic bias comes from D20 being edited? It gives the appearance of much more effortless play and lets them control the pacing in a way unedited play like CR simply can't do. They get to (potentially) hide a lot of stuff people would jump on as flaws while CR has no choice but to let it all play out. I greatly prefer CR's approach, despite it biting them in the ass a bit through no fault of their own.
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Answering these both together to group cause and my opinions, and I do want to note this is specifically about journalism/press coverage, not their respective fandoms even though there's obviously some overlap.
I think there's a couple things, but I do want to note this was actually prompted by Daggerheart, not Critical Role. The response from several prominent voices in the Actual Play journalism community, whom I will not name here but whom I do not respect intellectually, really was, within hours of the open beta (which as far as I know they didn't have early access to - more on that later) "um it could be better, I don't like xyz and also it's sooooooo important to have criticism" and again, it is important to have criticism, but also you act like D20 has never had a mediocre moment and that Kollok is brilliant, so.
This...got away from me a bit. I'd say I'm sorry but actually I adore writing thousands of words about actual play and it will happen again but I'm putting the detailed answer below a cut. The short answer is I think a lot of Actual Play journalists actually sort of fell into their jobs through being vaguely involved in nerd spaces and aren't actually equipped to talk intelligently about TTRPGs and actual play as a medium that should, at its best, be a perfect fusion of narrative and mechanics. So instead they're distracted by flashy edits and bright lights and cool noises and some abstract concept of "novelty" and write only about that. Also Critical Role is the 700 lb gorilla in the AP space (though not, actually, the TTRPG space) and doesn't give them early access and that's meaaaaaan. Indeed, for all I think a lot of their coverage of D20 and Worlds Beyond Number is obsessively fawning, I also think it's extremely surface level, frequently factually wrong, and fails to get at what's truly excellent about those shows either.
I think, honestly, the biggest one is that I don't actually think a lot of Actual Play journalists watch series in full. I was looking for Polygon coverage of Fantasy High Junior Year and they have one glowing article but it's more about Fantasy High as setting and institution and D20 "changing the game" (also more on this later) to the point of outright contradicting the pull quotes they used from interviewing Brennan Lee Mulligan (also more on this later). So I started looking through their coverage and actually, quite a number of their write-ups are based on only one episode, or half a season. Clearly, they haven't read the full open beta (nor have I, but I think their complaints about the character build process belie a profound misunderstanding of what TTRPGs are, also more on this later). So editing is certainly part of it because it's really easy to see cool special effects and sound design within one episode and shit out a hacky article about it, whereas actually getting to the substance - character relationships, cohesive narrative, storytelling - requires work that I do not think they're doing. And on the one hand I do kind of get it, because yeah, if journalism is your livelihood then you perhaps do not have the time to watch 4 hours of D&D a week for 2-3 years if you're only going to get one article every six months out of it. But I don't think the answer is "focus intently on Microsoft Powerpoint-esque scene transition tricks while ignoring that nothing occurring at the table is actually fun to watch." For more on this, see this post.
The second, which is very relevant to Daggerheart but also is actually a big gap in D20 and WBN coverage in my opinion, and which I put in the tags, is that I actually don't think a lot of journalists have a solid understanding of TTRPGs nor of most genres. And I think Critical Role has a particularly good understanding of both these things, actually, if one skewed towards collaborative storytelling that is not rules-light. I think one really big example is that one person within the space is mad at the Daggerheart questions for the character archetypes because what if your character doesn't fit these. I think this is dumb as shit. I actually think that a common criticism of D&D - that you can't play ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING - is not valid, or rather, it's a valid opinion to hold but if you want to play a character who doesn't fit into the available archetypes perhaps you need to find another game. We all inherently understand that Blades in the Dark characters will be members of a criminal organization in a relatively low-magic setting, correct? That you can't show up to BitD and play a lawful good wizard prince because that's not the story being told? Or like, how in Honey Heist, you are a bear and you are trying to get honey, and you cannot play a human child investigating the old abandoned house at the edge of town, but there's a cool game called Kids on Bikes that will let you do that? Great! Why is this suddenly so hard to understand in the realm of heroic fantasy, that you will fit into specific archetypes? Why do people's brains, if they have them to begin with, vanish suddenly? I know I just did a big old rant that included this within it but genuinely I think a lot of people are deeply ignorant of heroic fantasy, or don't like it, and either is fine, but then they get mad at the heroic fantasy game for having heroic fantasy archetypes when the answer is "maybe this will never make you happy because it's not for you." (Frankly, I think this is also why they love D20, because it doesn't really do straight-up heroic fantasy, and that's fine, but they do keep acting like doing a Game of Thrones pastiche is equivalent to the invention of the wheel.) Like...I remember in the Midst Q&A that Xen said they tend to not like playing typical D&D classes, but their solution was to, you know, create Midst instead of sitting around going "actually, because D&D doesn't support cyberpunk narrative and the character archetypes within very well it is an utter failure." (I could go on forever about how actually TTRPGs are not a showcase for your already extant OCs to prance around but that's a totally separate post).
Mechanics and story are inherently intertwined, is what I'm trying to get at (sorry I'm really tired and have a lot to do but I'm passionate about this answer, it will be rambly, she says like 3 pages in) and I really don't think most actual play journalists get this. At all. And I do think that CR, and Daggerheart, and the people working for it, and especially Spenser Starke, Rowan Hall, Matt Mercer, and Travis Willingham, get this more than almost anyone else in the field. I also think Brennan Lee Mulligan and Aabria Iyengar get this, and the thing is, for all the praise showered upon them, much of which I think is deserved and most of what I think is undeserved is not because they are lacking but because the person writing about them is an idiot crediting them for things they (Brennan and Aabria) would never claim to have invented, their mechanical prowess is rarely if ever written about well. Fantasy High Junior Year's downtime mechanics actually fill in a famous gap in D&D, namely, downtime, and provide an excellent marriage of story and mechanics in my opinion, and I haven't really seen any discussion, because that would require watching the part of the TTRPG show where they play the TTRPG, and knowing the vague word on the street about D&D criticism that isn't just "*nods sagely* capitalism is the BBEG."
And finally: related a bit to the edit but Critical Role used to not be able to provide any early access to press, because it was literally a live show, and I suspect they never broke the habit, and I think that is for the best. As discussed a lot of D20 coverage actually feels like they watched the press screener and then never returned to the show. And I do not know the politics about them, but given that several of these publications (notably Polygon, but some others) have been shitting on Critical Role for several years, and just generally given the way CR's leadership vs. how D20's leadership respond to fandom pressure, I suspect Critical Role does not give these journalists a ton of early or increased, if any. Honestly, why should you, if you're getting interviewed in Variety? And I think the journalists are mad, because they think they're special and should get treated as such.
I do want to wrap something up, and I want to thank @captainofthetidesbreath for talking a little about this in game design/ttrpgs and giving me the idea, but in story, you should be challenging your audience, expanding their horizons, and being new and interesting. In the actual playing of TTRPGs, especially a new one, it is vital to be inclusive and easy to understand and patient and provide points of reference. I really feel like many Actual Play journalists and some TTRPG ones as well have this equation flipped and are looking for challenging concepts that most people will never be able to get a group to be willing to play, and bells and whistles in production, but leave story as an afterthought. Critical Role designs games to actually be played and to be used specifically to tell good stories, and puts story before production, and I think that undercuts those journalists' whole deal.
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Do you think if Adam's aim was just a bit worse and he took off/vaporised Alastor's arm instead of gouging his torso that Alastor would still return to the hotel (assuming he even can choose not to?) and try to play it off as just a scratch?
Deer man jumps into the musical, it continues for half a second before screeching off key when everyone notices the MISSING ARM?!
Also the pervading sense of guilt because no one looked for him.
On the one hand, yes, he's that fucking dramatic.
I'm basing the assumption of potential cauterisation on the fact that the holy light is, well, light and it vaporised Pentious completely. On the other hand, he did bleed, but that could be superficial because the inner/deeper injury was where the heat sat. I need to know more about these grace weapons. We know archangels have weapons of holy fire, so it wouldn't surprise me if Adam's aped it somehow. They gave him a big compensator to shut the big baby up... So like, on the one hand, (hah) he could turn up and kind of obscure himself halfway in shadows, and its only when someone notices that the arm they reached out to grab wasn't really there that it really flags with them that wait, he's made a shadow arm...
Or he could just be using his tendrils like, too obviously and Husk is like 'Hold up, that's unusual for you...'
Or he can straight up just turn up, like you envision, and wave them all off like, 'give it a week and a hearty meal of sinner, and it should be fine...' even though he knows and they know that angelic steel injuries cannot be fixed like that.
>more importantly, he sends Niffty out to make absolutely sure his arm was vaporised, because he fears what Vox might do with it if he found it. Much less the MOTH. Certainly he wouldn't overtly blame Angel Dust if he was made, by his chains, to film a special... but they could never make eye contact again under the circumstances. And it would likely upset Charlotte.
----------------
Lucifer was panicking.
He'd JUST managed to help Charlie, his baby girl, out of a pit of despair and now she was bordering hyperventilating and hysterical again. What was he supposed to do? How do you fix this when the panickee only had the one physical body you couldn't just detach from to panic on ethereal waves of light until emotion negated in ways humans wouldn't understand for aeons?
"Ey, paperbag. manifest. NOW. C'mon short king." Angel snaps pink fingers in front of the King's face, jerking him back into the moment and making the devil realise all his wings were fluffed up and out in distress.
"What? Oh, okay. Why?" He asks, the bag appearing as barely a flicker or reactive thought, and is snagged from the air by Angel. The starlet whirls about towards Charlie, who is sobbing, rocking and heaving air in like it was made of molasses.
"Okay, it's gonna feel like shit for a minute but I need you to breathe into this bag, in and out until you can slow yourself down... C'mon toots, I know you can do this. It's an old trick, but it helps." He coaxes, getting the Princess to curl her fingers around the entrance and align it correctly.
There's a disturbing moment where they were all collectively certain that the bag might just explode from the frantic nature of its use. Then, Charlotte started to calm down.
Lucifer felt his internal core start to settle. He's pretty sure its the archangel equivalent of a heart, but then humans had a lot of weird goopey stuff in there that didn't translate, so who knows?
His baby was okay, she was safe. This was just a little panic attack, all thanks to that Fucking Deer and his bullshit. His horns flare to life, tail lashing against the floor as red eyes turned to face the other clump of bodies in the room.
how dare he upset Char Char like this?
why hadn't the bastard just slunk away and died? Let her be sad for a day or two and then, finally, he could find her a more stable or less annoying Overlord of some kind. Carmilla? She was motherly ish. She had those... three? Two? Ish? girls?
Maybe Zestial if it was the old timey thing Charlotte was delighted by?
What about those media ones? This whole hotel nonsense was ridiculous and would break her heart, but it wouldn't hurt for her to be attached to a group of media-connected overlords. She's about the right age to start her own spy network... that's what Paimon said, and his children tended to have a pretty good grounding by their late 200s. If only Char Char didn't have his heart... she was too good for this place and these... sinners.
Desolate, disgusting and self-devouring things that just killed and broke and tore down and hurt for no other reason than it was better to hurt than be hurt instead. His expression fell into a scowl of furious distaste for the whole mess of them.
This was an abuse of the gift he suffered for...
They tore his wings off, they broke his halo and for THIS? These things that were once human?
And yet, Angel Dust was helping Charlotte settle with gentle actions and the authority of one who had self-soothed through worse.
And yet, Vaggie was holding Charlotte and whispering calming things with no thought but to calm her love.
And yet, the snake fellow had decided to risk everything for a chance to save everyone, today.
And yet, the winged cat bartender was herding the red fucker to a soft surface to deal with his injuries, whether the deer protested or not. Knowing he could be punished, and yet... no rebuke came.
And yet, the little maid was hovering quietly, holding tightly to the deer's coat and making sure he stayed... as much as she was ensuring she knew he was here... and the creature who seemed to revile touch did not brush her aside.
Was this what Charlie was seeing? These little acts of kindness and compassion and vulnerability amidst the muck and mire and murder and mayhem? Was this why she cared when he couldn't feel anything anymore?
She was so like him, that it almost burned to see her... to know that eventually, her heart would fracture, like his had. Like hr mother's had. That no good work remained. That eventually, despite their best attempts, even those they cared for and cherished would be torn from them, killed or fall to their own machinations.
One day all these sinners would be ash, and Charlotte may never rise above that loss. The ache never really faded, more akin to a bruise that when remembered one couldn't help but press on to check if it still hurt. To confirm the echoes of past pain.
"Dad please, calm down..." Charlie hiccuped, leaning heavily into the comfort offered by Vaggie and Angel, sniffling and scrubbing at her eyes. "I overreacted, it's not his fault... I just didn't realise... what I was asking. I mean, I did, but I thought..."
"That it would all be okay and that if we lost anyone it wouldn't be those close to you? Yeah... I think we all hoped for that. But, ain't the way things rolled out, was it?" Angel soothed, an edge there, like he was trying to be kind but felt frustrated by her continued naivety even after the battle. "People always die when the angels come, heh... I mean, this was just the first time you saw it up close'n'personal. First time their spears were aimed at you, right?"
"Back off, she's had enough!" Vaggie snapped, her eye glaring at the arachnid.
"But she needs to hear it. You know that. And if you don't wanna be the bad guy, I gotta do it. Besides... you've been on both sides of the angelic steel, thought you'd understand better than most the cruelty of it all." Angel shrugs, and with that many sets of arms, it's quite a wave-like motion. "I've been a hair's breadth from being skewered more than once since I fell here, its a fact of... well, death. Afterlife? Whatever. Feels different when that cold delighted fury's aimed at you, huh?"
"I... get it. I get what you're saying... I didn't see it before, because I saw what I wanted. But that's your reality, isn't it? Angels or Valentino, or the faceless people he forces you to sleep with for the cameras? The naked cruelty you can't avoid, just hope you can survive until the next moment?"
Angel hunches in on himself, arms curling in in an attempt at self-comfort. "Yeah... you get it now, dontcha? S'why I needed you not to piss off Val, I needed you not to get hurt... I can't stop him with me, same as we can't stop them angels forever... but I can keep you safe from him. I can keep Niffty outta his hands. I can stop him from putting his hands on you guys..."
"...I've been looking at redemption wrong this whole time... it's the actions you're already doing to help others, not some mystical future you who turns down drugs and sex..."
"Yeah, the roleplay was pretty fuckin' bad, toots... it was insulting as hell, honestly. And then you lavished all that attention on Pentious... I got jealous back then, real jealous. All that time I fought to keep you guys from Val and the Vees, and you're just handing your attention and everything to their pet spy..."
"I didn't mean to make you feel that way, Angel."
Angel sucked a breath through his teeth. "Then you need to understand that what you just said wasn't a real apology, right?"
Charlie looked shocked, eyes brimming again. Lucifer was getting worried this was going to make her spiral back into a second attack before there was a chance to calm her down.
"...you're right. You're right, I've been so wrong about this... I'm sorry that my actions and words and the way I went about redemption not only made you feel bad, but like you didn't matter. That I didn't care. You're my friend, and you sacrifice so much every day and I don't do what I should to keep you safe, to keep you feeling wanted. You're important to me, Angel, and I'm- I'm sorry about the whole time you felt you weren't... and it was my fault..."
The tears start again, but this time, she's not quite as out of control as previously, she's sobbing but not hysterical.
"Aw c'mere you silly bitch, it's okay... you think me'n'Cherri never fought? We just got better at apologising... right?" Angel enfolds her in so many arms that the hug seems half cathartic half straight jacket. Vaggie is confused to be caught in the middle as well.
"I-I-I just wanted you all to be okay... and then Pentious... and D-Dazzle... and then I thought Al was okay... because you and Husk and Vaggie and Niffty were o-o-okaaaaaaay..." The sinners were a few more tears away from being powerwashed at this point, but they held his sobbing princess tighter. "And, and then I re-realised I was a bad friend... b-b-b..."
"Deep breath, hun... it's okay, deep breath then speak." Vaggie soothes.
"Because I didn't LOOK but I kn-knew I asked him to fight Adam... and then something was wrong because he came for me... and- and- and-... now he's really hurt... but you all were okay. I should have looked... what if he never forgives me? What if he can never trust me again? What if this breaks all the progress we made?"
"He's literally a people eating not-deer that's here to watch you fail, why should you care?" Lucifer interjects, trying to bring logic back into this fraught moment. He realises that it hurts to hear, but... its the truth. "And let's be real, its not like he's much use now... why don't you let me find you a better overlord to help? The television seems to have a lot of sway, might get more redemptionists? Hmmm?"
Oh, oh no... that was a severely disappointed daughter look.
"That's kind of fucked up to say, Short King... especially the idea of replacing him with his weird stalker. You think Charlie would be safe with a guy who can hypnotise people into doing whatever he wants, and I mean anything?" Angel deadpans, the words rolling off his tongue with a distinctly disgusted air. "Like... he's my boss's boss, and he lets Val fuck some of us into reforming, you know? What do you think he'd do with full access to Charlie? To Vaggie? To everyone here...? Not that you fuckin' care, I know ya here for Charlie only."
"No, no, I care about some of you... because Charlie does. But the tv can't be worse than the deer... at least he doesn't eat people... but that's not the point, I'm just saying that even if you like it, it's broken now. And broken Sovereign Overlords, hah they think themselves so important... 'Sovereign'... ah... I mean, they get killed pretty quick, honey. He's not going to last, I'm just planning for the future."
There's a pause. "Remember when your hellacorn got sick and we had to have one of Bel's doctor's come to put them to sleep...? You didn't want Lady Midnight to suffer, did you? If we'd let her out in the wild the others would have eaten her, this is like that..."
"It's not the same, dad!"
"But it IS! I'm trying to protect you, Char Char! All these sinners will be killed or mangled or broken so badly they'll fade... eventually. I've been there. Your mother has been there. This, it's lovely, it's a sweet idea... but it's not forever. You have eternity to find and cherish more sinners and hellborn than you can imagine... but you will lose all of them, in time. We wanted to keep you from that for as long as possible, but you've always been stubborn, my little light."
Charlotte looks furious and devastated, but she can't quite form words around the lump in her throat at the statement. "You-... You-..."
A large, thick black tendril whacks the King across the back of his ridiculously behatted head, sending the thing flying.
"Shut. the Fuck. Up."
Niffty's eye went wide, as she giggled. 'Sir swore... you really made him mad, ultimate bad boy...'
"Have you considered, that your incessant coddling and blindfolding of Charlotte has contributed to this distress in any way, or are you used to just throwing power around until things turn out the way you want?" Alastor asked, looming over the Short King, seething with barely contained anger. "I understand Angels have never been human, but your daughter is at least partly one somewhere in there, and she is struggling. Not in a fun way that one can observe with schadenfreud, either. And you, all-powerful overfluffed fool of a creature, make it worse with every word... simply because the aeons you've lived have hardened you to even your child's tears."
"And what the fuck would you know, bellhop? At least I did my part against Adam, like you were supposed to. Where were you when she needed you, huh? Big words from a soon to be dead overlord... and she'll be rid of your slick influence... what are you really after? Go on, it's just us father figures, what are you seeking from my girl?"
"Oh you self-important porcelain doll of a thing... look at you, even now you are dripping poison into the broken heart of your daughter, and you're too absorbed in your own beliefs of righteousness to notice. I have never lied to her, watching sinners try and fail is amusing... and let's be real, if you'd done your job properly as King, none of this would be necessary. Why did you consign centuries of sinners to exterminations, hmmm?"
"Don't try to spin this on me, radio boy. I signed them to protect the hellborn, the only actually innocent thing in Hell... you lot got here because you fucked up your own lives and chose cruelty, murder, assault, drugs, theft, and so many disgusting other crimes in between. And for what? Power? Instilling fear? Revenge? Comfort and riches? Well, they didn't come with you, so what's the point in it all?"
"You are a pathetic little thing with a narrow view of the world, aren't you, my king?" comes the sarcastic drawl. "Was it apathy that moved your hand to sign the declaration... or were you coerced by your disdain for sinners? Did you perhaps want to punish your wife and remove the temptation of starting another revolution with your actions? Oh, she did mention that... how you became this odd little shell that sat motionless for weeks at a time, and how she would yell or throw things, just to see if you animated. A little broken doll in his palace playset. How... cute."
Lucifer flinched back. How the fuck...?
"That's why she took Charlotte... why she asked sinners she trusted to keep an eye on her darling child, when she was forced away. And why she was certain to mention you should be kept absent from Charlotte's life... she couldn't risk you infecting her with..." The gaze swept over the king derisively. "...whatever this sad display is. She wanted her to be a bastion of hope for Hell, and you wanted a forever baby that would coo and comfort you. There's a psychosis for that on earth, you know. Psychology textbooks are ilarious reads if you get bored enough to peruse them..."
Lucifer shrank back a little. his body was nigh invulnerable, his power near limitless like all his kind... but his mind? It was a thing created to span the universe and beyond, crammed into a shell for millennia, and filled with self loathing, trauma, fear and self hatred. It was a weak point.
Lilly knew that. And apparently, this fucker did too.
"Look at your daughter, your lowness... look at her face, and tell me if the queen was right to ask you be kept from her life? You, who thinks himself right no matter what conversation he steps into and has such a strong opinion on topics he hasn't deigned to hear the nature of. You who walked into the hotel and sneered at everyone, before talking down to your own child and deciding for her what she needed."
"Al, please... he's had enough... I think he understands what you meant. And I don't like that you broke into his insecurities like that... but Dad did start it by calling you a thing. So I... I really need... you two to apologise to each other." Charlie steps between them, and it's like a strike of lightning dissipating the humidity before the downpour starts.
"Dad, I love you... but you can't treat my friends like they're disposable, like they're already gone and some nameless thing. Maybe I will lose them, maybe I die and they lose me... but we're here now, together, and working on something important. Al, I didn't realise my mother sent you to keep me safe... and I'm sorry that it got you hurt, my dad was wrong, You aren't disposable... but you also can't send him into a depression spiral, I need him. hell needs him. So I need you both to work with me here."
"I'm sorry you are so estranged from your child, and the status of Hell, Your Lowness."
"AL!" Charlie warns, she raises her hand to give him a whack, and falters as it neared the missing limb's location. "Should you even be standing? That's... I mean, I know Husk was doing first aid but..."
"I have literally had to fight whilst half burned and partially disembowelled before, my dear, this is a nuisance at best." He tried to shrug it off theatrically, and then paused as it slightly unbalanced him. With a sigh, he turned to the king. "While the contents of my words were undeniably true, you deserved to hear them in a more... structured way, that... promoted... personal... growth?"
Charlie suspected if she turned around she'd see either someone's phone screen with prompt words on it or the world's strangest game of charades.
"For that, I apologise. It has beena long day , and I suspect everyone's tempers are fraught... you did come in to save the day, after all. And I will admit, the footage of Adam being pounded into the-... Angel, do stop giggling... ground, was delightful."
"Wait, what footage?"
"Why, from the numerous voxtech drones spying on the battle to voyeuristically watch the princess die, I imagine. Vox is rather like that... he has a thing about watching people turned into gorey debris."
"Some overlord was watching Charlotte fight to the death with Heaven and they were..."
"Getting aroused, most likely, yes. Do calm down, it is hell and therefore full of degenerate sinners, after all." Alastor gave another little lopsided shrug. "You should pay more attention to the Overlords, some have amassed more power and influence than you think, and they control swathes of the population without chains... especailly the vile picture box and his little hypnosis trick. If he should catch you unawares, it would be the end of us all."
"Why?"
"Apart from turning you into a puppet figurehead to sell his products to every ring, and possibly also Heaven if he can strike the right bargain? And he would absolutely think himself capable, no matter tha cost of life and limb... he'd barter Charlie's life for a chance to gain money and power from above. I rather believe your wife might have ripped him limb from mechanical limb by now were she here..."
"And he's stalking you...?"
"Frustratingly, yes. He's never really understood the word No. But intriguingly, you two share that malady, don't you little majesty?"
"What? No! I have always been a huge proponent of consent..."
"In some areas, yes, that wasn't in doubt. But where was Charlie's right to refuse when you talked over her and took over her hotel in an effort to self-aggrandise? Hmmm?"
"I don't-... I didn't... did I?"
"...yeah, you kind of did, Dad. But it's okay! We can work on it! You thought you were helping!" Charlie jumped to reassure. "And... and it starts with sorry-..."
"Please, no more singing today... there's been quite enough." Alastor's expression pinches.
"Oops, sorry... are you-... do you have a headache? I can get you something for it?"
"It's fine, I will ask Husker for something from the bar in a moment. I'm rather eager to hear the King try out an apology for the first tme since he begged your mother not to-..." His teeth audibly click shut. "Hmmm, the temptation to start the fight again was winning."
"And it's sooooooo great that you recognise a destructive conversational cycle, Alastor! I'm so proud of y-..."
"Please, refrain from your... rainbows and sunshine routine, my dear."
"Oh... sorry."
"Hey, she's trying to be kind, you asshat..." Vaggie interjects, trying to look stern, but she's slowly blinking like someone on the verge of naptime. It had been a long day INDEED. Angel seemed to be keeping her upright by using her to keep himself upright.
"And I acknowledge that there's been enough sparkles and glitter for at least two afterlifetimes today. Now, on with your apology, little majesty... I would like to get a drink."
"Oh fuck you, you pompous-..." Lucifer takes a deep breath. "I mean, you valued member of my daughter's staff and person who I am not mad at because you did fight for her and are injured, and I'm being nice. I wasn't kind and spoke about you as a disposable object rather than a person, so I apologise that my words upset you."
"That's... not an apology." Angel interjects, again.
"What? Why not?"
"It had the sound and cadance of an apology, but you put the blame on being upset back on Smiles... not on your own words and actions. That was apology 101 round here, maybe you need to stick about for classes, huh?"
"Oh. Okay, let me try again... Bellh-... Alastair... Alastor? Alastor... I'm sorry that I spoke to and about you so rudely. You have apparently been keeping my daughter safe on behalf of my wife, and even to the point you started a fight with me to point out how I fucked up. I maintain that dropping a piano on me was overkill, but in retrospect... I did try to cook you, so... I think we can probably compromise on co-parenting from here on out. What do you say?"
At the last second, Lucifer pulls back on the impulse to shake hands because right now... the left is all Al here has left.
"Well, he didn't start melting from sincerity, so that was a little disappointing... but I'm willing to be the bigger man about it." Alastor grinned at Charlie, whose startled snort of amusement turned into a cough. "Now, I strongly suspect there's a good point to pause and try out whatever new refreshments there are in this gaudy bar of yours, little majesty..."
Before he can turn, Charlie grabs his wrist. "Al, I really am sorry that you got hurt... it's my fault. I should have checked you were okay before we started rebuilding. If I'd known..."
"But you didn't, and the past can't be revisited, so why bother with would haves and should haves?" He replied, airily. Ignoring how Husker seemed to be watching him with the intensity of a cat with a red dot. "Husker, my good feline, do find something in the bartop to fortify us all. Possibly something with a lot of water for the princess, I believe there's little left in her body after all that weeping."
"Yeah, you're not getting a drink... I have no idea how much blood is left in you, but I'm guessing alcohol won't help..." Lucifer says, really looking at the other now. "I mean, it'd be funny... but you'll upset Charlie, so I'm thinking no."
There's a record scratch as Alastor's tendrils pick the now amused King off the floor by his lapels. "And you propose to stop me, little majesty?"
"Uh, yeah, King? And you're, heh, already disarmed..."
There's a pause as Charlie prepares for the Dad Off part 2 to begin... but Alastor simply laughs in that mildly unhunged way and puts the King down. Niffty joins in the laughter. She's not sure what the joke is, but she likes to be included.
"Oh I quite like that one... what else does his royal buffoonery have up his sleeve?"
"Well, unlike you, I have an arm..."
A studio audience laughed.
Husk groaned at the horrendous turn of phrase.
Charlie felt her sense of dismay rising, eyes flickering between the two of them. The dad jokes were escalating, and she wasn't sure if this was a normal turn for camaraderie after a battle, or some sort of mass hysteria onset. She started to text Aunty Bel for guidance.
Vaggie shifted into her managerial mode, getting between the pair of all powerful comedians and the bar. "No drinking. Worst thing you can do when missing a limb... or an eye, trust me... and having the King of hell tipsy would be a bad look after all the respect you gained today. Charlie hinted at something called the Beezelbub incident and wouldn't tell me more..."
The King's mouth dropped open. "It wouldn't get that bad, there's no beezlejuice here..."
"The King's royal staff was on full display, according to Zestial..." Alastor conspiratorially told Angel Dust, whose expression went... odd. "He believes he has a photo hidden somewhere of the event, I'm sure he'd come to a reasonable arrangement to show it to you for an interview about your time at the hotel, and being in the battle, hmmm?"
"Do it and I burn every building in Pride down, sinners." Lucifer teased, manifesting a glass of something. "Besides, I managed to remove that last picture last century, it's long gone."
He snaps and a series of plush red couches cram into the slightly too small space, looking more like a maze than a sitting area. With a gust of his wings, he manages to drop most onto their backsides on the furniture. They were useful for more than just looking handsome after all...
"Right, now... anyone injured and needing angelic first aid, say something. I can't return anything lost, not to angelic steel, but I can usually add enough power to kick-start your natural healing. Also, I can can do this..." He prods at Vaggie, and she sighs, tension leaving her creased brow. "Whabam, headache gone! Wing ache managed! You need to rest those things, Ma- Vaggie, you just remanifested them and haven't stopped using them since. The cramps will be a nightmare if you push too much harder..."
"Thank you Sir."
"Char Char?" he offers his hand, and she takes it.
"This doesn't hurt you, right?"
"No, not like this... absorbing grace sometimes feels awful for a minute but nothing short of psychological agony or one of your uncle's holy blades can do much to hurt me."
"And how does one procure...?"
"Oh shut it, bambi." He smacks the deer in the face with an errant wing. "I think you've done enough talking today... now have a drink and let me deal with that mess. I mean, the stitches are well done and all..." he added, seeing Niffty start to panic at the 'm' word about her obvious handicraft. "but the rest is just yikes in there. you can't vaporise a limb and part of a shoulder without some internal chaos."
"It's fine, hands to yourself."
"Why, you seem to need at least one more to balance things out..."
"If we're making hand-based offers..." Angel grinned, lounging back as Husk handed him a funny pink and green drink that seemed designed for a cocktail glass, not a beer stein. And yet...
Alastor sighed so hard it faded into static, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are a terrible handful, aren't you, Angel?"
"I'd say 'two, if ya gottem' but er..." laughed the starlet, poking out his tongue.
"Husker, deal with your man..."
"Nope, you started it with the dumb hand jokes, I'm not dealing with any of this..." Husk protests, tail twitching.
"Ooh, let's roleplay, Deer Daddy... I can be a naughty criminal caught red Handed, and you can be the long, hard..." the pause was just too long for comfort, "Arm of the law..."
"...the puns were immaculate, but I can't fathom why you're playing this angle tonight, Angel. Surely even you are exhausted from the battlefront, bereavement and building of the earlier hours?" Alastor queries, at ease despite the lewdness, because really he knows the spider is playing.
And unlike his bosses... Angel is rather good at accepting a boundary, accepting a no without it being overt. They had been getting along quite well recently, actually.
"Oh, that's easy... not unlike me, Smiles, just saying..." the starlet flops back on the couch and drops his ridiculously long legs over the lap of an annoyed Vaggie, laughing Charlie and ultimately the arm of the couch. "I'm the distraction, right?"
"Wha-..." Something touched the back of his neck, and everything faded out rather startlingly. Radios shrieked in alarm before falling silent, a rather furious shadow snapped at the King.
"Wha-bam! Got him... okay, can someone get him off me, why does he feel twice as tall when he's flopped over me? It's like he's managed another height joke without words, the fucker."
Angel sighed and allowed Charlie and Vaggie free to untangle the deer from the King, and settle him on the couch. The King hovered a hand over the area, "Ooh, yeah... stitching's neat but it is a m-... er it's a problem inside. Let's try and put things back where they need to be."
"Can't you like... fix his arm?"
"...'fraid not, Sweetie. Or I would have fixed Vaggie's eye, already, I mean... as long as she wanted that. Once angelic light or steel removes something, it's gone forever. It's why I can't put my halo back together, they shattered it with holy fire..."
He looked so indescribably ancient and sad in that moment it was heart wrenching. "That was aeons ago, though, it's okay now... if they hadn't broken it, I wouldn't have you. And if this bony nightmare of a not-deer didn't fight Adam and stall him long enough... I guess I wouldn't have you, now, either. So... I'm going to set what I can to rights. Might be able to regrow some of the missing shoulder joint and collar bone, to give it the right shape... and unsinged the lung on that side... but not the arm."
"What do we do about the other overlords? I can't-..." her voice breaks. "I can't go through all this, all this healing and everything, and then lose him to someone like Vox or Carmilla or... Rosie wouldn't would she?"
"...you wouldn't like the answer, Princess." husker replied, not making eye contact.
"Alastor wouldn't, if she was hurt... would he?" Charlie asked in a small voice, watching her father work.
"...no, but he's an outlier like that. Once he has a fondness for someone, they go into some circle in his head that means they don't get touched... and he'll fuck up anyone who looks at 'em funny. Rosie's in there. Niffty. That bitch Mimzy, but I think its more obligation because they was alive together and he didn't bail her out that one last time. Me, for some reason... never really understood why, think he decided we were friends one day and that was it. You. Maybe Angel... and sorta Vaggs. I think Pentious was in there too, but on the outer edge, cause he could have pulversised the guy more than once but... he never did."
"Okay, that's the best we can hope for, his own regneration has been directed in the right areas. Should be stable enough to leave it for now... but there's always the chance of infection, or festering grace, and such. I'll stay around and keep an eye out just in case. You sinners are so durable and yet so fragile when it comes to things like germs, its insane." Lucifer muttered the last bit before turning to the rest. "Right, who else needs healing hands?"
"Oooh, Short, King, you can put them healing hands on my hot, aching-..." he's cut off by a wing to the face, that flips him back onto a couch. With a flare of golden light, Angel finds himself sinking into a nightmareless abyss.
"Nope. No thank you. Nap time for the overly aroused arachnid. Who else? Come here kitty cat, let's fix that tweaked wing..."
"Me next?" asked the terrifying little maid.
"Er, sure, you give that knife of yours to Vaggie for safekeeping okay?"
The pupil shrank in thought... and then bounced back. "Okay!" trilled the little sinner.
"How do I keep him safe?" Charlie asked, again, into the companionable silence.
Husk laughed. "Oh he'll fight you every step of the way, kicking and screaming... but you can get him to play along if you speak his language. Rosie worked it out ages ago. I have at least a basic idea on it... and Lillith was pretty fucking good at it. Not like manipulation or anything, just turning things around just enough that they come at him in a way he's willing to accept."
"Can you tell me how?"
"If you got time to hear some of the most goddamn insane shit of your life, then sure. He's not likely to wake up and eat me for it, right?"
Lucifer blinked, "What? Oh, yeah, angelic sedation is pretty strong... can knock sinners or winners out for weeks if we need to, depends on the injury. Don't want anyone waking up with all broken bones, you know?"
"Good, because he bit me once in reprimand and those teeth fuckin' hurt. Now, what do you wanna know, Princess?"
"Everything. Teach me to speak repressed allpowerful overlord... so I can keep his stubborn self alive when the others come to challenge him because... because I got him injured."
"No you didn't. He chose to stand up to Adam, you can't make this man do things like that even with these techniques, I promise you. Even without the deal, he would have stood between you and Adam..."
"Wait, what deal?"
"...you want me to be eaten? Forget I said it."
"Your mother didn't do half measures, duckling, she kept all her agreements on indestructable parchment or on a leash. I think... we know how she ensured he'd keep his end of the bargain, no matter how much trust they shared between them beforehand. She's... she was kind of paranoid when it came to your safety."
There's a very solemn moment.
"Of course, she could have also harassed him into submission by showing him the relentless barrage of your baby photos and craft projects. We love you char char, but you were a baby for decades, there's entire vaults full of your photos, portraits and finger paintings. After even half of one, maybe two thirds if he's particularly stubborn, he would have been compelled to make a deal to protect you."
Charlie's expression fell into a thousand yard stare. "Oh no... no no no NO he can't have seen the baby photos!"
"Can... I see the baby photos?" Vaggie grins at Lucifer, and he snaps his wrist to manifest a pile of dusty albums on the floor. Charlie hurls herself on top of them.
"Noooo, don't look at these, Vaggie please... I was such a weird baby and, oh no, is that my emo phase? Dad, why?! Husk, start talking Alastor-ese, now. Anything. Now please!"
"Alright... sure, for a glance in that album you have jammed in your shirt right now."
Charlie's shoulders slumped, defeated. "Fine... deal..."
When they woke up, Alastor and Angel would be devastated to realise they missed the delightful awkwardness of the King going through the baby albums (Vols 1 to 9) and giving a truly sweet story about each picture. No matter how Charlie melted into the couch, begging for death.
-------------
End of some kind
Imagine the overlords trying something and the hotel Responding
Imagine Charlie and Vaggie using Alastorese to trick himse into his own best interests.
Imagine the CHAOS of Lucifer and Alastor bonding. Reluctantly. but enough that the dad jokes, which they both enjoy, become damn near lethal. And Charlie has left her mother a voicemail asking to be picked up because 'please, there's two of them now'.
Somehow Angel is empowered to turn Valentino inside out and becomes the new Overlord of the industry. He learns the sound of one hand clapping as Alastor watches the vindicating slaughter, and only intervenes when Val loyal trhalls try to get in the way.
Imagine the dangers of an overlord who can compensate for loss with his shadows and tendrils. Whose power is underestimated for his lack of arm, and the people who die because of their arrogance.
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bestiarium · 9 months ago
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The Getulian Dog [miscellaneous]
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In the mid-17th century, Edward Topsell published a treatise on the animal kingdom in which he described many creatures: both real animals and some fictional beings that got mixed up in his research. And some whose existence is not entirely clear: one of these is the Getulian dog, also called the ‘mimick dog’, a curious canine breed with a remarkable talent for imitating everything it sees.
He classified this dog as Canis lucernarius (which, in modern biological terminology, would make it a species closely related to wolves and not a breed of dog). They have a black head resembling that of a hedgehog and the intelligence of an ape. Their legs are particularly long and support a somewhat short, curved body with a short tail and shaggy fur. Curiously, at least some of these dogs were supposedly raised by apes.  
The name ‘Getulian dog’ would imply that these animals hailed from Getulia in northern Africa, but it's unclear whether these stories are fiction or just exaggerated tales of a real dog breed. In the 3rd century B.C., these animals were popular in Egypt, where people trained them to perform tricks. They were so smart that people who could not afford human servants would often train Getulian dogs to perform household tasks.
As they are highly intelligent, these dogs have supposedly been used in theatre and plays since ancient times. According to the ancient historian Plutarchus, one of these trained dogs performed in a public spectacle attended by the emperor Vespasianus (so in the first century A.D.). In the play, a character murdered the dog by feeding him a piece of poisoned bread, and the dog perfectly played the part by pretending to stumble down and die. After this scene the dog stood back up, alive and unharmed, to the joy and amazement of the audience.
As a closing statement, I like this story because most of the myths and tales I read are about man-eating monsters and vengeful deities. But this story is just ‘this one dog was trained for a theatre play and he was really good at it!’
Source: Topsell, E., 1658, the History of Four-footed Beasts, Serpents, and Insects. Describing at large their true and lively figure, their several names, conditions, kinds, virtues (both Natural and Medicinal), countries of their breed, their love and hatred to mankind, and the wonderful work of God in their creation, preservation and destruction., printed by E. Cotes, London, p.127-128, 1098 pp. (image source: Edward Topsell, History of Four-footed beasts, 1658)
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studyandsteep · 3 months ago
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useful study channels :)
today's post will be pretty short but hopefully useful. i've compiled a list of my favorite youtube channels for study tips, tricks, and motivation- hope it helps!
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Study tips & tricks
gohar's guide - informative youtube shorts on studying
fayefilms - mainly vlogs and study tips
mahad the mentor - focuses on college applications and ap classes, mainly geared towards high schoolers
helaine zhao - again, mainly vlogs for inspiration + study tips
js park - maximizing studying, how to manage time
Explaining concepts/tutoring
organic chemistry tutor - explains math, chemistry, and physics in concise and easy to follow videos (absolute lifesaver)
khan academy - a classic, focus mainly on math but also has other subjects
Study with me and music
lofi girl
ellene
abao in tokyo
merve
College channels
elliot choy - student at vanderbilt, makes trip vlogs
the college essay guy - lemme tell you, he's the GOAT at college essays. also has a blog at https://www.collegeessayguy.com/
kay chung - makes absolutely chaotic dental student youtube shorts, super funny and entertaining!
hope this helps, and please check out my other posts!!
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siegecraft · 2 years ago
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Defining spaces, work-play separation, and avoiding TTRPG burnout.
I’ve seen a lot of folks in indie TTRPGs talk about overlapping issues and experiences around feeling burned out, not being able to keep up with new games, playing games starting to feel—or actually being—always for work rather than for fun.
I have begun to think of this issue as a game is never just a game. Not in the sense that it can’t be, but that many people working in TTRPGs in some capacity don’t allow it to be. Play has become the secondary function, because the game's primary function is no longer play, but something else. Be that a playtest, an Actual Play (AP) recording, a charity stream, content creation fodder (a review, a blog post, a video essay), a self-imposed obligation to stay on top of industry trends, etc. Because it is for work rather than play, the game is no longer play.
My firmly held litany against that is twofold:
1. Name the purpose of the game.
A playtest or AP can be fun, but you can't trick yourself into believing that that instance of play is for the sake of it. There’s a book I love called The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters by Priya Parker. One of the key takeaways is to be deeply intentional, for yourself and for the people joining you, in defining why you have gathered together. What does this do?
It frees you from the mismatched expectations that inevitably emerge when intentions are not set. The rules and expectations for a playtest are not the same as they are for play’s sake, so get everyone on the same page.
It allows you to fully take advantage of this instance of play for its primary function. Letting go of the notion that you’re “just” playing a game lets you set expectations different from those in a space where you’re playing for play’s sake.
Whenever I playtest, be that for one hour or an intended campaign, I am extremely candid with my playtesters about what I need from them. That the expectations of the space are different than when we play together for fun.
I ran a six-hour playtest of The Prince of Nothing Good a few weekends ago. If I was just running a game for fun, I would consider that a nightmare of a game length! I would never do that to my players!
But everyone had a blast with this playtest. Because we had set aside the entire day for that purpose, and said we’d play until it was done. Everyone came in with the goal of helping me iron out some kinks in the game, and was excited to do it. And that wouldn’t have been possible without defining why we were gathering at that moment, and what we were doing to make mode of gathering work for us (dedicated time, many short breaks, blanket permission to get up from the table to meet movement/food/bio needs, I bought everyone lunch).   
2. Protect your time to play for the sake of play.
I believe the quickest way to kill your enjoyment of something is by making every instance of partaking in it work.
I’m aware there are Actual Play professionals who only play games as part of their jobs and not in their personal lives. That’s great for them, if they’ve figured out how to enjoy it (or earn enough money doing so that it doesn’t matter if they do), but the overwhelming majority of people in the game industry are simply not earning “only doing it for work” money. And until you are—and for most people in games, that will be never—you need to allow yourself time to just play games.
I’ve run a weekly home game since I got into TTRPGs, and I consider that space is sacred. Some of the players help me playtest outside of that game, but that weekly meeting is just for play, not work. Dedicating time for play to just be play makes it possible for it to be other things, too.  
I’ve never experienced anything consider close to the TTRPG burnout, exhaustion, and frustration that I’ve heard many people talk about. I’ve done it to myself with other things! I used to read and evaluate theatre scripts for work. I’ve read literally hundreds of plays. And there was a whole chunk of time where I was still doing that and I absolutely dreaded reading plays. A friend invited me to a play reading group during the pandemic and I had to decline because reading plays was synonymous with evaluating them for what was honestly not enough money to do it.
So I just stopped. I don’t read scripts for pay anymore, and I stopped reading them for fun too, because I was at a place of deficit where even doing it “just” for fun was not appealing. I’m only now getting to a place where I am interested in reading theatrical work again. It is much harder to get back to a place of enjoyment than it is to never depart in the first place.
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ohwaitimthewriter · 1 year ago
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Thinking about forehead kisses with our ape men and in the emotional short moment dropping in a barely audible whisper an « I love you » because sh*t we also need as human to verbalize our feelings towards our loved ones and having Noa being absolutely clueless in the deep meaning of these words you spoke to him at this exact moment but accepting them nonetheless even if he’s going to ask you why you’d say that later on and what true meaning it holds in your human culture.
Whereas having Caesar grasping the actual meaning of it but not being able to understand the full notion as of course he knows you accepted him as your mate so obviously you share these feelings so why are you verbalizing them there is no point because he already knows and oh well let’s accept them because if it’s important to you it’s important to him and he even might use it to trick you in getting what he wants in the most heated moment.
DON’T TOUCH ME I HAVE FEELS
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sickly-qt · 8 months ago
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A Day in the Life of Drew
This is what I meant when I said I still have some suffering for Drew coming up.
There will most definitely be a part 2 of this coming up!
Part 2!
I posted this from my phone so if anything looks wonky that’s why ✨
~~~~~
Anyone that ever said pregnancy is a blessing, that you feel like the epitome of femininity, that it makes you glow… is a massive liar.
Drew looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes sunken and bloodshot, her face paler than she is normally. Pregnancy glow her ass.
She took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth trying to keep her nausea at bay. She knew it was futile but she felt like she had to try, one of these times it would work. This time wasn’t it.
She didn’t even bother trying to make it to the toilet, knowing that she was only going to puke up water and bile. She was still bent over the bathroom sink when Finn came in, shirtless and half asleep. He sat a glass of water on the sink next to Drew’s hand.
“You okay?” he asked groggily.
Drew nodded, “I didn’t mean to wake you up… What time is it?”
Finn shrugged, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head on her back. “Around 5:30 I think.” She melted into his warmth, his breathing rustling her hair.
“So about 2 more hours until you have to get ready for work?”
“Mhmm,” he nodded against her back.
“Can we lay down? I just- I want to be with you.”
Drew rinsed out her mouth and turned to face Finn, forcing him to stand up and laid her head against his chest.
“Can you drink some water for me first?” He asked quietly, picking up the glass from the sink.
She whined, but lifted her head, taking the glass from him and taking a couple sips.
“Now we can go lay down.”
Knocking out as soon as she hit the bed was one of Drew’s newfound talents that came with being pregnant. When she woke up Finn was gone and light was coming in through the cracks of her curtains.
She stretched and groaned, rolling to the side to check her phone.
Nothing, per the usual.
She was hungry which she knew was a cruel ruse her body did to trick her into eating something to throw up later.
Still, she padded her way out to the kitchen and made herself some maple and brown sugar oatmeal, the only thing she can manage to keep down about 50% of the time.
There was a sticky note on the counter with Finn’s scrawling handwriting.
“I’ll be home a little late tonight, order some of your favorite takeout for dinner, I love you.
She smiled and scoffed a bit that he thought she would get anything for dinner with how she’s been feeling lately, then stuck it on the fridge with all the rest of the notes he leaves for her in the morning.
She got changed and stared at herself in the mirror for way too long trying to decide if she was starting to show. Logically, she knew that she had been losing weight. Logically, she knew she probably wasn’t far enough along to be showing yet, she didn’t know how far along she was at all. She had an appointment later that week to figure all that out. But logic was the last thing on her mind and for now she just stared at her stomach as if she were waiting for an alien to burst out of it. She pulled on one of Finn’s t-shirts that almost fully covered the bike shorts she was wearing and then walked down to the coffee shop to get her one decaf she was allowed a day. Usually it was the highlight of her morning but today the smell made her nauseous and her coffee sat on the counter untouched as she retched up her breakfast down the hall.
When she was finished and thoroughly miserable she walked back out to the kitchen, gagging as she dumped her coffee down the drain, leading to a round of dry heaving over the sink.
She got herself a cup of water and collapsed onto the couch, taking small sips that settled heavily in her stomach.
Today was going to be a long day.
~~~
When Finn got home he was surprised to see that the apartment was dim, only the lamp in the living room on, the TV was in sleep mode, rainbow starbursts appearing across the screen from sitting paused for so long.
“Drew?” He called softly then headed down the hall to check the bedroom for her. He had to double back when he caught her in the corner of his eye.
“Hey, Love.” Finn said, sympathy painted all over his face, “How long have you been in here?”
Drew shrugged, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes from where she sat on the bathroom floor.
“It’s been a really rough day.” She said, barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Baby. When was the last time you had some water?” Finn stepped into the bathroom and knelt down, trying to get a better look at her.
She shrugged again and her eyes went to an empty water bottle at her side, “It just comes back up.” she mumbled, “Your kid is trying to kill me.”
Finn sighed and took her water bottle, refilling it and bringing it back to coax a couple of sips into her.
“It’ll help you feel better love, promise. Then you can curl up in bed okay?” He cooed, when she turned her nose to the water. He was able to get her to drink a bit before helping her up off the floor. As soon as she was on her feet she swayed, her eyes closing tight and her hand going to her head.
“It hurts.” She whined.
“Yeah, I know, you’re scary dehydrated Love. We just have to get some water in you and then lay down and you’ll be feeling good as new.” Finn said, steadying her.
Drew’s eyes were still screwed shut when her frame was wracked with a gag and her hand shifted from her temple to her mouth and she gagged again.
“You’re okay.” Finn muttered, continuing to steady her as she dove for the sink. She coughed up what appeared to be straight water and continued to dry heave long after she had stopped bringing anything up.
After she was done, Finn watched, as all the color that was left in her face drained and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
“Shit, Drew!” He yelped, jumping forward to catch her as her knees buckled. “Okay,” He scooped her up, one hand behind her back and the other under her knees. Her weight in his arms hid the fact that he was vibrating with anxiety. “E.R. We’re going to the E.R.”
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theirongriever · 6 days ago
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18
I will be 18 in a tenday, so here are 18 things i've learned in this short existence of mine
1)People are only curious about difference if the different object is weaker. They will gather around a peculiar child and laugh and ask questions and clap when the genius ape answers so peculiarly, but when this defectively strange offspring grows and grows into not quite a woman, they will look at it disgusted, offended, afeared as well. They will throw metaphysical rocks and prepare the social stake for fire, and the strange child will prefer the fate of being tied up at the center of this loveless pyre over being the center of this circus.
2) Just like some people are born with a beautiful singing voice or astonishing flexibility, some people are born with Loneliness. Loneliness is the gift of the poet, the curse of the lover. The asphyxiating hug of safety without affection, the only place that feels like home and the only home that feels like death. When you accept this part of you, when you commune with this ache for vast grass plains and empty apartments, you realize that, like a vampire, you can live with this hunger as long as you don't subject your loved ones to it. You need to keep your distance, close enough for them to feel your warmth and far enough for them not to feel you go cold. Arms length as the definition of closeness.
3) You can't make a poem out of a broken home. No matter how much you try to turn the thorned roses into vines, the tired hinges of a door slammed many times into a squeaky choir, the broken plates into the most patient jigsaw, the blood unshed running in your veins will never turn red. It will always be blue, like a bruise.
4) Forgiveness is found in desperation. You will find it in yourself to forgive death as you squirm under torture, so will you find it in yourself to forgive a long lost sister under the fist of your father. The skin fuses under thunder, the hearts bleed in communion.
5) Forgiveness is also a cut of freedom. You will spend years being angry, fanning the flames of you wrath and holding on, always tighter to the hurt, to the mistakes they have made, to the wrongs you have endured. You will think that as long as you keep this rancor close to your chest, they will be punished, because if there weren't any consequences to their actions, at least your anger kept them hurting, kept them from being completly free of their deeds. But here is the trick : they are still free, and you are still held hostage by this spite in your bile. Forgiving them feels like liberation when you realize you aren't allowing them to get away with it, they already did, you are allowing yourself to accept the flaws that hurt you and move on with your life. You unlock the chains you made for yourself and you realize that you will never think about them again.
6) There are a thousand different masks you can try on to fit in. A billion personalities you can pick out in your teenage wardrobe. All the clothes are itchy, and they scrape at your skin and wear down your teeth when you grind them. Shed them, and be alone for a while. Find new people, realize you've been masking again. Take off the mask, and be alone once more. Repeat until you find it in yourself to leave the mask on your bedside. Repeat again until you turn on your pillow to face a gentle gaze, your own.
7) Betrayal never comes from the front, but it never comes as a surprise either. All the times you have ignored the worms in your stomach poking at your acidic doubt, your gut twisting at a word they said or a look they gave. You will learn to engage with it in time. Until then, the stabs won't stop and you shouldn't stop them. But you shouldn't hold onto the tight scars either, life is too short for the word "fear" to be the last one on your tongue.
8) Pride and Prejudice 2005 is a masterpiece, never be ashamed of rewatching it for the 675th time.
9) Some questions will go unanswered for years. Living the question is often the solution to reach the answer.
10) You will surrender parts of yourself to lovers, and cut out enough of your edges to fit in their hands. But when you do, you will find out you don't want the hands that clutch, the fingers that grip, the tongue that sneaks. You will thrash to escape and pick up your pieces. You will promise yourself to never do it again, then catch the trapping gaze of their echo.
11) Womanhood has claws and bloody fangs. It is all spit and rotting scabs. You reject it as a child, loathe it as a teenager, tentatively reach out to it and learn that you can never really escape it. In the unfairness of it all, you are not alone. You never were.
12) Religion doesn't love you. It never did. The gods are fake, the statues polystryene, the chants are hollow and when you sacrifice yourself at the altar, you find the sky black and empty. Religion is a man's ego, the selfishness of a phallus. If you want to find a creator, if you want to speak with a higher force, you hold the rocks at the riverbank until they grow dark with sweat. You pass the dirt from your right hand to your left, and you let the leaves whisper their secrets as they brush against the forest floor.
13) Life is an act of letting go. And finding again. But you should still linger a while longer on my couch. And talk about nothing sat at the foot of my bed. I will fold your clothes and you will fix me a weird dinner. We know our friendship is on its way to the door, but we still hold hands and lay on the floor.
14) Comfort can be found in a lot of things, but it doesn't mean you should linger there. Some comforts soothe your heart but wear down your soul. The best forms of comforts are the one that can travel from cycle to cycle with you. A pen, paper, a dry flower and an apology should fit in your bag.
15) Love shouldn't feel like fighting every cell in your body. It shouldn't feel like closing your eyes to endure better.
16) You will make mistakes and you will hurt people you love. You will hurt people a lot and not know when to apologize or how to. Sometimes you will lose them. It is a shame, but it is inevitable. You are not cruel, you are just 16. Learn, try again. Fail better.
17) It always gets better. And then it always goes down. Ride the tides with the certainty that dawn will greet you the next morning, and kiss your face with gentle understanding. Feel it receeding, long enough to steel yourself for the next wave. You will not break.
18) There is too much to do in this life to compromise with another. Don't you dare cut your dreams short for the sake of someone else's, or become something you can't back out from. Question your heart, dig deep in your bones and fetch out everything you want to become, all the lives you want to live, disappear one day, never go back. Hop on a train, get in the car.
Happy birthday to my old bones :)
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beaft · 2 years ago
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Is there a special trick to writing in a Seussian style?
A Seussian style is quite easy to ape:
just short easy words, plus a joke or a jape.
Internal rhyme all the time if you can,
but first off, make sure that your sentences scan.
Getting the rhythm correct is an art -
miss just one syllable and the whole damn thing falls apart.
Toss in wacky creatures with muddlesome names,
like Glipperty-Glupper. Or Poffle. Or James.
Remember to use anapestic tetrameter,
And if you can't rhyme, invent words. (Like "calamiter".)
For good measure, add some bizarre made-up places,
And a sprinkle of nonsense. Now you're off to the races!
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