#funny how fear can lead to positive changes like that

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your true colors - (2/7) Orange"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a message for you from the color orange, the second of the 7 rainbow's colors. in this serie of readings about the rainbow's colors, I will try to channel about your true colors, so to help you look inside and see your most beautiful self, appreciate yourself more and hopefully provide some type of guidance if necessary. as cindy lauper would say: "your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow", so let's look at them and hear what they have to say to you and how they (you) can help you look at things in a more positive way.

orange is the color of meditation, simplicity, compassion, excitement, joy, adventure, sensuality, pleasure (sacral chakra)... in this reading, I'll try to analyze this side of your character.

you can find the other colors' readings in the pacs list in my pinned post

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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pile 1

You are someone stimulating, happy, funny, but somehow you don't always tell everything that's behind that. You should be more vocal about your needs in any area of your life. You should ask for more. If you fear being labeled as needy, that's not the truth: people call you needy when they cannot handle their own needs too or were taught to not ask cause they dealt with people unable to provide/meet their needs as well. We're humans, we all have needs. Don't be afraid to ask. The worst that can happen is getting a "No" but it's nothing you haven't dealt with, right? You can survive that, you can ask for something else and get it instead. And it's fine. Maybe, it'll be even better than what you are asking for, who knows (maybe asking and getting a no will lead you to a different path, a better one even). But you'll know for sure instead of tormenting yourself over a matter without even asking for it. You can also compromise if necessary. And you can also be the one saying "No" and standing your boundaries. Try to be more in touch with yourself, to be more yourself also when you deal with others. To be more true with yourself and your needs too, to accept your needs first and foremost, cause you may pretend you don't actually need help or support when you actually do. Be in touch with that side of you. So don't be scared of being too much for anyone, you're not. You're not too much. Ask back for what you give, balance the energy in you. At times we tend to overdo things, to hide ourselves, to make things more complicated than they really are. And we help creating regrets and resentment as well this way. Be more simple, just ask or talk instead of letting fear and stress take over. You are allowed to ask and talk. Actually, you should. Do not wait for others to ask you or address you something. Not everyone has your same emotional depth or empathy, or can always read your mind, sometimes people just need to hear your words to answer you accordingly and meet your needs (and it's not out of selfishness or cause they hate you, they're just different and dealing with their own things too). Be more in touch with yourself to help them help you too. Meditate more. It will help you deepen your relationships with yourself and others. I think that's something you want, also in love/physical acts, if applies. You can have what you want, just be more simple in your approach to it. Simplify things, simplify your life instead of complicating it by overthinking and worrying (not easy at times but... try maybe). You have already all the answers inside of you, don't be scared to hear them and pour them out. Be your whole beautiful self.

song: fallin' all in you | shawn mendes

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pile 2

You know your complexity, you know your worth and you know you are probably called to leave a footprint somewhere in this world. I think you're not afraid of trying new things, of escalating mountains and generally reaching higher. You also know when it's time to take a timeout for yourself, when you need to focus on something or not. You know when it's time to change, you're pretty much a meditative person. You're kinda brave too. But you're also very giving. And you're higly supported by your Guides and Angels and ancestors too. I think you know about your worth as a spiritual being, about your worth as a soul that brings light into this world but at times you tend to forget that or you happen to have many spiritual awakenings (and tower moments) that may mine your beliefs and self confidence. Reconnect with your body and listen to it. I know it sounds weird cause we're mentioning about spiritual things (we're gonna talk more specifically about this side in another color's reading I hear) but our bodies hold many more answers than we're aware of. For example your body may show you through tiredness how hard your soul is working to change, how much you're changing inside without being aware. Give your body rest when this happens. If you're having specific physical needs, try to meet them. There's nothing wrong. Touch and caress yourself, explore yourself, meditate inside and outside. Don't grow separated from your body (as it may happen when you concentrate too much on your inside world and maybe healing too). Remember to hug yourself and compliment yourself on your look and your abilities everytime you can. Don't let yourself grow thirsty for compliments and accolades, you deserve them, start giving them to yourself anytime you need, anytime you realize you've done something worth of that (and it could even be just getting out of bed on a tough day: it doesn't have to be anything "big", what we consider little things are big too if we put under the right light -see yourself as you'd see a friend). Also never be too harsh on you, look at all you've done: your worth never depends on a single bad day, be lighter. Get closer to you with love. Be more curious about who you are on all levels, especially be more curious about your body, do not separate from it. Again, know and listen to your body and don't be scared of it and what is telling you. Do not keep it at a distance, it's part of you. It always tells you about how you do on a mental level too: bodies can help you let our emotions and feelings out; in fact, if we store them inside without acknowledging them, our bodies will feel that. And they may even start hurting (eg. think about anxiety and how your stomach may feel bloated during an attack). Try to always acknowledge your feelings and what you go through, so to be more positive and of help to yourself. And to others too, if you need. Try to let go of stress as much as you can. And yes, I mean in that way too. Try to balance yourself more between physical and mental/soul state. You're already a blessing for everyone able to meet you, be it for yourself too.

song: back at one | brian mcknight

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pile 3

[it's gonna be a little nsfw -just the topic itself-, so up to you if you want to read it or not: I'm just leaving this here phrased in the most general way cause this reading is for everyone] You may have fears or insecurities revolving around the physical aspects of love. It could be something you don't want to deal with consciously or unconsciously (maybe cause of a trauma/fear of intimacy/self doubts...), or are afraid of cause you're unexperienced (and you may fear others' judgement). I want to remind you that it's up to you if to get there/open that door, and know that side of yours without being scared of it and understand why you're seeing it as "negative"/"dirty" (maybe because of your upbringing) or just plainly avoid that because you don't feel ready (yet/at all, maybe something happened and you need to stay away from it, that's fine as long as it doesn't hurt you -if it does, seek help please). It's okay. It's only your choice, if the case, also how you wanna experience it, when and why. Do not let anyone tell you what it is about or how you should behave/think about it ever. It's your own personal world until you willingly decide to share it with someone cause you trust them/you feel like or any other reason. Take your time. Do not let anything or anyone rush you into it. Remember that not because your friends (or this person you like) have already experienced something in that area while you haven't, you should feel any less. You're you and you're perfectly fine even if you don't want to deal with that yet/at all (no matter your age: you have time, don't worry you will never get to experience that cause of how others will see you; if someone loves you and craves you they will not care about your experience). You are lovable anyway, however you are and whatever you believe in. And you can love who you want to (this reminder esp. for the lgbtq+ people here feeling caged by others), you can try anything you want to to. Nobody can judge you or your decisions/choices or story. Just take time to know yourself, whenever you'll feel like. You're a very funny, joyful, giving, gentle and also adventurous person and it's beautiful to be with you, to spend time with you not just as lovers. You don't have to change anything unless you really feel that need (but not to please anyone else). And remember to always change at your own pace and for yourself. You can choose which kind of adventures to sail on and when/how. If someone wants to rush you into something and kinda triggers you or wants you to choose fast, it's never for your good but only theirs. Never regret saying no and choosing yourself first. Never fear being judged by someone that can wait for you and give you space and helps you, never fear being judged by yourself either (do not pick up others/society's words, they're not you). And remember others judge you only because they project their fears and false beliefs onto you, they aren't judging the real you (they can't). Let them talk and move to someone better. Move back to yourself. Lastly (not sure for who, but it came up...): never compare to those movies/actresses/actors/models, those are just society's expectations or movies indeed. IRL all is different. You're hot as you are for any lover of yours. Believe in your power, it's all about confidence in yourself (even pretended until you really believe it): that's the only trick you need to know as you're already perfect. Take a breath.

song: sometimes | ariana grande

[greentrickster]

(walks up to the microphone and leans in): Okay, so, I’ve seen a lot of Ghost King Danny (which, let’s be fair, is a fun concept, I totally get it), but I’ll see you that and raise you this: Fright Knight Vlad. The current Fright Knight himself is the Spirit of Halloween, but what if it’s like how, while Pariah Dark was the Ghost King, certain circumstances being met can make someone else the Ghost King. And this applies to members of the Ghost King’s court as well, including the Fright Knight.

And let’s say that the Fright Knight, the Ghost King’s right-hand spook, isn’t a battle-based position, but one based on what the current Ghost King most needs from a right-hand spook upon their ascension to the throne. Pariah Dark was a conqueror, so his Fright Knight was a powerful ghost skilled in battle, the Spirit of Halloween. But Danny’s not a conqueror, he doesn’t even typically seek out fights unless there’s a reason he has to. What he’d likely need most is someone who’s really good at politics, has the respect/fear of a decent amount of the Ghost Zone, and who could maybe give him some pointers on how to go about all this. Maybe teach him how to handle his powers better or something while they’re at it.

Which leads to Vlad waking up one morning and the Fright Knight’s sword (the Soul Shredder) is just… hovering over him. He doesn’t know why, his research into ghosts tends to be in regards to ways to gain power, not culture and traditions. Not to mention, he has no idea that Danny finally cracked and accepted his status as Ghost King the night before. He’s got no way (that he’s actually bothered to look at) of knowing that taking the sword is a binding agreement to accept the position and a declaration of fealty to the new monarch until such a time as he’s released from this oath.

Cue the Ghost Zone getting to watch in a combination of amusement and deep concern as their new king and what’s supposed to be his staunchest ally proceed to try and beat the stuffing out of each other in a swathe of chaos spanning Amity Park, Wisconsin, and a good chunk of the Ghost Zone. This is an unprecedented occurrence, no one’s ever accepted the position of Fright Knight without at least a vague idea of what they’re doing, and it’s certainly never been someone who’s enemies with the new monarch. The Fright Knight physically can’t try and overthrow the King, it’s part of the binding agreement accepting the sword entails, so no one who’s planning to attempt just that has ever been dumb enough to try it. Especially because it’s a job you’re stuck with either until there’s a new monarch, or the current monarch’s needs change so drastically that you’re no longer qualified for the job.

Congratulations, Vlad, you’re going to go down in history for this one.

Also, just worth noting, I do not see this going in a shippy way or anything like that. This would be a set-up for enemies-to-friends, with maybe a culmination of some good Badger Cereal (ie, platonic Danny and Vlad bonding, friendship/mentory stuff, maybe some found family if you’re feeling wild). No mental compulsions or anything going on with Vlad for this, either, it’s more along the lines of getting whacked with the Spector Deflector if he tries to use his new position against his king, and possibly it forces him to pull his punches somewhat if he gets into a physical brawl with Danny unless Danny specifically tells him to go all-out. I dunno, I don’t have all the details, I just think it would be funny as heck for Vlad to get himself stuck in a position like this and also that he’d look good in armor.

Also also, I’m a sucker for forced bonding leading to friendships and found family and stuff. And enemies-to-friends. And Badger Cereal and mentor!Vlad and Vlad being forced to be a responsible adult and domestication arcs for villains. And Vlad gaining the power he wants but in a way with all these strings attached and also he’s not actually in charge. I want this horrible man looking fine as hell as he’s dragged kicking and screaming into becoming a better person.

Oh wait, no! It’s not so much a physical compulsion or shock collar or anything like that that’s keeping Vlad in line, it’s learning that, while the Fright Knight technically could betray the Ghost King, it’s one of those actions that generally gets you hunted down by the majority of the Ghost Zone unless they really hate the monarch you’re betraying. And the denizens of the Ghost Zone may not be the biggest fans of Danny, but they like him so, so much better than Pariah Dark, and the twerp’s somehow got Clockwork backing him, so it’s probably worth keeping him around for a bit, at least for a century or two, see how things work out. So Vlad’s landed himself in a position that he can’t relinquish, it can only be taken from him in a few certain circumstances, and if he tries to overthrow or betray Danny, it’s good odds the majority of the Ghost Zone will unify to hunt him down.

Getting strong-armed into being Danny’s staunch ally on pain of ectoplasmic retribution was not how he saw this Thursday going, but b’golly if it hasn’t happened anyway. Maybe- maybe he’ll just call off work today, go grab a bottle of wine to drink while cuddling Maddie-the-Cat, staring into the distance, and asking what he, an angel, ever did to deserve this.

[bisexuallsokka]

zukka n 22 pls :)

22. a kiss in a rush of adrenaline.

"Sokka."

"I know."

"It's just that…if you don’t make it…”

"I know, Zuko."

"Sorry. You can do this. Win for me, yeah?"

Sokka spares a glance at him, seeing how he is worrying his bottom lip. Zuko meets his eyes, as if he can read Sokka's thoughts about Zuko's lips and his hands and his--

"Sokka!" Suki warns.

"Shit," Sokka curses, redirecting his attention to the television and glaring at the banana peel that his kart just ran into. "Sorry, uh, got distracted."

"Sokka just hit a banana peel," Zuko says, continuing his ongoing narration to Toph. "I think it's the one he planted during the last lap."

Toph lets out a cackle that Sokka chooses not to acknowledge, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Katara lean forward more. His palms feel sweaty. He's so close to gaining on her, he can't let Zuko down after Katara beat him in the last race. Funny, the fact that he could lose the pool of money reserved for the champion of their Mario Kart bracket doesn't seem to matter to him anymore.

"Katara is still in the lead but Sokka is catching up, they are approaching the finish line to start the final lap, they both just got a power-up..."

Sokka tunes him out as he crosses the finish line, focusing on the final lap, on beating Katara. He turns a corner, then another, then-

"Fuck," Katara mutters as she just barely misses the shortcut that Sokka takes, then she shouts, "Fuck!" when her position changes to 2nd and Sokka takes 1st. He doesn't dare let it distract him though, tries desperately to not get distracted by Zuko for once as his narration of the game gets louder from his excitement. Sokka just focuses on completing the rest of the track smoothly, dodging a shell that Katara sends his way, then-

"YES!" he and Zuko shout at the same time, Sokka jumping to his feet as Zuko chants, "He won, Sokka won!"

Suki and Aang cheer and Katara gets up to give her brother a firm congratulatory handshake and a smile that makes Sokka fearful of ever trying his luck a second time. He turns back to Zuko, finally letting himself fully bask in his smile and the way his eyes are wide and excited. He's on his feet, throwing his arms around Sokka so strongly that they nearly topple over, then Zuko is pulling back from the hug and Sokka's hands are grabbing his elbows to stop him from getting too far and he's leaning forward and-

Shocked silence falls over the room except for the music from Mario Kart and, after a few moments, Toph saying, "What?"

Zuko and Sokka are staring at each other in shock, Sokka's hands still frozen on Zuko and Zuko seeming unable or unwilling to step away.

"Uh, Sokka just kissed me," Zuko tells her. Toph cackles again.

"I did," Sokka says. It had barely been a kiss, just a peck really, but there was no denying their lips met. And he wanted it to happen again. But also... "Sorry, it was the adrenaline," he starts, but when Zuko's face falls Sokka grips his arms tighter. "Not like that! Like, I definitely wanted to kiss you, but I hadn't planned to do it just now, I was just excited and you were looking so-"

"Sokka, I will double my contribution to the money pool if you have this conversation literally anywhere else," Katara says, already going through the menu to start a new race, sounding way too unenthusiastic for someone who has been telling Sokka to make a move for months. Everyone else is still busy processing what just happened to say anything else; Aang's eyes are darting quickly between Zuko and Sokka, Suki is hiding a smile behind her hand, and Toph is smirking in their direction.

And, well, it's the push that Sokka needs as he grabs Zuko's hand and leads them toward the door to go for a walk and a conversation that has been a long time coming.

[nc-vb]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧

note -> pls accept this little Scaramouche/gn!reader blurb from last year as an apology for being bad at updating? it was part of the original version of Heartstrings, but the plot has since changed anyway, so... ya.

warnings -> none; takes place after the delusion factory chapter in Inazuma; reader is a Fatui executive under Scaramouche with a vision that can heal...

words -> 1.9k

“You…” Your hands having risen instinctively at his appearance, you swallow thickly awhile trying to come up with a not-so-suspicious greeting. “Lord Scaramouche, sir, I-I… What are you doing here, sir?”

Arms crossed, chin raised, and eyebrow cocked, “I’ll have you answer that very same question for me. What business did you have at the Grand Narukami Shrine after dealing with the Traveler?”

“Er… being in Inazuma has left me feeling more spiritually inclined than normal, sir, so… I-I’ve decided to take up on religion,” you mumble flatly, immediately inwardly cursing at yourself for spouting such a shitty lie.

“Funny. Try again.” You sigh at him.

“I’d heard once… that you had ties here in Inazuma,” you start, your tone quieter than usual. “Rather than bother you with my questions, I… initially came here to check on the Traveler’s condition, but then… I ended up… speaking with Guuji Yae, but…”

Scaramouche shuffles his hands to his hips, looking almost pleased by the idea of you being turned away. “Oh, the fox woman wouldn’t tell you?”

You shake your head. “Not exactly. When we started speaking of… other things, I decided I’d rather chance waiting for you to want to answer me, yourself, if I ever asked them. If you ever wanted to answer me.”

Scaramouche’s hard gaze seems to linger on you from beneath his hat, something that leaves you warm, cagey, and a little concerned that just maybe, he doesn’t believe your ignorance to be false, after all.

“I simply… was worried about you,” you add.

“Worried,” he parrots, sounding almost offended. “Why would I need you to worry about me?”

“If you’re suddenly seeing things as if I’m making you out as weak or as looking down on you, that’s not what’s happening here, sir.” Past him, you look to the cliffs you knew would eventually bring you to a lesser shrine but a moment after feeling the sharp crawl of electricity creep up your back. “Could we walk and talk, sir? The Electro energy the mountain channels is starting to fry the hair off my arms…”

“… fine.”

And so, you lead the way, trapped between the quiet of a promised conversation and your nerves, unable to speak and walk at the same time. It’s a surprise to you, just how patient the Balladeer is being. Perhaps in your constant busyness, with your typically need to leave your Harbinger stress-free from these menial duties, you’ve never truly noticed just how differently the man walking beside you treats you. How much more patience he has for you versus the rest of his underlings. It didn’t even have to do with you being his second-in-command, because if it were anybody else in your position, this conversation might not have gone so non-aggressively. At the very least, what’s mutual knowledge between the two of you is that your relationship has always been one of respect, and not one drowned for fear of him like the others have so easily admitted to.

Finally, having descended the rest of the mountain, now far away from the crackling and sizzling of its natural Electro pond, you lead the Balladeer to the front of the abandoned shrine, to sit at its steps and take a large breath. Scaramouche remains standing, arms at his sides, eyebrows now pinched.

“S-So… I just… recalled,” you clear your throat, eyes flitting up to meet his briefly before flying back down into your lap, “that you had a look on your face when the Tsaritsa gave the order to have us come out to Inazuma. I remember you once saying that you were from here, and I was only wanting to be prepared to help you in any way I could. And then, the next look on your face when you were given the Gnosis by Guuji Yae…”

“And so, your first choice of preparation was to go and gather intel on me from that fox envoy?” he queries.

“I-I suppose,” you murmur. “I didn’t want to overstep or… um…”

“Or what?”

“… or make you sad.” You finally look up at him, not in sudden confidence, but of the pure desire to simply look at him. As per usual, his impassiveness shines clear as day in the night air, illuminated by the lanterns glowing along the shrine’s engawa. “Lord Scaramouche, Lady Guuji Yae did not tell me of your history by my own request. Instead, she helped me reach a certain point of clarity of myself regarding you… That the reason I sought her out to speak about you was more b… because…”

“You’re burning the midnight oil, here, ______.”

You huff at him. “It’s because I’ve grown extremely fond of you,” you finally blurt. “Romantically, if that wasn’t clear. I-In other words, I believe I’ve fallen in love with you, Lord Scaramouche.”

… there is a moment of silence that leaves your heart aching. At the very least, you’d expected a retort, or a comment of disapproval for bothering him with something that might’ve seemed so trivial to a man like him, but in his wordlessness, he simply stands before you, eyes trained hard in your direction.

Throwing his foot up against one of the steps to your left, you find yourself suddenly trapped between him and the railing, the air in your chest swirling. And everything happens all too quickly – his hand finding the crown of your head to tilt it toward him; his gaze rising and falling between your widened eyes and your parted lips; his subtlety in wetting his own dried lips, tongue darting carefully past his teeth to soften them, before leaning into you and pressing them firmly against yours.

You can’t control the noise that escapes you, nor your instinct to brace yourself against your surroundings — the porch, the step beneath you, the railing, his chest — in your attempt at registering the Sixth Harbinger’s actions.

He is unmoving in them, indigo eyes half-lidded as he studies your face, your reaction to him. When he just barely moves his mouth upwards, his lower lip slotting between the two of yours, and carefully moves his hand to fall to your nape, he catches your flinch of surprise, feels your fingers tighten around the sleeves of his shirt. In pulling away, he hears your small noise of disappointment, and takes in the heat resting upon the apples of your cheeks.

“L-Lord Scaramouche,” you pant, and from the corner of your mouth, you lick away the bit of saliva that remained. Was it yours? His? He’s not sure he cares.

“What?” he says, tone accosting. “Wasn’t that the definition of the “love” that you desired from me? You and I have worked together for long enough to know that that is an undeniable impossibility, and yet you still decided that the best course of action to take would be a confession?”

“I-It’s not so simple like that!” you argue, and you push his leg off the step and stand up, now an extra foot or so taller than the man. “A confession – my confession to you – is not something so fleeting; it’s not some passing emotion I’ve suddenly started feeling because I spoke to Guuji Yae. This is something I know I’ve felt since the first days I began working for you, something I’ve tried to ignore for both our sakes, and for the longest time, it worked. I managed to be good at keeping our relationship professional.

“And you’re right— we have worked together long enough that I could feel safe in telling you my truth. All I could hope for was maybe some understanding, and in a long shot, maybe a bit of reciprocation. Either way, I’d at least have something off of my chest.” You glare down at the man, fingers twitching— “A-And just so you know, I’m going to be kissing you again after that, because speaking frankly, sir, you… are an awful kisser!” – before reaching for his shirt with them and tugging him up and toward you.

He jolts, thrown off by the height difference the staircase offered and by your sudden bravado, gripping at either railing of the shrine’s staircase. Your lips, as warm as the heat that seemed to radiate from you, as soft as he’d experienced them to be the first time he’d touched them, press against his. You can only dare in closing your eyes that he wouldn’t retaliate, but you still half-expect him to push you away and scold you, something said in his flavour of retaliation and ridicule. But his hands give rise to where your hands stretch out the material of his shirt, skinny fingers wrapping tightly around the bones of your wrists to spin you off the higher step and onto equal ground.

Pulling away from you, a smirk crawls onto his visage. “And who gave you permission to speak frankly in the first place?” he asks. You can’t tell if his tone is serious and taunting or humoured and teasing. You swallow when he leans further into you, your heart racing, his lips pausing just before your ear. “Insulting your superior officer,” he whispers to you, a dry chuckle escaping him a second later when he returns to face you. “That’ll get you places.”

Taunting and teasing, you decide shakily.

To your surprise, the Balladeer leans into you once more, his glistening, parted lips slotting between yours, hands slowly moving to take hold of your cheeks in his attempt at keeping you close. It’s sloppy, teeth clacking together at times, and a little wet, but your heart threatens to burst with joy and relief at his effort, his reciprocation being something you wouldn’t have expected him to put any into.

A hand of your own raises to take the smooth curve of his jawline into your palm. He mumbles against your murmurs, and grunts at the wet, wriggling sensation invading his mouth. Their tongue? he realizes, doing poorly to mask his shock at how pleasant he finds the feeling to be. Unpredictable as per his usual routine, he returns the gesture, his own joining with yours to swirl and dance in the space between you. The softest of moans escapes him, and he tears away from you, embarrassed and breathing sharply, his pale cheeks tinted with the softest of rouge and lips tainted by your mixture of saliva.

Your laughter is faint as you lick away the liquid gathered along your own.

“So…” Scaramouche glances at you from beneath his newly summoned hat, barely having time to recover when you’ve shot him a look unfamiliar to him—it’s startling, how warm it makes him feel; how unfocused his mind is when your gazes lock; how impossible he finds it to begin stringing words into a sentence after what he’d engaged in – dazed, your eyelids flutter on incident at him, and in that starstruck, awestruck daze, “Did any of that get me anywhere with you?”

— until these words exit your mouth, that is. Your flippant attitude was not something he’d accounted for in the aftermath, and even worse, you’d caught him in a moment of vulnerability and weakness and decided to deliver them before he could collect himself.

“Something like that,” he says, tone breathy with exasperation, his eyes having rapidly widened at you. You chuckle nervously in response, daring to reach forward and adjust his slightly tilted kasa. He turns on the spot when you’re finished, clearing his throat, and beginning the rest of your descent down from the base of Mount Yougou. “Come along, then. We’ve got work to do.”

© nc-vb/niicevibe 2022-2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[romancomicsnews]

My Adventures with Superman brings Hope back to the Man of Steel - REVIEW Ep 1 & 2

*Spoilers for the first two episodes, now streaming on Max!*

Growing up, Superman always came off to me as a very nothing character. White bread. Good for the sake of good. Not funny like Spider-Man, not dark and cool like Batman, and too powerful to be in any real danger.

He was just there as the original cape and tights. He was important because he did it first, but that didn't make him interesting.

As I got older, and I read and saw him in more media, I realized the fun of Superman comes from the kindness. The hope he brings to those around him and that stable positive force is essential to the world and the Justice League. While he is the most powerful person in the room, because of who Clark is and his values, he's the person you fear the least.

He's gonna save your cat, he's gonna stop that burning building, and he's gonna get the bad guy, as unharmed as possible.

This is where the DCEU lost me, and where I think most Superman content does. That hope, that kindness, the gentle giant that Clark is has somehow been lost in translation.

While Henry Cavill is a great actor and can play the hopeful side, setting the tone of the movies as so dark and serious drained Superman of his charm.

Superman and Lois has done a good job bringing Clark's hopefulness back in moments, but the Zack Snyder DCEU feel coupled with the CW drama still keeps Superman and Lois pretty dark and dire.

While Hoechlin is a fantastic Superman, the world he inhabits has kept me wanting a true representation of the character I love.

Which is why My Adventures with Superman is such a breath of fresh air.

Let's start with Jack Quaid. Using such a pure sounding soul like Quaid to embody Clark was a stroke of genius. While he is known for playing good-ish characters like Hughie in The Boys and Peter Parker/ The Lizard in Across the Spider-Verse, Quaid does not coast on his past charms for Clark.

This character equally feels fresh, different from Quaid's past characters, and like a kid who is transitioning into the Man of Steel.

Whether he is struggling to flirt, scold Lois for lying, or fight a robot, Clark feels genuine, kind, and strong.

As Superman, Clark does not change into a scary, super powered god. Instead, he is trying to help the bad guy, clean up the messes, and rescue kittens from trees. While we only get a glimpse of his true Superman form at the end of episode 2, it is enough for me to get so excited that I'm typing this all out. This is the Superman I've been waiting for!

Rounding out the cast are Alice Lee and Ishmel Sahid as Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen.

Lee has a quality not always perfectly emulated for Lois in my opinion, which is spunk. Moxie. She is so clearly the leader of the team for the Daily Planet. Couple that with her comedy timing and clear chemistry with Quaid, this may be the blueprint for Clark and Lois in the future.

While usually Lois is a made journalist by the time Clark shows up, starting them at equal footing is an interesting development. I'm hoping they use this to show just how quickly Lois Lane can rise the ranks against others.

While Sahid is utilized the least so far, conspiracy theorist comic relief Jimmy is equally charismatic and likable. He is a character I think the DCEU and CW didn't quite understand the value of, but this show clearly does. My hope is this character goes on to go on as wacky adventures as he does in the comics.

The chemistry between the three characters is very strong for the first couple of episodes. So much so I don't know if I'm more excited for more Lois and Clark romance, Clark and Jimmy bafoonery, or Lois and Jimmy investigating.

While the villains leave something to be desired in the first two episodes, the inclusion of overarching villains Deathstroke, Amanda Waller and General Lane lead me to believe they hope to build out this universe, at the very least into Batman.

If that is true, I am so in.

I can see a world where we have 3-4 different anime shows introducing key members of the Justice League, all leading up to an anime style movie where they fight Brainiac, with Jack Quaid's Superman at the center of it.

But perhaps I am getting way ahead of myself.

All in all, My Adventures with Superman has me excited for Fridays to come. It has heart, it has comedy, and it seems to understand the Last Son of Krypton better than most pieces of media.

This should be the blueprint for Superman Legacy.

A Superman who brings donuts for all his coworkers.

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[ranticore]

I love Ishmael and need to know more. Questions 34, 41, 55 and 56

yayyy ishmael <3 tragedy boy

34: How do they greet someone they like / love?

Cherta was his first proper beloved friend and he was never really expressive at all when it came to positive emotions (or negative emotions, except when they built up enough to be expressed physically). It was very understated, he'd just sort of sidle up to them and stick to their side like glue.

41: What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

His regular vocab came from the deep dream, it's a standardised list of words a child has to know by the time the dream ends, enough to leave them with "functional conversation skills" when they're born. This leads to a really homogenising effect on people born this way, they all seem to have the same very bland, nonspecific culture and way of speaking, though with the right support it can fade away. Ishmael learned how to swear as a young teenager from the other kids in the settlement (he would ask them specifically what dirty words they knew and would they teach them to him, as a minor act of rebellion against the very sanitised existence in the lab. The other kids often lied tho, thinking it was funny to teach him a swear word, or even slurs, without properly explaining what they meant and the gravity of using them.. he never really picked up on that). He ended up with an odd mixture of very precise, clinical language from his dream and the lab workers around him, and very coarse and childish turns of phrase from the kids he idolised a lot.

55: What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

Honestly you look at this guy and you think oh he must LOVE swimming. But he didn't really enjoy it any more than you would enjoy the basic experience standing up and walking to the other side of the room. Just pure locomotion. And his anatomy was not as suited for swimming as the phocids' was. He was pretty inefficient. This left him in an uncomfortable space where he was never good enough at swimming to keep up with the phocids, and never good enough at walking to keep up with the regular humans (though of the two, swimming was more easy for him)

56: If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

As a younger teenager he went to his therapist for comfort, though she never saw it that way. He was unresponsive during their sessions and never engaged with her all that much, so she thought he might even have been apathetic towards her. That wasn't the case; he relied on her an inordinate amount, as she was the only person in his entire world who'd ever properly spoken to him, so being around her made him feel more normal. Later, he befriended Cherta and they were the person he'd go to, and at that point he was older and more able to express himself so he treated them as another therapist at times, leant on them perhaps a bit too much for comfort, relied on them to fulfil all his emotional needs, which wasn't healthy either. They kept at it because they liked him, but it took them both a good few years before their relationship balanced out and he learned to respect their boundaries. Growing up, he was completely unaware of even the most basic concept of boundaries, because he was treated as if he had none.

[silkendandelion]

Mirage In The Desert - Chapter 1

A One Piece fanfiction, Table Of Contents

Sir Crocodile x OC (male)

Words: 70.4k

Genre: Drama, angst, smut, fluff

Summary: Keep your friends close and enemies closer. But how close do you keep a liability? In the time leading up to Operation Utopia, Crocodile employs an Alabastan local in Baroque Works.

Rated Explicit for sexual content (Chapters 1, 2, 6), moments of graphic violence and death, mentions of suicidal thoughts (8) and toxic relationship dynamics. Rating changes published per chapter.

Cross-posted to ao3, same username, here. Thank you for reading, and as always, please enjoy.

~*~

“Sir, dinner is ready. Shall I prepare the dining hall?” Crocodile looked up from his paperwork to see the servant in his doorway. He blew smoke between them, already calculating how much work he had left, and the unusually calm air of the evening.

“…It’s quiet.”

“Yes, Sir, it is.” Crocodile raised an eyebrow, and the servant scrambled to catch up to the conversation.

“Pardon me—no one has seen Mr. Faustina since breakfast. Perhaps he has gone to Oasis?”

“Doubtful, King tide is tomorrow. Serve dinner in my study. Chill the wine.”

“Yes, Sir,” They said as Crocodile arranged his papers and went for his coat.

Raindinners might have been the face of nightlife in Rainbase, but on a quiet weekday night the secluded waterways behind the property felt akin to a private island. Winding paths of water gave enrichment to the Bananawani, and a few were just narrow enough they were relatively safe for swimming. Stone overhangs and imported trees kept it shaded from the relentless sun and automatic lights were triggered by sunset to illuminate crystalline mosaic floors.

It only barely reminded him of his home island, but the saltwater swims were the most comfort River had found since coming to the city almost a year prior.

Crocodile approached the shore to see him hoist himself out of the water with toned arms, waves stuck to his dripping skin as he let the water run off him in sheets. Droplets ran down the muscles of his abdomen, clinging to his jewelry and holding his swimsuit flush to his hips. The warlord wanted to mention how much his hair has grown in only nine months but feared to break the facade they built for when others could see them; a false image River shattered whenever he did things like removing his bottoms in broad daylight while any one of the staff could come outside and see Crocodile there too, incriminating, trying to look nonchalant like a pervert would.

“I scrubbed the Bananawani. Could really use a bath,” River said as he pulled fresh bottoms up his legs. He redressed while Crocodile lit a fresh cigar, failing to look nonchalant.

“Dinner first. You’ve been out here all day, and I doubt you’ve nibbled off the Bananawani’s plates.”

“It’s funny, Coco keeps trying to share with me. I’m not sure how long I can keep pretending to accept until I hurt his feelings.”

“Just don’t be in the water when he figures it out.”

River’s laugh alerted the servants to their return, and most took great care to not be noticed watching the pair as they walked together. There were already plenty of rumors about the handsome man from Alabasta’s territory island of Oasis who came to Raindinners nine months ago. They speculated his involvement in Crocodile’s business, how it related to Oasis’ position in the tumultuous political climate, but they all knew for sure the two were involved. Crocodile’s rules of touch were absolute, yet curious eyes could sometimes catch him pushing a curl behind the other man’s ear, rest a hand on his back, or nudge his chin for a kiss—what the servants assumed would be a kiss were the pair not so quick to catch wandering eyes.

But no one scolded them this time, and anyone who walked by could see the pair waiting for the elevator, arm in arm.

In Crocodile’s suite, his guest immediately spotted the papers in piles on his desk. “I’m not the only one who spent the entire day working.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt as he popped open the wine. “Your fascination with the Bananawani can hardly be called a job when I don’t pay you. And if I was your boss, we’d have to talk about the amount of time you spend sunbathing on the clock.”

“You are my boss.”

“You’re not on the clock.”

He cleared his throat when he saw River lean over his desk, mindful to keep his wet hair away from the documents that were sorted into categories but otherwise on display.

“What? Is it a secret? I saw Mr. 2’s name, I have some right to snoop when it involves my partner. Are we being deployed soon?”

“You’ll get your briefing when they do. We’re having dinner.”

River sauntered back to the table to see him trying to look unbothered, spinning a ring on his finger and wearing what he might have called a pout if his patience wasn’t already thin. Dinner was an important ritual for them, especially when they had neither seen nor heard from each other all day long. And Crocodile didn’t care to wait at all, let alone while he watched his insouciant lover meander around his apartment like he didn’t visit every day.

“...Crocodile.”

“Hm.”

River went passed his empty chair to get into the warlord’s space, placing a knee on the chair between his legs and reaching out to begin folding back the sleeves on his dress shirt. First his good hand, then his left, and Crocodile flinched when the cold metal of his hook brushed River’s thigh like he was the one spooked by it’s chill. When River finally began undoing the cravat at his neck, he spoke.

“What are you doing?” He said quietly, a fond rumble in his chest at the way his lover dressed him down. Were they a normal couple in a less complicated life, Crocodile could easily imagine those hands taking off his shoes after work, offering a variety of comfort after hours away.

His cigar rested in the ash tray while the Oasin leaned over him with intent, eyes lidded and the soft sweeps of his neck and chest close enough to see his heartbeat. Crocodile felt his pants tighten, it would only take one hand to pull River onto his lap and hold him still while he tasted the hollows of his collarbones, he knew from experience they tasted like almonds—

“Dinner is supposed to be a relaxing activity. You look a bit high strung.” A single, playful finger gave his belt a tug.

River’s ribbing was cold water on his lust, and he pinched his smirking cheek as he finally stepped away. He finished dressing down in his room, meanwhile his lover waited patiently for the click of him removing his hook, the muted sound of it placed on it’s cabinet.

Distracted by the wine, he didn’t hear him come back, making a startled hiccup when cool lips stole a kiss from the side of his neck, jeweled hand holding his jaw.

“Eat your food,” Crocodile said in his ear, a quiet thunder that commanded obedience and sent a shiver down River’s spine. His eyes followed the hand that released his neck, and he watched Crocodile lower himself into his seat, fatigued by an invisible burden.

He looks exhausted. River thought as he sipped, finally finding his fork and pushing down questions he knew would go unanswered.

They ate in a comfortable silence despite the way River inhaled all three courses before Crocodile even finished his palette cleanser between one and two. At the risk of their manners, he poured him another glass of wine.

“I saw Goillard’s poems in your bag. Have you finished it?”

River swallowed and nearly sloshed his cup in his burst of excitement. “I finished it this morning, I couldn’t put it down. Coco got frustrated because I read too long and his brushing came late.”

“He’s needy because you spoil him.”

They talked until the sun was long gone, lounging on the parlor sofa until they ran out of wine and wandered back to the study for dessert. Dessert became, “Let me take care of you tonight”, and Crocodile pulled away from cardamom-flavored kisses to remember he was supposed to have gone back to his papers after dinner.

“Am I that bad a kisser you remembered now? Maybe I should skip a few steps.” River went to slip off his lap and onto the floor between his knees when he felt him grab his arm.

“You’re distracting. Take off your clothes.”

“I don’t think that will make me less distracting.”

Crocodile allowed the shorter man to pull at his clothes but he only got him half dressed, distracted by his lover’s broad chest. A bold tongue lapped at his nipples, leaving Crocodile painfully hard in his slacks by the time he pulled his mischief maker away by a firm hand in the roots of his hair.

“Sensitive.” River licked his lips, a satisfied grin almost muting the huff of pleasure he made when Crocodile jostled the hand that restrained him. He thought about scolding him but couldn’t find the ire, pleasantly warm and treated to the sight of River as wound up as he was, tenting his robes and squirming to be set free.

“Don’t make me wait, Crocodile, I haven’t seen you all day,” River pleaded quietly, pressing their bare chests together where they were still half dressed and growing disheveled. The warlord obliged at a cost, releasing him only when their lips met. Crocodile’s slow, thorough tasting of his tongue kept him distracted, tame enough to carry, and he tossed him onto the unmade sheets from that morning.

“I’m sorry I never made it to the bath.” River moaned when he felt teeth and a tongue sucking a mark into his neck, crowded into the pillows by his larger lover.

In rumpled sheets and docile violet eyes, Crocodile found himself helpless to a heady cloud of bergamot, starfruit, and salt. He kissed him until their tastes melded, breathing deep and holding him in his lungs until his chest ached. His wide palm swept over damp skin in greedy pulls, pressing them together until lavender marks bloomed in pairs. Teeth followed his tongue down River’s neck and into the collarbones that distracted him, leaving soothing licks to reward the whimpers that followed his teeth marks, and the whispering of their clothes finally slipping to the floor.

River never complained about any of the love bites, hopelessly soft for the way Crocodile never marked him hard enough to last more than a day, just enough he could feel his blood rise to the surface and throb against his teeth with the heartbeat in his throat and in his dick. But he was as vocal in his pleasure as he was in everything else, making demands of the warlord in that impudent, saccharine voice and being so eager to please in return.

“I want you to suck me off. Please, Crocodile, won’t you?” He squirmed and Crocodile wondered if the Oasin would even last for it, nerves already tingling, dick leaking and smearing all over his belly from his restless wiggling.

“How could I refuse such a sweet request?” He inched his thumb into River’s panting mouth just to hear his mewl, circling his tongue and already planning to ask for the favor returned.

The heat over River’s body retreated first before it came back as a tongue sliding up the underside of his cock. He gasped to the ceiling, head pressing back into the nest of pillows while the tongue meandered across his skin. He reflexively grabbed at the pillow with one hand, the other combing Crocodile’s hair out of its style while his thighs shook around his ears. The perturbed crinkle in his brow attempts to deter River’s petting but he can’t manage to look terrifying with his mouth full, and his own cock is starting to ache at the sounds they make together.

Sweet whimpering, the wet slip of Crocodile’s rhythm, and his own moans that rumble in his chest, keeping River restless under such thorough attention to every inch of him. Crocodile enjoyed his over-stimulation far too much to hold him down, more than confident in his ability to handle one man’s wiggling while he pleasured him. Neither of them ever lasted long for oral anyway, always too occupied with the pretty picture the other made, of either the islander with a sun-kissed face that only ever ended up wet and messy between his thighs, or the warlord that was never satisfied until he had every drop his lover could give.

“You always feel so good, Crocodile. Please, I—I’m gonna cum—don’t—please, I’m—Ah!” River gasped and yelped to the ceiling, the arch in his back supported by Crocodile’s palm when he came down his throat, sure that he was holding his lover’s hair too tight but unable to let go. Crocodile merely hummed and let him come down slowly, cleaning him in the silence with his tongue.

The impossibly soft swipes of his palm over River’s belly and chest were calming, soothing, hardly indicative he was already planning his rebuttal. His lower back was beginning to complain, and his left shoulder certainly wished he would right himself, but his cock still hung heavy, a deep, throbbing red from watching him come apart, and he would sooner jump in the lake than let the beauty against his pillows leave without being thoroughly enjoyed.

“We can stop here if you want. You look tired,” He rumbled, hoarse and teasing as he pressed a nip of a kiss to his hip. It might kill him, his dick would certainly perish, but he would jump in the lake or worse if only his beauty wished it.

“I’m just catching my breath, I don’t want to stop,” River said and bodily beckoned him to come closer.

“Not until you fuck me—,” Crocodile swallowed his plea by pressing their mouths flush, licking remnants of cum between them and holding him close enough to feel the aborted sounds in his own chest.

“Lay down, I can do it,” River said, eyes flittering between Crocodile’s eyes and lips.

The whispering of Crocodile’s hand removing his rings is his answer, and that strong grip returns as a fingertips depressing the meat of his thigh, pricking barely before they’re warm again.

“I will give you everything you desire... But you’ve been awfully bossy tonight. I think I’ll just enjoy you at my own pace.” Nips and kisses to River’s shoulders turn his complaints into pleasured murmurs.

“No, no, I wanted to treat you.”

Crocodile just hummed, pleased as he continued his distracted kissing. “You need only to exist and it is a treat.”

River sighed, eyelids fluttering at the sweet words spoken against his cheek. “I suppose it can’t be helped. A man with your pride would surely ignore his own aches and keep his lover distracted with poetry. I, the dutiful lover, will relent and eventually find myself hoisted onto strong thighs, our position flipped when the proud man believes I have forgotten… and I will take everything he has to give.”

He gasped when Crocodile’s hand gripped his thigh hard enough to mark and pushed his knee back to his chest.

“You’re especially mouthy tonight.”

“And you’re stubborn as always.”

A simple look commanded he grab his other knee to spread himself in offering to dark eyes. A little logistics, a little inventory, and Crocodile managed to find the new bottle of lubricant as River dutifully held back his own legs, fingers flexing in anticipation.

“I’m shaking—maybe I should roll over.” River smiled awkwardly, chewing on his lip and staring at the man between his feet.

“Do as you please for now. But I want to see your face when I’m inside you.” Crocodile watched him roll onto his stomach, smoothing his palm up his spine, careful only to touch him with clean fingers.

“Breathe in… breathe out.”

The breach of his entire middle finger was a welcome surprise if the arch of River’s spine and pleased hiccup was any indication. Too pent up to go slow but still worried for his comfort, Crocodile busied himself with crooking the tip of his finger from every angle except the one he needed, massaging him and working him open in the most cruel way. In and out, he only allowed him the faintest tease of attention to his prostate, content to bully him with self-indulgent prodding.

Beneath him, River was losing himself, panting in only minutes from just a single thick finger, hands kneading the comforter and eyes unfocused as he tried to wet his lips.

“Please, Croc, it’s so—please, anything,” He mumbled.

“Anything?” Crocodile hummed deep in his chest, unable to stop himself from leaning down and kissing the sensitive spot on his oblique.

“More of this? Shh, shh, I’m sorry. Breathe in… breathe out.” He added his ring finger, simultaneously biting the oblique under his lips to drive his keen higher.

The extra stretch had them both forgetting the pace they originally set, and a few more minutes had River on his elbows, swinging his hips back to meet Crocodile’s knuckles on every stroke. He knelt enraptured as he watched him lose his usual composure, moans hiccuping from his kiss swollen lips with every impact, eyes glassy and focused only on chasing the sparks that zipped up his spine with every brush of his prostate.

Crocodile’s dick ached, throbbing all the way to his own hole to be inside the man who struggled not to howl into his own fist. He couldn’t help but begin sucking kisses into the flushed muscles of his back, arms tensing around him as he panted into his damp shoulder blade.

“Easy, River—” I’m going to cum too soon.

“—Mm, mm, I don’t want easy, I want you. You’ve gotten quite comfortable back there.”

The yelp River gave when he pulled out his fingers, maybe too fast, sorry baby, and flipped him onto his back satisfied the part of him that was still bothered by River’s lack of fear. From the first day he came to Rainbase, the Oasin never hid he was a sarcastic, indulgent layabout that couldn’t have a single serving of wine without sleeping wherever he fell. He obeyed orders barely when he obeyed at all, telling Mr. 0 off and hanging up the snail phone to the horror of onlookers. Even at Raindinners, River’s socialite hobby was supposed to annoy him, the gambling, drinking (after his tolerance adjusted), the way he convinced the bartenders to put everything on the house tab.

But the way he lights up when Crocodile comes through the front door, abandoning his chips and dashing over has him stuck. Onlookers have gossiped for months, they know to keep their distance while River goes to his side to welcome him home.

It’s the closest Crocodile has ever come to something that resembled domesticity. He can’t give it up, and it terrifies him how much leash one man has made for himself, inch by decadent inch.

A hand toying with his dick yanks him back to the present, and he sees River waiting not-so-patiently against the pillows.

“Lost you for a minute,” He said while taking back his mischievous fingers.

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“It’s not too late to let me ride you.”

Crocodile yanked him further down the bed until they were lined up finally. River managed to secure a single pillow, knees spread wide and staring up at the predator above him with a surrender to be eaten. They butted heads most days and argued most nights but River would do anything for him, and he knew he was cherished in return. He reached out to hold Crocodile by his larger, corded shoulders, hands skittering across his strong, firm chest, and they slipped together with a harmonious sigh.

Crocodile sat up to adjust the angle, removing those wandering hands to press him flat. “Stay still, you’re awfully—oh—tight.”

He grabbed the foot tickling his rib and squeezed. “I mean it.”

Uncharacteristically, River relented, kneading the duvet he could reach, eyes shut and trying to control his breathing. But as hard as he tried to be obedient, he couldn’t stop his insides from rippling, searching for friction from the dick keeping him open.

Crocodile could only bear it for what was probably seconds, pulling back his hips until only the ruddy tip was inside before pitching forward and startling a moan out of them both. Sitting up was easier on his back and he began a faster pace than they were used to, chasing his pleasure while River moaned his praise, bound to be spoiled by Crocodile’s relentless rhythm. The latter lifted his chin to close his eyes, already anticipating watching his noisy bottom would end him too soon.

A pinch to his nipple had him fixing River with an embarrassed scowl—and that was a mistake. He watched him lick his thumb, resuming his fixation on Crocodile’s right nipple while he struggled to keep up, glassy eyes letting tears fall into his hair, and kiss-bitten mouth hanging open while he mewled his pleasure.

“Are you trying to finish this early?” Crocodile exhaled hot, hips beginning to falter in their rhythm as he moaned through gritted teeth.

“I’m not, ha... I can’t hold on, I’m trying, shit, I’m trying.”

He watched River’s jaw stutter, and his almost-purple cock was so hard and wet he leaked over his hip and onto the sheets with every throb. His whimper rose into a frustrated yell when Crocodile went to the root and stayed still, pressing them together and resting on his elbows beside River’s shoulders. Iron-hot hips slowed to a simmer as he drove them higher at half the speed, barely leaving the slippery heat before pressing even deeper.

But the danger in Crocodile’s new plan of slow and steady was that now he was in range of that mouth.

He couldn’t think with the molten tongue on his neck, and a kiss only offered a silver of reprieve. But with his brain already threatening to melt from his ears from the scalding pressure around his cock, he needed all the mercy he could get in the relentless wash that River was to his senses.

“You—oh, fuck,” He panted against the younger man’s mouth. He couldn’t finish his thought, head too foggy and hot, wanting explicitly to say ‘You’re mine’ and unable to catch his breath. Somewhere under the heat, he wondered if the words left unsaid were a blessing, unable to be proven wrong by refusing to exist. Later, when he wasn’t already rung out by a man who hadn’t left his pillows once, he’d try again to think.

“So good, feels so good, my Crocodile,” River moaned so clearly he couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear him. He declared it with a possessive swirl of his hips, pressing his legs against the arms that held him wide, and as confident as every word that came from his mouth. The suddenness of Crocodile’s release slammed into him white-hot, leaving his world soundless and too-bright long enough he wondered if he had fallen unconscious.

He forced himself back to the world of the living, if only to confirm he hadn’t crushed River under his dead weight. Beside him, the man was almost asleep, spread akimbo like the bed was his own with a shiny splatter of cum on his own chest and neck. (Crocodile made a mental note to berate himself later with the embarrassment of how that situation could have gone, perhaps with River unsatisfied and smushed beneath an out-of-practice, unbelievably rude man).

River tore him from his self-depreciation with a hand on his face, moving his hair from his eyes like his own bangs weren’t sticking to his cheeks in damp curls. He held a hot towel (When did he prepare that?) and gently coaxed them both clean. Crocodile tried to look disapproving that River cleaned him first but was distracted watching him drag a clean corner up his flushed chest, passed the beauty mark on his sternum. He touched his chin finally, and the realization he made him come hard enough to get his own face had his dick give a single, exhausted throb.

He interrupted the housekeeping to offer his chest for River’s lounging pleasure, taking the rag and tossing it to somewhere with a wet slap. Damp curls pressed under his chin as they settled together, the scent of shampoo and salt tempting him to close his eyes.

He tried to remember if he’d left any lamps on, but knew his muscles wouldn’t move unless he smelled smoke.

“Crocodile.”

“Hm.” He’s sure he turned off the one in the study but the one in the hall was unaccountable—

“Are you sure you want me to stay?”

Crocodile’s eyes flicked open to the ceiling. “Who said you’re staying?”

“You did when you brought me in for a cuddle and looked like you were halfway to sleep just now.”

“There’s your answer. Go to sleep, River.” His warlord voice had no bite in the afterglow, warm and sounding more like an annoyed lover who was yanked from their almost-sleep.

No, he definitely turned off the lamp in the hall.

River’s nails drew soft shapes on his chest in the silence. “… I’m going to the bookstore tomorrow. Do you want me to bring you something?”

His answer was a quiet shift in the warlord’s breathing that meant he would receive no answer until morning.

[meraki-yao]

thank you so much for your reply <3 i think grief is a good word to describe what i'm feeling. it might sound silly to some but the book has been one of my favourites since 2019 and the 'what could have been?' aspect of the movie's promotion devastates me bc the crew and the fans deserved more. i think im also a bit terrified of ppl moving on from rwrb to nick's other projects meanwhile i can't (and don't want to) do it, ugh it's just a mess of weird feelings and sadness and longing for something we've never had. not to mention how some people already talk about his new projects being upgrades from rwrb. that hurts me on so many levels bc henry is a complex and beautiful character, rwrb is a wonderful story and i genuinely think that even with all the changes they created something amazing.

Glad I could help <3

It's not silly at all. I'm in a similar position: if you've followed my blog you might have seen this but long story short my irl life is a bit fucked up and I was really, really depressed. (still kinda am) July and August, waiting and watching RWRB release became the happiest I've been since January 2022, and in the following months RWRB and the fandom (well, and my sister) nearly became my sole reason for hanging on. So trust me when I say I get the feeling.

I understand your fear, and I'd be lying if I say I wasn't afraid that the rwrb tag will be full of George instead of Alex and Henry, but please remember that liking something new doesn't necessarily always lead to leaving the previous fandom: I know for a fact that me and a couple of my mutuals are going do both. We're gonna be happy to watch M&G (personally not interested in the idea of you but the same applies) but we're still going to make RWRB content. M&G will be a great show but it won't have nearly the same emotional weight to me as RWRB. It's been five months, so those of us who hang around and are active are active for a good reason.

As for the comments about "upgrade", that's ridiculous and a very surface-level assessment. One of my best friends is studying to become an actress and we talk about acting often. Here's the thing: there isn't a thing called "easy" acting. Every genre of acting has its own challenges: for comedy many times you need to sacrifice your personal dignity; Sci-fi blockbusters you need to interact with nothing and make it look believable; even for things like kid shows you need to be hyperactive so the kids can focus and find it entertaining, which can be so draining. M&G is a historical thriller, TIOY is a romance, and RWRB is a rom-com. These are three different film genres, and each set out to achieve different things. For example in terms of relationships: TIOY needs to make the romance believable, RWRB needs to make the romance believe, funny, and be a fair representation of a queer relationship, and for M&G if history serves there's no "true love" relationship at all. You're right: Henry's a complex and beautiful character, and Nick clearly put all his heart into him. But you cannot take Henry's layers of grief, love, fear, and self-esteem, and say it is lesser than Geroge's cold ambition. Funnily enough, while Henry is so careful with his power as the prince, George rose to the same if not a higher level of power and abused it so badly, that it caused his assassination and downfall. A well-written character is ultimately, a human being, and there isn't truly a human being who's "easy to be". So don't listen to those haters.

I'm all ears if you still want to talk <3

[mklegends-smokescreen]

Mortal Kombat Legends: Smoke Screen

Chapter 4: Erron and Reptile

The Evening roles by in Outworld, and mercenary marksman, Erron Black shares a drink with Syzoth, nicknamed Reptile in a local bar near the marketplace.

Reptile: Ya know what's funny, Erron?

Erron: What?

Reptile: Outworlders and Earthrealmers used to be mortal enemies back then, but look at us now! Two men of completely different races, sitting in a bar, drinking together.

Erron: Yeah. I know, weird right?

Reptile: Yeah, I guess a lot changed since Kitana became Kahn.

Erron: The way I see it, Outworld is a better place than Earthrealm, that's why people should stick with their own kind.

Reptile: Hmm, you know, that's true. And I am almost a hundred percent positive, that nothing, and I mean NOTHING will go wrong.

Suddenly, Kano kicked the door down and barged in with some of his Black Dragon mercenaries, pointing they're guns at Reptile and Erron.

Kano: You guys, and by that, I mean lizard and cowboy, need to come with me.

Erron: Well, this isn't how I thought this would go, but it's all good.

Kano: You will be coming with us, whether you like it or not.

Kano pushed them out of the bar and into the street before they're vehicle.

Reptile: I walked right into that one did'nt I?

Erron: Ya think?

Reptile: We fight them now or...?

Erron: Nah, give em' a minute to get who they're dealin' with.

Kano: What are ya rambling about?

Erron: Nothin', carry on.

Kano: No, you talk, now.

Erron: What, you can't read people?

Kano: Well, you got two options. I shoot you, or you answer my question.

Reptile: He's got you there, Erron.

Erron: (sigh) We was talkin' about a book we both read. Pretty good plot, wanna hear--

Kano: No! It's alright, just sit in the trunk.

The two sit down, and they head for Kitana Kahn's palace.

Meanwhile, somewhere on the other side of the market arises a whirlwind of sand, and out of it emerge Smoke, Sub Zero, Cassie Cage, Jax and Kabal, armed with a new pair of hook swords and a guard for his leg, which helps him stand.

Sub Zero: What are we waiting for? Let's go!

Kabal: Uh, I think we need to ask around first, to see if anyone can help us out.

Jax: He's right, I can try contacting Sonya, maybe she knows something about this place.

Cassie: I'll take the lead.

Cassie leads the group towards the marketplace.

Meanwhile, Reptile and Erron Black are chained in the back of the Black Dragon truck, as they reach Kitana Kahn's palace.

Erron: Hey, Reptile, can ya melt these off?

Reptile spits out a bit of his toxic spit onto the chains, melting them off of his and Erron's hands.

Kano: Hey what's goin' on back there? Jarek, check what's goin' on back there.

Jarek, a Black Dragon rookie goes to check on Erron and Reptile.

Jarek: Boss, you asked me to check what's goin' on back here, and-

Suddenly, a gunshot is heard.

Kano: OI! The fuck was that?

A couple Black dragon members go to the trunk to find Jarek with a hole in his chest and Erron and Reptile by the door.

Erron: Howdy.

And he throw's a member at the door, busting it open. Erron and Reptile jump out and take the fight outside.

Reptile: You ready, partner?

Erron: Let's not burn daylight.

he said cocking his pistols.

They both began firing at the dragon, who started shooting toward the marketplace.

Erron: I think we need some back-up, like right now.

Meanwhile, while asking around, the ninja's and Special Forces heard gunshots and feared screaming.

Cassie: Should we check that or...

Jax, Kabal, Smoke & Sub Zero: YES!

Cassie: Ok, let's go!

They all run for the sounds of the commotion, with Cassie in the lead.

Reptile: Well, Erron, it looks like it's just us now.

The squad ran toward the commotion behind a wall close to the one where Erron and Reptile are.

Cassie asked the two: Hey, what's going on?

Erron: Black Dragon.

Jax: Where are they?

Smoke: It is unclear, they could be anywhere.

Sub Zero: No, they're close by.

Smoke: How do you know that?

An explosion explodes, while a very obvious Australian laughter can be heard.

Cassie: Well that awnsers that. Kabal, use your speed to get the civilians away from the gunfire, Sub Zero, you help Kabal by making ice walls to stop the bullets, Smoke and Jax, help me get they're attention away from the market. And you two... can you fight?

Erron: Can a humming bird sing?

Kabal started getting people and moving them out of the market, while Sub Zero is blocking the bullets being shot at him with his ice walls. Reptile and Erron are fighting off mercenaries to keep their attention away from Cassie, Jax and Smoke. Cassie is running at a Black Dragon member, jumping high and shadow kicking him, while Smoke is punching and kicking a bunch of Black Dragon members, and Jax is uppercutting some, as soon as a majority of the Black Dragon members are down, Kano tries to hide behind the truck.

Kano: Time to bring out the big guns!

he said as he called up Skarlet, a blood mage in a black and red and black outfit, and Tremor, a sentient stone creature who appears nearly human, who wears a brown cloak and iron mask, who has the power to control minerals. from boulders, to gold, to magma.

The crew struggled to keep up with Skarlet's projectiles, made from the blood of the fallen mercenaries, and Tremor's earthquake-like attacks kept knocking them off they're ballance.

Kano: Fall back! Fall back!

So they flee with the remaining mercenaries and head for Kitana Kahn's palwhile they were doing so, Reptile and Erron introduced themselves to the group, while that was happening, Kabal had his arms crossed while Reptile was talking about how Outworld hadn't caused any chaos in a long time, ever since Kitana became Kahn. Smoke noticed Kabal's anger, and asked him what is bothering him.

As Reptile and Erron introduced themselves to the group, the tension in the air began to dissipate slightly. Reptile's words carried a sense of diplomacy and a desire for peace, emphasizing Outworld's recent efforts to maintain stability under Kitana's rule. Erron, the sharpshooting cowboy, added his own perspectives, acknowledging that not all Black Dragon members shared Kano's ruthless ambitions.

While the introductions were underway, Kabal stood slightly apart from the group, his arms crossed in a display of agitation. His features were etched with a mixture of frustration and skepticism as Reptile spoke about Outworld's efforts to foster order. The memories of the invasion of Earthrealm and the subsequent chaos likely weighed heavily on Kabal's mind.

Smoke, ever observant, noticed Kabal's demeanor. As the conversation continued, Smoke approached his fellow warrior, his voice low and concerned.

Smoke: Kabal, I can see that something's bothering you. Is there something specific on your mind?

Kabal's gaze remained fixed on the ongoing conversation, his jaw clenched.

Kabal: It's hard to forget what happened, Smoke. Outworld's history with Earthrealm… it's left scars that don't just fade away.

Smoke nodded, his cloudy eyes steady.

Smoke: I understand. But it seems like Outworld is trying to move in a different direction now. Kitana Kahn is working to establish peace.

Kabal let out a frustrated breath, his tone edged with bitterness.

 Kabal: Peace? After all the lives lost, the suffering… it's not that simple. And Kano's involvement only makes it more complicated.

Smoke: I understand, you've been through a lot, Kabal. I know the past is hard to shake off, but focusing on the present might lead to a better future.

Kabal's gaze shifted, meeting Smoke's earnest expression.

Kabal: I appreciate your words, Smoke. But it's not easy to let go of the past. Concidering it was his Outworld buddies' fault i ended up like a burnt chicken nugget. I don't even want to look at this lizard.

Smoke listened attentively to Kabal's words, his empathetic gaze fixed on his fellow warrior. The pain and resentment in Kabal's voice were palpable, a reflection of the deep scars left by the past. As Kabal expressed his reluctance to even look at Reptile, Smoke nodded in understanding.

Smoke: I know, Kabal. The past can haunt us in ways we can't easily shake off, What happened to you was unjust and agonizing, and it's natural to feel anger and mistrust. But remember, Reptile seems to be genuinely trying to make amends, and Outworld itself is attempting to change.

Kabal's fists clenched involuntarily as he battled the turmoil within him.

Kabal: I get it, Smoke. I really do. But looking at Reptile, all I see is a reminder of what was taken from me.

Smoke's voice remained soothing, his words a source of solace.

Smoke: He might be a reminder of the pain, but he also represents the chance for redemption and growth. If he's sincere about Outworld's new path, maybe giving him a chance could bring you some closure.

Kabal's gaze wavered, torn between the bitterness he felt and the possibility of finding some semblance of healing.

Kabal: Closure, huh? Easier said than done.

Smoke's hand remained on Kabal's shoulder, a gesture of support.

Smoke: No one said it would be easy. But letting go of the past doesn't mean forgetting or forgiving. It's about letting yourself out from the hold it has tied you to, and falling down gives you two choices: you either stay down and let the world crumble before you, or you get up, and keep fighting to the very end.

Kabal listened to Smoke's words of advice, making him reconsider...

Kabal's gaze shifted from the ground to Smoke's earnest eyes, his internal struggle painted across his face. The weight of his history, the pain he had endured, and the burning desire for justice clashed within him. Smoke's words seemed to resonate deeply, touching a chord that had long remained dormant.

Kabal: You're right, Smoke, Fighting is something I know well. But I've been fighting for revenge, for my own demons. Maybe it's time I start fighting for something more, something greater.

Smoke's encouraging nod acknowledged Kabal's revelation.

Smoke: Sometimes, the most challenging battles are the ones we fight within ourselves. It takes strength to shift our perspective and choose a different path.

As Kabal looked back at Reptile and the others conversing, his thoughts began to evolve. He realized that his anger and thirst for vengeance had become chains that kept him trapped in a cycle of pain. If he wanted to truly move forward, he needed to release himself from those chains and embrace a new purpose.

Kabal admitted, with a more softened tone.

Kabal: I don't know if I'll ever fully forgive or forget, but I can't deny that this team, this mission, it's bigger than just me and my vendettas.

Smoke's supportive smile grew wider.

Smoke: Exactly, Kabal. We're all part of something larger now, and by letting go of the past, we can contribute to a better future. It's a chance to rewrite our stories, to find a way to heal even amidst chaos.

Kabal let out a deep breath, a mixture of tension and uncertainty escaping along with it.

Kabal: Alright, Smoke. I'll give it a shot. I'll try to see Reptile and Outworld in a new light. Who knows, maybe I'll find something worth fighting for beyond my own pain.

Erron: come on boys, we don't got time to be whistlin' up the wind. Lets find Kano, and put an end to all this.

Kabal agreed, and his voice carried a new found resolve

Kabal: You're right, Erron. We've wasted enough time, lets find Kano, and stop whatever chaos he plans causing here in Outworld, and beyond.

The band continue, with Erron and Reptile leading the way to Kitana's palace.

Meanwhile, back on Earthrealm, Johnny and Sonya's calm dialouge became a heated argument.

Sonya: Johnny, you can't just rush into Outworld without a solid plan! We have responsibilities here too!

Johnny: I get that, Sonya, but our friends are out there risking their lives. We can't just sit around and twiddle our thumbs.

Sonya: And what do you propose we do, Johnny? Jump into a portal, guns blazing, and hope for the best? We need intel, backup, a strategic approach, anything!

Johnny: I'm not saying we should be reckless, but we can't waste time either. Kano and his goons are causing chaos, and our team is in the middle of it.

Sonya: I understand that, Johnny, but our decisions have consequences. Rushing in without a plan could make things worse. We need to work together, assess the situation, and act strategically.

Johnny: I know you're right, Sonya. It's just hard for me to stand by when our friends, including our daughter are in trouble. But I trust you. Let's figure this out together.

As the argument simmered down, the two Special Forces operatives found common ground amidst their differences, and they continue they're work in Earthrealm, and they're allies there in Outworld.

[weirdbraincustard]

Have you got a good piece of advice on how to stop getting triggered by negative signs. I want to ignore them, but they are so in my face in particular when I am affirming that it makes me spiralling and sick to the stomach. Many thanks x

a huge chunk of the #loa culture teaches people to be positive 24/7 or "flip" the negative thoughts. but it's not humane to deny feeling what you actually feel in the moment.

it is important to address the physical triggers that a negative thought causes. if a thought or a feeling makes you anxious, uneasy & sick to your stomach - you need to take care of it first, soothe your body, feel your feelings, cry it out, talk to a friend, take a nap or get a snack. you cannot treat your body like a machine. since your mind and body are so deeply connected, it is important to take care of one another to take care of both hollistically. you can let physical triggers pass without it having any impact on your manifestation. your human experience of feeling has nothing to do with your experience of creating your reality with your assumptions. assume that regardless of what you feel, you always manifest your desires.

it is also very important to go to the root cause of why a negative thought triggers a certain physical reaction in you. is it a past pattern? is it doubt in the law? is it feelings of unworthiness? you have to find it and you have to show yourself compassion. more often than not, it isn't a fear about how things may unfold negatively - it is about how that would make you feel about yourself.

you have to face that fear. even in the state of failure, wreck & mess — tell yourself, "so what? i am still worthy. i am still deserving despite everything. what i face doesn't change what i truly deserve."

you need to FACE WHAT YOU FEAR from losing this manifestation. consider that the mere possibility of not having manifestation makes you feel unbalanced, agitated and spiralled. if you constantly just focus on "flipping the thought" & do not acknowledge the issue that makes you feel this way, you may end up feeling like you're gaslighting yourself. it is important to separate yourself from your manifestations in a way that they don't become the sole source of your self concept.

giving an example: lots of people ponder upon the question - "i am afraid what if i don't get my sp?"

yeah, so what? what would happen if you don't get your SP? how would that make you feel?rejected? hurt? alone? unworthy?

it is important to remember that you do not have to give anyone else more power on your mind than yourself. you are still a bad bitch, with or without your manifestation. you are still a catch. you are brilliant, kind & funny. someone else doesn't and will never define how worthy/deserving you are & how truly precious your love & energy is. give nobody the chance to make you feel lesser than the god/goddess you are.

you need to acknowledge that you would still be worthy despite having or losing the manifestation. working on solidifying your self worth & self concept as independent from what you're manifesting is the best way to feel grounded when negative circumstances show up.

taken from Corri T on YouTube, what i like to say to myself when something negative happens - "things change" - there's comfort in knowing that things will not and have never been the same all the time. everything is moving and this uneasiness will go away, these negative signs will go away, i do not have to feel powerless in the face of fear. these small signs hold no meaning or significance to me in front of how beautiful my end goal, my true manifestation is.

see the bigger picture and assure yourself that you're allowed to feel things out and that things change. they always will. keep assuming that even the most unexpected bridge of events may lead you to your desire.

[dolphin1812]

The beginning of this chapter is honestly really funny because somehow, the sentence “He had theories” inspires the same specific form of dread that Hugo seems to be calling on with that line: knowing that you’re about to hear horrible takes from someone in a position of authority in a household. In this case, his terrible ideas are about women. Reading this about 200 years after the events of the story, it’s kind of interesting to see what a bourgeois woman could and couldn’t do from the list given:

“Then his wife busies herself, grows passionately fond of handling coin, gets her fingers covered with verdigris in the process, undertakes the education of half-share tenants and the training of farmers, convokes lawyers, presides over notaries, harangues scriveners, visits limbs of the law, follows lawsuits, draws up leases, dictates contracts, feels herself the sovereign, sells, buys, regulates, promises and compromises, binds fast and annuls, yields, concedes and retrocedes, arranges, disarranges, hoards, lavishes; she commits follies, a supreme and personal delight, and that consoles her. While her husband disdains her, she has the satisfaction of ruining her husband.”

It’s quite a long list! With money, Gillenormand’s wife was able to be pretty active in her community. It was definitely a precarious position, though; the money was never hers, as she only “[felt] herself the sovereign.” All of that wealth was really M Gillenormand’s, and she only had access to it as long as he felt like allowing that. A bourgeois woman could, then, be economically active, but only as long as her husband permitted it.

I also like that we see the logic in Gillenormand’s lifestyle, even if it’s a despicable one. The sexist underpinning - with wives just needing to be “legitimate” and ruining husbands financially out of “jealousy” rather than real frustration at being stuck with a man who doesn’t care about her - is a big part of it, as that’s how he ends up with so little money (comparatively). There’s a more sympathetic political aspect as well. Gillenormand has lived through so much political change in his lifetime: first the French Revolution, then Napoleon, then the Bourbons, and now the July Monarchy. He specifically fears his property being taken away by a sudden political change because he’s seen that happen, and it makes sense that that kind of instability would lead him to prioritize his day-to-day lifestyle over saving for the future. At the same time, it’s a selfish decision. We know that he has an unmarried daughter that won’t be left with much because of his financial choices, and we’ve seen how hard it is for women to get by without husbands or other men supporting them (Fantine being the most extreme example). Given that his introduction began right after we were promised an introduction to Marius at the end of Gavroche’s chapter, we can assume they’re connected somehow, too, so his decisions may harm Marius as well. 

Then again, Gillenormand’s selfishness there isn’t surprising at this point. He’s already been rude and condescending to his daughter, and the way he “re-baptizes” his servants again emphasizes how disrespectful he can be to those around him.

[spacebatisluvd]

So, I agree with the idea that Horde Prime's behavior towards Hordak is just as bad, if not worse, than his behavior towards Catra and Glimmer. And I'm not going to come on your blog and tell you that you're 'wrong' for liking Hordak more than them, etc. But I will say this: the other reasons why we might like Catra and Glimmer more than Hordak, aside from them being attractive and relatable (which is subjective, I guess) is that they are given more screentime to develop, so there are more chances to connect with them (which is less subjective). Plus, Hordak only becomes sympathetic later, with the reveal of him being an abuse victim, and of his real motivation, much later, whereas Catra and Glimmer start out sympathetic, even if they sometimes do bad things, too. There is also the matter of how they express their emotions: even when they're being mean to Adora or about to make a really bad decision, etc., you can always see the emotions leading up to that. They cry, and they have irises/pupils/more nuanced facial expressions. Catra has breakdown. But with Hordak, his primary default emotions appear to be 1) anger and 2) nothing, until Entrapta shows up. Of course, he has other emotions before he meets her, I'm not saying he doesn't, it's just that to me, the expression of them generally comes out as looking like either anger or nothing, which is not very sympathetic to a lot of people. (For example, Catra is angry at Shadow Weaver for committing child abuse, and feels fear after the purification ritual, but Hordak undergoes the purification ritual and seemingly has no reaction to it afterward).

In terms of Horde Prime specifically... Horde Prime keeps touching Catra and Glimmer against their will, in a very specific way, which is animated so that you pay close attention to it. During this, their facial expressions are like, "Don't touch me!" The show already is very dark sometimes and covers issues like child abuse, mental illness, harmful ideas from Christianity, etc., so I think you are meant to interpret Horde Prime as sexually harassing two vulnerable young women and getting away with it for the time being because he is in a position of power.

(You don't have to answer this, obviously. And I sympathize with Hordak somewhat, in addition to sympathizing with Catra and Glimmer. To me, it's not that he isn't abused, OR that people who don't sympathize are misinterpreting. It just has to do with the order in which events are presented to us, and the way that the characters react/express emotion when something happens to them, among other things).

The funny thing, Anon, is that you’re doing a very good job of proving my point.

I think the show could have done a much better job of building sympathy for the clones and for Hordak. The way the show presents these things is very much meant to make a viewer scared for Catra/Glimmer rather than to build sympathy for Hordak and the clones. That’s my problem—I think they could have easily done both, rather than ignoring one for the other.

It’s kind of upsetting to me that the nonhuman characters aren’t afforded the same care and empathy in the writing as the human (or more human-looking) characters. Especially when you also consider that less human-looking, “ugly”, and/or reptilian characters are always the bad guys in the show. It’s an unfortunately common practice in fantasy media that I find upsetting for a variety of reasons. It has some Unfortunate Implications to say the least, particularly when presented uncritically as it is in the show.

I think your interpretation was the intended interpretation and that’s my main criticism of the writing—for season 5 in particular. You’ve done an excellent job laying out how the way those scenes are presented changes the way a viewer feels about the scenes and the characters.

However…I am going to point out that we do see Hordak cry when he realizes Entrapta is “dead”. And his screams during the actual purification ritual are horrifying. Go rewatch it, if you don’t believe me.

I will also very politely invite you to understand that having a flat affect—Hordak’s lack of visible emotions, even in the face of some truly horrifying situations—is (or can be) a sign neurodivergence. Many people in real life will present in the same way. Just because you can’t see someone’s feelings on their face, that doesn’t mean they aren’t experiencing them. In fact, considering how much time we all spend interacting from behind a screen, I’d say being able to understand the way someone is feeling, even if you can’t see their expression, is becoming a more important skill for all of us to develop.

But…on re-reading your ask, I’m guessing you’re here because of that recent ask about the comic, and not because of my tirade about how Wrong Hordak’s pain is treated as a joke within the narrative, which is the typical source of these sorts of asks. I think you may have accidentally stepped into a well-trodden argument over on my blog. So maybe you’re not aware of my stance on all this.

In any case, you don’t need to explain anything, Anon. As I said in that ask, the characters folk fixate on will vary and will vary for different reasons. My criticisms of the show do not extend to folks who find other characters more sympathetic—your preferences are your preferences, and that’s fine. So long as everyone is respectful of everyone else—and you have been—I really don’t have an issue with anyone.

However, if I said something that made you feel bad about your preferences or like you needed to justify them, then I am sorry for that. That reply was meant more to give the other Anon some support and remind them that they can dip into some Hordak-focused content in our pool if they needed that extra bit of fandom support. (Sometimes fandoms can feel a bit isolating if you spend a lot of time away from folks who share your focus, and I think that’s part of why Anon needed to vent.)

I have a rather formal style of speaking, especially when replying to strangers, so I can see how my reply to that original Anon may have seemed critical of other folks’ preferences. That was not my intention and I do apologize if that was the impression I left you with.

[glitchy7734]

-Stan Marsh Head Canons-

Favourite time of year

Stan's favourite time of year is the transition period between winter and spring. He enjoys seeing the days grow longer and the sun appear more - seeing the odd new flower bloom under the snow.

2. Does he read? What's his favourite book?

Stan doesn't really read much. If he reads anything at all, it's comic books. But he definitely tried reading some Edgar Allen Poe during his goth phase.

3. Favourite way to waste time

Stan's favourite way to waste time would be listening to music, laying in bed and just allowing time to pass him by.

4. Favourite type of music

Influenced by his hatred for his father and the metal band he was in when he was a kid, Stan's favourite type of music is metal or rock. One of his favourite bands is Korn.

5. Hobbies

Stan's hobbies just include writing songs and listening to music if that counts. His depression makes it difficult for him to try new things and stay committed to them. Also, I don't take him for a very sporty person.

6. Happiest memory

Stan's happiest memory is when he, Kyle and Kenny all turned Cartman into a ginger while he slept. It was funny, knowing how he would react in the morning. It also gave Stan a chance to get back at Cartman for everything he had done.

7. Most embarrassing moment

It would definitely be when he first threw up on Wendy. The fact that he had only just come to terms with his massive crush on her didn't help either. Poor guy cried in his room all weekend.

8. A best friend moment

Him and Kyle bleached streaks in Stan's hair because of impulsive thoughts one school day. Kyle put it in Stan's hair and nearly put it in his eyes. This was at 2am on a Wednesday.

9. Blemishes or scars

He has a small 2cm scar above his left eyebrow from when he contracted vaginitis. It left a scar similar to a chicken pox scar. Has a scar on his abdomen, slightly below his belly button - he can't remember how he got them. Also, he has a few scars on his forearms - from his tween years and from when he was overwhelmed by developing hormones.

10. Biggest fear

Stan's biggest fear is abandonment. He thinks of the ones closest to him leaving him and that really scares him. This leads to him being protective and overthink every action he makes.

11. Good luck charm

A friendship bracelet Kyle gave him is both his most prized possession and his good luck charm. It's made of small wooden beads, changing between red and blue, with a single silver bead on it.

12. How he hugs

Very awkward. Mostly just leaning his head on a shoulder or chest, with a single arm wrapped around them. It's not that he's not a hugger, he just has a hard time feeling fully comfortable with someone.

13. How he sleeps

Tosses and turns a lot. If he doesn't, means he's really exhausted. Starts off with seeping on one side but ends up with laying on his back in a starfish position.

14. How does he express love?

Platonically - acts of service. He'll let someone know he cares about them by offering to help them with anything he can. Romantically - quality time. Stan will spend as much time as he can with his S/O, from small hangout sessions to planned dates. This will all include small moments of physical touch like holding hands.

15. A skill he'd love to have

To be able to draw. He thinks it'd be really cool to be able to draw whatever he wants from his imagination. He'd definitely draw his superhero persona - Toolshed - as if he was a Marvel comic hero.

16. His spirit animal

Stan feels like he resonates with sloths on a spiritual level. Doesn't know why, maybe because he always feels sluggish and moves like them. He also thinks they look pretty cool.

17. Hogwarts house

He would be in Gryffindor despite his own insecurities.

[trashikin]

hi! In imw I can’t imagine Vader has very many “tasks” assigned to him on his own ship besides leading, like he’s not the admiral, he reads reports to stay informed but I feel like the reason he works 20 hour days is because he’s supervising the navy’s operations right? Like he doesn’t “have” to, the navy wouldn’t grind to a halt without him (and his underlings are probably too terrified to slack off in his absence) so all this lead me to thinking if Vader is suddenly less intensely watching everybody and breathing down their necks because he’s preoccupied with Luke, do you think the officers on his ship know and are grateful? Like there aware Luke is the thing keeping Vader’s attention off them and the reason they can go about their jobs without getting killed for messing up so Luke starts noticing people smiling or saluting him when he walks past and his escort gets to tease him “Lord Vader spent three hours in his quarters yeserday and came back in a great mood, and we all have you to thank” either not noticing or politely not commenting on how red Luke is.

This is a super funny mental image, poor Luke. Let's talk about how the crew feels about Luke and Vader!

Vader is canonically, and paradoxically, a very good boss who inspires a lot of loyalty in his troops! So long as you aren't high ranking and don't repeatedly fuck up, he's one of the better Imperials to work under. Unless the Force is doing something screwy, Palpatine is ordering something, or (in canon) Luke is involved, he's pretty damn competent. It's a nice change for the rank and file compared to working under admirals and moffs who got their positions largely through nepotism.

That doesn't mean everyone is having a good time, and it certainly doesn't mean anyone is safe from Vader's pissbaby temper tantrums. But in general people are probably more relaxed under his command than in a lot of other's. Tarkin, for instance, is totally a fear-based boss.

Now, as for how they feel about Luke...

It's a mixed bag, as Luke mused awhile back. He's very good at winning people over and has made a few friendly acquaintances (he hesitates to consider Imperials "friends"). But Alderaan supporting the Rebellion is a bit of an open secret. There's no hard proof, but lots of suspicion. And if there's one thing hardcore Imperials love, it's an acceptable target.

A lot of the Executor crew hate Luke for almost certainly being a Rebel. They just don't do anything about it because being Vader's also grants him a good degree of protection. People stupid enough to mess with Vader's things don't last long.

That doesn't mean that no one will ever try anything, though.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Returning your ask! From the psychology OC ask game, pick one or two that you haven't already bren asked for either Sydari or Teldryn 💙

There was a colossal ask here that had so many of the topics! So let's see what's fun... Oh here's a perfect one for what I've been trying to get across for Teldryn and a few nice ones for both of them because I've made them really sad recently. Answering for both because I'm working out a dynamic. A lot of this is waffling so I'll throw it under a cut. Finally getting through these. :D

SELF-CONTROL– How easy is it for them to perform a new task well? If they want something, how hard is it for them to wait?

Sydari was always good at stealing, she's really good at picking locks and can break through most of them pretty quickly. She had to learn, just like everyone else but she's just really good with her hands. She learnt archery from Niruin and that took some time but she's doing pretty well at it now and she's been getting better at hand-to-hand and using blades. She's allowed Teldryn to show her a few things but he's far too impatient to really teach her effectively. It's not that she's bad at it, she's fine, he just doesn't have the focus to actually give direction.

Sydari has more patience in general than Teldryn, she's used to waiting, she doesn't like it but she can deal with the mental discomfort. There are exceptions however, if she really, really wants something then all patience is thrown out the window. This sudden single focus can be equally positive and destructive depending on what it is and who's involved.

Teldryn doesn't like not being good at things. If he's not good at it the first or second go then he'll give up altogether, unless he thinks it'll make him look cool... he thinks playing the lute will do that but he just can't figure it out. He was fantastic at swordplay, always was so when he actually sought out a proper teacher (he'd had some instruction as a kid but most of what he learnt was designed for heavy infantry... he likes to be light on his feet), he took to it instantly and focused on getting really, really good at that. It was a good thing for him to focus on too, kept his mind occupied, kept Nerevar quiet. He wants to keep him quiet.

He doesn't do well with waiting. Waiting lets him ruminate and he shouldn't be given the chance to do that. Sure it passes the time but he won't remember what he was waiting for if he's allowed to think. Weirdly there's one thing he thinks he wants but he's yet to act on it, fear usually doesn't prevent his impatience. Usually, it leads to him acting irrationally and doing something stupid. Maybe it's not fear that's doing it. Maybe it's his indecisiveness, he hates being unsure.

HUMOR– Do they know how to diffuse tension appropriately, or do they make things worse? Do they let themselves have fun?

Sydari likes funny people, and she prefers to make things light-hearted herself. She'll try to steer conversations away from hard or sad topics if she can get away with it. She's not amazing at landing jokes but she'll playfully jab and tease those she likes. The more she does it, the more she likes you.

She likes to have fun. Usually, that fun is at someone else's expense. At the moment it's Moden Veleth and his guard rotations that she's been lightly messing with. She hid one of his timetables and then specifically messed with when exactly the guard rotation changed. She um...needed to make sure no one would be patrolling through the town for at least 15 minutes whilst Glover switched some shipment information. The guild has a steady flow of ebony profits thanks to this stunt. It wasn't even her idea, though ideas man lacks the foresight to plan this kind of thing outside of "Hey what if we took shit from the mine!" It was a great idea when given some thought. They made the mistake of involving Emberbrand Wine, and a few of the abandoned buildings caught alight...She found it funny. Couldn't stop laughing the whole time! Laughed all the way to the Bulwark, laughed at Veleth's disappointed face. Laughed until the sun came up then laughed at the fact that Teldryn had to stay in gaol for the next 5 days whilst she got off essentially scot-free.

Teldryn uses humour as a way to divert attention away from his perceivable failures. He's highly sarcastic and probably would describe it as his first language (he knows 3, but he won't tell you about it). He likes to do stupid shit, and he likes to razz people up. He does tend to go too far with it, particularly when he just doesn't read the room.

He first introduced himself to Sydari with a joke about his fees. Which he said with a very serious voice (because he thought that would be funny). He didn't take into account that it was late, like really late and she'd been on a boat for two days. You see he knows this, he's made that journey too many times to count but he didn't think about that. He just thought maybe he could convince the girl to let him tag along. She seemed like she was going to do something. He thought if he turned on the charm she'd be sure to hire him... He didn't even get to a pitch. She just thought he was drunk... he was. He comes up with his winning ideas in the period between buzzed and passed out (he doesn't). He thinks it's endearing. Sydari did eventually listen to his idea because it was brilliant. He's not sure how she worked out the logistics but he got a lot of free wine out of it! And he even cleaned up a few of those old, dilapidated Imperial buildings that have been decaying since Red Mountain erupted. He did great, Veleth should be thankful. That could have caught actual fire ages ago! It was totally controlled and he doesn't deserve to stay in that hole for 5 days sans any lockpicks.

He doesn't like being left to his thoughts.

LEARNING– What are they interesting in learning about, if anything? What hobbies and skills do they have? Do they know how to make themselves happy?

Sydari has put a lot of focus into her literacy recently, she spent so long ignoring it. She still has the instinct to hide that small fact about herself from others. Only a handful of people really know about it and those are the ones who are helping her out with it. She's doing quite well. It's not as if she was completely illiterate, she just didn't get a lot of formal schooling. She left with the basics of Cyrodilic, she knows that alphabet. She just... she never got all that far. Her handwriting leaves a lot to be desired.

She had been just fine with leaving well enough alone. It's not as if low literacy is all that uncommon in Skyrim. She just had a string of really bad luck that lead to her completely losing her voice for a few months, it came back but there's permanent damage. She had to write in order to really communicate and she just had to be in the presence of Enthir for most of that recovery time. It was fine.

She's trying to get through a chapter of a book per night...and write in a journal. She's been better at reading every night, she thinks writing in a journal is a bit boring. Right now she's getting through The Real Barenziah, she thinks it's more fun than the official biography. She likes the idea of a noble slumming it as a thief, she did use to imagine herself as the true heir to some noble family in Morrowind. Ridiculous fantasies really, she knows where she came from, it's nothing to write home about.

What she really wants to learn is Dunmeris, she can speak the Windhelm dialect but no one ever taught her to read it. She has a very old note that she wants to have translated. But she's afraid of what it says. It could say anything! She's built it up over the decades in her head, was it some sort of affirmation? Helpful information? A name? She has no idea. Quite frankly she's embarrassed by the fact that she can't read it. It makes her feel lesser. She's considered asking Geldis to help her out with it. He wouldn't make fun of her over it. He's translated notes for her before. She'd ask Teldryn but she once asked him to help her out with some swordplay and it...he's not up for teaching. Plus she's pretty sure he thinks she knows how to read it. He keeps leaving Dunmeris language books on her nightstand, one with stars on the cover.

Teldryn really, really wants to be good at the lute. He thinks it'll make him look cool. Those bards in the taverns get a lot of positive attention and to be honest he's a bit jealous. It's hard to get anyone into bed when you don't actually show your face. Raven Rock is a bit dry all things considered. He wants to play the lute.

He sucks at the lute. He can never remember proper chord progression so he noodles. He'll start actually playing a song and BAM! He missed that last note, nope he's missed another! Now he's lost his place and...oh ok now the lute is snapped in half and thrown against the wall...it's a little bit crispy. Thank goodness most of Severin Manor is made out of mud-brick, he'd probably have caused way more structural damage in his frustration. No his room is just scorch marks and Sydari won't get them fixed. Something about not being his maid. She doesn't even HAVE maids! Teldryn doesn't actually buy his instruments, all this carnage is from instruments he's "borrowed". He was given one as a gift once, it lasted two weeks. Pity, it was a nice lute.

No Teldryn doesn't like having to work at something. If he's not brilliant straight off the bat then he doesn't want to do it. He's good at swordplay, so he focused on that for a while. He's really, really good at it. Sometimes when he's in a good mood he'll run drills on himself, for hours. It's the only time Nerevar really shuts up. He's good at swordplay, but he can't for the life of him teach anyone else what he knows. Sydari asked him for some pointers once, but he failed at that. He just can't get his point across, it's not her, she was fine. He just didn't know what to say.

He wants to be good at the lute.

[barbarosgirl]

🎭🌌🌊🤝 for all your ocs :)

full list here

Well, this one is gonna be long considering you ask about all of my babies, and I have a lot of them <3

🎭 What is the one thing your OC regrets most? Would they undo it, considering how their life turned out?

Arthur- He's realistic person, he regrets things but knows if he'd redo them (if possible) it would lead to different fucked up scenarios. But the one thing he'll regret for rest of his life was how little time did he have with his lover at the navy.

Edith- The regrets she has are not her own, rather her dumb husband's (Henry's). She regrets he ever brought up the drug deal, she regrets he didn't come back home to her.

Maggie- She regrets the choices she was forced on, what to do, who to kill. Despite thinking and acting for herself brought her nothing but misfortune, she doesn't regret that.

Eugene- His whole childhood is one big regret, even tho he couldn't do anything to change it. Beside that, he regrets leaving Vito, but sometimes you gotta let people go :)

Natalie- So many regrets and redoes she'd love to do, especially when it comes to her family dynamics and what her father wants for her/what she wants for herself. Perhaps if she'd stay away from Empire Bay as her mother begged her to, she'd have less regrets.

🌌 If your OC has a nightmare, what’s it most likely about?

Arthur- Not nightmares, more like sad dreams of What if's and he always wakes into shitty mood after them (tho he's always in shitty mood)

Edith- Always reoccuring patern of nightmares- either Henry's messed up body she had to identify and bury, her daughter getting hurt because of her, or Vinci's people finding her to finish the job

Maggie- She has mostly dreamless nights, but one nightmare does occur once in a while- her family dead by her feet because of her.

Eugene- His.goddamned.father. His whole fucked up family actually, those pricks are his worth nightmares, even worse since they are not dead and constantly hanging over his head with possibility of finding him.

Natalie- There's no nightmares for her, thankfully. The only incident that used to haunt her, she turned around to own it

🌊 Has your OC ever seen the ocean? If not, do they want to? What do they think of it?

Arthur- Too many times and didn't exactly hate it, wasn't keen on it either. From his navy time he has ptsd so ocean now only brings back bad memories and he'd rather watch lake (at least he can be fishing there)

Edith- She came to America like most immigrants on ship, but she was very little so she doesn't remember it. Between her job, family and religious duties she had little time to see the ocean. And when she had the time, her fear of getting discovered prevented her from leaving her house.

Maggie- Before she settled down with Joe, she used to travel a lot. Seeing the endless horizon was her favourite part of any assigment, so she loves the ocean.

Eugene- Seen the ocean and like most of things, he doesn't have negative or positive feelings. He doesn't understand why anybody would be keen staying at beach, watch the ocean, swim or sunbathe. Tho it'd be pretty funny to see him all dressed up at beach with good old Vito :)

Natalie- Her dream was to travel the world, but it changed thanks to the trauma she went through, in the end she never saw ocean and never thought of going to see it, she's pretty happy with the life she made for herself at Empire Bay

🤝 Does your OC have someone they want at their side when they are scared? Who?

Arthur- He doesn't really get scared, but if he'd have to pick someone, he'd go for his SO. (That would be his deceased boyfriend or Henry later on)

Edith- She feels safe with Vito by her side, as Henr can no longer fulfill that job

Maggie- Pretty fearless woman, but she'd lie if she'd say Joe's presence doesn't soothe her nerves

Eugene- Always his mother, before his life was turned upside down he was total mama's boy

Natalie- Her sister, they have each other's backs always <3