#it gets better from here promise

[yuutasprincess]

Day 1: Yuuta Okkotsu

Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: Noncon, breaking and entering, primal play, Yuuta's sweet but also male manipulating you

The doors are locked, of course they are- every night you make sure to twist the knob. You hold your breath, making sure the faint noise from your phone is muted and all that exists within the house is the sound of your heart pumping in your chest.

There’s a pause, silence. The door is locked, nothing is inside the house except you.

Outside, the street lamps cast their glow across the deserted yard, blocking any view of the desolate neighborhood. There's no one in sight, and the only sounds are the rhythmic chirping of crickets and the periodic rustling of leaves. It's a typical night, with the neighborhood slowly succumbing to darkness as the clock strikes 10. Curtains are drawn, windows are sealed shut, and doors are locked to keep whatever resides out.

Inside the house his shoulders sag. Back pressed to the locked door, how he got inside is no one’s business but his. He stays still for a frozen moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the dark as he watches shadows dance.

No one is outside. The man has found his home for the night.

Yuuta stands tall, lips sealed, he simply watches, taking in all the details of your home: the unfolded blankets on the couch, dishes drying in the sink, and the pair of shoes carelessly tossed by the entrance where he now stands. He thinks it’s a lovely home, he’s never been inside. His chest swells with an odd sense of contentment as he continues to stand motionless, he is inside your house.

The grip of paranoia keeps you awake, your body tightly tucked under the blankets, phone clutched to your chest. Your eyes refuse to shut, and you anxiously await the appearance of a ghost in the doorway. You tell yourself it's just your imagination, but then you hear it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing from downstairs.

Then it’s rushed footsteps, heavy, pounding footsteps and the sound of someone crashing into your walls and shaking the house. You swallow your fear and force yourself out of bed, stumbling into the closet and grasping anything that could be used as a weapon. 

He can’t contain himself any longer, his cheeks round and lips pulled as he smiles while marching up your stairs. Yuuta’s far from discreet, his ragged breaths and the slam of your bedroom door echoing, the weight of the doorknob creating a hole in the wall from the force. He’s practically panting in the doorway, hair clinging to his forehead, he raises a thumb to the corner of his tilted lips.

“Anyone home?”

He laughs to himself, flushed cheeks and crinkled eyes unsettling as he makes his way to your bed. He flings the blankets aside, crawling onto the warm spot where your body lay just moments ago, its imprint still visible in the mattress. 

"I know you're here," Yuuta whispers into the oppressive silence of the room. He digs his face into your pillows, fingers gripping the material as he sniffs loudly. It's disgusting, the way his eyes roll into his skull and how his hips stutter into your bed at your smell.

The only thing keeping you from screaming is the hand you’ve slapped over your mouth, fingers curling into the skin of your cheek as you watch with bated breath. He makes a mess of your bed, tossing your blankets to the floor and rising with a heavy thud as he runs his hands through his hair. You think you might get to laugh about this in a couple years when telling the story, some creep who broke in but didn’t do anything except lay in your bed. 

With knees tucked to your chest you watch him move around the space, fingers tapped rhythmically against various surfaces as he avoids the closet. Your own trembling fingers hover over your phone, help on speed dial, while you clench your teeth, jaw tight, trying to suppress your tears.

Then, silence.

Suddenly, you’re being pulled out of the closet, leaving your phone behind, as his hand firmly covers yours over your mouth. His other hand cradled the back of your head, and for a horrifying moment, you imagined him crushing your skull. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gaze at him, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, hair falling across his face.

He breathes heavy, hot air fanning your face. “There you are pretty girl,” he’s practically cooing at you while you cry.

You're terrified, not sure what he wants but not willing to let him do whatever he plans. Clawing and kicking, you fought to break free from his grasp, letting out sobs as you bolted out of the room. Your feet slid across the floor, thighs burning as you raced down the stairs, taking each step two at a time. He pursued you, eerily silent, and although you couldn't hear him, you could feel his presence, his fingers brushing against the back of your shirt, and his lunging attempts to grab you.

He follows you quietly through the house while you stumble and push things aside trying to reach the front door. Your body slamming into the wall as you cry out twisting the knob.

It’s locked. Of course it’s locked, you lock the door every night. You make sure of it. 

Thoughts finally enter your mind as you try to push towards the kitchen, the rack of knives practically reassuring you. He grabs you, not too tight but effective in keeping your arms pinned to your sides. He pressed his body against yours, wedging you between him and the door, gently shushing your cries. His chin resting on your head as you pleaded with him, promising not to reveal his face, not to tell anyone, begging for your life.

He tosses you over his shoulder with ease, hands gripping the meat of your thighs as he grins over his shoulder watching you wail. “I’m not going to hurt you sweet girl, you’ll feel real good in a second.” gripping your ankles he keeps you from kicking at him, the shaky hits against his back doing little to nothing to deter him.

Laying you onto the couch he’s quick to rest his weight over you, knee between your thighs and hands keeping your arms against your head. “Cute” his nose runs up the column of your throat, inhaling your scent and licking at a sensitive spot under your jaw. His touch is dirty, goosebumps rising on your skin as he kisses at your neck and bites the skin softly, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you anxious.

Releasing his grip on you, he rises to his knees, his gaze fixed firmly upon your heaving form. “Don’t move alright? I don’t want to have to force you still.” His eyes never leave you, jaw tight while glaring through fat tears, stomach churning as you watch the way his thick fingers idly tug at his belt.

In that moment, your instincts kick into high gear—fight or flight takes over. Your body scrambles to break free, and you manage to slip your legs out from under him, delivering a hard kick to his side before bolting away. Hands grabbing ornamental decoration on the table and sending glass shattering his way. Your mind races ahead of your body as you reach for the kitchen door, hand instinctively finding the knife left on the counter. Shaky fingers gripping the heavy handle as you glance back to see him rising from the couch with a frown before you’re out the door.

In the dimly lit room, Yuuta's laughter fills the doorway. He stands there, one hand on his hip, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he casually runs his fingers through his hair. His belt dangles from his free hand as he watches you, the thrill of having you apparent in his eyes. A chase wasn't what he had in mind for tonight, but he can't resist the allure of your determination and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Tonight, he decides to play along.

The treeline at the end of the block is a promising escape route. Your plan is to cut straight through the woods, finding your way to the main road where you can seek help. The only thing preventing you from pounding on a neighbor's door for help is the unsettling sight of those piercing blue eyes fixed upon you from your own front lawn. He's playing with you, casually biting the end of his thumb, watching you like a predator stalking its prey.

Determined, you rush into the woods, heart pounding as you leave behind any trace of him. You slow your pace to a brisk walk, inhaling the crisp air to soothe your burning lungs and alleviate the ache in your thighs. Feet numb as the lack of shoes settles into your brain, keep going- don’t stop. “Fuck. fuck!” The watery curses under your breath is all you can do to resolve the blood boiling anger you feel as you step over dirt. 

To Yuuta, you’re the most darling thing he’s ever seen. The way you clutch the knife like a lifeline and attempt to muffle your breath, straining to hear his movements, is utterly endearing. He could just eat you up. He bites at the skin around his fingernails, eyes unblinking as he watches you start to speed up and waits for an opportunity to have you. As if he can wait.

In the blink of an eye, he materializes at the corner of your vision, deftly disarming you before you tumble into the unforgiving soil. The sensation of sticky leaves and portrusing roots beneath you sends a shiver down your spine, you clench your fists. “What the fuck do you want!” You try to roll over to stand but his converse nudge at your side to force you onto your back. Legs moving so his shoes are on either side of your hips while he toys with his belt. 

He doesn’t answer you this time. Only pushes a thumb under the button of his pants with one hand and lets the material slip down, fingers pulling the elastic of his boxers before reaching in and pulling his leaking cock out. You don’t look. Hold your breath and turn your head with shut eyes as you choke on your own cries. Yuuta moves his shoe up to tap at your wet cheek softly, coaxing you into looking at him with the threat of a swift kick to your face. He’d never hurt you, but you don’t know that. 

With watery eyes you watch him wrap his fingers around himself, the tip an angry red as he starts to slowly jack off on top of you, teeth tugging at his lower lip while he whines. Giving himself a couple of torturous pumps he teases his slit, thumbing at the pearly beads of precum before squatting down to bring it to your lips. His thumb tapping on your sealed lips before forcing you to taste him, it’s salty. 

Yuuta's smile remains intact as he observes your reactions, an effortless "Good girl" slipping from his lips as you suddenly whip your head back, pulling his thumb away from your tongue. The look of infatuation in his eyes never wavers, not even when you desperately attempt to kick his feet away from your hips, or when you unleash a barrage of curses and screams until your throat burns raw. And most definitely not as you lie there, utterly helpless, with his belt securely fastened around your wrists, restricting them above your head.

Picking up the knife he knocked away from you he runs a finger over the dull end before pointing the tip at your collar. “Such a smart girl, my smart girl you really had me worried with this” dragging the knife under your night shirt he sucks his teeth and makes quick work of tearing the material to reveal your soft chest. Tossing the knife aside he falls to his knees and straddles your waist, one hand massaging your tit and other curving to fondle his heavy balls. He whines desperately over your cries, fingers pinching at your nipple until it’s hard and moving to the other one. 

Goosebumps spread over your clenching stomach, body trying to sink into the ground away from his touch. “You’re so beautiful, so soft.” Yuuta's hand falls from his aching cock, fingers skimming the cold skin of your abdomen until they brush the edge of your sleep shorts to pull them down. Flipping you onto your stomach with your face in the dirt he adjusts your hips up. 

Legs moving to keep yours spread as he rubs at the back of your thighs, pressing a soft kiss to the end of your spine he brushes a hand over your mound, fingers skimming your lips to feel your wetness. “Please- please” he coos at your shaky voice, hearts practically in his eyes as he sinks a finger into your heat, “I’ll give you just what you need pretty girl” Yuuta moans at your warmth, exposed cock twitching as he watches your cunt swallow his finger. 

He fingers you eagerly, breath labored as he hears the way you sniffle and bite back a moan of your own. Easing another finger into your warmth his free hand rubs circles into your hip, body hunched over to continue kissing along the expanse of your back. Yuuta fights the urge to rut against your thigh, forearm tensing as he pulls his fingers away to rub at your neglected clit. Tight circles making you writhe in the dirt as he pinches at your bundle of nerves. “So pretty, keep making those noises- my pretty girl.” 

Straightening up he admires you for a second, body pliable and dirt sticking to your cheek. God, he can’t get enough of you. The sound of fabric is all you can hear, heart beating quickly before a warmth hits your back. Yuuta fixes his jacket to cover your naked upper half, the chill of your skin urging him to provide you some comfort in a sick way. 

Pushing your hair to the side his body rests over yours, cock smearing precum against your thigh as he presses wet kisses at your nape, “So, so good for me.” Thumbing at your puffy lips he collects your arousal on his fingers before wrapping a fist around his cock and bringing to tip to kiss your cunt. 

His actions scramble your thoughts, the gentleness that he treats you with while partaking in rough actions makes your head pound. A heavy sigh leaves you when he starts to roll his hips into your cunt. He’s big. Careful as he whispers candy in your ear- his sweet girl, taking him so well. Your eyes burn with a sudden dryness as tears are unwilling to form, fuck, he feels so good inside you. Kisses searing as he rubs down your spine, his jacket and the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix keeping you warm in the dead of night.

Yuuta doesn’t even try to stop the whines bubbling in his chest, lips parted to exhale and lick at his lower lip, eye’s never leaving the way his hips meet your ass and the pretty arch he keeps your back in. It’s addictive, the way your pussy keeps sucking him back in, warm walls clenching down on him and squelching lewdly when he tries to pull out only to bully his way back in. Sweet noises leaving your lax body, hair hiding your face but he can only imagine how hot your cheek would be if he cupped your face in his palms.

“Oh- you’re so good to me, c’mere pretty girl” reaching for the knife tossed inches away he slices up, cutting the tight hold his belt had you locked in and pulls out to flip you onto your back. His jacket keeps your skin from touching the dirt as he shivers at the feeling of cold air hitting him, fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your lips pucker.

The kiss is gentle, lips hovering above yours as his soaked cock rests on your stomach, hand cradling your cheek as he hums into the one sided kiss. “Please princess, one kiss and I’ll take you home,” He’s so evil, moaning deeply when you entertain him, tongue slipping into your mouth and eyes rolling until there’s a dull ache behind his lids.

Keeping good on his promise he forces himself back in his pants, hands moving to slip his jacket onto your naked form before picking you up, arms around your back and under your knees as he runs his nose against your hairline, inhaling deeply. “Let me fuck you in your own bed princess- I’ll be so good to you.”

The walk back is silent. As silent as the neighborhood. The only sound your thumping heart and racing thoughts as you let him carry you home.

[creating-by-starlight]

Me, every time anyone says anything about "waiting for The One God has for you"/romantic soulmates/etc: Stop, stop, stop! Why are we implying that everyone has a soulmate when everyone does not have a soulmate? God's going to get nasty letters saying "Where's my soulmate? Why haven't I found my soulmate?" and do you want Him to have to deal with that? I don't think so! Stop spouting heresy being so silly!

[hauntingofhouses]

We all already know Mizu and Akemi are narrative foils. But you know what? Lemme just say it, here's what I think:

Taigen and Mikio are foils.

Not necessarily to each other as individuals in the way that Mizu and Akemi juxtapose each other, but mostly in the contrast between their relationships with Mizu.

I've covered specific parallels between Taigen and Mikio in other posts I wrote; but as the number of parallels I'm noticing between them keeps piling up, I'm compelled to just compile them all in one post. So! This is, thus, the post in question.

First of all, let's look at their similarities.

1. Their status in society is the same. They are both samurai who lost their honour and have dreams of reclaiming it.

2. They are also both diligent as they strive to achieve this goal, they both care deeply about their work, but here as they begin to contrast, as the work in question and way they go about their goals is different:

For Mikio, his work is in taming and rearing horses; in order to prove himself, he must tame Kai—a willful and strong horse—and present it to his lord. For Taigen, his work is in sword fighting and martial arts; in order to prove himself, he must kill Mizu—a willful and strong swordsman—and present her dead body to his lord.

In the parallel above, not only are Taigen and Mikio contrasting each other, but Mizu and Kai are placed in comparison as well. And of course, Kai is Mizu's horse, and represents her. Which is why, when later, Mikio sells Kai off, it represents the way he is tossing Mizu (and their relationship) aside.

From there, the rest of the details of their character begin to contrast and juxtapose each other more clearly. So let's look at those differences, shall we?

Their backstory:

Mikio was a great samurai who was banished. A somebody to a nobody. Taigen was a fisherman’s son who rose to the top. A nobody to a somebody.

2. The first time we meet them on-screen:

Mikio is an adult. An older man. Mizu's superior in age. He is Mizu's to-be husband. A love interest. Taigen is a child. A young boy. Mizu's peer in age. He is Mizu's bully. An antagonist.

3. Their maturity and growth:

Mikio is mature, but stuck in his ways. Taigen is immature, but capable of changing and learning.

4. Their overall attitude:

Mikio is generally relaxed, easy-going and unfussy. Taigen is uptight, irritable and severe.

5. How they talk to and conduct themselves around Mizu:

Mikio is aloof, soft-spoken, and serious. Taigen is obnoxious, brash, and sarcastic. Mikio is quiet, speaking only when spoken to, even when Mizu turns to smile at him and shows openness to be near him. Taigen is loud, talking while others are silent, even when Mizu turns from him and shows no interest in conversing with him.

Mikio doesn't show much of who he is to Mizu throughout their marriage, despite their growing affection. Taigen openly shares his traumas and life story to Mizu during their brief alliance, despite their mutual antagonism.

6. Their external vs internal selves:

Mikio is calm, gentle, and considerate on the outside. Taigen is hot-headed, rude, and selfish on the outside. Mikio is cowardly and deceitful on the inside. Taigen is brave and loyal to a fault on the inside. Mikio tells Mizu that he wants to know and see all of her. But he scorns and betrays her, the woman he loves. Taigen tells Mizu that he wants to duel and kill him. But he endures torture to not betray him, the man he hates.

9. Their hair, a symbol of their honour:

Mikio's topknot is untied by Mizu during their spar. This humiliation occurs in private, the two of them alone in a rural location where no one can see them. Taigen's topknot is cut off by Mizu during their duel. This humiliation occurs in public, the two of them being watched by many others in the Shindo Dojo.

10. Their power dynamic with Mizu:

Mikio believes he is Mizu's mentor. He teaches her to throw knives, how to ride and care for horses, and about the tactical benefits of using a naginata. Taigen believes he is Mizu's equal. He views Mizu as a samurai like himself who received all the same teachings he did, and who possesses the same values.

11. Their perceptions of Mizu:

Mikio sees Mizu's feminine side first. He sees her as sweet and gentle, but also clumsy and incompetent. Taigen sees Mizu's masculine side first. He sees her as terrifying and deadly, but also strong and skilled.

12. The way they approach sparring with Mizu:

Mikio only spars with Mizu once. As the fight progresses and she is beating him, he tries to put a stop to it. When she teases/provokes him, he starts taking the fight personally and seriously, finding no enjoyment in it. Taigen spars and brawls with Mizu all the time. No matter how many times Mizu beats him, he doesn't back down. When Mizu challenges him with a chopstick, he is eager to compete with her and gladly rises up to the challenge.

Mikio and Mizu's one and only spar is a friendly match; Mizu is smiling and having fun while he grows increasingly frustrated. Taigen and Mizu's last-seen spar is a playful wrestling match; both him and Mizu are having fun and laughing.

Mikio cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, so he scorns her and walks off, avoiding her thereafter. When Taigen cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, he follows her to observe her moves and continues training in hopes to eventually beat her. After being bested by Mizu once, Mikio leaves her and sells the horse he'd previously gifted to her. After many times losing to Mizu and fighting alongside her, Taigen commends her and admits she is better than him.

13. When Mizu pins them down in a friendly spar:

Mikio sees Mizu's whole face objectively. Taigen stares at Mizu's mouth and eyes.

Mikio gets angry when she kisses him, throwing her off of him and snapping at her, calling her a monster. Taigen gets aroused, apologising, so she pulls herself off of him.

14. Mizu's blue meteorite sword is a reflection of her soul. She believes most are undeserving to face it, let alone hold it. And on that note:

Mikio is the first person (chronologically) that Mizu fights against using her sword. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) that Mizu fights against with her sword. Mikio is the first person (chronologically) to ever hold her sword, as she passes it to him, letting him wield it. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) to ever hold her sword, as she passes out, and he picks it up and carries it for her.

15. Then, last but not least, in Fowler's fortress, when she is drugged and in pain, she hears Ringo's voice in the dungeon. She then follows it to an open cell:

Mizu first sees Mikio as a hallucination, the sight of him haunting her and causing her to lose her grip on reality. Her eyes glow a surreal blue to represent this. Her Mama appears then and says Mizu's name accusingly.

Mizu then sees Taigen, but he is real, the sight of him a relief and grounding her back to reality. Her eyes return to their normal blue colour to represent this. Taigen looks at Mizu weakly and says her name softly.

Then, later, when facing Fowler, her revenge awaiting her, she instead chooses to follow her conscience (represented by Ringo's voice in her mind), putting aside her vengeance for a time, in order to save Taigen.

So that's basically all the ones I've noticed so far, but even then, I feel there's already so much that forms a contrast between these two.

What makes it especially incredible about these juxtapositions is that Mikio was Mizu's husband, the man she had fallen in love with, the one person she had ever been intimate with, the man who made her begin to accept herself, to put down her desire for vengeance and instead live a life of peace and happiness.

So for Taigen to have so many parallels with him... Do you see what I'm saying here!

Not to mention that Mizu clearly already has some burgeoning attraction to him, as indicated by how she thinks of him when asked about her desires. And Taigen clearly has shown interest as well (see: him getting a boner after their spar, him holding her hand and telling her, "We're not done yet.").

And on the topic of speculating future possibilities of this relationship, this post by @stromblessed has pointed out yet another parallel between Taigen and Mikio:

Mizu promises Taigen to meet him for their duel in autumn. Mizu fell in love with Mikio and duelled him during autumn.

With all that said, I do believe Mizu and Taigen's relationship is definitely hurtling towards something. But whether they will actually end up together in a sustainable relationship and have a happily ever after? Well, that is a whole other story; we'll just have to wait and see.

[mo-ok]

A little over halfway there, heres every hero I've met so far

❤️💙💛 a very brief and deeply serious word about every season 🩷🖤💚

( x x x x x x x x x )

Denziman: Scooby Doo but the dog is kind of an asshole 10/10 tits out Kenji Ohba

Goggle V: the most standard, normal sentai you will ever watch 10/10 lemme just red ruby beam that for u real quick

Dynaman: YUME WO KANAETE 🧨 DYNAMAAAAAAAAN 10/10 im fully convinced the black clone technique is just a thing Junichi Haruta can do

Bioman: this show is about ONE THING and thats MIKA JUN YABUKI 10/10 sexual lady saturday

Changeman: im not ok thanks for asking 10/10 im eating glass over this show

Flashman: OOF. OUCH. OUGH. 10/10 this one hurts

Liveman: OOF. OUCH. OUGH. 10/10 friends how could you

Fiveman: anyone that says this is the worst one hasnt actually watched it 10/10 sibling teachers save me. Save me sibling teachers

Dairanger: best suits in the franchise 10/10 dont let his baby face fool you that boy is ripped AND shredded

Kakuranger: 30th anniversery ending dance 10/10 silly ninja show is very very good actually

Carranger: red racer x Zonnette otp otp otp 10/10 let your kids play outside or else they'll become cops

Megaranger: they were just kids man they shouldnt have had to deal with all that 10/10 show me the silly man in the shiny jacket please

Gingaman: you know what? Maybe i WILL throw myself on the ground and lie in the sun for a while 10/10 kuro kishi Hyuuga

GoGoV: Matoi is there have you met Matoi he's a wanker bastard and i love him 10/10 killing the dad with hammers

Gaoranger: if you wanna feel like sentai is being beamed directly into ur brain watch this one 10/10 oh my god. Oh my god.

Hurricaneger: this one is a BL in disguise 10/10 Yousuke x Ikkou 4eva

Magiranger: some of the best monster and mech designs in the franchise 10/10 i love this magical family with my whole heart

Boukenger: my go to recommendation tbh 10/10 adventure for treasure boukenger START UP 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

Gekiranger: KEEP MOVING. DONT MAKE ME STOP. 10/10 if you want plot and character progression watch this one

Go-Onger: now THIS is super sentai 1000000/10 you should watch rpm as well. Watching both increases the enjoyment 1000%

Kyoryuger: dancing dinosaurs. Very good. You agree 10/10 otp confirmed after 10 year wait

ToQger: OOF. OUCH. OUGH. 10/10 just watch it dont look anything up just watch it

Zyuohger: most misunderstood and overhated season tbh 10/10 the characters are meant to be like that. Its kinda the central theme of the show. Stop being mean to Misao

Kyuranger: my first sentai 🥰 10/10 houou soldier is a change dragon reference

Kiramager: if Boukenger doesnt catch ur fancy this one would also be a good place to start 10/10 i'll take outdated meme for 100 thanks Grant

King Ohger: in a word? Ambitious. 10/10 you can go to the quarry. As a treat.

Boonboomger: TBD ❤️💙🩷🖤🧡💜

[skuaclan]

Aftermath.

[crossdressingdeath]

I am once again begging people to realize that Ivenci does not in fact want to "make Antiva better", that's not why they want the Crows gone. This is someone who straight up let Treviso get occupied by the Antaam who fuck up every city they occupy (and tbh it is actually insane to me that a mage let the Antaam occupy their city after the atrocities in Ventus, which must have happened before the Antaam took Treviso because occupied Ventus is referenced in Eight Little Talons which happens before Antiva is invaded; it says a lot that Ivenci thought that was a good idea). They tried to gas the city with qamek (again, insane thing for a mage specifically to be doing after Ventus, these experienced writers did that on purpose) to remove the Crows and their supporters yes but also anyone who spoke out against the occupation too loudly. Guys, please, Ivenci wants power. We are repeatedly told and shown that they want power. They'd rather destroy the minds of half the city and give those remaining to the Antaam than not have power. Their immediate response to being told they'll be put on trial—with the knowledge of the king and merchant princes, so even if we assume the Crows don't have the legal right to do that they fully intend to cover their bases on that front—for all that treason it is at this point well documented they've been committing is "You can't do that to me, I'm the governor of this city". Them saying the Crows are bad does not mean they're right because they could not more clearly think the Crows are bad because they're getting in their way specifically.

They're not even right about why the Crows are bad; first and easiest the stuff about the Crows murdering people in the street is just straight up nonsense, there is literally nothing in any other game or this one suggesting they do that, they kill people they are hired to kill (and because they're so expensive those targets are extremely unlikely to include random people on the street) and claiming they're as bad as the Antaam (who we do see dragging people away during the first visit to Treviso) is ridiculous. And second... I've said this many times, but defending Antiva is literally the Crows' job. If the people of Treviso or Rook (or Ivenci, although they wouldn't for obvious reasons) went to the king and asked for help to free Treviso, the king would send them straight back to the Crows because defending Antiva is their duty and they do it proudly and as well as they can. Keeping Ivenci in the loop is the limit of what they're really required to do, and frankly given Ivenci is a) incredibly rude, b) wildly suspicious and c) entirely useless it's really more than they deserve, someone please replace this person with a competent governor who actually wants to help their people. Also no I won't ever be over them standing around doing nothing except insisting Crows Bad right outside the field hospital the Crows set up and are fighting to defend from the Antaam in blighted Treviso. This is where everyone involved in this situation who claims to care for Treviso should be putting their money where their mouths are and it is telling and pointed that the Crows do at great personal cost—the Crow casualties dying of blight and getting warped into monsters that the other Crows with Rook's aid have to put down so they aren't suffering and can't hurt anyone was deliberate, can people stop acting like the Crows are totally fine and untouched in blighted Treviso—and Ivenci and the Butcher don't, that was a deliberate storytelling choice and I would like people to stop ignoring it.

Ivenci is not insisting the Crows should stay out of it because it's not their job and they're overstepping; they're saying it because it is the Crows' job and they are interfering with Ivenci's plans, which is in fact evidence of the Crows working as intended in their role as Antiva's defenders (which does make the argument that Ivenci's right about the Crows being bad for Antiva somewhat ironic, given they're walking proof of the Crows being pretty good at their role even while being actively sabotaged and before anyone suggests Rook's doing all the work I'm saying right now that that's not the case, the Crows are clearly doing a lot when Rook's not around, and if you claim it is because we don't see them doing it you'd better be claiming that literally every faction is completely worthless because that argument does not apply to just the Crows). I am begging people to use their critical thinking skills, people saying things you agree with in broad terms and people being right are two entirely different things.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[vickyvicarious]

3. cold hands in warm hands Jonathan+Quincey

6 October, morning.

"I shall not wait for any opportunity," Quincey said fiercely. "When I see the box I shall open it and destroy the monster, though there were a thousand men looking on, and if I am to be wiped out for it the next moment!"

Almost before he had finished speaking, Harker stepped up to him and reached out to clasp his hand. His grip was strong, his eyes blazing, and in that moment a solemn promise was agreed upon between the two of them without a single word spoken. They were in agreement: neither of them would let any chance slip by. This Count would die at their hands, no matter the cost.

It was no longer any real surprise at this point, but Quincey still found himself thinking it again: there's the man who made it out of that castle.

After Van Helsing finished speaking, all the men turned to disperse. Quincey stood behind for a moment or two, lost in thought. He had less to arrange than the others. Watching over Art after his father and fiancee's death, he'd taken a notion - and then an afternoon - to update his own will. He hadn't known exactly why, then. The musing over where the blood had gone had reminded him of the Pampas, sure, but he hadn't truly expected anything like what was to come. He'd just seen all Arthur had to deal with, and thought to smooth the path back home should the unexpected come to pass.

For all that everything had changed in the past few days, not much about his affairs would stand any different now. The only exception, perhaps, was the man whose oath he now shared, and that excellent, kind lady to which he was married. Perhaps he should add a proviso for their sake as well.

Thinking of the couple got Quincey's feet moving, and he quickly moved down the hallway. He caught up just before Harker stepped back into his own room, calling out to him.

"Might I have a word before you go?"

"Of course, Mr. Morris. What can I do for you?" He turned away from the door, his hand slipping off the handle.

"Pardon me for this, but," Quincey said, reaching out to grasp that hand before it fell to the man's side, "it's more yourself."

"I... don't understand," Harker said, his tone mildly confused. He didn't pull his hand away, but Quincey noticed him sliding a foot back an inch, firming his back to the wall. He looked straight up into Quincey's eyes.

"I couldn't help but notice," Quincey said. He reached up to fold both his palms around Harker's hand, squeezing a little. Hopefully sharing a bit of warmth.

Harker's hand was ice-cold between his fingers. He knew he ran a little hotter than most, but still he'd noticed the chill the moment they'd touched. Harker's face was pale, his eyes fierce but tired, all color washed out of his hair. For the past three days, he'd been moving about as if there was lightning running down his spine; a deep well of crackling energy barely hidden within his body, and rising almost to the surface whenever talk turned to their foe. Quincey respected it like anything. And yet...

"I apologize if I'm poking my nose where it isn't wanted. But I'd like to suggest you take it easy, today. Join your wife in her rest." Quincey rubbed the hand between his a little, drawing Harker's gaze and attention down to the point of contact between them. "We'll need all our strength when the time comes."

There was a long pause before Harker spoke.

"Thank you," he said, very quietly, eyes still on Quincey's hands. He looked back up again before going on: "I will try to keep that in mind."

His eyes were cold, too. Not heartless, just the opposite - all the heart within him set so firmly on his goal that everything else froze over. A deadly storm, just waiting to break loose, an intention sharp as a knife. Quincey felt a little hint of that lightning slip between them, settling against his own spine.

He let go, confident that Harker understood. The man might need a reminder or two in the days to come, but he'd make it through without collapsing prematurely. He'd do what it took to be there at the end, and he'd be ready when it came.

"That was all," Quincey said, stepping back. He nodded with a smile, and Harker smiled back. It was a small enough one, but that it was there at all was probably enough.

He headed off further down the hall, but didn't go right to his own room. He'd add the Harkers in, sure enough, but the worst eventualities could wait a little longer. First, he'd like to do something to help them before that day. They'd be heading out in the morning; that gave him an afternoon to find what he needed.

After it was all over, Mrs. Harker would probably want to write up their stories again. He'd seen that typewriter of hers, and surely there was something in London better-suited to bring along. And her husband... well, perhaps he could use a pair of gloves.

.

5 November, evening.

Harker wasn't wearing his gloves. Quincey had seen him wearing them when he set out with Art, so he didn't know why not today. Maybe he, too, had gotten hot during the headlong chase.

He must have, Quincey decided, because his ungloved hands felt so warm. He could feel one behind his head, supporting him, and one was reaching down over his own hand, pressing hard into his side.

It hurt. It hurt like nothing he'd ever felt, but Quincey didn't mind. Because he was cold, and getting colder. It was funny how the blood against his hand felt so hot, when his hand itself was trembling from the cold. Maybe it wasn't that Harker's hand was warm, but just his own that was cold.

Mrs. Harker's hand was warm, too. So warm around his other hand, and her eyes were welling up with tears, but full of life as well, for the first time in so long. He smiled to comfort her before the end came.

But it was all right. Wracked with shivers as he was, he didn't mind. The cost was paid. They'd agreed on that, and if anyone had to pay it, better he than...

It was good Harker wasn't wearing his gloves. The fabric would be clean later, not stained with the blood leaking out around both their fingers no matter how hand they pressed on the wound. Clean like Mrs. Harker's forehead, smooth and unblemished. Thank God. Thank God, that was truly a gift to see!

"I am only too happy to have been of any service! Oh, God!" he cried, shoving himself upright, pulling his hand away from Harker's to point to her. The wind bit at his exposed fingers, and he felt so cold, but it was okay. It was worth it to show them, in his last moments, now that the end had truly come. "It was worth for this to die!"

[lamoureg]

chapter 1/2 of my new jayvik fic is out!!!! if u want viktor taking care of jayce + character studies this is for you!!!

[shanklin]

I got a little inspiration for that little "Ford kidnapping Shellfishies" bit. The rescue team is decided now!

“Sooo, you and Shermie are gonna distract them, them you and me…” Bruno stopped his whispers to other Stans when he saw it.

A little crab. That waved his little claws at them and… winked?

Bruno blinked and turned around just in time to notice… a possum? In glasses? That screeched and threw a bucket into Old Ford’s head? Did that bucket smirk too and giggle while hitting?

Anyway, Old Ford went down, and Bruno took an opportunity to jump to him and start searching him and…

“What is happening… OUCH!” the other lab guy screamed when the little crab pinched his ankles.

“Guys! I got back from the store… WHAT THE HELL?!” there was another old man’s voice and Bruno steeled himself in preparation for attack, turning and…

Another old Ford? But no, that one wasn't Ford, and that meant…

Old Stan sighed and rubbed his face.

“Don’t tell me, Sixer, that THAT is what you meant by righting the wrongs…”

Bruno felt his pants tugged. He looked down and saw the possum in glasses pawing at him and whining.

“He likes you”, Shermie cooed from his Stan’s arms.

The little crab waved his claws. The bucket now was on his back. It definitely was smirking.

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

Reading list to understand whats going on:

All of Little Selfish Cleaner Shrimp by @emiliens

And this kidnapping

And Shankford 1 2 3

And you also need to know that I headcanon Bruno-Stan-Little-Selfish-Cleaner-Shrimp's Shanklin to be a cursed Ford which is the origin of Shankford

And actually this whole damn AU. This is basically just a Selfish Shellfish Avengers meet up

NOW THAT WE ARE ALL CAUGHT UP

to quote other lab guy

WHAT IS HAPPENING???

I just know Stan was holding pizza boxes when he ran into this chaos.

Turns out every Selfish Shellfish AU AU can be solved by throwing McBucket at the next evil guy near you.

And don't think I've forgotten that Bruno is still missing his own Shanklin!

Ford deserved the bucket attack!

Shanklin is probably planning his own rescue mission, only to find Bruno cozying up with a different cursed Ford possum 😡!

And poor old Stan having to constantly deal with Ford overcompensating for his past mistakes.

Just imagine, kidnapping all the Selfish Shellfishies not even making the top ten dumbest shit Ford pulled in an attempt to "redeem" himself and right his wrongs.

Stan is getting to old for this.

[headfullof-ideas]

Some more headcanon-drawings…things…i have doodles

I actually had these done for a while now, just…never posted them. Idk why. Im trying to get some drawing done today, though for whichever project it’s for, I don’t know

[xavalav]

explodes forever and ever as i think abt dnd session from tonight. we beefed it so hard and now my freak is having a mental breakdown.

[itscuntingseason]

i know that wotakoi is a slice of life/episodic-style story but goddd i would've killed for flashbacks/insight on narumi's teen years. what was she like when she first started hiding her otaku identity after her first heartbreak? what were her relationships like?? how did she connect with her boyfriends? what were her friendships like? did she not tell her friends about her hobbies bc she was afraid they'd judge her? or were they just not into it? it would give so much insight on why her relationship with hirotaka and her friendships with koyanagi and kabakura (especially koyanagi) matter so much to her. especially the heartbreak would, maybe, explain why narumi is so hesitant to admit her feelings for hirotaka.

[rxttenfish]

Thanks for opening my eyes to Miravi as a ship, it’s one I never would’ve even thought of but once I started thinking about it… yeah. Yeah!!!! It makes so much sense! Two tropey girls, a tragic princess and her conflicted knight in shining armour! I can’t help it, I’m a sucker for that…. (this might be why I always play as Vicky in MP…. because when I romance Miri my queen…. the polaroid is them as a knight and a princess….)

I love how you characterise them a bunch. I love that they can be two dorks together. Two nerds who love talking to and listening to each other. Two people who can heal together. Happy times for the both of them <33

thanks!! i still recall that this ship came mostly by accident to me, and honestly it was a damn fortunate accident at that because they work AMAZINGLY together. i really do like picking ships by virtue of personality and how well those personalities would mesh together, and don't like ships where that isn't directly considered, which, to be fair, i did at first think the two would probably dislike or hate each other! but i ended up thinking about it more and how the two might actually interact, and, honestly? the way they come off to me has always been that, if they can just get over that initial hump, they're WONDERFUL for each other.

i just like the way they parallel each other. both clinging to what they were told they are for their entire lives, something given to them by family and whom they had little choice in, but which they threw themselves into with a passion simply because they had nothing else they thought they could be. both with nasty, tangled histories, upholding systems which exist to eat the world and themselves simply serving as the last victims of it, neither able to fully question their role in it due to how much has been invested, how much would be lost if they had to put it aside. both with ringing alarm bells of psychological distress of all of this, that they cannot hear because they were never taught they were alarm bells, seeking out something that's close enough to what they were told they're supposed to be but without the teeth, without the fear, without the alarm bells. both rejected by their own systems by virtue of some flaw that isn't really a flaw, a fault that has marked them as unable to live up to their own myths. both only really able to come to any terms about all of this when they have other people, people who aren't a part of that system, people who they can depend on and trust, to start pointing it out and offering alternatives.

it's good! i like when two characters' journeys are really one journey, one path together, when they're in the same boat and just haven't realized it yet. i like it when they realize it, when they can finally start talking about it, finding solidarity in, yeah, actually, this IS bullshit, and why would someone do that to them. i like it when they're a conversation with each other, a mirror through which the other can be dismantled and picked apart and seen for what it is, when both act to lay the other out plain, when only the both of them can see the other for who they truly are.

and i like when it gives characters that are all high octane and presence and tension, just some downtime together. i like it when they can finally take off all that they drape themselves in, and just sit there together, vulnerable and exposed. i like how much they talk and have to say to each other, but i like how much they don't talk to each other as well, how much they can just exist in the silence together because the words aren't necessary. i like it when two characters being vulnerable with each other first feels like strangulation, and then, release.

[yaoipologist]

sorry for the hot take post incoming but the absolute poisoning of trans discourse on this website into constant arguments about binaries is so disheartening. it is genuinely unproductive to constantly sort people into strict binaries related to gender and get mad when people of all sorts find those binaries reductive and limiting for any sort of theory or conversation. i have never seen an argument that genuinely benefits from doing this. it will always be more complicated than that. and that's okay! it just means that we have to keep it in mind and stop reducing gendered groups to simple equations, because it never works.

[dragon-oasis-game]

Back with some visual tests to improve the dragon's glows