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silverwhittlingknife · 29 days

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How would you describe Tim's people skills? Especially when you compare them to Dick's?

Hi anon, this was a fun ask!! I picked out a few panels for each of them (comforting friends, a bit out of sync with friends, fighting with friends, and offering practical support to friends) just to get a quick look at their people skills in action, and then I rambled on about my thoughts on their strengths and their weaknesses.

(Caveat: I'm going to try to focus on my ideas about differences between the two of them, since we're comparing, but I do think they're socially more similar than not, so you might also want to check out @bitimdrake's post on Dick and Tim's similarities for the big picture!)

Short version: I think they've both got good people skills. Dick's are a bit better and more natural, whereas Tim's are more practiced and learned (in ways that sometimes show).

Let's start with Dick first, and then I'll get back to Tim.

Dick

Comforting friends in Titans Secret Files:

Dick: Will you go back in there and sit down? This is my house. You don't need to clean up after me! Donna: I know, I just... I just ... Dick: Hey, hey... what's the matter? Donna: Nothing. It's nothing. Dick (reaching out to supportively grip her shoulders): Donna, this is me here, remember?

A bit out of sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Titans 3:

Dick: The movie runs 98 minutes. So if we fast-forward past the coming attractions and watch only half the credits, I can still make it back to Blüdhaven in time to - Roy: Nightwing, chill. Team morale demands that you relax and enjoy yourself.

Fighting with friends in Titans 13:

Dick: We haven't used it much, Changeling. But that's gonna be different. Starting right now. Our performance against Tartarus and the HIVE was unacceptable. Each and every one of you should thank God you weren't killed. Kory: How dare you? How can you just stand there talking to us like we're a military detachment -

Giving support to relative strangers in Nightwing 87:

Neighbor 1: Oh, he - he's a true gentleman, you know? Always holds the door, or helps me up the stairs with my groceries if we both come in at the same time... Neighbor 2: ...used his motorcycle to jumpstart my car one morning and even got my brother-in-law a job with Wayne Enterprises when he got laid off... Neighbor 3: ...and he's very, very, very nice and doesn't talk down to me. Plus he lets me use his basketball.

Offering practical support (making dinner) in Prodigal:

Tim: I can't believe you can actually cook... Dick: I like to eat. Tim: So does Bruce - but he had to order Chinese last night. Dick: That's where I'm one up on him - I've lived on my own without an Alfred. Still miss him, though... He was good for a lot more than cooking and cleaning. Tim: Yeah. But at least we don't have to miss him on empty stomachs.

Strengths:

I think Dick's people skills are pretty simple: he has them! He's good at people! And I tend to think of Dick's people skills as so automatic they're mostly instinctive. It's not something he really has to think about because it's so ingrained in him. A combination of natural talent plus a childhood spent around sociable performers means Dick's just really highly attuned to the people around him.

And I don't think he's particularly obvious about it. So e.g. you could be having a conversation with Dick where he didn't seem like he was paying close attention, but if there was An Important Moment where you got anxious for a moment or let something important slip or let a bit of anger show through etc. - Dick will have picked up on it, even if it's unconsciously, and it'll stick with him and come back to him later.

And just generally - I think Dick has good instincts for who he can trust and who he shouldn't trust; when he's treading on conversational landmines he'll often pick up the unease even if he doesn't have the context to know why there's a problem; if he's trying to comfort and trusts his instincts he'll often do the right thing even if he can't justify in words why he felt like that was the right thing to do.

So I think for Dick, there's always the level of conscious awareness - the things he's aware he knows, if you will - and the level of unconscious awareness - things he senses, but maybe can't explain, or maybe doesn't want to know so he's suppressing the thoughts.

So he's good at leading, and he's good at comforting, and he's good at listening, and he's good at figuring out the right thing to say...

Like, he's good at all of it, so it's actually sort of difficult to elaborate because there's just not that much nuance? Given any particular interpersonal situation, Dick has an excellent chance of getting a quick read on some random guy he's just met and then getting the reaction he wants pretty fast, whether it's intimidating the guy or comforting him or getting him to cooperate or taunting him until he loses his temper, etc etc etc.

Obviously Dick's not a mind reader, and he can get things wrong, especially when he's in the throes of one of his own personal crises, but generally I think Dick's very very sure-footed with people, even with strangers.

Weaknesses:

This isn't a weakness precisely because Dick's usually doing it on purpose, but he'll sometimes have fights with his friends because they think he's acting overly professional/detached and he thinks they're not being professional enough. So e.g. in Titans 13, you can see Dick's set up the room almost like he's leading a business meeting, and he's the boss lecturing them, and they're reacting by getting mad at him. Part of this is basically a Traditional Bat Problem - Tim's friends also balk because they feel like Tim's keeping them at a distance - but Dick tends to lean especially hard on "I'm The Leader Here So Shut Up And Do What I Say" professionalism / distancing.

When things are going well, Dick's friends may grumble at his intense professionalism but basically appreciate it (this is basically how things go in their reunion in TT vol 2); when things are not going well, though, it becomes a point of tension. Generally, Dick gets extra-professional as a coping mechanism when under stress, as here in TT vol 2 12:

To the extent that Dick falters with social skills, it tends to be almost exclusively with people he knows well, not with strangers. Dick sometimes struggles with maintaining relationships, largely because he's often juggling multiple responsibilities; he'll sometimes get hyperfixated on something and deprioritize his more stable relationships (so e.g. when he gets fixated on trying to fix Blüdhaven and gets distracted from his relationship with Babs).

Somewhat relatedly, if things start going wrong in his own life, he tends to self-isolate out of shame and avoid everyone he thinks of as more put-together. So, for example, in the aftermath of Blockbuster, he's a self-destructive mess who's trying to dodge and/or drive away Clark and Roy and Tim (all people who care about him and would want to help), but Sophia Tevis and Rose are two messed-up young strangers in trouble and their obvious neediness trips his "urgency" meter, plus he may be a mess but they have no context to realize that so he doesn't feel so self-conscious, and he's able to be drive-by super-helpful to them and then dive right back into privately self-destructing.

Also not a weakness per se, but he tends to be a bit of an introvert in general - he and Wally are close, but they go long stretches of time without catching up; when he's spending time with friends, usually it's Donna / Wally / the Titans / Tim visiting Dick rather than the other way around; he's more likely to get cajoled into joining a team than the other way round - Wally talks him into rejoining the Titans and Roy talks him into joining the Outsiders. He likes people and likes spending time with friends, but he's usually not the one initiating a social gathering. He's self-aware about this; in Titans 9, he muses, "It's not the newness that's the problem. The problem is the old stuff. The ruts. You know someone long enough - well enough - and you fall into a rut with them... you completely take the relationship for granted..."

Relatedly, because Dick's pretty self-contained, he has a recurring problem where loved ones interpret him as distant or detached or indifferent even when he's still passionately attached - both Kory and Babs break up with Dick in part because they feel like he's not really that committed to them (also there are mmm Problematic Plotlines involved but I'm ignoring those for the purposes of this post), and in both cases IMO they're misreading him. He's deeply upset by both breakups and responds with big declarations of feeling and, uh, proposing marriage shortly afterward. (Okay, so he's not ALWAYS sure-footed sdfdsfs)

When Dick's getting something wrong, it's usually because he's upset and overcompensating - when things with Kory and Babs are tense, he tries to fix it with Big Gestures; when Vic's mad at him about spying, he missteps with an elaborate secret plan culminating in a big dramatic offering of a new body which Vic does want... but he's still understandably miffed at Dick for making a bunch of decisions behind his back instead of talking to him. Dick guesses right about something Vic will want, but because Dick when he's feeling guilty tends to slide into I-Am-The-Leader, I-Must-Fix-Everything-By-Myself, I-Am-Responsible-For-Everything mode, he forgets that the whole original problem is connected to not respecting Vic's autonomy / right to make decisions for himself, and that a better gesture would be asking Vic what he wants instead of once again making decisions on his behalf without consulting him. (I'm sympathetic to Dick's spying-on-Vic plan on account of how Vic did turn into an evil moon for a bit - comics are bonkers, you guys sdfdsfs - but I'm also very sympathetic to Vic feeling that he deserved fuller disclosure here.)

And you can see similar patterns in lower-key conflicts too: every time Dick gets accused of being just like Batman, it's usually because he's coming off as harsh or detached or uncaring (sometimes on purpose because he's pushing people away; sometimes just because Dick handles grief and fear by shutting down; sometimes because his the-buck-stops-here leadership style can come off as overly-detached), even though Dick actually cares SO SO MUCH, all the time, about everyone he knows.

But honestly... these weaknesses exist, but they're minor in comparison to his strengths?? Dick's a guy with a lot of very strong friendships for a reason. He's true as steel and once he cares about you, he cares about you forever. <3

OKAY! So that's Dick. Let's finally move on to...

Tim

Comforting friends in Joker's Last Laugh 3:

Tim: Babs? Is everything okay? (hugs her)

A bit out-of-sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Young Justice 7:

Cassie: A campout isn't a campout without a real fire. It's no fun at all. Tim: But the generator is far more efficient, Cassie. It's non-polluting, it poses no threat of forest fire, and it's... it's ... (taking in everybody else's expressions, sighing, reversing course) It's no fun at all. Impulse, can you...?

Fighting with friends in Adventure Comics 3 (stonewalling, avoidance, and lying!)

Conner: You weren't picking up. Tim: I didn't know it was you. Conner: I turned off my caller ID blocking. Tim: I was busy. I am busy. Conner: Too busy to talk to your best friend? Tim: Yes. No.

Giving emotional support to relative strangers in Robin 98 / 100 / 156:

Wesley: I just wanted to thank you. They tell us at the meetings that it's important to let people know how you feel. You did a lot for me - making me sober up. If you hadn't taken the time to notice - (Later) Tim: You're gonna stay strong, right? (Wesley: Right.) Tim: You're gonna stay sober, okay? (Wesley: Okay.) Tim: You're gonna do it 'cause - Wesley: 'Cause if I don't you'll come back and kick my butt all over campus. Tim: Uh huh.

(The redhaired guy was about to jump. Tim convinces him to sit down and talk first.) Tim: So, you're in college? Guy: Yeah, I'm a freshman. How'd you know? Tim: Just a hunch. I'm guessing you don't like it much. Guy: I always hated high school. Always felt like I was outside looking in, never part of any group or anything. I was on the diving team but even then I didn't feel like part of it. The only good thing was that was where I met Lori, my girlfriend.

Offering practical support (medical care and tea) in Batgirl 59:

Tim (treating her injury as she shares her traumatic past): Whoa. That's ... horrible. Cass: That's nothing. Stephanie and I used to laugh about - oh... uh... never mind. Wait, Tim. I... I'm so ... stupid, I don't - Tim: You're not stupid. Want some tea? Cass: I ... uh... yeah. Thank you.

Strengths:

Tim! I think Tim's also pretty decent at people - not as good as Dick, but hardly anyone is?

I tend to think of Dick as instinctively good at people, and Tim as more consciously good at people.

Tim spends a lot of time being intentionally watchful: observing, spying, psychoanalyzing people, paying careful attention to what they say, thinking about what makes them tick. (And Tim psychoanalyzes himself, too. Tim is studiously engaged in the study of Tim, and of Tim's friends, and of Tim's family. He's often playing a role, even when that role is "Tim Drake.")

So e.g. in Red Robin, at one point Tim has an elaborate domino-falling database where he's compiled a list of villains he wants to fight and how he wants to fight them, all leading up to a very careful takedown plan for Boomerang where he's thought through and anticipated Boomerang's every move ahead of time... and he's basically right! He gets it all right!

And this kind of intensely-studied logical chess-game of "he will do this for this reason, and then this for that reason, and the other people will respond in this way, like a series of dominos, and I've thought through all the possibilities" is Very Tim to me, and I feel like... this is just the sort of thing that Dick would never ever do?

And mostly Dick wouldn't do it because he wouldn't have to. When Dick's skeptical of James Gordon Jr., he goes to talk to the guy and feel him out, and he ethically feels obliged to give him the benefit of the doubt because there's no evidence against him, but he's got a bad feeling and doesn't trust him and secretly slaps a tracer on him because he's got an instinct he'll want it, and he's right: James Jr. is up to something, and that tracer is exactly the thing that Dick needs.

And similarly if Dick wanted to goad James Jr. into doing something, I think he'd go off and meet him and goad him into doing it, and he'd have an instinct for what to say to make that happen - I think the whole elaborate domino plan that Tim comes up with for Boomerang would feel unnecessarily complex to Dick. Not that Dick doesn't make complicated plans, because he absolutely does, but Dick doesn't usually overthink people.

Similarly, if Dick had been the little kid in Lonely Place of Dying, he'd have gotten worried and gone straight to Bruce and talked to him, not gotten worried and taken photos of Bruce from a distance and then come up with an elaborately overthought plan to go to New York and track down his estranged son and fix him that way. And, like. Kid!Tim's not entirely wrong! He's correctly picked up on a very real and very strong connection between Bruce and Dick even though he doesn't know either of them! And given how little actual information Tim has, this is actually an impressive plan (it's a bad plan, because Tim doesn't know about their fights, but it's an impressively solid plan given that his entire information basis is "watched them from a distance and collected news reports"). But this isn't how Dick thinks about people.

Backing up to a more general point: Tim values people skills really really really highly. I think "uses interpersonal skills to help and comfort other people" is one of Tim's highest values and arguably the highest value - he imprinted on Dick because he was kind, and then imprinted on Batman because he was comforting Dick. And he has six million After-School-Special-style plotlines where he tries to comfort / advise / rescue / etc. people in various stages of emotional distress and who are using bad coping mechanisms. His very first outing as Robin involves talking down a semi-suicidal shooter; the big finale of YJ has Tim talking Secret down from her rampage; he's very gentle when he's comforting his girlfriend after she confides in him about a maybe-attempted-rape; he talks down a suicidal college student in Robin; plus there's the entire concept of "Batman needs Robin" in the first place; not to mention his obsession with the importance of friends; and so forth.

So it's something that he's good at because it's something he values and works at. His people skills are conscious and learned. He does a fair bit of amateur psychoanalysis of other people's problems, and he's generally good at identifying the problems, even if he's not always great at fixing them. And he's often playing a role, or imitating other people, rather than being himself; he invests a lot of time constructing alternate identities; he's often more comfortable wearing a mask. (It is just so typical of Tim that his civilian friendship group is the DCU version of D&D players.)

So his practiced-people-skills work decently well, because he's diligent and he cares a lot, and he's better at people when he's older than when he's younger. And he's extremely good at things he's had a lot of practice with, like meeting new schoolmates, or making small talk, and he's friendly and he likes people, and he's good at learning scripts and following them, and he only tends to misstep when he's distracted or unusually anxious or when he's in a situation where normal social norms don't help. (Of course, since he's a vigilante and not an ordinary person, distracted / unusually anxious / weird situation are all things that happen more often than you might think!)

I also think Tim has a few caretaker instincts that have become automatic - generally he's hyperaware of when people are upset and usually tries to reach out or fix it, and even when he's trying to keep himself at a distance he'll slide into caretaking sometimes - so e.g. there's that moment in Batgirl with Cass when Tim's kinda upset with her for siding with Batman (and distancing himself from other people in general), so he's not intending to get close to her, but also what we see him doing is treating her wounds and then getting her tea. And meanwhile Cass actually wants to reach out, and she's intensely observing him and worrying and wanting to help, but what she actually does is... drink the tea. That Tim got her. While she stays firmly on her side of the couch.

(I tend to think of Cass as slightly similar to Tim but at the very very very beginning of her learn-to-people journey here? Like Tim, she cares!! A lot!! And she's successfully understood that Tim's upset, and she knows when she's put her foot in her mouth. But she's not sure what to do yet.)

Weaknesses:

Tactless! This is a tricky word because I think people sometimes hear 'tactless' and misunderstand it as 'generically rude,' but that's not quite the issue - Tim's quite polite most of the time; his problem is that his default mental monologue is very detached / psychoanalyzing / analytical, including about himself and things he's emotional about. He'll often be analyzing his own emotions even in the process of having them (I also talk about this a little here, though it's mostly a post about Dick and anger), and Tim's also constantly analyzing other people.

This means that if he doesn't edit his brain-to-mouth filter, he can come off as too detached or professional or calculating.

This is obviously similar to Dick's problem of coming off as too detached / professional - again, they're both Bats - but it's not quite the same thing, and I think this distinction is most obvious if you look at the places where they're doing it on purpose and picking fights:

Dick's most likely to pick fights by pulling rank: "I'm the boss, you all fucked up this mission and you better not do it again, shape up or shut up." This is a kind of distancing that's about Dick-the-impassive-boss and you-the-subordinate.

By contrast, Tim's more likely to pick fights via hostile psychoanalysis: "I notice you're being snide about Cass again, but we both know you're actually just mad that Bruce cares about her more than he cares about you." When he's miffed, both his inner monologue and the things he says tend toward 'uncharitable analysis of your emotional weaknesses,' and this is something he periodically directs at Bruce / Jason / Damian. This is a kind of distancing that's about Tim-the-hostile-analyst and you-the-unfortunate-target-of-analysis.

(Caveats: I don't think Tim's above trying to pull rank if he can, but he rarely has the opportunity; Dick's not above jabs at other people's weaknesses when he's very defensive and feeling attacked - junkie, elevator - but IMO he's more likely to pull rank, whereas Tim's jabs are more likely to be wrapped up in insulting psychoanalysis, so e.g. Jason's insecurity is his problem. The Jan Brady of the Batfamily.)

You can see related similar-sounding-but-different issues if you look at some of their respective breakups. So e.g. Dick has a breakup with Babs in which she thinks he doesn't care about her, and Tim has a breakup with Cassie in which she thinks he doesn't care about her. And these breakups are different for six million reasons (among other things, Dick and Babs have a pretty intense romance, whereas, uh, Tim and Cassie have had one date and IMO she's very right that they're better off as friends).

But you also get some useful character notes:

Babs is wrongly anxious that Dick's mostly in love with nostalgia for their past rather than the person she is now (he 100% does love the person she is now!) and she's being unfairly bitchy about Catalina, but she's also correctly noted that he's gotten into the habit of deprioritizing their relationship in favor of vigilante busywork & that he's been a bit pushy in swooping in protectively rather than letting her fight her own battles, so when she's accusing him of being a control freak it's not completely coming from thin air; Dick responds by getting hurt, upset, and direct (he gets furious and punches something, but then makes a big sweet sincere emotional speech to her about how much he cares and values her, albeit one that's so caught up in his own emotions like wanting to "protect" her that he's not slowing down enough to take in her insecurities).

Cassie has correctly realized that dating Tim is a bad coping mechanism and she really needs to just deal with her grief over Conner; when she starts crying, at first Tim moves to comfort her, but when she actually clarifies the breakup, an upset Tim responds by aggressively de-emotionalizing the conversation and pretending he's being totally logical and not emotional about it - he first wonders aloud if he's a bad detective for not seeing it coming and then attempts a bonkers guilt-trip suggestion that it's their duty to date in order to uhhh avoid turning evil in the bad future (sdfsfdsfdsfds sure tim nice try)

This isn't because Tim literally doesn't have feelings, because of course he does! But often, the more upset he is, the worse he gets at clearly expressing those feelings, and the more he intellectualizes them or avoids discussing them.

(Caveat: The trouble with any distinction is that it's easy to exaggerate it in ways that are oversimplified, and I want to emphasize that this doesn't reduce to "Dick always expresses emotions, Tim is never emotional," or anything like that. Dick has a bunch of complicated feelings about the intensity of his emotions because he values control and detachment and often is trying to be more detached (I talk more about this in the context of anger here and here); Tim often retreats to faux-analytical detachment when he's actually very emotional; and these are tendencies rather than one-note 24/7 truths - Dick is completely capable of intellectualizing away his emotions; Tim is completely capable of just getting straightforwardly and directly upset. But if you're looking for broad distinctions, I think it's fair to say that Dick's usually better at directly using his words and expressing his emotions, even if he sometimes feels self-conscious shame about it later, whereas Tim tends to self-sabotage and deflect and hide by producing intellectualized faux-logic instead of just being direct about what he wants or what he's feeling.)

An unrelated issue is that Tim also tends to get intrusive when he's anxious, and it gets worse the more he cares about you. Tim really really really wants to know what's going on and has an intense Need To Help, which generally works out for him - this is the entire reason he pushes his way into the Batfamily! - but it's easy to imagine Tim running into people who might not appreciate his busybody sneakiness; so e.g. secretly stalking your friend because he has a bruise, or running your friend's DNA, etc., is... stuff that all comes from how much Tim cares, but also it involves a very fuzzy relationship with other people's privacy, so Tim's friendships that stick around tend to be with people who find this kind of intense observation to be caring rather than pushy. Relatedly, Tim's version of "be protective" can overlap with "be condescending," which means he tends to get along best with confident people like Bruce, who could punt him into a wall and who thus finds Tim's 'disapproving medic' shtick endearing instead of insulting.

Tim also struggles to connect to people for whom he doesn't have an obvious "script" or who don't respond to his usual scripts. So e.g. offering Gar a "you don't like me but let's be friends" handshake worked; offering Cass a "let's be friends" handshake worked; offering the same thing to Damian did not go over so well; and I think this kind of "it usually works so this is my habit now?" thing is very Tim, and I don't think it's the sort of mistake that Dick would make.

More broadly, because Tim's people skills are conscious and learned - the effort sometimes shows! He stares at people. He secretly spies on them. He pokes around in their secrets. Dick can be paying close attention to you and seem like he's not, so that his awareness seems effortless and less intrusive. I think Tim's awareness tends to be a bit more effortful.

That said, though, I don't think that Tim's intensely-observing-you shtick is necessarily obvious except to people who are fairly socially-skilled themselves. When I write fanfic, I generally write from Dick's POV, and I tend to write Dick being hyperaware of when, say, Tim's observing him, or trying to figure out what's going on with him. But I think of that as more "Dick's good at reading Tim and really aware of being watched, so every attempt at subtlety stands out in neon lighting," and I think to someone who's less good at reading people than Dick is, Tim is a lot subtler.

And I think for e.g. someone like Cass, who really struggles with people skills, Tim seems impossibly and naturally good at interactions in the same way that to Tim, Dick seems incredibly good at it.

#ask tag #dick grayson #tim drake #hi anon this is SO OLD i'm so sorry sdfdsfds #i am very slow & this is very long because i kept adding things to it but this was a very fun ask thank you <3

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floccinaucinihilipilificationa · 1 year

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Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

#may 31th anon #hello friends!! (｡’▽’｡)♡ how are you!! I missed you so much!#I'm sorry that once again i have not been posting but I did that thing again where I got scared of posting #I do not know why but it is the same with physical paper diarys #I have 3 diarys and they all have 1 entry #I think one just says 'I am ten'#what have you been up to!! did you do something fun? is it summer too where you live? c:#my tumblr messages seem to be broken! I'm sorry if you wrote something :C it just says 'no new messages' despite also saying new messages #not a lot has happened here! I got a tomato plant and then I got very invested into the tomato plant and I have eaten three tomatos so far (#my roses are also doing well!! I just got a new yellow rose and since she got here she only made orange flowers #I do not know the meaning of that #but I am very thankful! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ I love it when things are orange!!#I've been trying to buy an orange shirt for the past 2 weeks but they always sell out before I get to them #I'm also thinking about buying a jean jacket #I have not worn a jean jacket for at least 15 years because one time in 7th grade tthe girl behind me said #that I was wearing a cool jean jacket and I just assumed that this was bullying for no actual reason #but maybe she just thought that it was an acutal cool jean jacket #we'll soon have out 10 year school reunion #maybe I should ask her #is anyone else going to a secret Sherlock phase again #I just want to see that silly little hat again #would sherlock holmes wear a jean jacket #have a nice day everyone!!#see you soon hopefully!!#♡＾▽＾♡

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mechanismslorearchive · 5 months

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This is the question we all need answered..

Does Jonny bite?

Do you want the canonical answer or the answer we all know in our hearts to be true? While there are instances in canon of other things (octokittens) biting Jonny, there is no evidence of his biting someone (at least, not while they're still alive-- he does eat people). In fact, the crew claims that they, collectively, don't bite, even if "other forms of assault are fair game." Of course, they may be lying, as they do about most things.

However, I think we all know instinctively that that man is a biter.

#mod miralines #the mechanisms #jonny d'ville #this was a very fun question to answer anon thank you #I reread every single blog post and most of the fictions jonny appears in to confirm this #tbf not having evidence he does doesn't mean we have evidence he doesn't

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2aceofspades · 6 months

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Hmmmm....

*stares Leo dead in the eyes while adding another sticker to the Ace Face*

Sry bud, but Ace is absolutely the grade A cutie here, I'm legally obligated to side with them

~-- --- .-. ... . / .- -. --- -.

Haha!

Thank you, my lovely morse anon :)

#ace answers #acey doodles #the old man is bitter oooooh~#as he should be hah!#thank you again morse anon 🙌✨!!#this was very fun to draw teehee!#until next time of course...#:)

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allastoredeer · 2 months

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I’d love to hear about your radioapple headcanons!!

What do you think their love languages would be?

Who cooks for the other?

Have they ever considered sleeping in the same bed?

What would they bond over? Etc

Oooh hoo! I'm actually making them explore their love languages in the fic I'm writing right LMAO.

But yeah! I'll share some of my brain thoughts!!

Their love languages:

Lucifer's Lover Language: Gift Giving (he likes creating things, especially if he has someone specific in mind because that's when its got the most heart and effort in it, and people accepting his gifts and genuinely liking them mean the absolute word to him), Words of Affirmation (sometimes he just needs some affirmation, you know? Sometimes he needs to be told he's doing a good job), and Physical Touch (likes the closeness and intimacy of it, whether its cuddling, sex, or just holding hands).

Alastor's Love Language: Acts of Service (he shows his love by doing things for you, be it home cooked meals, picking up a few things for you, or killing someone. It's all in the name of love, baby!), Words of Affirmation (give him compliments. He needs them like air. if there's any stroking going on, it's going to be strokes to his ego), and Quality Time (arranged quality time, to be specific. I feel like he wouldn't like people popping up on him out of nowhere and dragging him off. Well, unless you're Rosie, maybe. Anyway, sometimes it's just being in his own room, doing his own thing, in the companionship of Lucifer's company. They can talk and argue and banter, but companionable silence is good too.)

Who cooks for the other?

Alastor.

Alastor def cooks for Lucifer when he actually enjoys being in his presence. He knows a lot of home-cooked meals, as well as a variety of desserts and sweets (even if he, personally, doesn't like sweet things). Some of it is because he enjoys cooking for people he likes, and some of it is just because it's a fun hobby to him. He likes learning how to cook new recipes, even if he might not like that recipe himself.

I think Lucifer knows how to cook. Maybe nothing extravagant or super complicated, but he can make a good dish. As soon as Charlie moved out, he kind of fell out of it, though. Anything he made for himself was Hell's equivalent of a microwaveable dinner. He just did not have the motivation, energy, or mental/emotional capacity to put a lot of effort into himself. He really enjoyed cooking things for Charlie, and I actually think he'd tried to cook Alastor's favorite dish as a surprise for him (for their anniversary, or an in-house date night, or just as a random act of love, because I feel like Lucifer would do a lot of spur-of-the-moment, random acts of love).

Have they ever considered sleeping in the same bed?

They did, eventually, when their relationship got to the point they felt comfortable doing that. Alastor likes his space, and he doesn't like people intruding on it. His room is his comfort zone. He doesn't mind physical touch, but it needs to be on his own terms. Sometimes, he's okay with cuddling up next to Lucifer, and sometimes he just needs his space while he's sleeping.

Lucifer can still be in the bed, he's just gotta stay on his side.

Lucifer, on the other hand, is a big cuddler. He's incredibly touch-starved from being on his own for so long, so he'll take the physical touch he can get. Alastor can recognize when Lucifer needs more physical touch, and he'll offer it so long as he's also mentally able to as well.

The more they get used to each other's presence, the more Alastor is open to Lucifer sleeping in the same bed with him, and indulging in physical contact. Lucifer is patient, and if Alastor wants him to stay on his side of the bed one night, he's fine with that. He'll get his cuddles again, eventually.

What would they bond over?

How bad modern television/entertainment is. It's all quantity over quality. There's rarely any real passion put into it. It's all to make as much money as possible, without putting life into the story.

Alastor is an entertainer. As a radio host, all he had to keep a captive audience was his voice and whatever other sounds he decided to use. It's all audio. And he has passion for entertainment. It needs flair! Drama! Charm!

All the modern stuff just feels so bland and lazy (and maybe he's a little too harsh on it sometimes. Even if he comes across something he actually likes, he'll NEVER admit it).

Lucifer just wants something good to watch, but anything he put on just didn't hit it for him. Sometimes, just sitting on the couch for hours watching cash-grab movies/shows made him feel even worse about himself, and creating ducks at least gave him some enjoyment, so he turned to that.

He doesn't have as much vehemence for modern entertainment as Alastor. If he finds something he likes, he'll happily watch it (much to Alastor dismay). But he rarely finds anything that REALLY intrigues him, so he just doesn't go searching for it very often.

I also think they would bond over their respective hobbies. Lucifer likes making and collecting ducks. Alastor likes collecting furbies. They go hobby shopping together. Alastor rearranges and dusts off his furbies, while Lucifer creates his ducks. They co-play.

Additional headcanons (some of which you guys might already know!):

Alastor Bottoms and Lucifer Tops (In this specific relationship. Lucifer, himself, is a switch (which is canon!), but Alastor doesn't like topping- or inserting any part of himself into someone else. It's icks him out. He's okay with taking on a more passive bottom role. He might be convinced to Top, maybe, but it rarely ever happens).

Alastor is sex neutral, in the way that he's okay with having sex when he feels up to it, but he's also totally fine with not having it at all (Except when Lucifer goes demon mode in bed, because he has a power kink, and he is ALL for that. It's the only time he'll be an active bottom during sex).

Lucifer has a very high libido. It dropped a lot in the 7 years that he isolated himself in his palace (and because of depression. Depression definitely had a hand in that too), but as he starts getting into a better mind space and getting the mental-health help he needs, his libido comes back full force. He'll never push Alastor into doing anything, and he's okay with taking care of his sexual needs on his own, he's just a very, very horny man. He loves the intimacy, closeness, and pleasure that comes with sex, and loves sharing that with his partner. It's very important to him. It took a while for Alastor to really understand WHY sex is so important to Lucifer, as it doesn't really make sense to him, but once he did, he tries to be more active when they do have sex - or more proactive in initiating it (of course, only when he wants to, because you shouldn't force yourself to have sex with your partner!)

Alastor and Lucifer argue about the stupidest, most random, most insignificant things. It'll lead to full on shouting matches, and then 10 minutes later, they're chilling on the couch like nothing happened at all. They argue for the sake of arguing. The more heated, the better.

Annnd, that's all I have time for right now, but I do have more headcanons tumbling around in my head. Many thoughts.

These two are silly.

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wolfram-but-art · 3 months

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dumpling

dumpling....

#wolfart asks #polsih scout >>>>#tf2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 oc #human!archimedes #scout tf2 #i liked drawing this #very fun. thank you anon :3

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tswwwit · 5 months

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i think about bill telling other bill “i’m happy” in bill vs bill like seven times a day actually i’m very normal about them

And you know that two-word phrase keeps Other Bill up at night roiling in jealous fury!

Our Bill, meanwhile, is smugly resting with his head gently pillowed on a twunk's great butt.

#answer #Thank you anon; I was pretty pleased with that resolution myself!!#Bill vs Bill was very fun to write #Major props to whoever sent in the anon prompt that inspired it #Other Bill's not going to take action on how bad that phrase bothers him #It's just another addon to the pile of things that haunt him and he lies and lies and lies until a different idea becomes true for him #Our Bill's doing pretty great though!!#And he's very very VERY smug about it

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imminent-danger-came · 11 months

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do you think MK is gonna have a circlet arc?? Going along with your eldritch mk theory jt could parallel his past life being contained and also more parallels to SWK and MK how fun

This ask has haunted my ask box for 3 days. Circlet arc??? CIRCLET ARC???? THAT WOULD BE TERRIBLE AND SO SO SO GOOD.

I have no idea if it would actually happen in show, but I have a feeling MK is at the very least going to have an "anti-circlet" arc. Go with me for a moment:

So, we know MK's bandana parallels Wukong's phoenix feathers in design, right?

MK with the two ends of his bandana and Wukong with the two feathers coming out of his cap.

However, MK's bandana is ALSO a parallel to Wukong's circlet:

And MK was given this bandana by Pigsy (presumably):

This is basically a long winded way to say that MK has already been "crowned", in a sense. Unlike Wukong, MK never needed to be controlled in the same way his mentor did at the beginning of his journey. MK, instead, was given morals and love by our wonderful Dadsy from a young age, which effectively functioned as a "circlet", if that makes sense.

So, the bandana, a symbol of both who he is/was raised to be and the crown, is already his circlet. As MK is now, he doesn't need a circlet to exert control over him because of who he is—a good kid who is trying his best to make the right choices.

But, you know, there was that really scary scene that one time where MK didn't exactly feel like MK and he kind of went off the rails...and...WHAT IS THAT

HIS BANDANA WAS DAMAGED BY HIMSELF IN AN EPISODE TITLED "Rip and Tear" !!?!??!?!?

SO.

Say MK were to rip his own bandana off, symbolically showing his complete decent into his "harbinger of chaos" role...that would mean another crown would have to go on to replace it, right?

Whether MK get's crowned symbolically with another bandana or an ACTUAL circlet remains to be seen, but the potential is definitely there! And I'm normal about it

#how fun #anon did you know SWK and MK parallels are my lifeblood #anyways #I'm completely fine!!!! I think about the line ''they will destroy you harbinger of chaos'' a normal amount!!!!!!#I'm sorry guys MK evil arc might be very real. Like not YET. Using his monkey form in the special was kinda a #Samadhi fire Mei situation where you wish it didn't have to happen but are kinda glad it did.#But like. There is going to be a time where Monkey form is not the answer yet it's the one MK gives and the bandana goes and we're FUCKED #Or at least like. That's what I'm speculating #So I don't know if MK will for sure have a circlet arc. But maybe I pray to god everyday he will. Maybe I want it really bad.#Look all I'm saying is that MK destroying his own friendship armor with his own power is NOT a good sign. Okay. thanks ilu #lmk #lmk mk #lmk theory #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #asks #eamk theory

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wexhappyxfew · 4 months

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hey!! could i request "enjoying the sun that's warming their face" for whichever character/ship you're feeling? thank youuu 💕

hello anon! thank you so much for stopping by the askbox! and thank you even more so for sending in a prompt - i really loved getting to work with this prompt so so much and it honestly led me to a (1) new OC for MoTA and (2) writing with a new character from MoTA that I wanted to try some writing for! :) SO, i hope you enjoy the first introduction to WAC, Lieutenant Annie Chattaway from Mankato, Minnesota!

It was a wonder to Annie what a Lieutenant bar did to a man.

Not only did she watch men seem to hastily salute in her direction, or shove each other quickly to their feet, but they watched her with a shaky gaze before she kept on moving past.

The bright sunlight above seemed fit for arrival, her transport having dropped her by the entrance to Thorpe Abbotts, with Colonel Harding taking her in for introductions, hand-shaking and flattery. Now, with her belongings sorted out and her bearings gathered, she was in search of a few select names that Harding had graciously offered up.

"Looking for something special?"

The rumble of a military-grade jeep, fumes and all, pulled up beside her in a hurry, screeching to a halt, the breaks in need of a good oiling, and a smiley Major in the front seat. Annie halted for a moment there on the tarmac and offered a sweet smile, from behind the Raybands and her cap and stepped to the edge of the jeep.

"Depends on who's asking." she told him with a smile and a nod, before saluting.

"John Egan, uh, Major Egan," he said, another smile spreading on his lips, tilting his head to the side, "Bucky if you like." More widening of the grin.

"Pleasure to meet you, Major Egan," she said, dismissing his grinny self and stuck out a hand forward, "Lieutenant Chattaway, just in from Fort Des Moines. I've been assigned here, as a translator."

Major Egan made a show of raising his brow from behind his own pair of Raybands and leaned forward, arm up over the passenger's side of the jeep, hand on the steering wheel and smirked.

"Sounds like you got yourself into a nice gig," he said, "….translator, huh?" Annie stared at him from behind her Raybands. Right.

"Can I ask where your mess hall is, sir?" she asked him, side-stepping the translator question, "Colonel Harding mentioned it after introductions."

"Wanna hop in? I could give you a ride over, chat over coffee, hey, I'll even show you where the officers' club is." he said and then scooched back to his side and nodded to the seat, smiling, "Take it or leave it." Annie watched him for a moment and debated her options - ride with Major Egan, possibly get some coffee that he definitely knew the location of, or continue to wander around base looking like a sorry excuse for a bull in a china shop.

"Major."

Annie turned to behind her, following Major Egan's line of sight, and found a Captain walking towards them, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight, saluting Major Egan and then turning his eyes to her. He watched her for a moment, before she quickly saluted him, watching him quietly from behind her Raybands - tall, large stature, soft eyes.

To think he was a pilot by the way his peak cap covered his head, seeing all the war the planes brought to the air and the sky around.

"Brady, just in time," cooed Egan, jumping up from his seat in the jeep and coming towards the Captain - Brady - wrapping an arm around his shoulder and nodding, Brady slowly looking towards Egan with a tired look.

"This is Lieutenant Chattaway," Egan said with a nod to her, "didn't find the time for a first name, but I know it's there. She's gonna be translating." Brady eyed her for a moment.

"Pleasure to have you here, Lieutenant Chattaway." Brady said, nodding firmly, a quick itch of a smile on his face before disappearing and looking over to Egan, "Major Egan, I've been meaning to discuss with you-"

"Later." Egan said, clapping Brady on the shoulder, "right now, we gotta show Lieutenant 'No Name' Chattaway to the mess hall. Get her some grub." Brady glanced her way again - she stared right back at him through her Raybands and cleared her throat.

"It's fine really, sir," she said quickly, "I can find my way." She smiled slightly.

"Nah! Nah, c'mon, Lieutenant," Egan said, "look, here, Brady and I, consider us your personal tour guides-"

"Major-"

"C'mon, let's roll." Egan said and then gave Brady a clap on the shoulder and a wink and then moved back towards the jeep. The two watched him go before standing in silence.

Annie looked back towards Brady and found him already watching her; when he caught her eyes on him, he offered a small smile.

"You doing alright?" he asked her, the smile on his face soft, the sunlight bathing his face in a golden light; looking up towards him she put on her best smile and nodded.

"Yes, sir." she said firmly.

"He can be…." Brady trailed off and looked over her shoulder and nodded, "….yeah."

"It's fine, really, sir," she said, "seems like a fun guy." Brady grinned at her comment and nodded, before looking down.

"Probably best if we get in the jeep, before he starts well…." Brady smirked, "….you can probably guess." Brady imitated a little circle beside his head - before he starts going crazy, she seemed to finish it off in her mind. Annie smiled.

"Captain John Brady," he said, holding out his hand, "I know Major Egan introduced you as Lieutenant 'No Name' Chattaway, but that's-"

"Annie." she said, meeting his hand - warm as anything, encasing her own, firm, "Annie Chattaway." A loud beep-beep and a rumble of an engine appeared beside them with a slightly, pathetically disgruntled Major Egan in the front seat.

"C'monnn, let's goooo," he said, clapping his hands in front of him, "days changing to night, I think the first leaves of fall have come down." Annie looked back over to Brady and watched the small smile dart onto his face.

"What? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin, sir?" Annie questioned turning to him and moving towards the passenger side, before climbing right in the back, looking over to Egan who was smirking at her - she glanced then at Brady, "Will you be joining us, Captain?" Brady looked to her and then offered her a smile and climbed in the passengers' side.

"What would happen if I turn into a pumpkin, huh?" Egan called over his shoulder, "You hear that, Brady, she thinks I'll turn into a pumpkin!" He started up the jeep.

"I think a pumpkin is being generous, sir!" Brady called back over the roar of the jeep as they moved towards the barracks. Annie smirked to herself and admired the life around base - the Land Army women, the townsfolk, the pilots, the airmen, the ground crews, the sky, the sun, the trees. The world as they knew it.

"So, Chattaway, where you from? Wisconsin? Harding mentioned something or other..." Egan called over his shoulder, "They make cheese right?"

"Minnesota, sir!" Annie called back, "Mankato!"

"Never been!" Egan called over his shoulder, "Should show me how to make The Bootleg - you know….. they said F. Scott Fitzgerald would sip on some of those."

"Really." muttered Brady unenthusiastically from beside him.

"Oh, cheer up, Brady, you could be getting The Bootleg tonight - you'd be thanking me for it, too." Egan called as they pulled up to the front of mess, "Right, we're here." Egan turned to look over his shoulder at her and grinned.

"Liking the view?" Annie offered a smile.

"Thorpe Abbotts is beautiful, sir," she said glancing to the sky, "I'll be excited to see the mess hall." Egan grinned and gave Brady another shoulder slap.

"You'll be pleased as peaches to see coffee," Egan said hoping out and turning to her, laughing to himself, "I mean, I know I always am." Brady moved out and straightened out his pants before glancing over his shoulder and turning towards her.

"It's nothing more than watered down G.I. coffee, but it's something," he said as Annie slowly shifted forward, "Major Egan just gets excited when there's still extra by midday."

"Don't be telling my secrets now, Brady," Egan said pointing to him, "it's a precious commodity, we don't go saying that around here." Annie smiled to herself and then slowly stood, placing her hands on the edge of the jeep before noticing a hand appear.

Looking up, Brady was stood there, watching her with the sun warming his softened face. She smiled at him, gratefully taking his hand, letting him help her step down onto the ground. It was only a few seconds more before the two were dropping their hands and Major Egan was making a show of pointing up to the mess hall and going on about something or other about a beer bottle being thrown at the wall - but as Annie followed quietly behind both Egan and Brady, she noticed the clench of Brady's hand there.

The one that had touched her own.

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ratinayellowbandana · 9 months

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Hi! Number six of the drabble prompt list, and if I may suggest, with a sad jealous Laudna.

hi! I'm sorry this one took a few days. I um. got a little carried away with it again. these were only supposed to be like 500-word prompt fills, and this is uh, slightly more than that. so I hope that's ok.

for those who don't want to find the prompt, it was: "You just didn't look for me." naturally I went ep 64 with a healthy splash of canon divergence, some good old-fashioned hurt/comfort, and pate as a thinly veiled metaphor.

length: 2k

~~~

Laudna whirls on her, snaps, “We looked for you. And the others. Every fucking day.” She holds Imogen’s gaze, holds her piercing stare until Imogen tilts her head. “You just didn’t look for me,” she whispers.

Imogen steps forward, quiet but insistent. “No, sweetheart, no, we did. I did. Every day.” She does not reach out, afraid, not of Laudna–never of Laudna–but of herself. Of what she might do if given the chance at the wrong time. Her heart pounds an unsteady rhythm.

“I want to believe you,” Laudna says. She toys with the brass ring on her left hand, twisting it around her finger anxiously, twin snakes coiling. “I do, truly, it’s just…”

Imogen studies her, searching for answers in a frame both foreign and familiar. Laudna is pale and gaunt, cheeks drawn in, though that’s hardly unusual. Her stringy dark hair lacks luster in the eerie light of the red moon, crispy and clumped together in places by something Imogen can’t identify. Cast in the long shadows between buildings, Laudna is on edge, ready to claw and screech and lash out with those wicked talons if provoked. She is wild, and she is beautiful, and she is frightened.

“I understand,” Imogen speaks slowly, gently, distinctly aware of each word’s weight.

The others are still in the inn, consorting in the tavern. The Hells and their new friends, chatting, laughing, and drinking the night away, simply happy to be home. Introductions were made, and tales of grandeur waited to be spun.

Laudna had been unnervingly quiet after the initial elation wore off. Her hands remained folded in her lap or picked intently at the skin around her nails. Pâté’s silence was even more concerning. He had been coaxed out of hiding in Laudna’s hair with the promise of scratches and nudged his beak into her wrist until she began stroking his greasy fur.

She spoke when spoken to, adjusting in her seat and responding eagerly when prompted. The moment the attention shifted, though, her forced smile would drop. Every so often, she sent a furtive glance in Imogen’s direction as if to ensure she was still there, then looked away just as quickly. Exhaustion crept at the corners of her eyes, and her gaze would fall to her lap whenever the conversation turned to the adventures in Wildemount.

The group from Issylra hadn’t said much about their travels, but Imogen gathered their transplantation had not been as, ah, pleasant wasn’t quite the right word. Illustrious, maybe, Imogen considered, fussing with a seam on her new dress. Laudna’s blouse was tattered and stained with a thick substance that did not match her ichor’s usual viscosity.

Laudna had stood abruptly, muttering something about air, and disappeared outside. After making puzzled eye contact with Ashton, who tossed his head at the door and sighed heavily, Imogen followed her.

She had found Laudna around the corner, curled into herself against the wall of the Spire by Fire. A feral thing, hardened and reshaped by whatever circumstances found her while they were apart.

She has not calmed yet, and Imogen is reluctant to curb the swell of emotion that has Laudna dangling by a thread. She is tangled in it, ensnared in a knotted web, and Imogen is unsure how to extricate her. She is all jagged pieces and raw edges, a tempest of fury and loss that Imogen cannot rely on her mental connection to unravel. Laudna is something of a mystery to her now in a way she has never been, and it’s all Imogen can do to not toss her circlet to the winds.

Instead, she waits.

Laudna is muttering to herself, tugging at her clothes. Pâté flaps about her head, wings of sinew and bone making an abominably wet sound Imogen hadn’t realized she’d missed. The tip of one wing tangles in Laudna’s hair, and she swats at him irritably, sending him tumbling through the air until he manages to right himself. Imogen extends a hand, and he flies to her, settling in her palm on his hindquarters. He gives a disgruntled shake, and his wings squelch back into his body, tail coming to rest around his paws. He peers up at Imogen, then looks back to Laudna.

“I tried,” he croaks in that gravelly way of his, and Imogen strokes his disgusting little head with one finger.

“I know,” she assures gently. He could be referring to any number of moments across a lifetime, a few weeks, mere seconds ago. She sets him on her shoulder and feels pinprick claws pierce the fabric of her dress for stability. Crass and wretched as he is, Imogen can’t find it in herself to hate him. He is an extension of his maker, creepy and ungainly and off-putting, so Imogen must love him a tiny bit. She scratches under his chin, ignores the feeling of magic-touched bone, murmurs, “Thank you for keepin’ her safe.”

“Boss didn’t have the best of times without you.” He pipes up, a little rueful, in a manner Imogen assumes is meant to be quiet. Laudna, only a few feet away, catches it.

“Pâté,” she snarls. He squeaks and tucks himself into Imogen’s collar.

“He’s just confirming what I had already guessed,” Imogen defends, an attempt at lightness that doesn’t quite land. “It’s not his fault you haven’t told me anything.”

“He ought to have stayed in my head. Then he might leave well enough alone,” Launda warns.

“You don’t mean that,” Imogen counters calmly.

Laudna spits, “He should have stayed dead.”

“Hey.”

She huffs a sardonic, dry laugh. “Not everyone deserves second chances.”

Imogen inhales sharply.

There it is.

“Laudna…” She softens. She cups Pâté protectively. His fur oddly damp against her skin. She takes a cautious step forward.

The pieces begin slotting into place, building the frame for a jarring picture of something severe enough to reopen this old wound.

The fight sapped from her limbs, Laudna slides her back down the wall until she sits in the filth and dirt of the alleyway with her knees drawn close to her chest. Imogen winces as rough stone drags across jutting bone and paper-thin skin.

“Are you… Do you want to be alone?” She asks–because what else can she do?– and half-fears the answer.

Laudna’s head jerks up, and something Imogen can’t decipher flashes in her eyes. After a moment, her head shakes minutely, and Imogen lets out a relieved sigh.

Tense silence leaches from the pores of the building’s rocky exterior.

“We tried to find you all. Every day. We didn’t–we didn’t know where we were. Where anyone was, and–” Laudna breathes at last. “Orym was… was angry. Vengeful. And Ashton…. He was our friend.”

“Ashton?”

“I hurt him,” Laudna continues as if Imogen hadn’t spoken at all.

“Hurt who?”

She shudders. “I killed him, not Prism.” Inky tears well from eyes pressed shut. Her voice is impossibly soft, hollow, seeming to ask, Do you hate me yet?

The narrative is convoluted at best. Imogen fruitlessly attempts to splice together the fragments of memory slipping through Laudna’s teeth like snowflakes, to arrange them into a cohesive whole among the scraps she gathered at the table. The Issylra group returned rattled, apprehensive and tense, but this is deeper. Laudna is shaken.

“Wasn’t he a member of the Ruby Vanguard?”

“He was confused, just like the rest of us. Angry at the gods.” Laudna’s eyes flicker to the glowing red moon. Her fist, clenched in her hair, tightens. “And I killed him.”

Imogen steps closer. “We’ve all killed people.”

Laudna shakes her head. Her voice hardens once more. “I don’t begrudge you the shopping or fraternizing with royalty or, or whatever else it was,” she says lowly, “But we didn’t have that. We didn’t save a toy store or home-cooked breakfasts. We spent every moment fighting to get back to you. And now,” she swallows, “we must reckon with the cost.”

She is utterly exhausted; Imogen can see in the dim light. Although bone-weary and at her wits’ end, Laudna’s elegant cheekbones curl with shadows that twist and hide in her skirts. Hunched and fearful as she is, Laudna is still hauntingly beautiful. Something warms in Imogen’s chest.

“You did what you had to do to survive,” she says, “No one can fault you for that.”

“I’m sorry.” Laudna’s voice breaks, fracturing in tandem with Imogen’s heart, and she sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Laud, no–” Imogen crouches next to her, yearning to touch, to take Laudna in her arms and bite and hiss and growl at anyone who dares approach. She restrains herself, carefully plucking Pâté from her shoulder and setting him on the ground between them. He turns to her skeptically as if to say, Really? After what she said? Imogen nudges him in Laudna’s direction. He sniffs, beak in the air, and ruffles his fur before bounding to Laudna’s ankles and putting his weird, cold little dead rat toes against her shin. She ignores the pawing fragment of her soul, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” Laudna mutters, “I must seem…I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Laudna begins incredulously, “I–”

“You survived,” Imogen reiterates, “against gods and people powerful enough to destroy them.” She sighs, “I sent you a message every day, you know? Sometimes more than once, if I’m honest, ‘till my nose bled and Deanna had to patch me up.” Imogen offers a half-smile. “All I got was static. I just had to hope you were out there, somewhere, lookin’ for me, too.”

Laudna looks as if she might melt into herself, refusing to look at Imogen. Her shoulders shake, and she confesses with a gasp, “She’s back. I brought her back.”

Imogen’s blood chills, but her tone remains neutral. “Who, Laud?”

At last, Laudna meets her gaze, eyes wide and wet and horror-struck. “Delilah.”

The name hangs between them like a stone ready to drop and shatter and bury itself into their flesh. Searing rage erupts in Imogen’s veins.

“I’m sorry,” Laudna shrinks back, “I’m so sorry. To all of you. You all gave so much to–to find me. And–”

“It’s not your fault,” Imogen interjects.

“–and I wasn’t…I was weak. I lost control.”

“Laudna,” Imogen cuts her off with the steely calm of a thunderstorm on the horizon. She cannot afford to process this now, not when Laudna is trembling in an alley. Not when Laudna, unmoored and terrified, needs her to be an anchor. No, Imogen will save her questions and unfiltered anger, for another time. A time when Laudna is safe and warm and at no risk of coming unraveled in her hands. When Laudna is in a place to know Imogen’s wrath is not, could never be, directed at her.

“Laudna,” Imogen repeats, because she cannot bear the thought of her not understanding, “this is not your fault. None of this.” She does reach out, then, offering a lifeline should Laudna choose to accept it. She does, hesitantly, as if waiting for Imogen to recoil. Her fingers are cool, bird-light against Imogen’s red-scarred palm. Laudna seems to notice at the same time.

“Imogen,” she exclaims, words still tear-tinged and quivering, “your hands. They’re–are you alright?”

“Oh, they–they don’t hurt, usually. Promise. I’m fine.”

“I should have–I’m sorry, I suppose I was–”

“Laudna,” Imogen interrupts again, not unkindly, “please.”

It’s then that Laudna seems to notice Pâté clawing his way up her skirt. She scoops him up and holds him to her, murmuring apologies into his fur.

“‘S’okay, boss,” he rasps, squished against his maker’s chest, “I can’t hold a grudge.”

They sit like that, hand-in-hand, hand-on-rat, until the easy stroke of Imogen’s thumb against Laudna’s has smoothed out the worst of the jagged edges. Until the tension falls from Laudna’s spine and she relaxes into Imogen’s touch.

“The others are surely wondering where we’ve gone.”

Imogen shrugs, snorts, “There’re so many people at that table I think they’d hardly notice two missing.”

“Still,” Laudna says, “we ought to get back.”

“Do you want to?” It’s her choice. It always will be if Imogen can help it.

Laudna considers. “I think I’d rather like to hear the end of Chetney’s story from the Savalirwood.”

“Oh gods,” Imogen groans, flushing at the memory, “no, you don’t.”

“Fearne and Deanna, hm?”

“Best to let them tell it.”

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korrasamibottles · 5 months

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???

#OKAY i'll stop spamming now. but this was very very very fun. thank you anon for sending me down this rote rabbithole #tlok #ruins of the empire #korra #kuvira #asami sato

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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really obsessed with soulmate au’s recently and it got me thinking… what if john’s soulmate was part of the boys? a girl trying to kill him with an entire group of people also trying to kill him… and he’s fated to her? could picture him finding out and just putting his hands on his hips while turning his back to her and doing that click chuckle thing. just in utter disbelief but it is definitely on track for fate’s little play with him and his life lolol

Oohhh, you know, I've never played much with the soulmate au concept, but this struck me just right because I can so clearly see the slow, building meltdown that strikes him when that reveal drops.

The mirthless laugh, shaking his head, the hapless gesture to the ceiling before his hands drop. "Of course. Of course it's you. Why wouldn't it be? I mean—Christ, it makes sense, doesn't it? Every single person who was supposed to love me has-has fucked it, so why—" he keeps cutting into this escalating, unsettling laughter. There's nothing funny about it: you're sure that you're watching someone lose the last shred of their sanity in real time. "Why would my 'soulmate'-", he says, miming big, dramatic quotation marks. "-be any different?" That manic grin has shifted into tight baring of his teeth, a vicious sneer. He closes in on you, stands so near you can feel the heat of his breath when he hisses, "I should put you in the fucking dirt with the rest of them."

It should be terrifying, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the glassiness of his eyes. The sheer devastating heartbreak of it all, telegraphed clear as day in the way he carries himself. His eyes flare red, sizzling up the tears before they can fall. "And then you really will be all alone," you say. Maybe it's the hopelessness of the moment, maybe it's the shock of learning for yourself that he's supposed to be your one and only, but you feel numb. Frayed in a way you didn't know you could be. The crimson light of his eyes disappears in an instant, revealing surprise, followed by a wounded kind of look, before that familiar seething rage returns. "We'll see about that."

#oh man i could get carried away with this real easy #i did here lbr #i guess it's up to the author just how connected soulmates are and how that kind of reveal happens #idk i'm a baby to the genre #but it would be very fun to write a situation where HL wants to strangle them just as much as he wants to snuggle up in their lap #they're at odds in every conceivable way but there is this soul deep pull to one another #coming to terms with the fact passion is the root of BOTH hatred and love #also the idea that HL was sincerely holding out hope all this time that his One Perfect Person was out there waiting for him wounds ME #only to be struck down by the realization that oh they ALSO want him dead #aaaaaaAAAAAAA #i'm sorry i'm so rambly today lmao thank you for the ask!!! i'm gonna have brain worms all day #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #homelander x reader #homelander x you #soulmate au #my writing

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inkykeiji · 1 year

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Sweet cream w/ flawless Tomu hehe ^-^ sending you love on this Sunday evening <3

prompt: sweet cream warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, cum feeding/eating, snowballing, daddy kink words: 1k

also hehe thank u so much anon bb <33 sending u lots of love back!!

“Is baking with cum possible?”

It’s probably one of the dumbest questions you’ve ever asked, uttered with a sleepy curiosity only a few moments after Tomura’s stuffed you full of his own, your head rising and falling with the erratic breaths of his sweaty chest.

“Anything is possible,” he snorts. “It’s more a question of why you’d want to.”

“Because s’just…It’s just leaking outta me,” you whine, pout weighting your voice, hips wiggling a little in accentuation. “Seems like such a waste.”

It’s true—you can feel it, dribbling out of your fluttering little hole in drooling dollops, thick and sticky cream smearing across your inner thighs as they clench in a feeble attempt to halt more from escaping.

Tomura chuckles, the sound somehow both fond and patronizing, his voice vibrating against your ear.

“Well, I don’t think there’s any way for me to scoop it out of you and save it for later use,” he begins, shuffling your body a little so he can nudge your head with his shoulder, gazing down at you with twinkling eyes, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But I can feed you some, if that’s what my baby really wants...”

And, oh, the gasp you emit is absolutely precious, airy and light and full of want.

“Yes,“ your breathing out, voice barely above a murmur. “Yes, please, Daddy.”

And it’s so intimate, Daddy foregoing using his fingers like he normally does to favour his tongue as his tool this time, head settling between your spread legs to scatter a few kisses along your pubic bone, sure to press an extra gentle kiss to your still swollen clit.

A cute squeal catches in your throat when his tongue prods at your hole, almost hesitantly so, as if testing the waters before it delves in, working its way past the tight ring of muscle and into your sweet cunt. It coils in on itself, forming a small hollow and using the tip to fill it with what’s left of the viscous substance.

Your hips push towards his face, instinctive and eager for more—get it all, Daddy! I want it all!— and he growls into you, large palms flattening over your hipbones and pushing, pressing you back into the mattress.

He takes his time, diligent and dedicated in his quest of licking you clean, of giving his baby every last drop of what she’s so desperately craving, what she’s so desperately needing, the point of his tongue digging into your silky walls and scraping them clean.

Finally, he’s sitting back on his heels, chin and jaw a shimmering mess, and you push yourself up on your elbows, yearning, mouth opened wide and waiting.

With a playful roll of his eyes, he leans forward, fists dimpling the mattress on either side of your body, and slots his mouth against yours.

The flavour is strong, so tart and bitter it borders on sour, a stark contrast to his inherently sugar-infused saliva. But it’s good, too, tastes twining together to create something new, something so distinctly him.

Your tongues flatten, grinding against one another in slow, rhythmic motions, languid and lazy as his cum stains your mouth, as you soak him up and swallow him down, starved for everything he can bestow to you.

And it’s so messy, drool oozing from the corners of your lips to slick your chins, rendering everything sticky and slippery, skin gliding against one anothers. Thick threads of saliva hang heavy between your mouths, glimmering in the dim light as he eventually manages to pull his tongue away from you, smirking a little at the discontented whine that sounds at the back of your throat.

“It’s, um...O-On my thighs, too, Daddy,” you tell him, stuck somewhere between dreamy and shy, cheek half-hidden in the mattress as you gaze up at him through lidded eyes.

“Greedy girl,” Tomura says, but his voice drips with adoration, head dipping between your legs again to drag his tongue along your inner thighs, thick muscle sopping up the half-dried strokes of cum, the outer layers of each smudge having begun crusting from the cool air, the heat of Tomura’s mouth melting them again.

There isn’t much left on his tongue, but he gives it to you anyway, laughing a little behind sealed lips at the cute grabby hands you make as he rises again, fingers clamping over his shoulders and tugging.

Your mouth is already open again, little tongue stuck out as far as it can be, entitled and expectant, and Tomura allows his own tongue to unfurl from his mouth, tinged with his essence, leaning down to drag it, slow and purposeful, against your own.

Your tongue curls, wrapping around his and sucking it between your teeth, lips puckered and cheeks hollowed. It pulls a soft noise of surprise from him, crimson eyes instinctually snapping open before his lips spread into a smile against your own, mouth going lax and allowing you to continue your suckling and slurping, swallowing every last drop of anything he has to give you.

—

As it turns out, baking with cum is indeed possible, and the internet is full of interesting recipes, stumbling across one for cummy crepes that utilizes semen in it’s sweet cream filling and deciding that it sounded good.

Tomura isn’t nearly as into the idea as you are—Whaddya want me to do, jerk off into a bowl for you? Well, can you help me?—but is willing to give it a try anyway, allowing you to pump his cock hard and fast until he’s spurting ropes of cream onto a small mountain of powdered sugar (You cum so much, Daddy!).

The crepes are a miserable failure—you could’ve really used Kurogiri’s guidance, but there’s no way he would’ve approved of your special ingredient—the batter too thick to be spread into an even, thin pancake, but the cream filling itself turns out pretty magnificent, whipped and light and oh-so-sweet.

Lounging on the balcony as the sinking sun paints the rippled clouds in shades of magenta, you and Tomura take turns dipping your fingers into the fluffy mountain of filling and gathering peaked dollops on the tips, letting one another suck the other’s digits clean.

“Alright,” Tomura’s saying as he swipes an index finger along the bottom of the bowl, collecting the last bit of remaining cream on the pad, sticky tongue running along his bottom lip, chasing phantom sugar. “Maybe we should try cooking with my cum more often.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x smut #shigaraki x you #very fun anon thank u for this!!!#word doesn't appear until the end hehe

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