#kora answers

[kora-kat]

Your tma comics are so funny I love the concept that the Eye just dumps the most random information into Jon's head 😂

Thanks! I am just obsessed with the concept of the dread horrors just bringing nuisance to their avatars

[bloodcoveredgf]

i need to make horror uquizzes...... i need to make them really good...

[loremori]

Shinobi no Ie: House of Ninjas TV series (2024) Everyone was fantastic in this series: Yosuke Eguchi as Soichi, the patriarch of the Tawara family of ninjas. Tae Kimura as Yoko, the mother. Kengo Kora as Gaku, older brother. Kento Kaku as Haru, the second son. Aju Makita as Nagi, the only daughter. Nobuko Miyamoto as Taki, the grandmother. Tenta Banka as Riku, the youngest son.

[the-rini-rush]

hey, i was looking for Kora, i havent seen her ANYWHERE. and i know she doesnt have a stream scheduled today...

-Grace

(idk who this is addressed to but ill put carla)

really? i just saw her running down to Heartslabyul, maybe you'll have luck there.

actually, let me tag along~ ♦︎

- carla

[hidingoutbackstage]

ashley and tucker !

Wow who could’ve foreseen that I’d get this ask when I ask people to send me blorbos?

I love Ash so much I had to answer for og her bc remake her is so NOT Ashley that it fucking hurtsssss. Tucker got close to bingo a couple times but no dice. Get that man out of canon nowww he deserves so much better

[saucetail]

Thank you for sharing. Can you donate for my son’s treatment and to help my family? I am very sorry that I am asking this of you

Of course!

I donated 100kr, and I hope you reach your goal as soon as possible!

[steveyockey]

can you post the gif of the two dean's talking to each other while looking insane. pls?

anything for you 🫰🏻

[trucbiduleschouettes]

for any oc you want!

🌲 How deeply does your OC feel? Are they typically empathetic or do they have a hard time connecting with others in this way? What are they like when offering support and comfort to someone they care for?

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

🌸 What are some of their favourite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

Thank you for asking Oni! Gonna pick Kora for this one hehe

-

🌲- "I don't really want to connect with people. What's the point? If you're somewhat cool, we'll hit it up I suppose. If not, get off my face."

"...or that'd what I'd like to say. But if Liande hears me say that, she'll laugh and... ah, guess it's ok if she does... 'nyway, I guess I don't really care for people or about connections, but I do have a handful of friends I suppose. And my wife. She makes it really hard to not learn to care and connect a bit more to others though, sometimes. She's better at it than I am. I feel more at ease around her and the brats. It feels... easier to just be. Guess even I can be caught smiling in those cases, heh..."

💫- [ I really like that Kora does her best to appear hard and uncaring, and in many aspects she can be, but she does have a softer side that's pretty easy to see, no matter what she say. I also like the fact that she actually do love dancing and singing and playing music with others- again, she is pretty easy to mellow down as long as it's the handful of people she care about and trust]

🌸- I love my wife, of course. You would too, if you met Liande. I also love her cooking. Good thing too, considering it's part of her job. I love the stupid brats we look after, sometimes. Gotta keep them safe. I enjoy festivals. Not the stupid poshy kind with their stiff back and lack of fun- the proper kind. Loud, always shifting, full of life. I like to become stronger, too. Prove I'm useful for something...I just love being alive, for however long I still have left.

(she seems to grow embarassed and cuts the conversation short)

[somelazyassartist]

Fuck it maybe I will multiclass Kora into a class that objectively sucks!! We're a heist team it's not like we do much combat anyways maybe I'll just do it for the Flavor of it All, you know, to be a Silly Little Guy.

[doomednarrative]

🎬 1989 + 🎵 1977

Gotta go with "Bill and Ted" for favorite movie of 1989 obviously!! And its a tie between "The Name Of The Game" by Abba or "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac for song of 1977~

[sweetblccd]

“There will be mayhem.” To: Kora From: @werebull

Kora's hands still there work deep within rich soil. Raising her head with a heavy sign, she brushes a stubborn strand of hair out of her eyes. "I really hope it's the gentle, fun kind. I'm not a big fan of the violent kind these days. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of your clothes?"

[kora-kat]

(Context: I've just read your "The Archavists are scavengers" post)

(Grabs you by the shoulders) birdman!Jon... birdman!Jon. I can do this, I can't philza minecraft that mf too, my irl's will call me cringe (/sily)

Bird that man! I've already bird'ed philza. In this blog, we embrace cring bro

[harleychick91]

Get A Room (rated M)

Even though they’re on opposite sides, what happens when a jealous Super and an equally jealous Luthor see the other with a potential romantic partner? Crack fic written by Warlord1981. I did some edits and posted for them.

Chapter One

Lena had fucked up, it's not something she admits often, but there are times when even Lena Luthor has to admit, "I fucked up.”

Now you may be asking how Lena Luthor, COO of LuthorCorp, sister to Lex Luthor the most loved man on earth could have possibly fucked up so bad she's panicking and hoping to whoever is listening that this is just a bad dream. Well, the answer to that is Kara Danvers. Yep, Lena Luthor fucked up because of a beautiful, blonde, walking ray of sunshine who just happens to be a two faced Superhero former best friend. Therein lies Lena's mistake, she forgot exactly who Kora Zor-El was at her core. A proud daughter of Kryptonian elite. A lesson she unfortunately forgot that Andrea Rojas just learned.

All day they taunted Kara. Lena had found it rather amusing how uncomfortable Kara seemed as Andrea hung on Lena's arm during the LuthorCorp event that Kara had been assigned to cover.

Lena would never intentionally hurt Kara, but she had agreed to help Lex with Leviathan by keeping Andrea close. Andrea had no way of knowing Lena hated her far, far more than Kara. Kara didn't know that either and Lena was not about to tell her that. But Lena did enjoy the evidence that Kara was jealous, it helped her know that Kara still cared and perhaps she went a tad too far in getting that satisfaction. So maybe it was a mistake having Kara interview them, Andrea is the one who decided to taunt Kara with how close she and Lena were getting. Okay, so it may have been going a tad far to ask Kara to hold her drink while she accepted Andrea's request to dance, it was Andrea who ordered Kara to include it in the article. But even Lena can agree, Andrea may have crossed a line in telling Kara she doesn't think Kara and Lena ever looked like they were as happy at these events as Lena and Andrea look now. It was then, in that moment, Lena Luthor nearly crapped her panties because Kara Danvers smiled.

Oh yes, she smiled. Instead of the painful reminder that Lena thought that comment would make, Kara's grin was dark and if Lena was a betting woman, Kara Danvers just channeled her best Lena impression and Andrea froze for just a second…

Finish reading chapter one and follow for more on AO3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58047181

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Eleven

Love in the Dark: You discover an intense connection with a dream lover, yearning for a love beyond physical appearances. As your encounters blur the lines between the waking world and the Dreaming, your grapple with the complexities of desire, friendship, and mortality. Can you truly love in the dark?

Warnings: More Angst.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.6k

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Matthew swoops back into the Waking World, landing once again on your window sill. His heart pounds in his chest, fear and hope warring within him. The moonlight bathes your apartment in a soft glow, and he strains his eyes to see any sign of you.

The light is on inside. The blinds are slightly askew, allowing him to see a sliver of the interior. A flicker of movement catches his eye and he holds his breath, waiting. And then he sees you.

You're there, sitting on the couch with a cup of something warm cradled between your hands. Your face is drawn, shadows under your eyes speaking volumes about the toll recent events have taken on you. But you're there. You're home.

Relief washes over Matthew and he caws softly in reassurance, though you can't hear him. He watches as you take a sip from your cup, then set it down on the coffee table with a sigh. You lean back against the couch, your gaze distant and lost in thought.

Summoning his courage, Matthew taps on the window with his beak. The soft sound catches your attention and you turn towards the window, your eyes widening in surprise when you see him. Slowly, you rise from the couch and approach the window, opening it just enough to let him perch on the sill inside.

"Matthew?" you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Matthew ruffles his feathers, his beady eyes full of concern. "Kora, what's going on? Everyone misses you. You look like you haven't slept in ages and I am worried that Fēlix is going to cry Petunia out of her treehouse! What is going on!?"

The raven's exasperated cries echo in the silence of your apartment. Matthew, ever the audacious bird, eyes you expectantly. But instead of a biting retort, a tired sigh slips past your lips.

"Matthew," you begin, your voice quiet and strained. "You don't understand."

He cocks his head to one side, scrutinizing you. The audacity of his stare feels heavy in the room, but you're too weary to feel truly bothered.

"Then make me understand! Okay? I used to be human, remember? Talk to me!"

A hollow laugh escapes you. "You want me to talk? Fine." Your red rimmed eyes, highlighted by the bags beneath, simmer with pained rage. "Mortals and the Dreaming do not mix," You tell him, your nose flaring and your eyes burning yet again. "Me and the dreaming don't mix!" The words hang in the air between you, heavy and fraught with unspoken meaning. You see Matthew's beady eyes widen as he digests your words.

"What the hell are you talking about, Kora?" he finally squawks, concern lining his voice. "What the fuck happened that had you running out of the fucking throne room?"

Your eyes, your pained eyes, which hold so much anguish and heartbreak, went dead.

"I opened my eyes, Matthew, I opened my eyes," you say, hollowness within your voice making the raven's heart drop. With that you harshly shut the window, blocking him from speaking more.

Matthew's words ring in your ears long after he has gone. You lean against the window, the cool glass soothing against your fevered forehead. "What the fuck happened?" He had asked a fair question. One that deserves an answer, even if it's only to yourself.

You trudge back to your couch, the weight of the world on your shoulders. Your gaze falls on the half-drunk cup of coffee sitting on the table, its warmth long gone. Like a puppet with its strings cut, you sink onto the couch, burying your face in your hands.

The silence of your apartment wraps around you like a shroud. In its embrace, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You remember his voice, not Morpheus's royal tone but his softer, intimate timbre, as it whispered sweet nothings in your ear during stolen moments of ecstasy.

Your fingers trace over the place where his hands had caressed within your dreams. The way he would wrap an arm around you as if to protect you from everything outside your shared bubble of anonymous bliss.

But now...

Now that bubble is shattered.

You sit up straighter on the couch, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You need to be strong. You've been through worse and survived. You'll survive this too. But you didn't want to have to.

"I opened my eyes," you murmur into the silence, repeating the words you'd told Matthew earlier. The truth of it settles heavy in your chest. The dream lover who had captured your heart wasn't just any dream or nightmare... he was Dream himself. Lord Morpheus. The ruler of all dreams and nightmares, not just a creation of one.

You could live with spending your life within the arms of a dream or nightmare during your sleeping hours. You could live with that because somehow you could make it work. But not with an Endless. He is unobtainable because he isn't a dream or nightmare. He isn't made to be your own.

A tear slips down your cheek, trailing a wet path down to your chin before falling onto your lap. But there are no more tears after that one— you've cried enough for one night.

"I opened my eyes," you say again, this time with more resolve. "And I will keep them open.

It rains the next week, beginning on the night of Sunday and carrying well into Wednesday where you are numbly going through motions at work. You have several meetings to attend for marketing and sales and profit. Monotony.

You sit in the meeting, eyes glazed over as the presenter drones on about market segmentation and target demographics. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting harsh shadows across the faces of your colleagues. You try to focus on the PowerPoint slides, but the words blur together into an incomprehensible jumble.

Your mind keeps drifting back to the Dreaming, to him. The ache in your chest throbs with every heartbeat, a constant reminder of what you've lost. You clench your fists under the table, nails digging into your palms as you try to keep yourself in the present moment.

"Kora, what do you think about this strategy?" Your boss's voice cuts through your reverie, and you snap to attention. All eyes in the room are on you, expectant and curious.

You clear your throat, scrambling to recall what had just been said. "I think it's a solid approach," you begin, hoping your voice sounds more confident than you feel. "But we should also consider..."

As you speak, you feel a flicker of something at the edge of your consciousness. A whisper, a caress, a fleeting sensation that sends goosebumps racing across your skin. For a moment, you could swear you feel his presence, as if he's standing right behind you.

But when you turn your head, there's nothing there. Just the blank wall of the conference room and the puzzled faces of your coworkers. You shake your head, pushing down the surge of longing that threatens to overwhelm you.

"...consider the potential risks," you finish, proud of how steady your voice remains. Your boss nods, satisfied with your input, and the meeting continues.

You force yourself to pay attention, to take notes and contribute when called upon. But all the while, your heart aches with the knowledge that no matter how hard you try, you can't escape the pull of the Dreaming. Of him.

The meeting ends, and you gather your things with shaking hands. As you step out into the hallway, you feel a gust of wind brush past you, carrying with it the scent of night-blooming jasmine and something uniquely him.

It’s always been him.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you whirl around, searching for the source. But there's nothing there. Just the empty hallway and the distant sound of footsteps echoing off the linoleum. With a heavy sigh, you turn and head back to your desk, the weight of your heartache settling once more upon your shoulders. You have work to do, a life to live. Why couldn't your mind leave you in peace?

Rain pelts against your skin, drenching you in seconds as you walk home. You can feel your clothes sticking to your body, the fabric heavy and sodden. But you don't care. There's something cleansing about the rain, something that makes you feel as if it could wash away all the pain and heartache. You tilt your face towards the sky, letting the cool droplets splash against your cheeks.

Your shoes squelch against the wet pavement, each step sending tiny ripples through the puddles forming on the sidewalk. Your hair is plastered to your head, rivulets of water streaming down your back. But still, you walk on.

People rush past you, umbrellas bobbing as they hurry to escape the downpour. They give you wide berths, shooting you curious looks as they pass. You must look a sight, a woman walking alone in the rain without an umbrella.

A gust of wind sends a spray of water into your face and you close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. It feels like surrendering to the storm, surrendering to the torrent of emotions raging within you.

You can't escape him, not in your dreams and not in your waking hours. He's everywhere and nowhere all at once. He's in the soft murmur of the wind through the trees, in the warmth of the sun on your skin, in the sound of rain falling on a tin roof.

But he's also in the silence that follows a blissful embrace after a tryst, in the space beside you where he should be occupying, in every moment that now feels empty without his echoing presence. Your heart clenches with longing and regret, with unspoken words and unachievable dreams. The rain feels like a mirror to your soul, wild and untamed, full of turmoil and beauty all at once.

As you turn onto your street, a particularly strong gust of wind nearly knocks you off your feet. You brace yourself against it, squinting against the onslaught of rain. Your home looms ahead, a beacon of warmth and safety amidst the storm. Rather than glumly march to the front door, you decide to grab your neighbors tricycle and drag it into the safety of the gated alley between your homes.

You leave the tricycle by your neighbors back door and turn to head to your own, curling your fingers into your palm as numbness begins to emerge. You are mere steps from your back door when the air changes in the small alley and you pause.

The wind picks up again, whipping your wet hair across your face. A chill races down your spine that has nothing to do with the rain. You turn slowly, the familiar presence behind you making your heart pound in your chest.

There he stands, in the shadow of your apartment building. Morpheus. You almost believe you are hallucinating, but his form is solid and rain is striking his body. Dripping from his midnight hair, running down string cheekbones.

"Kora," he begins, his voice a soft rumble that makes your entire body tremble. "May we speak?"

His formality makes you scoff despite the pounding of your heart. You cross your arms over your chest, feeling oddly defiant despite your soaked clothes, tangled hair, and raw heart.

"Go ahead," you reply, raising an eyebrow at him. "It's not like I'm going to wake up." You can see the flinch his eyes make, even if the action does not physically appear. Your words hurt him and even though your heart still feels raw, you don't feel joy in his reaction.

His gaze pierces through the veil of rain, capturing yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. "Kora," he implores, the plea in his voice wrapping around your heart. "Let us speak where you are not exposed to the elements."

His concern for your wellbeing, real or feigned, sends a wave of bitterness washing over you. Your fingers tighten into fists at your sides as you take a step closer to him, the rain plastering your hair to your forehead.

"No," you say, your voice cutting through the roar of the storm. "We talk here, Morpheus. Out in the rain. Or not at all."

His displeasure is palpable in the charged air between you. His lips press into a tight line and his gaze hardens. But you don't back down. You won't let him dictate the terms of this conversation. This is your realm, not his. You start to turn away, ready to retreat into the sanctuary of your home when his hand shoots out, gripping your arm. His touch sends an electric jolt through you, freezing you in place.

The rain pelts down on the both of you, yet the world around seems to fade into insignificance. It's just you and him, your gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. In a swift movement, he pins you against the side of your building, his hand still gripping your arm while the other one rests lightly against the brick wall beside your head. You breath heavily and wonder if he plans on stealing your sight like he had every time before.

And yet his gaze still holds yours, the stormy skies reflected in his eyes. The moment stretches out, the only sound the rain drumming against the pavement and your own heart hammering in your chest. Then, with a suddenness that leaves you breathless, his lips are on yours.

Shock ripples through you as his mouth moves over yours, his kiss passionate and demanding. Your eyes widen in surprise but you don't pull away. You can't. His presence is overwhelming, a storm within the storm. He is kissing you and you can see him. Your hands shoot up to cradle his jaw, your fingers trembling as they touch his skin, warm and real beneath your touch. It is almost laughable when your eyes shut on their own accord.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that steals your breath away, each kiss a desperate plea, an unspoken promise. His fingers curl around your arm, his grip tight and possessive. His other hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you.

Rainwater trickles down your face, mixing with the salty taste of his lips. His mouth moves against yours, warm and insistent. The cool rain pattering against your skin contrasts with the heat radiating from him, making you shiver in response. Then his hand moves from your waist to cup the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your wet hair. He tilts your head back, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, drawing a weak whimper from deep within your throat.

Despite the rain soaking you to the bone, you feel warmth spreading through you from where his body is pressed against yours. His hand at the back of your neck tightens its hold on you as he pulls away from the kiss. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look up at him, breathless and dazed.

His gaze is intense as he watches you, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that makes your breath hitch in your throat. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away a raindrop that clings to your eyelashes.

"All I want," You whisper out, "Is you. But I can't love you in your dark."

His thumb pauses on your skin, his unwavering stare deepening. A glimmer of... remorse? Comprehension? It vanishes before you can interpret it. His ensuing words are a hushed murmur, almost lost to the rain's rhythmic dance on the pavement. "Then love me in your light."

With his words echoing in your ears, a desperate plea in the pouring rain, you make your choice. Your hands move from his jaw to the sides of his face, fingers splayed wide as you quickly pull his lips back to yours. You make your choice.

Date Published: 10/22/24

Last Edit: 10/22/24

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[hidingoutbackstage]

hi sid ^_^ what are your favorite ice cream flavors? and whats your takes on the RE movies ive never seen them or played the games i just absorb things thru the mutuals

Ooh favorite ice cream flavor I’ve had has probably gotta be red velvet cake ice cream I had on vacation once, not only was it hella yummy but when it started melting all over my hands I looked like I was covered in blood. Lol. Favorite I can have usually would be vanilla/orange swirl w/ rainbow sprinkles (ice cream shop down the road has it 😋)

In terms of the RE movies, I haven’t actually watched the Milla Jovovich ones because from what I’ve seen they take the universe of RE and just put Paul W.S. Anderson’s oc as the main character and like. Why do I care about her? I don’t. I’ve seen the CGI movies which are cool but mid at best, and I’ve seen Welcome to Raccoon which was also pretty mid as an adaptation of the source material

[cressidagrey]

I know you just finished writing Zahra story BUT I am ADDICTED to your writing. I am. SORRY BUT ITS PERFECT! And I’ve read all your FF more than once so… when can we expect the next one? How will it be? SORRY! Take your time but I need answers 😭😭😭😭

Okay, so the next one will be titled The Witching Hour: A Samhain Special 🤗It’s gonna be my first foray into writing ritual magic 😂

It should be published on Thursday. 3 out of 7 pieces are written!

Then there will be my first piece of Cassian writing! Currently doesn’t have a title, but the Series it will belong to will probably be titled “The General and The Ice Princess”. It’s a very smutty one shot between Cassian and an OC that’s Kallias’ little sister named Korinna/Kora.

And then there will be a longer work probably titled “It’s a Love Story” which will be Azriel/Sellyn Drake. But because we know nothing about Sellyn Drake other that he/she/they write smutty books, I’ll probably classify it as Azriel/OC, which is gonna be kinda a spin on Bridgerton Season 3 😂 It’s super cute though!