#this with the grace he does manage when it's not comical and

[undiscovered-horizon]

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[Astarion fixes your torn shirt because he'd hate to go in public next to a fashion catastrophe... Or so he tells himself.]

You're not entirely sure what you're doing. Granted, the technicalities are known to you but it's the details, the swiftness of motion, that escapes you.

Stab, thread, stab, pull

What should be a basic, not complicated life skill, turns into fighting against the inanimate in your hands. The stitching is uneven and doesn't match the original pattern. Neither does the colour of the thread you're using but that is the last of your worries. As long as the hole in your shirt is gone and the garment is wearable again, you're fine with the outcome. Even if it looks... not exactly presentable.

Astarion, however, has a quite different opinion:

"By the Hells, what is that?" he asks with a gasp, a hand flying to cover his mouth. The look of horror on his face would be comical if it wasn't so genuine.

He's standing above you as you sit in front of the campfire in hopes of the light aiding you in your battle against cotton. But no amount of light can cure your inexperienced hands. "Um... my shirt?" you answer hesitantly. What is he going on about?

From a look of shock, his face contorted into a grimace of disgust. Red eyes look between you and the cotton garment lying in your lap. Thankfully, he's able to control his expression as his thoughts begin to wander, picturing himself on top of your thighs instead of the torn shirt. Still appearing unbothered, Astarion manages to shake those fantasies away.

"With that horrendous stitching, it's more of a crime, darling," he continues. Despite his words serving as more of a facade for his vulnerable desires, there's a lot of truth in them: both the colour and the stitching pattern you've chosen are vastly different from the original seams. At least it keeps the material together?

Astarion's strong opinions are the last thing you need right now. You're tired, sore and frustrated to no end. And the whole shirt fiasco is definitely not helping as well as the numerous painful pricks to your fingers. It's hard to keep steady, careful hands when you're exhausted physically and mentally.

"This horrendous stitching, as you called it," you say with a despondent sigh, "is better than having a gaping hole in my clothes. Look, if you're not going to help, just-"

"Help?" he interjects. "My dear, you need a miracle to salvage this." Astarion graces you with a smug chuckle. "Fortunately, I am nothing if not a virtuoso with my hands," he drones his words. The allusion is not lost on you but you're really not in the mood to humour his antics. "Give it to me."

"Suit yourself," you mumble as you hand him the shirt.

"Oh, I will."

And with those words, he leaves for his tent. Still sitting by the fire, you carefully watch Astarion from afar. His thin hands wave the needle with impressive grace and precision. It doesn't seem that he's stitching the garment to just be done with it. The movements of his hands have a certain sense of caring to them.

If you were a little less tired and emotionally spent, you'd probably question his motives - after all, why would he strangely selflessly fix the shirt you wear mostly around camp? Little do you know, Astarion himself is having these very doubts. Maybe one day he'll accept that his concern for your fashion is just a convenient excuse to worm his way into every aspect of your person and life.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion imagnie #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3

[dokidoki-muffin]

BANANA FISH - ASH | SHORTER A lynx in a hood.

Another repost of an old fic as part of Tickletober (trapped) 🤭 Same as last time with a redraw ✨✍💖👌 I hope you enjoy it 🤭💖

___

Summary: Ash is staying over at Shorter’s place and gets his clothes mixed up. Shorter’s try to help his best friend quickly gets out of hand 😅

Notes: Beware ~ lots of tickles ahead 😉 (And cursy words 😂💥) It also contains a tiiiiiny hint of ShorAsh 🤭🙃 (Please excuse any mistakes, English is not my native language 😆) Another fic that is 3 years old! 😂🙈 And long af 😬🤣😲 But since a lot of you seemed to like the last Banana Fish fic I shared from the DokiDoki Timeportal I decided to revisit this one as well 🤗💪✨💖

Word Count: 4754

Shorter couldn't suppress a loud cackle as he turned around on the couch, placing his phone on the coffee table. 

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked the blonde teen, appearing in the doorway to the living room of Shorter's resident in Chinatown, swearing like a trooper. There he was, his genius best friend, who could indeed be impersonated grace, when he wanted to, bundled up in a hoodie that was just way too small, even for his slender frame.

"Well, what does it look like, moron?!" Ash snarled back, desperately trying to free himself from this tiny piece of clothing, looking very much like a lunatic in a straitjacket. He hated to admit it, but he was helplessly stuck.

Curiously approaching the adorable mess that stood in front of him, struggling to bring that hoodie back over his head, Shorter took a closer look.

"Oh..." he noted softly, eventually recognizing the red hoodie Ash was “wearing” as one of Sing's. They must have been mixed up in the laundry somehow. Knowing Ash’s morningly survival capabilities, it didn’t take a lot of deducting skills to visualize how one thing must have led to another.

Ash had been staying over for a few days now, after finally giving in to Shorter's continuous attempts to invite him to his place. To his own surprise, he had ended up enjoying it quite a lot. Somehow he just got swept along by the older boy's upbeat personality, making him feel like a normal fifteen-year-old boy once in a while. But even for a skinny fifteen-year-old boy, this hoodie was a hopeless case. 

"Need a hand?" Shorter asked his friend, who kept on squirming furiously. He even had to swallow down a giggle, seeing Ash blush slightly at these words, averting his eyes in embarrassment. The Blonde truly seemed to hate when he couldn't sort out his problems on his own. But in the end, he didn't have much choice. Displeased, he eventually agreed with a barely visible nod, frustration writ large in his face. 

"But for real now... How did you even manage to get into this thing?" Shorter grumbled in puzzlement as he tried to find a way to free his best friend from this misery, but as it turned out, the hoodie was a lot tighter than he had thought. 

"Trial and success, obviously!" was the sassy reply he received. 

"Pff... I wouldn't exactly call this a success." Shorter had to snicker at the Blonde's choice of words. He knew very well by now that Ash's extraordinary pride was nothing to be taken lightly, but given their situation, it was absolutely comical. 

"Fuck it... This isn't working..." he added after a while, "Put your arms up, they're in the way." Reluctantly following Shorter's call, Ash let out a mewl of discomfort as the Chinese finally managed to pull the hoodie partly over his shoulders, revealing a black sleeveless tank top. His upper body was free, but now he couldn't see, as the hoodie was covering his face, keeping his arms snuggly in place above his head.

Bending over in an attempt to see why Ash was still so perfectly stuck, Shorter ran his fingers along the edge of the hoodie. But his try to figure out where he could get a good grasp on it was suddenly interrupted by a very uncharacteristic squeal. 

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" the Chinese asked, startled by this unfamiliar sound. 

"N-no... Just... get me out of this thing, will ya..." he heard Ash's gaspy voice muffled by the fabric. Shrugging his shoulders, Shorter continued where he left off tracing the hoodie, letting his fingers slowly travel around Ash's stretched up arms. It was a matter of seconds before he was cut off by the next strangled whine that sounded even more pathetic than before, feeling Ash's body twitch away from his hands. 

Driven by almost childlike curiosity, Shorter rolled up the collar of the hoodie to uncover a deeply flustered face, immediately hissing at him on sight.  "What the heck are you doing?! Ouch! You're ripping out my hair!" 

On the one hand, Ash was thrilled to be able to breathe again properly, now that his face was freed. But on the other hand, he couldn't help feeling genuinely triggered looking at the dirty grin Shorter was bearing. Inquisitively analyzing Ash's agitated gaze through those tinted glasses, Shorter decided to drop his question. 

"Could it be... you're ticklish?"

Maybe Ash just felt particularly vulnerable, trapped with his arms up like this. Usually, he would have answered totally calm and collected, but something about Shorter's expression just made him blurt out a panicked, "NO!" 

Much to his disliking, Shorter's grin only grew wider, hearing his angsty little outbreak. 

Quickly trying to regain his composure, Ash put on the sweetest yet confident smile he could summon, elaborating his hasty answer, "I mean, don't be silly. Why would I be-AAHAH-!!" 

Before he could even finish his sentence, a sharp poke to the ribs made the teen jolt in surprise.

"You sure?" Shorter commented, highly amused by the Blonde's hilariously obvious reaction. 

Slowly retreating, staring wide-eyed at two hands eagerly wiggling their fingers in his direction, Ash clearly sensed that he was absolutely screwed. Not waiting for even a single second longer, he just started running. 

"Oooh, bad choice!" he heard Shorter sneer from behind, immediately picking up the chase. 

"Noho! Stay away from mehe!" Ash cried out, surprised by the squeaky sound of his own voice. Shorter wouldn't actually be so mean to use his helpless situation against him, right? He wouldn't actually tickle him now, would he?!

Desperately searching his genius brain for some damn good reason to argue his way out of this mess, Ash started to wonder if he was perhaps just overreacting to this whole situation. It had literally been years since his brother tickled him as a child. Maybe it wasn't even that bad after all this time. Maybe he had even grown out of it by now. 

But he still didn't feel like finding out! 

Especially now, while he was still trapped in that hoodie, limiting his defensive abilities tremendously. 

His heartbeat hammering against his chest, Ash made his way around the coffee table, hoping to bring some distance between him and the stupid idiot running after him, deviously smiling. His efforts were quickly put to waste, though, as Shorter just used the coffee table as a stepping stone to launch himself at the Blonde. 

Laughing at the almost girly shriek that must have echoed through the entire house, as he successfully caught his target, Shorter instantly wrapped his arms around Ash's skinny waist, hugging him tightly against his own body from behind. 

Flooded by a wave of adrenaline, Ash tried to wrestle himself out of Shorter's iron grip, even attempting to kick him in the groin, when he was suddenly distracted by a very unpleasant shiver rushing through his torso. Gasping in shock, he realized Shorter had started skittering his fingers up and down his side while keeping him trapped tightly with his other arm. 

Fuck.  So much for growing out of it. Cursing himself for believing in this wishful phantom even for a tiny little moment, Ash found himself squirming against Shorter's chest, trying to shake off the ticklish sensation that was slowly spreading through his body. Biting his lip to hold back the first giggles that were about to escape his mouth, Ash quickly understood that he was indeed still as ticklish as he had feared. Or was it actually even worse? 

Highly pleased with the reaction he was getting so far, Shorter let his hand travel a little higher, now gently digging his fingers into Ash's lower ribs. 

"Gah! Stohop ihit!!" the Blonde whined in response to that, still trying hard not to crack, but his shaky voice was probably not very convincing. 

"Hm? Why should I stop?" the Chinese asked in return, "Since you're not ticklish, this shouldn't bother you, amirite? :)"

"Or could it be…" Shorter dramatically faked an offended voice, "... that.. you.. lied.. to.. me?" 

Dragging out his sentence on purpose, Shorter accompanied every word with a squeeze from his other hand that was resting dangerously close to Ash's right hip, cracking the teen's facade at last. Involuntarily squeaking at every single touch on his waist, Ash just couldn't keep quiet any longer. Some more fingers gently clawing along his flat stomach eventually made him submit, breaking out into the most adorable giggle fit. 

Hearing this sweet, almost angelic sound for the first time, Shorter had to admit that it caught him completely off guard. He had expected Ash to be a lot more boisterous than that. Lucky for him, the Blonde was facing the other way, so the slight blush rising on those tanned cheeks stayed unnoticed for now. He had seen Ash smile every now and then since they had first met in reform school about a year ago, but hearing the usually rather stoic blonde genius actually laugh, was a first. He couldn't resist the urge to just keep going. 

Curious to find out how ticklish Ash really was, Shorter decided to finally use both hands to attack those vulnerable sides and ribs. Confronted with ten fingers at once now, Ash instantly collapsed back against Shorter's chest, almost knocking off the other's sunglasses with his elbow, his giggling growing louder and louder, slowly transforming into a bright, airy laugh.

"Oh... What's that?" Shorter kept teasing the smaller boy in his arms, "Given you're not ticklish, you sure are laughing a lot."

"Ahaha-! shihihit! Okahay! Lihisten!" Ash tried to argue now, as there was no way to get out of this with physical strength alone, "Youhu've prohoven your poihihint! I am tihicklihish! Nohow let mehe gohoho!" 

Giving an overacted sigh, Shorter pretended to think about Ash's proposal. Not without clawing his way further up the Blonde's torso though, drawing out more high pitched squeals as his fingers reached those clearly perceptible upper ribs. 

"Right you are..." the Chinese commented, faking to be lost in thought, "But on the other hand, you really did lie to me." 

"Ahaokahahahay! I lihihihied!!" Ash cried out in an utterly cute attempt to form coherent sentences through his laughter, "Buhuhut why wouhuld I say yehehehes?!" 

"Hm... Touchè", Shorter admitted snickering, "Worth a shot, but futile. I would have tickled you anyway." 

Not even giving Ash the chance to answer, he chose to suddenly vibrate his fingers against those highly sensitive upper ribs, causing the younger teen to let out a surprised shriek followed by loud squeaky laughter, "NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-!! STAHAHAHAPTHAHAHAT! NOHOHOHOHOHO!!" 

Ash was hopelessly overwhelmed by all those unfamiliar touches. Unlike the Chinese punk, who seemed to bring his big brother vibes everywhere he went, being rather used to things like tickle fights, especially with the younger ones in his gang, Ash knew nothing alike. True, Shorter had been the only person so far who was allowed to touch him, despite his efforts to avoid physical contact with other people, but this was completely different from everything he had expected.

Eventually losing the strength to keep himself upright, his knees started to give in on him. Feeling the sudden extra weight in his arms, Shorter just followed along, sinking down to the floor, letting Ash slip from his hug onto the wooden ground, still shaking and giggling.

Gasping for air, Ash rolled over to the side in a quite pitiful attempt to crawl away from those evil hands when he felt a firm grip on his ankle, pulling him backward. 

Squeaking in panic, as his body slid across the floor, his tank top riding up halfway in the process, he ended up being straddled by the taller boy, keeping him securely pinned to the ground lying on his side. 

"Let's see if your lower half can keep up," the Chinese chirped, smirking back over his shoulder, as he was facing Ash's legs now, lifting the one he was still holding a little upwards. 

Without further warning, he started squeezing and pinching the Blonde's thigh in search of new sensitive spots, causing Ash to explode with frantic laughter on the first touch. 

He couldn't even see what Shorter was doing down there. All he knew was that it tickled like hell. All of it. He felt those squeezing fingers wander up and down his entire leg, but there wasn't a single inch that was immune to these new tormenting sensations. 

"AHAHAHASHIHIHIT-! NAHAHA-!! WHAHAHATAREYOUHU-! FUHUHUCK!!"

Desperately winding his body, Ash tried to shake off Shorter's assaulting hand, slowly making its way to his inner thigh, kicking his legs as much as he could under the other's grappling hold, but he wasn't going anywhere. He could do nothing but submit to this maddening feeling, squirming and laughing his head off. 

Just when he thought it could not get any worse, Ash suddenly felt five nails scratching across the bare skin of his knee, half exposed by his signature ripped jeans, screaming out with a yet unreached pitch of ticklish laughter.

"Oha! Seems like I found a weak spot!" the Chinese declared in a sing-song voice, as he began pinching around the kneecap, even letting go of Ash's ankle to dig his remaining fingers into the back of the same knee. 

Failing miserably to curl himself into a ball of defense, Ash felt like combusting into flames. Every fiber of his body was screaming one single thing that soon found its way to his mouth, "GYAAAAHAHAH-! NOHOT THEHEHERE!! PLEHEHEHEAHASE!! NOHOHOTHEHEHEHEHEREHE!!"

"Holy shit...", Shorter commented this renewed outburst in awe, chuckling to himself. He almost got that knee, he was tormenting with so much ambition, shoved into his face, as the blonde gang leader was thrashing wilder than ever under his merciless attack. 

He had suspected Ash to be ticklish for quite a while now, but he was genuinely surprised by the Blonde's sensitivity. The only person he knew, who was even more ticklish than this, was the owner of that red hoodie, which had granted him such a precious opening.

Letting up on Ash's leg, Shorter turned back around, giving those delicate hips a few squeezes on the way, noting the exquisite reaction he got from that for the next time. 

Ash was panting heavily beneath him as he effortlessly flipped him over on his back, settling down on the Blonde's slender waist, beholding a most adorable sight. Two green eyes glistening with tears of laughter behind a few very messy strands of hair covering Ash's brightly flushed face.

"You... traitor…", Ash huffed, his chest still heaving up and down, his face forming an unwitting pout, "You… said… you would… help me! And this… is what I get?!" 

"Oh, I will help you, don't worry!" Shorter cooed sweetly in reply, gently poking two fingers up and down all over the Blonde's upper body, "But I just can't let such a perfect opportunity go to waste." 

"Oppohortuhunity myhyhy ahahass!" Ash hissed back before he dissolved again in squeaky giggles, desperately trying to hide his face in his arm.

Most likely, he could have freed himself from this accursed hoodie by now if it wasn't for these greedy hands that kept roaming across his body. Every time he felt like getting a grasp on it to work himself out of this miserable cloth prison, a new wave of ticklish sensation flooded his nerves, draining his limbs from every last ounce of strength.  

Digging in the younger teen's sweet laughing face, he could now actually see for the first time, Shorter took a brief moment to enjoy this precious view. Who would have thought that Ash's usually so pale face could light up with so much color. Or that his nose might scrunch up in such a cute way, as his eyes would squeeze shut almost entirely. 

Realizing that he should probably stop tormenting his best friend soon if he intended to keep their relationship alive, Shorter decided to move in for his final attack. Seeing Ash trapped below him in this totally helpless position, his mind kept circling around one single question. How ticklish might those bare armpits be. 

Quickly grasping what was about to befall him, Ash started to shake his head in panic, "No.. Oh hell no... Please! Anything but that!!" 

"I was wondering... Is this your most ticklish spot?" Shorter asked with an innocent tone, watching in amusement how those green eyes suddenly grew wide, while the Blonde's struggling intensified, as he kept lowering his wiggling fingers towards their new target.

"Nooononononowaaait! Pleeeahahahase! Noohohoho! I cahahan't! Stahahap!!" 

Shorter couldn't hold back a giggle of his own, his hands now hovering just a few centimeters above those wide open armpits, "Why are you laughing already? I'm not even touching you!" 

"Ihihi knohohohow! Fuhuhuck ohohohoff!" Ash whined back, shivering helplessly under this impending attack. This was truly humiliating. Not only was he actually still horribly ticklish, but his body would now even betray him in the most embarrassing way possible. Why did he feel so awfully vulnerable to a little teasing, giggling like an idiot every time those fingers dipped down so deceivingly, just to stop before actually touching him? 

Nearly bursting with curiosity now, Shorter wasn't able to hold back any longer as he finally connected his fingers with the soft skin of Ash's defenseless armpits. 

It was nothing more than a few gentle grazes meant to test him, but Ash was already gone. Arching his back, desperately squirming under Shorter's lightly scratching nails, he immediately descended into uncontrollable laughter mixed with more or less coherent pleas. 

"Oh dear…" the older teen kept teasing him with a sickeningly sweet tone, "I figured you'd be quite sensitive here... That's the spot that gave you away in the first place... But if you can't even handle that much, how're you gonna deal with this?" 

Applying more and more pressure, Shorter witnessed how Ash was just falling apart in his hands. 

"EYAAAAHAHAHAHAHAA-FUHUHUHUH-!! STAPSTAPSTAHAHAHAH-!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Eventually, kissing coherent words goodbye, Ash felt like going crazy. This was just pure evil. Neither could he defend himself against those tormenting fingers, nor could he escape this hellish sensation driving him to the brink of hysterics.

Shorter was torn. As much as he enjoyed all these sweet new sounds he was eliciting from his best friend, sending the blonde teen back and forth from childlike squeaking to panicky shrieks just by alternating the strength of his touch, he didn't fail to notice that Ash's voice became more and more wheezy. Not intending to torture the young genius into oblivion, he decided to back off, giving Ash the chance to come back from his ticklish subspace.    

Gently placing a few last pokes across his sides and stomach, Shorter finally retreated his hands, pulling the teen's black tank top back down on the way. 

Ash was dead beat. 

Gasping for much-needed air, he just kept lying there, a little stream of tears sitting on his bright red cheeks, his head feeling all giddy from laughing so much. He didn't even notice how Shorter used his exhausted state to free him from the red hoodie that had brought this calamity upon him until he received an affectionate ruffle through his messy hair. 

"Don't die on me, will ya?" Shorter commented on this utterly adorable sight. Swinging the tiny red hoodie over his shoulder, the Chinese left the room with a chuckle. 

Slowly opening his eyes again, beholding the artful wooden ornaments on the ceiling through his teary eyes, Ash couldn't tell if he had been lying there for just a few seconds or an eternity. With a tired mewl he slowly managed to raise himself from the floor. His body was still tingling all over as he dropped onto the couch, wiping the last remains of tears from his face, even a little amazed how hot his cheeks felt. They probably had the same shade of red right now as that stupid hoodie.

Still cursing the damn thing in his head, his trail of thought was suddenly interrupted by a piece of clothing dumped onto his head from behind, causing the teen to yelp in surprise. 

"That should be yours now," he heard Shorter's voice before he felt a weight settling down next to him on the couch, "Sorry for the mixup." 

Carefully inspecting the hoodie in his hands before pulling it over his head, Ash couldn't help grumbling out a silent complaint. This had been beyond embarrassing. He didn't even know what to say. 

Noticing the pout on Ash's face, who was clearly trying to avoid any eye contact as he kept staring off into no-man’s-land, Shorter let out a sigh. He had to confess to himself that he got carried away, hearing Ash laugh for the first time. He had learned a lot about the blonde gang leader within the last few days and he couldn't shake the feeling that Ash had really enjoyed being treated like a normal teenager once in a while. 

Yet again, it had taken months and a lot of work to gain Ash's trust and consent to be able to touch him. The longer he kept thinking about it, the more he could feel regret settling down on his chest. 

"You're not... mad at me now... Are you?" Shorter carefully asked, watching the younger teen bury himself deeper into his hoodie. 

Ash didn't say anything. His emerald eyes kept scanning the wooden floor, still trying hard not to look at this best friend. 

After a few more agonizing moments that definitely felt like ages, Shorter eventually perceived a softly mumbled "No..."

Sliding down even deeper against the backrest of the couch, Ash could feel the blush on his cheeks rise once again, a displeased whine escaping his mouth. 

"It's just... This.. is so embarrassing…" the Blonde continued after a while. "I... hate this feeling... When I lose control over my own body..."

"Right... Didn't think 'bout that..." Shorter muttered, a hint of rue finding its way into his voice.   "So..." he warily continued, "Do you... hate being tickled?"

Now looking at the ceiling, Ash took a moment to think about his best friend's assumption. True, he was not at all familiar with this kind of thing, and part way he had been thoroughly convinced that he would die right here on the wooden floor of Shorter's living room, yet it somehow felt like a weight had been lifted off him. Or maybe he was still dizzy from the lack of oxygen…

"I... don't think I really... hate it" Ash eventually concluded his thoughts, "I'm... just not used to it... that's all."

"I see..." Shorter replied with an ever so slight smile returning to his face, sliding a little closer to the blonde teen on his couch, "Then... you mind if I do it again?" 

Startled at the sound of those words, accompanied by a gentle pinch to the side, Ash spun around, his gaze finally meeting with Shorter's through his sunglasses. Once again this day, the Chinese had to swallow down a laugh seeing Ash's expression going from killer stare to annoyed little kitten within seconds.

"Nhg... Have it your way..." the younger teen grumbled at his best friend. Ending their mini staring contest by sharply pointing his index finger against Shorter's forehead, forcing the other to tilt his head back a little, "But I swear on this godforsaken hoodie... If you should ever dare to tell anyone about this, you're gonna go down in history as the ugliest corpse this world has ever seen!

"Fair enough," Shorter chuckled in amusement. Not that he planned on sharing his newly gained precious knowledge anyway.

"Now... About getting used to it..." he suddenly added after a few seconds, briefly enjoying the confusion rising on Ash's face, "... that can be arranged."

Watching with delight how the Blonde's mouth opened and closed without a sound, Shorter used his baffled state to quickly wrap his arms around the younger boy once more. Letting himself fall against the side rest of the couch, Shorter just dragged Ash along with him, eventually trapping the bewildered teen between his legs, with the back against his chest. Not giving him a chance for recovery, he started to scribble his fingers all over Ash's stomach and sides one more time. 

Gasping in response to this new, unexpected attack before dissolving into bubbly giggles, Ash couldn't help but facepalm internally on his level of idiocy. Shorter's intentions were just so obvious most of the time. And yet again somehow that stupid pineapple-head managed to make him lower his guard repeatedly.

"Whahahat the hehell are you dohohihihing?!" Ash whined, struggling to free himself. 

"Well, I asked if I can tickle you again," he heard the Chinese punk happily explain behind his back, "And you said yes."

"Ihihi didn't mehehean rihihigt nohohow!! Youhu jeheherk!!" Ash hissed back through his laughter, desperately trying to grab those tickling hands that kept gently poking and pinching their way across his middle. 

"Oh, sorry! Should I make an appointment then for next time?" Shorter cackled at his own joke while letting one hand travel underneath the red hoodie, now wiggling his fingers over any inch of bare skin he could reach, smiling along with the high pitched squeal he received for that. 

Ash felt like sinking to the very core of this planet. There he was again. Helplessly laughing because of his own damn sensitivity. But somehow, it felt a lot different from before. 

Less torturous. More playful.  Maybe even a tiny little bit enjoyable?  Still, he had more than enough for a single afternoon. 

Making use of his free hands, he mustered up all his remaining strength, gifting Shorter a deadly well-placed elbow to the ribs.

It proved astoundingly effective. 

Panting for air like a fish out of water, the chinese punk instantly sank back into the couch before emitting a pathetic whimper.

"Holy shit... have mercy..." he chuffed after finding his voice again, eagerly trying to rub the throbbing pain out of his ribcage. "That's not... how... a tickle fight works... you little brute!" the older punk wheezed out, frowning at the smaller boy who was still lying in his arms, panting likewise to catch his breath.

"Pah... serves you right!" Ash grumbled back in a devoted attempt to sound offended. But he wasn't able to hide that slight smirk forming on his face as he crossed his arms before his chest after pulling down his hoodie.

Throwing his head back against the side rest of the couch, Shorter let a few moments pass, waiting for his breath to fully return. His ribs were still hurting like hell. Ash sure possessed a lot of strength despite his slimsy look. 

Much to his surprise, though, the Blonde still hadn't moved an inch from this half-assed hug, originally meant to trap him. Shorter had freed him from his arms a while ago, but Ash didn't seem to bother getting up.

Fondly looking down on a head covered in messy golden hair, Ash's sweet laughing voice kept ringing inside his head.

"Jeez..." Shorter eventually let out a slightly melancholic sigh.

"You know..." he added after a while, notably unsure whether or not he should go on, "You're... making it damn hard for me not to crush on you..."

... 

Raising his eyebrows in astonishment, confronted with the non-existence of a much anticipated sassy reply, Shorter tilted his head to see what was going on. The Blonde was breathing peacefully, his head comfortably resting against the taller boy's shoulder.

It took him a few seconds to finally realize that Ash had indeed miraculously fallen asleep on him.

Feeling his face burn up at the speed of light, as he adjusted his sunglasses that were about to slide down his nose, Shorter kept staring down at the slender teen sleeping in his arms, in a wild mixture of bliss and bittersweet melancholy.

If only things could stay like this.  

If only they could just keep lying there, without a care for this cruel world, enjoying the first rays of afternoon sun that were flickering through the window.

Running his fingers through Ash's soft, slightly wavy hair, gently wiping those messy bangs from his face, Shorter eventually gave in to the call of his heart, hammering against his chest.

"You would probably not approve this... " he whispered almost silently as he bent his head down just a little, placing a most tender kiss along Ash's hairline, "but please... just bear with me for now..."

#banana fish #ash #shorter #tickling #art #tickle fic #tickletober2022 #lee!ash #ler!shorter

[hiorisgf]

Hii! For the valentine's event can i please request Kaiser with marriage booth? Thank you so muuuch!⚘️

##DO YOU LOVE ME OR NOT, WANNA FIND OUT?

↪In which, Kaiser thinks the best way to find out if you love or hate him is by a kiss

↪ft. Kaiser

↪Guess who forgot who Kaiser was halfway through😍😋 Also, I tried.

↪Mentions of murder(jokingly, probably) and uh roaches?(somewhat a replacement for butterflies bc im original like that/j im sorry)

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"You insufferable bastard."

"D'aww, can't you at least sugarcoat your words, mein Liebling?" You scowl at the pet name, and Kaiser finds the sight adorable—very kissable, he'd add.

Kaiser places a hand on his chest, his face mocking a hurt expression. "You wound me, dearest. The price for this experience was not a hefty one; the least you could do is thank me for giving you this one-of-a-kind experience." 

The gasp you let out was nothing short of comical. And the guests—your classmates—grows curious about the conversation you're having.

"You paid to have us in this hellhole?!" 

The way Kaiser looks at you makes it seem as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yes," he said, and you considered committing 2nd degree murder right then and there.

Your hands are trembling with fury, and all you see is red. Blood—you're out for Kaiser's blood, and you'd be sure to squeeze him of every last drop once you've managed to stop his heart from beating entirely. 

"Why do you hate me so, dearest?" he asks, and you're drawn out of your thoughts as you stare at him dumbfoundedly.

Come to think of it, why did you hate him exactly?

The answer to his question was left unfounded, even to you. All that you knew was that ever since he'd decided to bother you to the best of his abilities, your heart started to flutter as your liver and lungs danced around, doing a tango in your stomach. Heat would rise up to your face and smoke would come out of your pores the more he spent time pursuing you, and from then on, you assumed it must be because you hate him. 

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, but it is. You're bullying me for no reason whatsoever." 

You flare your nostrils in annoyance—at least, what you think is annoyance—at the way the cockroaches fly and buzz around in your stomach, begging to be sprayed with insecticides. You've noticed it appearing more often; the insects comes and flies around at times where Kaiser flashes his stupid, stupid smile at you. You remain silent as the makeshift priest drags on his speech. A second more, and Kaiser asks you yet another question: "Is it really hatred you feel for me, dearest?" 

"Yes," you reply without skipping a beat.

"Oh, how you hurt me, beloved." 

He begins his theatrics, and you roll your eyes at the sight. But despite your apparent display of annoyance, a microsmile graces your lips, barely noticeable to normal people but an easy find for Kaiser, who loved you dearly.

He takes ahold your hand in his, and you try to pry his wretched hand away from yours, pulling and tugging on it with force no stronger than when you try to lift a hundred weights. But Kaiser makes it clear he has no plans of letting go when he refuses to budge his hold on yours. His eyes gleams with something you find, you are a stranger to. And the heat of summer seems to hit you the most as blood rushes to your cheeks and leaves it smothering.

"Pray, do tell, does your heart flutter when I hold your hand like this?" He asks, and your face forms an expression you think is one of scorn. The next, he's inching your hand closer to his face—too close to feel his breath, in fact, and the room grows hotter; despite the ac being turned on to the highest point, it's as hot as the desert's temperature—and maybe even hotter than that.

Your heart, the idiotic organ that pumps up blood, leaps and soars and has suddenly learned to do ballet when he presses his lips on your knuckles, eyes never leaving your face as he kisses it softly. It's similar to the hundreds of novels and movies your friends had forced you to watch alongside them—the way he looks at you, as if he's the main lead of a romance movie—and you, his love interest. "Or does it do leaps and twirls when I do this?"

By now, you're rendered speechless and immobile as Kaiser asks you questions you'd answer yes to. Lungs almost failing when he pulls you closer, the crowd gasps and cheers, but you pay them no mind. Your focus remains on Kaiser and how he looks so frustratingly beautiful wearing that suit and along with it, his hair tied up in a ponytail. 

"Well? Riddle me this, dearest, does my face without fail, pop up in your daydreams? Do I ever cross your mind, and do you wonder how do I do?" 

If you were to answer truthfully, you'd tell him yes. That his mind plagues you every waking moment, that you worry and wonder if the smile he makes whenever he's with you isn't exclusive only to you, that you wonder if his teasing remarks meant anything at all. You'd tell him you think of him too much; it's maddening and bothering. 

"What are you trying to say?" 

"I'm saying, are you sure it's hatred you feel for me rather than love?" 

"Interesting, where did you get the idea? Was I doing a bad job at not leading you on?"

"Certainly not, you've done too good of a job I almost got discouraged," he chuckles, "but I've read somewhere that love and hate are two sides of the same coin, and I'm just a hopeless fool who wishes you've mistaken the other for the truth."

Kaiser leans closer, and your breath hitches because of the proximity you share with him. "Won't you indulge this man in his foolishness, dearest?"

Your eyes lock onto his ocean blue eyes, and for a moment, you're stuck in a trance. "Why not? This ought to be fun," you say, and you almost fall to your knees when you find Kaiser smiling down at you. god, this stupid man and his stupid smile, you'll kill him someday, most probably.

"Splendid!" 

"Well, what do you have in mind?" 

He hums, and it's only then that you haven't released yourself from his hold yet. His face is close, so much so that you could count his eyelashes, and his breath tickles your skin, leaving goosebumps trailing over its place. His arms rests on your waist, holding it firmly yet loosely enough for you to move out if you wanted to. And maybe you should; it's the most genius idea you could come up with at the moment. But something in you refuses to let you move away, and rather makes you lean into his touch. And if Kaiser noticed—which he most definitely did—then he didn't say anything.

The priest continues his speech, and you notice him pausing from time to time to eavesdrop on your conversation. But it seems like Kaiser didn't mind, given the way he continues speaking despite the priest's obvious eavesdropping.

His eyes flickers to your lips for a split second, and had you blinked, you're sure it would have gone by unnoticed. But you noticed, and it sure didn't do well for your mental health.

"I've been thinking long and hard about it, and how about we kiss?" 

His blunt words leaves your mouth agape and your eyes looking at him with a silent question of "what?"

Laughter bubbles up from Kaiser's lips, and your stare turns into a glare, one sharp enough that should you not have an ego as large as Kaiser's, you'd be sure to cower away in fear. 

"Be serious"

"Oh, but I'am, darling dearest. I believe kissing is the best way to know if you love me or not."

Doubtful, those were the words that were imprinted in the way you stared at him. "Be for real, Kaiser. How are we supposed to know with that method?" 

"If we kiss and you feel something, then you're in love, simple as that." 

"How am I supposed to know if it's special?" 

"You'll know when you feel it. Experience is the best teacher above all else, after all." He pauses, giving you time to think. "Well, what do you say?"

You nod, and at that very moment, the priest finally gets to the part people seemed to be aniticipating from the start.

"You may now kiss the bride!" 

Kaiser moves his hand to rest on your shoulder, face moving closer until he's a breath away, and your hand trembles, whether from nervousness or excitement, you aren't sure. He connects his lips with yours, and you shut your eyes close.

Oh.

A firework is sparked, and it soars into the sky, exploding into thousands of pieces in the shape of a heart. The butterflies goes rampant, aggressively fluttering around, and it feels like you're riding a rollercoaster, your heart thumping so wildly it's almost concerning and inhuman. Your legs are weak, threatening to give up underneath you, and it's pathetic how you have to hold onto him for balance. 

His hand moves to caress your cheeks, and the simple gestures sends over a tsunami of emotions you don't know how to process. It gets your lips twitching, threatening to form a smile too dorky for your character, and you feel like melting into a puddle of nothing but the emotions the event makes you feel.

When Kaiser pulls away, he's grinning from ear to ear, and you think you'll faint with how unfairly pretty it is. 

"Well, what do you think?" he asks a minute later, but the smirk that rests on his face tells you he's already figured out the thoughts that courses through your head as you gasp for air.

"Do you think you've got it all sorted now? If you don't, we can always go for another one," he winks, and you think all the feelings you had for him had been washed away by the shore. It's funny how love comes and goes so fast. 

And oh, heavens no, you think it's returned—the feelings that the waves had taken away—happily returned on a silver platter when you spot him looking at you, so full of love it leaves you gagging. Why does love come and go so fast.

#blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #♡xylvie's 100 + valentines event!!

[yall-hate-kids-tourney]

Loser Round 2: Meiling Li (Cardcaptor Sakura) vs. Damian Wayne (DC)

Propaganda below the cut

Meiling Li (10):

Meiling is a primary school-aged child who moved to a foreign country where she's still learning the dominant language, does not know anyone besides the people she's staying with, and is routinely involved in dangerous magic battles when she has no magical powers herself. And this is in addition to the fact that she's, y'know, still developing theory of mind because she is 10. Despite all this, she manages to stay mostly upbeat, and is always so determined to be helpful in whatever way she can. Over the course of the series she has a really well-written character arc that sees her gradually developing the confidence to open up to people besides Syaoran, and learning to be more considerate of other people's feelings. Naturally, this all means that the internet hates her for being 'clingy', 'annoying' and 'useless'. She's 10.

Damian Wayne (9-14):

Damian is a kid who was raised as an assassin and because of that when he first appears he has some really messed up ideas of how to prove himself to his father by being aggressive with the criminals they capture and attacking his brother. Because of this people act like he is the most evil character ever and refuse to give him any grace. They make him out to be this awful irredeemable monster who just wants to kill his brother and hurt people. If the fandom isn’t making his out to be The Worst(tm) then they are ignoring his existence all-together. He is a really interesting character who has done some not so great things but he’s grown and learned a lot through various character arcs (as much of an arc as a comic book character can have) and he deserves to be acknowledged for himself and not just as a villain so that people can woobify his brother.

——

HES JUST A LITTLE BABY GUY!!!!! Little baby man raised as an assassin and learning how to be a real person <3. But because he was kind of a dick and also a little stabby early-on, especially to the fandom's main "so sad uwu depressed baby" blorbo (and also he's not white), people treat him like he's satan incarnate

#yall hate kids tourney #loser round 2 #cardcaptor sakura #meiling li #dc #dc comics #batman #batfamily #dc robin #batman comics #batman and robin #damian wayne

[booksandabeer]

Hey,

I love your blog and I love how much work you put in when someone ask you to recommend fics for them, you’re truly beyond AMAZING! Just getting that out of the way.

And now, can you please tell me your favourite underrated stucky fics. I know this might be too big of an ask because there are SO MANY out there, so just tell me a few if you don’t mind.

Thank you so much ❤️

Hello Stranger!

Thank you for the ask and your very kind words! ❤ It's so nice to hear that people like my rec posts because they really do take a surprisingly large amount of time to put together. Anyway, I'm not complaining & this is a lot of fun for me, so on to the recs!

I struggled a bit with how to define "underrated" and I think everybody has their own ideas of what exactly that means. Also, the Stucky ship has been around for more than a decade (even longer if you count the comics), so creative output and reader interest will fluctuate and ultimately decline over time. A Stucky fic posted after 2019--no matter how insanely good it is--will never do the numbers it would have done in the Golden Age of 2014-2018. So, for the purpose of this list, a fic written in 2016 with 15K hits or less does qualify as underrated, while a fic posted in 2021 with 10-15K would not.

Also, as always, this list is by no means an exhaustive one.

the wrote and the writ by declanlynchsrack | G, 10K

Author's summary: Bucky’s crying before he’s off the boat and he’s the least surprised out of anyone to realize it.

He’s always been a softie, a leaky faucet, and the war hasn’t changed that, so he doesn’t know why the sob that smacks him startles him bad enough that he grips the strap of his bag doubly hard, ready to swing it around like a battering ram, ready to find that cloying, invisible enemy. He’s not being ambushed, on his belly in the muck and camellias, cypress hanging low, moonlight casting an eerie smile upon Lake Como like it’s enjoying the hell out of muffled gunshots and the wet grunt of lifeblood spattering onto the undergrowth.

That’s done. He’s safe.

An AU in which Bucky--minus one arm--comes back from the war and Steve never got to go, and never became Captain America. A scrappy little story that is at once full of emotion and yet completely unsentimental. This story socked me on the jaw, tackled me to the ground, and then sat on me while twisting, twisting, twisting my arm behind my back. It also has one of my favorite descriptions of the SteveBucky dynamic I've ever read: "They’re all roughed up, the two of em, a pair of old marble statues weathered by time and harsh touches, but they know each other’s chinks and foibles and can side-step them with grace while still treating the other about as delicately as they’d handle a sack of potatoes." !!! If you prefer, you can also listen to it here: [Podfic] the wrote and the writ by quietnight

Hollywoodland by romanticalgirl | E, 69K

Author's summary: In 1930s Hollywood, the world is run on the studio system. Stars are told who to date, what to wear, what to say, and how to look pretty doing it. The only way you can really do what you want is if you don't get caught.

Steve's dating Peggy, which works out because she's married to Sam, even though it's not legal. But it's the perfect cover for the fact that Steve's gay. He's managing just fine skirting the system to find companionship, but then he meets James Barnes and life gets a lot more complicated.

If you know anything about me and my love for Golden Age Hollywood, then you won't be surprised that this pushes all of my buttons. This is loosely inspired by the real life relationship of Cary Grant and Randolph Scott (the exact nature of which we will probably never know, but let's just say it was most likely not strictly platonic). Is the world the author created here entirely realistic? No--and it's not intended to be. While it is indeed rooted in many of the horrible realities that queer people and POC have faced in the past (and are still facing today), it's a slightly kinder version of it that allows for a hopeful, if not a strictly happy ending in the traditional sense. A sumptious story with gorgeous art.

make progress together by frankoceansmoonriver | E, 24K

Author's summary: He feels like Steve’s mistress. He feels hollowed out. He feels like a jammed gun still trying to go off. When he’s not with Steve he convinces himself he’s ruining Steve’s life, and though he tries, he’s too selfish to stop. When he’s with Steve, he’d fight God himself to keep it, this tangible perfection that makes him drunk and anchors him in ways he did not know existed.

Or, the one where they both survived the war, Bucky loves Steve now, has loved Steve since he was fifteen, and the year is 1945.

This is a story that I have reread many, many times because it is the perfect wish fulfillment fic for me. It's the slightly unrealistic, or one could also say: optimistic version of what I imagine would have happened had Steve and Bucky both survived the war. That's not to say that this fic doesn't have its very angsty moments, but ultimately, this is a story about love and hope triumphing in the face of adversity, and sometimes you just want to see good things happen to good people. I know some readers may find the formatting and the non-linear structure challenging, but this is a beautiful story and I really urge you all to give it a try!

I'll Light Your Way Home series by BeaArthurPendragon | M-E, 69K, 5 parts

Author's summary: Two lost Vietnam vets find each other in a Hell's Kitchen gay bar one hot September night. This is how they find their way home.

A pattern emerges! Can you tell I'm really into (No Powers) AUs set in the early to mid 20th century? Well, here's another one, but we're actually moving into second half of the century, specifically to 1969, for this one! Bea is quite possibly my favorite Stucky writer and I have recommended her stories many times to anybody who will listen to me. It's debatable whether or not she actually counts as "underrated", I guess, but it is my personal opinion that her fics should have ten times the kudos/comments/hits they do and that she deserves to be up there with the "big names". This story in particular just completely won over my heart with its gorgeous (but not ostentatious) writing, its confident and mature characterizations, and great eye for historical detail. I *cannot* recommend her fics enough. /unabashed fangirl moment over.

The Northern Lights by ThisChairIsMyHomeNow | M, 21K

Author's summary: “I can’t feel my face,” Steve shivers.

“I can’t feel my left arm,” Bucky says, deadpan. Steve barks out a laugh. It’s all white puffs of vapor in the chilly air.

“This the spot?”

“Nah,” Bucky pants, breath ragged from the long ascent up a mountain. “Almost there.”

A post-CW canon-divergent story that the author jokingly describes in their author's note as "gay superhero reluctantly gets therapy in the jungles of Wakanda, then goes on a covert road trip." And yes, maybe I wouldn't put it quite so flippantly myself, but it's not... untrue. And yet there is so much more depth to it. If you like a Bucky who takes back his life, his identity, and his future on his own terms, a Steve who isn't reduced to being his recovery prop but instead gets to shine in all his glorious, intense, stubborn Steve-ness, and a Sam & a Natasha who aren't just window dressing for the SteveandBucky-Show, this is for you! Cap Quartet Road Trip where all four members get their moment to shine--what are you waiting for?

Misplaced Pencils | T, 13K & and our words would take us 'round the world | T, 13K by Somanywords

Author's summary:

Steve and drawing throughout the years. Also Bucky.

&

Bucky is two years old when he learns to talk.

I've spent a good 30 minutes debating with myself which one of these two I should include here, and then I just threw up my hands and said "why not both? Both is good!" So here they are, two beautifully written mid-length full-arc (childhood to sometime past TWS, where they diverge from canon) fics that I love both equally. These are standalone stories and are not set in the same universe, but they do read and feel like companion pieces to each other because both stories are told through the lense of Steve and Bucky's respective artistic sensibilities and how they use their art as a framework to make sense of the world. Misplaced Pencils gives you artist Steve who, from a very young age on, has always tried to understand the world by taking it apart into its visual components & falling back on a fixed set of questions that help him to categorize and compartmentalize the people he encounters and the emotions he feels for them (just like he will later do in other areas of his life). Only that there is of course one person who's always refused to fit neatly into just one of his categories. and our worlds... on the other hand, gives you storyteller Bucky who's constantly talking, singing, writing. Who, in the end, can't help himself but narrate even his own fall and who is later delightfully affronted by his own narrative arc in a "if I had been the one in charge, I would've written it better!" way. Both of these stories are very dear to my heart and they deserve a million more hits.

+ Bonus!

Fics that definitely could/should be on this list but that I've recced before:

You are here by dharmashark

A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall by DisraeliGears

Prisoner One by ancientreader

As Time Goes By by Trouble_With_The_Snap

new topography series by brideofquiet

What I'm Looking For series by TessaBennet

Welcome Home, Son series by BeaArthurPendragon

I'm slowly working my way through my rec asks, so please be patient with me! Next up: Road Trip fics!

#stucky #stucky fic rec #stevebucky #stevebucky fic rec #steve x bucky #steve x bucky fic rec #stucky rec list #stucky fic recs #stucky fanfic recs #stucky fic #rec list #asks #my recs

[roetrolls]

(woagh! we did it again!! it's a collab between me and Chase @sasster! Look, there's a google doc!)

Appraisal

Emarra is still drunk on attention when he returns to his trailer, buzzing with adrenaline and the thrill of a crowd. He expects Sylvie will follow him here soon enough, his little sprite always so eager for his praise after a successful show. 

He’s already imagining what he’ll say to her, turning the words over in his mind as he busies himself removing his jacket and pushes past the beaded curtains into his home.

“Yumeno.”

He freezes. Now there’s a voice that will kill a mood.

Ever the performer. Emarra is quick to reel himself in, shocked expression melting into a smile tight enough to rival Faithful.

“General.”

An unscheduled visit from the Marauder rarely spells good news, but retiring for the morning to find the man waiting in your home? That’s a level of horror all its own. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks through gritted teeth.

Zerkev has already made himself comfortable–if such a word can even be used to describe such a straight-laced troll–in the seat by the window, gaze hard and stern. 

“Sit.”

It is always cumbersome dealing with fuchsias that feel they can just walk into his home and tell him what to do. Resentment leaves a sick taste in the back of his mouth as he takes a seat opposite to the general.

“There’s no chance that what you’re here to talk about could have been a text message, I’m guessing.”

Zerkev’s expression tightens, not one for jokes on a good day, let alone on one where he is already beyond the threshold of having patience for the man.

“Why have you not found Mallum yet?”

Well, of course that’s what this is about. What else would The Marauder be making home visits for? There are so many ways Emarra can answer that question too, and they all flash in his mind one after the other.

Chiefly, he has been busy with his circus, and also it isn’t his job to play Pravus line babysitter.

Neither of these answers, however, would be met with the most pleasant of responses, so he swallows them down with the taste of resentment that now coats his throat.

“He’s in the company of professionals. You know that.”

“I was under the impression that you were a professional, Yumeno.”

“Gracious and the Roatus kid can’t find him either,” by the grace of God, he manages to swallow the indignance that tries so hard to claw its way out. “It’s going to take me some more time.”

“More time?”

Something snaps behind the general’s eye, perhaps his last thread of patience, something that somehow does not influence the rest of his expression.

Instead, Zerkev sits there stone-faced.

“Just a little patience, I’ll find him.”

“Mm,” comes the muted response. The seadweller stares a moment longer, gaze boring into Emarra with a scrutiny so intense he has to suppress the urge to shift in his seat. “Would you say you’ve been distracted from this task?”

Emarra all but scoffs at the accusation. Was he expected to put his entire life on hold until the kid was found? That’s a ridiculous idea, even for someone as work-focused as the Marauder.

“No,” he answers shortly, stopping himself before anything more insulting can tumble from his mouth.

Zerkev raises an eyebrow. “That so? I’d say otherwise, personally.”

He reaches into the jacket of his uniform to withdraw a phone. It’s almost comical how out of place the thing seems in his hand, but Emarra is in no mood for humor.

After a few seconds, Zerkev brandishes the screen, playing a short, looping clip of a shadow unfurling along someone’s wall. 

The Ringleader feels a brief twinge of satisfaction as he makes note of the tiger-shaped nightlight by the bed, one corner of his mouth twitching as if to smile.

Then he squares his jaw, lifting a blank gaze back to his uninvited guest.

“What am I meant to be looking at here?”

The general cocks his head. “You tell me.”

“It’s a recording on your phone, why would I have that information?”

With a nod, Zerkev pockets the device once more and leans forward on his knees, fingers laced together. He pauses a moment, expression deceptively placid, before answering. 

“I know you’ve more sense than to lie to my face.”

The statement, simple as it is, is easy to identify as a thinly veiled threat. Emarra, having worked with the general long enough to detect that threat a mile away, leans back into his chair as if trying to put some more distance between himself and the fuchsia. It takes some effort to conceal the panic working hard to bubble up through his chest, but he manages even then to keep his gaze level.

”Then you should know that I am not lying, to your face or otherwise.”

Zerkev purses his lips, and though his expression does not shift to betray him, he does possess the uncanny ability of letting his disappointment and irritation poison the atmosphere of the room without such dramatic shifts. 

The Ringleader very briefly finds his thoughts drifting back to the other’s missing son. Yeah, I’d run away too if this guy raised and was looking for me, no question. Poor thing must’ve had an intolerable adolescence.

Locked in a terrible staring contest with his boss, Emarra then takes the opportunity to sift through a mental list of his choice in extracurricular activities up to this point. He risks being skinned alive if he admits how lax he has actually been about finding Mallum in the many perigees that have passed between now and his being given the assignment.

He risks a fate worse than that if he so much as breathes word about harassing that damn runaway of his own in the meantime.

Zerkev clears his throat, the time limit on his second chance at honesty clearly reaching its end.

“Are you telling me that you think every time something goes bump in the day that it will have something to do with me? Come on. Be real, Zerkev. I have a life, you know.”

A disappointed click of the tongue is his only response. Is he really tsk-ing him right now? Beneath his indignation, an invisible fist constricts around Emarra’s lungs, abated only slightly by the thin shred of hope that spawns in him as the seadweller rises to his feet.

Did that actually work?

Zerkev fiddles with his cufflink and hefts a weary sigh, staring ahead of himself as if lost in thought.

“Yumeno?”

For fuck’s sake, would he just go already? “Yes?”

Without warning, the Marauder’s hand shoots out to grasp Emarra by the hair, yanking him from his chair by the scalp. The motion wrenches a pitiful yelp from his lips, palms grasping at his assailant’s wrist in an effort to relieve the pain.

“I thought I told you not to lie to me, son.”

His voice, perfectly level, belies no hint of anger. He might as well be asking about the weather for all his tone suggests.

“Zerkev–” 

The grip on his hair, already ironclad, grows tighter. 

“General Pravus, sir,” Emarra corrects himself breathlessly, a nervous chuckle catching in his throat. It would be unwise to double down he thinks, but… Ah, screw it. He’s a carnie at heart. Honesty has never been his virtue. “I have a show to run. You really think I’m wasting my precious time on pointless games?”

Zerkev regards him carefully, lips pressed into a line. The silence hangs over them like lead, suffocating enough to prompt another anxious plea from the clown.

“You know how Maelia treats me! Why would I go looking for trouble under his nose?”

“Hm.” The general blinks slowly, fingers still wound tightly in the purpleblood’s hair. “I suppose you wouldn’t, would you?”

Emarra nods the best he can with his head practically glued to the man’s hand, eyes blown wide. “Exactly! I–”

“Yumeno.”

“Sir?” He swallows, choking down his pride with some hope of warding off the venom that lurks behind that stony expression.

“Did I tell you that was Drakon’s hive?”

Emarra’s stomach drops like a stone, the panic he’s been working so hard to suppress now lurching to the surface, plain as day on his face. Zerkev’s expression is unflinching, much like the tight and fearsome grip he maintains on the Ringleader’s hair. 

A reply is hard to come by under that icy glare, but eventually the clown manages to find his voice.

“Wh-Why else would you be so upset?” he stammers, choking on his own desperation. “Everyone knows how you get about your privacy.”

The way Zerkev’s lip twitches, it’s clear that was not the answer he wanted.

“My livin’ with Drakon is public knowledge now, is it?” His tone, low before, turns downright dangerous. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ripped Emarra’s hair right out of his scalp.

Past the edges of his own hubris, the purpleblood can see that he is being given one final chance to come clean. As much as he hates the man, he can’t deny that the Marauder’s patience is astounding. Any other fish would have flown off the handle ages ago.

He swallows, fingers still clasped around the general’s assaulting wrist, and selects his next words with care.

“I made a mistake,” he says slowly, heart lodged in his throat.

“A mistake?” Zerkev echoes incredulously, almost amused at his audacity.

“A poor choice.”

“I’ll say. Unless you wanna tell me spyin’ on my home was a necessary part of the process?”

“I… I was just messing with the kid,” Emarra finally admits, voice small.

“Instead of lookin’ for mine.”

“Both! I was doing both! You couldn’t have expected me to drop my entire life for you!”

Zerkev exhales slowly, something between a growl and a sigh. It’s all the warning Emarra gets before the general throws his arm to fling him face-first into the wall, the ache in his scalp quickly replaced by a new searing pain and the scent of blood in his nose. He loses his footing in the toss and crumples to the floor in a heap, hissing quietly.

Before he has the chance to catch his bearings, the Ringleader feels a cold-toed boot upon his neck.

“I’d say I’m a reasonable man, Yumeno, wouldn’t you?” He grinds his shoe into the base of Emarra’s skull before easing up, not waiting for an answer. “So here’s what I think sounds reasonable.”

Still somewhat dazed, he can only grimace in response as Zerkev grabs him by the collar and hoists him to his feet to slam his back against the wall.

“You’re gonna get one warning. Keep that greasy nose out of my business. Leave my mate and his family alone. And find my goddamned son. Are we understood?”

Emarra squares his jaw and nods.

“Are we understood?”

His teeth are as good as dust with how hard he grits them. “Yes, sir.”

Zerkev regards him carefully, eyes flitting across his face as he, perhaps, tries to gauge the man’s sincerity. Emarra can’t help but bristle. Can’t he let him go already? What more does he fucking want?

The general frowns, evidently displeased by whatever attitude he can still detect on his underling’s face. The clown prickles under his scrutiny, for once facing down a type of attention he would sooner escape. Then, all at once, that attention is drawn elsewhere, to the small voice that sounds beyond the room’s beaded entrance. 

“Emarra!”

Though Zerkev doesn’t release the purpleblood’s collar, his grip loosens considerably, just in time for Sylvie’s innocent, four-eyed face to push its way into the scene. Those eyes become saucers when they land on the Marauder, the woman’s delicate features overtaken by fear.

“General Pravus,” she squeaks, gaze darting between him and her ringmaster.

Zerkev nods in greeting, venom all but evaporated, and Emarra thanks the Messiahs for his sprite’s timely arrival.

“I-I, um…” She shoots him another anxious glance, hand unconsciously drifting toward her own nose as she spies the blood leaking from his. “I didn’t know you would have… company.”

“I was just leavin’,” the general answers, though he makes no move to do so.

Another silence descends on the trailer, with Zerkev’s pensive gaze now settled squarely on the mutant. Emarra can practically see the gears turning in his head, and he only wishes it could come as a surprise when the man opens his mouth again.

“I just got one more thing to square away ‘fore I go. Miss Selari, hon, would you mind steppin’ outside a minute? Won’t be long.”

Sylvie hesitates, again looking to the clown. With an agitated grimace, he sighs and gives her a nod. The sooner they can get this over with, the better.

His approval eases her enough to acquiesce, and soon enough she is padding back out on light and silent feet, the gentle rattle of beads all that announces her departure. The moment that faint click subsides, Zerkev’s attention is back on Emarra.

“She’s sweeter than you deserve.”

The Ringleader balks at him, the tameness of the insult somehow a bigger slap than his previous scathing reprimands. He doesn’t care what the bastard thinks of him, obviously, but it’s not the type of comment he expects during this kind of performance review.

“How long’s it been now? That you’ve had her?”

“This is what you’re hanging around to talk about?”

Evidently, the question was rhetorical, as Emarra’s non-answer glances ineffectually off the general’s chest. He finally releases him and steps away, at least, allowing the clown some room to breathe while he prepares to prattle on.

“Mallum’s always been a bright kid, you know. Wicked bright. Bit more self control and he’d be unstoppable.”

“Uh-huh,” the purpleblood responds, his irritation palpable.

“He had a hard time with schoolfeeding. Lacked discipline, always got distracted with other things. Ain’t his fault– We’re a species built on base impulse. Same reason we don’t rear our own young.”

What the fuck is he even talking about right now?

“Most trolls lack the ability to self-regulate. We found with Mallum… It sometimes helped to remove the distractions for him. He hated me for it, ‘course, but it did him good in the end.”

“I’ll remember that next time I decide to become a lusus,” Emarra deadpans, wiping the blood from his nose.

Zerkev locks eyes with him, placid expression once again turning grave.

“Yumeno. The next time you force me out here to remind you of your job, I’m taking Miss Selari back with me.”

#this guy is so fed up with his clowns #writing #guest star! #collab! #zerkev pravus #the marauder #oops i forgot sylvies here too #sylvie writing #zerkev writing

[pinkiipeachiikeen]

Feline Antics

Kuroo x GN! reader

This was the first thing I've written specifically to post on tumblr, and was originally on my other 'fanfic only' blog, pinkipeachiikeen (one 'i' after pink) but I decided managing two blogs was too time consuming and decided to merge with my original account (pansexualproblemchild) and keep the name. TDLR: it's def not my best work and if it looks familar, no I didn't copy anyone's work but my own

This fic was inspired/dedicated to @taeyamayang and her little black cat momo and my little black aria (mimi)

WC: 717

Summary: Kuroo tries.... and fails to convince y/n that he is a dog person with his cat like antics

“So what did you get?”

“19/20, beat that, loverboy.” I tease, shaking my phone at him.

“Read it and weep, honeybunch.” He dangles his phone in front of my face. “Read it and weep.” 

“What?” No way.  I snatch his phone. “Lemme see.” The four numbers mock me.

20/20. 

“I guess i’m just the better partner.” Kuroo gloats. “I could’ve told you thaAAT-” Kuroo ducks, almost falling off the couch, as i wack him with my stuffed animal, a comically large stuffed goose Kuroo gave me as ‘thinking of you’ gift since geese are small and cute. It Would have been sweet if he didn’t follow that with “needlessly loud and aggressive.”

I wacked him with it then too. Then named it Mr Honk.

“How embarrassing,” he teases. “After you begged me to take this little relationship test too.”

 “I didn’t beg!” I whine, crossing my arms. “I don’t beg!” 

He raises his eyebrow. Don’t do it. He smirks. “You sure did last-”

 “OH MY GOD!” I cut him off before my face can heat up anymore as he cackles. I’m dating a man child. “Whatever.” I scoff as I scroll through all the questions and my eyes finally land upon the damn question that determined Kuroo was the better partner. Question 12. Does your partner prefer dogs or cats? A simple question. A no brainer. Cats, obviously. Except the red ‘x’ too it says otherwise.

“Aha! That’s why!” I exclaim.

“Hmm? You found out why i am the superior parter?” he teases as he settles down next to me, feeling safe now that my weapon of choice (Mr. Honk) was out of my hands. I roll my eyes playfully. “You wish.” I tossed him my phone. “You pressed the wrong answer, dummy.”His eyebrows furrow as he retorts; “No, i didn’t?” 

“Yeah you did! You pressed ‘dogs’ instead of ‘cats’. Therefore, we tied!” I said smugly.

 “Except, I did press the right answer. I’m more of a dog person.” I roll my eyes  he explains

“Bullshit!”

“Wha-” he sputters. “How are you gonna tell me what animal I prefer?” he reasons. “Is this because I was the captain of Nekoma? With my suave graceful movements and agaile abilities?” He pridefully boasts, looking like the cat that got the canary.

 “Yeah the same agileness that broke three different lamps. Two in the same day, as well.” 

Kuroo scoffs, offended by the facts. “I’m tall, Y/n! My lanky limbs have to go somewhere!” He pouts, wiggling said lanky limbs for effect. 

“Yeah, but they couldn’t have been lanky anyplace besides right next to my nightstand? Or my coffee table, or my-“

 “Ok, Ok I get it!” He whines. “All of that only helps plead my case.” I state.

 “You mean the one that I’m a cat.” 

“Yes. Cats break shit left and right too.”

“Okay, left and right is a little excessive!”

“But not wrong. Let’s also talk about the fact how you hiss when I sprayed water on you.”

“Anyone would when you spray water on them!” 

“People don’t hiss Tetsu! You full on hissed like a vampire in the sun!

“….So like Kenma.” 

I pause for a moment. “A little bit, yeah I guess. He’s like a cat too, but that’s a whole different story. He’s like a old calico cat, just minding his business while you are a little scrappy black cat. Causing chaos and mischief.”

 “I’m not scrappy, i’m resourceful and resilient!” He corrects. 

I blink, once, then twice. “You’re scrappy”. I deadpan. “The scrappy little black cat antagonizing and teasing everyone always causing a ruckus and always needs attention and affection. No matter how much they deny it.”

 “I don’t demand nor need your attention!” He huffs. 

“Tetsu?”

“Yes, love?”

“You are literally laying on my right now.”

Kuroo looks down to realize that he is indeed laying across my lap and is silent for a moment, Before he snuggles closer into me.

“The fact that I’m laying on your lap means nothing.” He pulls up the blanket over his lap. “Now shh. I’m sleeping now.”

I smile and roll my eyes once more, something I find i’m doing more and more ever since my cat-like boyfriend (clumsily, and awkwardly)  waltzed his way into my life. “See? Demanding.” 

“Shh!” 

Thanks for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments are always greatly appreciated! ❤️

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou #maevesoriginals

[starseungs]

➳ up all night. skz

 ೃ࿔₊• pairing | skz ot8 x gn!reader

staying up to finish a project doesn't always go well. luckily, you have someone to make it all alright.

 ೃ࿔₊• genre | fluff, humor, kinda college au, boyfriend!skz — 0.2k words (per member)

 ೃ࿔₊• warnings | some sleep deprived actions,, if thats a warning

 ೃ࿔₊• note | its been a while since i posted smth here, so here's one? finally? idk 😭 anw i hope yall enjoy even if its kinda short!

⌗ bang chan !

"That's it, you're sleeping."

You look up from your blinding laptop screen to the sight of Chan crossing his arms, eyes heavy with disapproval. Blinking sluggishly, you managed a tired smile to be pasted on your fatigued face.

"It's fine," you waved him off lightly, immediately gluing your eyes back to the device in front of you. "I'm fine."

"Love, I highly doubt that." he replied, an exasperated sigh filling the room. You lightly glared at him in an attempt to prove your point.

"What do you know?" you grumbled instinctively as a response. Chan looked at you with utter disbelief, his eyes widening almost comically.

"Are you really asking me that? Out of all people?"

Oh. He got you there. Chan himself didn’t exactly have the best relationship with sleep—you often found yourself on the worrying side when it comes to his well-being. And yet here you were making him do the same thing.

Realizing this is a rare situation, you decided to use it to your advantage. With newfound speed, you quickly saved your work before slamming the laptop shut, practically jumping on the bed to make yourself comfortable in record time.

"I want hugs," you mumbled softly, directing your attention back to your confused boyfriend. Chan laughed at your actions, seeming to finally catch on to the plan you formed on a whim. With an amused shake of the head, he walked towards the bed as well.

"Yes, your highness!"

⌗ lee know !

"Damn," you heard a groggy voice drawl out across the room, informing you that your grumpy boyfriend had awoken. "How are you still awake?"

It's been hours since you started this paper, back when the sun was still up. You're very much aware of how much time has actually passed—especially since Minho has been asleep for quite a while now too. But you've made it this far, right? A few more should be fine.

"Nevermind that. How did you even sleep with my constant keyboard smashing?" You didn't even have to look at him to know Minho was probably silently mocking you for changing the subject.

There was a sound of sheets rustling before he finally graced you with a reply, "It's like ASMR."

"Well," you yawned, turning a bit to get a glimpse of his form melting into the fluffy bed. "At least one of us gets to sleep tonight."

Minho suddenly props up, giving you that boyish grin you love so much, effectively melting your tense state ever so slightly. "May I interest you in swapping places?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You want to write a research paper?" 

"Do you?" 

Silence echoed through the walls, each second amplifying your regret for pulling an all-nighter. You stared at Minho in shame, not wanting to shatter your pride out loud at the most ungodly of hours.

"Exactly. Now, come here and sleep."

⌗ changbin !

"Hey," you started with a dazed sound in your voice, the sudden noise startling Changbin next to you. "Spreadsheets are kind of like cut brownies."

He sat up at lightning speed, looking at you in massive concern. You only returned the gaze, turning the situation into an impromptu staring contest that ended with Changbin letting out a confused sound. "I'm sorry. Come again?"

Does he not see it? The cells are exactly like pieces of brownie, rectangular and all. Maybe the comparison was brought up due to your hazy state, but you could see it. You were determined to prove that the prolonged hours of you being awake weren't affecting you in the slightest.

"But like, they're white." you continued with the chosen one-sided conversation topic. "Do white chocolate brownies exist?"

"Oh, good question. Let me ask Felix—wait no, turn your laptop off!" your boyfriend complained, albeit still at a loss for words.

"I have to finish this though?"

Changbin groaned, finally getting a sense that you were not entirely conscious at the moment. "Babe, you don't even like brownies."

"What?"

Your boyfriend sighed, reaching out to cup your face with firm hands. It was when you felt your cheeks encounter a steady warmth that you realized just how sleepy you were. Changbin smugly grinned at the sight of you yawning, glancing at the laptop seated above the sheets with a conflicted expression. Finally making up your mind, you left the comfort of his hold to reach for the abandoned device.

"Just let me save my progress..."

⌗ hyunjin !

"What's a good research design?"

Hyunjin looked up from the small corner he positioned himself in, moving his attention to your slouching form near your messy desk littered with opened books, notebooks, and just... paper. You were staring blankly at the computer screen, looking like you had all the soul sucked out of you.

"I don't know," he shrugged, despite you not looking at him directly. "Maybe leaves as the borders?"

You side-eyed him, trying to see if he was being serious about the recommendation. "Did you really just say that?"

Hyunjin whined at your judging reaction. "Leave me alone! I'm trying to meditate," he grumbled, feeling annoyed all of a sudden. "And you asked for my input."

"And by meditate, you mean paint." You chuckled, deeply endeared by his sulking.

"It's my zone," Hyunjin pointed the paintbrush he was holding towards you, waving it around like a wand for more effect. "Focus on your bland white document file." You snorted at his comment.

"I can't even defend that."

The clock on your screen informed you of the time, almost scolding you for being awake at such an hour. It's not like you completely regretted your choice—your paper wasn't going to write itself, but damn you were sleepy. You noticed that your own boyfriend was also barely holding himself up, his eyes turning a bit unfocused at times. Clearing your throat, you decided to get his attention one more time.

"Should—should we just sleep?"

⌗ han !

"This is so stressful." you complained through gritted teeth, mentally restraining yourself from the urge to completely destroy your laptop.

Jisung hummed from somewhere in the background. "You alright?"

"No," you spat out venomously, trying to let the source of your frustrations, a document file, know that you were not happy with it at all. "I want to slam this laptop against the wall."

"Woah, that got violent real quick." he chuckled nervously, approaching you quickly in hopes of calming you down.

You took a deep breath. "I need a soothing playlist or something."

"And that's my cue!" Jisung squealed excitedly, speeding away to grab his phone and connect it to a speaker. "Got what you need, babe."

There was a short silence filled with your curiosity as you waited for Jisung to start playing a song. You found his enthusiasm contagious, getting you to smile softly. It was all nice and peaceful until a familiar tune entered your ears.

Is that twinkle, twinkle, little star?

You blanked at him, watching his eyebrows wiggle playfully; the action being so annoyingly endearing that you had no choice but to laugh, spreading the warmth you felt with Jisung's actions all throughout your system. Your boyfriend decided to make himself comfortable on the bed, spreading his arms wide open as an invitation. You rolled your eyes playfully. Now who could resist that?

"Scoot over, you menace."

⌗ felix !

"Is this a bribe?" You questioned your boyfriend, who was smiling oh-so-suspiciously in the midst of handing you a plate of freshly baked cookies. Felix shrugged, acting all nonchalant about the situation.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"Perhaps," you squint at him as you take the plate from his grasp. "But I need to finish this, Lix."

He only nodded in understanding. "You can finish the cookies at the same time too. Do you want hot chocolate or milk with it?"

Even though you were still confused and skeptical, you didn't want to disregard Felix's efforts. This was most likely his way of giving you support—that or he was just desperate to tuck you to bed already. Or maybe both. That also sounds just like something he would do.

"Coffee, please," you sighed, giving in to his advances. He visibly deflates at your choice of beverage, an action you catch on to quickly, cementing his reason for all this in your head. You took a bite of a cookie, amused at his reaction.

"How are you so obvious?"

Felix pouted at your words, feeling called out. "I am a man on a mission."

"Well, consider it mission accomplished," you said, standing up to give him a small peck on the cheek as a way of rewarding him. "Just give me a few more minutes."

Sitting back down, you left Felix frozen in place, still trying to process what you had just done. When his brain finally caught up, he almost jumped in happiness, making you smile as well.

"I knew my baking had magic!"

⌗ seungmin !

"Dude," you monotonously start, staring at Seungmin lying down all comfortably while mindlessly scrolling on his phone. "I want to be you so badly right now."

Your boyfriend freezes dramatically—his head snapping to look at you the next second. "Did you really just dude me? At two in the morning?" He gasps, his face reflecting how offended he was at the way you referred to him. You playfully scoff at his reaction.

This project proposal really had you on the verge of just quitting. The night was chilly, and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle in bed and sleep to your heart's content. Unfortunately, you were stuck at your desk trying to finish what was left of the darn thing.

"If you had to sacrifice sleep for a project you don't even like, you would too."

"But I'm babe…" Seungmin sulks, sinking deeper into the fluffy bed sheets. "Am I even still your boyfriend?"

Turning your back to him, you reached for the computer's keyboard once again. "Yes, of course. My honeybunch, sugarplum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin—"

"Okay, that's overkill," you softly laughed at Seungmin's quick retort. 

"And I'm overkilled."

Your boyfriend only hums at the statement. There was a silence that followed his simple response, making you groan at the reminder that you had something else to do other than chat with Seungmin. But just when you were about to get into work mode, you felt firm arms wrap around your waist as well as a sudden weight on your shoulder.

"Just sleep already. I'll help you with that tomorrow."

⌗ i.n !

"I seriously don't understand how you still have the brain cells to do that at this hour." Jeongin stares at you from the bed, greatly impressed by your determination to stay up for so long. 

"Thank you," was your reply, continuing to type away on the keyboard. "I try hard."

"But at what cost?"

"Why are you trying to make this conversation into a drama all of a sudden?" You asked, swiveling the chair around to face him, your face filled with questioning.

"I'm bored," Jeongin simply admits. "And sleepy."

You sigh, now feeling guilty for making him wait this long. He must be exhausted too, seeing as it was already around three in the morning. "Jeongin, you don't have to stay up, you know?"

He clicked his tongue in distaste. "Then risk you passing out alone? No way."

Your heart immediately warms at his words. So he was worried? The past week has been quite rough on you—this being about the third time you've sacrificed sleep in the last 6 days. If Jeongin was in your position, you would already be fussing for him to get to bed a few hours ago. Yet, here he was, supporting you in his own way. 

The blinking line that marked where you had stopped in the file was staring at you, pleading with you to continue and finish everything before the sun rose. But it looks like that won't be happening right now.

"Fine. I still have tomorrow anyway."

mastertag 🏷️ : @h0neydewmoon @starzzns @lhskokoro @bookishcalls — hahaha hi yall,, let me know if you want to be added or removed^^

#starseungs-library #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz #bang chan imagines #lee know imagines #changbin imagines #hyunjin imagines #han jisung imagines #felix imagines #seungmin imagines #yang jeongin imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff

[trippygalaxy]

Pairing: Sr!Time x gn!reader (headcanon, romantic) Warnings: Fluff?Time being a grump! I ramble a lot, sorry ._.'

OKAY I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS I SHOULD BE WORKING ON BUT MY BRAIN IS FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN WITH SACRED REALMS TIME!! The comic is @/zelda-the-sacred-realm (no I will not tag them, they're cool and I would rather die then have them acknowledge me being a simp :3 /hj)

Time

Honestly very surprising that you managed to woo the grump! His salty attitude and tough exterior is a hard one crack, let alone break enough to allow you to worm your way into his stubborn heart!

But once you're there, I can promise you that he isn't letting go that easily! He's your problem now! >:P

Isn't big on PDA at all. He has a image to keep and he doesn't want his team mate to see him weakened (by your charm)! Well- actually its more like he's trying to save both you and himself from their never ending teasing

cause oooo boy!! Those boys are RELENTLESS!! Its such an odd and rare sight for them to see the might hero of time is such a...soft state! You turn the frightening grizzly bear into disgruntled teddy bear with a simple kiss to his cheek!

This isn't to say he'll shove you off of him if you come to hug him, but he will give you a gentle reminder as he gives you a soothing but small rub to your arm before pulling back.

BUT behind closed doors/away from prying eyes?? He will take your loving in strides! (he still gets flustered when you hold hands) The hero will let you smother him until he does need to take a step back to calm down--

His favourite acts of affection to receive (tho he wont admit it) are kisses on the tips of his fingers while you cup his names! He doesn't know why but the act just makes him melt

He still struggles a lot when it comes to giving and receiving love, so please be patient with him!

Speaking of giving love, I see Time as the type of fella that uses gifts as a way to express himself!! He sees an object/item that reminds him of you? Oops, it's in his pocket now :3! You've been taking about this one really rare item to add to your collection? Oh how strange, Time had this little thing laying around, here ya go!

The hero also enjoys just...being in the same room as you! You both could be do your own little tasks, not talking or even sitting that close, but he'll enjoy the company you give him! It might seem strange to others but the simple fact that Time knows your there and within reach is just so...comforting?

The boys have used Time's love and affection for you as a way to protect themselves from his wrath LMAO

Like, World of Realm (link) will be hauling ass as they're running away from the furious spirit until they catch sight of you!! Their saving grace!!

And before you know it, two shaking heroes are hid behind you as your dashing lover comes to a screeching halt infront of you. All you can do is give him a raised eyebrow and curious smirk and boom! legendary hero defeated (turned in a small flustered mess)

But that's not to say you don't quietly chew out the two heroes! Nono! Time is still your lover and you don't appreciate the heroes riling him up so much. This tends to end up with u pull the heroes along to give the hero an apology (if they actually did do something to make him angry/upset) when you darling had the chance to calm down.

Overall, you're relationship is one that starts slow as the hero gets used to being loved once more. It's a lot of figuring out what does and doesn't work within your relationship and how to navigate those challenges!

But even with the difficulties, the hero can and will love you with his full heart (no matter how cold the others say it is) and will do everything in his power to make sure you're kept safe and happy!

Taglist: @the-cucco-nuggie @miadancer24 (If you wanna join it, just ask and I'll add you!)

#tales out of orbit #zeldathesacredrealm #sacred realm #the sacred realm #sacred realm x reader #sr time #sr time x reader #reader insert #first time writing for sr time...kinda scared heeh ._.'

[peachy-wolfhard]

He's an asshole but he's MY asshole (IV)

A/N: still can’t believe how many people love this series, thank u sm :,). u alr know dialogue is from the episodes

Taglist at the bottom, feel free to ask to be tagged in upcoming parts!

Warnings: reader is described as a bitch bc same, swearing like normal, comic book references, body gore? (Grace loses her eye), drinking, talks of sex, mentions of tentacle sex bc im a degenerate, reader gets burned (not severely), knocked unconscious

Word Count: 3.3k

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7

ok but does anyone know what song plays at the end of episode 7? ive been looking for it but still cant find it

     Luther doesn't keep to his promise and lets you wander about the hotel. No big deal though you’d rather be on your own than have to listen to Sloane and Luther talk all mushy to each other. Finding an unlocked room you start to see if you can find anything else to wear. Unable to find anything, you spot the housecleaning and start walking over, hoping that they can point you in the exit direction. Upon closer inspection, you realize that it's the weird guy, who you now know is Klaus, and the small pyromaniac child. Turning away as soon as possible you blindly walk until you find the balcony. You sit on the pool table, looking towards the foyer where Jayme and Alphonso’s bodies were still laid out, for all to see. Soon the others start to arrive, Sloane, standing next to you while Allison, Diego, and Viktor are in front of you and Luther in the middle mediating. “We use Sloane and y/n as an olive branch,” Luther explains. “We let them go as a gesture of peace, along with the bodies of Jayme and Alphonso.” “Once we’re back with our family we can-” “We?” you interrupt just wanting to go home. “Fine, I can convince them the old guy had nothing to do with you and get them to stand down,” she continues. 

     Tuning out the ensuing argument you turn to Sloane. “I hope that you know that I'm not going along with this, I just want to go home and get Jayme and Alphonso home,” you whisper almost to the point of tears. “I know, I know,” she says rubbing your arm. Typically you wouldn't allow yourself to be this vulnerable around people but especially the ‘enemy.’ You want to be home, in your husband’s arms, mourning your siblings, not arranging a peace treaty. Luther and Diego continue arguing, about some prince or king before Sloane steps in and tells Allison to rumor her to prove that she isn't hiding anything. “Do whatever you wanna do, Luther. That’s on you. I’ve got bigger shit to deal with,” Allison hisses before walking away Diego follows. 

   �� In the car, Viktor starts to talk to you, “I’m sorry about them,” he whispers leaning towards you so that Sloane and Luther don't hear. Ignoring him you look out the window. It was always so pretty at night, that’s why all your dates with Ben were at night and the fact that before him you were primarily nocturnal. “So you and Ben huh?” he says smiling, you have to admit he does have a kind smile, one that feels warm and inviting. Turning towards him you say “Yes, we’ve been together for some time now,” cracking a small smile but still keeping your stone-cold poker face. “Oh yeah it’s like y/n was always been at the academy,” Sloane smiles. “You should've seen them when they were teenagers oh god he would follow them around like a lost puppy,” Sloane laughs, embarrassing you in the process. “So…I’ve been meaning to ask this.” you start cautiously. “What was I like? Like what was your y/n like?” Luther and Viktor become visibly uncomfortable with your question but answer still. “So um, you were nice and kind but also kind of a-” “Bitch, like as bitchy a person can be,” Viktor interrupts Luther. “Good fighter, too. Kind of brutal but that goes without saying,” Luther laughs, managing to make you smile at that before turning back to the window.

     Standing around the car you wait for your family to come get you. You stand with Viktor leaning up against the car. Finally, they're here, leaning off the car as Ben steps out of the car. Running towards him you jump into his arms as he embraces you as tightly as possible. Luther puts Jayme and Alphonso in the back. “Well, this is it. This puts an end to it,” Viktor says tiredly. “No. We want the old man too,” Ben sharply says causing Fei to ask what he’s doing. “You wanted a plan. Here it is,” Ben replies. “It’s a stupid plan!” Fei whisper shouting at Ben. Viktor reminds Ben that he isn't a part of the plan. Sloane steps in and tells him that the family had nothing to do with the attacks but Ben doesn't stop stating that since he has nothing to do with them they won't mind finding him and handing him over. “Bring us the man that killed our siblings, and this will all be over.”

     Being home was the best thing ever. As soon as the car stopped in the driveway you were rushing inside, just wanting to be in bed. After changing and getting nestled under the covers, Ben comes in and quickly changes. Crawling into bed he pulls you close, so close that if he pulled you any closer you would merge into one. Peacefully drifting off to sleep like the past two days haven't existed, as if it was just an average day.

     Waking up you see your husband still peacefully asleep. Looking toward the clock you see it's 7:25 in the morning. Deciding that it's an appropriate time to get out of bed and start the day, you pry yourself from your lover’s arms and get dressed. Nothing of note happened at breakfast, everyone was silent just wanting to leave and mourn alone. Retreating to the living room, deciding that the best way to work through your emotions was by painting. “People from all over the world are disappearing now,” you hear Fei say. Sighing you stand and start cleaning up your area, picking up the discarded paper towels and your mason jar of paint water that Ben once drank as a dare. “We need to work together with the umbrellas,” Fei tells Ben. “The man who killed our siblings is an outsider. Neither Sparrow nor Umbrella. He needs to be dealt with before we can merge the families,” “And if they refuse? How do we save the world?”

     In the basement standing before…God; Ben asks Grace for her right eye stating that if we’re going to beat it, we first need to understand what it is. Taking her eye, he put it into… it? God? Whatever it is. As soon as her eye is in it, energy soon starts pulsating out of it; a shockwave is sent out that pushes you all back a bit. Grabbing Grace you hold on for dear life along with Fei and Ben. Struggling to keep a hold on Grace, you brace yourself holding around her waist with your feet planted, one bent and one outstretched. Suddenly her eye cable flies back, eye eyeball not attached. “God has a million eyes, each one falling into themselves,” Grace says cryptically. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Ben questions. Christopher then tells Ben that what she saw could be a black hole or multiple. Ben shuts him down quickly, remarking that he's surrounded by morons, which earns him a smack on the arm from you. 

     “What if what Grace is describing is a black hole collapsing in on itself?” Fei asks, willing to what Chris out. The black hole starts pulsing energy again, “God is angry with us,” Grace yet again cryptically says. “We are wasting precious time. This is bigger than just us. We need help,” Fei pleads with Ben. “Harlan first, then we can kill whatever the hell this is.” Walking out of the basement scared your mind starts to race again. What if we cant do it? Even with the hellish in-laws alongside us, can we do it? I mean we’ve faced off with some vicious foes in our life but a black hole? Pulling you from your endless spiral of dread and fear, Ben places his hand on your waist. Looking up he gives you a small smile, already knowing your mind is wandering. “Listen babe, we got this remember The Conductor? Dr. Terminal? We kicked those guys six feet under, we got this. Plus we’re gonna have us five and six other superpowered people. Don't worry,” Ben says managing to lift your spirits slightly.

          “Oh my fucking god,” Ben says while tossing and turning. “Can they just shut up? She dares to be annoyed with us when the entire block knows what they’re doing?” Ben continues to complain. “I feel sorry for Fei,” you snort, turning and facing the wall. “Squeakiest bed in the fucking world,” he says while turning to lay with you.

     Walking down to the living room you see Luther and Sloane sitting on the couch, right never to next other as if they're joined at the hip… or Luther’s hip and Sloane’s ribs. “For all, I know y/n could jump up from behind that couch and stab me to death,” “I'd never let them lay a finger on you.” Oka,y kind of gross but still kind of cute. “Good morning to you too?” you say chuckling. “I’m honored that you think I’d do that.” Turning towards you Luther starts to speak, “Oh, good morning y/n. Uh how did you sleep?” he asks nicely. God stupid people are so fun to be around. “Well if you must know not good. Sloane, your bed sounds like a bunch of mice being crushed,” you say half-joking and half-serious. “Oh okay I’d rather not hear you say anything about noises, the shit that I’ve heard is awful,” she laughs as she leans over to whisper something to him. “Tentacles w-” “And I'm done with that conversation,” you say walking and turning one of the chairs around the fireplace to face forwards and sitting down. 

     “Give us a minute,” Ben says making you and Sloane walk out and act as if you left to your rooms. After some time, Grace comes into the room with a Sparrow academy box. Peeking into the room you watch Luther open the box; Sloane walks into the room in disbelief that Ben would let him join you. Joining your family you welcome him to the team with a small smile before being whisked away with Ben. “So, Luther’s with us now. What’s the plan when that goes to shit?” you joke. “It's a secret,” Ben smiles. “A secret? From your spouse?” you say with a faux offense as you continue down the hall to the training room. A few hours later here you and the entirety of your family are, waiting for Allison to bring Harlan. Seeing her pull up, she gets out of the car and opens the trunk. Ben and Fei go to make sure it's him. “You got what you wanted. This is done,” she says as Ben nods to Reginald before seeing Luther in his Sparrow jacket and walking in.

     Ben soon calls a family meeting; both families. “So, uh… this is kinda nice, right?” Luther awkwardly starts. “All of us here together. One big happy family.” Oh, I fucking wish that’s what we are. “Look I know there's bad blood between us. Whatever. Bygones, right?” Ben says making you smile, even when he's being an ass he still manages to make you smile. “Question?” Ben asks Diego who shot his missing finger hand up. “Yeah, if I kill you two, do we get our Ben and y/n back?” Diego genuinely asks making your eyes go wide and Fei snickers. Ben throws threats toward Diego before Viktor comes in asking where Harlan went. Viktor rightfully asks what you did to him but Allison says that she did something to him, stating that she killed him. Anticipating a fight you walk towards Ben who read your mind and grabbed you and the cheeseballs and sat down next to Five, pulling you into his lap. 

     “20 bucks on the little one,” Ben bets with Five, taking his action, munching on the cheesballs as Viktor and Allison argue. Finding out that Harlan didn't just kill your siblings but the Umbrella’s mothers (effectively causing a paradox where they don't exist) you start paying more attention to the fight. “This wasn't about saving the world. This was about hurting me. Payback for--” “Go on,” Allison interrupts while starting to stand. Luther tries to intervene before Allison gestures him away. Allison and Viktor continue arguing, making you worry for Allison. She continues arguing, bringing up many personal experiences of people trying to fix Viktor’s problem and not even acknowledging her’s. Five tells Allison to take it easy as Ben slightly pushes him back in his seat. Viktor tries to speak but is shut up when Allison screams for him to, causing his mouth to close and choke for air. “We should've left you in the basement,” She says causing every one of the Umbrella’s to stand “Whoa! Allison, all right!” Diego yells at her while standing. After catching his breath Viktor backhands Allison earning a face from Fei and a gasp from you. “Sweet. You guys fight just like us,” Ben tells Diego who replies that they don't fight like that. Continuing with the family meeting without Viktor, who had rushed upstairs.

     After the meeting, you showed the Umbrella’s (what you now know is) the Kugelblitz. “Oh cool it's German,” you say trying so desperately to lighten the mood. That's what you did during your family’s fights, lighten the mood and be the mediator. You always joked that maybe your true power was settling sibling disputes. Five and Sloane start talking about science stuff; you were always more of a chemist than a physicist. “I'm in,” Five says impressed with Sloane’s data. “We don’t need you,” you say causing Allison to say “Excuse you?” Fei explains that we need Lila, Christopher, Sloane, and--“Viktor,” Allison interrupts. Before the others do their thing with the Kugelblitz, you have some time before. Walking with Ben upstairs to get his jacket, stopping before you get to the door to wait. After some time Ben comes out and tells you that Viktor was in there getting his emo all over your sheets. “Okay, Mr. has every Fall Out Boy album on vinyl,”

     “Okay, how do we start?” Viktor asks Sloane. “Have you ever moved a nest of bees?”Sloane asks the group. “No, because that’s weird.” Lila returns. “You can't just pick it up. You have to keep the nest calm while you build a box around it, and then you trap it.” After Sloane explains she starts levitating; Fei warns Viktor that one of the black holes is vibrating at a different rate from the others and that he shouldn't let them speed up or change. Taking her advice, he encompasses the Kugelblitz. Fei tells Lila that whenever she’s ready she needs to do exactly as Viktor does. Sloane uses the Kugelblitz’s gravity to condense it. “You didn't tell me you were building a prison for God,” Grace says, walking down the stairs holding something. “You have no right to do that,” she says menacingly. “We’re a little busy here, Grace,” Luther shouts hoping to make Grace turn back. You turn and start paying more attention to Grace than whatever cool shit your siblings were doing. “The day of vengeance was in my heart…” Grace says as you walk behind Diego. Soon almost everyone is looking at her, dressed in a nun costume. “What do you mean by that?” You ask Grace, just wishing she’d go back to making her bombass cookies. “...and my year of redemption hath come,” she finishes before firing a flamethrower. “Shit!” Diego ducks left, grabbing your arm and pulling you down with him.

     Grace continues firing the flamethrower as the others try and eliminate the Kugelblitz. Diego leaves your hiding spot to reason with Grace saying “Don't make us hurt you.” Grace repeats the quote she said before. Getting up before Grace starts firing again you pull Diego back to your spot, managing to burn your arm in the process. Yelling out in pain, Diego wraps your wound in some loose cloth he found. “I’ll be fine, it’ll heal real fast, don’t worry about me,” you protest, out of breath from the pain and close to tears. “Hell no.” he says sharply “I’m not losing you again,” he quietly says. Soon Five teleports Grace out of the basement. Peeking around the corner you see Christopher come apart and start to close around the Kugelblitz. Standing around you watch them as they successfully shrink the Kugelblitz; Chris absorbing it in his cubed body. “Did it work?” Five says, back from what you presume was killing Grace. “Next Kugelwave in three, two…one,” Sloane counts. When the next wave is supposed to happen, Chris instead farts. Causing everyone to sigh in relief.

     Upstairs a party commences; full of dancing and lots of alcohol. Ben opens a bottle and starts to drink, handing the bottle over to you which you eagerly accept. It's been a long and rough couple of days. After dancing around you remember your burn. Taking the cloth off you see it has completely healed. “Whoa, so-so you're like Klaus,” Diego comments, flopping next to you, staring and touching your arm. Diego continues talking wanting to learn more about your regenerative abilities, “Damn so, like, hypothetically, if you got staked would you come back?” he asks making you scoot further away in a joking manner. “Um, probably not, cause like, when you get staked that means your dead, like really dead,” you try and explain. “Huh, cool,” he says before getting up and walking away. God, they're so much weirder than us before getting up and continuing to party, Ben eagerly waiting to dance with you.

     Sitting around the fireplace, continuing to drink with Chris, Ben and Fei. “I’m glad we made peace. It all worked out, “ Ben says to Fei while pouring more into her glass. “Yeah. but we’re definitely killing them in the morning, right?” “I have dibs on knife boy,” Chris jokes. “No one is killing anyone.” “why not? We followed your plan, merged the families, saved the world--” “Universe actually,” you interject causing Fei to make a choking gesture to you. “We don't need them anymore,” Fei finishes. “I'm not done with them yet,” “Done what?” Fei asks. “That's between me and Dad,” Ben concludes. “You made a deal with Dad?” Fei asks annoyed that he would do something stupid like that. “I may have,” Ben answers much to Fei’s displeasure. “Fine. I’m done--” “Sit back down,” “No, we don't recognize your authority. You’re a terrible leader with no loyalty to anyone but yourself,” Fei responds standing up to Ben yet again. “You don't speak for Chris or y/n,” Fuck don’t throw me in this mess. Chris speaks up and tells Ben that Fei’s right and that he is a shitty leader and brother causing Fei to snicker and you to cover your mouth, hiding the smile. “Really dude? I’m number one. You’ll do as I say when I say it,” Ben says to Fei. “Not anymore,” Fei says leaning in and smirking 

     “Here's to a new life without this dickhead,” Fei says as she cheers with Chris. Chris starts to spin and glow brighter than normal. “Christopher, what’s wrong?” Fei asks worriedly. “Hey Chris it's gonna be okay,” you say walking closer before being pulled back by Ben. “Back away guys,” Ben warns. “Chris, it’s going to be okay,” Fei repeats trying to calm him as they walk closer to him. “It's going to be okay, I'm going to help you,” “Fei!” Ben yells trying to get her away from Chris. Not a moment later Chris explodes, pulling Fei in and knocking both you and Ben down. Anticipating a Kugelwave you cover Ben’s head and neck with your body. As the wave hits Chris is completely destroyed. The house starts crumbling, a piece of the balcony hitting you knocking you out.

Taglist: @0x1lovesonq @bryannabarradas @ac-book-nerd-13 @4okkotsu @kraken-00-22 @fivehargreevessuit @isaefire @xhiiyuv @fridatessacm @gloriousstudentoperamug @j-panic @salted-fis @siriusly-rem-writes @gamingdevil101 @sanguinelabyrinth @muzanslander12 @mihhggvggh @choichaeyiul @mitsuri-darling @birbtweettweet @choclate32 @ddeonubaby @nao-cchi @i-bitch-you-bitch @mylesofasgard @darlingsuna @blogname197 @mivzai @emmeowo @yanelly1085 @mukbee @aceofspades190 @jui36oxx

#masterlist #ben hargreeves x reader #sparrow!ben x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #tua x reader #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy spoilers #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves imagine

[helluva-world-innit]

So...they are far from perfect, but they have taken me months and I finally have these two as close to what I see in my head as I'm going to get them for now. I will just hope I improve as I draw them more or something. Digital art is also something I'm still adjusting to so...yeah. Anyway, say hey to our protags (reimagined)! Buckle up, this post got looooooong.

Charlie is the only child sired by Lucifer himself even if it's in a most unconventional way. He's essentially her father and her mother. No Lilith here, folks, sorry. I'm not Jewish and I don't feel comfortable adding her considering what Jewish folks have said about her inclusion in modern works so she's just...not appearing in this comic. A lot of this will be based on my Protestant upbringing with my Hellenic Polytheist sensibilities thrown in, just fyi.

Now, about the redesign...

I don't actually hate the redesign of Charlie in the show. Her hair is fun, her being masc-presenting is interesting, and red is actually my favorite color. However, I completely redid the Rings and like the idea of Charlie trying to unify Hell with her cause instead of just Pride Ring. She kept some of her red because Lucifer has blond/red hair in my version, depending on how much of his angelic persona drops. There's also red in her coat of many colors which is a Biblical reference as well as an extension of Charlie's ideas about Hell and how the "rainbow" of the Rings should be working together to rehabilitate Sinners instead of just torturing them and making them worse. She even made it herself from scraps of the Ringmasters' clothes, Belphagor's fleece, and an old sewing machine. Her dad hates it because it makes her look poor. They are locked in constant battle over him trying to discreetly destroy it and her salvaging it last minute. She also wears spats on her shoes. They're tap shoes because ofc they are. I let her keep her love of theater because it's cute. Lucifer secretly loves that his daughter is just as much of a showboat as he is.

JC is also Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Comic, but at least we have Charlie.

Now, some of you are probably noticing that I made Charlie darker...that's not an accident. Charlie, by the method of her birth here, has black skin. She has her father's eyes and hair. As I get better at drawing and rendering black hair, we will see it in other styles because I love some of the things black folks with more textured hair than myself do with it. I just really like the bubble braid too. It suggests thickness not a lot of people have in their hair. Charlie has had to learn how to style her hair herself a lot since Luci can barely manage some puff buns. Doesn't help that It seems to grow back as fast as it's cut so Charlie mostly trims the ends and moisturizes the hell out of it.

I think it's fitting for Charlie to have a bit extra vibrancy with demon and angelic features because she isn't mortal. At least not completely. She does have a more horrifying form with horns and eyes and wings but she hardly ever has to use it. She also has a natural charm to her she gets from her dad that makes it very hard to turn down what she suggests. Not impossible, just very unappealing. Hoping I can get to a point where her eyes aren't so scary looking but she does have cat pupils so, we'll...see.

Funny thing about Charlie is she is a bit like Elsa. Born with powers beyond comprehension, lives in an icy castle in the mountainside of the remote (only) city in her country, and was kept away from most of her citizens until her 200th birthday.

Okay, it's not a complete 1:1 here. Yes, Lucifer kept Charlie under wraps for about 200, well 50 years from his family, the other Ringmasters. The other denizens of Hell had no idea they had a princess until the events of the comic. They really aren't sure what to make of it either. Some Hellborn think they'll be able to marry into Lucifer's good graces (Sinners cannot legally marry anyone), others consider ransoming Charlie when she ventures out to start the rehab hotel (they are so painfully mistaken; everyone from her dad to her aunt Bel has taught her how to fight viciously even if it's not her preferred method of conflict resolution. to say nothing of the protective friends she gathers quickly). It also makes Charlie a little...well, naive about just how well her plans to rehab Hell are going to go. Most of what she knows about interacting with others come from pop media and her loving and protective family. It's an eye-opening experience when she strikes out on her own.

Debating on adding more black fleece to the bottom hem of her coat too. Thots? The background is just a deserted little corner of Pride Ring which is covered in snow (yes, Pride Ring is cold like in the Divine Comedy here). The orange trees in the background are courtesy of @holoanarchy for giving me the idea when I asked "what's a good color for the leaves of Hell trees?". I'll talk more about those when I post that Ring up, though.

Okay, let's talk about this lovable asshole now.

Blitz Wire has had to struggle and fight for most of the things he has in life. From the very beginning, things have been...tough for him. Imps are not the very bottom of the social ladder in my version of circus Hell, but they still make up the majority of the working class. If you've never been working class, take it from me, it sucks rocks. Sucks even more when neither of your parents were ever really successful or good with money either, as is the case with the Wires. Blitz's parents met when they were young and idealistic in Greed Ring and shortly married after a brief courtship. Beatriz (this is what I named his mom to keep with the 'B' theme), worked in a factory where they painted figurines of Mammon and the gold paint she huffed developed into Imphysema over time. She stayed sickly throughout Blitz, Barbie, and Fizz's childhood while Buckzo took over the family carnival to help put food on the table. When Beatriz could no longer work, he put the kids to it. They were happy to help and work to get noticed by Mammon so they could rake in some dough to get better medical treatment for their mother, despite the Ringmaster being the very reason she was sick in the first place (capitalism, baby!).

Blitz, as in the canon...is not very funny. Despite having a range of acrobatic tricks and being able to think and react very quickly, he just never had a knack for nor got a grasp of how to hold people's interest and make them laugh. Is what it is. Fizz was always the star of their little sideshow attraction. Barbie came as a close second with her death-defying knife acts and torture plays. Blitz just never stood out as an entertainer as the maladjusted middle child. Over time, that became a resentment. Coupled with Buckzo's disregard for him as his son, Blitz started pushing the envelope with the acts he performed.

Finally, when he was sixteen, Blitz decided he was ready to run a giant obstacle course straight out of Hell. It went about as bad as you would expect. Fizz got the brunt of the damage when he pulled his surrogate brother out of the jaws of certain death. While he was still recovering from being scalded by holy water, Blitz was fired and kicked out of the only home he'd ever known by his father. Barbie and Beatriz kept in touch, despite Buckzo's "banning" it, but Blitz spent the remainder of his teenage years on the streets of Hell, urban foraging and doing odd jobs to save up for a place away from Greed and the posters of Fizz's face as his fame grew.

I didn't really want to change much about Blitz's clothing choices since it makes sense for him to want to look professional, but also be comfortable while slicing throats and blowing people up. Also, blue and gold comes from him being from Greed and Asmo being his company's sponsor. Took away the boots and gave him proper hooves, though. Now, I didn't base the imps' lower halves on any specific ungulates, but Blitz's top half is defs based on an iguana. I want them to be more reptilian since Wrath is pretty desert-oriented and Satan is lizard-like herself. I could probs get away with making his tail a little shorter, but I'm happy with how his horns and spines turned out. He smokes this shitty brand of cigs called Blak'N'Bluz. They aren't called that because of the black filter and blue of the Hellfire they burn on, though. It's said they actually make one's lungs black and blue with one drag because they're so caustic. They're the easiest to steal as a result and the one Blitz started with so he always comes back to them.

I wanted him and Barbie to look more twin-like and I really don't care for OG Blitz's horns. As far as the pendant he's wearing goes, it never made sense to me that his mom only left him something and never left anything for her other kids (which could not be the case but we just don't know because...well, we're never given this info). Blitz and Barbie split their mother's necklace down the middle and each of them wears a piece of it. No idea what to give Fizz from her yet.

I changed Blitz's facial scars and I'll tell you why. Forget who pointed it out in the critical tag, but the type of face scar OG Blitz has would likely leave him blind, with low vision, or with no eyelid in the eye covered in that scar tissue. No matter how you slice it, his sight would be compromised. Given that I gave that particular trait to Loona and Vaggie also has an eye patch, I decided to vary him up. He's still disabled though. As another person pointed out on a totally unrelated to HB/HH post, burn scars can impact everything from self-esteem to physical movement depending on what caused them and how they heal. Due to the majority of Blitz's scarring being on his right and back, his tail and right side usually suffer some debilitating pain flares when he overworks himself. Also, migraines and trouble extending his limbs fully. Basically, he carries a bottle of percocet around (it's like demon ibuprophen; it's fine). His pain is part of why Blitz is such a cussy grump. Hard to be pleasant when you're poor, traumatized, AND hurting all the time.

I.M.P. is still a thing in this rewrite (still debating the name), but Blitz got the idea for it when he was dating Verosika (yup, that's still a thing too). She's the one who got him an in with her boss, Asmodeus. So, he has access to Asmodean crystals since the Ringmaster also liked the idea for snatching extra wicked souls early (they're a power source and, therefore, far more valuable then someone committing tax fraud or whatever) They parted on okay terms, but Blitz adopted Loona shortly after entering his 30s. Kid's gotta eat, so he expanded the business from an imp with a knife to two imps with a van full of guns. Hiring on Moxxie from his old stomping grounds of Greed, they were able to take on more clients. That led to meeting and hiring Millie. Loona comes on hunts now that she's old enough too and they all have a blast. The rest, they say, is history.

The other side of his face for ref:

Gave him a tear-shaped scar because why not? Also a horntip cap. That one is damaged and his trying to keep it from getting worse and breaking the whole tip off.

#jack is wording again #helluva redesign #hazbin redesign #blitz wire #charlie morningstar #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical

[readingrobin]

Since I was caught up in the Magical Readathon this month, it gave me the opportunity to pick up my pace a bit reading-wise. Managed to get into those sweet double digits when it came to how much I read and the majority of them were great. It started off on a high note, but I think by the end I was getting into some very lukewarm reads. Nothing too terrible, since I didn't manage to DNF anything this month, but it's always disappointing to end a month with a whimper rather than a bang.

Total Books Reads: 11

Total Pages Read: 3,520

Books Read:

Murder for the Modern Girl by Kendall Kulper (3.5/5) (Review)

All the Stars and Teeth by Adalyn Grace (3/5) - A sea faring journey is just what I needed to get in the mood for a summer that feels not too far off. I will say, this book definitely lives up to its promise of adventure, due to its tense, bloody action and introduction to a world with a interesting magic system, though I did find myself constantly confused and unable to really visualize soul magic. I think the book's greatest strength is its setting, where each island holds its own kind of magic and traits. Though we didn't see every island, I'm sure the rest will be left for the sequel to explore, there was enough to sate me for this particular journey.

When it comes to our main crew, I think I have to echo some other reviews by saying Amora comes off as the least interesting. Bastian has his charm and inner turmoil that he tries to keep behind a mischievous facade, Ferrick, his foil, a bit more straight laced and focused, while also having the neat featuring of regrowing limbs, and Vataea, a mermaid with a sultry, yet scary strength. And Amora is…just there. She's the princess, our main character, the one who believes she alone can save the kingdom, which somewhat makes me feel like she views her crew as nothing more than lackeys and sidekicks who are but tools to help her get to each destination while she does the most self-sacrifical work. I know she's meant to be a stubborn royal who was most likely raised to believe so, but it still doesn't exactly put her in the best light to the reader.

The writing itself kept my attention, but the plot had the standard twists and formula one finds in most YA fantasy. Nothing wrong with a formulaic plot, but there should be some sort of window dressing or aesthetic that keeps it from fading into the background with all the rest like it. My mind was starting to expect certain plot beats, only to go "ah, there it is" when the shoe inevitably dropped.

Mage and the Endless Unknown by SJ Miller (4/5) - Not gonna lie, this graphic novel gets rough. If you're up for seeing a little mage constantly facing some sort of traumatizing event from the terrifying creatures he meets on his travels, well, this'll certainly do it for you. The artist really has a knack for drawing unnerving, rigidly detailed creatures that give off a Junji Ito vibe. The contrast of the amount of gore, violence, and disturbing visuals offset the more friendly and cartoonish looking mage, giving the idea that one of these things doesn't belong in this setting. Though upsetting at points, there is a glimmer of hope to this comic, one that offers a sense of peace and rest. The comic does have a physical release coming out, but you can read it now on the magecomic website.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger (4/5) - It's odd how I went into this book having both some expectations, mostly due my friends and everyone else lauding it extensively, and no expectations at all. This pretty much happens whenever I'm 3-5 years behind reading the latest hot titles. But Elatsoe really does live up to its clout. The world has a somewhat normalized take on the paranormal, where vampires, or "cursed" individuals, magic users, and faeries are a known part of the world, interacting with society with life pretty much going on as normal. Well, aside from the string of mysterious deaths that seem to linger around a small town in the middle of Texas. It presents a setting that is both familiar and yet holds a bit of intrigue in a sort of alternate Earth containing all the history of our world with just some extra bits.

I loved the incorporation of Lipan Apache culture in the story, giving it an identity all its own and more weight to its events. The theme of oppressors actively displacing and sacrificing the oppressed to survive and further their own needs will always be haunting, especially when tied to the history between colonizers and indigenous peoples. Little Badger gives an equal amount of lamentation for the crimes of the past and present, while also celebrating the endurance of culture and its teachings that are passed down throughout the ages. 

A big plus for making Ellie's asexuality just a casual feature of her character rather than making it an entire plot point. As an asexual person, I'm glad to have any normalizing representation that's more than an entire story where the protagonist has to repeatedly defend and validate their sexuality to other people. Here, it's just a part of her being, no big thing, and that's the way it should be. 

Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher (4/5) - I've been hearing a lot of good things about T. Kingfisher and how I would really jive with her work. Well, diving into a story with a main character that has trouble really understanding the world around her while also bringing together a group that may qualify as one of the odder found families definitely wins me over.

I think what really endears me to this book is how much I appreciate Marra as a character. I love how, despite how constantly and profoundly out of her depth she is, she is still determined to do anything to protect her family. That, while she is surrounded by people who, on the surface, are more exemplary and powerful, she is capable of working marvels. What makes her stand out among other royal heroines is that her abilities are not tied to skills she earned through her title or some kind of destiny, but a certain domesticity she finds comfort in and developed all by herself. Marra is a self made woman, wanting to make herself of use to others instead of sitting around, waiting to be used as a chess piece. I think there's something amiable in depicting a sort of power in the mundane, that, with enough determination and love, could be as strong as any weapon or magic.

The writing style makes it so immersive as a dark fairy tale. Kingfisher always nails the tone of a scene, whether it be unnerving, reflective, mysterious, or tinged with a hint of humor. There were some elements I think could have been expanded upon. I wish we got a little bit more characterization from Prince Vorling other than what we got as second hand accounts. Most of the time, he never really felt like a threat, just something far away and not really tangible, despite his lingering marks on Kania. I really wanted to see more of that Goblin Market as well. So very ripe with fantastical possibilities.

The Moth Keeper by K. O'Neill (3/5) - O'Neill, throughout all of their work, knows what it takes to make each of their worlds atmospheric, engaging, and magical. It's mainly through their artwork, which is just totally immaculate here. The night scenes, will covered in a dark, expansive sky, still have a certain glow about them, coming from Anya's lantern and the ethereal presence of the moths. The adding of animal characteristics to the characters also bring about a certain kind of charm, though I wonder if there was a purpose behind these designs beyond aesthetic. The art itself make it worth checking out, but I don't think it ultimately saves a story that seems somewhat empty.

I think, as I was reading, I never felt totally ingrained in the world. It seemed almost aloof in nature, not really explaining certain things or leaving other elements up to interpretation. I mentioned the story seeming somewhat empty, which kind of makes sense for one that has a desert setting and deals with feelings of loneliness in a community and isolating yourself. But there's not really much else that compensates for that space, not in depth worldbuilding or interesting character dynamics. The message is a reassuring one, that your responsibilities in your community shouldn't be a source of isolation, but rather a way to get closer to them. It's a simple, reflective story, which is fine, but I think I was expecting more out of the premise.

The Cloud Roads by Martha Wells (3/5) - Wells certainly has a penchant for emotionally aloof and antisocially prone main characters, but I'm all for it. In a world devoid of humans and populated by a slew of humanoid creatures, the story offers a setting completely alien to the reader, which leaves a lot up to the imagination. At first, it was somewhat difficult for me to properly visualize all the differences between the species. The book already has an appendix for how to differentiate between the Raksura and the Fell, so it would have been helpful to have another that focused on the other races in the world.

I don't know if this is just me, but I thought that it was somewhat odd that, despite possibly coming from a similar ancestor, the Raksura are an all sentient, rational thinking race among all their classes, but the Fell are a mostly animalistic hivemind species aside from their rulers. It kind of made for a messy parallel and I think was to make the reader empathize more with the Raksura and showcase the Fell as entirely evil with no capability for civility. I suppose it certainly helps side with the heroes as the two constantly slaughter each other, but it makes for a pretty boring antagonist that is simply evil scary monsters just because. The story seemed like it had a few opportunities to go deeper than that, as Cloud has a history with them and Wells has shown that she is capable of more nuanced storytelling, but fell off about halfway through.

I wish there had been more time set aside for Cloud to truly learn about his people and reflect on his place in their society before they thrust him into the hierarchical issues and the disputes with the Fell. Cloud has only just found his people for the first time after losing his mother and siblings as a child, wandering alone and hiding what he is from others, and I don't think we get a lot of him reflecting on what that truly means. Also, imagine going through all that, and discovering that your main purpose in that society was basically to breed. Again, may just be a personal thing, but I know that would certainly lead to an existential dilemma for me. Personally, I'm not a fan of society structures as, "you're born as this class, so obviously you must serve that role forever" seems too dystopic for my tastes. Wells subverts this with Chime in a way, but again, doesn't really tap the full ramifications or intrigue behind it.

The Sandman Universe: Nightmare Country Vol 1. by James Tynion IV and Lisandro Estherran (5/5) - It's very rare that I find a Sandman-affiliated comic that I don't like really. I love this world and all the terrifying sorts of beings that live within it. I know Tynion more for his young adult Wynd series, but know that he's very capable at writing horror and Nightmare Country certainly proves it. This comic takes Sandman back to its horror roots, following the Corinthian as a being with teeth for eyes other than him has been stalking a woman in her waking life for some time now. This volume serves as a good setup to the story, getting all our main players in, bringing back some familiar faces and introducing some new ones. With how the story ended, I'm really interested to see where exactly it's going to go.

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson (4/5) (Review)

Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova (3/5) - I feel very lukewarm about Labyrinth Lost. It wasn't a particularly bad book, I think it's just one where I've read similar stories before and they were told in a way that was more gripping to me. I didn't really connect with the simpler writing style, or connect with any of the characters. I think the only elements that I was really interested in was the magic system and the environments of Los Lagos. I'm always a fan of the trope of the tempting feast, the one meant to lure you in with delicious food and fascinating company, only to trick you into eating dirt and keep you there forever. It's a portal fantasy staple, really. 

It may be just a me thing since I was breezing through this book so quickly, but the pacing felt a bit off at times, with the action starting and stopping so often, especially towards the end. I think what really threw me off about the group is that we don't really have a strong trio of characters between Alex, Nova, and Rishi. Usually in fantasies that usually follow a group of three characters off on a typical quest, there's some cohesion to them. They may get off to a rocky start, but eventually they really start to work well as a unit and become stronger for it. Here, the group doesn't really feel like a stable triangle, as they usually range from being incredibly snarky and antagonistic towards each other (Alex and Nova at the start, then Rishi taking over that job from Alex as the two start to get on better) or being completely devoted to each other (Nova warming up to Alex, as well as Rishi being a constant supportive force and that's it). I wish Rishi got some kind of quality that made her more of an asset to the team other than Alex's best friend and love interest. She literally just fell into the portal to Los Lagos after Alex on accident and really doesn't serve a function other than backing Alex up. It doesn't make her that memorable as a character and it's a little disappointing.

I know there's plot reasons as to why they don't really feel like a great team but the twist towards the end probably would have hit a lot harder if they were. 

Other than that, the family dynamic was a great element of the story, which makes it a bummer that we don't really see more of them. I know the sequel follows Alex's sister, which would probably focus a bit more on that aspect, but I don't think I gel enough with this writer or the overall story to continue.

The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson (2/5) - Though I may not have liked this book very much, I will say that I appreciate that it introduced me to an interesting aspect of history that I had not known before, such as the Pack Horse project and the Blue Fugates family. I'm a real big fan of pieces of history that slips through the cracks and lead the way for improvement in societies that were disadvantaged, which was one of the aims of the Pack Horse project. To know the dedication of librarians in this context, to be introduced how they would travel in dangerous conditions to bring people books and magazines that would either give them a relief for their hard lives, or help them learn new skills that would help them contribute in new ways to their families or communities was a much welcome lesson.

That's probably the only praise I can really give this book. I wasn't a fan of how this book centered on the constant sense of tragedy that lingers around Cussy May. It seems that, no matter how little good she experiences, she can't hold onto it for long or it's overshadows by the many, many horrible things that happen to her. Numerous sexual assaults, medical assault, losing so many people. At some point, it almost feels manipulative that we're constantly supposed to feel bad for Cussy, but at some point it gets to be too much to take seriously. Did I feel anger at all the injustice she faced? Sure, as any rational minded person would. But when the only thing your character experiences is constant hardship without any slack, it gets to be real repetitive and boring. And that ending was just the cherry out a cake made out of frustration and emotional exhaustion.

When it came to the author's treatment of race in the book, I'm just gonna say that it's a bit messy in certain scenarios. Framing Cussy, a person with blue skin, as someone who is somehow treated more poorly than the few black people in the community, was, I don't know, probably not a great choice. The scene with the doctor's Jamaican servant (you can tell she's Jamaican because the author makes sure to lean hard into the accent), who doesn't even let Cussy into his house or provide her a drink when he asks her to, just felt a little tone deaf. 

While I'm glad this books highlights the importance of literature within a community, as well as how wealth and information disparity leads people to become more disadvantaged, misinformed, and generally have harder ways of living, its tone and content just felt a little overbearing.

Average Rating: 3.5/5

#robin's book log #reading wrap up #monthly wrap up #murder for the modern girl #all the stars and teeth #mage and the endless unknown #elatsoe #nettle and bone #the moth keeper #the cloud roads #nightmare country #vespertine #labyrinth #the book woman of troublesome creek

[amarriageoftrueminds]

God the Howlies episode in AC was such a debacle. Another thing I’ve noticed is that after she and her team meet with the Howlies she’s essentially under their protection from the misogyny and the constant belittlement of her coworkers. Neither the Howlies nor her fellow agents object to her orders, despite being more experienced in military strategy (on account of actually being in the frontlines and not just cowering in a bunker doing secretary work) and the agents don’t make snarky comments at her like they usually do. She spends the half the season trying to earn her coworkers’ respect (something she verbalizes more than once) so you’d think as the founder of feminism & the lord and savior of poor oppressed silly Betties she wouldn’t take kindly to other men -whether or not they’re her friends- being the source of whatever little respect she gets. But she has no problem using strong and influential men as a reference when other men don’t treat her like she wants them to. Seriously, watching that scene where they were sitting by the bonfire (where they also established that Peggy was not like other girlsTM for loving whiskey. I’ll never get the American fascination with women who drink whiskey) sharing war memories was so cringeworthy. It’s like the scene in every high school movie where the freshman hegemon sees the awkward kid they bully be friends with the cool seniors and feels insecure when they laugh around, tell funny stories and share inside jokes; then starts to act like they’ve been friends with the awkward kid all along to stay in the cool kids’ good graces. It’s so fanfic-like. Peggy Carter is a glorified Y/N.

continuation of (XX)

You’re completely right. She’s a Canon Sue. 

They really looked at a comics character based on Virginia Hall (i.e. real peg-legged American heroine who managed to stay undercover in Nazi-occupied France twice, despite having a thick Baltimore accent, and helped captured Resistance fighters break out of Gestapo prison!!) 

...and thought ‘hmm yeah she’s boring let’s incorporate the Nazi woman instead and ignore the other non-Nazi love interests (they’re Jewish) oh and let’s make her a Bletchley Park codebreaker and a martial artist boxer and friends with a billionaire inventor and she has a Tragic Past and-’  

All she’s missing is the long ebony black hair with purple streaks and red tips that reaches her mid-back and icy blue eyes like limped tears. 💅 

(The irony of them doing all this thinking they’re making her Steve’s equal by it, when in fact it’s doing the exact opposite. She has no power or significance outside of a man. Steve is his own original character with shown competence and independent motives and backstory; she’s just a cheap mirror who follows everything he does. The very idea of a dance partner means she cannot perform her only function without a man. Even in WhatIf her only powers or accomplishments are all just Steve’s.) 

.

As for the Howlies ep; yeah it’s just more of the cringey mythologising of a past she never actually had (how Disney!) 

She wasn’t on the Continent with the Howlies. 

She wasn’t any kind of a soldier or fighter. 

Her training is not in anything that would be of use or interest to them. 

(They’ve got a tech/radio guy in Morita, a translator in Gabe, an explosives / French geography / Resistance Underground expert in Frenchy, airborne assault expert in Monty, an expert sniper / Hydra lab-internee in Bucky (the only reason they even know there’s a Valkyrie base is because he told Steve! without him, Hydra would’ve blown up half the world!), extra muscle from Dum-dum, all the gadgetry they need from Stark, all the aerial recon they need from Stark’s planes, and Steve’s brilliant tactical mind.

What, exactly, would they need her for?? Carrying more clipboards? Tidying more flags off maps? Missing more saboteurs? Not getting to more grenades on time?? More irrational attacking of Steve?? Hmm. I guess she would be pretty good practise for having a Nazi nutjob around who could fly off the handle at any moment... 

If there were more Howlies than shown in CATFA, they wouldn’t even need her as a spare pair of hands -- they accidentally made her even more irrelevant!) 

And if she’s supposed to be a spy: 

1) she definitely wouldn’t be wherever they are, she’d be undercover somewhere, where a spy would be needed; 

2) why would she walking around with the famous guys and appearing in public showreels, thus blowing her cover and rendering her even more useless than she is already? 

As well as having zero military experience or background, Pggy has no rank.

As Steve himself clearly pointed out when he ignored her ‘orders’ on the plane, she has no right to boss Commandos (or Agents) around. She’s just so in love with the sound of her own voice that she assumes (in ignorance of how society actually works for non posh people) that her high opinion of herself = the right to be in charge. 

Very typical Upper Class assumption of superiority. 

All her scenes with the Howlies are straight up lies.

She wasn’t even on first name terms with Bucky, the original Howlie! 

And to paper over this giant crack, they just introduce new Howlies, as if to say ‘ohh, yeah, she did spend loads of time with them, it was just characters you didn’t see, it was just off screen.’

Newsflash, fucker! That’s not how characterisation works! 

Hmm okay, I just decided Pggy’s actually a many-tentacled alien in disguise as a human. It’s just that the scene where you found that out was off-screen. 

And, ah yes, spirits. Yet another thing they've stolen from Erskine and Bucky -- the only people in all of CATFA shown drinking them (by choice).

(Steve and the Howlies, including Dum-dum, drink beer in the pub scene, when they are at liberty to choose their poison. Pggy is never shown drinking at all. But hey, why let a silly thing like consistency get in the way of further bullshit!)

The people writing really think that what makes a character good is just ‘introduce them and then show how great they are by having every other character kiss their ass. Job done!' 

Kind of like a reverse Whorf Effect. They don’t have to actually go to the bother of showing us how she’s great, exactly, they can just tell us she’s great -- because everyone says so! 

What’s laughable is that HA’s really out there saying Pggy doesn’t need external validation. 

If that were the case, she wouldn’t be throwing temper tantrums and shooting at Steve in public when he’s interested in someone else, or defining her whole life around him. And she would never once say anything about getting her male colleagues’ respect because, actually, if she didn’t need their validation, she would never mention it; she would be indifferent to them, (gaining their respect as a motivation would never even cross her mind.) 

In fact, they show us her in every iteration being absolutely desperate for male validation. The classic ‘not like the other girls’ Pick Me. (Tbh I think probably the writers are too old to be aware of this; their politics are still in the 90s). 

Most damning of all is the ‘I know my value’ line. 

Passing over the absolutely rancid ‘I’m a cool girl -- and cool girls’ don’t complain!’ vibes (oppressed people should just shut up about it -- as long as they know they’re oppressed, that’s all that matters. Hmm. Sounds like something a Republican would say.) 

It’s said to stop a male colleague going and speaking up for women’s recognition in the workplace. 

It shows that actually Pggy doesn’t give a shit about feminism. She wants herself, personally, to be respected by the men... but not women generally! 

(Textbook white feminism. Has the glass ceiling shattered for her by powerful men, by virtue of her class, and then as soon as she’s given power to help other women, she instead immediately rebuilds the glass ceiling underneath herself, when it looks like there’s a danger of other women slipping through. They cannot be allowed to do that, since their presence would undermine the idea of her specialness, for being the only woman there.) 

If instead Pggy had insisted on being given recognition, as a woman... that would’ve had a positive effect on all the other female workers in the SSR. 

But they’re not the Main Girl, so who gives a shit, right? 🙄

#long post #antipeggy #antisteggy #p*ggy meta #mcu meta #mcu critical #steggy is hydra trash party #ac meta #toAyourQ #hey nonny #dat's me #meta #mcu #yet each man queues the thing he loves #the AC Anon #tw peggy

[jerseyluck]

Suicide Squad (1987) #9 Readthrough

Suicide Squad #9 is a tie-in to the then current DC event: Millenium. This event was focused on The Guardian of The Universe (a Green Lantern concept) launch a new group to take over their duties. There were opposed by the Manhunters who used this vulnerability of The Guardians to take control of the universe. The big gimmick in the tie-ins for the event, was that members of the supporting cast were revealed to Manhunter plants, waiting to be activated to serve the Manhunter cause.

The comic starts off by giving a description of the events of Millenium and the Squad’s mission of destroying a Manhunter base located near Belle Reve Prison. (Sounds like coincidence? I will give Millennium this; it sures makes The Manhunter’s invasion seem well thought out.) They will do this by driving a bomb that will destroy the area, but the Squad won’t be able to escape in time before the bomb goes off. This is a true suicide mission.

The team on this mission is Bronze Tiger as field commander, Deadshot, Captain Boomerang, The Privateer (Mark Shaw), Rick Flag, Slipknot, and Flag’s ex Karin Grace. During the voyage, Captain Atom shows up, realizes that the team is on a suicide mission, and gets into a fight with Firestorm (who the Manhunters convinced that he was working for them) which is resolved in his own book.

Meanwhile, Amanda Waller is annoyed with political events and worries that Batman (that was part of the main Millenium series where Batman is looking for Mark Shaw but is told that he has been released) is going to be a pain in her butt later.

We cut back to the swamp and find the squad being ambushed by Manhunter robots. The Manhunters usually fight the Green Lanterns and the Justice League, so it does not go well for gun focused Suicide Squad. They managed to win but Bronze Tiger injured himself pretty badly, Grace was captured, and Slipknot escaped (which means the bomb goes off and he loses an arm).

Flag and Shaw decide to continue the mission while Bronze Tiger, Deadshot, and Captain Boomerang are left behind. When the pair enters the Manhunter’s temple, they see Karin in peril. Shaw figures it a trap, but Flag decides that he isn’t going to repeat the mistakes of the past and goes to save her.

And that turns out to be a bad idea. Karin was recruited by the Manhunter cult during the time she was injured in the hospital. She and a Manhunter, who claims to be Shaw, take down the pair.

It all seems hopeless for the heroes until they are bailed out by events in The Spectre’s book. All the Manhunters robots start to break down giving the squad an opening.

Filled with regret, Karin decides that she is going to be the one to finish the mission and drive the bomb to its location. The squad regroups and are spared the full blast of explosion. The only causality of this event is Karin Grace.

This comic is a bit of mixed bag overall. If you are just reading Suicide Squad, then you are thrown into the deep end of what turned out to be a very mediocre event comic. But there are hints of events going on in other books. I will give DC credit by saying that there is a tell (the covers of this issue of Suicide Squad, The Spectre, Detective Comics, and Captain Atom’s covers form one big image when put together) but 35 years later and it is hard to notice. The story of this issue manages to be fun.

But the biggest problem is that the traitor reveal just happens too early in the run. If you are just reading Suicide Squad, then there has been little Karin Grace content in this book. This could be a huge gut-punch if it happened like a year later, but all we know about Karin is that she was Flag’s old teammate and ex-girlfriend. Grace is just a classic example of fridging.

#dc comics #amanda waller #captain boomerang #deadshot #rick flag #bronze tiger #manhunter #slipknot #captain atom #millenium #john ostrander #luke mcdowell #read through

[huggingtentacles]

A story about an invasion I had, and a cautionary tale for those who hide behind their friends' backs, while they play the game for you.

So I invade a coop of three: The host is a mage, and the phantoms are Bullgoat bleed build and a sleep build. This gank is arguably as cancerous as it gets, the phantoms are absurdly overpowered. And here I am, a humble strength build, with nothing but perfumes in my bag and pants full of confidence.

I spawn in Caelid, inside the Caelem Ruins, already surrounded by these three idiots. I see that these coopers are your typical "Let my two overlevelled friends babysit me through the game" kind. Which means that the host, who is a mage, is probably going to be an easy picking, if I manage to close the distance. These phantoms, however, oof... Back in Dark Souls 3 we called them "thirsty" because those are the kind that would chase you to the end of the world, ignoring every other threat. These are hard to deal with in Elden Ring, especially if there are multiple of them, supported by a mage spamming his spells.

I took some beating, but I managed to escape the ruins. I remembered that there are a bunch of Lesser Kindred of Rot enemies further down the Caelid Highway. I run to them and basically hide behind them, but the phantoms COMPLETELY ignore them and continue chasing me down, which caught me completely off guard, so I took a hit again.

But the host... The host is not following me. The host does not use his spells to kill the dangerous enemies that threaten his phantoms' life. This is a mistake that will dramatically tip the odds in my favour. The Kindred of Rot enemies distract the bleed build guy, and I make quick work of the Saint Trina's swords user, thanks to the fact that I'm just better at the game than him. These builds may be powerful, but they're nothing if you can't hit me.

The host hears his phantom screaming in despair, as I slice him up and burn what remains of him. But there is one more phantom remaining. Surely he would do the job?

The Kindred of Rot enemies go down, and I'm left to a 1v1 against a bleed build with two blood infused Godskin Peelers. This fight was a bit tougher, because the phantom was obviously overlevelled. He hit me once, which almost killed me. But immediately after that he got greedy and instead of healing up tried to rush me down, which I took advantage of and pulled off a fat combo. After that I boldly hardswapped to my chasedown weapon right in his face, he was too scared to hit me, and started panic rolling.

The host saw that his phantom was in trouble, and started running towards me. I had limited time to finish off the phantom. It was difficult due to latency, even with a heavy thrusting sword. When the cocky bleed build finally went down, I turned around, only to see the most magnificent view: the host, doing a comically fast 180° and hitting the bricks into the opposite direction.

That chasedown was... Well, violent, mostly. I admit, the way I punished that mage was borderline abusive, because I applied scarlet rot and made him drink all of his healing flasks. He ran to the site of grace, praying that perhaps the Gods would save him, maybe Queen Marika herself would descend from the Erdtree to alleviate his ailments and give him some healing back, or maybe revived his phantoms again.

But in the end, the cowardly mage succumbed to scarlet rot. You might say I'm evil for doing it like this, but in my opinion, the host totally deserved it. May it be a lesson, so that the host will participate in the fight in the future, instead of cowardly waiting for his phantoms to do the job.

#elden ring #shitpost #elden ring pvp #invader talk #elden ring invasions

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Absolutely MAD that while I was getting this scene ready to post, the news about the Artagan comic dropped. TIMING I HAVE IT.

Anyway, I'm halfway through with the next chapter and inventory is finally over, so I can stop being so damn exhausted. Here's another conversation with Jester and Artie- this arc is full of them.

-

Jester suddenly felt an overwhelming need for fresh air and dove into her haversack to retrieve a fistful of incense- at least that wasn’t stolen. “I’m gonna go talk to Artie,” she called, and was gone before anyone could stop her. The people of Vo in their practiced clockwork patterns of behavior barely needed to adjust themselves to accommodate her rushing through the village to find a private space at the outskirts where the mist was still thin and shied away from the dawn peeking through gaps in the thick tangles of jungle trees.

She fumbled with the incense like a nervous little novice in the back of some country chantry and swore a blue streak about it until she managed to get it lit. In the dirt, she drew a caricature of Lydas out of the basic shape of a dick with a talon.

“I think you’ve captured his likeness perfectly.”

She looked up to see Artagan, bent fully double, leaning over the top of her. His long red hair formed a curtain around her and despite her anger and frustration and sorrow, she was relieved that not only had he come, but he’d been quick about it.

She had three questions, but she was going to make them count this time and keep him here as long as possible. There was too much she needed to know right now. “Beau thinks you did all this on purpose to kill us.”

See? Not a question. And judging by the way Artagan snapped up to his full height in shock without a hint of that weird evasiveness he sometimes got, it likely wasn’t true. “What does she know? I’m an archfey, dear heart. Up until a couple of decades ago, my kind didn’t generally set foot on this plane. How am I expected to know every minute detail about it?”

He paced with all the grace of an affronted rooster. “Jester, I am fully capable of lying, but I only lie when it’s funny. There is nothing funny about this situation.”

She squinted up at him and found the same weighted anxiety she found in Nicodranas and back in the Menagerie bearing down on him. She fought the urge to twist her ring and take another peek into his thoughts, because it might disrupt the ritual. She still had three questions, after all- she’d just tricked him into giving her a freebie.

“How did you hear about it?”

He collapsed onto the ground like it was a fainting couch, vines moving to support him at a command. “Oh I was in some port or another and overheard a pair of gamblers telling stories about mysterious islands and inspiration came to me.”

Gamblers? Jester looked down at her necklace. The Changebringer was the goddess of gamblers and Lucien mentioned that he’d seen her in one of his visions, that she had been the one to deliver this island from the demon lord, but the people turned away from her in the aftermath. Maybe she wanted them here to make things right… But if that were so, why not tell Artagan directly the way Sehanine sometimes did? Was it because Sehanine was fey too?

“If we kill… Avocado, does that fix the island?”

He hemmed and hawed about it with a puzzled expression. “Not exactly. It might certainly fix the people. He’s… exacerbating a problem that was already here, I think.” Off her look of confusion, he sighed. “Well, once I made the mess, I had to figure out how much shit I was really in. Just because I didn’t do my research going in doesn’t mean I can’t do it now.”

“Oh. Well that’s good.” Relief she was starting to worry she was going to never feel again flooded her and she found herself relaxing. “We can totally kill him.”

Artagan waved his hand. “He’s less of a god than I am and that’s saying something. Powerful, yes, to do what he’s done here, but again, it’s because he’s exacerbating something already here.” That would be a whole other issue, but Jester was less worried about that. Freeing the people would, at the very least, open up the possibility of dealing with the other issues without any risk of being consumed again.

She tongued her cheek, trying to figure out how to phrase this next bit without it being a question. “I bet you could beat him.���

That got a laugh out of him. “Oh my dear sweet girl, I don’t fight. I get other people to fight for me.” He blanched, realizing how that must have come out, and Jester was left wondering how much of her own disappointment showed on her face to garner that reaction. Sometimes wanting the answer and not wanting the answer ran parallel and it was a crapshoot which one you ended up tripping over in the end.

She didn’t want to waste her last question on what was painfully obvious: Is that what this is?

Could she really be pissed at him if the answer was yes? If her theory was right and the Changebringer had put Artagan in the path of this on a gambler’s folly to see what would happen, then it was just as much her fault as his. The Raven Queen marched them in and out of all sorts of dangers, too. This was all connected- the things that scared Melora and the Champion and even Artagan so badly during that commune weeks ago and Rumblecusp- and every god was doing their part. Artie just had to be dragged by the ear to do his.

She blew a raspberry. Last question and she couldn’t even think of a good one. “Did Avocado steal our shit or did the Vo do it? ‘Cause we’re gonna be fucked if we don’t have diamonds.”

Artagan snorted. “I think the Vo have more sense than that. They steal people by taking advantage of their lack of memory, but that’s excusable. Petty theft is a bit beyond their beliefs.”

“I figured we could definitely get it all back if someone was just hiding it all.” She rubbed at her temples. “So I guess we’re fighting a volcano squid that’s scared of the Somnovem.” She gasped. Fuck! That was what she should have asked about. Seeing he was still here, reclining on his fainting couch of vines, she leaned forwards. “Did you hear about that? Did you see the way he freaked out about Molly? Oh man.”

“I did, actually.” The vines behind him pushed him forwards until they were practically nose to nose, “It’s wild, isn’t it? Maybe you’ll be able to use it.”

Oh fuck. Oh man. He was going to leave. She reached out and grabbed his hair in her fists like a toddler because they were the closest thing she could reach. His green-and-gold-flecked eyes widened. “I don’t blame you,” she blurted out. “I was mad about everything before and yeah, it’s shitty, but it’s not your fault.”

I need you to know that, just in case the island makes me forget or it makes me lash out like Beau did.

“It is a bit my fault,” he said, blinking slowly, the words awkward and followed by a disgusted look like the mere admittance of being wrong about something made him sick. “But I appreciate you not… Hating me for it. I never meant for it to be like this, Jester.”

“I know.”

“I mean, some of these people are actually surprisingly uptight. I don’t even know why they’re following me? Do you think it’s about clout? ‘Oh look, I worship a god no one has ever heard of.’ It’s like they don’t even read the tenets.”

She had to fight hard not to giggle. “Do you like actually have tenets?”

“No. The appeal was it being… Open to interpretation and about dismantling the high and mighty and having fun- oh you know what. Yes, I see where that might attract a certain kind of person. But! That’s the point. They could have clearly benefited from an island that grants fresh starts. I thought of it more as a resort as opposed to a horror show.”

“Yeah, I mean it’s not that bad. It worked for Molly!” Her heart sank at the mention of Molly, caught between being upset again at the way he was behaving and upset even more that Lucien had lost his memories when he fought so hard to gain purchase on his sense of self. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from Artagan’s hair and dropped them onto her lap.

Rather than immediately leave- as if he couldn’t have gone with her fists in his hair- he tapped her chin with the edge of her finger to get her to look up at him.

“I meant what I said, Jester. I am very glad you’ve forgiven me. I don’t think I deserve it. I may never do anything to deserve it. It doesn’t make me any less happy. To have you be disappointed in me and remain that way would be excruciating. I don’t think you realize how impressive that is.”

A tiny smile pulled on the corner of her lips. “Are you gonna be close?”

“Jester, my darling, I have always been close. Even when you think I’m not.” He vanished in a wash of absinthe and evergreen and she breathed it in and let it fill her lungs and steel her against whatever else might come today so that she might keep her head and her heart in balance, despite everything moving to throw her out of sorts.

They didn’t have much time.

This was chaos, wasn’t it? That was what made the island the way it was. And it wasn’t order that balanced chaos, but a different kind of chaos that canceled it out entirely.

Her kind.

#cr fic #wip wednesday #you can't deny high noon