#Rusty Blitz

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Young Frankenstein 1974

[yellowsnow77]

Rusty Egan presents Blitzed!

Estamos a 7 de enero y las novedades musicales siguen de vacaciones. Así que no me queda más remedio que empezar este 2025 con una de esas recopilaciones que tanto me gustan en las que se repasa un momento concreto de la historia de la música. Esta vez me voy a finales de los setenta y principio de los ochenta para acudir al Blitz!, el club que llevó la modernidad y el colorido a una Londres que,…

[isforever]

“I like you.” Stabbymaid for blitzo

@stabbymaid / unprompted .

" yeah ? " he smirks slightly, eyes studying the sinner. she's... one of the smaller ones, which hey, he's okay with a potential client not towering over him. head tilts to the side as he studies her. " you'r enot half bed yourself, pipsqueak. but you know, if you're lookin' to hire me you don't gotta butter me up. ya want me to kill someone for ya? i'll give you the 'butterin' up blitzø' discount... 2% off! "

[jaynedolluk]

Got the latest issue of Classic Pop which had a fantastic piece on The Blitz nightclub (to tie with the new compilation curated by Rusty Egan based on the music he used to play at The Blitz). Plus they had pieces on New Jack Swing and the best 20 comeback singles (Ordinary World by Duran Duran was at No 1)

Also got Uncut as they had a big feature on one of my all-time favourite bands, Royal Trux as well as a little piece on the Cornish folk scene and a review of the new documentary on Anita Pallenberg, Catching Fire.

[ephemaera-arch]

the scoff crawls across his skin and blitz can feel himself clenching his jaw. can stolas honestly not tell he's here to apologize? or is he going to keep acting like he's the only one who got hurt? because blitz knows good and goddamn well that if that's how it's gonna go, he's not going to be leaving without exploding again. and as much as a part of him wants to give in to that, the rest of him really fucking doesn't.

"i'm here to fucking talk to you!" he cries, immediately schooling himself into something calmer. eyes shut, shoulders tensed up and released. "i just want to talk. like, actually talk. okay?" he sizes up the demon, trying to suss out how he's feeling. blitz can't take it if this just winds up like last time. "listen," he starts, unable to meet stolas's eye, "i know i blew up at you, okay? but you... you decided how i felt the second i was done talking. and that– that wasn't fucking fair. i get that it hurts your feelings that i thought you were joking, i get that. but shit, don't you think it might have been about me?" he shakes his head, hating every second of this but knowing that if he has any intention of sleeping at night ever again, it has to happen. "you said... you said i must think lowly of you. didn't it ever occur to you that i–" and it's like he can't breathe. he doesn't want to say this, he really doesn't fucking want to say this. "did you not fucking think it might be that i think lowly of me?"

a scoff escapes his lips, and stares intently at the pages as though he's actually absorbing any of it. but of course, he knows he's long past the comet. the pages of the book are now about the battle of borodino. the ravages of war, and the death that comes with it. he find a sort of kindred spirit in the protagonist… maybe mortal authors and their humanity were universal, even in the depths of hell.

he glances up, and at the words and the mention of the party, he closes the book. of course, the night had been wonderful, at least after the party. he hadn't answered any of the texts from the incubus in question… he was waiting for a specific text from a certain person. who of course, was now in front of him. he wants to be angry, he wants to throw the book at him… but instead he sits it down on the table next to his wine glass. “ i didn't give you a second to think? and now you've had plenty of seconds to think… ” he'd given him the greatest gift he could, an escape from their arrangement. he knows that maybe he did it wrong, maybe he should've done things differently… and he draws a sharp breath but the hurt wells up in his chest again. “ i meant what i said, that i - i care about you. if you don't believe me, i can't… convince you of that. ” a sharp inhale, the need to keep his composure has long been instilled into him and the wine isn't even enough to give him a buzz. “ what are you doing here then, blitz ? ”

[spiderlilyvalley]

2 Corinthians 11:13-14 says, "For such men are false apostles, deceitful workers, fashioning themselves into apostles of Christ. And no marvel; for even Satan fashioneth himself into an angel of light.

Anyway, this is Ducki from @galactic-blitz. Drawn in anticipation of me and Whisp's watch party!!! MY THEORY BETTER BE RIGHT!!! 🐥

Sorry for the strange look, trying to get back into digital art and I'm a bit rusty...

Also, whoever can find the painting I directly referenced in this gets a BIG OL pat on the back :33

[bigdvmnhero]

relationships: dick & bruce

word count: 5,406

summary:

On the 96th day Bruce didn't call, Dick remembered their old game. Three things he knew: 1) In three months, it would be Dick's death anniversary; 2) Bruce was still missing his check-ins; 3) Here Dick was, persisting. Imagine the things I'd survive, Dick thought distantly, if I loved Bruce less.

Or: Agent 37 and his various crises of faith, on Day 277 at Spyral, Day 150, and Day -0.

"Imagine: to ask and to be answered. Even the son of god knows what it is to beg and be met with silence. —Passiontide, L.T.

i.

On the 96th day Bruce didn't call, Dick remembered their old game. There were two kinds of faith, Dick had tried to tell her—the one children had, and the tired, worn thing you held onto like balloon string long after the POP; the helium-high; the bright yellow of it in smithereens over your good shoes.

Dick had smiled as if to say, Guess what I got.

Her file read: Abigail, ex-military. Current head of the Sisters of the Ascended Veil. Her sneer said: unbeliever. Around her neck, the cross-shaped security pass that would allow Dick's team and several concussed Hadrian girls access to the bunker below the missionary outpost.

Through his in-ear, Helena barked over gunfire, "Get us shelter, Grayson. We'll handle Chang."

Chang, the rampaging meta in the sky. The ground shook with each distant blast. Tiger grunted, "Allah have mercy—" then came a staticky CRUNCH, a sound of which could've been anything from a tungsten rifle or a body, flattened like a sad, watery diner pancake.

Nerve strike, grab the pass, get it over with, Grayson. But Holy Head Honcho had taken one look at Dick and announced a bankruptcy of faith. Like Dick wasn't fluent in the daily death-defying act that was his life. Sure, his Catholicisms were a little rusty. His Talmud, worse. He had a pocket rosary from his mom that was missing two beads. Some of the old Bludhaven PD were severe Protestants, from whom Dick stole a fun Jesus fact he liked to pull out during parties, which was that when Jesus cried out at the ninth hour, a time for the regular ol' lamb sacrifice, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?—which of course meant, My God, my god, why have you forsaken me?—did you know it wasn't the pain of crucifixion that freaked Jesus out so much, but abandonment? Of separation eternal? How the sin of man, cast on his shoulders, had blackened his soul, cutting him off from his beloved father/brother/self in one?

Your "fun fact" is kind of a buzzkill, actually, Roy told him once. So Dick's experience with religion was a little slapdash. Sue him. It was just funny, was all. The Sisters, serving only God and various iron-fisted strongmen of the south, were said to possess a faith so absolute they could give Lanterns a run for their money—and even then they'd never know the scale of the miracles Dick had seen: 1) In three months, it would be Dick's death anniversary; 2) Bruce was still missing his check-ins; 3) here Dick was, persisting.

Closer now, the orange blitz on the horizon. Abigail stood before the imposing door of the outpost and did not budge. "You insist on entering holy ground with your… polluted soul. Even if what you say is true, Man With No Face, and there is a hidden bunker beneath this land, only the Lord's handmaiden may—"

"Enter holy ground, yes, yes, of course." Dick peered over her purple habit, into the black eye of the CCTV camera. Waved for the whole congregation watching. "Is it the whole… me being a dude thing? Fair enough, but you'll take my girls, won't you? They're just children." Children behind him groaned in a heap of limbs. Stowaway stalkers, really, but under Dick's protection, like all kids by default; a fact that would continue until the end of time. "You love children."

His Hypnos spasmed as Abigail blinked, rebuffing the mental suggestion of care-love-cute aggression.

"Or not?" Dick rubbed the baby fever from his eyes. "Huh. Guess having a maternal instinct's totally passé now."

"Your wicked offspring have no room here, outsider. Adopting strays is not the work of Handmaiden."

"So you'll let me do it for you? Good idea." One more time: the illusion whirled hot behind his eyes, bright as confetti. "You've wanted help for so long. I'll make it easy. I raised a few strays myself, y'know, they turned out great." Dick winced and did not think of Damian, the cold damp square of earth in the ground. "Wow, you're so relieved I'm here, huh? I clean, I cook, I make a kickass French toast—"

Sister Bitch put her hand in his face. "We do not gorge ourselves on the Sabbath. Enough, I can feel your… evil, in my head. Whispering, testing me. But my will is strong, as all my handmaids are." His earpiece crackled again: "WHERE'S MY EVAC, GRAYSON," boomed Tiger's voice, ornery and magnificent, and Dick almost broke character with relief. Abigail moved behind the door to bolt it closed. "If God wills you to die today, Man With No Face, then so be it."

Dick shoved a Hadrian crossbow into the gap. Good metal; vanadium. Dick could kiss it.

"Sorry, God, not dying today."

"You claim to know God's will!"

"Not God's." Dick grinned at her fury-blotched face. "Just a man's."

Earlier, while she'd monologued about his apocryphal nature, Dick had noticed the discoloration on her crucifix. It was the kind that could only come from restless hands. Skin bitten off, nailbed raw and cracked. Was this kinship, then? There was no gun, no gauntlet or secret spy gizmo that could rival the intensity of her conviction, Dick knew that now, except for what he always had, inexplicable and ordinary as his own hands. A battle of devotion was a battle Dick was always going to win.

"Remember? That day, you were careless. You lost everything, in front of so many people, and they—they just watched. But that man… he saved you. Took you in." Dick edged his foot into the door. "You've been falling for so long, Abigail, but he caught you. He caught you."

Abigail's face went slack. Dick felt bad for turning the crankshaft all the way; now her irises began to whirl in time with his—lazy at first, then fast, faster; trenchant like bloody pinwheels.

"Hasn't been easy, huh? Yeah, I hear ya. It breaks you up inside, to be away from everything you love, you even turned to religion. But he hasn't forgotten you." This would never get old: seeing the false memory annex the room in a person's mind, shuffling the furniture, slapping new paint on the walls. "C'mon, Abbie. Don't you remember? How good it all was?"

The early years—warmth traded under a heavy cape—a steady weathered hand on his back, like a new limb, a new wing—careening down dirt highways, soft rock on the radio—wind and rain; tinsel and dazzle—learning to divine the city's thousand moods, its metals—Gotham's rooftops unfolding beneath their feet, a pop-up picture book, and they were the kings of this land—they were winning the games, shooting threes, giving the people what they want—they were burning—burning something holy—

Abigail whimpered. Clutched her head. Dick felt several nerves burst; his or hers?

"He was just one man, but he—" What was he saying now? "He changed the world for you. He changed, for—for—"

Finally, Abigail staggered back, like whatever she saw was unbearable. "Dear God."

Dick reached for her. Panicked, he realized his Hypnos was still churning, memory after over-saturated memory, an engine with no kill switch. He fought a wave of tinfoil-flavored nausea. Found his feet. He'd been abridging the images as they streamed out of him—cutting Bruce Wayne out of The Batman to spare his identity—only for his feelings to cloud the system, a poison agent too sticky and hot and impossible to delineate. All he wanted, dammit, was to make her like the man, the way socialites and fanboys did—or at least dip her finger in the pool of Dick's great unpayable debt—so she'd open the bunker gates once Dick asked. Blood sprang up his eyes; the world lurched Looney Tunes-style. Imagine the things I'd survive, Dick thought distantly, if I loved Bruce less. Too late now, anyway; the Hypnos was still free-wheeling—an infinite carousel ride from hell where Dick was both the prancing horse and its white-knuckled passenger; he was in all the horses, all the seats; in one, he was swearing a candlelight oath—in another, nine years old, dying on a gurney—he was choking on radioactive fumes—he was watching Bruce as he suffocated by Lex's hand and saw the naked, childlike terror on his face, and even then Dick loved him; his wrong god, always too late—

Abigail reached out, seeing in threes. "Batman—"

"Yeah, he—" Another wave of sugary rust, pastel bile. "He's—even after everything that's happened—despite what you feel, he's—worthy. Of your loyalty. Of your—" Dick caught himself on the doorframe. "He has a mission for you."

Fingers clawed at her habit. "I can't—"

"You can. You will." Something too thick to be tears trickled down Dick's cheeks. It stained his teeth when he smiled. "Robin," he said, "that's you."

Abigail collapsed to her knees like someone shot.

The first symptom of Hypnos overuse was a fucked up vestibular system. Leaky Ear, Helena called it. Left was right and up was down was all around. Eventually, Dick made his way through the gap in the door and reached her.

"Oh God—how do—b-but if—" she stammered. "I'm Robin—"

"Yeah," Dick agreed, then with more enthusiasm, "Yay."

"What have I—?" She grabbed his shoulder like it was a ledge she was falling from. "I'm failing him."

"Not yet. There's still time. There's a meta out there, hurting your good neighbors. My friends are taking care of it, but they'll all need evac eventually. They're gonna come knocking, and you're going to let them all in. They'll need food, medical attention. You won't turn anyone away, Abigail, every life is precious, and we don't—what the hell. You know this part already."

"Food, shelter, yes," she mumbled. "I catch people, yes. I'm Robin."

"That you are, and that you do, so now—"

"I'm his partner, yes. His best friend. His—"

"Robin, focus." Dick shook off a dumb hot flash of irritation. "Aren't you gonna tell your ladies to open the bunker?"

In minutes of memory-planting, thirty feet of military-grade steel gates surrounding the outpost slid belowground, revealing the bright green manicured lawn of The Ascended Veil. The Hadrian girls cheered then fainted again. At least Tiger wasn't bellyaching on the comms anymore.

"Great job, Rob," Dick said. Then he blacked out.

(read the rest on ao3)

[pipsqueakparker]

the third act break up

helluva boss isn't a romance but it also kind of is, and if we're considering romance genre tropes/structure, we're mid-third act break up right now.... which is one of my least favorite tropes BUT in this case, it's being played well and the writers are using it to genuinely deepen/further blitz's character

just in comparison, i'm almost finished reading this book that lowkey highkey sucks - i'm not gonna name it, i don't like shitting directly on a book usually, but it's the 3rd in a series of romance books & in it we ofc have the third act break up done in a bad way. (pls don't take this as me shitting on the romance genre at all, i adore romance books, i even liked this author's first book)

1, the stakes: the stakes for blitz & stolas (relationship-wise) are like kinda mundane really but feel so fucking high because we see how genuinely they feel for each other and we've watched that change over the course of the show - especially here in season 2. when it comes to stakes, they don't have to literally be life or death, they just have to feel that way to the characters and then by extension to us.

"when i see him tonight" gave us the stakes, that song alone solidified how much this relationship means to both of them. "i'll fucking die alone if this goes bad" - yes, thank you stolas, i feel that.

in comparison, in this book, the stakes are shaky. the mc is a woman who's never felt good enough to be loved & doesn't want a traditional relationship that ends in marriage and children & the love interest is an actor with big dreams that gets an offer to do a show across the country. we're being told they're high, but it's not really being SHOWN. i don't feel it, i don't feel like these characters will really fucking die if one of them moves across the country for six months, y'know?

2, the miscommunication/lack of communication: another trope i hate is miscommunication/lack of communication - unless it makes sense.

in the book, love interest never tells mc about the job offer - but for why? it gets blamed on her anxiety disorder, which i also took issue with the portrayal of that, but it never digs deeper into why she really feels like telling mc about the job offer could negatively impact their relationship. (it's still new, it might make the mc feel pre-abandoned, etc. etc there are so many ways this COULD have been something to not mention, but instead.... she just didn't)

blitz & stolas? they literally just can't sit down and have a calm chat, and that makes fucking sense for them as characters. @rusty-lustful-fireflies made this post comparing their trauma responses that i thought was brilliant -def check it out, and in the meantime i'll summarize it like this: blitz lashes out and stolas folds in. their conversation in full moon is one of the best examples of a misunderstanding between two characters i've seen, they are both taking each other's words the wrong way, but it makes sense as to why they're doing that. when stolas asks for the grimoire back, blitz immediately jumps to abandonment, he's lost everyone in his life and he has this one really really good thing going with stolas that he doesn't want to change and bam. it's changing. he's angry. he's going to say it.

stolas... could have worded things better, i understand why that was blitz's first thought, but stolas was trying to make it this grand gesture and it just wasn't hitting your audience, sweetie. blitz wasn't made for grand romantic gestures, he's a ball of trauma. and he acts accordingly. and stolas, in response, realizes "i've buffed it", is probably triggered from getting yelled at considering HIS own trauma.... i could deep dive their conversations at the end of FM and the beginning of AT, but we've all analyzed those to death. we get it. the point is... it made sense. neither of them were technically in the right or the wrong, it was just genuinely not being able to effectively communicate because they were both heightened and thus... we get the third act break up that's not really a break up. which brings me to...

3, the aftermath/development: yes, the third act breakup is meant to be the thing that pushes our characters to actually fix something within themselves... and we're still mid break up, but with ghostfuckers, i think we can see that being done. one thing specifically stood out to me as evidence that this is something more significant to blitz than any usual fight or breakup.

this post from @timkontheunsure was the first one i saw discussing this part, and i've gotta say i agree wholeheartedly with it & i think this is the beginnings of genuine development for blitz. to summarize in my own words (but def go read their post too):

blitz isn't just fucked up on the idea of being/dying alone anymore, when he was fucked up on that he just went to find someone else to fuck and forget it. no, now blitz is fucked up on not having stolas specifically, and it's much deeper, to the point that he's beyond just fucking someone else to forget it. no one else could do it. he's gotta turn to the ghosts. it's the difference in coping that we're shown that makes this moment different, and this moment being different, in addition to blitz finally admitting verbally that he's fucked up over stolas in that last moment with millie, that leads me to believe we're going to get genuine character growth over the next two episodes.

and this was what made me start thinking and typing up this post, because i'm nearing the end of this book, we're mid third act breakup, and this mc is similar to blitz in her desires to have a relationship but not the way everyone expects her to have one, and in her favorite method of coping: fucking someone else until she's not sad anymore. this is how she meets the love interest, and she tries to use it again mid-book when she & love interest are fake dating and she's sad that they're not real dating - and, then, we get the break up, love interest is gone.... and she turns right back to "i gotta find someone else to fuck to get over it".... and normally i probably wouldn't have thought twice, but this time i did. because we got that fucking beautiful example of the difference between coping with being lonely & coping with being without the person you love in ghostfuckers yesterday and it was SO MUCH BETTER THAN THIS FUCKING BOOK.

anyway, this is my dissertation on how this animated demon show that's not technically a romance just took a romance trope & is really doing it so much better than the literal romance book i'm reading right now.

hope you liked it. thank you for your time!

[tocomplainfriend]

Funny thing (not really) I’ve noticed is that Viv has always fetishized m/m relationships. There’s obviously Stolitz, but it goes back way further. There’s Addison from Zoophobia being shipped with a guy who works at his high school, but to mention that Viv has drawn NSFW of them despite Addison canonically being a minor. There’s also Autumn and Rusty, the former whom gets bullied by Rusty cause Rusty is secretly in the closet. Ten years later and she’s still weird about m/m relationships.

TW: fetishizing Queerness

I tried to search a little for Addison's age. In the wiki, that I know Viv did not write it says he is 18, other post say 17- there are people saying the age got changed too? I know almost nothing to zoophobia- if anyone knows about this claim, share your knowledge and importantly evidence of the age thing in specific? I do know about those snake drawings. And also was Viv 19? Have no clue-so I'm not gonna super talk about it without knowledge.

About the Rusty thing, I don't think Viv is a good enough writer (of relationships especially, cause Stolitz mainly) to pull that relationship or story. I don't think she can pull the idea of the closeted bully, purely by the fact that she doesn't understand or acknowledge the problems Stolitz has. If she needs to put down characters to make Stolas seems better and try to justify the power imbalance. I don't think she could write this if she wanted to. This closeted gay bully is such an old trope, too. I think the worst you can do (also as a non-amazing writer) is actually tried to make a romance out of it? Cause a lot of these tropes are more like "HAHA THE BULLY IS GAY HAHAHA", rather than "aww the bully was just sad and gay all along". I don't like it. (also this includes when the bully doesn't bully his romantic interest)

A lot of problems in mlm stuff Vivziepop does is similar to those Yaoi fetishization shit. Where there are also power imbalance. Also, this treatment of the characters like Moxxie? Like he is bi, and with Millie- and his treatment is so shitty. The hole thing of MILLIE PEGS MOXXIE, and that funny cause is less manly of him? Or where the succubus sexually assault them and that is funny??? (that one is not even Blitz being an asshole to him, it's made to act funny). As soon there is something viewed as feminine from him, the show makes fun of him. His feminine appearance in Unhappy campers also leads to make fun of him. Where he is the most vulnerable and insecure is that episode. He is more objectified in a feminine appearance.

Just the entirety of Stolitz is literally a lot of yaoi-sh problems. Also, I do see a lot of red flags in how they wrote Fizz and Asmo'. Because Fizz was insecure af, that he needed the approval of Mammon as an imp. Mammon was using the power that he had over Fizz to use him to get money. He got his approval from Asmo another sin in a higher position of power. (The power imbalance is not the problem vibes). Plus, The Big dominant protector and the sub small uwu cure relationship. Fizz, compared to the first time he appeared, he is so vulnerable and acts so cutesy. Like, the confidence he had during the S1, disappeared so bad. Acting so nice to Glitz and Glam, felt like cutting out all attitude to "uke-fing" him into needing a savior. They make him so powerless

Fizz, a quad amputee, was put in a vulnerable situation related to his trauma and where he lost all his limbs and horns. All to make Blitz "redeem" himself and make them friends again... THAT SUCKS.

Also, there was the fact of how over-sexual all the male mlm characters are, too. Like, Chaz was so much more sexual than Verosika as a succubus.

IT JUST SUCKS.

[mandareeboo]

Ooooh, fanfiction! My ability to read cursive is admittedly a bit rusty, but it seems to be romantic in nature. I also love the bit where he has to cross out "friend"- because that's what Blitz has been the past month or so, a friend. Someone who's cared for him and carried him through this difficult period.

[ev-rebound]

Sonic Prime rewrite: Chapter 6 Break out

Sonic jumped through the hole in the mountain with a grin, “Hey guys!”, the blue blur sliced through several badniks with a well charged spin dashed. The others barely spared glances at him as they continued to fight off the badniks.

“About time!��� 

-

As the hero and rebels fight the bots, Zero watches them with narrowed eyes waiting for the chance to strike when a large hand grabs his sword arm. Zero snarls and turns to face, “Zavock?! What are you doing?!” Zavock doesn’t let go he explains, “Let’s seal the room and let the robots tire them out, we have more pressing matters to attend to such as the blackout, and if it affected our sectors of the city” 

Zero’s eyes widen and he nods, “Right…” with that the pair slink out of the room, not that they need to try and be stealthy in the chaos. Once outside Zavock holds out a hand to the door and it shuts alongside metal covers. 

With that the two council members run off to join the rest. 

“Sorry Omega!” Sonic says as he vaults over the claws trying to run him through and lands on the robot's arm, he wastes no time running up it and kicking him in the head. The robot falls back and Sonic frowns, -sorry..- he charges up a spin dash and rips through the bots in the room.

As they fight panels in the ceiling open and drones descend, they lock onto the mobians and begin to open fire. Rouge manages to destroy one with a drill kick but this causes the rest to lock onto her to shoot her down. 

“Still think this was worth the risk?!” Knuckles growls as he continues to trade blows with Rusty as Rouge dives back towards the ground, “It will be if we make it out of here!” She lands in a crouched position and jumps at Rusty aiming a kick at her head, the cyborg catches it but that leaves her wide open for Knuckles. The echidna blitzes her with a series of brutal punches and the final sends Rusty flying through the wall, her body twitches and sparks before going offline. Panting but knowing the job isn’t done yet the two rebels turn to help Sonic, but instead are left flabbergasted.

In the seconds they had taken to defeat Rusty he had already speed blitzed through the rest of the ground bots. Now he’s drawn the fire of the drones as he races around the circular walls of the council room, once he’s on the same level of them he spin dashes and with a well timed homing attack smashes through each one. “WOO!” Man that felt good, Sonic landed with a grin as metal shards rained down around him. The other two stare at him with a mix of wonder and shock, but it doesn’t last long as Knuckles stalks up to him.

“Alright just who the heck are you, huh? And how do you know our names?” He growls in Sonic’s face, upon closer inspection Sonic can see the difference between the Knuckles he knows clear as day. This one has scars all over, his muzzle is pale from a lack of sunlight, he has metal knuckles over his natural ones, his shoes are mostly metal and he wears a black beanie with the symbol of a cracked egg on it. 

Sonic holds up his hands and steps back, “Woah! Look I can explain but I don’t think now’s the time” “On that we can agree” Rouge states as she puts a hand on Knuckle’s shoulder she’s in a similar condition pale, scarred, wearing light armor, cargo pants, and pointed metal boots. “We need to get out of here before the council sends in something worse”

Knuckles stares at Sonic for a good long moment, a look Sonic knew all too well, before nodding, “Right” With that Rouge turns and pulls out one of her bombs, she walks over to the hole Knuckles made when he punched out Rusty. Placing it on the wall next to it she presses a button and jumps back as it begins to beep then explodes making the hole wider.

“Why didn’t you use that earlier?” Sonic asks as she climbs through the hole, “I only got a few! Our guy can only make so many” 

“Fair enough..” Sonic mutters, Knuckles grabs a blaster from the remains of one of the bots then follows after. On the other side, Rouge and Sonic are back in fighting stances, eyes narrowed at Rusty Rose who stares at them blankly.

“Cool it!” A voice calls from above, “She’s still a killing machine just not under the councils control anymore” Sonic gasps with a smile, “Nine!”

First-Next-Prev

[chaifootsteps]

Yeah, on the topic of Stolas getting pissy at Blitz for his capture/ two attempted assassinations… He deserves to get fucked with a rusty barb wired pole and gagged with one of those cacti that jump onto people and are painful to remove. Not only has it been shown that Stolas can turn people to stone with a glance and transform into a giant fuckoff monster, it’s also NOT HIS RESPONSIBILITY TO PROTECT YOUR ASS. He’s not his bodyguard nor friend, and Stolas is fully capable of defending himself, Viv just nerfed the shit out of him so he can play damsel.

And hi, it’s the same anon telling Stolas to get tossed off a cliff into flesh eating bacteria water. Call me Stolas Torture Anon!

Can't wait for the Viv stans to accuse you of inciting actual violence like they did that when that poor kid made a joke about murdering Valentino!

[blitzwhore]

Circus AU for the WIP ask game

Aaaaah, this is a wip that is currently on stand-by because it's also a multi-chapter fic idea and I can't work on two of those at the same time. My plan is for this one to be my main fic after I wrap up the tattoo shop AU!!! So if everything goes according to my plan, this should be the next big fic I work on ❤️

This is an AU in which, before the fire takes place, while they're all still teenagers, Blitz finds a passed-out Stolas buried in a stack of hay in the horses' stables. They remember each other from when they were kids, but they never met again, and Blitz has no idea how or why Stolas ended up here. All Stolas will tell him is he has nowhere else to go.

My plan for this fic is actually for the main ship to be Fizz/Blitz/Stolas! I'd love for both Fizz and Stolas to love Blitz fiercely, and help Blitz learn how to let himself be loved. It's a journey in which Blitz comes to understand that he doesn't have to choose between just one of the two boys he's fallen in love with, and that he's worthy of both of them, and they all can make each other happy in a way that works for them.

Here's a little snippet:

He couldn’t even remember the last time Cash had complimented him. Every single day, after every act, his dad congratulated all the performers on their work, smiling widely at them, sometimes even hugging them if he felt particularly affectionate. He hugged Barbie and Fizz more than anyone else, endless streams of praise falling from his lips as he took them outside to meet the crowd. He loved showing them off for everyone to see. Like they were jewels he was collecting. Like they were precious. 

But Blitzo couldn’t remember the last time his own dad had congratulated, or smiled at, or much less hugged him.

He loved to tell himself he didn't care—that he didn't need his father's approval. But the tears that streamed down his face even as he thought about it told a different story. 

In the cozy quietness of the stables, Blitzo cried, pressing his face against the mare’s soft flank to muffle his sobs.

He really didn’t want to hold any of this against Fizz or Barbie. He loved them more than anything in this world. It was him that was the problem. Him that made things worse. Him that was a fucking waste of space.

Fuck, he was pathetic.

He was sniffling and carding his fingers through the mare’s soft mane when the spikes at his back shivered and stood. A moment later, he realized why: something had moved in the far corner of the tent, just within his blurry line of sight. 

Straightening, Blitzo quickly wiped away his tears and scanned the area. 

Stacks of hay were haphazardly spread over the area. Blitzo had been insisting on getting some hay nets for some time now, to no avail. Nothing seemed to be amiss, at least not until—

A black leg poked from under a stack and dragged across the ground, its sharp claws twitching.

His heart jumped. Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest object he could find that could serve as a weapon—a rusty old rake with a half-rotten stick—and approached whatever, or whoever, was hiding under the hay. 

“Who’s there?” he asked, holding the rake in front of himself. When no reply came, he poked the foot warily. It retracted back under the hay, leaving behind a single, gray feather. 

Blitzo frowned. With careful movements, he poked the hay with the rake, revealing a long, black leg, covered with light brown trousers—a person. Alarm turning into worry, he dropped the rack and pushed more hay aside, uncovering another leg, a black blouse of some kind, a dark gray, silky cape, a long, feathered neck, a white face—

Stolas.

It was him, wasn’t it? The Goetia prince. Blitzo had only met him once forever ago, but he distinctly remembered the owl having a heart-shaped face with four eyes.

What the fuck?

This needs some editing, and I know this fic won't see the light of day anytime soon, but I'm still really really excited about it! ❤️

[seccndchances]

@upgrxded (Jaina & Balthazar)

Jaina had randomly sent the coordinates out a few hours ago, as she began her hike. Knowing she'd at the very least have an hour head start before he'd even reach the right trail. She had settled on wandering a bit off trail until she felt comfortably concealed within the foliage. Tactfully maneuvering by jumping from tree to tree as to not leave an obvious trail. She placed her pack in a nook of a tree, pulling out a bokken blade. A training saber she had borrowed from the Temple to help past the time. It was easier to wield then her own blade. Ensuring her hair was safely secured, she began with form III. A fighting style passed down to her by her Uncle that he learned from his previous Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Each blow was deliberate and controlled, she kept that up for an hour before shifting to form IV. Her Master's preferred form and one she spent plenty of time fighting against. Her own style being a mix between the styles. Favoring the blitz attacks but bolstering it with the more concise movements of Form III. It allowed for her to sustain momentum without burning out too fast. Her stamina had served her well against many a light or dark side user. She used the force to help propel her forward. A timed flip landing the saber to hit the foliage with a controlled grunt. Her body was rusty, but a part of her awoken in the movements. Suddenly she was a young padawan again, desperate to prove herself. Her sense urged her to turn sharp, her bokken blade stopping an inch short from the others throat. "Guess you win." She stated in between batted breaths.

[angler-ask]

Intro/rules

//ooc: um hai jumping onto the pressure ask blogs. Can't say this one will have cool lore or cool rp interactions OR be super active but wanted to join in on the fun!

This is an ask blog for ALL the Anglers! bc this might get confusing, I've given them they're own tells to show who's who even if I don't draw anything for the ask!

Angler (it/they) will use black text and use .:>

Blitz (he/it) will use blue text and use ...<

Frogger (she/it) will use orange text and use 8>

Chainsmoker (it/he) will use green text and <:>

Pinkie (she/it) will use pink text and use ::>

Now for rules and boundaries!

#1: please do not send NSFW asks, I'm not interested in those type of asks OR rp scenarios.

#2: also please specify if you're talking to a specific Angler variant! If you don't I'll either just choose randomly myself or not answer it! This is a blog with 5 characters, it makes this a tad easier for me!

#3: other blogs are absolutely welcome to interact!! My rp skills are very rusty but I'd love to engage! I'm not really planning on having any huge story or lore for this blog so these guys are just about good for anything!

That's pretty much all I got for now! This post will stay pinned for any future reference!

And also! Extra info under the cut!

CHARACTERS REFS!!!!

Idk if any of y'all were curious, but here's what all of the Anglers' vision looks like for reference purposes

^ Angler

^ Blitz

^ Frogger

^ Chainsmoker

^ Pinkie

[sekhithefops]

Rusty Rabbit: Story of a Scrappy lil' Hare.

Just one of those little 'huh' moments you get sometimes. Both were by Asian developers too. F.I.S.T. by China based dev studio TiGames, Rusty Rabbit by Japan based developer Nitroplus.

Not complaining at all, I love bunnies. Just... huh.

Rusty Rabbit is one of those fun little stories thats right up my alley. For one, humans are extinct and its hinted to have been our own godsdamn fault which affirms some opinions I have on the species lately.

A second ice age swept the Earth, mankind is no more, and the noble bun has inherited the planet.

You play as Stamp, a rabbit who makes their living as a Junker. They explore a ruined building left by the 'giants' (read: humans) for useable tools and materials, then sell them back home or use them to refurbish vehicles for their neighbors.

Stamp is a protagonist I find very endearing. he's cute and fluffy with small paws and a twitchy nose... but also a total cynic and hardbitten survivor, a contrast I find delightful.

He talks in the gruff voice of a middle-aged man who has seen a lot of dumb shit and watches the younger generation make the same screw ups he did with a feeling of exhaustion... and a very familiar one.

I googled it out of curiosity and his voice actor is none other than Yong Yea of Youtube fame and current English voice actor of Yakuza protagonist Kazuma Kiryu!

So of course I said that aloud the moment I realized it.

Stamp's forays into the ruins of our species' folly bring him into contact with a group of lapine explorers known as the BBs, which stands for Blitz Bullets... or is it Beautiful Babies... or perhaps Bouncing Binglybeeps... they seem unable to make up their minds.

Gameplay is split between exploring Scrap Mountain and going back to the surface to sell your scrap, turn in quests at the bar, visit friends at the local diner, and refurbish vehicles in your shop. The vehicles are an interesting one as each piece you return has Stamp monologue about his thoughts on his work. It can be a bit long-winded, but its skippable and if you like that sort of thing it adds some depth to his character.

One thing I found especially amusing about the game is, apparently, the story of Peter Rabbit is a religious text for his people.

"Saint Peter," as he is known, fought "The Reaper" single handedly and defeated him to save their people. "Saint Benjamin" is also considered the progenitor of bunkind, having had so many children that they spread across the world.

Also, I do find it especially hilarious that they use "McGregor" in the same way we'd use "motherfucker."

The game is very engaging so far, with a steady trickle of upgrades to unlock new areas encouraging exploration of older ones as well. So far I've gotten a grappling hook, a speed-dash, a shotgun, a sword, and the starting drill but there's still more to be found it seems.

Overall I'm having a lot of fun. Stuck at the moment on a particularly tricky puzzle in a zone called the "Wind Power Plant" but I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually. A great title with a very fun protagonist.