#shrike 1 year

[pittieandpoodle]

it’s Shrike’s first birthday 🥺

i love having a poodle so fucking much. he’s annoying as hell and never shuts up and has springs in his feet and his hair is a pain in the ass, but he’s so funny and sweet and genuinely a good boy down to his marrow. he’s fun and flashy in the show ring, driven enough for agility and barnhunt, and an amazing hiking dog. i’m so glad i brought him into my life.

UCH Mistel’s Butcherbird “Shrike” - 1 year ❤️

[sh33bsart]

@gryphsdeadbones

[losing-track]

u think shrike sapnap n gnf like yk…. maybe….. explored……. 😨🏳️‍🌈

bit late to pride month no? (i love you anon) (yk who you are)

[celaenaeiln]

Something fanon gets wrong

Dick Grayson is genuinely one of the greatest fighters in all of DC.

I know people have trouble believing this for some reason but a man who has defeated every single one of his enemies, other people’s enemies, and has consistently come out on top should have his abilities talked about a bit more because they’re amazing.

Let's start small to big. Firstly Donna talks about Nightwing's abilities.

When I read this I was confused by what she meant. Prowess means skill or expertise and that makes sense but Dick has a lot of power behind him though...

And then I realized she meant metaphysical power.

Dick isn't a magician. He can't run at supersonic speeds, throw buildings, speak to animals, communicate with the dark, fly above the clouds, bounce bullets off his chest (Oh, wait. He can do it off his ass instead never mind), turn into animals, or other amazing abilities. But his skill is so high that he is easily able to keep up with people who can.

M'gann, the white martian with extraordinary capabilities, tells Dick, "You are just a human, with no superpowers, yet you have consistently excelled throughout your career, despite being surrounded by godlike beings."

This is incredible.

We see Dick leading teams of superheroes and metas all the time and we take it for granted but we never acknowledge the immense power and skill he must have for him to be able to do this.

Repeatedly. Time after time. He outsmarts both his human allies and outfights his meta ones.

One of Dick’s greatest OP moments is when he takes down the entire Titans team -Gar, Raven, Donna, and Jason too when he hung around with them- single handedly. And when Jason put a gun to the back of his head in supposed victory, Dick opened his hand to let the golden bullets fall, gleaming in the light with the coldest line, “with these bullets?”

We all know how amazing Bruce is, but Dick is on Bruce's level.

No?

Okay, here's the evidence.

Dick has fought Azael in a sword fight to a standstill when Azael has beaten Bruce separately and Tim and Jason combined.

He has defeated Ra's in a sword fight and Ra's is one of the greatest swordsmen.

Sometimes he doesn't even need a sword to defeat a skilled swordsman.

He's a League of Assassins member and we all know that anyone from the League of Assassins is never just good. They're excellent. The entire fight Dick is looking for Blockbuster and he's so capable and good at fighting the entire scene was like watching Thanos flick Captain America away vibes. He's not even looking at him when he smashes his foot into Shrike's face!

Most importantly, he has defeated Deathstroke

The greatest thing about Dick is he is able to defeat Slade at the peak of Slade's abilities. Slade doesn't need to be weakened for Dick to win.

Here's where people has some hesitance accepting Dick's abilities.

"Bruce has defeated Slade but Dick has never been able to!"

He literally has in Dark Crisis but I'll give you the lead up.

Dick can easily disarm Slade.

He can predict Slade's moves ahead of time and properly counteract them.

He can go toe to toe with him and in one comic, they dance down a hallway, fighting, neither able to get the upper hand. The mercenary meta, considered by the US Government to be 1 of 2 greatest assassins (the other being Katana) isn't able to pin down and defeat a 20 year old despite his enhancements.

I left out the scene where Dick twisting Deathstroke's arm and smashing his face into a bedroom mirror despite being complete weaponless and in his civilian identity. No protection and no support. But it's another example of how Dick's poweress is much greater than people expect of him.

Of course there are panels where Dick has been defeated by Slade but Dick isn't 17/18 anymore. He isn't learning to fight without Batman hovering over his side.

Also there is a panel everyone references to when talking about Nigthwing losing to Deathstroke. This one.

sure. okay. whatever. BUT WHY WON'T YOU SHOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT COWARDS?!?

THEY DANCE-FIGHT LIKE THEY'RE ENEMIES IN A BALLROOM ON OPPOSING SIDES BUT CAN'T AFFORD TO LET ANYONE FIND OUT.

THIS IS SOME HIGH LEVEL JAMES BOND-RED NOTICE-MISSION IMPOSSIBLE- TYPE SHIT.

"Close the hold, you morons! Close the--Guuk!"

That's Slade talking by the way. To his allies. Who do you think made him "GUUK!"?

And here they were evenly matched.

But Slade had to pull out bombs he had been saving for when other people came in order to defeat dICK AND HE STILL LOST BECAUSE DICK BESTED HIM.

Yup. Dick is just that good.

Nightwing defeated Bane

Before you go into saying something like "it was a holographic construction." What the fuck difference does that make? Does a holographic construction alter the strength used by the enemy, change their fighting style, phase through when fighting, act dumber than the real deal? No, right? The fact is Dick broke Bane's back the exact same manner that Bane broke Batman's. All those scenes of Bane punching Nightwing around? Let me remind you that the guy snuck up on Dick. The second time Dick underestimated Bane's powers before getting ready to put in real effort before Batman interfered to take Bane for himself.

All those amazing scenes of him defeating enemies that we've scoffed at recently? They're just a continuation of what already is written. It's not new or unbelievable, it's expected.

Here's my final point. Dick has defeated all of the Justice League's enemies in one go.

This is Batman/Superman comic where Kara gets infected so Dick as Batman sends her to the medbay while he tears down the Watchtower to save her. As in every single defense mechanism the Watchtower has, he demolishes it with his pure skill and abilities. Furthermore, the Watchtower defenses were enhanced by cyborg Superman to be lethal. To kill on sight.

Just. Phenomenal.

He did it! He defeated all of them and made it to the electronic controls he was aiming for.

Another thing I want to point is Dick's strength is greater than what people assume it to be.

He's the world's greatest acrobrat and has a build fitting of that but the strength he packs in his body is equal to that of a meta. Maybe it's because of how he only fights with metas and has teammates that are all metas but he has raised his striking power to equal that.

He shatters cyborg superman in one blow.

He can handle blows from meta humans in a way most others can't which suggests to me that he must've done some kind of training or have maybe increased pain tolerance or have the ability to backseat the pain so it won't affect his fighting. How many can take a hit and rise up the next second?

He's not metahuman. Batman must've done several tests because he also was amazed by robin Dick's poweress lol but really Dick is just extraordinary. Give him any enemy and he will garaunteed defeat them without using cheap tricks or surprise moves which is why he is one of the greatest. The only time people have gotten an upperhand on him is when he has been emotionally weakened. Emotionally. Imagine the absolute monster he would be if he controlled his emotions like Batman.

But I would never want him to though because his emotions are the reason why he's the light of DC.

[emsartwork]

ALL OF DAPHNE'S TRANSFORMATIONS. INCLUDING UPDATED NYMPHIX.

Previously Fairy of the Dragon Flame now Fairy of Embers. She doesn't have any transformations others than these because she was fast tracked into the nymphix path, and unlike the winx the majority of fairies don't pursue additional transformations past enchantix. (i think Daphne would be interested in Dreamix tho, so maybe I'll draw that eventually.

Her major color shifted after dying and being revived, which is shown in her winx and enchantix.

other lore and design notes below!

I changed her major color from orange/yellow to more of a teal/green because. she just doesn't look good in yellow I'm sorry I really tried but it wasn't working. Also little updates to her hair color, nothing huge tho. Daphne's primary motifs are a branching "Y" shape and a double oval/tear drop. She's a pants when possible girlie and a one set winger(yes her nymphix looks like it have multiple wings but they all merge into one stem on each side) . Her scars from her Sirenix being ripped out of her caused her winx/enchantix to change a little to cover them(mostly seen in the arms) due to insecurity. Her Dryadix/nymphix flower is a daffodil! because pun Daph-Daff, and Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings (also creativity, energy, resilience, forgiveness and vitality). Her Harpix wings aren't super specificly patterned, but she has darting wings common in small song and seed birds (robins, finches, brown birds etc.) the coloring is referential of a Shrike (also called a Butcher Bird), because Daphne was. incredibly dangerous and if she had sided with the ancestral probably would have been given a moniker similar to Butcher of Domino or Daphne the Slaughterer. (some people do call her these but its mostly among people who dislike Domino/The Royal Family.)

Lore! Daphne doesn't have a great sense of self, she was planned as a necessary successor to Marion/the dragon flame in a period as the ancestral witches were escalating their attacks and search for the dragon flame. Bloom was a back up baby in case both Daphne and Marion got dead and basically worked as intended haha. Daphne was also much more publicly involved in the kingdom than many of the other royals in winx (Stella, Aisha, Krystal and even Galatea to an extent all had rather sheltered upbringings) in a way Daphne is much more like Sky and Thoren in the since that none of them really had the space to develop their own personality outside of their familial duty.

Daphne's 1st winx and enchantixes are as direct a copy of her mom's Enchantix as you can get with transformations, right down to the more greenish tint of her major color. Growing up Marion used her fairy form liberally, so that, combined with being the next Dragon Flame holder left a deep impact on Daphne's subconscious. Daphne was also heavily influenced by Faragonda during her Alfea and Nymphix Quest years, but since she was older this isn't as deep an influence. After being revived, Daphne's years of defining herself as her connection to Bloom causes her major color to shift more blue in response to her trauma. Daphne is slowly starting to develop a sense of self outside of her titles/connections but it's unlikely her major color will shift again unless she has another major trauma.

(for the record the Winx do have trauma over the timeline I have laid out that would potentially cause their major colors to shift but I didn't do that for a couple reasons 1, their colors are iconic and make them easily recognizable as characters; 2, I'm a tired bitch. )

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The House Always…Loses? Pt 1

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. This was supposed to be a one shot about how Husk sold his soul, but I couldn’t help myself.]

[Part 1/2 Word count 3142 CW: alcohol consumption, gambling, mentions of sex.]

——————

The house always…loses?!

The 1970’s. You could tell there was some crazy shit going on in the world of the living. Mostly because the new arrivals in Hell had some particularly messed up forms. Tom Trench, 666 News’ anchor, had ended every broadcast for the past three years in an orgy after reporting on the war on Earth as well as the local conflicts.

“Complete lack of class,” Alastor shook his head as the two of you passed a large television screen in one of Pentagram City’s plazas. It was tuned to Tom’s nightly sign off; the camera off kilter and focused on the desk at a bizarre angle. Evidently the camera operator was part of the group on top of the desk. You could hear Tom saying, “oh fuck yeah I’m gonna invade all your landmasses baby,” followed by “here comes the firebombiiiiiiiiingggguh.”

“Zut alors, he’s turned into such a disgrace.” You scowled. “He might as well just work for that uncouth moth bastard at this point.” As you described Valentino, your voice gained a rough edge and wind started to swirl around you.

Your husband gave your hand a soothing squeeze. “Now now dear, you’ll muss your hair before I even get you on the dance floor if you keep it up. Besides cher, we’ll likely encounter him and the fad chaser at this party. If we all give into our emotions we’re likely to level the whole place.”

You breathed deeply. “And I’d hate to demolish a new establishment before even giving it a chance. Zestial requested a few songs as well, I can’t ruin my voice before granting him that.”

The two of you were attending a gala of Overlords and favored subordinates. One of the newest Overlords was providing the venue at his casino. These sort of get togethers were uncommon as more than one of the Pride Ring’s leaders in the same place often resulted in considerable property damage. So this newcomer was either extremely confident or foolhardy. Typical of a gambler.

At the entrance, you and your husband gave each other a final check; you straightened his bowtie, he smoothed back an errant lock of hair for you. Inside the casino was bustling with activity. It was set up into quadrants, each designated by a card suit. One section had slot machines designed to drain money from the poor saps who fell prey to their lights and false hopes. Deeper in were tables for more sophisticated ways to lose money. An elegant bar and well stocked buffet with dining tables nearby took up another section. The last quadrant had a stage for performers, lounge chairs for audience members and a dance floor. There was currently a band playing something forgettable on stage.

There was activity mostly at the gaming tables and bar. Not many Overlords were interested in the machines, the stakes weren’t high enough to care. And while the band was good, there wasn’t a headliner on stage at the moment. Food, alcohol, and barbed conversation was a bigger draw.

“Alastor, Y/N. Good to see you both.” The voice was sultry and professional all around once. “Ah, Carmilla, always a pleasure seeing you dear. You and your daughters,” you husband replied to the graceful Overlord.

“It’s been too long, Carmilla. Odette, Clara, you both look lovely cheres.” You glanced around the opulent venue. “So was this little fais do do your idea Carmilla?”

The tall woman shrugged elegantly. “In part. The owner of this establishment wanted to garner some attention and I owed him a small favor. I merely arranged the guest list. He took care of the rest.” She gestured to one of the card tables. “He’s entertaining guests with games of chance if you’d like to meet him.”

Alastor looked to you, “Well my dear, shall we meet our newest contemporary or mingle first?”

You spotted a tall figure draped in tacky fuschia leering in your direction from the bar, along with a shorter boxy headed demon boring holes into Alastor’s back. “Looks as if there are some unsavories around the liquor. I’m always interested in making new acquaintances.”

Arm in arm, you and your husband headed to the tables, Carmilla and her girls with you. You looked at them questioningly. “Ostensibly, as the hostess, I should introduce guests to each other.”

A demon about your height was dominating at the blackjack table. He had feline features in addition to a set of wings. Whereas your wings mimicked a natural bird’s coloration, his were more fantastical, vibrantly red and black with bars and dots all over. His hair was elegantly slicked back and his crisp tuxedo completed the air of a high roller.

He spotted Carmilla and after he won the current hand excused himself from the table, saying “duty calls friends.” He tucked his cane under his arm; the body was gold and topped with a sphere containing suit symbols, dice, and chips rotating like an orrery within.

“Husk, I’d like you to meet some of our colleagues.” Carmilla began as he approached. “This is Alastor, the Radio Demon, and his wife Y/N, the Singing Shrike. Alastor, Y/N, this is Husk, proprietor of this establishment and our newest sovereign Overlord.”

Alastor released your hand to shake Husk’s. “A pleasure to meet you my good man, truly a pleasure.” You followed up with your own pleasantries adding, “A lovely venue you have here. If the food and drink are up to the decor we may need to come around again, cher.”

“Pleased to meet you both,” his voice was rough but not unwelcoming. More like someone who had smoked excessively for years. “I don’t do things by halves, so I’m sure the refreshments are up to snuff. You’re both welcome to try the tables as well, if you can buy into the pot.” He stated a number that was high, but not exclusionary. No doubt he wanted to hook his patrons to get more value later. “We’re not betting souls tonight, that’s business and tonight’s for pleasure.” He gave you both a toothy smile before heading back to the cards.

You mingled both with Alastor and on your own. Waiters weaved through pockets of activity, serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres. There wasn’t really a crowd, which was smart considering how many Overlords could barely stand to be under the same roof, much less rubbing elbows.

It was somewhat inevitable though. A couple of hotheads, one you recognized and one you didn’t, started bickering, then yelling, then throwing punches. Any longer and they might have started bringing out some powers. Except they were stopped by a barrage of black playing cards. Off balance, they were crashed to the ground when a pair of giant dice rolled snake eyes onto them. Pinned, the two could only wait as Husk stalked over, the top of his cane glowing red.

“Didn’t your mamas ever teach you dumbasses any manners?” He slammed the butt of his cane down between their heads, sending a ripple of power out. “This is my house, my rules, so I’m going to teach you instead.” His gold pupils shined as he grinned down at them. “You wanna fight? You take it outside or I make you. You wanna settle things in here? We got plenty of ways to settle matters at the tables. Now what’s it gonna be bitches?” The two remained silent and continued to glare at each other. “Outside it is.”

The dice vanished but before the hapless combatants could do more than gasp a wave of poker chips carried them out the door with bone breaking force. Husk followed the wave calmly. From the other side, you could hear thuds, explosions, and screams. It only lasted a moment. Husk returned alone. One of the casino employees brought a new tuxedo jacket; there was dust and a bit of blood on the one he was wearing. He combed his hair back and returned to the game he’d been playing.

You sipped your whiskey, amused. Confidence it was then. “It seems our new friend can hold his own,” Alastor mused as he smoothly came up beside you. He held out a morsel of food for you, speared on a tiny skewer. “These are delightful, cher.” You pulled it off with your teeth. Shrimp in a spiced breading. “Mmm, that is lovely darling, thank you. And yes, he seems quite capable…for now.”

Anything else you would have said was derailed by a tall dark form appearing next to you and your husband. “If the two of thee have formed such an opinion of yon grimalkin, his potential is indeed of note.”

“My lord Zestial!” A light shiver sent your feathers rustling but that was expected around a demon as old and powerful as Zestial. Even Alastor tensed, a bit of strain around his lips and eyes. You curtsied as Alastor gave a slight bow. “You are as perceptive as ever. He has a great deal of power and potential. If his luck continues…”

Zestial chuckled. “Thou speaketh truth Shrike. One must make thine own luck. But ‘tis far too pleasant an occasion for such musings. Will thou grace the assemblage with thy voice tonight Shrike?”

“Of course cher!” As if you’d say no. Not to such a simple request from someone like Zestial. “I don’t suppose you have any requests? Or if there’s anything you’d like to hear darling?” you asked your husband.

Zestial shook his head. “Thy voice is a gift alone, I shall not presume to dictate its flow.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid I can’t help but dictate a little ma cher. Rosie requested a dance, so something she would enjoy?”

“I’d be glad to.” Alastor kissed your hand before seeing you off. You let Carmilla and Husk both know that you were ready to take the stage; you’d arranged everything ahead of time so the band was ready for you. Spotlights highlighted your mark as the lights dimmed slightly in the rest of the casino.

There was still a tremor of nervousness in your core as you took the stage. You were glad of it; if you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t care about the performance or the audience. So you let it fuel the passion in your voice. You started with something that would grab attention, tap some toes. The big numbers would come later. For now you wanted them to listen to you more than the alcohol roaring in their skulls.

Once you had a gathering and you could feel the upbeat vibe in the room, you went into some dance numbers. The first one was for Alastor and Rosie. Seeing those two dancing together made your heart soar. Some might have expected you to be jealous, another woman dancing with your husband right in front of you. But how could you be jealous of your partner and your friend being so joyful together?

Not to mention that after your deaths, Alastor had gotten taller while you…embarrassingly you were the same height. He could still escort you comfortably but there were some dance moves that you couldn’t do together. Rosie was the perfect height, light on her feet, and a delight to watch in her own right. Why deny her and Alastor the pleasure? Or yourself the pleasure of watching.

You sang a mix of eras, which kept the band on their toes. But you loved music from different times and hearing what you could do with various songs. Alastor and Rosie danced for most of the songs, you could see Carmilla’s daughters find partners, and Zestial with his eyes closed, head bobbing to the music. Not even glimpses of Valentino and Vox could spoil the mood.

As people got tired, you slowed things down. There was more swaying on the dance floor now; there weren’t a lot of overt couples among Overlords (at least not established permanent ones) but there were many that shared intimacy for a time. Some had followers they were particularly close to and the rest of their followers often had a special someone. So there were plenty of pairs swaying to your voice.

Your last song of the night was Alastor’s song. It was your routine to finish with that one; carried over from when you were alive. Any demons that had seen you perform before knew it was your finale and worth paying attention to. The applause after the last note felt like champagne bubbling in your glass: delightful. You had a policy of not taking encores or requests after Alastor’s song, no matter how much anyone offered.

Alastor was there as you descended, hand ready for you. “As ever, you make me glad you married me, cher. Shall we get something to eat, I’m starved.” He knew you were likely to be as well, you tended to be ravenous after a performance.

To your surprise, there was clapping still near you; Husk, pulled away from the gaming tables. “I haven’t heard a performance like that in years. I’ve got a proposition for you, Y/N. Can I have some of your time after your meal?”

You and Alastor exchanged a glance. “Why not join us? As you said, it’s a night for pleasure, so presumably it’s not too serious,” you said as Alastor nestled your hand in his arm.

“If you’re both alright with that, don’t mind if I do.” You took a seat at an empty table while Alastor prepared a plate for you. You didn’t always let him, but you had put a lot into that performance, with so many people to impress. Fortunately, neither he nor Husk took long. Vox was starting to eye you from across the room. You would have hated to get wires and grease all over Husk’s new floor.

Alastor presented your plate as smoothly as any waiter, earning a throaty chuckle from you. There were more of those lovely shrimp, prime rib, salad, a baked potato and a slice of peach pie. You ate like a bird, which meant voraciously. You had to eat close to half your body weight in a day, much like the little bird you resembled. Fortunately you weren’t a pure carnivore and the peach pie was wonderfully nostalgic.

“Well, cher,” you said while stabbing a forkful of greens, “what’s this proposition?”

Husk swallowed, wiped his lips, and leveled a golden stare at you and Alastor. “I’d like to hire you of course,” he replied, expectedly. “I don’t have a headliner here yet and watching you made me realize how much this place needs one.” He sipped his wine. “So what do you say to a couple shows a week? I’ll give top billing to an Overlord, especially with pipes like yours.”

You smirked and raised your glass in admiration. Most assumed that Alastor was the only one with power in your relationship. Despite there being multiple female Overlords, once they found out you were married they acted as if you were little more than your husband’s hanger-on. While that granted you a number of opportunities (and demons chained to you with deals) you appreciated any that had a better grasp on your marital dynamic.

“What kind of compensation are we looking at? I don’t sing for free, cher.” Not even tonight had been free; Carmilla had paid your rate. There was one being in all existence that got to hear you for free.

Husk immediately named a figure. A gambler he might be, but he was a businessman too. He gave a number higher than your usual fee. Not high enough to make him seem desperate, but enough that he respected your talent and to entice from other engagements. “Obviously any tips are yours and you both will get perks of casino employees.” Evidently he noticed your shared enjoyment of the food and drink and wanted to sweeten the deal by including Alastor.

You pretended to mull it over while chewing your prime rib. “Quite the generous offer, ma petite chat. Why not, say three nights a week?” Husk readily agreed verbally. Neither of you moved to shake hands or sign papers; you could never be too careful with Overlords, especially when you were one.

The three of you chatted lightly as you ate. Alastor and you had experience with the old guard while Husk knew a lot of the young bucks. Neither side was about to give away more than the minimum information, but you got the impression he could be a decent ally.

Or pawn.

After the meal Husk asked you for a dance. You readily agreed, looking forward to seeing how he was on his feet. Not to mention a dance partner your size would be a nice change. He wasn’t as good as Alastor (who was?) but he was quite good. He seemed surprised by a couple maneuvers that incorporated your wings, evidently he hadn’t experimented much with his.

He actually got three songs with you before thanking you and heading back to the card tables. You were just feeling warmed up and went to retrieve your husband. Only to be intercepted by none other than Vox.

“Hey there sweetheart. How about you let me show you moves?” He gave you a grin and moved to take your hand in his.

You raked him up and down with your eyes. “Oh Vox, I’ve seen all your moves. They’re not impressive.” You pinched his wandering hand between two of your talons, making sure to draw pinpricks of blood before releasing him. “Allons’y cher, best you find a partner who can slow down for you.” Alastor had arrived at your side and added, “My darling wife makes an excellent point, although I’m not sure there’s anyone who can. Better luck next time ol’ pal!”

Without further ado he swept you onto the dance floor. He gleefully kept you dancing the majority of the night. You changed up partners a couple times, him with Rosie and you with Husk. At the end of the last song of the night, a slow dance, he lifted you into a bridal carry. Your wings cupped around his shoulders as he swayed with you.

Back at home, he and you exchanged notes on the evening while going through your nightly routines. “Cher, are you certain you don’t want me to deal with Vox?” he offered yet again.

“I can handle him darling. It seems I’ll need to be more direct however. More importantly, what do you think of my new employer?”

“Hmm.” His staticky hum filled the room as he climbed under the bedcovers. “An interesting fellow, we’ll need to see how he does. And you being there so often will give us plenty of opportunities,” he chuckled darkly.

You matched his laugh. As you settled next to his lean form you replied, “Agreed. This should be entertaining.”

A/N: part two may take a couple days, I’m finding pre-deal Husk’s voice hard to pin down. I hope you all like my head canon for his stronger abilities. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future Shrike snippets, she’s just fun to write. 💜🤍🩶🖤

@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3 @bengewatch

[yaksha-lover]

Track #1: Shrike - Hozier Drabble Masterlist

(Unrequited) Sebek Zigvolt x Reader, Background Malleus Draconia x Reader

Summary: Sebek watches Malleus fall in love with you, and then he does too.

i. remember me, love

The first time Sebek takes notice of you, he fears it’s already too late. He’s seen you around before, but he’s never bothered to do more than let his eyes gloss over you. His focus remains on Lord Malleus most of the time, so he can’t afford to pay too much attention to other details of the world, let alone a random human.

Malleus is, in fact, the reason he first pays attention to you. Despite Lilia’s admonishment to ‘leave Malleus to his whims,’ Sebek has gone chasing after his young master with Silver being dragged along. The two of them search campus until they eventually come along Ramshackle dorm.

Sebek quickly dismisses the dorm; the pile of rubble that hardly qualifies as a building would not be a place Lord Malleus would frequent. It’s dark out, so the two of them can’t see very far ahead, but Silver insists on continuing forward, pointing out the gargoyles on the side of Ramshackle that the half-fae failed to take notice of. Silver is then forced to try and calm Sebek’s momentary freak-out about not noticing one of his housewarden’s favourite things.

The two of them quiet down when they hear laughter coming from closer to the building. Sebek almost doesn’t recognize it at first; it’s been a while since he’s actually heard Malleus laugh.

Silver promptly slaps a hand over Sebek’s mouth when he tries to shout for him: “Please, Sebek. Leave him be. Malleus has finally made a friend.”

Silver and Sebek watch from the shadows as the two of you walk under a street light, your forms finally visible. The half-fae breathes a sigh of relief when realizing you two stand a couple meters away from each other; nothing else would be appropriate for the future king of Briar Valley.

While they’re forced to wait out the end of your conversation with Malleus, Sebek is able to get a good look at you. He vaguely recognizes you from your friendship with his fellow first years but other than that, he doesn’t know much about you or what you might want with his lord.

Although, he considers, you must be…something at least to have captured the interest of Malleus. Nothing extraordinary, you are just a human after all, but perhaps something worth looking at for a small time. Sebek dismisses the thought - you will be gone soon enough, he has nothing to worry about regarding Malleus.

Silver covers his mouth again as they watch you ask for Malleus’s hand before bringing it up to your lips for a quick kiss.

ii. when i’m reborn

Sebek walks side by side with you down the streets of a small market near the castle. You’d wanted to go out but Malleus was busy, so he sent Sebek to guard you. He catches many stares as the two of you look at the street stalls, whispers about the human who captured their king’s heart. Some more kind than others.

“They’re just a human- far below someone like our Lord Malleus. Are we sure they haven’t placed a love spell on him?” Someone whispers from the crowds.

Sebek almost turns around to yell at the voice, but you grab his arm to pull him along with you, leaving the situation behind.

“What are you doing? You won’t defend your own honour?” He protests.

“What I’m doing is staying out of trouble and not caring what these strangers think of me,” you say flatly. “Why do you care anyway? Don’t you agree with them?”

“I,” Sebek pauses, “I only wish to defend my lord’s name. He would never be able to be subdued by a mere love potion, let alone one given by a human.” And you wouldn’t need a love potion to capture someone’s heart, he doesn’t say.

“Whatever.”

The two of you decide to head back to the castle, walking until your path is intercepted.

“What are you doing in this part of the trail? Don’t you know humans aren’t safe here?” The fae taunts.

“Just leave us alone and we’ll be gone,” you reply. “I don’t think anyone here wants more trouble than they can deal with.”

“Oh? You think you can do anything against me? You’re just an insect on my shoe!” The stranger laughs.

“DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO? THE FUTURE QUEEN OF BRIAR VALLEY AND ONE OF MALLEUS’ KNIGHTS. KNEEL AND APOLOGIZE BEFORE I’M FORCED TO TAKE ACTION.” For once, you’re thankful for Sebek’s booming voice. The unknown man winces slightly at the sudden noise before recognition dawns on his face.

“You’re the little half-fae he took in, huh? He must have taken pity on you, a disgusting half-blood abomination. Well your king isn’t here, is he?”

“Sebek?” The glare he has locked on the man is intense, but he manages to turn his attention to you. “Beat his ass.”

And so, he does. With years of training under Lilia in magic and combat, the fae is, of course, no match for Sebek. You add in a little kick to his side at the end.

“Couldn’t take on a half-fae and a mere human?” you taunt the fallen man.

In the high of your victory, Sebek forgets he’s supposed to hate you, and the two of you share a high-five.

iii. as the shrike to your sharp

“You can’t marry him.”

“What? Sebek- Why would you say that?” you turn around at the half-fae’s words.

“Because-YOU KNOW WHY! YOU ARE HUMAN. DISGUSTINGLY INFERIOR AND UNWORTHY OF MARRYING A FAE LIKE MALLEUS.”

“Sebek! I’ve told you, I’m sick and tired of you saying things like that!” You yell back, approaching him. “Malleus loves me even though I’m human,” you lower your voice, “Why can’t you accept that a fae could love a human?”

Sebek remains uncharacteristically silent in response to your question, no longer meeting your eyes in righteous anger.

“I just don’t understand. I know I’m unworthy of Malleus, but it’s not because he’s a fae, it’s because everything else about him - his kindness, his loving nature. And your own parents are human and fae, how could you not-”

You’ve stopped right in front of him, close in a way that burns because he knows it means that despite everything he’s done, you still consider him a friend. And you are close, so close that Sebek leans down and lets his lips brush over your own, leaving the two of you in silence when you quickly pull away.

“There you are, my love,” Malleus says, coming through the doorway. “And hello, Sebek. Ah, don’t look so dismayed, I know it is bad luck in your human customs for the couple to see each other before the wedding ceremony, but I couldn’t be apart from you that long.”

Malleus seems not to notice the tension in the air, and Sebek feels himself disappear into the wallpaper when you snap out of your startled haze. He watches the two of you share a kiss like he’s not in the room, and Sebek feels the wetness gather in his eyes, threatening to drench his cheeks any second. The two of you are so occupied by each other, neither of you react to him leaving.

iv. and glorious thorn

While everyone else gathers at the centre of the floor, dancing together in celebration, Sebek sits in the corner of the wedding venue. His eyes try and lose you, but every time they inevitably find their way back to your form, held in Malleus’ arms as the two of you sway together. He spots Lilia break off from the group, approaching his table.

“This would be a good chance for you to socialize, Sebek. You know most of Briar Valley is here, you could meet a nice fae like you’ve always wanted.”

“I’m not interested in such things,” Sebek dismisses.

“I see. Has someone else perhaps caught your eye?” Lilia follows Sebek’s line of sight, sighing when it lands on you. “Has something upset you?”

“I made them sad. I don’t know why but seeing them sad, I can’t help but feel…no. No, why should I feel upset? My lord has married the most beautiful person in the world. Nothing could make me happier,” Sebek murmurs.

“Sebek…”

“Lilia, why does my chest hurt? Why does it almost feel like…I didn’t want them to go.”

“That’s just love,” Lilia says, taking a seat beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe you need to take some time away. I could see if Silver would accompany you-”

“I need to be here. To protect both of them. My feelings…they are irrelevant. My life is sworn to Malleus. I will be okay if I know they are happy.”

Sebek’s gaze lingers. He can’t help but feel that his eyes will give out before they ever stray from you.

[wordstome]

Shrike pt. 3 - who we are

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, she/her pronouns, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander, absolute tooth rotting fluff, corny as hell towards the end

2.8k words

tw: physical and emotional abuse, violence (chokehold, stabbing, throat slitting)

Hello to everyone reading this from my main blog! In case you haven't seen the pinned post on bucca2, this is my new writing blog. Everything I publish will be here on wordstome now. Please feel free to unfollow bucca2 and follow me here!

also PARIS PALOMA TEASED HER NEW SONG "DRYWALL" JUST FOR SHRIKE CHAPTER 3 SPREAD THE WORD

[PART 1] [PART 2 (PREV)] [MASTERLIST]

What I had left here I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife

When you’re in total darkness, your eyes adjust. You can see everything around you, but it’s all devoid of color. Then when the light turns on, it blinds you, but it’s better to be blinded momentarily than to live in the dark forever.

That’s how it feels as you prepare to travel home. To escape. You’re antsy, excited and petrified at the same time. Before, it felt like the days flew past in a murky haze. Now, even the seconds crawl.

It feels like moving in a dream, like you’ll wake up any day now and it will all be taken away from you. Your hope, your new dreams for the future, your König.

A shiver runs through you. Where did “your König” come from?

When you’re not occupied with the anxiety of keeping such a huge secret from your husband, all you think about is König. You’ve spent the past few weeks in a haze, like he’s put some sort of spell on you. You do get a kick out of imagining him as a witch with a hat and cauldron.

But you know it’s something simpler than that. All the feelings you used to have for him have returned.  It’s different than the heady rush you used to get with your husband. It feels sweeter, like you really are a teenage girl with a crush all over again.

It feels naïve, but you also don’t care. You feel safe despite the situation you’re still in, for the first time in a long time. You never would have expected to see König again—even less so for him to become your saving grace.

It seems silly in hindsight that you had been so frightened of him. Sure, the mask was a lot. But it had been something about his energy. It was different than you had ever felt from him, before or after your reunion. If he was that way on the battlefield, then no wonder he had earned the nickname König. You’re not sure if it scares or awes you.

You’re about to find out.

An anxiety attack is the worst feeling in the world.

You dry heave. Your chest feels like a roiling ball of angry carrion birds hollowing you out. You shake like a leaf in the wind. You fall down a long, dark pit of despair as your stomach seizes with nausea.

The train’s delayed. There’s been an issue with the tracks leading out of the city. No trains will be leaving for 12 hours.

You should have just sat in the terminal and waited, or tried to contact König, but you’re not thinking straight. All of your thoughts are focused on your husband, and what he’ll do if he comes home and finds you gone. You decide, somehow, that it would be wiser to throw yourself back into the lion’s den and pretend everything’s alright instead of waiting for him to come raging into the train station and pull you out by the hair. The thought of that is the only thing that gets you up off the wall you were hyperventilating against and back towards home.

The plan is to get home before he does and hide your suitcases. He’s usually not home by this time, anyway. You chalk the rising sense of dread in the pit of your stomach up to your anxiety and turn the handle to go in.

Fuck.

He’s standing in the kitchen.

The years have not been kind to him. He’s far from the charming young man you married. He’s wretched, unkempt, angry. It’s clear he’s been drinking, maybe even before he left work. The shadows etch themselves into the lines of his face as his expression twists into something awful, inhuman. You stand, frozen, as he approaches you.

“Planning a trip without me?” he asks with an awful grin.

You can still salvage this. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I just received word. My mother’s not doing well. I have to go see her.”

“You lie like a whore,” he snarls. “Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention. You’re different nowadays. Not the nice obedient woman I married.”

Your fear turns to anger in an instant. Years and years of this horseshit, waiting on him hand and foot, placing his smallest whims before your own needs and wants—it rushes up through you like hot steam. His nice obedient woman. And the worst thing is, you hate that he’s not wrong. That is what you’ve become.

“Yesterday I came home and you hadn’t even started dinner. Where were you, huh? Running around on me behind my back?” It’s difficult to describe, but his smile is oily: sleazy, untrustworthy, dangerous. “With that big fuck in a hood that came here with the mercenaries, perhaps?”

Your blood runs cold at that. Has he seen you with König? When? Why hasn’t he said anything? It feels like you’re stepping into a trap, but you must move forward if you want to get out.

“He’s going to get what’s coming to him, alright. My manager has a direct line to his boss. One word from him will get that fucker deployed to the middle of nowhere on a suicide mission.”

It’s an absurd threat, and you know it. This drunken idiot has no idea what he’s talking about—as if some middle-management bureaucrat could persuade a PMC to dispose of a soldier like König. But it’s the audacity that irks you. You’ve lived your life serving this man for too long, and now he thinks the world will bend to his whims. There’s absolutely no way he can touch König, but an old and familiar anger rises in you.

A long overdue revelation dawns on you now. He’s a bully. The same as Andreas: little boys with petty insults and empty threats. Pushing people around because their own lives are empty and unsatisfying.

An eerie calm breaks through you like the sky cutting through a storm. The man before you is just a feral animal, snarling and snapping in desperation. You’re not afraid of him anymore.

You reach behind you and slowly roll open the knife drawer, grabbing the first one your fingers land on.

“I’m leaving. I’m leaving this house, this country, and this marriage,” you say, gripping the knife in a defensive position. Your father taught you how to hold a knife like this: backwards, with the blade along your arm, sharp edge facing outwards.

“This way, it’s much more difficult for someone to turn the blade against you,” he had told you, demonstrating the motion by moving your arm towards your chest. The memory makes you smile. At the time, you’d been indulging your old man—he had always said that violence was a last resort, but that the world was unkind and one day you may have to defend yourself. He was right, just as he was when he told you he had reservations about your marriage.

You’re going home. You’re going to see your father again. And you’ll never have to tolerate the loathsome toad before you again.

The beast laughs. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? Stab me?” He’s up against you before you can react, the breath leaving your lungs in a gasp as he pins you against a wall by the throat.

“You. Are. Mine. You will never raise a hand against me because I own you,” he hisses, his alcohol-laced breath foul against your face. “And it’s high time you remembered that.” His grip tightens like an iron vice around your throat, but you’re not afraid. Even as your vision begins to blur and blacken, you stare directly into his eyes. They’re like red-hot coals of fury, but you see what’s behind them now. The fear. The cowardice of a desperate man who has no recourse but to lay his hands on someone who can’t fight back.

“You’re pathetic,” you rasp, lips tugging into a smile. The coals burn brighter. The hand squeezes tighter. The adrenaline surges through you like a tide—and your body acts to protect itself, in a way that you haven’t allowed it to in a long time. A feeling as sweet and familiar as an old friend.

The knife makes its home right between his ribs.

He staggers away from you, as if you had slightly winded him instead of stabbed him in the heart. Your hands instantly go to your throat as you cough and sputter, lightheaded and dizzy but alive, so alive. You’ve never felt so alive as you do right now, watching the demon of your own personal hell look down at the blade sticking out of him.

“You stupid little bitch—” He makes as if to lunge at you, but time slows. Your eyes widen as the shadows behind him melt and solidify into a figure. Tall and hooded. No knight in shining armor, but an assassin of deepest night.

König slashes through your husband’s throat in one deadly, beautiful motion.

Your husband falls to the ground like dead weight, gasping and choking on his own blood. Your eyes are fixed on him, a strange sensation bubbling through you. You’re making some kind of noise, loud and cacophonous, as König steps over the dying animal who has controlled you your whole adult life.

His arms find their way around you as you slowly sink to the ground, howling and wailing. He’s so patient, you think numbly with some corner of your mind that remains untouched by the mania seizing the rest of you. The two of you sit there, his body warm and solid against yours, as your body slowly exits fight or flight mode.

“Alex?” you say hoarsely once you’re in your right mind again.

“I’m here,” he rumbles.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the hood off his head. There he is, your Alexander, all grown up. He’s rugged, with nasty-looking white scars streaked across his face, but so, so handsome. His eyes are still the same as he looks at you with something akin to rapturous adoration. Your green-eyed boy.

“You’re back, rosethorn,” he says with a wide grin. There’s a touch of madness to it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Was I…” Exhaustion sets in, seeping through your whole body. “Was I crying or laughing just now?”

He shifts you onto his lap, cradling you like a baby as you look up at him.

“I think you were laughing.”

The police release you after just over half an hour of questioning.

You aren’t going anywhere, of course. They’re leaving you, exiting your hospital room with murmurs of well-wishes for your health. They’ve hardly left the room when König comes striding in, instantly moving to your bedside and holding your hand in his.

He looks tired too, his eyes soft as he takes in your small smile. You’re sure he was being interrogated for much longer than you, but it looks like he passed muster as well. Not as if you had anything to worry about—what could the local police have done to the commander of the mercenaries taking down their local terrorist cell anyway?

“Are you alright? Did they clear you?” His expression hardens as he glances at your neck. You nod weakly. Your throat is going to be bruised for a while, but your attacker hadn’t done any lasting damage.

Attacker. Husband. Corpse. All of these words describe the same thing now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he says mournfully. “He shouldn’t have had the chance to attack you like that.”

You shake your head at him. He didn’t know that you weren’t on the train heading home, after all. The room is quiet for a few moments, save for the distant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Why…” you manage to ask. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“Why was I there?” He glances around to make sure nobody’s listening, and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I was there to kill him, of course.”

You shudder a little. He admits it so casually, that he was in your house because he was there to commit a murder. You should be afraid of him, but you feel around in your brain and come up empty-handed.

Instead, you find yourself worried. For him. “What if you had gotten in trouble?”

He snorts. “You underestimate me, rosethorn. I would have just framed it as a robbery.”

You nod. Oh God…does that mean he had planned this? Why doesn’t that horrify or disgust you? You’re just going to have to dissect that later. Right now, you only feel a warm affection towards the man stroking his thumb along your hand in a soothing motion.

“So…what comes next?”

“You’re asking me? We can do whatever you like. I can take you home.”

Home. Where is that, now? It’s certainly not in the house you’ve left behind, where the ghost of the man you were married to settles in every nook and cranny. It doesn’t feel like your childhood home where your parents are, either.

It’s such a corny saying, “home is where the heart is”. But home feels like it’s already here, sitting next to your hospital bed with the fondest look in his eyes.

“I’d like to travel,” you whisper. The with you goes unspoken.

“I have plenty of leave time saved up.”

You flip your hand so you can hold his. It’s huge next to yours. This is the hand that slit your husband’s throat, a hand that has killed countless people.

You’re not sentimental enough to pretend that’s not an issue. You’re not entirely sure this is happily ever after: that all of your problems are solved because you’ve replaced one violent man with another. But another part of you yearns to be the one who gets protected. You’ll take care of König, and you know he’ll take care of you. In his own way.

You can ask the questions later. Right now, you have lost time to make up for.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that scarf?”

The air is cold, but the wind is soft instead of feeling like tiny blades against your face. You tug said scarf down from your face and take in a lungful of crisp, icy air.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure König as he hauls himself up the last ridge to where you’re standing. “It’s loose enough. And it’s chilly.”

“If you say so.” He tugs his neck gaiter further up his nose. “What a view, hm?”

You’re standing on Mont Blanc, blanketed by serene white snow just as the name promised. Further below you, the skiing slopes are crawling with tourists, but here in this little outcropping, the only sound is the occasional rush of wind and your voices.

“I think I can see Salzburg from here,” you say, pointing off into gorgeous landscape spread out before you.

“That is most certainly still Switzerland,” König says, amused. You turn to look at him instead and are rewarded with his shining green eyes looking right back at you.

“Whatever!” You let out a dissatisfied hmph, which draws a hearty laugh from him.

“You came all the way to Chamonix just so you could look at Austria again?”

“It’s a very tall mountain,” you argue.

“It’s one of many very tall mountains. We could have just gone to Großglockner.”

“That’s boring. I’ve always wanted to visit France.”

“You wanted to visit a very expensive ski chalet.”

“Bite me.”

“I just might!” You giggle and squeal as he grabs you, chasing your face with his as you squirm around.

“It is beautiful,” he concedes as he holds a hand above his eyes to keep off the sun. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“I should push you off this peak right now.”

“You couldn’t move me an inch.” He grabs you by the waist and holds you tight to emphasize his point. You can’t even shift his arms off you, no matter how hard you push.

“Ok, fine, you win.” You pout at him, but he doesn’t let you go.

The dynamic the two of you share is so easygoing and relaxed, it’s like you had a rhythm all along that both of you just fell back into. But of course, there are some things you’ve never done together. Like travel together.

Or kiss.

“Are you going to do it this time?” you ask him, smiling.

His nose wrinkles up, uncharacteristically cute for someone like him. “Well, I was going to, but then you had to open your mouth.”

You cackle. “Go on then.”

“Can I?”

“I just said yes!”

“I forgot how much you like to talk,” he complains. Before you can say another word, he captures your lips in his.

The sky is vivid and blue as the whole world stretches out before you.

#RIPBOZO

Here we are! We're at the end of this little story I started writing on a whim. Honestly, this means a lot to me personally: I wrote a lot when I was younger, but high school and university were very difficult times for me, and I stopped writing fanfiction. I tried to get back into it during the pandemic, but I was never able to finish anything beyond a long-ish drabble. I'm quite proud of this.

Even still, I feel like there are a lot of stories that I still want to tell about this couple. There's quite a lot that I decided to cut from these main 3 chapters for the sake of pacing and time. There's a little bit of dissatisfaction at not having crammed in every little detail that I wanted, but if there's one thing that writing university papers has taught me, it's that perfectionism will keep you from getting anything done. So you will be getting more from Alex and Thorn in the future!

I know a lot of you were anticipating what delicious revenge König was going to exact on Thorn's husband, so I hope you weren't too disappointed ;; While I personally would have loved to have König strap him to a chair in the basement and do some morbid things with a knife, I think it was important for Thorn's character that she's involved in it. While of course the main focus of this story is König, Shrike is also about his beloved Thorn. I hope to explore König and the darker (and pervier) aspects of his character more in subsequent stories. But for now, they're getting a well-deserved happy ending.

One last thing before I go: Chamonix is a resort town in central/southeast France, not far from Lyon. (Sorry, I don't know whether Lyon is south enough to be considered southern France lol). Mont Blanc is Chamonix's main peak of the Alps, and is known for how pretty it is and being at the border of France, Switzerland, and Italy. As König said, if you wanted to visit a mountain as an Austrian, there are several of them at home you could visit, but since I visited it a few years ago, Chamonix has a special place in my heart. I just had to cram it in!

As usual, I'm excited to see your comments and feedback. I've read every single thing everybody has commented about this fic, even if I couldn't respond to you all, and I appreciate it so deeply. Whenever I get feedback I literally feel like kicking my feet and giggling. And if you want to ask questions or request specific scenarios with Thorn and Alex, please do send me an ask!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @kneelingshadowsalome @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @fireballoveraltanta

psst. to my tag list people while I have you here: naturally I will continue tagging you in other Shrike stories, but I'll also be using this same tag list for every other König fic I write. If you'd like to opt out of that, let me know. (No hard feelings, of course :3)

[daisygirlwrites]

Hi

I was wondering if I could get a platonic Simon ghost Riley headcanon of just simply being best friends with him ??

Rough Start (pt 1)

Summary: The first few months of Ghost and Crash's relationship

(pt 2-olive branch)

(pt 3-little things)

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and death. Mentions of verbal abuse. Slight Angst

Pairing(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem! Reader (Platonic)

Note: No use of (Y/N). Crash's former callsign was 'Shrike'

a/n: hello hello! im so sorry that i've been late with posting, my schedule keeps changing >:0 but i am finding times to write! as you can see, this is going to be a multi part because i had no self control when writing these headcanons. not sure how long it's going to be but i do know that the next part will be up this week! another thing, just passed 200 followers! i will make a separate post about itbut please send me asks/request! thank you so much for reading!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @itsscromp

He, along with Price, heard the rumors going around you. It was said that your skills were similar to his and that people called you “Little Ghost” behind your back. Like him, your specialty is sabotage and infiltration. Both men do some digging into your file.

Ghost was sent a redacted report, wanting to see what skills and training you’ve had but not really interested in your past. On the other hand, Price and Laswell were given the uncensored one. 

Some parts of the report made his eyebrow raise though. Especially the one about your former team and their last ‘mission’. At this point he was curious and wanted to take a look of Price’s copy because some of the things he read was: 

“Captain Lovelace Reported Dead”  “Section Name: ‘BIRD'S NEST’; Turned Against Each Other”  “Multiple Buildings On Fire”  “Three Survivors: [REDACTED], [REDACTED], and [(LASTNAME)]”

Hell, your (former) callsign was covered with a black line too

But again, he looked over your skill list and previous experiences. If he were to compare an old file of his to your current file, it would be identical. No wonder why Price wants you so badly on the task force, you’re a younger Ghost

He gets called in by Price to have a meeting about your recruitment. He wanted to know Ghost’s opinion about you, though, his mind is already made up about having you on the team. Ghost tells him that having you would be beneficial and that the task force needs more members anyway. But what he doesn’t tell Price is his hesitation for you. Files and reports are one thing but he needs to see you in action to be fully convinced

Price, knowing Ghost for years now, can see the slight uncertainty in his eyes. To help with this, he and Laswell call up old contacts and former teammates that worked with you. All of them give you a glowing review but Ghost remains unconvinced. That is until Price contacts Mace, a former operator that Ghost used to work with.

“Just need your honest opinion about her.” Price said to the phone. 

“About Shrike? Well, let’s see; Quiet, does what she’s told, hell of a shot and handy with knives too,” Mace paused for a second, trying to find the right words for what he was going to say next. “She’s still young and honestly, she can benefit with some training but I’m telling you, Price, she reminds me of Ghost when I worked with him seven years ago.”

Laswell made a face, as if she were to say ‘I’m impressed’, while Price eyed Ghost, studying his eyes for any reaction.

“You don’t say?” 

“Look, if you don’t want her on the task force, I will gladly have her join my crew.”

Price lets out a soft chuckle, “Sorry Mace, I think we’ll have her transferred to us.”

As Price and Laswell finalize your transfer, Ghost starts making his way out of the office. Price stops him. “Simon,” He calls out. It was rare for him to get called by his last name, let alone his first. Hand already on the doorknob, he turns his head, facing Price. He watches him take a breath, before stating “You’ll be mentoring her.”

“I’m sorry sir, what?”

“You heard me. You’re going to be her mentor.”

Ghost lets out a scoff, “I don’t want to play babysitter, Captain.”

“Out of everyone in the team, she shares the same skillset as you. Plus, it shouldn't take long before she catches up.”  Ghost looks away, not wanting Price to know that the last comment bothered him. All he could do was nod and leave.

Fast forward a couple weeks. He, Price and Laswell stand outside the base, watching planes and helicopters land and take off, waiting for your arrival. After a couple minutes, they see a Black Hawk touch down a couple hundred feet in front of them. The blades slow down as the side door opens. Out walks you, a duffle bag in each hand and a rifle case strapped to your back. Spotting the trio, you walk to their direction

Ghost stares at you as you walk towards them. For one, you are much shorter than anticipated, probably around 5’4. Another thing that he notices is your outfit; black hoodie, black cargo pants and a simple black facemask. Price looks at you two and takes note that you look like Ghost’s mini-me, matching outfit and all.  

Price was the first to greet you, and ever the gentleman, takes one of your bags even though you respectfully refused. “Now you can properly shake my hand.”

Laswell was next but she gives you a look, as if she were trying to remember something (or someone). Still your introduction was pleasant. 

Ghost stayed silent as he watched your interactions with each other. He didn’t even say anything to you as you held out your hand and told him your name and rank. There’s an awkward air between you two and Price watches on, only stepping in to introduce Ghost himself. “This is Lieutenant Simon Riley, your mentor.” 

Finally, he returns your handshake. “Call me Ghost.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Training doesn’t start until after your first mission together, which is literally the day after you got to base. Price was concerned at first but Ghost reasons with him; he wants to see how you do when being thrown in the deep end

And you do better than he expected you to. He understands what everyone is saying now and why they wanted you in their team; you may be young and have many things to work on, but you have the potential to be like him. As he is in the height of his career, within years time and training, you have the ability to surpass him.

This makes him a bit conflicted. For one, it’s an advantage to have someone like you in the team but on the other hand he’s worked hard and suffered through so much to be where he is now, so seeing you, young and even optimistic at times, makes him jealous. And Price’s comment stuck with him. A part of Ghost feels like he’s going to get replaced by a younger and better verison in a couple years

So when training does start, he treats you as if you were in basic again and he doesn’t hold back either, especially with how you are on the field. 

Price thinks Ghost goes a little too rough in the training sessions but he doesn’t know his jealousy towards you

Will nitpick at every little mistake you do, yelling and shouting as he does so. Has called you stupid, idiot and weak. Does not hold back his strength during hand to hand. 

But time and time again, you get up, hands and arms anticipating his next moves, blinking away tears that threaten to spill in front of him. Honestly, this makes him respect you whenever you do this and it also pisses him off even more.

During missions, you are amazing but Ghost wants perfection. He only talks about the objective and anything relating to it. However, when you get back to base, even if the mission goes well, he reprimands you on what you did wrong and what you could have done better. And like how he is during training, he isn’t nice about it either.

This hostile attitude towards you goes for about four months since you joined the team. The rest of the 141 made comments towards him about it but never really stepped in, mostly with how you’re taking everything and not letting it bother you. Yes you’re quiet and shy in the group, but they’ve seen your small acts of kindness. Helping to put gear away, getting them drinks and snacks during breaks and cleaning up the meeting room after it’s done. 

But you are still human and you have your limits too. Everything that he throws at you starts to chip the mask you wore whenever he yells. And tonight, you were at the breaking point.

The mission went well, all things considered. Objective cleared and only leaving with some minor injuries too. However during the mission, you noticed some movement from the corner of your eye. An enemy and he was close behind Ghost. You were going off of instincts, immediately pulling out your knife and chucking it towards the man behind him. From Ghost’s perspective, you literally turned around and threw a knife in his direction. He would have screamed at you if it weren’t for the sound of a man choking on his own blood. Ghost turns his head and finds the said man, slumped down against the wall dying and your knife stuck in his neck. Grabbing the handle, twisting it for good measure, he takes it out and hands it back to you. You feel a small sense of pride and happiness when he nods at you.

Thinking that you did good in the mission, maybe this time Ghost won’t yell at you afterwards. But you were very wrong. Once you enter the main building at base, he goes off on you. And your heart breaks all over again, confused at why he keeps doing this and angry at yourself for believing you did something correct.

Price and Soap step in, between you two, to defend your actions and even call him out on his behavior.

Honestly, at this point, Ghost just wants to see you blow up and he believes that you will. But to his shock, you put a gentle hand on Price and Soap’s shoulders and shake your head. You step towards him, meeting his eyes. 

There’s a usual ‘sparkle’ in your eyes but this time, you look like you’re dead inside. Months of this verbal abuse, you’re done and he can tell. 

The rest of the team step back to give you some space, the room filled with uncomfortable silence. 

Your voice, barely above a whisper, questioned him “Why do you hate me?” You search his eyes for an answer, a sign, anything. But he doesn’t give you one, so you guess instead. “Is it because you envy me?”

Ghost eyes widen and you scoff in response, finally getting the message and leaving the room without acknowledging the others. 

The team didn’t hear what you were saying but they can tell that it properly pissed off Ghost, watching his hands ball up into fists. However, he doesn’t go after you because in the end, you were right

Part 2 Here!

Part 3 There!

[ofmistandmire]

ARC 1 - OUT OF THE ASHES

Nearly four years ago, Scorching Rays was named the Voice of the Kith of the Whispering Grove. He had held a reputation as a proud and strong cat, and it was initially believed that he would lead the Kith into an age of success and honor. However, as the moons passed and Scorching Rays' reign carried on, his true intentions began to be revealed. Power-hungry and remorseless, Scorching Rays slowly transformed into a cruel tyrant before the eyes of his kithmates. With the remainder of the Council finding themselves near-powerless after the appointment of Billowing Bane, Scorching Rays' staunchest supporter, as Head Fighter and Successor, it seemed there was little anyone could do to stop him. Scorching Rays held little regard for the laws and traditions of the Kith, openly defying the Code and going against the Kith's previous commitments to remaining a peaceful presence in the area. With a disdain for Outsiders, he severed many of the positive relationships and alliances the Kith had formed with their neighbors over generations. He also began increasing the militarization of the Kith, ordering members of several Trades to cease their usual duties in favor of increasing patrols, tightening borders, and preparing for battle. Cut off from their former trade partners, and with fewer cats focusing on maintaining the Gardens, Aviaries, Library, and other vital structures, members of the Kith began to experience supply shortages and undue stress. However, any who were brave enough to speak up in opposition of Scorching Rays would be dealt harsh punishments, culminating in the brutal execution of the Head Spiritualist, Devout Tempest, for daring to question his leadership. As the Kith deteriorated under Scorching Rays’ grip, and especially after watching as one of her fellow Council members was struck down, Striking Talon, the Kith's Head Crafter, knew she could not sit idly by. Though she could do little in an official capacity, she began gathering loyal kithmates in secret with plans to rise up and remove Rays from leadership. When it became apparent that Scorching Rays was ready to launch a needless full-scale war against the neighboring Pride of Panthera, she made her move. As she suddenly struck Scorching Rays, her forces rallied behind her and battle broke out in camp, the rebels rising up against the tyrant and his supporters. In the ensuing conflict, Billowing Bane was killed by the vengeful Whistling Shrike, one of Talon's most trusted followers in the rebellion. Scorching Rays was left wounded but alive, and Striking Talon's rebels chased him and his surviving followers from Kith territory, with the promise that they would be met without mercy if they were ever to return. With no Successor remaining, Striking Talon claimed the role of Voice, vowing to restore her Kith to the security and peace they had once known. In an unprecedented move, she appointed Whistling Shrike as her Head Fighter without holding the customary election, citing the need for the support of the Fighters if Scorching Rays were to attempt to return. Now, the cats of the Kith have begun to rebuild their home in the wake of the tumult. And though the dust seems to have begun to settle, a lingering current of anxiety runs through many of them still - their former tyrant still alive, threatening to lunge from the shadows and return to claim his place once more. Still others may find themselves doubtful of their new leader - can a cat who seized power by force truly lead with a pure heart? Or is the true threat something far older and deeper than anyone could have imagined?

Of Mist and Mire will be taking applications for our first opening from March 1st to March 22nd, 2024. More information to follow in the coming days, including adoptable characters.

Rules | FAQ | Character Creation Guide | Timeline

[gerryrigged]

For the wip ask game, could you say more about the DickTim reverse robin AU? 👀

Ahhh, I love that one, but it has several backstory/set-up arcs before the romance can even kick off hghkkldjfs THE STRUGGLES

OKAY SO. This is a story about a young Dick being in love with a years-older Tim from childhood, reversing their usual ship dynamic. Most of what I have so far is concerning their backstories, when Dick is still quite young (5-10-ish), so it's more of a puppy love at that point, while Tim sees him as a child.

Overview of the first arc below the cut.

First off, 12-year-old Tim is newly training to be Shrike (the hero identity Damian Wayne abandoned (or Batman took away from him; opinions differ) after he and Bruce had a serious falling out). As part of that training, he's sent to learn from various experts in physical and crime-fighting arts, much as Bruce did when he first left Gotham, or as Tim was meant to on his first Paris trip in canon.

So Tim ends up training in acrobatics for a month with the famous Flying Graysons, whom he has long admired - along with their 5-year-old wunderkind son, Dickie. Who absolutely adores Tim, following him around everywhere, showing off his own (legitimately incredible) skills, sweetly promising to 'teach Timmy everything he knows' and insisting on flying with Tim on the trapeze at every opportunity. Tim fully dotes on him, and Dick just blooms like a little flower whenever he has the older boy's attention.

When Tim isn't training (or catering to Dick's adorably bossy whims), he's often taking pictures with the beloved camera he couldn't bring himself to leave at home. And the circus provides such a vivid panorama to capture - something new every moment!

Once, however, he unknowingly photographs something dangerous, and when someone is sent to steal the evidence (ie Tim's camera), Dickie walks in on the attempted theft. He starts to shout, but is immediately grabbed and a hand clamped over his mouth. Dickie struggles harder, kicking and screaming even with his mouth closed, so the man shushing him grips even tighter, his big hand covering the whole of Dickie's tiny mouth and nose.

Dickie soon starts to suffocate.

Until Tim bursts in, fast and furious. Dick, still thrashing weakly but fading fast, sees Tim run up and do a flying kick to take down the other thug on the scene. He hears Tim yell out for him, just as his eyes roll up and he loses consciousness.

Tim ends up having to perform CPR - luckily, learning first aid, including forms of CPR for all ages, was one of the first things Bruce set him to learning.

Dickie wakes up with Tim breathing life into him, while John and Mary also kneel close by, frantic, with various circus folk pacing on phones to 9-1-1 or kicking the tied-up thugs in the background.

Dickie stares up at Tim, the fuzzy white static of oxygen deprivation painting a halo all around him in Dickie's vision. His knight in shining armor!!! His HERO!!!!!!

(Meanwhile, Tim is trying not to break down crying or hug Dickie so tight in relief that he has trouble breathing again.)

The Graysons REALLY adopt Tim after that. The whole circus does.

("I'm gonna marry Timmy!" Dickie insists after they get home from the hospital. He's suckered Tim onto his bed with him with tearful eyes (Tim really didn't need much prodding to come and cuddle him immediately) and is glommed onto Tim's waist, clinging. "Just you watch." Mary teases (somewhat emotionally) that Tim already stole Dickie's first kiss, so of course he has to make an honest boy of him. Then Tim can be a Grayson 'officially' - hurray, she's so happy!)

(Tim can't stop smiling, so he hides it by pressing his lips to Dickie's hair.)

Tim keeps in contact with Mary, John, and especially Dick after he has to leave. Video calls, texts, postcards, the works. And he makes time to fly out whenever Haly's is traveling the eastern seaboard - to visit, cheer on their performances, spend time playing around with Dickie all over the circus and on the trapeze.

He's family.

("He's my fiance," Dickie corrects. "I thought you said he was your older brother?" one of the clowns asks, tapping his nose teasingly. "Same thing," Dickie sniffs, batting him away.)

So of course 8-year-old Dick notices immediately when Tim stops returning his texts. And his emails. And answering his phone - until his voicemail fills all the way up from Dickie's frantic calls.

It takes them a while to track down Tim's obituary, and the write-up of his funeral, in the Gotham Gazette. Tim had been so private about the people in his life away from the circus, so they hadn't had anyone else to call and ask, and limited resources to put into the search from their tour on the other side of the continent.

When they find out, Dick sinks to the floor and curls into a ball, a silent little pillbug of lost, confused grief. Mary scoops him up and wraps herself around him, and John wraps himself around Mary. They rock, and they soak each other's skin with tears, until Dick's heart cracks open and a thin, wavering wail pours out. It never seems to stop.

He doesn't smile or speak for weeks.

[magnetothemagnificent]

I guess it's time I share my list of birds from this past Jewish year (I've been keeping two Big Year lists, Jewish year and secular year). All are from the US, except the last few which are indicated.

1. Ruby-crowned kinglet

2. American Robin

* Leucistic American Robin

3. Song sparrow

4. Rock pigeon

* Melanistic rock pigeon

5. Chipping sparrow

6. Hairy woodpecker

7. Mourning dove

8. Northern flicker

9. Eastern towhee

10. White crowned sparrow

11. White-throated sparrow

12 Savannah sparrow

13. House sparrow

14. European starling

15. American Crow

16. Common Raven

17. Gray catbird

18. Northern mockingbird

19. Canada Goose

20. Spotted Sandpiper

21. American herring gull

22. Marsh wren

23. Limpkin

24. Great white heron

25. Cattle egret

26. Anhinga

27. Snowy egret

28. Great blue heron

29. Black-crowned night heron

30. Wood stork

31. Common gallinule

32. Blue-gray gnatcatcher

33. Turkey vulture

34. Black vulture

35. Yellow rumped warbler

36. Tufted titmouse

37. Little blue heron

38. White ibis

39. Cooper's hawk

40. Cardinal

41. Green heron

42. Carolina wren

43. Palm warbler

44. Pine warbler

45. Sandhill crane

46. Carolina chickadee

47. Bluejay

48. Osprey

49. Chimney swift

50. Red-tailed hawk

51. Prairie warbler

52. American kestrel

53. Glossy ibis

54. Pied-billed grebe

55. Double-crested cormorant

56. Grey kingbird

57. Brown pelican

58. Fish crow

59. Royal tern

60. Bald eagle

61. Painted bunting

62. American white pelican

63. Common grackle

64. Boat-tailed grackle

65. Great-tailed grackle

66. American purple gallinule

67. American coot

68. Brown-headed cowbird

69. Tricolored heron

70. Mallard

71. Black-bellied whistling duck

72. Eastern kingbird

73. Yellow-billed cuckoo

74. Muscovy duck

75. American bittern

76. Ring-billed gull

77. American Pekin

78. Mallard-Pekin hybrid

79. Eastern bluebird

80. Yellow-bellied sapsucker

81. Red-winged blackbird

82. White-eyed vireo

83. Mottled duck

84. Broad-winged hawk

85. Dark-eyed junco

86. Brown thrasher

87. Sharp-shinned hawk

88. House finch

89. Eastern Phoebe

90. Downy woodpecker

91. Fox sparrow

92. Loggerhead Shrike!!!!

93. White breasted nuthatch

94. Red-bellied woodpecker

95. Brown creeper

96. Pileated woodpecker

97. American goldfinch

98. House wren

99. Barn swallow

100. Tree swallow

101. Black and white warbler

102. Red eyed vireo

103. Yellow warbler

104. Mute swan

105. Rusty blackbird

106. Common yellowthroat

107. Warbling vireo

108. Northern waterthrush

109. Veery

110. Swamp sparrow

111. Wood duck

112. American redstart

113. Orchard oriole

114. Greater Yellowlegs

115. Lesser Yellowlegs

116. Baltimore oriole

117. Hermit thrush

118. Wood thrush

119. Ovenbird

120. Indigo bunting

121. Black-throated blue warbler

122. Scarlet tanager

123. Worm-eating warbler

124. Northern rough-winged swallow

125. Blue-headed vireo

126. Northern parula

127. Prothonotary warbler

128. Philadelphia vireo

129. Blackburnian warbler

130. Magnolia warbler

131. Cedar waxwing

132. Blackpoll warbler

133. Yellow-throated vireo

134. Eastern wood pewee

135. Acadian flycatcher

136. Tennessee warbler

137. Caspian tern

138. Laughing gull

139. Forster's tern

140. American oystercatcher

141. Green-winged teal

142. Purple Martin

143. Least tern

144. Field sparrow

145. Killdeer

146. Grey-cheeked thrush

147. Rose-breasted grosbeak

148. Great-crested flycatcher

149. Swainson's thrush

150. Bay-breasted warbler

151. Chestnut-sided warbler

152. Willow flycatcher

153. Ruby-throated hummingbird

154. Peregrine falcon

155. Hooded crow IL

156. Laughing dove IL

157. Eurasian collared dove IL

158. Eurasian jackdaw IL

159. Common myna IL

160. Rose-ringed parakeet IL

161. White spectacled bulbul IL

162. European bee eater IL

163. Chukar IL

164. Short toed snake eagle IL

165. White stork IL

166. Little egret IL

167. Pygmy cormorant IL

168. Eurasian hoopoe IL

169. Alpine swift IL

170. Graceful pinia IL

171. Eastern Olivaceous Warbler IL

172. Tristan's Starling IL

173. Fan tailed raven IL

174. Eurasian black cap IL

Here's to at least 200 next year!

[theenpcbracket]

The TTRPG NPC Tournament FINAL MATCHUP: The Shrike vs. Mary Byram & HE

Images are in the order of the poll! Image ID included, click to see the full image please!

More about each NPC below the cut!

Character 1

Name: The Shrike Party: The Fosters Relationship to party: Mom, stepmom, former boss, current leader

What makes them the best NPC: She's a thousands-of-years-old gnomish planar-physics prodigy from the future. She's divorced. She's engaged. She misses her wife. She's an absentee mom and she's mom of the year. She bakes the best scones in the world. She will shoot you with a harpoon without hesitation. She invented robotics. She loves prime numbers. She built her own legs. She sold her soul to a dubious and unknowable god in order to save her species' future. She's even a lesbian. The Shike. Bwaaaa

Quote: "YOU DON'T GET TO BEAT ME AT THIS, MOTHERFUCKER. WILL YOU MARRY ME?"

To learn more about The Shrike, check out the extra propaganda in her tag here!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Character(s) 2*

*Due to an agreement between the parties during a tie very shortly before the polls closed (and due to it being the semifinal round of the tournament), Mary Byram and HE, though not from the same campaign, move forward as a team. Both descriptions are listed below in the order of their images above.

Name: Mary Byram Party: Ambiscade Gang Relationship to party: Coworker, divorcee

What makes them the best NPC: Mary Byram is living proof that the song “No Children” by The Mountain Goats doesn’t just have to be about romantic relationships gone wrong. She’s a bright red tiefling rogue with a storied past, currently working for a guild called the Thinfingers alongside one of the party members. Previously, she worked with a tiefling rights movement called Hellflame, but something happened there that she doesn’t really talk about. She’s still passionate about both the movement and the group, though.

Our bard lovingly calls her “Mare-Bear.” She hates this. She’s a day drinker. She’s exhausted always. She cares so much but will never admit it unless under duress. I think she genuinely thinks that god cursed her by metaphorically putting her in a get-along shirt with our rogue PC. Their dynamic allowed our party to coin the term “Coworker Divorce” except they’re literally not allowed to actually get rid of each other. She is also constantly saddled with the skater-pilled rogue who was also submitted to the bracket, so she’s usually outnumbered when it comes to harebrained schemes. She’s largely anti-antics, but is down for some antics if she's in control of them. She’s a mastermind and usually gives the help bonus action either by telling people what they fucked up or by telling them NOT to fuck something up. She deserves a break she’ll simply never get.

Quote: "Thoughts?" -the warlock, asking Mary about a proposed plan. "...More than you. Apparently." -Mary

To learn more about Mary, check out the extra propaganda in her tag here!

****

Name: HE Party: The Misdemeanor Mateys Relationship to party: Businessman, aggravating party stalker, final boss

What makes them the best NPC: Mysterious tiny man with static for a head, and the loudest screechiest voice you can imagine (DM once blew out their vocal chords because of him). Levitates and teleports at will, and can pop objects in and out of existence. Runs a business granting magical favors. Originally tried to hire the party to help his business but the group said "fuck no". Now regularly pops in to nag, cause trouble, or play meme songs on a calliope, and occasionally provides useful information. HE controls an alternate dimension called the Mercantile Pile full of items from different times and places, including lots of modern-day technology (unlike the D&D campaign setting). He can be summoned by writing out his name. His calling card is a 7 of Spades, which he can also use to influence the world & cast spells remotely. HE mainly wears business suits & suspenders, but has also appeared in a hazmat suit (riding a tricycle), turtleneck sweater and thigh holster, wetsuit with suspenders painted on, sequin jacket with '69' on the back, peacock burlesque, and nurse drag outfit. He once killed 20 guards with a snap of his fingers. He also destroyed a walkman with a flamethrower. Implied to be the father of the ultra-powerful kid whose primary pastime is handing out enchanted "friendship nuggets" [chicken]. His #1 business competitor is Michael's Wonder Emporium. Eventually turns out to be one of the most central characters to the story.

Quote: "STAY OFF MY THRONE!"

"You're going to call me when you need me!"

To learn more about HE, check out the extra propaganda in his tag here!

[thesunsethour]

my official ranking of (basically) every song by hozier

(ignoring some collabs/songs from soundtracks etc)

(this is just my opinion no one shout at me)

(he has no Bad songs, only Less Brilliant ones)

52) To Noise Making (Sing) (the sing chorus at the end goes on just *that* bit too long

51) Sunlight (slightly repetitive)

50) Nobody (maybe this is controversial? does however contain one of my favourite lyrics “it’s suicide Tuesday back in LA”)

49) Sedated (the lowest ranked song of his self titled album and it’s not because it’s not good it’s because his discography is fucking insane)

48) Someone New (only ranked this low because it was very overplayed in Ireland when it came out)

47) Almost (Sweet Music) (this was never my favourite song but who can resist “i laugh like me again she laughs like you”)

46) Son of Nyx (hozier made the best study music song of all time)

45) Wasteland, Baby! (sounds exactly like the album feels, if that makes sense?)

44) Swan Upon Leda (would be higher but i keep accidentally forgetting to add it to my playlist because it’s not on an album. also Free Palestine)

43) Better Love (hozier’s voice is so beautiful)

42) Dinner & Diatribes (ever since someone said he sounds like Count von Count in this song i can’t un-hear it)

41) It Will Come Back (so sexy. one of the sexiest songs in his oeuvre)

40) NFWMB (an under appreciated classic. i remember playing this in the car when my dad was dropping our friend’s kid to school and getting in trouble for the cursing)

39) The Parting Glass - Live from The Late Late Show (not only a beautiful rendition, but it was also performed during covid when everyone was feeling very hopeless and he just captivated ireland for a few short moments. gorgeous)

38) Anything But (we are reaching the territory of songs that are so goddamned good that it feels a crime they are so low down. he has dozens of such songs)

37) In the Woods Somewhere (eerie vibes which are beautiful and exacerbated when you find out he based this on a dream he had)

36) To Be Alone (again, CRIMINAL that this is so low down. blame hozier having so many good songs. don’t blame me)

35) Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene (a bop AND a banger AND a jam. triple threat)

34) Damage Gets Done (their voices are soooo beautiful together)

33) Be (“When Atlas acts the maggot” is one of Hozier’s best Irish culture lines)

32) The Jackboot Jump - Live (BUT THE JACKBOOT ONLY JUMPS DOWN ON PEOPLE STANDING UP!!!)

31) Shrike (this song made me cry when i first heard it and i am Not one to cry)

30) To Someone From a Warm Climate (Uiscefhuaraithe) (GAEILGE MENTION!!!!)

29) Jackie and Wilson (one of my first ever favourite hozier songs)

28) Talk (i love the myth of orpheus and eurydice and i ALSO imagine being loved by hozier)

27) Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue) (blowjobs)

26) Eat Your Young (hozier wrote this for all first year trinity students who had to read Swift for their intro to irish writing lectures)

25) All Things End (don’t be sad. we begin again :). hozier said so)

24) I, Carrion (Icarian) (soft, sad, beautiful. like hozier)

23) Nina Cried Power (feat. Mavis Staples) (also very overplayed in Ireland but this time it really deserved it!!)

22) Cherry Wine - Live (one of the most beautiful and recognisable guitar bits of all time. yes i said guitar bits i don’t know anything about guitars)

21) As It Was (the drug the dark the light the flame…)

20) First Time (“anyway”)

19) Who We Are (makes me feel like my chest is being lifted to god)

18) No Plan (“As Mack explained, there will be darkness again” is one of the all-time great Hozier lyrics actually)

17) Would That I (it’s illegal for anyone to dislike this song)

16) De Selby (Part 2) (he wants to run against the world that’s turning!! he moves so fast that he’d outpace the dawn!!)

15) De Selby (Part 1) (AN ENTIRE VERSE AS GAEILGE)

14) Like Real People Do (once again, how is this so low? hozier is too good. “we should just kiss like real people do” lyrics of all time)

13) Butchered Tongue (i wrote an entire essay post about this song. with citations)

12) From Eden (time has maybe made us forget just how fucking insanely good this song is. IDEALISM SITS IN PRISON CHIVALRY FELL ON HIS SWORD INNOCENCE DIED SCREAMING. also reminds me of verse 2 of Human by The Killers)

11) Work Song (WHEN MY TIME COMES AROUND LAY ME GENTLY IN THE COLD DARK EARTH. NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN. I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HER. also special mention for: “in the low lamp light i was free” aka the name of one of my criminal minds fanfics. moving on)

10) Run (SOOOOO underrated. literally rare is this love keep it covered! run to me run to me lover! run until you feel your lungs bleeding!)

9) Movement (i played this song every day on repeat for 2 months when i was 17)

8) Arsonist’s Lullabye (wario of better love. don’t ask me how or why)

7) In a Week (feat. Karen Cowley) (the most gorgeous beautiful song of all time their voices are perfect for each other - I’D BE HOME WITH YOU)

6) First Light (BUT AFTER THIS IM NEVER GONNA BE THE SAME!!! AND I AM NEVER GOING BACK AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!)

5) Francesca (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. URGAAAHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I’D TELL THEM PUT ME BACK IN IT!!!!!! DARLING I WOULD DO IT AGAIN!!!!!! IF I COULD HOLD YOU FOR A MINUTE!!!!! DARLING I’D GO THROUGH IT AGAIN!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

4) Unknown / Nth (DO YOU KNOWWWWW I COULD BREAK BENEATH THE WEIGHT OF THE GOODNESS LOVE I STILL CARRY FOR YOU!!!! he had no right to sing this. and as beautifully as he does. makes me cry. sha-la-la)

3) Abstract (Psychopomp) (this wasn’t originally my favourite when i first listened to Unreal Unearth has grown on my heart and will not let go. did you know the memory hurts but does me no harm. and did you SEE HOW IT SHINESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

2) Take Me To Church (this being his debut single. DEBUT. SINGLE. no one else was doing it like him. the vocals the lyrics god the beautiful lyrics the MUSIC VIDEO!!!! ireland’s best living artist.)

1) Foreigner’s God (my favourite song of all time. no notes. utterly perfect in every way.)

[casp1an-sea]

Aaron Drace

(I could not find the picrew link)

Other characters to know for his story: Jin (Wife), Ven (Daughter)

Birth Year: 54 BBY

Age at Beginning: 31

Species: Human, Narshada

Gender: Male, He/him

Sexuality: Pansexual

Height: 6’2”

Occupation: Mercenary/bounty hunter

—————————————————————————

Personality: Aaron is quite sarcastic and blunt. He’s also a bit of a flirt. He has a very cynical outlook on the world. He’s willing to do whatever for money but he does not kill unless he finds it justified (such as killing a murderer would be fine) He also doesn’t deal with children or slaves and he tries to avoid working with hutts.

Appearance: Aaron has pale skin and scruffy short bright red hair. He has brown eyes and an eyepatch over his left eye which he is blind in.

Weapon: 1 blaster pistol, a sniper riffle, a vibroblade, and a couple thermal detonators

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Backstory: Aaron grew up in the slums of Narshada. His mother was a danser, his father was her boss. She hid him from her boss for several years, He was 10 when he got found out and his mother was killed by her boss over it. Seeing Aaron was a capable young man his mom’s boss took him on as an indentured servant but Aaron left at the age of 13 and started working as a mercenary and started making connections with several bounty hunters, mercenaries, smugglers, and pirates, like Hondo Onaka and aurra sing. He was hired by the people of Cordoniq to stop the taking of the citizens' children by mercenaries hired by the government, this is where he met Jin and Zac. A little while afterwards he started dating Jin in secret. His home base at this point was on Corelia and they would meet there in secret. He was also is enemies with Garris Shrike who almost killed him but Jin and Zac saved him. After Jin left the order they got married. They tend to stay out of eachothers work lives because of differing values (yk like Jin being a pacifist). They had a daughter but Aaron’s job brought in some unwanted attention. Him and his wife were killed by inquisitors and their daughter was taken by Vader. 

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[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The Deal with Niffty; 1 Year Anniversary

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[Part 2 with Niffty, word count 1446, Cw: bug genocide none]

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You counted the days, double checking on the Scenic Hell calendar pinned up in the kitchen. You didn’t mention anything until that evening; Niffty was literally underfoot all day. “Tomorrow will be one year from when you made the deal with Niffty, cher.”

Alastor paused in his nightly routine, counting in his head. “I suppose it is. Ah, how the time flies.”

“We should do something, celebrate a little.”

Your husband gave you a questioning smile in the reflection of your vanity mirror. “We’ve never done that for any other Sinner.”

“We haven’t had any other Sinner chase you for weeks to make a deal,” you pointed out logically. “But she is yours, Alastor, it’s up to you.” He hummed noncommittally as two of you settled in for the night.

In the morning, you woke to a warm buttery smell and the hiss of a hot pan. Alastor, wearing a black apron, was making hotcakes and sausages. Niffty, still dressed in her nightgown and rubbing sleep from her eye, wandered into the kitchen. She spotted Alastor at the stove and immediately skittered up to him.

“Sir! I’m supposed to make breakfast!” She shot up to his shoulder and tugged on one antler.

Alastor, usually despising that much physical contact, merely shrugged and twirled his spatula as dramatically as his cane. “Well my dear, Y/N reminded me it’s been one year since we struck our deal. So I decided we’ll have some fun today.” He plucked the little cyclops of his shoulder and deposited her on the stool next to the table.

She scampered down and climbed back up his side to perch on his head. “Ooo, what kind of fun?” Her grin turned feral as she watched him flip hotcakes.

He finished cooking and delivered both food and the little maid to the table. “We’ll figure that out together.” The three of you started eating before he continued. “So my dear, what would you like to do today?” Alastor asked Niffty as he cut into his sausage.

Niffty, her cheeks full of hotcakes and syrup, froze. Her giant eye pinned as she stared at Alastor. A minute passed, then she gulped down her mouthful of food before automatically shoveling another forkful of hotcakes into her mouth. You realized she probably never really thought about it, enthusiastic as she was about her work.

You savored a bite. “How about…” you mused aloud, “we find more bugs than the bayou has?” Niffty’s attention snapped to you as she smiled around her bite of breakfast.

Fed and caffeinated, the three of you walked to your proposed destination. Niffty traveled three times the distance as she dashed around you and Alastor, occasionally climbing up one of you for a better view.

Your destination was a moderate two story building with two large glass enclosures connected. The sign above the entrance read Infernal Insectorium. Niffty’s eye widened as she started giggling on Alastor’s shoulder.

“Y/N, are you certain of this? Our dear Niffty is sure to decimate the population,” Alastor asked with amusement. “If you want to put this establishment out of business, this is an original way of doing so.”

“Not to worry, cher.” You pulled him inside, paying the entrance fee for the three of you. Niffty climbed down and started to run off, but you snagged her blouse before she could. “This place breeds quite a few critters for various purposes. So much so that they have a special wing for removing the substandard ones.” The foyer led to the two wings; one was labeled Observation Room, the other Culling Room. Through the glass walls to both you could see lush indoor gardens.

You led the way to the Culling Room. There was a small room between the foyer and the garden with a door leading to each. Only one could be open at a time, preventing any insect escapes. There was a member of the staff stationed in the room to operate the doors and ensure the bugs stayed where they were meant to be.

Once inside, you let Niffty go. “Eeeeheheheheheeeee!” she laughed, skittering off the path to chase down her first victim. Alastor walked arm in arm with you, admiring the garden.

“However did this place come about? And how did you find out about it my dear?”

Your talons brushed a flowering vine aside. “Evidently this was originally an insect house, supplying silkworms, beetles and snails for dyes, in addition to the indoor garden. But so many visitors kept eating the insects on display, they decided to add this room and charge for the privilege.”

Niffty’s giggles and mutters of “stab, stab, stab” were joined by other chuckles and squeals as demons hunted down their tiny prey. As you rounded a corner you saw a pair of frog-like demons at a wrought iron table catching flying insects with their tongues while making eyes at each other.

“Quite resourceful,” Alastor commented. He spotted an open bench for you both to relax on as Niffty had her fun. He hummed contentedly, soft jazz music filling the area around him. The tiny cyclops dashed into view on occasion, wielding either her favorite chef’s knife or a needle as she scurried after various bugs. She brought ones she was particularly proud of to pile up on the bench “for her collection.”

Whenever a creepy crawly got too close to you or your husband, it found itself impaled by one of your talons. Depending on the bug, you’d either eat it or add it it a separate pile for someone else to indulge in. Even Niffty had a limit to her energy and after a few hours she plopped herself between the two of you. She sifted through her spoils, selecting her favorite specimens. The rest were added to the pile you made.

After her selection was carefully wrapped in a handkerchief and stowed in your handbag, Alastor decided it was time for a late lunch. Food refilled her well of energy and afterwards Niffty was skipping around him again. “Now then, anything else we should do today Niffty, Y/N?”

“Oh oh, I need supplies to display my collection!” Niffty said eagerly, bouncing rapidly. “This way guys!” She ran back and forth between Alastor and the nearest crossroads. She repeated this after every turn until she brought you all to a craft store. The purple spider demon behind the counter recognized the cyclops. “Long time no see Niffty! Where you been sweets?”

“Hi Cici! I’m working for Alastor now. We’re celebrating my one year anniversary!”

“Greetings! The name’s Alastor and this is my darling Y/N. Pleasure to meet you my dear, quite a pleasure,” he said, holding out his hand to shake.

Cici either recognized your husband’s name or voice. She shook his hand carefully and asked Niffty in a shaky voice, “You…you’re working for the Radio Demon?” Niffty responded with a quick and cheerful “yup!” before dashing down an aisle.

“Yes indeedy! She was quite insistent about working for me. Even after my darling whisked her away multiple times! We found her to be extremely persistent.”

“She wore us down,” you added. “It’s been an excellent decision in the end.”

Cici looked a bit less nervous. “Well, she has always liked bad boys.”

Niffty returned with a stack of items; frames, cloth, pins, and boards. “More shadow boxes sweets?” Cici started tallying things up.

“Uh huh! They took me bug hunting today! I’ve got lots of new friends for my collection,” she replied, her voice turning into a cackle at the end.

Alastor paid for the items and stored the lot in his shadow. “I believe we’ve had quite an enjoyable outing today. What say we head back?”

“��Kay! Bye Cici, see ya later!” Niffty waved rapidly at her friend while bouncing out the door Alastor was holding for you both. You waved at the spider, saying “au revoir!” as you accepted Alastor’s arm.

Niffty continued to zip around the streets on the way home. But her energy started to flag again. A little over halfway, she started dozing off on Alastor’s shoulder. You scooped her up and placed her in your purse; you’d brought your largest in anticipation of this. Her bright red hair peeked out from the top of the bag.

“It has been a lovely diversion today, I must admit,” Alastor said as the sky began to darken.”

“Agreed. I have to say I’m glad Niffty was so persistent. She’s been an excellent addition to the household. And not just because she’s so willing to do housework.” Alastor didn’t reply, but the cheerful music that swelled as he hummed said enough.

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