#storm hawks race

[vschs]

"wtf are you doing, human"

[yami268]

Storm Hawks Characters as World of Warcraft Races and Classes

Disclaimer: I have tried to match them up to the best of my abilities with the playable races and classes WoW has so far. I also tried to keep them aligned with the Alliance/Horde faction with the Alliance being Sky Knights and Horde being Cyclonia. There are probably races and/or classes that would fit the characters better. That being said, this is just for fun and I hope you appreciate it.

Storm Hawks

Aerrow: Human Rogue Piper: Night Elf Mage Finn: Human (or Worgen) Hunter Junko: Draenai Monk Stork: Mechagnome Rogue Radarr: Hunter Pet

Cyclonians

Dark Ace: Undead Death Knight (Was once a warrior) Cyclonis: Undead Warlock Snipe: Orc Warrior Ravess: Blood Elf Hunter

Others

Starling: Human Rogue (or Monk) Repton: Drakthyr Evoker Carver: Blood Elf Death Knight (Was once a Paladin) Harrier: Human Paladin Suzi Lu: Worgen Mage Dove: Dwarf Rogue Lynn: Void Elf Monk Lightning Strike: Human Warrior

[irisarchborn]

Holy hell, I got this beauty done in one day woooo! now my arm and hand hurt XD worth it (4 hours of work). These two badass’s are Chieftain Lupin of the Leperi race (custom race by one my friends, Thanks Grace!) and his trusty and ‘terrifying’ Wyvern Da’gar, and they are for @far-side-skies monthly bird challenge

Race info (currently wip)

The Leperi (or Leperians) are a semi tribal people of anthropomorphic bunnies and/or hares known for their bond with the noble Wyvern and their skilled archery. They are agile and quick thinking but prefer to keep to themselves. Living peacefully in the mountains far away from everyone and everything, they rely on the natural resources the land provides. They live in mound shaped burrows in the snowy mountains. Appearance Females are smaller with droopy ears and fluffier neck and chest while the males of the species are larger, have erect ears and less fluff on their chest and more on there face, resembling facial hair.

[todayis-snowy]

made a little storm hawks sona for myself! I’d probably end up being a sky knight or crystal mage for the thrill of it lol

[not-the-dark-ace]

So who are you up against in the race?

It looks like the Absolute Zeros from Blizzaris, The Screaming Queens, Rebel Ducks, Buff Buzzards. A few others I think? I'd have to check the roster again. But it looked like some steep competition. I'm excited.

[jamminvroomvroom]

4k celebration

congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.

i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴

we made up.

LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration

in which you can never just bite your tongue

eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3

songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink

2.6k words

you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.

after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.

maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?

it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.

you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.

“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.

“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.

it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.

“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.

“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.

“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.

there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.

-

turns out, you have to apologise.

you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.

so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.

but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.

“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.

“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.

“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.

“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.

the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.

you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.

“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.

“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.

your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.

“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.

“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.

“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.

truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.

as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.

“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.

“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.

“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.

“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.

“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.

an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.

“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.

his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.

once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.

“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.

“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.

“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.

“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”

“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.

he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.

“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.

lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.

“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.

“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.

“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”

with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.

“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.

sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.

“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.

“learned your lesson?”

“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.

you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.

still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.

“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.

“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.

you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.

“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.

you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.

“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.

“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.

he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.

“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”

you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.

“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.

“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.

those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.

“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.

you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.

you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.

-

two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.

when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.

“we made up.”

-

oof

-

taglist

@mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen

if you wanna be added or removed lemme know! :D

[waitingonher]

percy dating a daughter of zeus?? jasons little sister maybe

percy jackson dating a daughter of zeus

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus!reader

content warning: nothing

word count: 721

author's note: guys...there's so many mosquitos rn i can't. anyways, sorry this one's a little short!! enjoyyy

okay a son of poseidon and a daughter of zeus dating??? such a power couple!! 

all of the new campers are terrified of you guys. they hear about all the quests you guys have been on and all the monsters you’ve defeated and they’re just so intimidated. the stoll brothers, being who they are, they like to make you and percy seem really scary. 

they’ll spew nonsense to the newcomers, telling them that if they look at you two the wrong way, you’ll zap them with lightning or percy will make their toilets explode. 

honestly, it’s super funny seeing how they become visibly nervous talking to you guys. but you and percy always make sure to act a little more friendly around them. 

you never fail to continually impress percy. your boyfriend absolutely loves seeing you use your powers and he lowkey thinks you look hot when you use them. (he will never outright admit it though) 

training dates are a must for you guys. it’s a great way to spend time together while also being productive. at this point, you and percy are so in sync with each other, you and him may as well be reading each other's minds. 

after a while, you and him have developed multiple fighting techniques that involve both of your powers. everyone knows not to mess with you guys. even the monsters know that you two are a dangerous pair. honestly, you and percy are basically celebrities down in tartarus. 

thalia and jason are so, so protective of you. they’re aware of how much percy loves you, but as your siblings, they just can’t help it. 

before dates, they always jokingly (for the most part) threaten percy to bring you back in one piece or else they’ll get zeus involved. he’s watching you like a hawk on that date. your boyfriend has had enough of zeus for one lifetime.  

for basically your entire relationship, you and percy have been in a prank war with each other. it initially started with just tiny things like a water balloon over the door or shaving cream in shoes. but now, it’s progressed into a big competition that almost everyone at camp is aware of. when they hear shouting by the zeus and poseidon cabins, they know not to worry because it’s one of you playing a prank on the other. 

you and percy keep track of who plays the best pranks on a white board. so far, you’re winning by two points! 

one of your best pranks to date was when you and nico actually convinced percy that his cabin was haunted. initially, he actually thought it was a prank. but as the prank progressed, your boyfriend thought it was way too real to just be fake. so then, he slowly became convinced that his place was haunted. the best part was when he came running out of his cabin into yours, screaming that there was an angry ghost coming to get him. 

you and nico had a good laugh that night. 

you guys always have some sort of bet or competition going on. one week you two would be competing for the fastest time on the climbing wall. next thing you know, percy’s betting that you can’t beat him in a pegasus race. 

at this point, everyone uses you two as a form of entertainment around camp. you guys are always up to something, so when it’s quiet around, your friends immediately become suspicious. it’s either a) the quiet before the storm, meaning that you guys are planning something or b) you guys are just simply in danger. 

it’s never a boring day when you and percy are around!

MATCHING JEWELRY!! 

one christmas, you two oddly had the same gift idea?? 

you bought him a lightning bolt charm to add onto his camp necklace. coincidentally, he just happened to get you an ocean wave charm for your necklace! 

it was such a cute moment when you two realized that you guys had the same idea. ever since then, you and percy have always been on the lookout for matching charms and jewelry. 

you guys are the it couple of camp. everyone can’t decide if they want to be you or if they want to be percy. ugh the struggles of being the best couple at chb…

[animemensblog]

Just a lil teaser, seeing if it's worth it to type out the full thing <3

Hawks x reader x Dabi ~ smut and angst

"That's an ugly color on you," Hawks kicks your foot to get your attention "isn't it?" He turns to Dabi, who's standing on the other side of you. "Yeah pretty gross" they laugh, you could feel their harsh gaze scanning your outfit and body.

This is getting old you think, at least they could be original and stop reusing insults. They'd be more interesting.

"You should just.. take it off" Dabi pokes at your side before trying to yank your shirt, but Hawks puts his hand to Dabi's chest. "What?" He asks him, making you look up at Hawks who has moved closer to you, just barely touching your shoulder.

His fiery friend gives me a weird look and Hawks hesitates, why would he stop someone else from bothering you? "I-I, um" his eyes find yours, he almost melts when he sees your big eyes staring up at him. "I just don't wanna know what she looks like under there" he jokes and pushes you away from him.

With that, the two leave you standing alone while laughing. Your mind is racing; he was so close, you could feel his heat radiate off of him and his cologne fill your nose. Oh when your eyes met- you almost died. That was until he made a jab at your body, which he's never done. You always thought your figure was nothing to laugh at, let alone be insecure of.

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

You were relaxing in your work's lobby while on break when a familiar voice called out to you, "Y/n?" Aizawa says plainly.

"Oh hey Shouta!" Hawks and Dabi see you reply with pure joy with a smile reaching ear to ear.

They both watch as the dark figure sits next to you, almost too close. Dabi looks over and sees his friend staring at you. His feathers were slightly standing up, his eyes widen and wouldn't look away or blink- kind of like if he were you'd disappear.

"Whats your deal?" Dabi asks

"W-what?" He says as he rapidly looks back between him and you.

"You're always talking or looking at her when you're in the same room" he quietly says, then chuckles.

Hawks cheeks turn red and his wings tense, "psh, I'm not obsessed with her or anything" he partially yells, causing it to echo to you and Aizawa. Immediately your attention goes to the loud bird that's literally squawking. "She's hideous and practically useless. I'm just bored, need good entertainment" he shakily pats Dabi on the back, trying to reassure him.

His flustered face turns back to you only to see how your head is hanging low and Aizawa is mumbling something to you. You shake your head and walk away. Hawks doesn't know why but he doesn't wait to ditch Dabi and run past Aizawa, chasing after you.

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

You make it to your apartment and as you close the door, a small knock comes from the sliding glass door on your balcony. Fortunately, it's locked so you get to watch Hawks try to yell through the window, weakly trying to pry open the door. You huff and walk to your room.

Then another tap, this time on your bedroom window. You could see his big, red wings flapping behind him as he waves at you. You storm over to him only to crack the window enough for his fingers to slip through.

He takes it as an invite, then you shut the window on his fingers.

"Motherfucker!" You hear him yell on the other side, when you look back he's cradling his hand.

You decide to leave him outside and take your much needed shower. Hawks, being determined as always, pries open the window and plops down on your living room couch, waiting for you to come back.

When you leave the bathroom, you wander around in your towel searching for your hair dryer you left in the living room.

As you make your way out you miss the wings peering over the couch, along with the person attached to them. You notice the dryer on the table and walk over, when you get in eyesight of him his heart does stop. He watches as water drips down your leg and how your towel can't cover your entire ass.

His wings flutter and his body goes tense. One of his wings flinch and quietly hits the couch, though it was loud enough for you to notice. "What the fuck?!" You yell as you run back to the bathroom. It takes a minute for him to come back to earth but when he does, he tries to explain himself.

"Wait, I- let me explain. I'm not some weirdo or anything" he yells trying to figure out which door you ran into. He tries the closet, the bedroom, your office, your plant room, he swears there's more doors than there should be.

"You sure because you definitely broke into my house" you mumble into your hands, this can't be happening.

"I mean, you left the window cracked. I thought it was an invite. Anyways I'm just here to apologize, that's all." He says quietly. He waits a minute before you walk out in a hoodie and sweats, even cute little socks. Your arms are crossed over your chest and you refuse to walk in front of him as you head back to the living room.

"You'll apologize then you'll leave, fucking perv." You spit at him, and his face goes red. He kinda likes this not-so-nice side of you, especially when you give nicknames like that.

"Well, you know earlier when you overheard me and Dabi?" You scoff. "Yeah, um, I'm sorry."

"That's it?"

"I mean yeah."

"Apology not accepted, now get out" you say pushing him towards the front door. "Wait you said I could apologize!"

"You did, and you're not forgiven. Now GET OUT you idiot."

He sighs and leans back, "say that again." You ignore his odd request and keep pushing, then he speaks up again. "Please?"

"Gladly, you're a fuckn idiot." He stops moving and turns around.

"I like that" he says nervously

"Congrats, please get out" you say weakly, his stare never fails to make you feel small.

"But I don't want to"

"Then I'll leave" you spit before walking around him and grabbing your keys and wallet.

"I don't want that either" he reaches for your wrist and pulls, "can you say it again?"

"No, stop being weird."

He smiles as he watches his thumb rub your hand, "it's not weird I like the names"

"Names?" You mumble, then you connect the dots "Oh."

He watches your face contort, "you fucking pervert!! You only came here for that?? Ugh." He stops you from leaving before you could try, pulling you to his chest. His nose almost touches yours and his hand snakes around your waist.

"Maybe I am a perv" he chuckles. You couldn't respond; being this close to him, even though he's trespassing and annoying you, makes you unbelievably nervous. "Instead of apologizing, can I try another way to make it up to you?"

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

Hawks gasps for air as he pulls away from your center, one of his hands gripping your thigh and the other holding your hips. "You taste amazing" he whispers before going back in, your hands pull on his hair and he slightly whimpers. "You're so pathetic" you say then he groans, sending vibrations into you.

He sees your fingers playing with your nipple and decides to experiment with his feathers. He sends one to where your hand is, it gently brushes against your skin and makes you gasp.

His tongue starts to slow down before pulling away, "can I?" He gestures to his pants, earning a weak nod from you. He takes off his belt and slips down his pants, revealing his thick cock that's throbbing hard. He leans forward and places a kiss to your chest, then one on your neck, and hesitates before kissing your lips.

His feather speeds up as your kiss gets deeper, letting him swallow any moan and whimper you let out. Hawks backs up and starts to line himself up with you, he adjusts your legs to fit his waist perfectly.

His tip brushes between your wet lips, "Keigo, fuck me." He nods, then he gets interrupted by the doorbell. Hawks groans loudly and leans forward, "who's that?"

You shrug and jump off the couch, slipping your pants on and made your way to the door, Hawks following you. The door swings open to reveal Dabi holding a few flowers with shaky hands.

"Hey" he softly says

"Hi Touya" you mumble, his first name? Hawks thinks to himself. So he pulls the door open wide enough to show Dabi he's here too. He didn't put any effort to hide his boner, or your juices still on his chin.

He chuckles, "I came here to apologize" he nudges the flowers into your hand before pushing inside.

Hawks speaks up, "sure, make yourself at home"

"Says you" both you and Dabi speak up, you spin around and make a face at him before heading to sit over by him. Your thigh brushes against Dabi and he doesn't wait to grip at it.

"You guys aren't together are you?" Hawks says, letting his head hang low.

"No" you laugh, "its kind of a system. For you, I guess" you look over at Dabi, trying to get him to explain.

"What she means is when you piss her off and she's crying herself to sleep, I come over and help her forget. Nothing more, nothing less". Dabi teases, "she still likes you regardless!" This earns him a harsh punch to his shoulder.

Hawks perks up at his comment, "then it won't be a big deal when I steal her from you". He sits next to you, putting his arm behind you.

"Not stealing when I'm willing to stop, after tonight of course" Dabi says while a nasty smirk appears.

They both look down at you like they're starving, then you realize exactly what they mean.

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

I honestly don't know what to think of this, but if you want me to finish the whole thing lmk :)

[autumnmobile12]

Storm Hawks: A Pretty Fun Take on Feminism

I don't know how many people actually remember this show, or even watched it , but this is an episode that's stuck with me all these years so I want to talk about it.

For context, the plot of Storm Hawks itself is pretty basic: Evil empire taking over the world, the good guys try to stop them, shenanigans ensue because kids' show. The main cast members fall into pretty generic archetypes. too. We have:

Aerrow (the 'true blue' leader)

Piper (the smart one/the girl)

Finn (the funny one)

Junko (the buddy)

Stork (the neurotic one)

Radarr (the animal sidekick)

And we're off:

This is Storm Hawks Season 1, Episode Ten: Fire and Ice

There was a lot going on in this episode, including a climate change allegory, but for the purposes of attempting to remain somewhat concise, I'm only going to cover the feminism theme for this post. Episode ten revolves mostly around Piper, opening with the team attending a festival put on by the Blizarrians, a race of snow-dwelling, humanoid, rabbit-dog creatures with Canadian accents and stereotypes in their world. (Which might be offensive, but the show was produced by a Canadian studio, so they can make fun of themselves if they want.)

The Blizzarian team (aptly named the Absolute Zeroes) invite the Storm Hawks to come snowmobiling with them in the backcountry. Piper is enthusiastic about the invitation, being a skilled cartographer, so she wants to map out the terrain...only to be told, "Ladies don't do the backcountry training. You just stay back with the girls."

Aerrow, being a true friend, tells Piper not to listen and she can ride with him, but since she's apparently not welcome by their hosts, Piper doesn't feel inclined to go anymore.

However, when Piper goes to meet up with 'the girls' and hang out, Suzy Lu (pictured above) unexpectedly introduces herself as the Absolute Zeroes' Sky Knight (essentially their captain.) So she's the one in charge, not the men, leaving Piper with the impression, Okay maybe being left out won't be so bad after all.

Later on in the episode, Aerrow does call out the male Zeroes, telling them she is part of their team and she has every right to be there with them. However, the Zeroes meet his words with genuine confusion, with the original member who told Piper to stay behind saying, "But Sky Knights don't do the backcountry training. That's just for us squaddies."

He thought Piper was the leader and therefore didn't need to be there. Similarly, because he was the male, Aerrow thought he was the Zeroes' leader, not Suzy Lu. It's still a sexist assumption to think Piper was in charge because she was a woman, but it's definitely a fresher take than the typical, "No, woman stay home because woman weak."

Going further into the comedy of the situation, though, is the fact the 'training' the Zeroes do in the backcountry pretty much amounts to them messing around on the snowmobiles and pulling off crazy stunts. They're just 'boys being boys.' If somebody wipes out on their ride, everyone else will be concerned up until the moment the fallen team member stands back up and starts cheering to show he's okay. It gives off a vibe that's similar to parents sending their kids outside to play when they're too hyper.

Further proving the point they are a bunch of well-intentioned dorks, it's also shown that Blizzarians don't assume all women are in charge. When Aerrow suggests a solution to the aforementioned climate issue that was also going on in the episode, Suzy Lu declares, "I like your thinking." And then, as an aside to Piper, whispers, "I was wondering why this one was in charge." So upon meeting the group, she definitely had a moment of, Okay, this Aerrow guy is the leader, not Piper. Kinda odd, but humans are wierd. Whattya gonna do?

...

Overall, the storytelling of Storm Hawks was a bit shallow, which doesn't often appeal to most adults, and that likely was a contributor as to why it didn't receive much attention outside its target audience. The world itself, Atmos, was an interesting concept; a world interspersed with mountain nations (terras) that rose up out of a hostile wasteland, so travel is achieved primarily by flight. This theme is seen throughout the series in the very culture as many of the characters are named after birds. (Junko (junco,) Stork, Piper (sandpiper,) Starling, Dove, Snipe, Wren, Finn (finch.) In addition to the flight, their machines were powered by these crystals that varied in type, purpose, categorization of how common or rare they were, so there was a scientific/magic element to it.

The writing was episodic in format, though, so the characters don't really have longterm goals and never really had development arcs that spanned much longer than a single episode. The conflict itself was effectively a world war, but unlike a series such as Avatar: The Last Airbender, Storm Hawks never achieved the level of seriousness or emotion that a war story demands to be compelling or really respectful of that particular theme in fiction. The characters of Storm Hawks and ATLA are fun and light-hearted, but the Storm Hawks episodes were really more goofy and child-like adventures. I mean, there is an episode where it is heavily implied the reptilian humanoids are carnivorous and eat people. Okay, fuck, that's hardcore disturbing, but the show doesn't really expand on that because it's a kids' show. Nonetheless, since it's there, you're kinda left with, Okay, either follow through with your darker themes or don't mention them at all. It's a cartoon, find a better balance than that.

There also wasn't much depth to the villains either and their motivations were really just chalked up to the standard, "We're evil." One of them was even former 'good guy' turned traitor ten years prior to the main plot, but his reasons for turning traitor were never explored or even revealed. Come on, people, what happened? Ambition? Greed? He saw the political structure of the side he fought for was fundamentally flawed and decided it was best to tear it all down?

...

However, the detail that I appreciate with this nostalgia series is the fact that there were female characters in positions of power in Storm Hawks. Most of the fighting battalions were mostly made up of men, sure, and I would have liked to see a more balanced male-female cast, but some of the teams were straight up led by a woman and there was at least one group that was exclusively women.

The main antagonist, the reigning monarch of the aggressive nation in the war, was also a woman. (Well, teenage girl, but you get the point.) What's more; she was 100% in charge. She was not influenced in any way by a male advisor, she wasn't spurred on by the memory of a male predecessor, she was never intimidated by her male generals. And she was intelligent. Throughout the series, she was a scientist, an engineer, and a fighter. (Unfortunately, in the last season, her mind started to go a bit, so she pretty much devolved into a knockoff Azula.) We even have the brief insight of her background where it's shown she inherited her throne from her grandmother, not another male ruler. Which either implies primogeniture inheritance regardless of gender or it's a matrilineal monarchy, which is interesting to speculate, but that would be headcanon territory.

...

It was a fun watch when I was a kid, but as an adult...yeah, lots of flaws, a great deal of loss in potential with world-building and storylines, and even as a kid, I knew the plots and humor of later episodes fell into a category that was more stupid than funny.

But if Storm Hawks had one strength, they had the groundwork of the feminism angle down pat and that is always appreciated.

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 18

~ Aelin and Hawk Rowan ~

Just something silly and sweet for our beloved otp

~~~~~

The world passed by in a blur, Kasida’s stride eating up distance over the grassy plain. Each hoof beat resounded through Aelin’s body, the fast paced rhythm creating a symphony that only added to the thrill of the ride. Aelin trusted her steed completely, knowing she had the care for both their safety and avoiding unsteady ground. And they were not alone.  

Rowan swooped, his wing brushing her cheek. As much as she loved the gesture, it was distracting, and Aelin almost missed the turn onto the forest path. Bastard, he was trying to distract her. Kasida slowed just a little, her sure footing not faltering as the path was swarmed with vegetation. Aelin assumed Rowan flew above the trees to avoid entanglement in the branches. Their little race was almost over and she hoped she could rely on the thick, overlapping boughs to help her win. 

An obligation free morning had presented itself and tired of courtly nonsense stealing her away from him, Rowan had insisted they flee the palace. And he always complained about her affinity for dramatics when at times he was equally so. He had told her to dress for riding and meet him at the stables while he would sort out the rest. 

Aelin had taken the time to brush and saddle Kasida herself, basking in the simple and ordinary task. Sometimes it was nice to pretend that she didn’t have the weight of an entire kingdom on her shoulders. It had barely been a year since the war had ended, her country was still rebuilding and there was so much to do. Still, she needed to take time for herself or she might go insane. Aelin had Kasida fully tacked when Rowan appeared, a pack on his shoulder and a wide grin on his face. Then he’d told her to meet him by the stream and shifted. 

To get out of the city Aelin had used a small gate built into the outer wall, only for secret royal usage. Rowan had circled above her while she warmed up her steed, the mare impatient to run. When she was ready, Aelin turned Kasida to follow the edge of the Oakwald. And then they were off, Rowan’s screech of approval echoing. He understood her intention, this would be a race.

He gave another such call now, letting Aelin know he was still wth her. She was almost at the stream. With the thick foliage overhead she might just win. It would be hard for him to find a way through without risk to himself. Her fae senses picked up the sound of the stream, the scent of the damp soil. A few more moments and she’d be there. The trees parted, the stream was in view, and then there was a bright flash of light that had the over excited horse shying in surprise. Rowan stood there, leaning against a tree like he hadn’t a care in the world. 

“I win,” he had the gall to say. 

Aelin was nearly panting as she dismounted. Flames simmered at her fingers, the thrill of the ride and the indignation over what her mate had said only adding to the fire. 

“I was here first,” she protested.

Rowan just smirked at her. “I would say otherwise.”

“Of course you would.”

“Because I won,” Rowan reiterated. 

Aelin groaned in frustration, quickly tending to Kasida so she could graze but not wonder off. Then she was storming over to her husband, embers flying in her wake. 

“You cheated,” she accused. “You tried to distract me.”

Rowan dropped the pack to the grassy floor, standing a little straighter, no longer using the tree to take his ease. “I did no such thing.”

This time Aelin growled at him, baring her pointed canines. Rowan just continued to smirk at her. The insufferable, cheating bastard.

“Fireheart, it was only a little race.” All his words did was antagonise her further.

“It’s never just a little race.”

Rowan chuckled softly. “My apologies, milady. I must have forgotten how competitive you are.”

Aelin was right in front of him now, nearly chest to chest. “Memory problems tend to persist in old age.”

Before Aelin could even think of a new argument, Rowan had reached for her shoulders, and spun them so that her back was against the tree. His body crowded around hers, but Aelin was not ready to give in. She just kept looking up at him, defiance all over her face. 

Her mate ignored every ounce of malice she was sending his way, and lent in closer.  “Are you going to waste our alone time talking?”

There was a hand on her waist, and Aelin couldn’t help but arch into the touch. As it rose higher her breathing quickened at it had nothing to do with the exertion from the ride. Rowan moved closer, his nose brushing against Aelin’s in a teasing gesture. She was about to demand he do something more when he finally kissed her. She surrendered to it, loving the privilege of having Rowan so close. They saw each other every day, but finding time to truly be with each other was hard to find some days. 

She couldn’t help herself though, that fire of mischief still burned. Aelin broke the kiss, taking joy in the annoyance that entered Rowan’s green eyes. “And another thing—“

It seemed Rowan had had enough of her antics because he tugged her against him for another kiss, smothering her laughter. They stayed like that until they were both breathless and the only reason they broke apart was to catch it. Rowan’s hands weren’t idle though, they worked on untucking her shirt from her pants, touching the bare skin on her waist. That let Rowan recover and his breathing evened out, but with each insistent sweep across Aelin’s body her breath was hitching. Especially when those hands moved higher.

“Once upon a time I promised the first time I would take you wouldn’t be against a tree,” Rowan murmured onto the skin of her neck. Then he pulled back, watching Aelin’s face as he pressed into her firmer, so she could feel every hard line of his body. “It’s not the first time, is it?”

Aelin shook her head furiously, anticipation getting the better of her. They kept eye contact as she looped her arms around her neck and Rowan's hands slid down to her thighs. Cheating or not, Rowan had a point. She could argue this again later when they had more time. 

Aelin arched into him, inviting him to take more. “I’m waiting, buzzard.”

Rowan laughed and kissed her again, and this time they didn’t stop until they had both unraveled completely.  

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this little bit of canon silliness

@rowaelinscourt

[vschs]

tee hee

[fairygodpiggy]

Basics

Name: Eyri Styrbraena (translated to "Wandering Starbreaker")

It isn't her true name, of course - rather, the name is a curse of sorts that she's embraced.

Her true name, still unknown to anyone (aside from family) canonically, is Maetianka Thosinbharwyn (Mighty Anchor, daughter of Grey Bear).

Nicknames: Starbreaker, Big Lady, Large Mom

Age: 30 as of ARR (maybe around 36-ish by the start of DT? Give us a solid timeline, P L E A S E )

Nameday: In game, she shares my birthday, but canonically it is the 19th Sun of the Second Astral Moon (March 19, one of the three potential dates for the Spring Equinox / first day of Spring).

Race: Roegadyn, Sea Wolf

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Orientation: Pansexual / Panromantic

Profession: Not counting WoL adventures - former pirate, former bouncer. She currently holds the position of Judge Magister in the Free Company, Knights of the Round. Eyri stands as one of three of the Lord Commander's most trusted knights.

Physical Aspects

Hair: Snowy white, though as it gets longer, the ends begin to darken to a dark grey - a couple of steps above black. She keeps it fairly short so it doesn't get in the way. She has bangs to hide a scar above her right eye.

Eyes: At birth, lavender.

From ages 14-35, her left eye became a dark purple like umbral aether, and her right eye became blinded and pale blue like astral aether. The color change and blindness was due to an aetherial imbalance that came about when Hydaelyn resurrected her from the lifestream after a fatal accident.

(real talk, when I first made Eyri, I had no knowledge or context of Hydaelyn or Zodiark's colorations, nor of the fact that astral aether = stasis, so it really was a happy accident that I was able to fit into lore)

This aetherial imbalance was eventually fixed and her eyecolor returned to lavender once more. The blindness in her right eye remains - it can sense light, but that's about it.

Skin: Deep, slate grey. She also always wears some form of black lip stain.

Tattoos/scars: She has full sleeves on both arms, then one on her right...flank.

She has battle scars all over her body - primarily some claw marks that wrap from her left collarbone to her shoulder blade, earned from fighting a particularly nasty coeurl encounter; 3 jagged gashes across her torso and 3 across her left calf that were all caused by a large, mace-wielding minotaur; a scar that wraps around her right ankle and heel, that very narrowly missed her Achilles, inflicted by her sister's blade.

The primary scar that she's had the longest, and keeps hidden beneath her hair, is the scar above her right eye. This is from a fatal fall that radically shifted her fate. She sometimes views it as a curse and is ashamed of it.

Family

Parents: Father - Thosinbhar Wyzniyrnsyn (Grey Bear, son of White Iron, goes by Thosin for short)

Mother - Wiltrael Berkarenawyn (Wild Doe, daughter of Mountain Harvester, goes by Wilt for short)

Siblings: Sister - Rymmwaen Thosinbharwyn (Frost Wind, daughter of Grey Bear, goes by Rymm for short)

Grandparents: More Roegadyn names LET'S GOOO

Paternal Grandfather - Wyzniyrn Fyrilspaersyn (White Iron, son of Lost Sparrow)

Paternal Grandmother - Fyrfyst Syhrstralwyn (Fire Fist, daughter of Fearless Arrow)

Maternal Grandfather - Berkarena Pfarstyrmsyn (Mountain Harvester, son of Walking Storm)

Maternal Grandmother - Wytageim Hywabfrynwyn (Water Jewel, daughter of Hawk Friend)

In-laws and Other: EVEN MORE NAMES (help)

Brother-in-Law - Ronthnfarr Abylntyrbsyn (Running Bull, son of Raging Cyclone... Literally just goes by Ron for short LMAO)

Nephew - Doennahr Ronthnfarrsyn (Thundering Eagle, son of Running Bull, goes by Doen for short)

Pets: Her chocobo and trusted companion, Fernando.

She didn't keep any other pets until recently. There's a small crab that started following her around, and so she started caring for it. Then she gave it a knife to hold in its claw because she thought it was funny.

Skills

Abilities: For the majority of her life, she had aethersight, and could see the auras of people's souls. It was an ability that she could not turn off or will away, and it came at a heavy cost: severe aether sickness. This manifested as agonizing and debilitating migraines centered at her blind eye. She avoided magic and crowds as best as she could, and she was able to teleport in case of an emergency, but she would be out of commission for several days afterward.

While this ability was seen as useful to her allies, she viewed it as a curse and began advocating for her own well-being.

Hobbies: Eyri enjoys sketching, usually maps of various cities or towns, as well as learning new things in general. Whether it's studying new languages or learning the customs of different cultures.

Traits

Most Positive Trait: Being selflessly protective

Most Negative Trait: Being wrecklessly protective

Likes

Colors: Black, purple, green, red

Smells: Coffee, forests and mountain air, campfires, fresh tobacco, wildflowers

Textures: Thick wool fabrics

Drinks: Coffee, any kind of alcohol, and any drinks that are warm and comforting

Other Details

Smokes: Occasionally tobacco, and rarely pipeweed - she did not start partaking in pipeweed until after her aether became rebalanced because it would exacerbate the effects of her uncontrollable aethersight. She most commonly smoked cigarettes while working at The Wet Whisker (a speakeasy masked as a flower shop) as a bouncer, or when she was highly stressed. Now she does it much less frequently, and usually for fun.

Drinks: If alcoholic, she will always ask for the strongest drink on the menu and she has a very high tolerance - she used to commonly drink this way to dull the effects of her uncontrollable aethersight.

Drugs: She has never used anything stronger than liquor or pipeweed...unless Yorick Lecannon's beverage, The Olympus, counts as hard drugs...a signed waiver is required, and so far it's the only concoction that has knocked Eyri out cold in seconds...

Mount Issuance: She was issued a chocobo liscense after providing several years of work for the Maelstrom and Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn and becoming a trusted individual in her eyes. In recognition for her deeds to Limsa Lominsa and its Grand Company, Merlwyb personally offered Eyri a position within their ranks. She lovingly named her chocobo Fernando.

While working at The Wet Whisker, she found herself in possession of a motorcycle that she uses to traverse the main continent. How she came to be in possession of such magitek is a question that aught not be asked.

Been Arrested: ......There do not appear to be any records detailing any arrest history......

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

That's about it, folks!

Feel free to do one of these if you want, even if you haven't been tagged <3

[irisarchborn]

Newest Creation and boy do i love him! X3 This in for @far-side-skies bird of the month art challenge.

Name: Shang Akagiyama Race: Kitaran (fan made race by me X3) Title: Crowned Prince Role: Skyknight  Terra: Terra Kitsune Age: 17  Height: 6.8″in Favorite Snack: Oranges and fried tofu Weapons: Twin Katana’s with Jade handles

The Kiaran Race is still a work in progress as i’m trying to not make them too OP but they are a closed race currently.

Race info ~ Their Kitsune inspired as well as ancient Chinese/Japanese based for the setting of their home terra, they are begins of the far side and rarely leave their home terra, as they don’t trust outsiders at all. A Special trait they’re known for (for the few who get to earn their trust enough) they can shapeshift into almost any living thing, and they actually grow more tails over the course of their lives. Lifespan ~ The Kitaran are have quite the longevity and are recorded to live up to nearly a thousand years, before entering the cloud kingdom; their version of heaven. that’s all for now, if i ever get inspired enough I’ll do a Comic on Shange, his terra and the exploration of the far side.

[pastafossa]

Preview of Angsty In-Progress TRT What If fic

Right so there won't be a chapter cause I'm still in Covid Brain Fog Town, Population: Me which is affecting my writing (I've gotten a bit written but it's slow going). But I have found time to edit that sad thing I'd been working on BEFORE getting sick and I'm planning to release that because I think it works as a really good illustration of just what the stakes are in TRT if they get this wrong. AKA: a what-if, in which all their preparations fail and Jane is taken (spawned by an ask in my box that's been chewing at my brain for months now).

This will be a really dark and angsty side-fic, and the ending won't be happy per se, although I'm planning to give a little hope at the end since I'm not a COMPLETE monster, but I don't expect everyone to read it regardless and am designing it so there's no need to if you'd prefer to stick to TRT canon. BUT if you DO want to read something like this, here's a preview of the first section.

Warnings for: angst (obviously), blood, reference to shock collars.

Preview wordcount: around 1k

Putting this behind a cut.

Sad Matt gif cause this part's from his POV and it will not be fun.

There should have been a fight. 

That had always been the plan, an unspoken agreement the moment you’d decided to stay. You’d all known the Man in the White Coat, Cyrus James, would come to town eventually. It was an inevitability, a reality, and it was one you’d prepared for. Slowly, you’d gathered in your allies, armor composed of S.H.I.E.L.D., of the Ferryman, of the Punisher and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and even Spider-Man, had you asked. There’d been plans and backup plans, alarm systems and fail safes. And just in case that still wasn’t enough, you and Matt had taken to practicing, over and over and over again, all the ways you could signal him should your hunter slip through the cracks. 

It was foolproof. 

It should have been foolproof. That was what you’d all believed. 

You were all wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. 

There was no battle. 

It’s my fault. 

No war along the familiar streets that had become your home. 

I should have sensed him. 

There’d been no signal given. No warning, no alarm that rang out, not when you were walking home after a late case. 

Caught alone in the dark.

Where are you, sweetheart? Please, just give me something, anything—

You didn’t even have time to scream, they said.

Not physically, anyway.

He’d felt your fear before on occasion, when you reached for him psychically. Then, your presence felt like the frantic bite of your nails in his skin, tasted like the sharp tang of cold sweat and burning adrenaline, sounded like the stuttered racing of your heart, a drumbeat in his ears that never failed to set his own heart racing as he cast his senses out, hunting for threat-threat-threat and for those that dared to harm you. He’d felt your fear when you woke in the quiet dark of the apartment, and when you’d been trapped beneath the warehouse in a cruel, dusty cell. He’d felt it, too, that night Frank had chased after you. 

He thought he’d known the flavor of your fear. 

But those moments were nothing compared to the moment your deepest, darkest fear became… real. 

The deafening psychic scream that tore through the thread with all the force of a hurricane was like nothing he’d felt before, or ever would again. That storm was all-consuming, the world around him gone in a heartbeat as the sudden wave brought him to his knees, his mouth shocked open on a silent shout. He could barely breathe through that terrified tide, one cold as bitter ice, your panicked heartbeat less a drumbeat than a constant roar in his ears as your panic rolled through him. This was the tremor of muscle and blind, animalistic instinct, the last, desperate sprint of a doomed hare just before the hawk’s talons cinched shut against the back of its neck.

This wasn’t fear. That was too small a word.

It was sheer, absolute terror. 

And in that terror, you managed only a single word. 

“Matt, h—”

You never got a chance to finish. Instead, he was struck by a blinding surge of electricity, white-hot coils of lightning snaking around his throat before locking tight. That shock raced outwards from there, traveling along lines of hidden nerves and thick muscle until his whole body locked up in agony. It was impossible to writhe, to thrash, to fight. All he could do was scream, mindless and furious, your terror matched only by his surge of rage, rage that covered his own wave of terror. Because he knew. He knew, distantly, what this was, and what this meant. 

The collar. 

Just as quickly as it came, the connection was gone, leaving him with nothing but the steady drip of blood from his nose and a ringing in his ears.

He wanted to retch, his stomach roiling, but there was no time. 

It can’t end like this. 

The directional signal he’d gotten from you was worthless. Even when he found where you’d been snatched off the street, they’d left him nothing but droplets of your blood and a fading snatch of cigarette smoke, a poor cover for the faint chemical scent lingering in the alley. Tranquilizers, he’d learn later, meant to knock you out, make you tame enough to be bound, collared, and forced into the back of a van. From there, your scent vanished into the night. 

Caught. Collared. 

Taken.

There was supposed to be more time. 

More time for him in your arms and you in his. 

More quiet touches in the early morning, and laughter in the kitchen, at Fogwell’s, on warm rooftops and cold ones, too. 

Time for him to slip a ring on your finger, and for his name to twine with yours, joyful tears in both your eyes as he pressed his lips to yours on the day you finally became his wife, the keeper of his soul, and he the keeper of yours, for all the rest of your days.

Why hadn’t he asked you?

He should have asked you.

Our rocking chairs should be red, you’d said sleepily last night, when we’re old. 

He should have been faster. 

Stronger. 

Smarter.

“All this, all this that we have here, that you love, is at risk. It always is when I stop. He takes this from me every time, Matt."

He should have protected you. 

He’d promised you he’d keep you safe. 

“No one will take you. I won’t let them, no matter what I have to do to stop them. What happened before—you didn’t have me. I’ll hear him coming from a mile away. We’ll be prepared for him."

“Ciro promised me the same thing. And he was wrong.”

He’d… promised. 

“I promise. I’ll find them before they even get close.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, D.”

And he’d failed.

The Devil’s roar of anguish, of grief, and of absolute agony shook the very bones of the city. 

By that point, you were too far away to hear it. 

It would be seven months before he found you again.

[not-the-dark-ace]

Good luck with the race! Careful who you buy spare parts from

Ha! Thanks!

I have been told by Stork that we will not be buying any spare parts. He will make anything if we need it.

Paranoia and all that you know?

[ashe-alter]

The Dark Ace is Lightning Strike part III

Okay, I had a completely different part 3 planned, but I'm still working on it, so that's gonna be pushed to a part four.

Part 3 is now about the episode Velocity (my favorite episode)

There's a few details we learn in this episode that I realized help with this theory. It seems to be the episode that spawned the very common headcannon that Dark Ace is a racer and was the racer for the old team.

We're told that the old storm hawks always won the great race, but that it hasn't been run in ten years.

Now, here's the little hiccup.

The great race is for the skyknights.

There's several suggestions throughout the series that there can and are multiple skyknights for certain squadrons. So that explains why Burner, who is assumed to be the skyknight for the third-degree burners, isn't racing, but the other guy with the weird voice is. They could be co-skyknights for Saharr.

That would mean though that if Dark Ace was the co-pilot, then he would not have been in the race.

We see in his confidence and familiarity with both the course and the races rules that he has run it before.

"I thought you were all supposed to be good." Is not a taunt someone throws out on a race course they're not familiar with. No matter how skilled the racer.

He was hoping for at least a challenge. It's the first time he's raced in ten years.

He would have had to be the skyknight. He is Lightning Strike.

Link to part two