#fallen aces goon

[acidhydra101]

watching @wayneradiotv 's lethal company stream and had to draw this during the goon incident

inspired by the Goon from Fallen Aces

[10-30-pm]

The (early) Christmas present I made for Gianni :3

[acidhydra101]

on it, boss

[utterfuckingchaos]

Idea: Multiple of Gianni's characters living together.

The leader of the house? Torn between Gabriel from Ultrakill, and Sebastian. Gabriel is the strongest, but I feel like...somehow, Sebastian has better experience leading, and more experience in general.

Of course there would be Vertex from Anthro Heat, Unnamed Goon from Fallen Aces, Duke Nukem, Cynte from Endoparasitic, and the last one I will note for now, and Senator Armstrong from Max0r's covering of Metal Gear Rising Revengeance.

An example of some dialogue? Gonna try and be in character, but I may fuck up, so please, send any hate or constructive criticism for OOC in the form of a Haiku

Gabriel: This is the last time, I REFUSE to pick up more of your disgusting trash, Machine! Vertex: S-Sorry sir- Unnamed Goon: Aw c'mon pal, you ain't gotta take that kinda shit from him! Gabriel: Quiet you! As the righteous hand of the father, it is up to ME to make sure this house remains clean! *Vertex's casing turns a darker blue, and he starts to shuffle away, embarrassed and a bit upset, when Unnamed Goon grabs him by the arm.* Unnamed Goon: Listen kid, all you gotta do is tell him to fuck off! He ain't ya daddy, and he sure as hell ain't leada of this joint! Vertex: Y-Yeah! Mr. Gabriel, I have delt with your...your unreasonable hatred over me! I'm not this V1 guy you keep talking about...and this trash isn't even mine! It's Duke's! I throw away my stuff...we just share...common interests in drinks is all! Unnamed Goon: There ya go, that's my bo- Gabriel, +ENRAGED: ENOUGH! I WILL NOT BE TALKED DOWN TO BY A MEAR MACHINE, AND SOME LOWLY MORTAL! *In the other room, Sebastian and Cynte are playing chess, and "The Death of God's Will" starts blaring from the other room.* Sebastian: *Sigh*, there they go again... Cynte: I'm honestly surprised they hadn't fought earlier. Gabriel may put a dent or two into Vertex, but they'll live. Sebastian: I'd rather they not fight at all, Cynte. Cynte: Yes, and I would've liked to not have three of my four limbs torn off, but it seems like both events were inevitable, thanks to the paths we had chosen. *Sebastian glares at Cynte, who doesn't bother looking Sebastian in the eyes, and moves his chess piece.* Cynte: Checkmate.

Should I do more with this? Also, apparently Gianni played A mothman in Cryptid Crush, but not Atlas. Does any fan of Cryptid Crush know about this random mothman character?

[superman86to99]

Action Comics #701 (July 1994)

"THE FALL OF METROPOLIS," Finale! The final (for now) battle between Superman and Lex Luthor! Wait, isn't Luthor practically a vegetable now? Is this just 22 pages of Superman beating up a cripple? No, it's actually a fair fight because Lex is back to his old Pre-Crisis habit of wearing purple robot armors (I guess they're traditionally more green than purple, but still).

As seen last issue, Lex's paralyzed body is being taken to S.T.A.R. Labs in an ambulance so they can administer the cure to the Clone Plague that left him in this state, but he's got other priorities: mainly, punching Superman. Following Lex's programming, a Kryptonian Battle Suit (the same one that Superman just sorta left laying around in Metropolis during "Reign of the Supermen") comes to retrieve him, trashing that poor ambulance in the process.

Now able to see and hear again thanks to the armor's sensors, Lex witnesses the destruction in Metropolis for the first time and is like "I can't believe I accidentally destroyed the city I love... anyway, let's destroy it some more!" More specifically, he wants to destroy the statue of Superman that stands atop what was once his tomb.

Superman comes to stop Lex from causing even more property damage (and prevent him from showing what's inside the tomb and spoiling a storyline that isn't supposed to start yet...). Superman evades the armor's punches and missiles, but Lex is able to club him with the statue itself -- which you already saw on the cover, but I'm showing it to you again because it's such a cool image.

Lex tries stepping on Superman and burning him with ignited rocket fuel (so hot that it turns the armor's hand into a stump), but Superman is Superman, so he ends up ripping the suit open, taking Luthor out... and flying him to S.T.A.R. so they can give him the cure. Because, again, he's Superman. But, unlike Superboy and other Clone Plague victims, Lex doesn't simply go back to normal after getting the cure: he's still paralyzed, probably because his clone body was "grown more quickly" than the others (he should sue that Dabney Donovan fellow for his shoddy rush job).

Of course, Lex blames Superman for the results of his own dumbass choices and swears that one day he'll make him pay...

...but, for now, he better get comfy in that bed, because he's gonna be there for a good while. THE END!

Plotline-Watch:

That closes the actual "Fall of Metropolis" storyline, but Metropolis will remain fallen for a little while longer.

This is also the end of the Clone Plague storyline, since Lex was the last surviving clone to get the cure. If you're wondering what happened to the Underworlders: at S.T.A.R., Dr. Kitty Faulkner says they all "seem to have perished." Damn, even the babies? That's brutal. Considering they never appeared again except in flashbacks, Kitty is probably right, but I prefer to believe they simply retreated even deeper underground and never had to deal with the surface world's bullshit ever again.

Lex wearing a green/purple armor finally fulfills the tease seen on the first page of 1986's The Man of Steel #5, when we're made to think a random goon in a proto-Lex-Men suit is Lex. Then we see businessman Lex himself and it's like "Ha! You thought this Lex Luthor would ever be caught dead inside something so corny? Dream on, nerds!"

This issue is written by Karl Kesel (plot) and Louise Simonson (dialogue) since Roger Stern left in Action #700 and the new guy hasn't arrived yet. Speaking of Stern, that blurb at the end saying that hopefully both he and Lex will return one day is exactly what's gonna happen, but it won't be in Action or any of the existing Super-Titles...

Shout Outs-Watch:

Awesome Kryptonian Battle Robot-sized shout outs to our supporters, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, and Dave Shevlin! Join them (and get extra articles) via Patreon or our newsletter’s “pay what you want” mode!

And now, keep reading for the great Don Sparrow's take on this issue, Roger Stern's run in general, and what does Clone Lex have between his legs...?

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start with the cover, and it’s appropriate for a title like Action—Superman’s Kryptonian warsuit duking it out with the Man of Steel at his own memorial.  Great sense of motion from the rubble flying off, without motion lines, which is a real feat.  It also reveals that the Superman statue in Metropolis Memorial Park is in fact stone or concrete.  This whole time I was imagining it was bronze (we don’t have many stone sculptures in my neck of the woods in Northern Canada, as they tend to crack with the wild temperature differentials). 

Inside we’re treated to back to back splash pages to open the story, both with a great look at the rogue warsuit in action.  The image of the suit plucking a stark naked Lex Luthor is a pretty memorable one. And if you’re a fan of nude Lex, this issue doesn’t disappoint.  I hesitate to even mention such a thing, but is this is the first canonical appearance of Luthor’s pubic hair? Moving on…

[Max: I always took that as a shadow. That panel did make me wonder if Lex's clone body had everything, or if perhaps he asked Dabney Donovan to forget certain parts and just focus on making sure his pecs and abs remain rock hard even if a plague turns him into an old person.]

The image of Superman flying in to combat the Lex-driven warsuit is an all-timer, and would have made a great sticker.

The battle in this issue is reminiscent of the "Doomsday" storyline, in that we’re treated to super-sized panels, with only one or two images per page.  This is a treat, as the artwork really gets to breathe, but it has the unfortunate effect of making the issue a pretty quick read, as there’s a lot less text than in a normal issue. It also makes my job of picking the standout panels a little harder, as they’re all pretty stunning throughout the book.  The image of a raging Superman, having just thrown some missiles back at Lex is a good one, and very en vogue in this era, the peak of Image Comics grim & gritty style.  The image of the warsuit brought to one knee was another standout, as I really appreciate the difference in textures, the sold lugubrious brushline on the warsuit denoting its shininess, against the greasepencil looking streaks in the sky illustrating tendrils of smoke.

We get another intense Superman image on page 19, where Superman marches out of the flame undaunted (visually recalling the utterly badass house ad for the Super titles in 1990).  One of the final images we see is Superman carrying the limp, near-dead body of Luthor into flight.  Again, I think decency dictated this pose—surely carrying him in both arms, pieta style would have been safer for the passenger, but then we’d get an eyeful. Is there a reason Lex couldn’t just be wearing underwear throughout? [Max: Lex hates Superman so much that he refuses to wear undies on the inside OR the outside.]

SPEEDING BULLETS:

Well, at least Superman also acknowledged that leaving the warsuit on the docks was stupid.

This issue seems to reveal that Kryptonian metal isn’t all that much more durable than regular metal, as Superman shatters the leg of the warsuit pretty easily.  In the silver age, it was unscientifically explained that Kryptonian metal was also super-charged by Earth’s yellow sun and lessened gravity, making it way stronger than conventional metal. 

It’s a rare thing that a cover image comes to pass but we really do see Lex knocking Superman through his own memorial in a great splash on pages 10-11.

For such a knock-down drag out fight, taking the suit apart seems pretty easily for Superman on page 20—the very next panel, Lex is out of the suit, and in Superman’s arms.

A side by side comparison reveals that they really did redraw Lex on the last panel, despite similarities to how he is shown on page 12.

We are left with a small farewell caption to the great Roger Stern, with a hint that he—and Lex—could return to the super-books in the future.  “When we least expect it” would prove to be a little over a year later, but we’ll drive off that bridge when we come to it.  Perhaps because he’s not a writer/artist like John Byrne, Dan Jurgens or Jerry Ordway, it took a little while for me to recognize Stern’s greatness on these books.  But his Action Comics title consistently had some of the very best characterization and consistency in all these stories.  So many of my favourite moments (Lois finding out Superman’s secret identity, Batman getting Luthor’s Kryptonite ring, the return of Amanda McCoy, the introduction of Maxima) were all Stern scripts, and that’s saying something.  While in retrospect, I don’t love Supergirl being a protoplasmic synthetic entity, or Lex Jr. being a secret Aussie clone of Lex Sr. (storylines that mainly featured in Action) those were interesting options for their time, and certainly don’t stand in the way of Stern being among the all-time greats when it comes to Superman writers.  And, from my own weird personal point of view, much of the spiritual stuff I’ve collected over the years in our now-famous Godwatch feature has come from Stern.  So, God bless you, Roger Stern!

In an interesting sidenote that has no better place than here to mention—were you aware that in the Law and Order franchise, there have been dozens of characters with the last name Stern, which originated as a shout-out to Roger Stern from fellow comics writer turned Law and Order writer Gerry Conway (creator of no less than Firestorm, Power Girl and Killer Croc)?  There’s even a particularly creepy episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent where a perp has that exact name.  Conway also frequently used Hudson University in his episodes, which comics fans know is the alma mater of one Dick Grayson—which essentially means Law and Order is set in the DC Universe.  Cha-chunk! [Max: Wait, does that mean all of the DC Universe takes place inside some kid's snow globe?]

[mrcaputo]

Got fun to revive the Crash Bandicoot Noire skin set and by big request, have Crunch Bandicoot as "The Goon". Also big inspiration from Fallen Aces with the goons you find around the streets.

[canguy21]

beating the first level of fallen aces without killing or knocking out a single goon

[spingl]

Y'all should consider getting fallen aces

Why did I buy it? To put it simply in the words of the goons themselves

"Man I love hurting people" and you could do it in so many ways, eating a banana will leave banana peels which are slippery and you can take down enemies with it and so are gumballs

Consider getting fallen aces

Made by new blood who also made Ultrakill, faith the unholy and Dusk

[spermproducingparasiteblog]

A DEATH BY GOONING - FALLEN ACES #1

[ambigrueity]

More Trouble Than They're Worth

Chapter 4- Ace: Don't Get Caught

It wasn’t particularly odd to hear his name in the hallways. He was the second prince of the Sunset Savanna. He was used to being talked about. At home— if he could even call it home— it was whispers of his powers. Whispers of his unfortunate birth. Here it was just complaints about his laziness and the odd compliment of his Spelldrive plays. He much preferred the whispers here. 

No, the odd thing was not that his name was being uttered. It was who it was being uttered by. 

“Leona-senpai asked me to get this for him.” His voice drifted around the corner and Leona knew instantly who it was.

Leona would be hard-pressed to ask Ace Trappola to get him anything. The boy was a pain in the ass. He had a good amount of cunning, just not enough forethought to see it through. And enough stupidity to insult him to his face. He’d seen that very clearly last Halloween, during the party with the dead. 

He peered around the corner to see the redhead confronting a group of Savanaclaw students, arm outstretched.

“Um… doesn’t Ruggie-senpai normally run errands for the Housewarden?” One of them asked.

Ace shrugged. “Ruggie-senpai was busy, so he handed it off to me.”

Leona felt his lips twitch into a smirk. What a little brat.

The students of his own dorm seemed to shift uneasily at that. “I’m not so sure—”

“Okay, fine,” Ace said with a clearly exaggerated sigh. He drew the hand back and ran it through his hair. “I guess I’ll have to take it up with Leona-senpai.” He turned on his heel, before pausing. “Sorry, what were your names?” He asked over his shoulder.

That was enough to send the boys scrambling. “No. There’s no need for that. Here.” The one in front handed off his snack. Leona could see the wicked grin on the herbivore’s face. His tail flicked. He was somewhat amused that Ace had succeeded and yet utterly disappointed in the brainless goons of his own dorm who had fallen for it.

Ace turned around easily. “You’re a real champ~” He said sweetly. “I’m sure Leona-senpai would appreciate this.”

Turning on his heel once more, Ace slipped the snack into his pocket, whistling cheerfully. Now that Leona could see it better, it was one of the limited-time flavored chips that they were selling in the cafeteria. One that he’d sent Ruggie in a rush to buy.

He smirked, waiting for Ace to round the corner. “Oi, Herbivore. Heard you had something for me.” Leona leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Ace looked like he could have jumped out of his skin, stopping in his tracks before placing a hand over his heart. “Fuck.” He hissed before quickly schooling his face to a bright smile. “Hi, Leona-senpai. What are you doing over here?”

Leona held out his hand. “The snack I asked you to get? Where is it?”

He could see the boy’s eyes flicker down to his own pocket, gears turning in his head as he tried to find the best way out of this. He had two options, of course. The stupid one, where he pretends Leona never said anything like that and he gets to eat tiled flooring. Or, the smart option where he hands over the snack and takes his loss.

For once, he decided to be smart. He pulled the packet of chips out of his pocket with a crinkle and slapped it into his palm. His grin was extremely forced. “Just as you asked, senpai. Limited edition chips.” His gaze lingered on them for a moment. 

Leona patted him on the shoulder, leaning in ever so slightly. “I better not catch you using my name like that again, you hear me frosh?”

He swallowed, almost audibly. “Right.”

Straightening up, the lion brushed past him. He supposed he had to thank the guy. He’d brightened up his mood considerably with his antics. 

Ruggie found him not a few moments later, holding up a bag of chips. “Leona-san, I’ve got— hey, how come you already have one?” He said, pulling his hand back. “That means this one’s mine, right?” He grinned, opening the packet without waiting for Leona’s answer.

Leona just smirked. “Ace was kind enough to do your job for you.” He said simply. He tossed his own bag of chips at Ruggie. The hyena stretched out a hand, catching it easily in his palm. “Take it. I’m not a fan of tomatoes.”

“Then, why even ask me to get you one?” He muttered crossly. 

He only shrugged. “It’s limited edition.” He said as if that answered everything.

Ruggie rolled his eyes.

A few days later, Leona was hit with a striking sense of deja vu. Same time of day. Same hallway. Same corner. Same Savanaclaw students. And same old Ace Trappola.

“Again?” One of the beastmen spoke up. He glanced at the others behind him.

“Yup!” Ace chirped.

“Maybe you should go on and tell Leona-senpai that you failed to get some.” 

Ace stepped back, raising one hand placatingly. “Hey, cut a guy some slack, will you? You saw how monstrous that line is. I’ll pay you back. Next time there’s a limited edition item, I’ll get you two.”

He was such a sweet-talker, wasn’t he? To pull this kind of trick again, even after Leona had threatened him. It was like he was itching for a beating.

After a long tense moment, the Savanaclaw student handed over his food. Leona grit his teeth. Sevens, they were so stupid. How could they fall for the same trick not once, but twice?

His ears pricked at the sound of familiar creeping footsteps behind him. “Ruggie. Did you get it?” He kept his voice quiet, not to alert the freshmen to his presence.

Taking note of his voice, Ruggie lowered his own. “Sorry, Leona-san. They sold out so quickly. Tried to lift one from a Scarabia kid’s pocket and he caught me.” Ruggie chuckled, though sounding a little out of breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Watch.” He said quietly, just as Ace rounded the corner once more.

“Leona-senpai!” He said, the perfect mix of shocked and nervous. “Ha… Don’t say it.” He forked over the deluxe sandwich he was gripping in his hand, lips pursed into a thin line of annoyance.

“What did I say, frosh?” Leona snarled. “I said don’t use my name like that if you’re going to get caught.”

Ace looked sheepish. “Didn’t think I was gonna get caught, Senpai.” 

Ruggie snickered. “Thanks for doing my job for me, Ace-kun~”

Now looking utterly humiliated, the frosh rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I go now? I handed it over.” He drawled.

It was always his right hand. His left stayed firmly in his pocket. Ah, he saw what this game was. He tossed the idea of calling him out back and forth in his head. In the end, he decided this whole charade had amused him enough. Leona waved him off. After all, he didn’t mind someone with a little cunning in them. 

Ace turned and walked down the hall, picking up speed as he got further and further away. Leona’s ears began twitching as they picked up the sound of crinkling plastic from his pocket. 

“Leona-San, did he—“ Ruggie’s own ears wiggled.

Leona began to laugh. Head tilted back, amused laughter that bubbled up from his belly. What a little brat, to pretend to fork over his only sandwich while hiding a spare up his sleeve. 

“What a cunning little fox.” He drawled, grinning. “He could be an actor if he wanted.” 

Ruggie blinked. “You noticed, didn’t you?”

“Course I did, Ruggie. He was making one-handed gestures this time around and keeping the left side of his body as still as possible.”

“You could have gotten two out of him.” The hyena said, tilting his head to look Leona in the eye.

“I like the types that learn from their mistakes.” He said simply. Ruggie snickered. Leona didn’t even need to look at him to know what he was thinking. “If I catch him next time, he’s in for it.” 

“Sure, sure, Leona-san.” He didn’t sound like he believed a word. 

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

"Picking husbandos for me has always been rather easy. It's asking the age old question "Where's the goofballs?" But finding my love of Zoro and Ace, I was still surprised that I fell in love with them."

Due to me getting 100+ episodes into a certain pirate anime, I just wanted to talk about the men in my life that were in this show. One of these men is kind of recent, like the last week and a half recent. But once I realized it... I was already in too deep. For the longest time, out of all the main four male characters I simped for Sanji. That was until last week I fell in love with Zoro. It sort of hit me upside the head during the Drum Island Arc.

I've always found Zoro to be this lovable goon, but hadn't fallen in love with him until recently. It took his antics during the Drum arc for me to realize that I was in way too deep (when he dove into the freezing ass water, tried bartering with Usopp for his warmer clothes, kicked the bad guys ass only to steal his coat) that I realized that I had a weakness for the himbo swordsman. He was just too cute for me to not love him. But at the same time he as everyone in the fandom knows has this power behind him. After I realized that brief scenario I had suddenly spiraled down this EPIC rabbit hole. After that I *loved* this dummy, I was gone too far. Zoro's personality just kept pulling me in deeper and now you've noticed my latest crisis. He turned out so, so, SO much worse than Sanji. But at the same time I realized that I didn't care either way.

But Zoro wasn't the only one, ooh no because that would be way too easy for me to deal with. No there had to be another himbo that stole my heart. That other himbo being something that is qualified as much more my type and that would be Portgas D Ace. Ace has quickly become everything to me in this series. At first I didn't really want him to be because I already knew how his story ends and it's the opposite of pretty. But he was just so cute, goofy, and he's voiced by Travis freaking Willingham, like Roy Mustang HELLOO?! What do you expect from me at this point? It was pretty much love at first sight for me. The minute that my best friend Gris encouraged that I did further research on the men that were coming I found that I had a problem. And that problem was only going to get worse. And once I got to him and it turned out to be so much worse than I could've ever imagined, I realized yet again that I didn't even care. All I knew was that was the love of my life and I was already in too deep to care. Just getting to laugh at his antics, scream with my friends that have watched portions of the show, and getting to just yell to the highest heavens about how much this man meant to me, it's been so much fun. That's part of the joy to me about having friends that have a similar tastes and interests. I never had friends that really encouraged this side of me before but once I did I found people that really understood me and I love all of them.

[maeve-of-winter]

not at all here to change ur mind about Kent and chara because we know chara to be a softy off the ice and taking pictures of pigeons to post on social media of course he’s there for this hurt but feral blonde kitten coming into the league lost and hurt

Aw, it makes me so happy to think that other people ship Kentara! Lol, yes, Kent is the feral kitten, and Chara is the gentle giant who takes care of him and lets him cry on his shoulder in Boston when Kent's visits to Samwell end in disaster.

Also, please have this unfinished Kent/Chara WIP:

Everyone in the League knew the story of Kent Parson and Jack Zimmermann. Between Zimmermann being the son of a hockey legend and an award-winning actress, the two of them being rumored to be lovers, and the two of them slated to be top draft picks of their year, culminating in Parson actually being the top draft pick, it was a story that had the hockey world spellbound for weeks. Personally, Zdeno found the fixation on the Zimmermanns’ and Parson’s pain to be both invasive and morbid. Every time he caught a glimpse on TV of some TMZ gossipmonger staking out the Aces prospect camp hotel and then badgering Parson with questions about his feelings on Zimmermann’s condition, he was flooded by renewed disgust.

The Bruins had the dubious privilege of being more familiar with the Parson-Zimmermann saga than anyone else; one of their first-year players for the season was Jordan Caron, who’d played on Parson and Zimmermann’s line in Juniors. The more gossipy of the Bruins (read: Marchy) took full advantage of this connection to attempt to scrounge up details that the press had left uncovered.

“What was he like?” Marchy asked as they stripped off their gear after practice. “Was he, like, an obvious cokehead? Coming to practice high, stuff like that?”

Caron shrugged, and even watching from the corner of his eye, Zdeno could spot the obvious discomfort on his face. “No, nothing like that. He was just an intense guy, you know? He really wasn’t like anyone who you thought would be using. Between them, Parson was the guy who liked to party. I mean, if I’d heard that one of the two of them overdosed without knowing who. . .”

Marchy and several of the younger guys continued to pester Caron with questions, but only until the end of that practice, when Chara firmly told them to knock it off, and they immediately obliged.

Whatever the gossip about Parson, whatever anyone had to say about what he did back in Juniors, no one could deny that he was a phenomenal player on the ice. It wasn’t just that he was good with the puck, either. It wasn’t just that he could score and make it look boring because it came so easily to him. He had speed. During the Olympics, Chara always made a point of watching the speed skaters, following their movements during each event and talking to them later to ask them about their techniques, hoping to improve his own skills. Chara was always conscious of needing to improve himself, always ready to give credit where it was due, so he would readily volunteer that seeing Parson effortlessly outskate any of his opponents was nothing short of incredible

It was utterly astounding to watch. In Zdeno’s experience, first-year players often needed extra help to improve their skating, struggling to catch up to the more stringent demands of the League. But Parson? He was a regular ghost out on the ice, disappearing into the corner of your eye just as you finally thought you’d pinpointed him. It was a good talent for him to possess, given that his size and scoring record made him a prime target for any rival team’s enforcers. Very rarely, however, did any of them catch up to him.

But Parson could catch up to Chara, no question.

It happened near the end of the third period of a particularly rigorous game, with the Bruins leading by one point but the Aces trying their damnedest to bring it into overtime. With Thomas starting to fade on blocking the shots and the Aces’ offense never slowing, Chara was fully expecting them to succeed.

Just as he was steeling himself for the possibility, suddenly, one of the Aces slammed into him at full speed, knocking him against the boards. As Chara fought to keep his balance and also fully realize that, yes, one of the Aces had actually attempted to board him, he vaguely registered that the same player had simply dropped to the ice in a heap. Steadying himself on his skates, Chara glanced down to find that it was Parson, the Aces’s new star and first year player, coughing and convulsing on the ice, seemingly struggling to stand.

Even though it was Parson who came at him, guilt instantly flooded through Chara as he saw the condition of the other player, and cold dread churned in his stomach as Parson let out a hacking cough, dark blood surging out from his throat to splatter across the ice.

Chara didn’t hesitate for a moment before signalling for a ref to halt play at the first opportunity.

It wasn’t until the end of the game, after the Bruins just barely scraped out a win over the Aces, that Chara fully understood what had happened. Parson had lost one of his skate blades mid-stride and, unable to control his direction any longer, plowed straight into Chara. The impact had knocked the wind right out of him and left him with a bloody nose. He’d fallen to the ice, barely able to wheeze in breath, while blood from his nose dripped down his throat as he tried and failed to stand up and locate his missing blade.

Parson somehow found him that night at the bar where the Bruins were celebrating their victory and apologized, backwards snapback hat on his head in all its glory. (It was just beginning to be recognized as his trademark.)

“I’m sorry about what happened during the game,” Parson told him, looking at him directly with an unflinching gaze. “It really was an accident. I really wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Chara stifled a snort at the idea of Parson, who stood nearly a foot shorter than him and easily weighed at least fifty pounds less, deliberately headhunting him on the ice. He’d either have to be incredibly stupid or a complete goon, and he’d seen the way Parson played and knew he was neither.

“No need to apologize,” he told Parson, hoping that his accent didn’t obscure the sincerity in his voice. “What happens on the ice is fine to leave on the ice. We know this time was an accident and not a dirty play.”

“Thanks.” Parson’s lips tugged up a little bit, like he might smile, and suddenly Chara found himself overcome by the distinct desire to see it out in full force. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Parson offer up anything in interviews but a cocky smirk.

“You should let me buy you a drink, though,” Chara continued, letting a playful warmth flood his tone. “To show you I understand your apology.”

Parson laughed and ducked his head slightly, and Chara got his wish fulfilled as he glimpsed a small smile playing across his mouth. Combined with the faint pink tinge in his cheeks, it was, Chara decided, a very good look for him.

[red-jaebyrd]

Best of you

Part one - Fight or Flight

This sequel fic was inspired by this post by @hood-ex. Thanks for the inspiration, Emily.

It had been a week since Dick, Damian and Jason had gotten back from the Fortress of Solitude. Fourteen days since Bruce had shipped them off to the Fortress to recover from their injuries. Fifteen days since Bane had beat up each of them within an inch of their life and hung them by their necks in the Cave.

Once the boys had made it to the Manor and into their own familiar surroundings they had remained in each other’s sights. Neither of them ever leaving the other alone, they were completely attentive to one another. No one had questioned it or commented on it. Even if they had, Dick didn’t care. Both of his brothers needed him and he was going to be there for them in any way he was capable. 

Jason had moved back into the Manor temporarily. He told Dick it was just until Damian started to feel safe again. But Dick knew Jason needed to be around them too.

Dick knew it was just an excuse to stay in close proximity to them. He didn’t call Jason out on it, because truthfully, he liked having Jason around. He liked knowing that Jason was close and safe with them, instead of somewhere outside Gotham in a safehouse alone.

Dick’s concern for Damian increased within their first week back at the Manor. Damian had always practiced hypervigilance when it came to his surroundings whether he was on patrol or in the Manor. It had been part of his training with the League and in turn had become a part of his personality. But ever since the incident with Bane and the hanging, Damian’s hypervigilance had morphed into paranoia. He always insisted on triple checking every room he entered and was jumpy to the touch.

After the first week back Dick and Jason had eased his burden by taking on the first and third room checks. This helped some, but Damian still flinched with every hand on his shoulder or back.

The three of them weren’t on patrol duty yet as Bruce had benched them for three weeks to heal from their injuries. Dick played Cruise Director by organizing activities for both himself and Damian leaving room for Jason to tag along, which he often did. Dick made sure to schedule in exercise to keep their muscles conditioned and downtime either in the library or the media room.

Lately much of their evenings were spent together in the media room watching a movie. On movie nights Dick and Damian always sat together on the couch in the center. Alfred the cat and Ace the dog would always follow them into the room to provide their own brand of comfort. Jason preferred to sit in the back of the room where he could keep a close watch on his brothers and the closest exit. He had even brought in a small table to use as a gun cleaning station.

On movie nights Damian had always fallen asleep first. It wasn’t surprising considering the dark circles under his eyes and his quiet demeanor. The teen hadn’t been getting much sleep at night since they had gotten back from the Fortress. On their first night back Dick had been ripped out of a deep sleep to the sounds of screaming and crying coming from Damian’s room. Adrenaline had torn through Dick’s chest as he frantically rushed to reach his little brother’s room.

The sight of his little brother clawing at this neck and gasping for air had ripped Dick’s heart apart. It had been a sight he had hoped he would never have to see again. Instinctually Dick had climbed into the bed and held Damian close to him whispering reassurances into the young teen’s ear. Damian’s whole body trembled as he clung to Dick like a life line until his sobs turned into hiccups. Dick had finally allowed the adrenaline crash to overtake his body forcing him to curl up in the bed with Damian and fall back to sleep.

After that night Dick had suggested that Damian sleep in his room. He had expected Damian to put up a fight; argue staunchly that he wasn’t a child who needed the comfort of an adult after a bad dream; that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. However, to Dick’s surprise, Damian hadn’t the energy to argue. Instead, had just nodded, grabbed his duvet off his bed and followed Dick into his bedroom. 

They didn’t tell Bruce or Alfred about the nightmares.  Damian had made them promise. But Dick knew that Bruce could hear the screaming too.

Dick knew that if there was ever going to be any healing from this incident, especially with Damian, they all needed to talk about what had happened to them. Of course that was easier said than done. Dick knew better than to think that the other two would go for it. Jason would stop coming around to avoid sharing his feelings and Damian would shut down and refuse to talk. Ideally Dick would need to be the one to initiate the conversation to get them to open up.

Truthfully, deep down Dick didn’t want to talk about what had happened to him either, but he knew he had to for Damian’s sake. The boy was spiraling quickly before his eyes, turning into someone Dick didn’t recognize and it was starting to scare him. Dick had to do something even if it involved dredging up old memories of a time in his life he would like to stay buried and forget.

Except Dick couldn’t forget what had happened because now he had fresh rope burns to accompany the old scars from the last time a rope was fastened around his neck. Thanks to Bane those old memories that had once been buried were now fresh and new every time he closed his eyes to go to sleep. Old triggers Dick once had under control were now at the forefront of his mind eliminating any progress he had made in the last three years to overcome them.

Dick had just started wearing scarves again this past winter. He had missed the warm, familiar feeling of the handmade scarf Barbara had made for him all those years ago. The way the soft fabric would protect his neck from the cold onslaught of an unforgiving Gotham windchill. He loved that scarf and it was a welcome relief to be able to start wearing it again, but now that had all changed. Right now he could barely tolerate wearing a crew neck t-shirt.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Bane had one of his goons cover Dick’s nose and mouth while Bane had hung Damian first and then beat the shit out of Jason. He had made Dick watch helplessly as his brothers suffered while leaving him to slowly suffocate. Dick had started to panic when he couldn’t breathe and clawed at the meaty hand covering his nose and mouth, but the bastard had held firm. Dick’s lungs burned as he gradually lost consciousness just as Bane had strung up Jason. 

No, Dick didn’t want to talk about any of this stuff with Damian and Jason. However, he knew he had to if he was going to help his brothers heal. This was another reason why he encouraged movie nights, and hoped maybe one of these nights Damian would open up.

It had been a week and Damian had barely said anything more than two word sentences to either Dick or Jason. Bruce had tried futilely to get Damian to open up to him, but soon handed the reins of communication back over to Dick. The irony of Bruce trying to get Damian to open up wasn’t lost on Dick. The more Bruce pushed Damian to talk, the more Damian shut down further frustrating Dick.

Dick was positive that on one of their movie nights Damian would eventually open up. He wasn’t rushing it, but Dick had hoped that Damian would start to feel relaxed and comfortable enough to talk; and to Dick’s surprise it had worked.

“I never did have the tolerance to withstand the chokeholds from my trainers,” Damian muttered completely out of the blue one night. He kept his eyes on the TV screen and his hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap.

“You’re not…” Dick cleared his throat, nearly choking on his soda. “…you’re not supposed to have a tolerance to strangulation, Dami.”

“I am. It was part of my training and the only skill I couldn’t perfect,” Damian continued, pulling at the collar of this shirt. “One time Mother had a trainer hang me with a rope. It was so tight it dug into my neck and I panicked like I always did when something was round my neck,” Damian choked out a sob at the last word.  “I asked her to call it off, to make him stop but she ignored me. I eventually blacked out. I woke up in my chambers with rope burns around my neck and a migraine. She said I was a failure; that tears and whinging was a sign of weakness; and therefore a disgrace to the Al Ghul legacy.”

Dick put his arm around Damian. He could sense where this conversation was going; that there was some unresolved guilt for actions Damian was incapable of stopping that horrible night. The boy turned into the embrace leaning into Dick’s chest.

“You are not a failure, Lil’ D. There is nothing you could’ve done to have stopped what had happened to us.”

“I was trained to be the best, Richard,” Damian insisted, gripping Dick’s shirt. “I can fight blindfolded. I can manipulate my organs to avoid major injury, I can even hold my breath for six minutes, but I could never stand to have anything around my neck obstructing my airway. I was not good enough.”

“You are the best at everything you do, Dames,” Dick comforted, kissing the top of Damian’s head. “Your mother’s standards  don’t matter here.”

They watched more of the movie in silence. All that could be heard was Damian sniffling and the occasional thud of Jason cleaning his guns.

“I used to get nightmares about it. Feeling the rope tightening around my neck and not being able to breathe,” Damian confessed, tugging at the collar of his shirt again. “Now the nightmares are back and I cannot get them to stop.”

Dick’s whole body tensed at hearing Damian recall the feeling of the rope around his neck. His palms started to get clammy as he remembered Super Woman’s barbed lasso tightening around his own neck as he struggled to breathe and stay conscious. Dick still had the scars from the barbs sinking into his skin. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now was likely a good time as any to share what had happened to him.

“Me too, kiddo. I get it, but talking about what happened helps. For me that…that wasn’t the first time I had rope tied around my neck either,” Dick shared, rubbing his hands nervously along his thighs. “There was an incident with the Crime Syndicate a few years back. Super Woman, an evil, twisted version of Wonder Woman had a lasso; she called it the ‘The Lasso of Submission’. It stung and burned when she tightened it around my neck.”

Ace climbed up on the couch next to Dick. Sensing Dick’s distress, he put his head in Dick’s lap. Dick welcomed the added weight of the dog and dug his hands into Ace’s fur. The sensation helped to ground Dick so he could continue.

“It wasn’t an ordinary lasso. It not only had the power to make its subject submit to the wielder’s will it also had magical barbs that sunk into skin and held the lasso in place,” Dick pulled down his shirt collar to reveal old white faded scars that peppered along his neck among the healing rope burns from two weeks ago.

Damian’s eyes widened at the sight of Dick’s neck.

“I couldn’t wear scarves for three years and I still can’t wear turtlenecks,” Dick confessed, righting his shirt collar.

“Turtlenecks make you look like a douche…no offense,” Jason chimed in from behind them.

“Thank you for the fashion tip, Jason,” Dick sighed, craning his neck to address Jason.

“Anytime, Dickie,” Jason replied, not taking his eyes off the task of cleaning his guns.

Dick turned his attention back onto Damian.

“Thank you for talking to me about what has been bothering you,” Dick whispered, squeezing Damian into a sideways hug. “I know it wasn’t easy, but talking it out helps to get the bad stuff out of our heads.”

Damian shook his head.

“Talking about my past with the League serves no purpose other than to showcase my weakness and my inability to maintain control over my emotions. Complaining about past events that I cannot change feels futile and pathetic,” Damian said, his voice cracking at the last word. “However, lately those past experiences are all I can think about since the incident with Bane in the Cave.”

“Talking about difficult experiences and working through the trauma caused by those experiences is not a sign of weakness, Dames,” Dick comforted, keeping his arm around Damian and leaning his cheek on top of Damian’s head. “It takes a lot of strength to admit that you need help and the support of your family to help you through this time. I’m always here to listen and help you in any way I can. Okay?”

“Okay,” Damian replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Silence fell between the brothers again while the rest of the movie played on. It had surprised Dick that Damian would bring up something so personal about himself in front of Jason. Still Dick was proud of Damian for opening up. It had only seemed fair that Dick reciprocated with his own fears and nightmares. Perhaps it would help encourage Damian to open up more with him in the future.

“Is the kid asleep?” Jason asked, making his way to the couch.

Dick looked over and could see the slow rhythmic motion of Damian’s chest rise and fall as his breaths came in deep and even. He could also hear the soft sounds of snoring and feel Damian’s body completely boneless leaning against him.

“Yes,” Dick answered, feeling the shift of the couch as Jason sat down next to him and Ace.

“It’s good that the kid has you to talk to about this,” Jason said, gently petting Ace’s head. “Lord knows he’s not going to talk about this shit with Bruce.”

“You have me too, Jason,” Dick assured, nudging his elbow against Jason’s ribs.

“I know, Dickie,” Jason answered, grabbing the Blu-ray remote and thumbing through the main menu.

“Do you want to talk?” Dick asked.

“No,” Jason answered, keeping his eyes focused on the TV.

Dick nodded. Jason would open up when he felt like it. At least Dick hoped Jason would one day talk to him about the hanging and how it was affecting him. Dick wondered if that was why Jason had asked if Damian was asleep.

“Did – did the League train you –,“ Dick asked, motioning to his throat. “-for that too?”

Jason looked at him with blank eyes but Dick could see the muscles working in Jason’s jaw. Jason turned his attention back to TV as he continued to fiddle around with the main menu options until he found the ‘Special Features’ menu.

“No, but Willis always liked going for the neck,” Jason responded candidly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, you didn’t do it,” Jason retorted.

“No, but, I’m still sorry that happened to you,” Dick empathized.

Jason kept his focus on the TV and swallowed thickly.

“I was supposed to wake him up so he could leave in time for a job. ‘7’clock sharp you little shit, or we don’t eat for a week,’” Jason’s lip curled in disgust retelling his story. “He was out cold and wouldn’t wake up. I had to get on top of him and shake him. He woke up in a rage and I wasn’t fast enough to get out of his way. He grabbed me by the neck and squeezed hard until I saw spots.”

Jason paused to pick at a loose thread on the arm of the couch. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I remember clawing and scratching at his hand to get him to let go. It only pissed him off and made him squeeze harder. He finally let go when Mom hit him over the head with a frying pan. Never woke him up after that day, but it didn’t matter. He always went for my neck.”

Dick didn’t know what to say to Jason, which was rare considering Dick always knew what to say to everyone. He knew Jason’s dad was an abusive drunk. Jason never talked about his time with his parents before coming to the Manor only vague stories of his experience living on the streets. This was the first time Jason had ever opened up about his dad. It was probably better to just state the obvious since empathizing only pissed Jason off.

“Your dad was an asshole for doing that to you,” Dick said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah well, others have done much worse,” Jason said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dick didn’t need to be reminded. He lived with the guilt every day that he wasn’t there to protect Jason from the “much worse” and the guilt only grew in intensity as he glanced at the angry red rope burns on Jason’s neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Dick mumbled, his bottom lip trembling.

“Why do you keep apologizing? It’s fucking annoying. You didn’t do anything,” Jason snapped.

“Exactly, I didn’t do a fucking thing the whole time that asshole beat the shit out of you and Damian,” Dick blurted, glancing at Damian’s sleeping form. The sleeping boy stirred and shifted his position away from Dick to lean against the couch arm. Dick lightly carded his fingers through Damian’s hair.

“I didn’t do anything but watch as he strung up both of you in the Cave by your necks,” Dick continued, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. Ace whined and put his head back in Dick’s lap.

Jason turned sideways on the couch so he was facing Dick and gently placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder. The contact was welcome, but Dick didn’t feel like he deserved it.

“Stop, Dick, is this about Bane? You couldn’t do anything. I don’t – do you think we blame you for what happened?” Jason asked, tilting his head to get Dick to look at him. “This wasn’t your fault. Why are you shouldering this?”

Dick choked out a sob before catching himself. One hand reflexively reaching into Ace’s fur, with the other he scrubbed the wetness from his eyes with his sleeve.

“I couldn’t protect you – again,” Dick muttered, tears streaming down his face. “It’s my job to protect my brothers, all my brothers. I couldn’t do that for you or Dam –“

“- because that Motherfucker had his goons restraining and smothering you,” Jason interrupted. “Bane knew it would fuck you up to have to watch.”

It was true. Bane was a genius when it came to mentally and physically breaking his adversaries. He knew he could destroy Dick just by having him watch Damian and Jason get hurt. And by all accounts Bane achieved his objective. As much as he tried, Dick couldn’t get the images of his brothers’ bruised faces and beaten bodies out of his brain. Not to mention the guilt of being unable to do anything to stop it was eating him alive.

“I know you want to protect us, Dick. I know you wanted to be there for Tim. We all did, but even you have your limits,” Jason continued. “You can’t shield us from everything. Shit happens with this life and this job. We signed up for this. We chose as a team to defy the Bat and go after Bane. How were we to know we’d be walking into an ambush? Fucker’s a menace.”

Dick shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“I know what we signed up for,” Dick countered, pointing at his own neck. “I have all the scars to prove it. But I didn’t sign up to not feel safe in my own home. I didn’t sign up to hear my youngest brother screaming every night from a nightmare, clawing at his neck and gasping for air.”

Or see that my other brother is unable to go to sleep by himself without all the lights on. Dick kept that last statement to himself.

“I didn’t sign up for that,” Dick repeated, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, leaning his head back on the couch and blowing out a breath.

“I’ve never heard you talk about the Crime Syndicate before,” Jason said, changing the subject. “Was that – was that the first time you told anyone what had happened to you?”

Dick nodded and curled in on himself. It wasn’t a pleasant incident to think about, much less discuss with anyone even if he considered them to be a safe person and Jason was safe.  Aside from the trauma of having a barbed lasso around his neck and getting smothered to stop his heart to diffuse a bomb; there was also the shame of falling so easily into their trap and the indignity of having his identity exposed to the world. It was easier to just keep the humiliation and trauma to himself.

“I thought it would help Damian open up and – ,“ Dick answered, petting Ace with both hands. “I probably should have talked about it sooner. But –,”

“- you thought it would be easier to just keep things to yourself,” Jason said, finishing Dick’s sentence. “I get that, but Dick, I know you. You need to talk things out and you didn’t talk about this to anyone? Not even with Alfred?”

“I couldn’t –,” Dick repeated, shaking his head.

“You know you have me right? if –if you ever wanted to talk,” Jason offered. 

Dick couldn’t believe what he was hearing from Jason. It must have shown on his face because Jason’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead in surprise.

“What?” Jason asked. “What did I say?”

“Jason, I know you and you hate talking about feelings and stuff,” Dick responded, tilting his head and furrowing his brow.

Jason briefly shifted his attention to the TV pointing the remote and turning it off.

“I hate talking about my feelings,” Jason gestured to himself. “But I know you need to get that shit out or you’ll explode.”

“Thanks,” Dick replied, giving Jason a small smile.

“So, do you want to talk?” Jason asked, reaching for the nearly empty bowl of popcorn sitting on the ottoman.

Dick considered the offer. It meant a lot coming from Jason. Jason didn’t offer himself like that to just anyone. Dick had overheard Jason giving Tim the same offer a few months ago. He wondered if Tim was able to take him up on that offer before – before he died. There was no doubt Dick would one day take Jason up on his offer, but not tonight.

“Rain check?” Dick asked, leaning his head against the couch and rubbing his eyes. “I’m pretty beat.”

Jason nodded. He turned the TV back on and began scrolling through Netflix. Dick closed his eyes and started to let himself drift allowing the pull of sleep to overtake him.

“Just promise me you’ll never keep shit that big to yourself again,” Jason said, breaking the silence.

Dick opened his eyes and sat up; an idea quickly coming to his head that would also benefit Jason.

“I promise, but you have to promise too,” Dick countered, holding out his hand to seal the deal.

Dick could see the wheels turning in Jason’s head. His eyes widened as he realized that Dick had just tricked him into agreeing to do the very thing he hates, talking about his feelings. Jason’s shoulders sagged.

“Fine, we have a deal,” Jason huffed, shaking Dick’s offered hand. “Don’t get any other bright ideas.”

“You know, if we wake Damian we can probably get him in on the deal too,” Dick joked.

“Don’t push it, Big Bird,” Jason said, throwing a handful of popcorn at Dick.

[intomymindspace]

Like or Like Like ✰ Azumane Asahi

Like or Like Like by Miniature Tigers

azumane asahi x gn reader

Through the Summer and the Fall // Haikyuu!! Songfic Series

a/n: oya oya all 😌 welcome to my very first haikyuu fic! I started watching it after finishing season 3 of attack on titan and I um 🥺 love it 🥺 so this is what happens. I make a whole damn playlist about these boys. Anywayyyyys, here y'all are. The haikus used are ones I found on Pinterest by JS Parker - I did not write them and I do not own them so please don’t kill me, I can’t write good haikus for the life of me. Thank you once again for reading and taking the time to support me and my work. The next fic in the series will be Daddyichi!

Warnings: none other than asahi and his crippling shyness

It was the perfect summer weather for a beach day - and it was a perfect way to end a week’s worth of summer training. The beach was just a two hour drive from the school, and by the time the buses had arrived, it was only ten in the morning. As the Karasuno boys excitedly clambered out of the bus, they greeted players from the other schools and began pulling supplies to set up at the beach.

Asahi was too distracted by watching you through the bus window from below that Suga managed to hit him in the stomach, causing the tall brunette to double over, sputtering in surprise. “S-suga-san!” He was met with laughter from the silver-haired boy and their captain.

I watched you through your window

I was wearing that dumb sweatshirt

“Whatchya lookin’ at, Asahi-san?” His face immediately turned beet red, his eyes going wide as he realized how easily he was caught. “I - nothing! It’s just hot!” As Suga playfully hummed in response, Daichi slapped Asahi’s back hard.

“No wonder you look like a tomato! I can’t believe you’re wearing that right now.” He looked down at the ivory-colored sweater you had knit him as a gift from the previous Christmas. Even while Daichi had a knowing smile on his lips, Asahi wore a slight frown. “Hey, I happen to like it.” Their response was a cohesive snicker.

“Just don’t forget to take it off later.” Suga said, winking. “Now hurry up, let’s get all the stuff set up.”

I looked like a goon, I was dressed for winter

Even though it was the middle of June

Once everything had been set up on the beach, everyone got down to business making sure that they wouldn’t get sunburnt. Asahi’s eyes were wide as he caught you pulling your shirt off and shimmying your shorts off to reveal your swimsuit. You were happily chatting with Kiyoko and Yachi as they had just done the same - and he couldn't help but stare. You looked really cute in your swimsuit. As your head popped up, your eyes came into contact with his, and you gave him a wide smile without any hesitation.

He had been caught staring at you again! By no one other than yourself - yet he managed to send a nervous smile back to you before whipping his head away so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice how red his face looked.

“Oya, Azumane-san, you’re looking a bit red. Are you sick?” It was Kuroo who asked him - Nekoma’s tent being right next to Karasuno’s made it easy for the captain to see what was going on. At this point, it was fairly obvious to many players that Asahi had a thing for you. Asahi responded with a quick “I’m fine!” but it was clear to see that he was flushed because of you. They were all talking in a small group with Daichi, Suga, and Bokuto - and the boys smiled at each other deviously.

I watched you get undressed

I must have turned bright red

“Maybe you should go offer to help them put on some sunscreen, Azumane-san~” they didn't think Asahi could get even more red, but he did.

“What! Why?” Asahi immediately spun again to find you lathering up the front of your body - it seemed Kiyoko was too busy helping Yachi while being hounded by Nishinoya and Tanaka.

“Well, if you won’t, I certainly will! I gotta beat the crowd!” Asahi was going to get whiplash if he kept moving his neck that fast - it had been Bokuto who proclaimed that, an owlish grin on the boy’s face. Crowd? Asahi questioned himself - only to have it answered when he noticed a few other boys from Nekoma and Fukurodani begin to walk over in your direction. As Kuroo and Bokuto followed, his eyes turned into slits - Daichi and Suga could practically see the dark aura that was radiating off the ace’s skin.

'Cause I couldn't stand to face you

'Cause I liked what I saw

Asahi felt another jab into his side, waking him from his jealousy. He looked up to find mom and dad staring at him, an expecting look in their eyes. 

“Fine! Just because I don’t want them to do it…” he practically sprinted towards you.

You were already being bombarded by boys asking if they could help you - but with a friendly smile, you turned all of them down again and again. Out of all the voices, you turned your head to find Asahi had called your name as he stepped beside you and Bokuto behind him with a pout on his face. Asahi tried his best to keep his blush to a minimum, but he wished you didn’t look as cute as you did - mainly for his own sake.

“Wou-would you like me to help you? Get your behind?” his eyes widened. “I mean - your back. Your back. I put sunscreen on your back.” He cursed himself internally - why did he have to be a stuttering mess all the time? Especially in front of you.

And maybe we should just stay friends

Asahi only blushed harder as you smiled widely at him, handing him the bottle of sunscreen you were using.

“Thank you Sahi-kun!” Could the poor ace get any more red? He simply nodded as you turned your back towards him. Moving the sleeves of his sweater as high as possible, he squirted sunscreen into one of his hands. He smirked as he heard the sad groans and sighs as the group of boys walked away in defeat.

“Oh, wait!” You immediately turned around just as he was rubbing his hands together. Worried, his eyes widened. Did you not want him to do it anymore? He immediately heard a few footsteps from behind him change direction.

“You should take off your sweater before you get - oh!” You laughed as you found the tall boy staring at you with both his hands covered in sunscreen. 

“Here, Sahi-kun - I’ll help you take it off.” He heard another round of defeated sighs.

Tell me how you feel about me

Do you like or like, like me?

“Nononono! It’s okay! I’ll be fine, you don’t need to do that!” He was surprised by your forwardness, but passed it off as you being helpful.

“Don’t be silly! It’ll be awful to wash off - especially since I made it for you~” Asahi gulped as you said that, simply nodding his head at the speed of light. He felt like his ears were turning red as he felt the tips of your fingers brush against his abdomen as you grabbed the bottom of his sweater - you took it off him with ease, avoiding getting the sleeves covered in sunscreen. He couldn’t believe that you were undressing him. Folding it quickly and putting it in your bag for safekeeping, you turned your back towards him again, trying not to ogle his well-defined body.

Tell me what you really feel

Do you like me? Just say you do

Your skin felt so soft - even under his rough, calloused fingers. He had never touched you this intimately - despite you being very close friends with him. Perhaps it was because he had only given you shoulder massages when you had more clothes on - he immediately tried to block out any thoughts relating to your body. But it was hard! He was crushing on you so badly, and all he wanted was to appreciate and love all of you.

Love. It was a word he was quite familiar with when it came to you - and immediately he was once again struck with more anxiety. The love letter he had in his pocket last night had gone missing.

I climbed up your front porch

And I doorbell ditched ya

Asahi breathed in and out very deeply as he paced in front of the managers’ room. Psyching himself up, he stopped and knocked at the door. He felt the letter sticking out of his jacket pocket - it may have been as light as a crow’s feather, but it felt like a forty pound dumbbell. He perked up, and his eyes widened as he heard your voice from the other side of the door.

“Coming! One second!” His panic immediately began to set in - and he had no other choice but to flee. He couldn’t confess without the fear of blacking out - it didn't matter how many times he had practiced giving the letter to Suga. Little did he know that the letter had fallen as he ran.

And I felt so bad, couldn't cope to what I did

So I laughed myself sick all the way to my car

When you opened the door, you found no one there - you had thought it was probably one of the boys pranking you, but that was until you saw a small envelope a few feet away. Walking towards it, you saw that it had your name written on it as you picked it up. You let out a small hum as you walked back into the room.

“Is that what I think it is?” Kiyoko asked you, seeing the envelope in your hand as the other closed the door.

“I’m not sure - but let's find out!”

Tell me how you feel about me

Do you like or like, like me?

It was two simple haikus - and to make the guessing game even harder, there wasn’t a name.

I think of you, and

dream about you, in colors

that do not exist.

I’m choking on words

too scared to say: I love you.

I’ll tell you this way.

The eloquently written words made a blush rise to your cheeks as you wondered who could’ve possibly written it.

Tell me what you really feel

Do you like me? Just say you do

You were watching the boys play mixed matches of beach volleyball. Trying to keep your eyes off of Karasuno’s ace, you thought about who could’ve left you the love letter.

“Do you know who it is?” It was Yachi that had asked you, but you shook your head and she let out a small huff. “Do you have any hunches?” It was Kiyoko who asked the next question.

“Not at all! I don’t even know who it could’ve been! There are so many boys here, and so many have talked to me this week.”

“Maybe it’s Bokuto-san! Or maybe - ”

“Do you think it’s someone from Karasuno?” Your cheeks immediately tinted at the question.

“I don’t know,” you answered quietly. “But I hope so.” Your eyes immediately trailed back to Asahi, who was serving. The concentrated look in his eyes and the way his tanning skin glistened in the summer sun made a heavy blush rise to your cheeks. Little did you know that Suga had been listening in on your conversation from the sidelines - and he caught the way you looked at the ace.

Tell me how you feel about me

Do you like or like, like me?

“Oi, Dai-san! We need a plan.” When Asahi went to the bathroom during the late lunch, the captain immediately called for a team huddle. Daichi laid out a simple plan - one that required the team to make sure that no one was near the two of you.

“Will it work!?”

“Tch, it seems simple enough.”

“I can’t believe he still hasn’t done anything. It’s been at least two years.”

“We execute at sunset.”

Tell me what you really feel

Do you like me?

It was nearing sunset, and Yachi and Kiyoko had left you in the waist-high water to grab some water - and you could hear the voices of boys playing soccer on the shore. Just as the sun was beginning to set, the warmth began to dissipate as well - the ocean breeze not helping. While you wanted to get out of the water, you wanted to watch the sky change colors for just a little while longer. Kiyoko had taken your towel and Asahi’s sweater, which was still tucked away in your bag next to hers. Going up to Asahi, she quickly nudged the items into his hands, his face riddled in confusion.

“This is your time to go confess, Asahi-san. You can do it.” Asahi felt a blush creep up to his cheeks as his eyes glossed over. In the background, he could hear his teammates shoot tears from their eyes - not expecting her encouraging words to be a part of the plan. Maybe he had the strength to do it with his team cheering him on! With determination in his eyes, and a warm smile on his lips, Asahi slipped on the sweater and began walking towards you.

Tell me how you feel about me

Do you like or like, like me?

You heard your name being called out from behind you, and you turned to find Asahi standing at the edge of the water, your towel draped over his shoulder. Wading out of the water, you walked up to him as he gave you your towel to dry off.

“Thank you, Sahi-kun.” He still blushed at the endearment every time it fell from your lips - ever since you started calling him that as first years.

“Would… would you like to watch the sunset together?” He almost sighed in relief when you nodded - and you two walked a bit further away from the water. Setting down the towel, you both sat on top of it, your arms encircling your knees as your toes dug into the sand, Asahi leaning back, resting his weight on his arms.

You both sat in a comfortable silence as the sun slowly lowered, colors spreading across the sky and mixing beautifully. While you stared at the view in front of you, the only thing worth looking at in Asahi’s eyes was you. He was enraptured by the way the fading light was striking your features in every possible perfect angle, the way your hair moved slightly with the breeze, and the way you shivered slightly at the ocean’s chill.

Tell me what you really feel

Do you like me? Just say you do

His eyes widened - you were cold! His primal man instincts told him to warm you up, but his shy and gentle nature told him to abort mission - so Asahi compromised, and he immediately sat up and removed his sweater before drawing your attention away from the view.

“You must be chilly - please take my sweater.” There was a look in his eyes that you couldn't quite read properly, but nonetheless, you took the sweater from his hands and slipped it on, immediately being warmed by his radiating body heat. Trying not to ogle at his bare chest again, you decided to scoot closer towards him - so close to the point that your legs and arms rubbed against each other. You both kept your eyes on the sunset, pink dusting both your cheeks.

Asahi stayed sitting up, his hand pressing against the surface behind you so that he could stay close to your body. He couldn't resist the temptation to keep looking at you - and he strangely felt confident enough to have no shame in doing so. The way his oversized sweater somehow fit on your smaller figure so perfectly - draping over your shoulders and ending perfectly above the middle of your thighs. The sight of you in his sweater made his face flush, as it was a sight that left him wanting more of you in every single way.

“I think of you, and dream about you, in colors that do not exist.” His voice was low and soft as he recited the words from the love letter he had meant to give you. Your eyes widened in realization - it was no one other than Asahi himself who had written the letter. Looking at him, you continued the haiku, much to his surprise.

“I - I’m choking on words too scared to say,” you recited, your heart beating out of your chest. Those words had been scorched into your mind since the night before. Asahi let out a small gasp before realizing that he must have dropped the letter - this whole time he had been worried that someone had stolen it. He said your name, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you.” Both of you were blushing messes, but he knew it was his opportunity to shine. As he began to close the space between both your faces, he recited the last line, his lips so dangerously close to yours. “I’ll tell you this way.”

As his lips touched yours for just a mere second, he pulled away to look into your eyes. You knew from the look in his eyes that he was asking if you wanted more - if you wanted him to be yours. You met him halfway to the kiss - and your lips felt like they were lighting on fire as they moved with his. Asahi moved his idle hand to cup just below your jaw - his fingertips dancing at the nape of your neck as his thumb traced your jaw. He felt the way you melted into his hand and lips like you were chocolate. Before going deeper into the kiss, Asahi pulled away, his forehead gently nudging yours as his breathing deepened.

“Will you… be mine? If you’ll have me?” You looked into his mocha eyes to find that the unreadable look he had been giving you all this time was one of pure love. Asahi waited for your response - his heart hammering away in his chest. You smiled brightly, unable to control your happiness as you lunged to hug him, your arms wrapping around his warm torso.

“Of course I will.”

Thank you for reading!

~ Crystal :3

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BONUS

The bus ride back to Karasuno was quiet - the boys were exhausted, most of them sleeping or keeping to themselves with soft conversations. You had fallen asleep rather quickly - your head resting comfortably in Asahi’s warm chest as his arms were wrapped around you - the ace using his jacket as a makeshift pillow for his head between the seat and the window. 

Suga giggled sweetly as he took out his camera to snap a few photos of Karasuno’s new power couple cuddling on the bus, wrapped in each other’s embrace. He made sure to keep them to show his future godchildren.

[thecreaturecodex]

Daemon, Echinodaemon

Image © Wizards of the Coast, by Fred Hooper. Accessed at the Stormwrack Art Gallery here

[I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. 3rd Edition D&D did yugoloths/daemons dirty. Maybe it was a reaction to their role in Planescape, where they were the masterminds of pretty much everything. But 3e’s yugoloths got seriously depowered, and most of the new species introduced were varieties of stupid goon-monsters instead of having the depth or flair of demons or devils. The echinoloth is a case in point. The original has mental statistics of Int 6, Wis 8, Cha 11, no spell-like abilities, and barely any personality to speak of.

This is one of those monsters that already has a good conversion on tumblr, with @thecreaturechronicle​‘s version. That version hews more mechanically close to the text, and makes it the patron of death by pressure. That’s a reasonable choice for a deep-sea daemon, but the echinoloth doesn’t have any pressure related abilities other than “can survive it”. I went a different direction for my version, inspired by the flavor text of them roving the deep sea and the role that real echinoderms play as important scavengers.]

Daemon, Echinodaemon CR 8 NE Outsider (extraplanar) This creature is bipedal, but rather than having a humanoid torso is roughly spherical and is dominated by a shark-toothed maw. A squirming knot of barbed tentacles grow from its upper side. It has no eyes, but moves with malign purpose.

An echinodaemon is the representation of death both of and by scavengers. They preside over the looters of battlefields and beasts squabbling over a carcass. They sometimes form from the souls of evil scavengers (otyughs are not uncommon as sources for echinodaemons), but also arise when a cacodaemon gluts itself on enough souls in a short amount of time. They are bestial and not terribly intelligent, but cunning nonetheless.

Echinodaemons are often, but not always, found in the lightless depths, wandering the deep plains of oceans both extraplanar and of the Material Plane. They also follow behind battles or preside over tar pits and sinkholes to hasten the death of the injured and trapped. The barbed tentacles of an echinodaemon inflict suppurating wounds, and they radiate an aura of nausea. A creature that dies near an echinodaemon invigorates and heals it, making them difficult enemies to fight in environments rich with the dead and dying.

Echinodaemons are not popular among other daemon types, as they will not hesitate to kill a badly wounded daemon and return it to quintessence. They do congregate in massive tangles, especially in the wake of great conflicts. Although as an outsider they do not truly require food, they are compelled to eat the fallen, regardless of whether they were living, undead or constructs. Bits of treasure can be found in an echinodaemon’s gullet, but they do not intentionally collect valuables.

Echinodaemon        CR 8 XP 4,800 NE Large outsider (daemon, evil, extraplanar) Init +5; Senses blindsight 30 ft., blind, Perception +14, tremorsense 60 ft. Aura nausea (30 ft., Fort DC 20) Defense AC 20, touch 10, flat-footed 19 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +10 natural) hp 105 (10d10+50) Fort +8, Ref +10, Will +8 DR 10/good; Immune acid, death effects, disease, gaze attacks, poison, visual spells and effects; Resist cold 10, electricity 10, fire 10; SR 19 Defensive Abilities freedom of movement, gluttonous health Offense Speed 30 ft., climb 30 ft. Melee bite +15 (2d6+5), 4 tentacles +13 (1d6+2 plus infernal wound) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks barbed tentacles Spell-like Abilities CL 10th, concentration +12 Constant—freedom of movement At will—death knell (DC 14), greater teleport (self plus 50 lbs. objects only), ray of exhaustion (DC 15) 1/day—inflict critical wounds (DC 16), slow (DC 15), summon (level 4, 1 echinodaemon, 40%) Statistics Str 20, Dex 13, Con 20, Int 8, Wis 12, Cha 14 Base Atk +10; CMB +16; CMD 27 Feats Cleave, Improved Initiative, Lightning Reflexes, Multiattack, Power Attack Skills Climb +21, Escape Artist +14, Perception +14, Stealth +10, Survival +14, Swim +13 Languages Abyssal, Draconic, Infernal, telepathy 100 ft. SQ bottom walker, no breath Ecology Environment any (Abaddon) Organization solitary, cluster (2-5) or tangle (7-12) Treasure incidental Special Abilities Aura of Nausea (Su) All living creatures within 30 feet of an echinodaemon must succeed a DC 20 Fortitude save each round or be nauseated for 1 round. This is a disease effect, and the save DC is Constitution based. Barbed Tentacles (Ex) An echinodaemon deals bludgeoning and piercing damage. Bottom Walker (Ex) An echinodaemon is immune to pressure and cold damage from depth in water. Gluttonous Health (Su) Whenever a living creature within 30 feet of an echinodaemon dies, it heals a number of hit points equal to 5 x that creature’s Hit Dice. Any healing in excess of its maximum hit points is lost. Infernal Wound (Su) A creature struck by an echinodaemon’s tentacle attack takes 2 points of bleed damage each round. Bleed dealt by an infernal wound is difficult to stanch—it requires a DC 19 Heal check to stop the damage, and any attempt to heal a creature suffering from an infernal would requires a DC 19 caster level check or the spell is wasted. Success indicates that the healing works normally and stops all bleed effects on the victim.