#hel got asks

[hel-phoenyx]

Hello🤚🚨Urgent call🚨🚨🥺😔

I am Ibrahim a father of three children🥺

We have been living in a tent for many months due to the war on Gaza😔, and we suffer from homelessness, extreme heat, and famine.My children suffered from skin infections due to pollution in the tents.

Donate to us and help us live a better life🥺

https://gofund.me/11525cb3

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[aquaquadrant]

How would htp!Tango go with the bit from Limited Life episode 4 when he's running from everyone?

How would it be different from the actual scene?

(not canon to HTP ofc because the timelines don’t match up but HEY i like angst)

"tango!" skizz calls desperately, peering out over the ocean. he could’ve sworn he’d heard tango’s voice when he came this way, but the range of amplification their voices get from the proximity mod can be a little tricky sometimes-

“skizz?”

tango’s voice crackles out of skizz’s communicator; he must be in range, after all. but skizz doesn’t relax just yet. crouching by the water’s edge, he scans the waves intently. his grip tightens around his axe.

"alright, where are you, dude?" he asks, voice low. he keeps the horizon in his periphery; he can just barely make out the horde of yellow names off on the distant shore, digging and searching for tango.

“r- right below you.” tango’s voice is shaky; probably from the adrenaline. being hunted by almost the entire server isn’t exactly a picnic. “where- is impulse with you? or- or etho?”

skizz shakes his head, even though he knows tango can’t see it. “no dude, they’re running interference, okay, but it won’t be long before the others see me over here.” he swallows. “you gotta let me kill you.”

there’s a brief silence.

“okay.” tango’s voice is barely audible. the tone of it gives skizz pause; that sounds like more than just nerves. “okay, o- okay, fine, i’m- i’m fine with that.”

“are you?” skizz asks, his brows furrowing.

“i…” there’s a shuddering exhale. “i don’t- i’d rather it be you, if- if i’m honest. the others, they might…” he breaks off, making a distressed sound in the back of his throat. “y- you know.”

there’s definitely something wrong. skizz’s heart is starting to pound, but he keeps his voice steady. “alright, yeah. this is gonna stick it to them so bad.” he lifts his communicator up and peers through its lens. “can you give me a quick tag, buddy?”

tango doesn’t reply, but skizz sees the flash of a gamer tag beneath the ocean before it vanishes again. tango’s not taking any chances, apparently. not that skizz can blame him.

“you’re pretty deep underwater, dude,” skizz informs him regretfully. “and i don’t- ugh, i don’t have my stupid shovel.”

tango inhales sharply. “i- i can’t- uh, can you…?”

“okay,” skizz murmurs. he knows tango won’t be harmed by water like a real blaze, but it’s uncomfortable even on the best of days and that’d be a lot to ask of him right now. “alright, i’ll come to you. stay put, okay?”

“okay,” tango whispers.

“there a hole for me, buddy?” skizz asks, putting his axe away.

“yes.”

“alright.” skizz straightens up, folding his wing tightly against his body. even one wing will cause a lot of drag underwater and he’s already not looking forward to soggy feathers. “i’m on my way, just hang on.”

taking a deep breath, skizz dives into the ocean.

salt stings his eyes as he swims towards the sand at the bottom. it’s darker down here than he’s expecting for midday, only the faint glow from his halo allowing him to see. he starts digging as soon as he reaches the bottom, hoping he’s in the right place. he’s acutely aware of how long he can hold his breath for and the last thing he needs is a stupid drowning death to steal even more time from him-

a figure enters his field of vision, making him jolt. it’s scott, his freshly yellow timer barely visible in the deep. still holding his breath, skizz equips his axe.

scott actually rolls his eyes. “i’m not gonna kill him, don’t worry.” his voice carries well underwater, and he doesn’t seem to have trouble breathing. must be due to those recently acquired gills of his.

well, that’s fortunate. skizz nods quickly and puts his axe away before resuming his digging. to his surprise, scott floats down next to him and starts helping, his webbed fingers making easy work of the sand. after a couple seconds, they’ve cleared enough sand for skizz to see a hold in the underlying stone, with a faint light beyond it. lungs burning, skizz dives for it.

he makes it through right as the first damage hits him, head breaking through the water with a gasp. kicking against the current, he finally emerges from the ocean. gravity once again takes hold of him. he flops onto the damp stone floor quite ungracefully, his wing heavy and pulling him slightly off-balance.

skizz hauls himself to his feet, dripping wet and catching his breath, and looks around the cave tango’s carved out for himself. it’s tiny, with just three blocks between them, and lit only by the glow of tango’s blaze rods. they’re redder than usual and roaring with flames, whirling above his head in agitation- the way a blaze spins before it starts shooting fireballs.

tango himself doesn’t seem to be doing any better. he’s crouched against a corner, his arms wrapped around his knees, claws digging into his skin. his pupils are blown, so much so that it almost makes his wide eyes look completely black. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, and the noise that comes with each breath sounds disturbingly like a blaze. his mouth hangs slightly parted as he pants, lips drawn back to show his sharp teeth- like a wolf does. but there’s no ferocity in his expression; just sick fear.

altogether, the sight sends a chill down skizz’s spine. it’s like he’s looking at an animal; a cornered, terrified, wild animal. there have been things in the past tango’s reacted strangely to, sure, but skizz has never seen it this bad before. god, he wishes impulse was here.

“hey, tango,” skizz says softly.

for a moment, tango just stares at skizz. then his eyes dart to the side, to the hole in the stone. belatedly, skizz realizes what’s got tango so concerned.

“scott,” he calls carefully, keeping his gaze on tango, “just uh, just stay out there, okay, dude?”

a dark shadow passes by the hole before vanishing. “you’re fine, just get on with it!”

skizz swallows. he stays where he is. “tango, buddy, you okay? talk to me.”

tango’s gaze cuts back to skizz. “is martyn…?”

“no, no martyn,” skizz assures him.

tango takes a shaky breath. “i killed him,” he says hoarsely. “he- he’ll want revenge. and- and the other yellows- you have to kill me, before they find me. skizz, please.”

“hey, hey, hey, it’s alright,” skizz soothes, despite the way his heart feels like it’s twisting itself into a knot. he never thought tango would fear the other players so badly; these are his friends. “you got it. what do you- uh, how do you want me to do it?”

“TNT?” tango asks quietly. “if you light it…”

“alright, yeah, i got some TNT,” skizz says, rummaging through his inventory and pulling out a block of it. “here, uh- you wanna just take that?”

warily, tango teaches a clawed hand out and takes the TNT. he sets it down right in front of him, flush against his folded knees.

“tango?” skizz prompts gently, pulling out his flint and steel. “i need to hear you say it, buddy.”

tango shudders. “do it,” he whispers, turning his face away. “you can kill me, you- i- i just want it to be over.”

“okay, thank you,” skizz murmurs, taking a cautious step forward. “that’s right, dude. after this, it’ll all be over. i’ll come find you at spawn, okay?”

“okay."

“i’ll see ya there. now, count to five for me?"

tango swallows. “one…”

skizz lights the TNT. the sound of sizzling fills the air as the TNT starts to flash.

"t- two..."

putting the flint and steel away, skizz turns and dives back through the hole, into the ocean. tango's voice still sounds from his communicator.

"three..."

kicking madly, skizz swims towards the surface, where scott is waiting.

"four-"

BOOM.

skizz breaks the surface, gasping for breath. he glances back down and sees a new crater at the bottom of the ocean, water and sand churning into a froth. treading water with one arm, he holds his communicator up and looks at the chat.

Tango blew up.

scott gives skizz a sidelong look. "i know how hard it is to let a teammate kill you," he says, his voice low, "but that seemed..."

"scott, buddy," skizz says tiredly, heading for the shore, "keep this between us, will ya?"

~

[hulloitsdani]

*scratches at your writing itch more* c’mon give us more about your writing give us that good ol’ fashioned yapping

LETS FREAKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Ahem.

So if you are a tag reader and have existed on my blog for an extended period of time, then you may recall me mentioning that I really should go on a rant about Loki. Multiple times even. And there is a good reason for that— she is one of the most interesting characters to analyze and write for in feh.

That might seem like an odd claim, but you must remember that your reliable narrator finds immense joy in writing for Kiran fire emblem. Kiran is fun for a few reasons, but the work loop is what really sells it. There is a character beyond the self insert, but it must be found and then extrapolated back. Detective work goes into their analysis and then more free form creativity is employed to inflict that personality back onto the narrative. Loki provides a similar experience. She’s an almost equally blank slate. Harsh comparison considering Kiran is a non entity of a self insert, but true nonetheless. Currently, as of the very start of book 9, Loki is not much of a character. I hope to be proven wrong in the near future, but right now that is the case.

The issue can most easily be broken down into one core question: what does Loki want? No, seriously, what does she want? She’s the only reoccurring character in which we have no idea about anything that drives her. You might argue that this is supposed to be part of her mystique, but then I’d argue that you don’t understand what builds mystique. You know who also had mystique? Líf and Thrasir, Læraðor and the Healing Hands, Gullvieg, and about every other antagonistic force whose full motives were not initially clear. Just because we did not know the full extent of what drove them, did not mean that we didn’t get a sense of something they wanted. The most common thing these antagonists want is to kill our heroes, which is why conflict arises in the first place.

What does Loki want in comparison? To cause Chaos™️? That is a cop-out in the same way writing Harley Quinn as just a crazy random lady is. It is an excuse to not write a consistent character and just hoping that surface level aesthetics will carry everything on its emancipated shoulders. To what end does Loki want to cause chaos? For what reasons? What could possibly stand in her way? What conflict could arise from that? Every other character has straight forward answers to these basic questions, but even after 8 seasons of this narrative, we still don’t have anything for this lady. And that’s a blatant flaw of FEH. Which is a shame, because as I was digging to find ways to fill the gaps, some genuinely interesting ideas came up.

This starts with the FEH’s pantheon. It is a vital part of the narrative’s themes of loneliness, isolation, and connection. Being the villains 80% of the time, they are often a pure distillation of the long term effects of isolation. Hel is a fascinating introduction to this idea that gains more intrigue in retrospect. Unlike every divine encounter after her, she is the sole god we meet in book 3. It’s an unspoken rule, but they typically arise in contrasting pairs. Askr and Embla, Nifl and Múspell, Freyr and Freya, etc. It is revealed that Hel was not an exception to this rule, but had successfully killed her equal and opposite of Ymir long before she ever set foot in Askr. With no one left to naturally counter her, she’s been fueling her endless need for more power free of natural consequence. Without life, death has gone utterly power mad. Upon her throne of corpses, she is entirely isolated and free to view every breathing being as lesser. To really drive this home, they reveal that her only connection to a living thing, Eir, to be a lie. She is a need for power, left by itself to rot.

Then we have the siblings Freyr and Freya, who were implied to be the weird black sheep of the pantheon and thus only had each other. Freyr is notedly one of the few non antagonistic gods and this correlates with his apparent social life. He talks to people! Regularly! According to Peony, anytime anyone has any issue in the realm of dreams, they go to him. He has taken the time to build a community and make himself the beating heart of it. He’s getting some god damn therapy. Good for him! Freya has unfortunately done no such thing and hasn’t moved on from the harm inflicted upon them in the past. She has power, beauty, and fame, but Freyr is still the only person she has. But now, the reverse is no longer true and he’s pulling further away. This nags at the long standing wound of never being accepted and Freya sees this as rejection from the one person in this horrible cruel world who wasn’t supposed to do that to her. Everything goes to hell from there. This need for acceptance is left by itself to rot.

Now, this was supposed to be a discussion of Loki, no? Why bring this up? Well, it’s because she’s an oddity. Hel, Freya, and Freyr generally define the types of gods we see from this point onwards. We either got isolated and rocking it (Hel, Múspell), isolated and crying in the club (Freya, Gullveig, Nifl), or finally getting some god damn therapy for the isolation but ultimately not being able to fully escape it in time (Freyr, Askr). Loki is not quite any of these things. And as I was trying to rationalize why there was an exception to this theme I found, it dawned on me— it’s not that she isn’t any of these things, it’s that she’s on the verge of becoming one of them. What makes Loki unique among the pantheon is that she’s the only god we see meeting and connecting with people throughout the narrative. That’s the point. Nothing has begun to rot yet. Her powers are shapeshifting and pretending to be a person, because she’s actually on the verge of potentially becoming one.

Let’s use her dynamic with Veronica as an example. Loki genuinely likes Veronica. She finds the girl silly and cute. However, she had alterer motives from the moment they met, as she was still working for Surtr at the time and befriended the young princess so that she could be ultimately sacrificed to the rite of flames. And even outside of that, she needed her help to begin the Tempest. It was a lie from the start, and yet, Loki gives our protagonists an opening to save her. That’s fascinating. She does not value Veronica’s life or wellbeing above her schemes, but she likes her enough to actively go out of her way to give her a chance. If I didn’t know any better, that’s a fascinating set up for a long term character conflict. Loki, the chaotic trickster god plotting to bring change and ruin, vs Loki, a quirky shapeshifter lady teaching Princess Veronica funny little tricks like how to heal paper cuts and not lose her breakfast when quickly dimension hoping to the realm of the dead.

That’s so god damn fun and is a version of the character that would bring so much life to the narrative. But it’s not really what we got and might not be what we ultimately get either. And that’s okay, I’m pretty down for whatever they choose to do. But until then, Your Honor, hit that trickster god with an identity crisis. Hit her with the silly beam. Let the two tacticians hang out and be kinda toxic besties. What could go wrong? Oh, there’s a character named Baldur? Surely this won’t result in a chain of events that culminates in the end of the world.

[mistfallengw2]

So, for those of you who do alt-parking with your characters, I wanna know if that's something that you worked into their story!

[ladychandraofthemoone]

I have some questions for Stanley do you ever have flashbacks and nightmares of the war? If so how bad do they tend to get? do you have some sort of comfort item or like a little safe space for you?

Stanley: *looks awkwardly away* Well-yeah kinda, like I’ve struggled with severe anxiety, the amount of panic and anxiety attacks I’ve gotten especially after Kyle’s death, and my jinx definitely didn’t help me out, well some days I have nightmares on that day or when-him-constantly berating me and calling me all sorts of horrid things or when my old manager before I came to the msr-

But Nia and Freddie, they also know-what’s it’s like- I mean they did sortave kindave taught me everything they know(like Kyle)-They’re were both so funny and tried their hardest to made me laugh and smile and they didn’t criticize or berate me when I’ve cried or made mistakes started talking about bugs and stayed awake with me when I had trouble falling asleep (insomnia I hate you so much) since they also had trouble sleeping…

Nia spoke a lot about her old home in South Africa 🇿🇦 like the animals living there and she told me stories and she sung me a lullaby in Xhosa? Zulu? I believe (and I’ve memorized it by heart) to help soothe my fears, we talked a lot about animals together even spend time at her flower garden and Freddie always tries to get me to race him though it’s more of a doubleheader with him being goofy and telling me a bunch of silly things heh.

The others have also helped me.. I mean Stuart, Falcon and Andreas worked all day to try and help me with my jinx and Andreas did apologize to me for suggesting I would be better off as a generator (though that’s not a terrible idea, I’ll keep it in mind and that’s not the most horrible thing I’ve been told to do-….)

And- and *he gives a slight hopeful grin* Duke and Toby did help me get rid of my jinx and well-I feel so happy *gently chuckles*I’ve haven’t felt this much… freedom in years…it’s.its exhilarating (kyle should be alive not me-)

Ah-sorry for rambling I admit I don’t exactly have a comforting item or memento unless you count the Little Rock’s and geodes or herbs and flowers Nia, Freddie and I find together, and I love being in Nia’s flower garden, there’s a track nearby the forest where I get to look at the constellations 🌌 and the stars since Nia and Kyle told me so much if that’s a comfort space to say-well as long as its not raining or the weather is too much it’s comforting to me…

[laymedowntorest]

How would your ocs react to horror movies? If they like candy, what's their favorite kind? What's their favorite halloween activity, if they celebrate it?

Also setting a ghost LOOSE in your INBOX /j /lh

I've just played the Ghostbusters campaign on l4d2 I can face a ghost UvU

How would your ocs react to horror movies? I imagine the only one who'd not really like them is Hel. Max she can do is like Corpse Bride and The Nightmare Before Christmas Ronnie and Dougal would find some a bit uncomfortable depending on the subject matter but he'd stomach old corny films lmao. Teu can handle the heavy shit and barely flinch, it takes a lot to scare them

If they like candy, what's their favorite kind? This is a bit difficult because there's a huge leap in british and american sweets lmao Ronnie would prefer imported stuff. He, and Luther (likely Luther's brothers too), think American sweets are god awful. Hel and Dougal like toffee apples! Teu probabllyyy jawbreakers or some sort of gum

What's their favorite halloween activity, if they celebrate it? Hel is decorating/giving candy Ronnie is drinking with shitty films on and having take out Dougal likes giving out candy Teu likes giving out candy (funnily enough lmao) Luther likes dress up and drinking

For Dusk, since this is the only thing bot related she could do, it's seeing the kids dress up and play around. I imagine she'd also act like...a "practice" door so to speak? Like for an activity Sun would make kids knock on the "door" for her to open and she'd give them candy lmao

[n4b3]

.

[dulcewrites]

My heart 💔 for fmo reader I don't like this but yeah mamas heart completely broken it would kill her. Aemond is definitely dead to her if it happened while in old town he's on her list too among others. Now I do like queen daella and daemon meeting his end at her hands as well.

You killed my mother/brother prepare to die

Queen consort daella who has lost everyone would be so good. Bc it would be in tandem with egg 3, who is also a traumatized kid who lost his mom. And the dynamic would only be more interesting if the only real adult left from it all is Daemon bc daella just knows. She may not have proof but she knows. I think there would be ‘fun’ tension between her and egg bc they honestly have so much in common and really no reason to hate each other (this was never their fight), but she can never fully let herself be his friend/eventual lover/confidant whatever they maybe bc of his father.

That being said, she is equal parts of her father and mother, so she can be ruthless and burn hot at times, but she is extremely self aware with how she moves.

[verdiesque]

Gin Ichimaru for the character bingo 👀

Hel my love are you sitting in my brain because I was literally just thinking about him.

Characters who sacrifice everything for revenge and ruin their life in the process my beloved <3 literally I eat that shit up every time. I rewatched the episodes with his death the other day and bawled like a child. Traitor of all time I love him so so much.

[helielune]

number of outfit items i am (currently) emotionally attached to and am (currently) extremely aware of the previous existence of, which have since mysteriously vanished (so far): 3

[hel-phoenyx]

Hello 🖐

I am Amira from Gaza😢, living in constant danger due to the ongoing war. I noticed that you have many followers, and I kindly ask you to share my story to help us find safety🙏🙏.

Sharing my story and the donation campaign link can help protect my family. I am deeply grateful for your support💙.

With sincere thanks,

Amira

[aquaquadrant]

hi i had an idea but it would not work out in hels canon at all so. consider an alternate alternate universe where there’s a decked out hels counterpart? maybe it’s a sentient dungeon near spawn designed to lure people into a false sense of security and perhaps bravo is the creator of it… or the bait? other game component ideas like peace(hazard) or stillness(clank)

hehe i’m just spitballing silly ideas to you for fun >:) sorry if you’ve received an ask like this before

:0 now this is an interesting (non-canon ofc) concept. bravo would absolutely make a decked out in hels just to one-up tango. but since he’s annoyed and fatigued by the brutality of hels, he wouldn’t just make a more intense, deadly decked out: he’d make it an escape. a sprawling map safe from the outside world, filled with beautiful scenery and fun puzzles and some damn peace and quiet for once.

but what he didn’t anticipate is that the dungeon can take on a mind of its own, and this one would want to keep players ‘safe’ forever and ever- by never letting anyone leave. it’d do its best to make players want to stay, but it’s not above trapping them if it has to.

timmy would 100% fall victim to the dungeon, happy to finally be safe and provided for. he’d even try to discourage other hels players from staying- not as a warning, but for his own sake. he doesn’t want more hels players ruining his sanctuary, even at the cost of incurring the dungeon’s wrath.

it’s like the opposite of @hybbart’s deepfrost cast au, where jimmy acts as a dungeon guide. timmy would be a territorial (but still pathetic) herald of doom, desperately trying to get hels players to leave this apparent ‘paradise’ before it’s too late (because he wants this place all to himself, thank you very much).

[iheartcborle]

yk wdamhn welle i wont force eit ouats of ysou cuz s nost msy jsob but LSO bur vevery clealry not okay if youre upset talks abst it or atelsst ssay sso we BEENE TRHRORUGH THSI SMY GUYS DENIAL WHELEPS WWNOBDODYSHGJDVIYGUO

'm not upset, I'm okay. Not in denial either. 'm allll good. -Orin Scrivello

[sp0o0kylights]

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?” 

“Family emergency.” 

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?” 

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging. 

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.” 

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence. 

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.) 

 “Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.”  Lucas finishes as he finally sits down. 

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both. 

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms. 

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.” 

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later. 

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then. 

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts. 

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation. 

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic. 

“What was that, Wheeler?” 

“I’m just saying--!” 

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.” 

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it. 

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh. 

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.” 

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!” 

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that. 

To Eddie, she says; 

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?” 

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!) 

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM. 

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

 “If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to  Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out. 

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning. 

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps. 

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains. 

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max. 

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”  

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again. 

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain. 

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off. 

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off. 

Made another couple of nasty comments. 

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas. 

“Dude, would you lay off?”  The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table. 

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare. 

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.) 

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down. 

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.” 

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?” 

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!” 

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room. 

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty. 

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard! 

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs. 

“We absolutely did not.” 

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?” 

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up. 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination. 

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room. 

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.” 

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely. 

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.” 

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands 

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him. 

“Exactly.” 

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.” 

“I--”

“Will does too.”  Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence. 

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head. 

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth. 

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff. 

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage. 

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.

[enigmaris]

All Father Thor, King of Asgard,

A new ruler of Hel has been chosen, the fearsome King Phantom, defeater of Pariah Dark. It is time for Asgard to prepare to pay the dues required to keep peace between the realms of the gods and of the dead. Bring the terms of your surrender to King’s Phantom’s representative on earth, Daniel James Fenton of Amity Park.

The Noble Scribe of King Phantom,

Ghost Writer

*****

“Okay so let me get this straight,” Tony Stark, Iron Man and Avenger said. “Ghosts are real.”

“Yes.” King Thor Odinson, Asgardian and god of thunder agreed.

“And they’re evil.”

“A bit of an oversimplification, but yes.” Prince Loki Odinson, sometimes villain and would be planet invader, answered.

“And the ghosts have had one ruler, the most powerful ghost in existence. And that new rulers are chosen by combat, meaning that every new ruler is more powerful than the last.”

“Yes, you’ve got the idea.” Thor said looking down at his knees for a moment.

“And since ghosts are so evil and so powerful, that means that their ruler is practically an unstoppable force of destruction.”

“Doesn’t it sound delightful?” Loki asked, to which he received a glare.

“So, for the past 10,000 years, at least, Asgard and plenty of other realms have been paying taxes to the ghost king to avoid a war. A racketeering scheme.”

“I don’t know what a racketeering scheme is but yes, the ghost peace treaty does require that Asgard pay the ghost king gold and magical weapons every century and if we fail to pay that price, then the peace treaty will be broken and Asgard will likely be forfeit.”

“That’s a racketeering scheme!”

“Well then yes.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. It was clear the man’s headache was only growing stronger as he walked through the information the two gods had dumped into his lap this morning. Thor and Loki both had rushed into his lab and started babbling about world ending threats and how they might possibly be absolutely screwed.

“So, now there’s a new king. Which means a new peace treaty has to be signed.” Tony said the words ‘peace treaty’ in the same way he’d say ‘nuclear bomb’ or ‘Steve Rogers’.

“I thought you said it was a racketeering scheme?” Loki asked.

“Shut it.” Tony hissed.

“A new treaty must be signed.” Thor repeated, trying to keep the three of them on track.

“And since the last king Pariah Dark was so powerful that he made the entirety of Asgard tremble, you’re pretty sure this new king, Phantom, is probably worse.”

“Pariah Dark had the power to suck entire planets into the afterlife, destroying them,” Loki said looking at his nails. “Stands to reason that a ghost powerful enough to defeat him could do much, much worse.”

“Right. Fantastic!” Tony practically shouted.

“I don’t think anything about this is fantastic.” Thor admitted, he was ignored.

“And according to you Asgard has been paying the ghost tax for both their realm and ours since we were under Odin’s protection. And since Hela and Sutur destroyed your entire planet and your entire people are refugees, now we have to figure out how to keep an ultrapowerful ghost from wiping out our home without any way of paying him.”

“Technically we don’t know if Phantom is a ‘he’.” Loki pointed out unhelpfully.

“The letter literally says he’s a king!”

“Could be a title. What do the dead have need for gender?”

“This is not the point of this discussion,” Thor cut in before an argument about the usefulness of gender and the concept of a female king burst forth. “We’re here to figure out how to make peace with King Phantom without resulting in a war that would destroy our world and our peoples.”

“We don’t even have Earth’s mightiest heroes anymore.” Loki said, referencing the painful results of the civil war and the Accords.

“We’re fucked.” Tony decided.

“Yes,” Thor agreed. “We probably are.”

[reidmania]

blackfish | spencer reid

summary; being in the early stages of your relationship, spencer has yet to hear your passionate rambles, until you watch a documentary together and the topic of animals in captivity comes up.

warnings; fluff, so much fluff fem!reader, early seasons spencer, marine biology major!reader, start of relationship things, talking about animal abuse, animals in captivity, talks about orca’s and the documentary blackfish (i know the time line is unrealistic use ur imagination please)

an; self indulgent as a marine biology major and someone very passionate about the fact animals should not be used as apart of a circus act. Very very short, and sweet.

Your legs were resting over Spencer’s, the heels of your feet pressing against the side of the couch arm, while his hands massaged the skin of your calf gently, the credits to the documentary you had spent the last hour and a half watching together rolling over the tv. His hands were gentle and hesitate in every one of the movements, a little shy.

“Did you like it?” He asked, turning his head to look at you, thumb pressing against a tender muscle in your calf, the sensation causing a soft sigh of relaxation throughout your body, which contradicted the annoyance that had been filling you as the film went on.

You hummed, unsure of how to answer the question. “It was interesting.” You mumbled out, your head rolling to press against the back of the couch cushions. He smiled slightly as his hands continued to work out the tension in your legs.

“Yeah?” He hummed out. You nodded, interesting was a safe way to describe your feelings on the documentary you had watched. It wasn’t that it was bad, it wasn’t at all. And you had been interested, the entire time. Just the more the details were revealed the sicker the feeling got in your stomach.

He shuffled slightly, “What are you thinking about?” He asked, his hands pausing their massaging movements to instead rub gently over the smoothness of your skin. Obviously he had noticed the slightly sour look on your face and the way your mind seemed elsewhere.

“How horrible the human species are.” You answered honestly although you were aware Spencer was already aware of this fact. He worked to stop all the horrible things the human species did everyday. He witnessed it firsthand.

“Annoyed?” He asked. You nodded.

You shuffled slightly, pulling your legs away from where they had been resting over his thighs to sit up a little straighter, tucking your knees underneath you as your hands came to rest on your thighs.

“I don’t understand how anyone can look at animals in aquariums or even animal’s in zoo’s and think that it’s just.. okay?” You huffed out, annoyance lacing your tone as you spoke, every word coming out just as disgusted as the last. “i mean— These are wild animals and people act so shocked when they act like wild animals. Like that poor orca had been put through hell since the age of two— ripped away from his family and everything he knew, starved, beat up by other orca’s all for what? A quick buck?” You huffed out in frustration.

Spencer hadn’t expected the ramble but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome, your voice was laced with so much passion and intent, every word that left your lips showed how deeply you had thought about this. He had hummed in response, not wanting to interrupt.

“Marine mammals — they are isolated more in captivity than they aren’t which is absolutely insane since every aspect of their being is based on their social and emotional connections— I mean they have a whole part of the brain that human’s don’t have thats dedicated to their emotional bonds. Which means they feel everything probably double the amount that we do” You continued in frustration as your arms came to wrap around your stomach, and irritated pout on your lips.

Spencer raised his eyebrow but nodded, you were right. “They don’t belong in captivity” He agreed simply, you nodded passionately in response to what he had said. He couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face as you rambled, because this had never happened before. Normally you were pretty quiet, not in a way that you were shy or awkward, you just didn’t ramble a lot, not like he did. This was a nice change and he couldn’t help the way his heart swarmed at the sight of you getting all worked up over something you felt passionately for. He would listen to everything you had to say, and a million times more.

“It’s— so gross. Like it genuinely makes me feel sick how they take these animals away from their families and then exploit them for money. Like dolphins — Teach them tricks and then act like it’s just an extension of their natural behaviours — it’s not. You know marine mammals in captivity die way earlier than marine mammals in their natural habitats? Especially Orca’s. Orca’s could live up to 100 or even more and they hardly make it to 30 in captivity.” You huffed out.

“I didn’t know that” He did.

“And Orca’s— Oh my gosh. Each family speaks in their own set of vocalisations, no two families will communicate the same way. They literally have their own languages. And— and people want to throw Orca’s from different pods together in a pool and call them a family? They can’t even communicate with each other, or understand each other at all!! You know that can lead to aggression between Orca’s? Nearly half of Orca’s deaths in captivity is because of a different whale being too aggressive—“ You paused when you finally realised you were rambling.

Your cheeks burnt at the realisation, meeting Spencer’s eyes which were filled with nothing but love and admiration only furthered the burning sensation in your cheeks. “Sorry.” You huffed out sheepishly. “I got a bit carried away” you let out a laugh.

He shook his head instantly, his hand reaching out to rest gently against your knee, “No. Don’t apologise. Keep talking, what were you going to say?” He asked, almost desperately begging you to continue on with your passionate ramble, continued to further discover this side of you.

“I-“ you started but your brain short circuited at the look in his eye, pleading, sweet, gentle, loving, admiring. How could he look at you like that and expect you to be able to form a coherent sentence — you could hardly form a coherent thought. “I- forgot.” You huffed out.

He smiled widely, “Whales being too aggressive which can lead to that frustration being taken out on other whales, especially if they feel challenged or uncomfortable.” He finished for you, making your smile widen.

“You’re so smart” you huffed the compliment as if he wasn’t told it so often. He didn’t mind, it always meant more coming from you.

“Go on, angel. What else do you have for me?”