#shakesinshake

[spindlehorse]

>:3c @shakesinshake

[royalreef]

@abracafockyou​ / @shakesinshake​ inquired:  🐶 may I ask for either striker or any oc on this blog you might like? Muses as Merfolk - (Very Selectively) Accepting

(( I think Striker would be best suited as one of the “Vampire” merfolk, which I’ve written about before here! I need to go back over their information again, as some isn’t quite up-to-date anymore, since I rehash and refine my lore a lot. Other parts are still accurate : heterodont dentition with larger pointed teeth at the front for grabbing and broader cusped teeth towards the back for slicing, slit pupils, dull colors that are often dappled, more equal tail flukes, fused earfins, their history compared to other merfolk, and so on. The same goes for them having relatively small settlements that easily end up wiped off the map due to some royal’s own personal wishes or plans that they just ended up in the way of.

That said, one thing I don’t think I’ve mentioned here before is the fact that they’re actually fairly commonly employed by Merkingdom royals for less savory jobs. The reason is two part — no one cares if one of them ends up in trouble or goes missing entirely, and they aren’t exactly in a position to say no to any royals that might position them for jobs. Even with anyone less than that royal, saying no to what they’re asking is highly taboo and often enforced via not-so-subtle taking care of anyone who refuses them, but when you struggle to survive or last through a system that ultimately wants you and your community dead, well... There’s seldom any other options. If a royal were to, say, put a hit out for someone they were married to due to failing to fulfill their duties and their image, then... A jrh’yhwa’t wouldn’t really have many other options, unless they had some way to pull rank on the royal.

It’s also not unlikely that a royal might arm their hitman with whatever they need for the job, potentially using their own resources to ensure it gets done right.

“Guns” for merfolk hold little in common with our conception of the weapon, and it’s a poor translation for what accounts far moreso for a portable cannon. Projectile weapons are hard to come by underwater. Even when you do find them, they’re often inaccurate, or just don’t work at all, and merfolk are universally fairly good at absorbing shock. Most of the reason why common weapons are bladed are just due to how much easier they are to produce as well as how much more effective they are in hurting another merfolk. So, merfolk “guns” are far closer in operation to how a mantis shrimp’s claw works, capable of launching a super-heated bubble that can blow a hole in the side of whatever you aim it at. For this, they’re remarkably hard to come by, often needing various connections alongside permits and someone to petition in the court system that you can have such a thing. For this, any single “gun” often ends up highly custom-made for their owner to begin with, as anyone who has rank enough to have one often has the same resources and a personal desire to tailor it to their liking.

Wide-brim hats are very much just a very unusual aesthetic choice underwater.

[stolasofthegoetia]

When: Post Helluva Boss Episode 5 Where: Hell - Striker’s Place With: Striker @shakesinshake​

The lodgings were, well, he supposed humble would be a generous word. It hadn’t taken too long before some of the more competent soldiers from one of his legions had tracked down the Stiker who’d made such a record for himself at the Harvest Festival. They’d been willing, and quite able, to deal with the imp but Stolas had stayed them, preferring to deal with his would-be killer himself. 

He made himself quite at home in the less than stellar surroundings, waiting for the imp to return from no-doubt another killing call. He brushed his talons over the furniture, a kitchen counter; half tempted to snoop in the cupboards. But he never got the chance as the door was opened.

Stolas wasn’t looking at the entrance, but between his Goetic abilities and avian characteristics, his spatial awareness was some of the best in all the circles; there was no hiding from him. 

“You know,” he began talking casually, charmingly, certain the imp could hear him, “I must admit that, despite your impressive performance at the Harvest Festival, I was much too enthralled with my Blitzy to pay you much attention. More fool me, hmm?” he asked lightly, “My apologies for taking so long to give you your dues, Mr. Striker. It’s just such a shame you’re wasting considerable talent on an impossible task: trying to kill me.” he chuckled, “Oh, and don’t lurk in your own doorway, it’s rude.” 

[velcake]

@shakesinshake​

👑  hi ,  sugar !!  

👑  want  a  ride  home ? 

[blitzrodeo]

    With an answer like that? Blitzo wished his question had just been rhetorical instead because he’s uncrossing his ankles and placing both feet on the ground, jumping from his seat that his weight makes the chair he’d been settled on fall over. Oh damn it all! Out of all the answers, it had to be that? It’s too late.

    He’s upset and he picks up the nearest thing; proceeding to assault his ‘ comrade ’ with the lukewarm coffee from his mug. ❛ Yer’ a downright fiddlehead scoundrel is what ye’ are! ❜ What’s been disclosed is a case that had long passed, but that mischievous grin just makes things so much worse. ❛ How could ye’ do that?! To make ‘em suffer! It ain’t right! ❜

❛ pursue ` @shakesinshake​ .♦

[spindlehorse]

TIMELINE: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE CIRCUS!BLITZO

・・・★ ┊Why didn’t his mother warn him that a kiss under the blood red moon is a dangerous and deadly thing to do? Because he’d never felt loved and filled with dread at the same time that the air in his lungs could suffocate him. The touch of a gentle beak against his lips that turned him to stone until reality came flooding back to his person when Stolas looked at him and their handsome smile fell. He knew. They both knew, that they were not meant to be.

      Stolas I —... I would give ye’ my heart but it… it already belongs to someone else.

He recalled the silence being deafening and the tightness in his chest mixed with fear and heartbreak. The unspoken terror of denying a prince their wishes being practically suicide! But as soon as the silence had come it was gone after another kiss, on his forehead this time and the spot on the rooftop that Stolas had sat upon sheathed in ice.

Blitzo cried himself to sleep. Were they still friends at least? He didn’t know and that’s what scared him the most until Striker left him hanging on the trapeze.

He was quick to recover with another form, pushing down the vile that threatened to shoot up his throat. Perhaps he thought too much? People get tired. People don’t always smile. People eventually leave but, before he’s able to steal another glance at the cowboy amidst the crowd his performance was over and the spotlight was blinding.

Blitzo collected a bouquet and hurried off backstage, clutching the flowers in his arms as some sort of security blanket as he began his search for the familiar palette of sand and red rock. When he finds Striker he feels the same trepidation he felt with Stolas but deciding to ignore it and reason the notion off as nothing but anxiety from last night Blitzo put on his best smile and approached.

    ❛ We tired t’day, partner? ❜ He starts, walking up and leaning over to give the other a kiss on the cheek.

・・・★ ┊ @shakesinshake​

[spindlehorse]

・・・★ ┊In spite of having taken a tumble for far too many times than he can count, the brief surge of sudden panic still rears its head around the corner. He slips out of the silk ribbons without meaning to, losing his grip and falling some feet trying as he might to catch himself on the fabric. He shreds through both and tears one off completely from the broken seams and then he’s free falling, preparing to hit the ground and pick up an injury or two.

Blitzo finds himself with his head still reeling from the failed routine and his heart beating quickly from the adrenaline simmering down from his fall. What he makes out through the dimly lit stage of the Big Top Tent is the distinct emerald and amber gaze of his daring confidant before he’s kissing them hard.

They’re on the floor as the silk drapes over them while they’re tangled in each other’s bodies. The touch of his lips hot against Striker’s. His fingers running over a defined chest. When he pulls away he moves to straddle his lover, his hands finding the surface of the stage on either side of the cowboy’s head. He sighs, a look of fondness appearing on his face. ❛ Should I keep going? ❜

@shakesinshake​

[hazbinxdisaster]

ask memes || accepting

@shakesinshake​ asked: 💔 for Blitz???

4. a  bloody  kiss.

“FUCK YOU.” The words are snarled out, sharp claws digging into the front of Striker’s shirt and roughly tugging him forward. They’re both covered in blood, battered and bruised from their brawl. Blood trickling from his mouth as he surged forward to press a kiss to the cowboy’s lips. Without hesitation he BITES down on his lower lip, tasting copper on his tongue that has him GROWLING in desire.