#Nathan Stiff

[mendelsohnben]

Jack Robinson Perching™ 

[red-balloon12]

I FINALLY finished my redesigns (probably final idk) for my Magical Girl!AU of Natemare and Phantom. I’m not sure when I’ll start working one the story but at least you know what they (mostly) look like. I’ll be making a full scale version of the redesigns….soon. And if anyone wants to redraw this and add their own little spin to it, be my guest!

[andrwgarfields]

the bastard son and the devil himself is sooooo good?? if you like supernaturalish stuff, some action some gore a wee bit of sweet moments then do try it!!! i love the pacing as well, it doesn’t overwhelm you with too much information/context, you discover it bit by bit, theres enough action to pull you thru and some chill moments that is still entertaining!

[ch1maeras]

@myriaed // @calibns

ADAM DRIVER | GIRLS 4.06

[tokiwarcube]

How are the boys when their s/o is away on a trip for a while? Like which ones call constantly? Which ones are calm? Any have separation anxiety?

This was fun to think about, and very well timed! +Charles as well -- Enjoy! <3

Charles Foster Offdensen

Have fun for him, won’t you? Charles will absolutely miss you while you’re gone — with the lives you share, you don’t always have too much time to spend together, not to say that he won’t miss the time you do get — but he’s happy that you’ll be having a good time. His biggest worry is about your safety, but that’s nothing a few Klokateers can’t fix.

He looks forward to your nightly phone call more than ever — after a long day of running around, his steady voice is so nice to listen to. And you know, it’s funny — he’s already less stiff around you, but over the phone, he’s a little more willing to just be a bit silly. Especially as time goes on. Maybe it’s because of the distance that comes with a call. Maybe he just misses you.

And he’d be lying if he didn’t pay just a little bit more attention to the vibration of his phone, just in case you send him a text or a photo. He might not respond immediately, but he does look forward to hearing from you.

He does find himself thinking of you often — certain colors, trinkets, your interests… he’ll text you about them every now and then, just to let you know you’re in his thoughts.

Please send him a postcard or two, if you’re able. He likes physical items like that, especially if you scrawl a little note on the back.

10/10, he’ll be sure to take you on a nice date when you get home to make up for lost time.

Nathan Explosion

Listen, Nathan isn’t the most talkative man on Earth. Or in the States. Or in Mordhaus. Or, anywhere, really. No, his way of showing love is through spending time together. He loves getting up in the afternoon morning with you, going through your morning routine, watching you pick out your outfits… loves to just you know, exist with you. He thought he was going to be fine while you were gone, but everyone in a 30mi radius could tell he was not.

Spoiler alert: He is not.

He’s awkward on phonecalls, and is abysmal on videocalls (can’t hold a phone straight to save his life), so while he will 100% try, he’s not… he’s not great. But you know, just keep him updated with your daily activities — send photos of your adventures, of your outfit choices in the morning, of the random shit you found in the shops… it makes him feel just a little less alone. And he’ll try to do the same, even if the photos are always weirdly out of focus. He does better at the random voice notes he’ll send to you — now those, those make you feel more at home. It’s usually just some random thing he’s been thinking of — maybe it’s a random verse he’s been noodling at, maybe it’s an idea for some new too-expensive project, maybe it’s just some random thought that won’t leave him alone. But they mean a lot.

Other than that, he does fairly decent at distracting himself — if there was any time for a good-old friender-bender, it’s now.

5/10, Pickles is doing his damndest to keep him away from the tequila.

Pickles the Drummer

He’s been preparing for this day from the moment you put it on the calendar. He just knows he’s going to be horrific, going to spin himself in circles, going to chew his own arm off, and—

He’s actually fine. He thought he was going to be shaking like a chihuahua in your absence, but all things considered, he’s actually pretty damn okay! I mean yeah, he looks forward to your call at night, and he gets a bit sad if you ever have to miss it, but he’s not basing his entire day around the void your absence has made. Part of that comes from the photos you send throughout the day — he knows you haven’t just fucked off and abandoned him, which honestly, was his biggest worry. The other half of his nonchalance comes with his lifestyle. I wouldn’t say he’s drinking more now that you’re gone, but also… he’s bored. He’s not drinking himself to death, mind you, it’s just… Pickles.

He for sure gets a bit sappier when he’s really under the influence — he will be showing photos of your adventures to anyone who will listen. And to anyone who won’t. He’s glad you’re having a good time, genuinely.

Might as well go on a good old friender-bender while he has the time, though.

9/10, surprisingly normal, but someone should really look into his liver — how it hasn’t shut down by now is anyone’s guess.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

When its time for your trip, he thinks he’s gonna do great in your absence. Love you to death, but it’ll be nice to play guitar in the middle of the night again without having to worry about waking you up. And he can finally watch that horror movie you said he’d hate because for some reason you’re convinced that he hates them. Oh! And he can finally try his hand at drinking Nathan under the table again, and—

He has a whole list of stupid shit planned out, and he doesn’t even make it an hour before he’s smacked with a very crushing loneliness. He finds himself turning to murmur to you, only to have your usual space just… empty.

The weight of your absence is stunning, and he refuses to admit how much he misses you. But you can take a guess, with how much he draws out your midnight phonecalls. And really, its hard to keep up the dirty talk for that long without getting cliche— how about you just tell him about your day?

4/10, emotionally constipated Swedish man ends up in ER with repetitive strain injuries to the fingers and wrist, more news at 10:00.

Toki Wartooth

Toki considers himself to be fairly adaptable. I mean sure, he misses you half to death, but he can function without you. Plus, he always has his memory boxes and scrapbooks for when he’s particularly longing, and he always has the ability to call!

By which I mean, he’s calling you almost any chance he gets. But to be fair, that’s not too much different from when you’re at home — he just likes to talk to you. He keeps you updated on all of the shenanigans at Mordhaus, so you never really feel too far from home. But now that you’re off on your own adventure, he wants to hear all about it! Please send him photos!

Genuinely, he does great at surviving without you. That is, until it comes time to sleep — he didn’t realize how good you were at keeping the nightmares at bay. Expect a slightly longer call at night — he probably won’t tell you about the nightmares, but he does get a bit whinier about you coming home.

8/10, surprisingly adaptable, but please bring him a trinket. No, it does not matter that he could buy every item in the country thrice over — he would still like a little trinket.

William Murderface

He does not miss you, he’s just buying a casket and writing his will because it’s a fun, Tuesday activity.

Okay, he’s lying, he misses you so fucking much it’s unreal. It just feels weird to, you know, say it like that. He’d be calling you 24/7 if you weren’t out and about, living your life. So instead, he texts. There’s no obligation to respond immediately, mind you… but a few updates here and there would be deeply appreciated.

He tries his absolute best to distract himself while you’re gone — maybe Planet Piss will finally get it’s first EP down (false) — with varying success. His chief method of distraction comes to hanging out with the band… and the boys are texting you by the end of the week to please come home, because they’re having to beat him off with a stick. He’s also weirdly agitated with everyone but you, which certainly doesn’t help matters… but on the phone, he’s just as soft as could be.

3/10, he’s going to chew his own leg off at this rate. Someone save him, please.

[beezified]

"Nathan," you say.

Yes?" he replies after a moment

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises.

You try to respond… but you can't. Your limbs feel stiff and heavy, your tongue like lead.

The sun is rising.

You don't fight it. You close your eyes, take one last deep breath… and die.

Um... So this is what I would imagine the scene goes for me, art block is trying to get me that's why the art look weird and no effort (I'm sorry :[ I tried my best)

Anyhow, scene and Nathan character was originally from Thicker Than IF made by lovely @barbwritesstuff (check out their stuff!!)

[asunsetgrace16]

✧ 𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧⎥ 𝗡𝗠29

Pairing: Nathan MacKinnon x fem!reader

Summary: It turns out that it is possible to die of a broken heart

Warnings: sad sad sad, swearing,

Notes: I take it back. Kind of. I don't think my groove is entirely back, or maybe it was just the fics I was working on. I wrote this in four hours around midnight and this is my first attempt at writing something sad. I will say that it was hard to not cry writing this, so hopefully 🤞 you guys feel some emotions too. There isn't much dialogue in the beginning. Also, broken heart syndrome is in fact a real thing

masterlist ⎥ navigation

Word Count: 3.7k

Nate is numb. He’s been numb since about 10:30 last night, when the police knocked on his door. He had been home for 20 minutes max, having just gotten back from Cale’s house, supper with him and Gabe and Mikko. Tracey was up in Calgary for a few days. Y/N had dinner plans with her work friends, it was Shannon’s birthday. The world tilted on its axis as he was told that Y/N was killed. They soberly tell him what happened forty-five minutes ago. Hit-and-run…they are looking for the driver…happened in the restaurant parking lot…no, she was the only one. Nate’s pretty sure he stops breathing, because he feels a firm hand on his elbow guiding him back into his house, coaxing him to take deep breaths. Blood rushes in his ears, and he thinks, Australia, their honeymoon. He lifts a hand to wipe his face. When did he start crying? 

The police stay for a while, watching him carefully until they are sure he won’t spiral into a panic attack, ironic all things considered. When he is semi-into it, they explain everything again. 

Ok,” Nate says, “would you...you mind, um, coming back in the morning? I need to hear this once some of the shock wears off.” His voice is quiet and strained. He doesn’t fight the tears silently rolling down his cheeks. They agree to his request, leaving with a handshake and squeeze on the shoulder, hints of agony shining through their masks of professionalism.

Nate stays sitting at his kitchen table, head in his hands. Sobs shake his body, uncontrollable and awful. He cries so hard he thinks he might cry himself sick. Eventually, he leans back, face twisted with emotion and damp with tears. Slowly, he heads to bed. Each movement is mechanical. He tosses and turns, his sleep is plagued by once-sweet memories of Y/N turned into cruel reminders that she was ripped from him.

Eventually he gives up and moves to the guest bedroom. He cries more, more than he ever has. He wants Y/N, he wants to kiss her, and hold her, and take her to games and-.

-

Next thing Nate knows, he is waking up to the sun streaming through the curtains. He is confused at first, the stiffness of the bed isn't what his bed feels like. As he opens his eyes, last night comes rushing back. He doesn’t want to believe it. They had just started their life together, with promises of love and kids and 60 more years. The tears start again, slower than the previous night but no less gut-wrenching. Reluctantly he heads to the bathroom. He looks worse than imagined. Red and puffy eyes that unfortunately make the blue pop, pale skin and chapped lips. Nate’s hands shake as he splashes water on his face. 

Taking a deep breath, he tries to get some semblance of a list to make sense in his mind. He shoots off a vague text to Bedsy, letting him know that he might be late for practice, not knowing how long the police will take. 

It turns out that it only takes half an hour. The same officers from the night before knock on Nate’s door at 7:30, introducing themselves and Parker and Walker. They recount the night before in more detail. Y/N was killed at 9:48 pm, during a hit-and-run in the restaurant parking lot. She was the only one, none of her friends were even injured. They tell Nate that it was an instant death, painless…that she didn’t suffer. Nate is frozen in his chair, back ramrod straight and hands clasped tightly. Walker leaves a copy of his first report, and his phone number in case Nate has questions. He walks them out, shaking their hands and thanking them for coming over again.

Returning to the kitchen, he pulls out a notepad and pen. Nate lists off the things he needs to do. Call his parents. Call Y/N’s parents. Call the funeral home. Talk to C-Mac and Bedsy and the team. Get through practice. 

He decides to wait on calling his parents, saving that for the afternoon. Same with the funeral home. He is in a daze the whole time he prepares for practice. He makes his usual protein drink, but he thinks that he used orange juice instead of water. Nate’s not sure. He also isn’t entirely sure how he made it to the arena without running a red light.

His whole walk to Bedsy’s office is stressful. He dreads the thought of having to have this conversation more than once. He knocks on the open door, seeing C-Mac there as well. 

“Hey Nate, I got your text.” Bedsy starts, looking at Nate, concerned, “You ok? Respectfully, you look like shit.”

“Feel like it too. Can uh, both of you come down to the dressing room? Like now? I have some, some uh,” Nate stops, swallowing, “some news, and I want to say it as few times as possible.”

“Sure, all right.” Bednar and C-Mac glance at each other, worried. They’ve seen Nate be not ok before, but this is new. Nate is silent during their trek to the dressing room, still holding his orange juice and green protein powder monstrosity. Bedsy opens the door, gesturing for Nate to go through first.

“Hey Nate, you forgot your jacket at mine last night. You didn’t pick up when I called.” Cale tells him. Nate is standing where Bedsy usually stands.

“Uh…ok thanks, Cale. I was um…I was a little preoccupied last night. Sorry” He responds. His voice is shaking, his hands are shaking, Bedsy and C-Mac are getting increasingly concerned and Nate feels on the verge of a panic attack.

Cale grins suggestively at him, “Ohhh, I see, I see how it is. Getting a little lovin’ on with Y/N I s-”

Nate interrupts abruptly, cutting straight to the chase, “Y/N is dead. She’s dead.”

The whole locker room freezes. Cale’s jaw drops. Someone's water bottle hits the floor.

“Holy shit-” 

“Oh my god.”

“Nate, you need to sit down.”

The voices swirl and blend around him. Nate’s vision loses focus, and cotton balls are stuffed in his ears. Hands find his elbows, easing him into a stall. Someone kneels in front of him. Nate stares, glassy eyes unseeing. 

Slowly, he comes back. His throat is raw and scratchy and he needs water. Mikko tosses over a water bottle and a clean, damp towel.

“Start from the beginning, Nate.” Jo urges softly.

So Nate recounts the story. The entire team is close around him as he repeats what he was told this morning and last night. Their faces reflect the horror and agony Nate feels. Tears fall when he says that her death was instant. He hears sniffles from somewhere, and everyone else is crying now, too.

“It’s good,” he says, “knowing that she wasn’t in pain, but it is awful knowing that there was no chance of saving her.” His voice breaks, he covers his mouth with a hand sobs as quietly as he can. Cale hugs one side and Jo’s on the other. Once the tears slow, he takes the towel that Mikko’s holding. 

“Practice is canceled, today and tomorrow.” Bednar says, “I don’t want Nate to be left alone. Cale, Jo, Mikko, go with him and grab Gabe too. I will talk to the league, see about rescheduling the game tomorrow. I will have to tell them, Nate.”

“No, you guys play. Say I’m out day to day or something. A practice muscle strain.” Nate objects.

“Nate, your wife died less than twelve hours ago. We will not be playing hockey. I’ll phone in and say we forfeit. I will tell Bettman that the news doesn’t go out until you, me, and C-Mac give an interview.”

“Ok.”

-

The afternoon follows a similar pattern. Cale drives Nate home, Jo phones Gabe. Mel brings soup when she comes with Gabe. She folds Nate into a hug as he cries. He makes the excruciating phone call to his parents and hers. Cale smartly suggests doing a triple call so there’s only one conversation. 

“Where should I bury her?” Nate asks, “Here, or should she be back home?”

“Nate, her home has been with you for years. Keep her close to you.” Y/N’s dad tells him. Nate nods forgetting that they can’t actually see him. Gabe takes notes while they discuss the funeral over the phone. Granite headstone, brown casket, service at St. Andrew’s and burial in the graveyard nearby. The reception will be held in the hall near Nate’s house. He doesn’t want people in his house. The date is set for March 5th. 

The media has a field day upon the announcement that the Avs have forfeited their game against the Stars. Sid calls him within a minute.

Nate forces the team to play their next game three days later on February 28th. It’s at home against Buffalo. They lose in an uncharacteristic fashion, so much so that the Buffalo players notice something is really wrong.

Gabe takes care of most of the funeral arrangements, and Nate is forever grateful. He meets with the funeral director, sending with him the clothes he picked out for Y/N to be buried in. Before he leaves, he hands Nate a box.

Opening it, Nate finds her purse. Her phone. A box with her wedding rings. Jo finds him with shaking shoulders and his head in his hands.

On March 2nd, a week after Y/N died, Nate asks for a press conference. The Avs lost both games they played in that week, with Nate a very conspicuous absence. Bedsy asks over and over if Nate is sure that he wants to go through with it.

“I’m sure. It won’t be a secret for much longer.” Nate says. Bedsy just nods. The trio of Nate, Bedsy, and C-Mac file into the media room.

Nate starts, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible. “I’m aware you all have been wondering where I have been this past week.”

The reporters nod. Nate takes a deep breath.

“On February 23rd, I received news. News that my wife was killed in a hit and run accident. It happened in a restaurant parking lot as she was heading to her car.” He stops as hands fly up. C-Mac picks someone.

“Nate, I am very sorry for your loss. Is this why the game was forfeited last week?”

“Yes, it was. It was a shock to all of us, and none of us were in any condition or mental state to play.”

“How is this going to affect the rest of your season?”

Nate scoffs quietly. His wife is dead and they are concerned with hockey. “I have decided to take an extended leave of absence from the team. I won’t be playing in the game tomorrow night, nor will I be for the rest of the season. My life was completely torn apart a week ago, I have more important things right now. I do ask that I be left alone right now, no reporters at my house or on the street. I want privacy.”

With that, Nate walks out. Cale is waiting to drive him home and he takes one look at Nate and pulls him in for a hug. He is tired of crying and tired of people saying they are sorry and tired of missing Y/N and tired of being tired.

-

No. 1 

February 24, 9:09 pm

Nate: Hey guys, I have some news.  Davo: Period at the end of the sentence. This won’t be good Nate: Y/N was killed last night, hit and run Sid: Oh my god, Nate Sid: Are you ok? Were you hurt? Davo: Oh shit Nate: I’m fine, but I guess that’s relative right now Nate: I wasn’t there. She went to dinner with friends. It happened in the parking lot Auston: I am so sorry, man. I realize that that is probably not what you want or need to hear, but I don’t know what else to say Nate: No no, it's ok. I appreciate it. I think I’m still in shock, so not much room for anything other that devastated right now Ryan: Is there anything we can do? Nate: No, not right now. Funeral’s on the 5th, if anyone wants to come. My place is full, but any of the guys would let you stay with them Sid: Of course we want to come, it's just a matter of whether we can Ryan: Even if any of us play, once the news is out most teams will probably want a player there for support Davo: I checked and it's in the middle of a break for us. Ryan and I will be there, Leon too probably Jack: We’re out west on a road trip, but I could try and pull some strings to come. Nico will try to be there too Owen: We are at the end of a homestand that day, but I’ll probably get to come. Can’t do much worse than we already are Owen: That was bad, sorry. Lame-ass excuse for a joke Nate: Don’t be. It almost made me not frown. Thank you Juraj: I’ll be there. We are in LA the day before. Newy will want to come Baby Connor: I’ve got a break before our trip down there. I’ll be there. Dammit why am I baby Connor again? Nate: Cause you are a baby. I really appreciate it, guys. Thank you Baby Connor: Dude obviously. You can’t just drop the worst news of your life and not expect your number 1 buddies to rally the troops and support you Nate: The kid’s gonna kill us all. I didn’t need to cry again but everything makes me cry now, I guess Baby Connor: Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to Nate: I know, just messing with you

-

The funeral goes perfectly. Nate’s and Y/N’s parents arrived a few days ago and have been staying with him. It’s a comfort to have them there, though most days he feels like he’s wading through quicksand. There is usually a teammate there, or two. Sid flies in the day before, same with all the guys from the groupchat. Naz comes from Calgary. EJ and Tyson come, and other Tyson and Bo make the trip out with Owen. Alex comes with Juraj. Nate spends the day crying silent tears and hugging more people than he cares to remember. Mikko, Cale, EJ, Jo, Tyson, and Sid are pallbearers at the funeral. He gives a speech, short as he can get away with. His voice breaks and wavers the whole time. Y/N’s parents and Nate’s say a few words, and the priest reads the eulogy. 

The weather is mild for the burial, Nate almost wishes it was miserable. The day passes in a daze, making awkward small talk with people he barely knows, Thankfully they leave within an hour. The rest of the people there manage to lift the mood a little and Nate moves from crying to barely frowning. Connor Bedard sticks close to him most of the time. Nate is grateful for him, he’s a good kid with a good heart. He hugs Connor extra hard before he leaves to catch his flight to Utah.

-

“Nate!” Cale calls, knocking on his door again. He’s normally never late, but things still aren’t normal. Nate was the one who suggested that they go skate, not practice, but just to skate. A change of scenery. Cale finally gives up and digs his key out of his pocket. He’s a little confused when he sees that none of the lights are on. Nate hasn’t been himself, but this is weird. Nate’s dog Aspen appears from the hallway. 

“Hey buddy, where’s Nate?” Cale asks him. Aspen circles Cale once before heading back towards Nate’s bedroom. Cale follows him. Nate’s door is shut tight and Aspen has his nose shoved in the corner. Opening the door, Aspen bounds to Nate’s side, where he looks to be still asleep. He whines, getting his nose under Nate’s hand.

“Oh my god.” Cale whispers. Nate is a shade of gray no living person should ever be. “Oh my god.” He moves to the bed. Nate is cool when Cale touches his wrist. He fumbles for his phone, dialing 911 when he doesn’t find a pulse.

-

“Sid…” Kathy calls up the stairs, “Get down here, you have to see this.”

Sidney hustles down at the tone of her voice. Kathy is standing behind the couch, remote gripped in one hand. He stands behind her, hand on her waist. Her hand drops the remote, coming up to cover her mouth as they hear the news.

"... and now we have saddening news coming from Denver, Colorado. It is with our deepest condolences that we announce the death of NHL star, Nathan MacKinnon. He was found early this morning after failing to meet teammate Cale Makar, for morning skate. Makar called 911 when he found MacKinnon in bed after he didn’t answer the door. According to law enforcement agencies, MacKinnon died peacefully at home overnight, but suddenly, with no chance of resuscitation once they arrived on the scene. His death comes just weeks after the death of his wife, Y/N. What this means for the Avalanche and the rest of the season, we don’t know. More, after the break.” 

Sid thumbs open his phone to the news app. Every headline is the same variation of announcing Nate’s death. Tears fall on the screen.

Colorado Avalanche teammates of Nathan MacKinnon, coach Jared Bednar, yet to speak on the star’s sudden death.

Breaking News: NHL Superstar Nathan MacKinnon, dead at 29. What does this mean for the Avalanche?

“The NHL offers its deepest sympathies and condolences to Nathan and Y/N MacKinnon’s families during this time of tragedy.”

“Nathan MacKinnon, announced dead this morning weeks after his wife, Y/N MacKinnon, was tragically killed…”

Details about Nathan MacKinnon’s death are expected soon.

-

THE COLORADO SUN

Details emerge on the death of Colorado Avalanche star Nathan MacKinnon

J.P Burrow, 12:00 pm March 30th, 2025

Four weeks ago, the hockey world was shocked when Nathan MacKinnon, 29, appeared in a press conference after being notably and unusually absent from two home games, both lost in depressing fashion to weaker teams. What he revealed that day was the furthest thing from what anybody expected.

We were told that a week prior, MacKinnon’s wife Y/N, 27, was killed in a hit-and-run car accident. Her funeral was three days later. Understandably, MacKinnon withdrew from the public. His teammates were a constant source of support, but that only goes so far when grieving your spouse. He decided to take the rest of the season off.

MacKinnon and Y/N were married for three years, and together for nearly ten. They were fan-favorites throughout the league, despite them being notoriously private. MacKinnon never smiled as much as he did when he was talking about his wife. 

Now, thirteen days ago, the world was rocked again when it was announced that MacKinnon was dead. Details surrounding his death have been revealed after an autopsy. The report revealed that his heart sustained damage after Y/N’s death, caused by a sudden, constant surge of adrenaline in the days following. This causes a disruption of blood flow in the heart, similar to a heart attack. It is fittingly called Broken heart syndrome, where the death of a loved one can trigger the condition. Death is rare, but it happens.

We reached out to friends of MacKinnon’s across the league, his own teammates commented in a press conference earlier today.

Connor Bedard: Nate was a close friend of mine, he helped me a lot when I first got into the league. I looked up to him a lot. Once I got to know him outside of hockey, I learned just how amazing of a person he is– was. I was shocked to learn that he died. We had just landed in Denver for our game against them when Cale [Makar] called me.

Sidney Crosby: It was a lot for all of us, the whole month. I’ve been close with Nate for ten years, he's my best friend, so to say that I’m going to miss him is an understatement. I saw how much Y/N dying crushed him, they were made for each other. Hockey was his first love, but Y/N was his true love.

Gabe Landeskog: The season changed for all of us after Y/N died and Nate took time off. There will be no replacing Nate, his skill, his passion…it left a hole. I’m not going to sugarcoat things. This will be really difficult to come back from. It won’t be this season, maybe not even next season, but we are going to fight, for Nate. He would want us to.

-

“He really died of a broken heart.” Cale says before turning to bury his face in his wife’s hair, crying silently. He hasn’t been the same since finding Nate, taking his own leave from the team.

For the second time in a month, the Avalanche and company are reunited, standing in black around a grave beside the one they stood around three and a half weeks earlier, but another person short. Y/N’s headstone will be put in the same day as Nate’s. EJ is holding Aspen’s leash, who took him in when Nate died. He’s retiring, he told everybody when they gathered the second time. The past month reminded him that life is short. He is moving back to Denver to take over Nate’s house. They had found a notebook in his bedside table that had the beginnings of a will written in it. He wanted EJ to have Aspen, and the house if he wanted it. Pictures, his suits, and Y/N's wedding dress were to go to his parents, donate his and Y/N's clothes, and box away his Avalanche gear and ship it to Sid in Nova Scotia. Their wedding rings go to Sid too.

“But now they are together again.” Jo says, smiling through his tears. The thought brings some comfort to them, knowing that Nate has been reunited with the love of his life, and won’t spend the rest of his life missing Y/N.

[dadvans]

elliot friedman: ok i’m going to move away from asking you sid questions. who do you most like to watch in the lea-- nate: sid.

heeeeere we go

same interview now with video!

[falafels]

i am thinking once more about how Wymack is from Baltimore. and Nathan Wesninski presumably has been in Baltimore for a decent portion of his life to get the city in his Official Murderer Title. The EC (if i remember right) says Wymack left home at 14 and eventually dropped out of high school (later got his GED to go to college), but he was probably not doing great all things considered: violent household, parental neglect, homelessness TLDR schoolwork not really a priority or maybe he just told someone to fuck off. and Nathan is an asshole who knows when that started.

ANYWAY all this to say I think they were in the same after school detention. maybe even just once. and Wymack doesn’t really remember, maybe it comes back to him in Neil’s third year, when Nathan’s posthumous trial is public and Wymack sees a photo in the papers with a cruel smirk and a forehead scar that looks so familiar. He tells himself it must just be resemblance to Neil, but the memory does come back.

The boy at the desk by the window, twirling his pen with the absentminded smugness of somebody who knows they’re the smartest in the room. The boy who had watched intently as Wymack had pulled the his too-small scruffy hoodie over his face, not quite enough to hide the black eye he was sporting. The boy who has offered him gum once, seemed to recognise the two of them as the same in some sort of way, maybe the violence, maybe the detention. Maybe he’d just been entertained by Wymack’s squirrelly nerves and jumpy disposition.

And I don’t think Wymack would ever mention this to Neil. He doesn’t like to talk about Baltimore, neither of them do. But just to check, double check, he digs out an old yearbook and there’s the photo he was looking for. in the back, with miscellaneous candids of the school’s nobodies, the dropouts, assorted photos. black and white print, a few others in the background, one tall and scrawny boy startled, scruffy, and clearly uncomfortable, sat near a boy with wavy hair, a cutting smirk and air of relaxed confidence, twirling that pen in his left hand.

Wymack closes the book, pours himself a stiff drink (changes his mind and slugs down half the bottle), and never opens it again.

[junkh3ad]

Which Dethklok member can give the best hugs? Personally I think Nathan wins in my opinion.

I did this for all of them, but my first original answer was Nathan. I, as per usual got carried away.

so i absolutely agree with you there, Nathan’s a big guy, you KNOW his hugs are the best. Warm and soft. He might be weird at showing his affection, but his hugs are warm and comforting and they feel safe. I think cuddling with nathan would be the same, he’s warm (practically a space heater) and his hold on you is so strong that you never worry about feeling unsafe.

i’m bias but i also think Pickles would, he seems to be someone who hasn’t had much physical affection in his life so i think the hugs he DOES give are long and very loving. If you cuddle up with him he’ll hold you all through the night, his grip never going away.

I think Murderface would originally hate hugs, he’d avoid them at any cost but eventually. eventually he gives in to your demands for a hug. He’s stiff but he likes it, and over time he’ll become more affectionate too! he’s not a big fan of cuddling but…maybe that’ll change with some time too.

Skwisgaar is aloof at first. Hell sling an arm around you and think that’s enough at first until you tell him that actually it’s not enough. Once he gets with the program though, his hugs are strong and secure. He’s protective, and he’s always got an arm around you after your conversation. He won’t admit it, but you cuddled up to him in bed makes him happy, and you’d eventually wake up with his arm holding you close to him as he slept.

Toki LOVES hugs. He’s practically always trying to hug you, pulling you onto his lap so he could hold you. a hand on your lower back when you guys are out so he’s constantly touching you in one way or another. He craves the attention, and you provide because you love it. He’s also big on cuddles, but he likes to be held. strong man, but he’s the little spoon.

[watsittoyah]

Prayers From A Sinner- Dick Grayson x Blk Fem Reader

Warnings-Sexual content, and adult content. Toxic behavior, enemies to lovers? Oral sex, slight rough sex, drug use, violent behavior.

I do want to let everyone know that this story will have dark themes. It’ll be erratic at times and the main characters morals will be tested. There will be foul language and lots of descriptions of acts of violence and other uncomfortable subjects. If those themes aren’t for you, I won’t feel any way about it and you don’t have to continue. But for those who decides to stay and read, thank you, I’ll do my best making this story…interesting and entertaining.

Chapter 1 - Thou Shall Not Kill…

“Dear God, I know we haven’t spoken in ten years, but…I know you listen. Even to sinners like me. I know I won’t make it to those pearly gates but you please please save her. My mothers faith has never wavered, she always speak so highly of you. Just…don’t take away the one person who loves me.” You pray as you knees at the alter.

The sentiments were soon gone when you felt a shadow beside you. You open your eyes and turn to face him. “You shouldn’t be here.” The reverend says glaring at you. You kiss your fingertips and proceed to tell the good lord amen and then you look back at the Reverend.

“What? Can’t sinners come to church and pray too?” You ask in an innocent tone. “You know God won’t be listening to your prayers, you little demon.” He hisses at you which only gets a rise out of you. You rise from off of your knees and lean in.

“Tell me, reverend…do you still get those urges?” His glaring shakes a bit as he knows what you’re asking. “You need to leave, now Miss Price.” He tells you ignoring your question. “Oh but Rev, I was just asking do you still get those urges? Especially when you do communion? Do you get a stiff one when you have the men open their mouths when they eat that cracker?”

“I said get out!” He snaps causing you to laugh in his face. You wipe the tear from your eye and pat his arm. “Don’t worry, Reverend Jones. I was only teasing. But if you ever want to settle those urges you know where to come. I got the best boys that’ll satisfy you better than the misses. Just remember I won’t tell if you don’t.” You wink at him and motion for your three body guards to follow you outside of the church.

“Church people are so judgement.” You tell Nathan, your best guy. “That’s why I’m atheist.” You laugh and he helps you down the stairs while Marc gets the truck ready and Jake holds your umbrella.

You stop mid step and sigh. “Hold on, boys. I’ve got company.” You turn and right in the shadows you see him. “I’ll be back.” You pluck the umbrella from Marc and continue down the steps.

“But Miss Price-” You turn to Nathan and give him a look that makes him back down. “I’ll be fine, now don’t hover you know I hate when you do that.” You walk away from him and you walk down the alleyway, and stand in the slight moon light.

“You know you’re not your daddy, Richie Rich. Come out so I can see you.” You say with a slight smirk on your lips. Dick Grayson had stepped out of the shadows but he wasn’t wearing his stupid getup.

No he was dressed differently. Hell he stood differently, and he was more filled out than the last time you saw him. But things change in six years. “What are you doing here, Victoria? I thought it was clear that you were never to come back here in Gotham.”

You cock your head to the side at him. Clearly his attitude hasn’t changed.

“That’s rude, normally when you greet an old friend you ask them how they’ve been and what they’ve been up to.”

“We’d have to be friends for me to ask that.” He steps up close to you and you smile. “Awe, Richie Rich that hurt my feelings. Now kiss my lips and make the pain go away.” You say as you lean in.

But he moves back from you and leans against the wall. “Why are you here?” He asks again. “I have business to take care of here, since you’re so concerned. Now where is Batman? Is he still around?” You ask looking past him.

Dick looks at you and you see the sadness in his masked face. “I heard about your mother. I’m sorry-” You raise your hand and stop him. “Don’t be sorry, people die all the time. It just happens to be my moms name on the reapers list.” You say in a cold tone.

“You know that I can talk to some people. See if she can get better treatment.” You laugh in his face. “What you don’t think I haven’t done that? You don’t think I haven’t tried to buy more time for her? I have thrown enough money at these so called doctors, and all they’ve told me was she has no time! She is dying! And I can’t do a fucking thing for her! You and I both know she doesn’t deserve this, she’s one of the good ones in this dump of a city. And I have to watch her leave me!”

Dick walks over to you and he hugs you as you feel your shoulders shake. “I’m here for you, you know that right, Victoria?” Dick makes you look at him and you give a nod. “I know. I just-I hate crying. God damnit.” You wipe the tears and Dick kisses your head.

“You…you can’t stay here in Gotham. You have too many warrants and you’re a target.” You shake off his embrace and glare at him. “You think I give a fuck about that right now? You insensitive bastard!” You go to slap him but he catches your wrist and he sighs.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. I know you’re hurt. I know you want to lash out just to make yourself feel better. But I just want you to be safe. You know I care about you.” He tells you as you oddly become calm.

“If you want me to feel better then, make me feel better. This suit looks good on you. Makes your shoulders look more broad. And you smell good. I bet you still taste good.” You start to press up against him and you cup the front of him making him flustered a bit. “Victoria, I can’t. We can’t.”

“Are you scared of me, Dick? I promise I’ll be a good girl for you. I won’t leave bruises like last time. I’ll even let you leave some down my throat.” You press him against the wall and as you go to kiss him he stops you and he holds you still.

“No, I said no and I mean that.” Your eyes get low and you step off. “Fine, I won’t press my luck. I apologize.” You say in a monotoned voice. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk. Maybe we can-” You turn on your heel ignoring him and you feel him follow you. As he reaches out to you, you snatch your arm back and point to the siren noises.

“Superman ain’t here so get to it Robin.” You spit at him as you walk towards your truck. You don’t even look back as you step inside. You just toss the umbrella and glare out the window.

“Marc, take me to Spades. Miss Molly is getting a bit dull and I want to show her off.” You tell him as Nathan and Jake both sit quietly. “Sure thing boss.”

••••

“Watch the doors fellas.” You tell Marc and Nathan as you step into the strip club. You see ass and bare breasts all around. You see a great amount of men, all salivating at the women dancing for them and you yawn. You take off your fur and Jake takes it for you while you walk towards the vip section. You feel eyes on you and but no one catches your attention like he does.

There was something about Dick Grayson that made you get into this mood. You never let your emotions go like this, you were a pro at bottling them up, but old Richie Rich just knew how to break that bottle and make you pour.

You knew he could bring out the best side of you, he could help you with your attitude and you’d be an upright citizen. But why would you want that? You’ve left far too many dead bodies in your wake. And you didn’t want to scrape for pennies ever again.

You’ve made a name for yourself and you liked the fear it invoked in others.

So that is why you needed a distraction, you didn’t want to think about him anymore. So you eyed the male dancers. One had a very large bulge as he moved his hips to the slow yet low base beat song. You two made eye contact and you take a crisp one hundred dollar bill out.

“You’re cute, what’s your name?” He gets on his knees and he crawls over to you. “Nicholas, but you can call me yours, pretty lady.” He accepts the money from you and you smile, looking at his pretty tan skin and his pretty white teeth.

“I think I’ll keep you. You wanna come home with me, Nicky?” His deep brown eyes seems to look a bit panicked and you gently place your well manicured nail under his chin. “Don’t be scared. Trust me, I’m all bark.” You flirt as you stare into his eyes.

His pupils dilate which causes you to smirk. But suddenly you feel someone behind you. “Now this looks like a party.” You smell cheap scotch and you turn, seeing Jake grab the strangers shoulder but you shake your head and he backs off.

“Nicky, go get us a room and wait there for me.” You pass him another one hundred and he gladly takes it and nods. “I’ll be waiting pretty lady.” He leaves off the stage and walks away, you look at his ass and you sigh.

“Come on, baby can’t I watch?” The cheap scotch drinker asks. With a swift move you take out your rose gold beretta that was secured to your thigh under your dress. You placed it under his chin and as soon as he heard the click, he sobered up quite quickly.

“Wa-” You shake your head at him. “I thought you said you wanted to watch? Well I don’t think you’ll want to watch that pretty boy eat my pussy out. I bet you’ll want to watch some girl on girl action? Well let me introduce you to miss Molly. Ain’t she pretty? She packs a mighty blow and I’m sure you’d want to watch that right?”

“N…no. Please don’t kill me.” You raise a brow at him. “I’m really a nice lady, now if I recall I asked you a question. Answer it. Isn’t Molly pretty?” The man stutters out a yes and you smile.

You pat his cheek and rub the barrel against his lips. “I think, everyone should meet Miss Molly. Now stand there and be quiet while I introduce her.” You move the gun from his lips and you shoot three shots in the air, scaring the hell out of all the patrons in the club.

The music comes to a holt and you blow the smoke from your gun. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce my little friend named Molly, and I wanted to reintroduce myself. I am Vic Price. You may have heard of me, and if not then let me remind you who I am. First things first, I am not someone to fuck with. Okay? I will shoot you and then go out for ice cream because I feel like it. Secondly, I know a lot of you in here are my enemies main men, let your bosses know I don’t give a fuck about the targets. I’m out for blood and I’m ready to spill it. And lastly, does anyone know this guy?” You point to the scotch drinker and just about everyone in the place shakes their heads.

“Good, this is a lot easier for me.” Without hesitation you shoot the man in his face and his blood as well as brain matter splatters against the stage. You step up closer to his fallen body and you shoot him in his mouth as well. A few girls scream and a few people scramble to the door but they stop as they see Nathan and Marc.

“Here you go boss.” Jake hands you a handkerchief and you wipe your gun clean and place it back on your person. “Jake you’re the best, and because you are the best please explain to the lovely folks in the room, why I shot that man in his face and his jaw.”

“Miss Price here shot that sack of shit in the face, because she doesn’t want him to be recognized by the Gotham police. And she also shot him in his jaw just so he can’t be identified by his dental records. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Price simply shot him because she was in the middle of a conversation with someone. I don’t know about you lot but I wouldn’t want to fuck with this lady.”

You clap as you laugh. “I love this guy! Now where is the owner of this fine establishment?” You scan the room and Jake points to the chubby man trying to run back stage. “Grab him.” You order.

He moves quickly and grabs the man. “Hey le…let me go!” Jake tosses him at your feet and the man looks up at you scared.

“I don’t want any problems. I respect your father and-” You bend down close to his ear and whisper something only he could hear.

“You know my old man? Please let him know his baby girl is back in town and she’s coming for what she’s owed. And if you don’t tell him, I will shoot your little pecker off and make you eat the rest. Do you understand?”

He nods quickly and you smile. “Good boy. You know what, I’m going to stay in Gotham for a while and I think I’m going to take this place off of your hands. You don’t mind right?”

“I can’t do that-” You stomp your stiletto down on his hand and he gives out a cry. “What was that?” You ask. “It’s yours! It’s yours Miss Price.” You remove your pointed heel and you look back at the crowd.

“Spades is under new management! Ladies and gentlemen all the tips tonight belongs to you. As for the rest of you that have came in to pay? Tip my people well, I’ll be making more change’s tomorrow! Jake, you make sure you keep these people from bothering me. I have a new pet to break in. Oh and one more thing, cut that cheap scotch drinking bastards hands off and drop them somewhere no one can find them.” He smiles wide and nods. “You got it boss.”

You walk down to the vip room and you lean against the door frame as you knock. Nicholas opens the door and he looks spooked. “Were those a gun shots?” He asks as he looks past you.

You place your hand on his toned chest and you move him back into the room. “Don’t worry about those loud noises, Nicky. I took care of that. Now come dance for me.” You say as you look into his brown eyes.

He gives a slight smile and he leads you to a chair. You sit down and he moves close to you and he places your hands on his abs, as well as his thighs.

“You wanna be my special friend, Nicky?” You ask as you move your hands from him and place them on the hem of your dress. “All depends…what are the benefits of being your special friend?” He asks as he eyes your body.

“You get access to me, you get spoiled. And I do love spoiling my friends. And most of all you get to have the best sex in your life. I’ll fuck you so good, you’ll see God and the devil at the same time. How’s that sound?” You ask as you raise your heel and he takes it, letting his soft hands rub down your calf. “That sounds amazing, but why me?” He asks as he unclasps your heel and he rubs your pretty black painted toes.

You let out a giggle. “Because I like that bulge you have in those skimpy little shorts, and because your eyes remind me of someone. They look…kind.” Nicholas smiles at that and he brings your foot to his lips.

“Can I?” He asks as he kisses the pads of your toes. “Go ahead, let me see you enjoy yourself Nicky.” He sucks your toes and he lets out a soft moan as he licks and suck’s your foot. You rest your head on your chin and you can visibly see he’s getting rock hard.

“That’s enough, Nicky.” You tell him. He gently places your foot down and you hike your dress up past your belly button. “I want to see what else you like sucking on.”

He kneels down and looks up at you. “I..I won’t get in trouble will I?” He asks as he looks down at your freshly waxed brown pussy. “Nah, the new manager here said she’ll let this slide. Come closer, I’m sure you’re hungry after dancing all night.” He leans in and as he grips your thighs he freezes and moves his hand back.

That movement makes you giggle. “Awe, what’s the matter? You don’t like guns?” You ask as you pat Molly. “I..um, I don’t have great experiences with them.”

You cup his chin and move in close as if you’re about to kiss him but you stop. “Well I won’t ever raise Molly to you as long as you don’t make me upset, if you do oh you won’t like that. Now Molly is staying right on my thigh. But you don’t need to be concerned about that. Just pay attention to what’s between my thighs. Now I have two things to tell you. After you give the correct answer we can have fun. Number one…I want you to know I have two main rules. One, you only get to fuck me. If you fuck someone else I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again. And two, I want you to treat me like I am your god. When I enter your presence, worship me. When I walk past you, hunger for me to come to you. Do you understand?” He nods but you grip his chin. “Answer me.”

“Y…yes pretty lady.” You let go and you place your hand on top of his head and move his face between your legs. “Now answer this for me as well. Do you have full understanding on how to eat pussy?” You hear him inhale the scent of your sex and he lets out a moan. “Yes, yes I do pretty lady.”

“Call me Vic, and I’m so happy to hear that. Now take that delicious looking clit of mine, move the hood back and lick it with just the tip of your tongue.” He does what he’s told and you lean your head back as you feel him lick circles around your clit.

“Such a good boy you are. You’re going to be my favorite. Now go ahead and suck.” You push his head deeper between your legs and you let out a soft moan as he sucks your clit hungrily.

Even though you know it’s Nicholas between your legs, your mind still wonders to Dick. In your mind he was the one licking you out and making you wet on the seat.

“It’s so good to be home…”

Next

[pygmi-cygni]

here, kitty kitty

getting nathan to do any kind of physical contact would be...a struggle, to say the least. I don't think he'd be a very touchy-touchy kinda guy, just cause he's not used to it. But I bet he'd warm up eventually.

blurb/ficlet thingy

----------

Baby steps. Touches to the back of the hand, a palm on his shoulder while he worked. He would violently flinch away, looking like you'd slapped his mother. Upon seeing you, Nathan would relax marginally. Despite his prickly disposition, you could tell he craved attention.

His gaze would follow you desperately around the compound, and he would sit as close as possible on the sofa without touching you. If you paid attention, you'd see his hands fidgeting in his lap. A war was raging in hid head - he wanted to touch you but he didn't know how.

You took it slowly, like soothing a frightened barn cat. Yes, he knew he was allowed to touch you, but he still didn't know how. You were such a godlike figure in his mind, the thought of something so mundane seemed wrong.

Not that you didn't try. You picked up on his nervousness, as well-hidden as it was, gently reaching for his hand on the couch. Your gaze was locked on the movie, but your firm hold prevented him from sliding away. Every part of him was tense. You stroked your finger up and down, loosening the nervousness ringing through his body.

He shifted closer, clearing his throat. Nathan's face betrayed nothing of the mentally wagging tail he was currently feeling; gaze focused on the movie in front of you. A small smile tickled your cheeks when you felt his warm shoulder tentatively press against yours.

As tempted as you were to wrap him in a hug, you knew it would scare him off. He rumbled appreciatively when your chin ducked to rest on his shoulder.

The movie concluded but neither of you made a move to get up. Nathan's beard tickled your forehead and your leg was falling asleep, but you didn't want to end the small moment of intimacy.

"You gonna move?" he asked gruffly, hands twitching in yours. You leaned back slightly.

"Do you want me to?"

His gaze didn't meet yours, but you could see it in the pink of his ears. No.

Smiling, you coaxed him back against your chest. His back was stiff until you began stroking his head, fingers scratching lightly over the stubble. You could feel him shiver. Slowly, you paused, letting him adjust.

Nathan huffed impatiently, hands tucking against your waist. You tried to look at his face and gauge his reaction.

"More?"

Another huff. Laughing quietly, you resumed the scalp massage, humming gently as his breathing slowed. He was out like a light before five minutes had passed.

-

A slow drumming gently roused him from the deepest sleep of his light. It was incredibly warm - warmer than he'd ever felt in the compound. Something soft was surrounding him in a way that sucked the energy from his bones. He blinked awake, hazily rousing from the syrupy blanket of slumber.

His glasses were folded at the edge of the coffee table. He was still on the couch. Vaguely, Nathan remembered your fingers on his scalp as he was blissfully rocked to sleep. His chest warmed as he realized the gentle drumming was your slow heartbeat against his cheek.

A thick throw blanket was pulled tight to his chin, and your arms bracketed his shoulders protectively.

Nathan burrowed back under the blanket, nosing into the warmth of your tummy. It would be a pain to wake you, he reasoned, contentedly snuggling back to sleep.

[a-mossy-amethyst]

if trans stuff/gnc stuff is up your alley i am very fond of the post-coma name scene. What if John had decided that instead of being John, he wanted to be Jane? I enjoy the softness and humanity of it all.

Jane Doe rights!

Some of the dialogue is from episode 5 as this is meant to be an alternative version of the name scene

“So, what have I missed?” Arthur asks.

The entity pieces together what to tell him first. He’s been in a coma for a month, and it feels like so much and so little has happened at the same time.

Their focus should be on Amanda Cummings. Arthur was already talking about her before it cut him off.

But the entity spent a month alone with no one but a kind nurse to keep it company. And the name she, without realizing, gave it has been stirring at something in its mind.

It decides to pry open the topic gently. “For one thing, they don’t know who you are.”

“No?”

“No. I thought maybe they would piece together the missing driver from the car accident a ways away from here.” It pauses. “... You’ve been John Doe for the past weeks.”

“Oh.”

“It’s…” How does it explain?

“What?” Arthur asks.

“It’s actually interesting,” it says, stalling for time.

“Well, how so?” he prompts the entity to explain.

“The nurses, one in particular… she comes in to check. She always says, ‘Good morning, John,’ and, uh…” it trails off.

“What about it?”

The entity flexes its hand, testing the joints. It’s stiff. At first, it used to drum its fingers against the bed to entertain itself, but after so long it started drifting away from this body. The only times it came back to it was when Lilly visited, and it avoided moving so she didn’t freak out.

Having a name sounded nice. But not necessarily that one. Part of it wanted to keep it for Lilly’s sake, but it doesn’t quite fit. Like a puzzle piece that matches its color scheme and looks like it should be a part of it, but just doesn’t have a spot for itself.

The entity was grateful for Lilly giving it a name. It just wishes it was one it liked more.

“Well, I like having a name.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur moves his limbs one at a time, probably testing them like the entity did its hand. “You want to be called John?”

“No. I want to be called… something.” It didn’t know.

“Okay…” Arthur says slowly. “Did you not like John?”

“I guess not.”

“How about other ‘j’ names? James, Jack, even just Jay-”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” it snaps, because none of those are right.

“Alright, so not ‘j’. Um… what about Robert? Or Nathan, or Alexander?”

The entity huffs. “You aren’t getting it.”

“No, I’m afraid I’m not,” Arthur retorts. “You said you wanted a name, but not John. I’m sorry I can’t list every name in existence on the spot. I just woke up from a coma, as you said. I’m still adjusting.”

It sighs. “Sorry, Arthur,” it says sincerely. It doesn’t mean to upset him so quickly, but he just isn’t getting it.

How does it explain better? It’s not that the names Arthur listed were particularly bad, they just weren’t right. Not like…

“I like ‘Lilly’ more than I like ‘Arthur’.”

Arthur stills. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

The entity groans. “I’m trying to explain.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of it, then. I feel rather insulted. Is ‘Arthur’ so bad a name?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what did you mean? I can hardly be called Lilly, that’s a woman’s–” he abruptly cuts himself off.

“What?” it snaps.

“Oh.”

“Just spit it out, for God's sake!”

“Ah, well, it's just…”

“Jesus Christ, Arthur, what–”

“Would you… prefer a woman's name?” Arthur tentatively asks.

The entity pauses. Was that the problem? That “John” was too masculine for whatever it was?

“Like what?”

“Oh- um- John Doe is the name for unidentified males, and the female version is Jane Doe, so what about Jane?”

The entity twirls the name around in its mind. Jane Doe. It would still be an homage to Lilly, and, more importantly…

It felt right.

“Jane.”

“Y-yes,” Arthur nods, Jane’s vision bouncing with the movement. I'm sorry if I'm wrong, it was just a thought, ignore me–”

“No!” it cuts him off. “Jane is good. My name… is Jane Doe.”

Arthur sighs in relief. “It's a nice name. I'm glad I can call you something. Does that mean you're a she, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Jane is a woman's name, so I thought you'd go by 'she’ as well.

“… Was I wrong?”

Jane hesitates. It doesn't sound like a bad idea.

“No, I think it's fine.”

“Right. Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

Jane thinks if she had a body, she'd be smiling right now. “Thank you for helping.”

[blackenedsnow]

hihi please write a nathan explosion x reader with tons and tons of anxiety like its so bad 🙏 im in a rlly bad place right now and need some comfort with my boy

unsteady hands

WARNING: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, and emotional distress.

PAIRING: Nathan Explosion x Reader

NOTE: Thank you for the request! I had anxiety back in 9th grade so I'm just writing based off my experiences with it.

SUMMARY: Nathan Explosion was not known for his sensitivity. As the lead vocalist of Dethklok, he was used to dealing with chaos, destruction, and the occasional fan frenzy. Emotions, however, were a different beast altogether.

You were curled up on the couch, your breathing ragged and uneven. The familiar signs of a panic attack were setting in, and Nathan could see the fear in your eyes. He frowned, unsure of what to do. His massive hands hovered awkwardly in the air, hesitant to reach out. He knew how to destroy things, but fixing something so delicate was another story.

“Uh, hey,” he started, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. “You’re, uh, you're freaking out again.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. Nathan’s heart clenched. He wanted to help, but he had no idea how. He awkwardly patted your shoulder, the gesture stiff and unpracticed. “It’s… okay. You’ll be okay.”

But you weren’t okay, and his words didn’t seem to help. Your breathing got worse, and Nathan felt a wave of panic himself. He hated seeing you like this, so vulnerable and scared. He wanted to do more, but he didn’t know how. He felt a knot tie in his chest, he wasn't used to feeling helpless.

After what felt like an eternity, you started to calm down, your breaths becoming more even. Nathan sat beside you, feeling like he’d failed. He was supposed to protect you, but he couldn’t even do that right.

The next day, Nathan found himself in Pickles’ room. The drummer was lounging on his bed, sipping a beer and flipping through a nude magazine. He looked up as Nathan entered, raising an eyebrow.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.”

Nathan shifted uncomfortably, his massive frame towering in the doorway. “Uh, I need your help. With, uh… with something personal.”

Pickles sat up, intrigued. “Yeah? What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s about (Y/N),” Nathan began, his voice gruff with uncertainty. “They’ve got this… anxiety thing. Really bad. I don’t know how to help them.”

Pickles nodded slowly, setting his beer aside. “Yeah, anxiety’s a bitch. What happened?”

Nathan explained the previous night, his frustration evident. “I tried to help, but I think just made it worse. I don’t know what to do.”

Pickles thought for a moment, then spoke carefully. “Okay, here’s what ya gotta do. First, don’t try to fix it. Just be there for ‘em. Hold their hand, let ‘em know you’re there. Sometimes that’s all they need.”

Nathan listened intently, nodding along. “What else?”

“If they’re havin’ a panic attack, help ‘em breathe. Deep breaths, slow and steady. It’s all about gettin’ their body to calm down. And don’t freak out, ‘cause that’ll just make it worse.”

Nathan absorbed Pickles’ advice, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Okay. I’ll try that... thanks.”

“No problem, dude,” Pickles said with a smile. “Just remember, you care about ‘em. That’s the most important part.”

A few days later, it happened again. You were on the verge of a panic attack, your breathing erratic and your hands trembling. Nathan felt the familiar surge of helplessness, but he remembered Pickles’ advice.

He sat down beside you, his presence solid and grounding. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said awkwardly, taking your hand in his. “I’m, uh, here. I’m not going... anywhere.”

You squeezed his hand, your grip tight with fear. Nathan could feel your anxiety, but he didn’t let it show. He focused on keeping his own breathing steady, hoping you’d follow his lead.

“Breathe with me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “In… and out. Look, like I am.”

You tried to match his breathing, your breaths shaky at first. Nathan kept his eyes on you, his hand warm and steady in yours. It took time, but gradually, your breathing slowed, your body relaxing bit by bit.

“You’re doing... good,” Nathan muttered, still unsure of himself. “Just, uh, keep breathing.”

It wasn’t perfect, and he was still incredibly awkward. His movements were stiff, and his words came out clumsily. But he stayed by your side, doing his best to help you through it. You could see the effort he was putting in, and it meant the world to you.

As the panic attack subsided, you leaned back against the couch, your body feeling heavy with exhaustion. Nathan stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours, though he was unsure if he should let go. His brow was furrowed with concern, and he seemed more uncomfortable with the aftermath of the situation than he did during the attack itself.

“Are... are you okay now?” he asked, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Nathan.”

He shifted awkwardly, finally releasing your hand and rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t do much,” he mumbled. “Just tried not to fuck up.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him, offering a small smile. “It helped a lot just having you here.”

Nathan grunted in response, his usual way of acknowledging something without making a big deal out of it. He got up from the couch and grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, handing it to you.

“Here. Drink this.”

You took the bottle, appreciating the gesture. “Thanks.”

He nodded and sat back down, the room falling into a comfortable silence. Nathan wasn’t good with words, but his actions spoke volumes. He was there for you, and that was enough.

[koifish67]

Dating Nathan explosion headcanons (Gn reader)

Tw: mention of intimacy, nothing to nsfw

He’s not very good at expressing his feelings, like, at all. He’ll to little things like grunt in approval.

He’s fine with pda, he’ll hold you hand or put his arm around you but nothing to serious, if it’s just you and him he’ll be a bit more touchy, leaning on you and giving you a kiss.

His room is cold as shit for no reason, like freezing cold, so your both usually under the covers cuddling each other

Really bad at apologizing (did you see how he apologized to pickles and literally gagged) so he’ll just like, mumble something and hug you. He doesn’t get mad at you specifically often, so he usually doesn’t need to apologize.

Your kinda like the bands parent in an odd way, you and Charles try not to get them into stupid shit, while you and Nathan pack them lunches and drive them to the most recent program they got themselves into.

Likes making out with you and giving you soft kisses when it’s just the two of you. Kinda stiff at first cause he doesn’t know what he’s doing since he hasn’t been in a really serious relationship.

Makes fun of couple things while he’s literally holding your hand. “Ew look at them holding hands together, wait why’d you stop?”

Likes sitting with you while he’s working on lyrics, he even wants you around when there recording for emotional support. (Will never admit it)

Really touchy and nice whens drunk and/or high, lots of touching and sluring his words.

Doesn’t belive in marriage and thinks the ceremony’s and shit is stupid in itself, he’ll do it if you want to. He will give you a sort of promise ring, kinda like this

[tokiwarcube]

Hugging Dethklok is...

Just some little headcanons on what it would be like to hug the boys (+Charles) when you're having a rough time.

Hugging Charles is…

Warm. There’s a lot of things in this world Charles can fix… and many that he can’t, loathe as he is to admit it. It’s what he does, after all. He makes things right. So when the world is crashing down upon you, it pains him beyond belief to know that he can’t just fix what ails you. But little does he know, he still lightens the burden just by being him. You’d think him stiff and unsure, but after so long of knowing you, the comfort seems to come easier. He’s good at giving advice when needed, but it’s nothing compared to the way he holds you — firm yet soothing as he runs his hand comfortingly along your upper arm, before kneading tender circles into your shoulder. Stable. Steady. Even when things look bleak, he exudes such a warm, patient presence that, even if only for the moment, makes things more bearable.

Hugging Nathan is…

Safe. He doesn’t give hugs often, but when he does, he does a good job at making you feel protected. From the world. From yourself. From all the suffocating black clouds of fear and anxiety that threaten to choke you, and leave you dead where you stand. He doesn’t really know how to talk you through whatever it is that you’re struggling with, but that’s okay — sometimes the silence is better, anyways. Strong arms wrapped around your form like a shield against that all that plagues you, steady heartbeat beneath your head narrowing your thoughts onto that singular sound… He wishes he could make things better for you with a wave of his hand, but not all problems are so easy. Until then, this is enough.

Hugging Pickles is…

Familiar. You’ve spent so many days and nights in each others’ embrace that when things get rough, you hardly even have to ask. There’s an odd thing that comes with grief — the constant well-wishes and special treatment, which appreciated in some respects, sometimes just makes things feel… worse. Alienating. A perpetual reminder that things aren’t what they should be, right now. But Pickles is different. You can talk about it if you want to, sure, but if you don’t? He can just hold you for now — content to simply be with you, unwavering in his place in your life. The familiarity of it helps detract a bit from the aching reminder of the unfamilar. If you want him to hold you tighter, or talk, or shut up… just say the word. He’s there for you.

Hugging Skwisgaar is…

Feeling seen. Skwisgaar struggles with a lot of things in this realm — giving affection, receiving affection, talking about fears and pain and sadness… so frankly, he doesn’t. Not unless it’s you — by you, for you. He’s all gangly limbs and simmering insecurity, but for you, he tries. So when he pulls you to his chest, long arms curled around your middle as he rubs tender circles against your skin, you know he’s truly, truly there for you. Not out of obligation, or as a half-assed attempt at placating you — He would never push himself so far out of his comfort zone if he didn’t truly want to help lighten your burden. When he hums little affirmations, you know he’s actually listening: He may not know exactly what to say, but he makes you feel heard. Seen. He may not have all of the solutions to what you’re going through, but the simple fact that he’s here, unwavering in his love even when he doesn’t know just how to express it, is enough.

Hugging Toki is…

Secure. Toki is no stranger to affection, but when you really need it, he pours every ounce of love he can into the gesture. Sometimes you forget how strong he is — in every sense of the word, really — until you’re pressed against him like his. Hugging Toki has always made you feel safe, but in times like this, he makes you feel secure, too. Secure in the way of knowing that the horrors of the world aren’t going to keep you down forever. Secure in the way of knowing that you’re not going to go through this alone. Do you want to talk about it? He’ll listen to every word you have to say, chiming in when he can, and placing little kisses to your temple when he can’t. His mustache presses against your skin so familiarly when he does, and it’s then that you know that you won’t have to go through this alone.

Hugging William is…

A promise. There’s a lot of things William missed out on in life — chiefly that of comfort. So in some respects, you’d think he’d be unsure of how to give it — and perhaps that isn’t entirely inaccurate. But he dreamt often of such gestures, a sort of guilty pleasure if you will… so while he might not be certain of the perfect way to help, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he pours every ounce of love that he can into the gesture when you need it the most. And oh, does it ever show — he drops his voice into a half-whisper as he whispers little affirmations, of how it’ll be okay, how you’re going to get through this, how you’re not alone. And anyone could say these things, sure, but from him? They sound like they really could be true — not generic nothings, but actual promises. And with how close he holds you, how warmly he speaks, how much physical warmth he seems to exude… you start to believe him.