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sugarlywhispers · 6 hours ago

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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight

a.n; I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA OKAY? I HAVE HAD IT IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A YEAR ALREADY AND I NEED YA'LL TO RANT WITH ME ABOUT THISSSS<3 it's mostly enemies to lovers💕

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

"For the love of–... I'M COMING!"

It's Sunday morning. You have been expecting this day to wake up maybe mid-morning, with the gentle warm breeze coming from your open window; have an exquisite brunch that you have been planning and craving since Friday; maybe watch an episode or two of your favorite show before preparing a full spa day, with a long and refreshing bath included. That's how you have planned your Sunday to go.

But no… Apparently, someone's intention was to ruin the whole day for you while their knocks on your door were persistent and annoying at 6 freaking a.m.

You don't think about what you're wearing before stumbling towards the door, with the loud BANGS still sounding. You think of your poor neighbors next door and their newborn baby.

"This little shit," you protest, completely annoyed with this person knocking on your door like someone has died. "Someone better be dead or else…" You open the door in one strong pull and huff utterly annoyed when you encounter the person behind.

Vermillion eyes collide with yours, the intense hate and annoyance so palpable in the air it almost cuts you both.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He tchs, rolling his eyes at you. The bile travels up through your esophagus, and you want to spit at him.

"Save the greetings, if you know what a decent greeting means… Well, considering how well you just did it, I doubt you fuckin’ know…"

The muscle at your temple twitches so hard, you believe he is actually able to see it. That would explain his upcoming smirk.

"The fuck do you want?" You repeat, not even caring or taking the time to follow this banter with him. You would normally do it, come back at him with a snarky response that would probably hurt his ego and he would answer back making you even angrier, and yada yada, nothing new to this ‘hate x hate’ relationship you had with this man in front of you. But today is not a day you planned on dealing with Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki.

He looks down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting a bit with the buttons on his all-black suit jacket you just now noticed he is wearing. Interesting; he never uses formal suits like this one if it isn't for a Hero Gala, and that was only once a year. Or that one time you remember he had to apologize to citizens through a TV interview with Deku because of a villain attack in Hokkaido they couldn't quite contain on time and caused a lot of material damage. You shake your head coming back to the present. Pro Hero Dynamight, a.k.a. Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki is standing right at your door, looking a bit nervous while playing with the buttons of his jacket, furrowing his eyebrows like he is angry even at the air he breathes.

You could have expected anything from this unpredictable man who infuriated you almost twenty-four hours a day, the seven days of the whole week. However, you were not expecting at all the words that come from his mouth after he looks up again and his eyes lock with yours.

"Fucking marry me."

Your eyes open wide. And the only thing you think of doing is punching him. And you do.

Your hands close in tight fists, and before saying anything, you punch his shoulder as strongly as you can with one. You know for sure your small and useless fist won't do any damage to this hulk of a man, but the meaning behind it it's what matters.

He simply looks at you in disbelief. "Ouch?" He smirks. He fucking smirks at you, and this time you punch his stomach, which does make him grunt and hover a bit in pain.

You attempt to close the door right at his face, but he suddenly pushes it with his hand and makes you waver a bit back, holding yourself on the door handle. He stands straight again, retrieving his hand from the door when he realizes he used more force than intended to prevent you from closing the door.

"I- umm- Shit, sorry, I didn't-..."

You raise a hand to stop him from talking.

"Just fucking tell me what you want, so I can go back to bed and not see your ugly face for the rest of my day."

You watch in satisfaction how his face contours into full rage. And this time you smirk.

"I fucking hate you…" He spits, and you bat your lashes at him while smiling.

"Ah, the feeling is mutual, baby."

Bakugou takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding himself on the door frame with strength. You're sure his hand shape will print on it, and you get more annoyed –if that's possible, but you have already learned that when Bakugou was involved, the anger was immeasurable– thinking that you will have to hire someone to fix that.

"I fucking hate you," he repeats through his teeth with his eyes still closed, but then he opens them, and his entire face changes into something you never expected to see. He looks at you, begging, "But I need you to marry me."

You look… perplexed. Again, never in your life have you ever come across the thought that those words would ever come from the man in front of you, much less towards you.

You open your mouth to say something, but the neighbor from the apartment in front of yours opens his door, standing there with his arms crossed and looking menacingly.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" His deep baritone voice asks. Bakugou turns his head and when he sees him, stands straight, head held high and you can imagine the type of defying expression on his face.

You roll your eyes. Men.

"Yes, Arisu, everything is fine. He's… a… friend," the word stung your tongue because you couldn't consider Bakugou that, even though you shared the same group of friends. But it wouldn't have been good having these two fight over something you still didn't understand what was happening; the thought of who of these two hulk men would win still was entertaining to think about. Your money was on Arisu, of course.

"Alrigh’," Arisu says, looking at Bakugou up and down before retrieving himself back into his apartment.

"The fuck this fucking extra-..." You stop Bakugou from turning and going towards Arisu by holding his arm and pulling him towards you.

"Stop it. Come inside," you demand, pulling him as he watches your hand around his bicep, "before any of my neighbors file a complaint against me thanks to your fucking loud mouth."

Bakugou grunts at your words as he lets you pull him inside. When you close the door and turn to him, you realize how big he looks in your small apartment, where there is barely space between the living room and the kitchen and two doors, one leads to your bedroom and the other to the bathroom. You want to laugh at how uncomfortable he looks.

You take a deep breath, scratching your forehead to regain a bit of patience –which was non-existent whenever Bakugou was around.

"Okay, now, explain to me what the hell is wrong with you."

"Nothing is wrong with me. More like what's wrong with you and this small thing you call apartment… When did you-..."

"Bakugou! I didn't invite you in for you to start insulting my living space!" You say more exasperated by every second he is in there. "Tell me what the hell happened to you! Why did you come here, almost tearing down the door of my place at 6 in the fucking morning, annoying even my neighbors, and then you fucking propose out of nowhere!"

His lips are held in a tight line as he watches you almost yell at him, hands opening and closing anxiously. There is silence for a couple of minutes before he says, "My father died."

You gasp, taking a step back. Wow. That's something you were not expecting at all. You get now why the black suit. And now that you look at him better, his eyes look glassy and reddish –probably thanks to how much he's holding himself back from showing any other emotion that isn't anger. And that's… sad.

Your arms immediately hug yourself, one hand settling over your chest. "I- I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," he turns a bit to the left, facing the kitchen to avoid looking at you. "Fucker was a right pain in the ass."

You choke on the laugh that almost escapes you at his words, and after you clear your throat you murmur, "Sorry." He looks at you a bit amused, the right corner of his mouth lifted a bit at your reaction.

You sigh again after a few seconds of silence, "Bakugou, what does that have to do with you asking me to-...”

"My great-grandparents are-were the funders and CEOs of TCA Technologies Corp.," your eyes open wide at the name of the prestigious company that had been ground-breaking in the creation and use of robots, before being the number one seller of technology materials to support heroes. They were high class in society, civilians and heroes. "Yeah, that's the face every extra makes," he smirks when you stick your tongue out at him.

He then looks at you up and down and immediately looks away, clearing his throat in a clear gesture of shyness. You frown confused.

"Fucking go put some clothes on."

That's when you remember you had no pants, no bra, and an old shirt that barely covered your panties. Fuck. You almost run towards your room to get changed. All of this had to be a dream… or a nightmare.

Your Sunday was entirely ruined. You know that for sure.

After you change to decent, more covered clothing, leggings and a big shirt that almost reached your knees –it is Sunday, dammit, and the hell you are gonna dress up for Bakugou Katsuki– you walk again towards the living room where you left said asshole waiting for you there. He is now sitting on your couch, his suit jacket lying over the back of it. His elbows are resting over his knees, his hands holding his head. You have never encountered a tired Bakugou, yet here he is. Looking beaten and down.

He looks up at you when he hears you approach him; his eyes are more reddish than before, kind of like when you want to cry but don't let yourself do it. That made you feel bad for thinking about him as an asshole.

"What took you so long, short-legs? Whatever you wear, you'll still stink and look ugly on it."

Nope. He is and will always be a stupid asshole.

You roll your eyes grunting as you let yourself fall on the couch, as far away from him as you can on that three-people couch, crossing your legs under you.

"Spit it out, asshole. What's all this about?"

He sighs, "My father inherited it all after my grandfather died. His whole life had been that stupid company, his and my mother's. I don't give a fuck about it, but the old hack insists that I- ow!"

You pinch him on the shoulder this time, knowing very well that if you had punched him he wouldn't have felt anything. But pinching… he did feel that.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Don't call your mom like that, idiot!"

"Fucking piss off, you know shit! The old hack is an old hack, she deserves the title."

You shake your head in disagreement but decide to leave that topic there considering how affected he looks by it.

"The old hack said," he simply repeats that to spite you, and you really want to punch him, "that I need to step up and be fucking CEO of that bullshit, or…"

He looks at you, and you gulp, kind of understanding where this is going.

"Or get married." You finish the sentence, crossing your arms over your chest, "But why? Those two options are completely different from one another."

"The sky will fucking fall the day I understand any-fucking-thing that comes out of her mouth. She's nuts!" He protests, arms exaggerating his words as he opens them wide, evidently showing how much stress he has, before laying back on the couch, head resting over the back of it where his jacket is. He sighs long and deeply before talking again, "My great-grandmother had a strong Quirk, but she decided to stay at home instead of being a Hero. Those were other times, ya'know?"

"I know History of Heroes, Bakugou. I'm not stupid."

He looks at you again, this time genuinely surprised, "I, umm, thought you-..."

"Have you ever thought that despite not having a Quirk, I know about heroes?"

He tchs, "No wonder why you and shitty Deku are such shitty nerds."

You roll your eyes for the eleventh time that morning, "Get to the point, shitty asshole."

Bakugou scoffs, clearly holding back a retort to answer back, then he continues, "I'm the first in generations with a strong, hero-level Quirk. Most of my family had decided to live as civilians, building this stupid company from generation to generation."

"Oh, and you are the first actual Hero in the family. You are the first one to choose differently…"

He nods in response, "It almost gave my grandfather a heart attack. Ever since my Quirk woke up, I knew what I wanted," he looks back at you, and for the first time, you admit to yourself that you're curious of knowing what he wants, what goes through his head, so you nod allowing him to continue, "I want to be a Number One Hero. I want to kick villains' asses as much and as hard as I can for as long as my stupid aging bones allow me to."

The intensity in his eyes and conviction in every word he spoke made you feel his passion. And that was… new.

"But to be that, I can't afford to waste time in falling in love and all that bullshit…"

"Then say no to your mom and the company," you offer as a solution. He snorts letting his head fall back against the couch.

"You know shit…" He shakes his head, "There's a requirement in every hero company, it says that a familiar, or a spouse if the hero is married, has to validate your mental sanity alongside a doctor to keep working as a Hero."

"I… didn't know that."

"Of course not, short-legs. You're not a hero, why would you know?"

"So, if I… If we get married-..." he nods in confirmation even before you say the words. But he says them.

"The old hag won't have to validate my status as Hero anymore, and she won't have anything to hold me back from sending her and the company to hell."

You looked serious at him, "Bakugou, you and I don't like each other. You hate me and I hate you. And you want to put your Hero status in my hands by marrying me?" You say in disbelief, almost anxious about the whole meaning of this. You stand up and walk from one side to the other as you keep talking, "Why? Because your inner kid is in rebellious tantrum mode and does not want to take the responsibility to-..."

"Shut the fuck up! You. Know. Shit!" He also stood up, shortening the distance between you two in the small living room.

"Then tell me! Explain it to me! Cause to me you only sound like a spoiled brat who doesn't want his veggies for lunch."

He looks you right in the eye, hands almost trembling in fists beside his body, and then he drops the bomb.

"My mother killed my grandfather."

You recoil a step back, "What?"

He sighs, hands and fingers running through his hair, clearly uncomfortable, "I-... There is no proof, no solid proof about it. I just- I know it was her." Again, the conviction in his eyes made you believe him. "My mother wanted the money, the luxury life being with my dad could bring her. But my dad had a brother, an older brother."

"Had?"

Bakugou simply shakes his head, "The idiot got himself in between a shooting from two villain groups. He was shot only once, and it killed him. A fucking looser…"

You try, you really tried not to smile but failed miserably. "You are the idiot," you say fighting back the chuckle.

He smiles back, "No, I got shot several times, I even got thrown at and through walls, and I'm very much fucking alive. I'm no weak ass looser as him."

You can't stop laughing, Bakugou definitely is an idiot.

He waits until you're done laughing before continuing, "Even then, my grandfather didn't think my dad was capable of handling the company and all it meant, so he was thinking about giving it to one of his nephews. That's when, I fuckin’ know, my mother took matters into her own hands. I'm an only child. If I say no…"

"The company has to go to another familiar..." Everything washes clear now in your head, “And your mom won't allow that to happen. So she’ll lie and say you aren’t sane enough to keep working as a hero,” Bakugou keeps nodding, confirming everything you’re saying.

“That way, I’m obligated to work at the company.”

Your hand travels from your forehead and brushes your hair back. “She wouldn’t that… She’s your mom, Bakugou...”

“Haven’t you heard a fucking thing I said? She fucking killed my grandfather so the company was legally inherited by my father! Therefore, she could hold all the rights, all the stupid money! My father was a fucking dimwit who believed every-fucking-thing my mother said. She controlled him as she pleased.”

You gasp as another realization hits you, “That’s why you are an asshole to her…”

“She can fool anyone, but not me.” He declares, standing tall and proud. “I have never played her game, and I fuckin’ never will.”

You hug yourself once more, taking some minutes to assimilate all the confessions he just dropped on you. Everything feels like a script of a freaking movie or something. And there are too many questions you want to ask. But there’s only one thing you mostly don’t understand and you need the answer to.

So you look back at him, head tilting up a bit due to the height difference between you, and ask, “Why me?”

Bakugou does not hesitate in his answer.

“You’re strong, despite not having a Quirk. And smart. You don’t let anyone dictate what you can or cannot do,” he takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, “You have never backed down from a discussion, with me or anyone else. You don’t let anybody step on you, holding tight to your convictions and beliefs.”

You visibly gulp, feeling a little warmth in your cheeks that makes you want to look elsewhere, but you don't. You hold the connection between your eyes like dear life. And he smiles, the left corner of his mouth raising a bit.

“You have a fuckin’ strong character, you won't even shy down from me,” you suddenly feel the back of his index finger caress the right side of your jaw, where lays an old scar he perfectly recognized.

It was the scar he accidentally left when you were younger, stupider. He had picked a fight with another newbie hero –another asshole in your opinion– who kept talking shit about his other newbie hero friends. Bakugou had snapped when the guy mocked the word “whore” towards you. You have tried to separate them, earning yourself a punch on the right side of your face by this same man that has touched the reminder of that old memory.

“But above all that…” It’s his turn to gulp, eyes going up and down through your face. Is he… Is he looking at your lips? “You are kind. You care about everyone. You always try to solve everything for everyone –that’s fuckin’ annoying actually.”

You open your mouth to swear at him, stupid asshole; but he doesn’t give you time to say anything. “What I’m trying to fuckin’ say is–” he takes a deep breath, “You are… good. A good person. And you… You understand m- us.”

Was he going to say ‘me’? By ‘us’, you know he means heroes.

Your parents had been heroes before they died. Unfortunately, you were born Quirkless, so the dream of following your parents' path was decided the same day you were welcomed into this world. You have already made peace with this idea, it didn’t hurt like it used to when you were young. Despite not having a Quirk, you specialized in Quirk and training analysis, which granted you a job that most Hero Agencies wanted you for. Hence also how now your group of friends involved all heroes.

However, one thing is working with them, working with Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Pro Hero Dynamight, who was the biggest pain in your ass you have ever had since the day you met him. Another completely different is actually marrying the pain in your ass.

You sigh, “I don’t–...”

“What? You want me to fuckin’ beg? ‘Cause I fuckin’ will…” Bakugou takes a step back and literally kneels before you. You protest, grabbing his forearm and pulling him back up, but he doesn’t let you move him even a millimeter. “What do you want? Whatever you want is yours. We can even sign a dam contract if you so want, I don’t fuckin’ care what it is. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“This is not a fucking joke, Bakugou. You are asking me to marry you. What if I have a boyfriend? You didn’t even fucking ask!”

His eyes open wide, surprised. “Do you?”

You roll your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. “No! I don’t!”

“Then, what are you bitching about?”

You groan. “I’m bitching about the fact that I don’t know why would you put a whole big deal on me when we hate each other!”

“I trust you.”

It’s a short answer, his expression is even so neutral and sure that leaves you perplexed. Surprised at how easily he said those words.

“We don’t like each other…”

“I don’t need to like you to trust you, idiot.” It feels like he’s mocking you, but one look into his eyes and what he is saying actually feels right. He is completely sure of what he is saying. “I would even fuckin’ trust you with my life.”

He already does. Every day, at work.

Still, you can’t pass the opportunity to piss him off. “Wow. That’s deep, buddy.”

“Fuck you.”

Mission accomplished.

You laugh gently, looking at him still kneeling on the floor of your living room. The sight in itself is a miracle. A sight you won't get to see ever again from this man. But it’s not the image of his kneeling position that makes you take the decision.

It’s his eyes.

They are screaming, desperately begging for you to help him. And, damn it, he is right; you always are at the disposal of everyone when they need your help. Fuck! It is actually very annoying –but you will never admit that out loud, especially not to him.

You close your eyes, head tilting back, and take a long, deep breath.

You are so going to regret this.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Bakugou Katsuki immediately stands up and practically throws himself at you, his whole hulk of a body surrounding you in what you have never thought would ever happen between you two: a hug.

Are you though?

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animeshotsh · 2 days ago

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Chubby Love | Various x Chubby!Reader

Summary: Sinners comes in all forms.

Warnings/notes: Chubby!reader - Mentions of insecurity - Reader has a body type - Reader sinner form is described!! - grammar mistakes -

Lucifer

He falls hard and does fall for real.

He was flying around, trying to clear up his mind when he noticed you. Your round cute form looked squishy from above, he took notice of your two reptail tails and how some other sinners seemed to be about to attack you.

In other times he would not care, but he decides to go down and put some orden.

Only to find out you are really badass and used your two tails to trow away these lowlifes.

Satan you almost hit him too.

And then he believes he has died. Because your suprised and blushed face greets him as you apologies to the king of hell himself for almost hitting him.

Him? He is in cloud nine. Please, he loves his S/O bigger than him, by all means hurt him, he is sure lust has made its away over him.

But no time for it!! He must be a gentlemen and says its alright then offers you help with your things.

And from there is all a love story. Lucifer is a gentle lover and a slow one. While he likes you he wants you to feel safe around him first.

His flirt is subtle yet noticianble so no one dares to try and get you.

When you two start to date this man is in cloud nine. He will hug you all the time, pressing his hands on your sides (asking if you feel ok with it) leaving kisses on your tummy and cheecks.

If he ever sees you feeling down then he is there to say the most cheesy yet loving things about you. Its not only your physical apparence but all of you. Your voice, personality, hobbies, likes...he could make up a song and play it for you.

Alastor / Cannibal tendencies

Listen. Alastor is cruel and actually likes big sinners because its more flesh. Its pure luck you meet him at the hotel where he cant hurt you.

But, heavens you have him salivating from time 0.

Your sheep like sinner form does not help. All that wool around you its making feel like a predator, eyes dark and theeth sharp.

Its only when he ends meeting you for real and having to pass time with you that his desire to eat you leaves.

His desire is different now. He cant put it in words but he cares about you. And only you.

His shadows are more open and will go after you to play with your hair and pull your wool. Hell they would even cuddle.

Alastor insists its them being them and will have a hard talk later.

Not that he dreams he could lay his head on your tummy and feel your soft wool. Nono, of course not!! Or how he wishes he could try just a bit of your flesh.

You would be part of him forever, right? Well he sees it that way.

Protective like hell. This man is know for being an ass to everybody so he wont let anyone be that to you.

No one will ever think on being that with you, everybody fears him.

Vox does a side comment about your body and his place gets attacked by a full form Alastor who does not kill him yet but does leave him pretty much hurt.

Vox

You probably work for him, having robot part did help you get the job. Plus you can turn yourself into a full ball and pretty much crush anyone and also go fast to pass messages that cant be trusted online under the risk of hackers.

Vox trust you so much and honestly never looked too much into how more or less chubby you are

You do your work well, amazing and he trusts you so much.

He would probably notice he is falling for you because of how you seem to appear in his records over and over.

Its not shy to ask you out and is rather direct about how he wants a serious relationship with you.

Stolas / Not married /

Imagine a big colorfull bird, with six eyes and two pair of wings.

Thats you.

Stolas falls hard. He meets you during a gala and does a double take when he sees you pass.

Its going towards you in seconds. And starts talking and falling over his words. Its only when you laught that he seems to relax.

Then he hears whispering from Stella and her friends (god he is so glad he was able to get out of that compromise). Turns to you to see you looking sad but trying to play it cool.

Decides to take you to a place with less peopel and asks his trustful servants to get him the best alcohol.

You two end talking and just talking, you open up about sometimes feeling bad because of what other says and how society expects you to be a centrain way.

He also opens up about his own insecurities and so you two bond.

You two start as friends but soon start dating. Its a fluff and soft relationstip. Stolas loves to show you his magic and also gets you the best clothes in the nine circles.

He is a cuddle monster and will pass all morning hugging you.

Getting his garden bigger and bigger its your favorite activity, you two can relax and be yourselfs.

Charlie x Reader x Vaggie / Platonic

Charlie meets you in the streets after a bad date. You have been crying a lot and its notable.

She asks you if you need help and offers you to stay ar the hotel with her and the rest.

Charlie knows you stand out, its not only your shape but also how colorfull for a sinner you are, while you are shy and quiet.

Vaggie also opens her arms to you. Maybe its her angel self looking out for you, but she just loves how you are.

Its normal to see you with Charlie or with her both inside and outside the hotel.

Husk

Dear satan Husk is lovesick the moment you walk inside the hotel.

Blames it to your mouse atributes and his own more like sinner form then accepts he is most likely bad heads for you.

Dating you its easy. He is actually an easy partner. Loves to cuddle and wrap his wings around you whenever he can. Whispers the most sweet thins so only you can hear. And when he can, he likes to tangle his tail with yours.

Angel Dust

Oh him....he sees you and says FUCK out loud.

Because DAM you do rock.

Maybe you dont think it yourself, but Angel tells you how sexy you are and dies inside seeing your blush.

Dies more if you flirt back.

Loves to use all his arms to hug you and pull you for kisses. When you two are in the open one of his hands will be on you.

~~~~~~~~~~

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #vox x reader #charlie x reader #Vaggie x reader #stolas x reader

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onehelluvafan · 3 days ago

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Will Stolas lose his immortality?

I’ve seen several mentions of Mission: Weeaboo-boo being a parallel to Blitz’s first encounter with Stolas (as an adult), which I can totally get behind. Right out the gate we have the “you were here to ravish me” similarity as well as Blitz “sneaking in, under the cover of night.”

I've also seen the hypothesis that Emberlynn's fan fiction includes an element of foreshadowing for what’s going to happen in the climax of Season 2.

Her episode is also the only one of the shorts with that "ticking" sound during the content warning, which lends further credence to the idea that it is tied in with the main plot somehow, even if merely thematically.

This got me pondering the possible parallels related to Emberlynn's functional immortality against demonkind and her decision to give it up in order to "be with Blitz."

Which now has me wondering—is Stolas going to have to give up his immortality to be with Blitz? Or lose it due to the illegal arrangement they've had going on?

Or, leaning into the idea that her episode is merely a reflection of how Blitz views his relationship with Stolas, could it simply be a parallel to the fact that Stolas has already been in mortal danger as a result of choosing to be with Blitz? And that Blitz feels responsible for Stolas' “undoing?”

We’re shown in Ghostfuckers that one of Blitz’s fears is that Millie could have died during any of the missions from episodes 1-4 of season one. Couple that with the fact that he believes that he “makes everyone’s lives worse,” it’s reasonable to assume that he not only fears, but feels responsible for her life being in mortal danger during their missions.

Whether he cared more about Stolas or the arrangement when he stopped the first assassination attempt, Striker was without the angelic weapon when he fled, which Moxxie had expressed complete shock in Striker's ability to have in the first place.

I think that Blitz allowed his cognitive dissonance to convince himself that Striker was no longer a threat without this weapon. Because deep down, he may have been afraid that telling Stolas about the assassination attempt might not be a neutral event for him. That he didn’t even want to contemplate the idea that he might actually care beyond the loss of their "arrangement."

In the very next episode, Truth Seekers, we see these feelings forced to the surface during his drug-induced hallucination—with Stolas at the top of a long flight of stairs, saying, “Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?”

With the knowledge that he’s afraid that he makes “everyone’s lives worse,” it adds layers to many Stolitz scenes that follow throughout the series. Data points that someone like Blitz could easily see as evidence of that very fear. “Proof” that he’s responsible for Stolas’ life “falling apart.”

- He knew that Stolas was married as evidenced by his “Sorry, I fucked your husband” after their first night together. Stolas was clearly not only consenting to sex with Blitz, but was expressing a joyous desperation for it. Despite this, it was actually the “first ever friend” comment that caused Blitz to hesitate and return to Stolas, which we now know was a soft spot for him due to his experience with Fizz. But it was Blitz’s choice to stay or go, and staying is what kicked off the arrangement, is the reason for the sexual nature of its terms, and caused a domino effect that impacted Stolas’ entire life, including his family.

- When the two of them were being roasted at Ozzie’s, it wasn’t Stolas’ perspective that was showcased for Blitz, but Ozzie and Wally Wackford’s. Not only does the narrative begin early with Wally’s “Are you sleeping with an imp?!” but it’s followed up by Ozzie’s “My dark lord, how the mighty do fall,” and continues with Stolas being called out for “giving up” his wife and daughter specifically for his choice to be with Blitz. And the way that the narrative plays out, it almost sounds like his downfall was less for cheating than it was for sleeping with an imp.

Either way, seeing Stolas hide his face behind the menu likely “confirmed” multiple things for Blitz. That despite Stolas’ “public” flirting in front of other imps, when confronted by someone actually associated with Stolas’ upper class society, Blitz was reduced to being an embarrassment for Stolas.

Believing that, left no room for even a glimmer of hope that they could be anything more than what they already were: a prince who enjoyed “sleeping with an imp” and was apparently paying a pretty steep price for it.

- Then there’s Octavia. In Loo Loo Land, Stolas takes her to the theme park but spends most of his time flirting with Blitz. Not only does she comment on this in front of Blitz, but he’s there to witness when she’s finally had enough and storms off, mad at her father. In Seeing Stars, Octavia came to I.M.P., stole the grimoire, and disappeared with it. Why? Because her father was so wrapped up in the divorce, that she felt angry and neglected.

- In Full Moon, his fight with Stolas took them through part of the palace. This is very likely the first time he’s seen it since he was apprehended at the “Not Divorced” party, and what has it become? When he came back into Stolas’ life, it was bright, vibrant, and full of people. That night in Full Moon, it was dark, muted, and the only person visible in his photos were of Via.

While Blitz may have inferred at the time that Stolas’ marriage wasn’t in a good place, he doesn’t know just how miserable Stolas was in the life he had before. From Blitz’s perspective, he may have appeared fairly content overall when they first reconnected.

Compare that to Apology Tour, which Blitz sees as the natural outcome of what people experience when they are around him long enough.

Data point after data point, to feed into the idea that Stolas’ life has been “ruined,” just by Blitz being in it. His marriage ended, his relationship with his daughter was negatively impacted, and by Ghostfuckers, someone had tried to kill him twice.

I don't think Blitz is aware that Stella is the one who has been putting out the hits, but I could see him internalizing the idea that if Stolas had died during the second attempt, it would have been his fault. Because not only had he chosen not to warn Stolas that someone was trying to assassinate him, he was also the person that Stolas had reached out to for help and he had let M&M go in his stead.

It is after this attempt on Stolas’ life that we see Blitz absolutely shook by the idea that Stolas not only could be hurt, but that he was hurt and had almost died.

This is also several months after the night at Ozzie’s, when he had first begun to realize that, painful as it was, he may care for Stolas after all. Months during which they hadn’t seen each other and he had time to actually miss their time together.

Between that and finding out that he can actually get hurt, I can see Stolas becoming one of the people that Blitz feels the desire to protect. Unfortunately, this also seems to come with the anxiety of being responsible for what he perceives as the “collateral damage” of being associated with him.

Finally, in Truth Seekers, where the "ticking" began, Stolas had exposed himself via "real" demonic power to the D.H.O.R.K.S. and by extension, the living world. But the only reason he was there and got himself caught on camera is because he came to rescue Blitz.

This could be linked to the scene where we see Blitz attempting to protect and defend Stolas against someone. My bet is on Paimon, who, while ranking below the 7 Sins in power, is still depicted as a fairly powerful being. Stolas had not only exposed their existence to the living world, but had showcased his power in his attempt to scare the agents into submission. We know there’s going to be consequences for that, as well as for the divorce, and I expect Paimon will have a part to play, one way or another.

Stolas mentioned in Seeing Stars that without the grimoire, his powers are rather limited. I assumed that the worst outcome for him at the end of Season 2 was being stripped of his status and grimoire, which would vastly reduce his raw power as well as the power his position in society affords him.

Obviously, the actual worst-case scenario would be the loss of his life, which it's assumed Blitz is trying to protect him from in the snippet from the trailer. But it didn't occur to me until now that even with my own certainty that he'll survive the Season 2 climax, there was a third possible outcome... that along with his power and status, Stolas could also be stripped of his immortality.

#helluva boss #helluva analysis #helluva theory #helluva detail #stolitz #blitz #blitzo #blitzø #helluva boss spoilers #stolas #ghostfuckers #apology tour #full moon #helluva boss full moon #mission weeaboo boo #helluva boss shorts #onehelluvafan

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o0katiekins0o · 2 days ago

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I was raised by insanely anti-choice evangelicals. My own personal anti-choice dogma, however, died a slow death until taking its final rasping breath when I turned 23.

I was a first time mom to a newborn and a newly minted labor doula besides. I bonded with another young woman my age who had a son a few months older than mine and fell pregnant with her current partner.

I was going to get to be her doula and I was thrilled to bits!

Then one day she messages me- She's not pregnant anymore. She's okay but she doesn't feel like talking about it.

After a few days I send her a message. Something along the lines of my heart goes out to you etc... and she asks to meet.

I come to her house and we sit down on her couch.

She looks me in the eyes and says "it wasn't a miscarriage. You don't have to grieve for me like it was, but I couldn't take it if you judged me for having an abortion. He [her ex] hurt me. He was going to hurt my son."

She tells me he'd been getting getting violent. And after she fell pregnant she learned he'd sabotaged her birth control. He'd made it clear he would use the baby, and his wealthy family's money, to make sure she was chained to him by this baby and no one- not even her first baby from a previous relationship, would be allowed to come between them.

She acted solely for the safety of her first child. And I knew in my bones right then and there I would have done the same thing.

Without the complication of a pregnancy to gum up the works in the legal system she was able to escape with her baby from an abuser with relative ease. She got a VPO and restraining order and, to my knowledge, hasn't heard from him again.

Abortion saved lives that day.

#abortion is healthcare

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gaywineauntsstuff · 14 hours ago

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Birthdays

Dicks starts a tradition, for every first birthday one of his loved ones spends with him, he gives them a part of his heart.

Jason: Dick isn't there for Jasons first birthday at the manor because well... he isn't exactly welcome at the manor but he snuck Jason his number weeks in advance to make sure Jay would be at his crappy apartment the day after his birthday. And he gives Jason a collection of poetry his mother had written while they had traveled around the world. He had memorised all of them many years ago but he wanted to give Jason something tangible to connect them together. He might not be related to Bruce, he might not be Jason's brother by law or blood but Jason carries the robin name and Mary Graysons words so he is Dick's brother no matter what Bruce wants to say about it. Some of the poems aren't in English but they all flow beautifully and are written in the same black swirling script. Jason cries real tears and clings to Dick because this isn't something he can say he's had before. When Jason died, Dick took it from Jays room because he didn't allow it to be part of a mausoleum for his brother he wasn't going to let it be part of one for his brother.

After Jason comes back to life, and he's left Gotham he finds that familiar notebook in a safe-house he was sure Nightwing didn't know about with a post-it note on top reading.

I'm so glad you're back little wing

-DG

Tim: Dick and Alfred celebrate Tims birthday alone and Dick knows that Tim is struggling with who he is and his place in the family. Jason needed connection Tim needed purpose. Tim needed something to do to prove his value so on Tim's 13th birthday Dick teaches him the quadruple summersault. he teaches Tim the Full-Twisting Shaposhnikova his mother's favourite move on the bars and the moors. They spend all day practicing together until Tim can do a loose approximation of as many of his parent's signature moves as they can squeeze into one day. And every time Dick sees Tim for the next two months he asks for a spotter and they spend two odd hours practicing the moves. Tim never ends up incorporating the Flying Grayson's moves into his fighting style but he starts to follow Dicks habit of getting up high when he's stressed and working out all his frustration by practicing those moves over and over again until his body is pleasantly sore. Sometimes when Dick is on undercover missions, Tim will do one of the routines to help with the fact he cant reach his brother.

Damian: canonically Dick gave Damian a trapeze bar but that was long into his Robin tenure I believe it was after the Lazarus island debacle. So I think that by the. time Damians 11th birthdays rolls around, Dick and Damian have a pretty solid relationship and the first thing Dick would have given Damian was his father's unfinished sketchbook which contained the original designs for the robin costume. This book is Thick and its not like a modern sketchbook no, John Grayson found this leather bound monstrosity in Egypt and paid pennies for it. Its so dense that its filled with about 3 years of drawings and still has more the half of its pages a yellowed blank canvas. Damian, who is naturally talented at art and was encouraged by Dick to try and find non-vigilante methods of enjoyment has already taken up drawing months prior but this gets him to start practicing with fervour. He tries hard to mimic John Grayson's art style before eventually giving up at trying to create identical pieces and just incorporates various techniques the man used. For Dicks birthday that year he gifts him a portrait of his late parents but unlike the ones he's made for the manor, Dick's parents are in motion, with his John Grayson's grin stolen right off his sons face and Mary Grayson's boisterous laugh as she crashed into her husbands side could be heard in the famous cackle of her son.

now I wanted to do Cass or Steph or (maybe even Babs or Kori if I wanted to pivot from family to romance) but I genuinely the girl who has Mary Graysons wedding ring would

Donna Troy: Dick Gave it to her when they were still wonder girl and boy wonder. They were 14 and it was right after they had started the titans, back when it was a kids club more than a hero organisation. It was accompanied with a whispered confession of his identity, an identity the rest of their team wouldn't learn for another to 2 years. She wears it around her neck with a simple gold chain. She didn't take it off during her wedding or funeral, she was buried in it and came back with its barely there weight a comfort against base of her neck.

#nightwing #batman #jason todd #tim drake #robin #batfam #comics #damian wayne #dick grayson #donna troy #Dick and donna troy are my beloveds someone give me fic recs #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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the-guppy-fish · 19 hours ago

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Cold snake.

Tags: colleagues to friends to lovers, hesitation, confessions, callsign: Viper, its a little long, but! smut will follow, 3 parts...maybe more to come.

Content warnings: none. (other than my possible spelling mistakes)

Summary: Ghost being a little soft...for now. (2,8k words)

About Vipers: named after the family Viperidae, they are venomous and have long hinged fangs that permit deep penetration and injection of their venom. These snakes can decide how much venom to inject depending on the circumstances. Rattlesnakes for example, have evolved the strike-and-release bite mechanism, which provides a huge benefit to snakes, by minimizing contact with potentially dangerous prey animals.

Vipers come in many different sizes and colours, they are highly adapted to their environment and the type of prey they hunt.

You and Ghost fled the warehouse. The mission had been successful. While Ghost kept the coast clear, you retrieved the confidential documents, Price wanted you to secure from a target warehouse. Once the documents were safely tucked inside the pocket of your tactical vest, you gave Ghost the sign to get out of there.

Just as you left the warehouse, you heard Price in your earpiece,

"Ghost, Viper, get the hell out of there. Enemy activity confirmed by drones. Safehouse Foxtrot-Whiskey-Bravo is clear. Pick-up tomorrow at 1700 at the safehouse. Radio-silence until then. Do not answer. Price out."

You and Ghost simply nodded at each other, silently running off in direction of the safehouse, while keeping eyes and ears open for any activity in and around the warehouse. Once you had laid back a decent amount of space between you and the rusty warehouse, running through tall grass sprinkled with frost, you walked the remaining distance to the safe house in silence, still being alert to your surroundings.

A few hours pass, and the sun begins to set. You're still marching towards the safehouse, now crossing a large meadow surrounded by trees. The cold creeps into your nostrils and fingertips, as the warming rays of sunlight slowly hide beneath the horizon. Your breath is visible, pulsing through the fabric of your balaclava in small clouds. Ghosts breath-clouds are much larger than yours, his huge lungs needing a lot more air than yours, to feed oxygen to all his muscles.

You can see the small safe house not too far away, hiding in between large pine trees. While walking the last few hundred meters, your eyes fall onto Ghosts back, clad in tactical gear and tucked-in weapons. The leg of his camouflage trousers slightly fluttering in the cold breeze, the grey fabric hugging his hips just right. Do you feel bad about looking? Not at all. It is not the first time your eyes linger on him, how could you not? When he is so largely built and looks like he has been sculpted by a group of goddesses, who knew exactly what they were doing?

Your relationship to Ghost used to be very professional. You only spoke together when needed. Always kept the conversation light and work-related. When you were surrounded by the rest of the 141, you barely even glanced at each other.

It was safe to say, you were surprised beyond your imagination, the day Ghost began small-talking with you.

A few weeks back, when you were home on base, the huge brute of man asked you, if you had had a good day. Just like that. Over dinner in the mess hall. While it was just the two of you. Normally you would have just ate in silence and then given the other a polite nod once you finished, and left. But no. You carefully chatted with him, being slightly SUPER suspicious of his friendliness. After finishing your meals, the conversation naturally died, and you went to each your dorms.

The following evening it happened again, and then he evening after that, and all the following ones. But always when it was just the two of you. Ghost would go completely silent if any one else joined you.

You slowly began to talk more and more, sharing more and more details of your lives. Even though Ghost rarely shared anything from his life. If he did, oddly enough, he mostly shared about his favourite meals or new movies in the telly.

You began to talk throughout the day, not just at dinner. When he caught you in the briefing room or in either of your offices, he initiated a conversation, eyes fixed to your face, looking at every little polite smile and expression you made.

But always, when you two were alone.

One time, Soap walked in on one of your conversations in the common room. You had stood with your back to Ghost, rummaging in the small tea-kitchen, trying to make a cuppa for the both of you. Ghost watched your every move, how your clothes hugged you frame, while listening intently.

You did not notice Soap entering, before turning around and only seeing Soap.

Ghost nowhere to be found.

"Who are ye talking to bonnie?", Soap looked at you with confused eyes.

"Uhm, I was just talking to Ghost." you answered, perplexed at Ghosts sudden disappearance.

"Seems like he flew away, bon. Don't feel bad about it, you know how he can be." You tried to hide your disappointment, while Soap eyed the second cup of tea in your hands with large puppy eyes.

When you met Ghost later that evening at dinner, he initiated conversation as he did every dinner, but the conversation failed to reach around his disappearance. You let it go, thinking he had to leave for some important reason unbeknownst to you.

The conversation moved along, you finished eating and you chatted back and forth, like some table tennis ball experiencing the match of its life.

While talking you accidentally unconsciously touched his arm, which was resting on the table you ate at, while telling a (to you) very exhilarating story about your latest attempt at making a new soup at home.

You were so enthralled with your story telling, that you completely disregarded the shift in Ghosts form.

He went from sitting sluggishly, resting his elbows on the table, arms crossed, and looking at your lips, while you rambled on and on about that soup.

Ghost cared little about soup, but when you spoke about it, it seemed to be the most interesting topic of conversation ever. When your fingers found his forearm and snaked around his bare skin, he froze. His mind short circuiting and vision blurring. Still looking at you, feigning his newfound interest of soup, every fibre in him focussed on your soft skin on his rough and scarred one. He fell deeper and deeper into the blur your touch had created in his mind. All his thoughts vapourised and no sound was picked up by his ears.

All to sudden, Ghost was ripped from his hyper focussed state by your voice.

"Ghost? Hey, what do you think?" He blinked the fog away from his eyes, cleared his throat, and croaked out a quick "sorry?", focussing his eyes on yours, mind still running laps in his skull over your fingers resting on his arm.

"I asked, whether you think the soup would be better with or without garlic?", you looked at him with a small smile, expecting his answer curiously.

Ghosts ears peaked at your question, and he could not avoid the small smile forming on his lips under the fabric covering his face.

"With." was all he managed to say, which earned him a satisfied smile from you.

"I'll try that next time then."

With that, you gave his arm a quick squeeze and lifted your fingers from his skin to pick up your tray. Your touch and bold display of comfort around him made his mind grow foggy again.

"You done as well?" You stood up with your hands on your tray and nodded to the one beside him. He gave you a silent nod, and you pulled his tray across the table to balance yours on top of it.

While you went up to return the trays, Ghost sat completely stunned, waiting for you to return, so he could walk you to your dorm (another thing he had absentmindedly begun doing).

Back in the meadow, you and Ghost had reached the treeline and made it to the poor example of a safe house: a simple shed, neatly tucked away by the large pines, small enough for you to question whether there was space enough for two rooms in it.

And you were right. The sheds interior consisted of a small fireplace, a bunkbed, a large chest and a table with two chairs. Everything looked well used and ancient in your eyes, the smell of old cigarettes and firewood confirmed your suspicion about this place being many decades older than you.

Ghosts deep voice tore you from your disappointed thoughts about the safehouse.

"You're on top." While he began stripping out of his gear, placing it neatly beside the lower bunk, he had claimed for himself.

You followed along, closing the wooden door and bolting it shut with the large piece of wood acting as a lock. You laid your gear at the foot-end of your bed, as to keep it close while you slept, should anyone want to pay your shed a visit during the night. Your gut told you that this place was safe enough, for you to relax in. The remote location, the bolted door, and Ghosts presence, assured you that this was good enough for tonight.

Neither you nor Ghost lit up the fireplace, knowing the smoke outside and light from inside the shed could lead anyone to your super cozy hiding spot.

After having settled into the thin mattress, under a thick wool blanket Ghost had pulled from the chest, you tried to get some rest.

But sleep never came to you, as the cool air crept inside and under your blanket. For what felt like hours, you laid crumpled up like a small ball to keep, whatever heat was left, close to your body. But nothing worked, the cold bore into your skin and settled uncomfortably in your bones.

You scolded yourself: as a special forces soldier, you were supposed to fend for your self in every possible way; and you usually did so, perfectly.

But this never ending, merciless cold was going to beat you.

Your stubbornness kept you from climbing down to look for another blanket. But also the thought of waking up Ghost; anyone who woke him up from his precious few hours of sleep, would feel his wrath in the morning.

So you stayed. Freezing and shivering under your heavy blanket. Just existing in the coldness, hoping that some heat would come your way, at some point.

Heat never came, but a deep voice did instead.

"Viper?" Ghost called out quietly.

Your teeth clattered at you let out a weak "yeah?".

Ghosts gravelly voice made its way to your ears again, "If you don't stop shaking my bunk with your shivers, you can sleep on the floor." His oh so humorous comment made you shiver even harder, and you mumbled a quiet "sorry", wrapping the blanket impossibly tighter around you.

Once again you tried falling asleep, willing the shivers to stop, only for them to return with even greater force than before.

You heard Ghost sigh from his mattress beneath you. The bed croaked and you sensed a shadow move in line with your eyes, over the edge of the bunk bed.

Ghost had gotten out of his blanket-cocoon and stood centimetres from your icy face.

"Did you not hear me before?", his hot breath fanned over your frozen features, warming you just enough to answer him in a full sentence.

"I did..sorry.. I just can't get warm." Your voice came out much weaker, than you had hoped for, and seemingly did nothing to stir empathy within Ghost. As if not accepting your weak apology, he pulled the blanket from your shivering form and quietly said "get down."

Puzzled, you unfolded your cold body in a sloth-like motion, slowly climbing down the bed. You stood in front of Ghost, not believing that he actually wanted you to sleep on the floor.

After all, you were the same rank, so he could not order you to do it. So you stood before him, shivering furiously, waiting for him to actually tell you to sleep on the hard, wooden floor, just so you could weakly scold him for trying to punish you.

He said nothing, sat down on his mattress and rolled in under his blanket, his back facing the wall. You stayed on your feet, absolutely confused beyond your mind.

You knew Ghost could act weird from time to time, but this was beyond the usual weirdness of him.

The moonlight from outside only cast enough light inside, for you to make out the outline of his body. Once he had settled, he opened the blanked towards you, which only sent a waft of cool air towards you. As you stayed on your sock-clad feet, still so, so confused, Ghost quietly told you "come 'ere. Can't 'ave you freezing like that."

And like a much faster sloth you slid into the oh so warm comfort of his strong arms and the thick blanket covering him. He wrapped his arms around you, making sure that the blanked covered every millimetre of you.

"Christ Viper, you're like an icicle." His hot breath fanned over your head as he pulled you into his warm embrace.

Your shivers slowly ebbed out, leaving you smushed up, face first, against Ghosts t-shirt covered chest, arms awkwardly tucked close to your own chest. You became embarrassingly aware of just how close you were to one another.

You tried to shimmy away from him, just a little bit; get a some space between the two of you. Keep it professional, you know. But a strong hand around your middle kept you close.

"Stay", Ghost whispered, hugging you closer again, wordlessly telling you that he didn't mind you being this close to him.

With the warmth seeping into your body, the words returned to your mouth in a quiet whisper, "I thought you wanted me to sleep on the floor."

A quick, exhale blew onto the top of your hair and his low voice sounded above your head, "I did" , followed by an even quieter whisper, "but then i remembered, that i like you."

Heat rose to your face, warming your cheeks. You knew Ghost tolerated you, maybe even enjoyed your company from time to time, he definitely liked looking at you, based on how often you felt his eyes on you.

But that he liked you. Oh boy.

"I didn't know you liked me", you whispered into his chest, raising your face to look up at his moonlit, masked one.

His eyes found yours in the dim light, "I do. 'ave for a long time."

Ghosts rough fingers slowly slid up along your spine, fingers gliding over the soft fabric of your shirt. His fingers reaching and curling around the, now warm, skin of you neck. You felt his thumb soothingly swipe back and forth on that very soft patch of skin on the side of your neck.

You hummed at his admission, melting into the touch of his fingers on your skin.

Not knowing how to respond verbally, you turned your palms from your own soft chest, to his much more muscular one, gently squeezing his muscles, to let him know his whispers were heard.

The warmth had truly settled inside you by now, and your eyelids grew heavy, threatening to block the view of Ghosts dark, moonlit eyes looking at your tired ones.

During a dangerously slow blink of your eyelids, Ghosts hand squeezed your neck; just enough to get your attention, but not hard enough for you to open your heavy lids in attention.

"Get some rest Viper. Sleep well." His whispers made a tired smile tug at your lips, and you responded with another whisper.

"Goodnight Ghost."

In front of your closed eyes, a satisfied smile grew behind Ghosts mask. His eyes glanced over your face, taking in the sight of your calm face: eyes closed, brows at ease, just a hint of a smile on your lips and deep, steady breaths blew quietly through your nostrils.

He almost couldn't believe that you were actually sleeping in his arms. He could almost not believe that he had had the courage to pull you close and be soft with you.

His troubling and traumatic past made him fear close relationships, afraid that the people close to him would get hurt. With you though, it was different. Ghost knew you could handle any challenge thrown at you, just like himself. He knew how strong and capable you were, and it pulled him closer to you. Made his heart skip a beat or two, when ever your mere presence filled the room with authority and control.

He had wanted to let you this close to him for a while the last many many weeks, but could never muster the bravery, and did not want to scare you away. To not make you think he was some creep, like other soldiers on base, he took it slow; showed you more and more of himself in adequate amounts.

Ever since your soft fingers had snaked around his arm that evening in the mess hall, he had wanted to reciprocate the comfort and affection, but an occasion had never come along.

Until now. And he was filled with glee, deep into the marrow of his bones.

Ghost held you a little tighter, feeling your body against his. He sucked in the warmth of your skin against his and sweet smell of your hair. His smile only growing larger and more giddy (not an emotion, Ghost was truly familiar with yet)

Gently, he brought his masked lips down on your forehead, giving you a feather light kiss.

"Sweet dreams little snake"

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley x oc

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littleplantfreak · 1 day ago

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Currently Seeking: A Soul Connection

Grim Reaper Hiragi x Reader Cw: mentions of death and...stomach issues? that's pretty much it Word Count: 800ish Hiragi's having a tough time getting your soul, but in the end neither of you really mind that. Kinda based on the game A Date with Death because I kept thinking about Ragi's halloween costume.

“We can’t keep doing this.” The voice grumbles from inside the bathroom. You’re sitting back against the door as you listen to him writhe in anxious agony. The pills you always give him work, just not immediately.

“I keep winning fair and square,” and the smile in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Sweat drips down his brow as he wonders how you could’ve won a game he rigged against you in the first place, though this certainly isn’t the first time you’ve sweet talked your way into him letting you play for your life. “I even let you choose the game this time, Toma!”

He doesn’t really have a choice, does he? Your ability to keep yourself alive is inherent and nebulous, marring his perfect track record as a grim reaper. It hurts both his stomach and his pride that you’re still on earth and not where your soul should be, at least according to the paperwork.

“As much as I enjoy our chats, please shut up. You aren’t helping my nerves.”

“You like my voice,” and he hears that little amused scoff you do sometimes. “In fact, I bet you’re totally soothed listening to me right now.”

“Yeah, every time I think you’re done talking it does tend to get better.”

“Rude bastards don’t get the porridge I’m cooking on the stove,” you call back, getting up to check on it. The only reason you make it is because he can’t stomach anything else when he gets like this, though why you’re going along with him and playing friends is beyond you. He grumbles and complains about how much he’d prefer you just give your soul up, but in about two minutes he’ll be out of the bathroom and sitting on your couch while you cue up whatever’s next in your watchlist on the TV.

Maybe it’s because he cares without saying it, or maybe you’re just lonely and this is the easiest relationship you’ve ever had to put effort into, but regardless you’re really starting to enjoy him being here.

Sometimes you’ll fall asleep watching a movie with him only to find yourself in your bed, no recollection of being carried. Other times when his stomach is at its worst, you’ll be swaddled on the couch, your favorite stuffed animal sitting next to you as if to comfort you in your now quiet house.

“Why don’t you just…take it?” You asked the question one day, curious since as far as you know he can just reap you whenever he wants.

“You’re not willing to give it up. It’d be worse for your soul in the long run if it was taken against your will. It’d be different if your body died, but to just take it as you are now could tear it in a way that’d make you unable to pass on, or worse.” His matter of fact tone recited it as if it’d been ingrained in him from birth, which according to him it has.

Now, the bathroom door opens, Toma’s face slightly less pale. His bowl sits on the side table with extra pills on a napkin next to it and a glass of water that he never asked for but takes gratefully. He’d never say it out loud, but maybe he’s not as bothered as he should be that you’re still alive, despite the constant stomach issues the stress brings.

The movie nights, the way you stretch your legs over his lap while you tell him about your day and the shitty people at work…even the way you tease him for slacking on the job after he loses yet another round of checkers or when the car that was supposed to hit you ends up braking right at the last minute. Even those moments seem to fill him with feelings he’s not used to. Bewilderment, slight concern, and something else that someone who wasn’t in his position would describe as fondness end up bubbling to the surface of his chest.

Your soul needs to move on eventually, but for now he’ll secretly enjoy these small respites where you both forget that fact. No one but him knows about the small smile that makes its way to his face when your head slumps on his shoulder yet again. Your warmth soaks into his skin reminding him of the warmth of the porridge from earlier.

It’s only polite for him to make sure you get to your bed. In fact, he could go so far as to say it’s necessary for the eventual completion of collecting your soul. Not because he’s concerned about your sore muscles, and definitely not because he loves the way your cheek rubs against his chest when he’s carrying you.

Of course not.

Later he’ll put in an extension on the paperwork for collecting you, citing various vague reasons for the delay and then he’ll wonder what’s going to happen on the next episode of Succession. He can only guess at how you’ll try to psychoanalyze the characters and how you’ll react to the spoiler he read on his phone earlier. Until then he sits on the edge of your bed while your cat kneads against his thigh, your soft breaths filling the room with a kind of warmth only you can bring.

#hiragi toma x reader #wind breaker x reader #mari writes #em is the reason i even know abt the game :0 #its cute u should play #i couldve made her beta read but its not even a whole thing #just a little one #did someone already write reaper ragi? ah well #my writing is all over the place but i wrote so PROGRESS!!!

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atrwriting · 14 hours ago

Text

epilogue – a jackson j. maybank story

hi everyone

****major obx season four spoilers ahead****do not even thinkkkk of pushing past this line if you have not seen the latest season

ok now that only season four viewers are here -- holy smokes. i will never recover. wtf. literally wtf. i had to write this because i needed closure. im hurting all over and i dont even know what to say. here is how i deal with the death of this very sweet boy who deserved so much fucking better

summary: jj meets his mother in the afterlife.

warnings: mentions of death, depression, loss of hope, anxiety, the afterlife

here's epilogue:

He didn’t realize it was supposed to feel like this.

This… whatever this is.

Fucking shit, he thought. He didn’t even know where he was.

The last thing he remembers is Kie.

There was an ache in his chest.

A real ache. One he hasn’t felt since he was a kid. The type of ache that he felt when his – old? first? fake? – dad would kick him around. Busted lip and cheek, whatever he felt like should be on the menu that day. He realized then that he wished he would’ve been with Luke rather than Groff in his last few moments, because at least he could walk off whatever Luke had in store for him that day.

Groff, he scoffed in his head.

The ache of missing Kie and his friends was beginning to mingle with his anger for Groff, his real dad.

It curdled in his chest – mixing with bile, blood, regret, guilt, shame, and anything else in his chest that would never get the chance to leave nor heal. It was grotesque and poisonous – spreading like sickness throughout his body – the only that reminded him that he was sentient.

Right, the present – where the fuck is he?

He whipped his head from side to side, like a scared animal in the forest. He had his legs spread shoulder width apart, defensive stance, and he had his elbows bent in front of him – he wouldn’t be bested twice, no – not after Groff, not after he already lost everything.

This was different than when he was destroying the storefronts of that one street – he thought he had nothing to lose then, but he was wrong. So fucking wrong. He had never been so wrong before, and his friends had never been so right.

It was then that JJ Maybank realized that if he had just listened to Kie or any of his friends a little bit more… Maybe… Just maybe…

There was no “maybe.” Groff’s blade was the killing blow, but his recklessness had been the beginning of his own end.

The end of his relationship.

The end of his friendships.

The end of any possibility of saving his business or home.

The end of being a Godfather.

The end of his own happiness.

The end of any fucking chance he had in a world that never stopped to remind him that he was fucked from the beginning.

All of that – and for what? For fucking what?

He died the exact way everyone said he would – because of his own stupidity.

That’s all folks, he thought. That’s the show. Most predictable fucking ending on this planet.

He felt the hot brew of emotion well from his chest rise into his throat, burning his esophagus like acid. It choked him. It beat his pain into his skin, blood, bones, organs, and psyche until it was the only thing he felt and knew.

He didn’t have any fight left in him. He usually flipped off any fucker that would dare demand authority – but he was done. He had lost everything besides the pain that plagued him in life – and he thought that was the worst punishment of all.

“…Jackson?”

He looked up then.

He realized he was surrounded by – well, he didn’t know. He just knew it was bright. Really fucking bright. He could hear wind somewhere – maybe flowing through trees, maybe making small boats sway in the waves, or maybe in the grass in the marshes. He really didn’t know – he couldn’t place anything. The sounds were familiar – he knew those sounds. His eyes were adjusting, blurred by tearsandpainandregretandshame and everything and anything in between. He knew those sounds – but not that voice.

However… he felt like he should.

“Mom?” he gushed, voice breaking. “L-Larissa?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” a voice whispered.

Her voice so sweet, like a flower petal. Soothing like getting out of a sticky situation that Pope yelled at him about prior. Warm like a beach day. It felt like everything he had been searching for and everything he couldn’t find all at once.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know –

Tears. That’s what he could do. That was all he could do.

“No, sweetheart –” warm hands were beginning to cup his cheeks, soft thumbs pushing away tears like they didn’t belong on his face. His cheeks were stinging hot with every emotion that welled within his chest, but the hands were a type of warmth that made him realize he was actually cold. So cold. Cold, lonely, and full of grief.

He realized then what all of those asshole adults were talking about all of his life.

His anger was a mask. Something he hid behind, something he used as an excuse to be reckless and a nuisance. What he really felt… what his real identity was… was grief.

JJ Mayback was full of grief.

He crumbled then – falling forward and wrapping his limbs around the woman – his mother – before him.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, tears flowing down his cheeks and onto her sweet-smelling silk shirt. “I’m so fucking sorry –"

“Shhh, sweetheart,” she cooed. “Everything is okay now. I’m here.”

Sobs racked throughout his chest, attacking the inside of his throat. His voice grew hoarse, unable to keep up with every emotion that exploded out of him. He had pushed it down for so long. So, so long. He didn’t even know It existed, much less that he could feel it for himself. He thought when people described this feeling they were lying or being fucking dramatic. They had to be lying. How could they be telling the truth about this? How could they live with this How could they fucking get through this without fucking killing someone or themselves?! Only kooks had the luxury of crying about their feelings or missing people who weren’t there anymore or expecting assholes to change when they had always proved they would never change. It hit him all at once. Over, and over, and over, and overandoverandoverandover. It hit him worse than anything Luke could’ve thrown at him, or any knife that Groff could’ve plunged into his stomach. Every tear… every fuckingtear…

He wanted to say either of his dads, fucking any of them – they didn’t deserve his tears. That’s what he would tell anyone that asked, and that’s what he would tell someone if this was happening to them.

But right now? Right fucking now? When he had lost everything? For real, no way of getting it back? No final card up his sleeve? No Pope to save him, or Kie to talk some sense to him?

Right now… all he could do was sob. Fucking sob.

“It hurts,” JJ cried. “It fucking hurts so bad.”

“I know, baby,” the woman wept. “I know. I’m so, so sorry…”

“I fucking hate him,” he spat into her shoulder. “I fucking hate them both…”

“I know…” she continued to weep, obviously overtaken with her son’s hurt.

He didn’t know what to do with this. By all accounts, he was a fuck up. Parents, teachers, and, frankly, no adults liked him. If he wasn’t consumed by grief, he would’ve pushed her away – as this feeling was foreign to him. However, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t – her grip around him was too tight and her embrace felt too warm.

“I can’t give you what you lost…” she spoke, wiping his tears as she pulled away to face him. “They will be here one day – your friends, and that sweet girl that I would love to meet – but hopefully not for a long time. I hope you can agree with me on that, sweetheart. Until then – there are so many people that want to meet you.”

He laughed then – almost akin to a scoff. “Bunch of people I don’t know? Bunch of people that would probably look down on me?”

“No, son –” she insisted. “Don’t speak like that ever. Not about yourself – not about the thing I am most proud of for creating. Do you understand?”

For whatever reason – he nodded then, but he unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t believe her – but how could he? Who had ever wanted to meet him? He would’ve scoffed at her, told her to fuck off like the rest of the people in his life – but he didn’t have the energy. Plus, something was different about her. Her face. Her voice. The look in her eyes when she was actually insulted when he had spoke down about himself. He couldn’t help but stare at her then, wondering why she felt differently about him compared to the rest of the people in his life who were supposed to protect him, love him, care for him – but didn’t. Would she be different? Could he trust her?

He stare at the rest of her face then. Soft, fair skin. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Skin that never had time to wrinkle. Hair that never had time to gray. Bones that never had time to get old. However, the one thing she couldn’t shake, and bothered JJ immediately… was the look in her eye. Pain. Hurt. Grief. Shame. Guilt. All mingling into one. All twisting and turning like the snakes in the garden that hurt them both. JJ knew that look. It was the same look he saw in the mirror, and the same feeling he felt in his chest.

He knew what type of person she was then.

Her life was taken from her… just like his was taken from him.

“I understand,” he spoke, voice breaking.

“I know you do,” she spoke, and the allusion was not lost on him. It didn’t have to be specified – JJ was not quick in life, as he could rely on Pope for that, but in death and purgatory or heaven or hell or wherever the fuck they were – he guessed he was. “Take us for a boat ride, son – and we’ll go home.”

He would never go home – at least not to the one that actually felt like home, the one he yearned for. He didn’t even know what his mother meant – much less wherever the fuck it was.

“I know you have doubts – and that it’s hard for you to trust –” she began, voice breaking as she fit her fingers in between his. “–but I’ve been hurt, too – by the same people that hurt you. Can you trust me? Just once?”

After all he had been through – he didn’t know how he had the strength to even lift his gaze to reach hers. Her eyes were glassy and red, almost raw. He didn’t like the look of it. He found himself wanting to wipe it way with a towel – anything to get it to go away. The same raw look in his eyes was the same raw ache in his chest, and he knew that she had felt the same way. They were mother and son, bound by the same curses and people that trapped them in death. The hurt those people inflicted – it opened and hurt – festering like an infected wound – demanding to be felt, and demanding to spread, demanding to infect everything in its fucking path and leave no survivors. There was no fight left in him, nor his mother. He didn’t have the energy to keep up his walls. His defenses. The things that kept him alive for so long in a world that wanted to crush him. He needed safety. He needed salvation. He needed a place to rest his head because for once in his fucking life he could admit that he wasn’t strong enough to even turn his nose up at the thing that only wanted to kick him down and keep him there. He needed… he needed… he needed –

“Just this once,” he spoke, squeezing her fingers back.

She led the way, and JJ Maybank embarked on his last ever adventure: getting to know the woman that had waited his whole life to meet and love him.

And he couldn’t wait to tell his friends when he saw them next.

---

love you guys lmk what you think xoxox

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pickleskisser · 2 days ago

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hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

#♠️ anon #did i do that right?#anyways #metalocalypse x reader #nathan explosion #nathan explosion x reader #william murderface #william murderface x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #toki wartooth x reader #metalocalypse #headcanons

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