#red blitz answers

[the-crimson-flash]

Go prank Jun by dying his hair pink.

"Heheh. Great idea, so great ive already slipped hair color into his shampoo bottle"

He said giggleing deviously

"Now we just wait"

He smiles evily

( @sillyjungrant )

[the-crimson-flash]

"i didnt i sware!"

"just go check it yourself" he grumbles

"cielo! peruru left a generator for you outside" he calls out to the blue flier

(hehehe hi @the-crimson-flash )

"Thanks bro i was getting a bit hungry"

"Tho u better not have used up half of the generator or im coming for u"

[buster-gallon]

"Buster Gallon would like to ask you something"

"Were you the one who set fire to the red blitz kite?"

(I am a glober and I don't want to show my main account)

"It was the nature that burned the kite, Glober. A thunderbolt destroyed his kite."

"I warned him."

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~A day in the life of the L/N family!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: all hell breaks loose when the host club pays an unexpected visit on the day the L/N family visits ➼ what to expect:  "what is your problem with me and Kyoya hanging out?” ➼ warnings: Angst ➼ Part Nine | Part Eleven

"I have never seen you so stressed before" Kyoya raises an eyebrow from the kitchen island where he's sat, watching on as you frantically blitz through cleaning the apartment "Yeah...it's...a whole thing, I get tense on days like this"

"I'm sure you are worrying over nothing" Kyoya took a sip of water "You could always help me instead of sitting there" Kyoya furrowed his brows as if the mere idea of him cleaning disgusts him. "I'd rather call one of our maids" you pause. "You could do that?"

Kyoya raises an eyebrow "Yes, you know that all employees of the Ootori family also answer to you yes? I can have a cleaner here in five minutes" You send kyoya a dead pan stare "If you knew that this entire time why have you been watching me stress clean all morning?"

Kyoya shrugs "I thought you just liked to clean" your jaw drops "Who likes to clean?" Kyoya rolls his eyes through a laugh, picking up his phone "We should just about have enough time, ill send a message over now"

As if on cue the door knocks as he places the phone back down on the counter. "That was...fast" you squint at the door in skepticism. "Unless...no..."

Kyoya shot out of his seat, you wearily approached the door, quickly fixing your hair and taking a deep breath before opening it.

To your surpise it was not a maid or even your expected guests.

"Y/n-senpai!" The members of the host club cheered in unison, Haruhi standing awkwardly behind them. "What-How- are you here?"

"You said we could come, remember? You said that if we stopped fighting we could visit you" Hikaru smirks deviously "Then the rest got curious and tagged along" Kaoru chimed in.

"Yes but not now! Look guys this really is not a good time maybe-"

"Y/N is your- oh." Kyoya appears in the hallway, freezing at the sight of the other hosts "Kyo-chan?" Honey's head tilts to the side as the rest of the club stare at him in confusion "What are you doing in y/n-senpai's apartment?"

"Y/n! You let Kyoya visit you before the rest of us! Alone! I am horrified! You should know that it is inappropriate for a young girl to be alone in the home with a man. Especially before marriage!"

You raise an eyebrow "Tamaki, you know that Kyoya own's my apartment right?" you don't understand Tamaki's babble at the best of times especially not now. "Oh, so he's your...landlord?"

"More just that I'm staying in one of his family's properties, I don't pay him rent, anyway like I said now is really not a good time so-"

"Are you two on a date?" Kaoru points between the two of you "No! No, I just, we were just...." you sigh "My family is coming to visit today"

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A day in the life of the l/n family!

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"I keep forgetting that your family lives in europe" Haruhi helps you make tea after being (reluctantly) convinced to let them in for a little bit until your family arrives. "Yes well...they figured it would be best since most likely I will end up living in Japan, also to get to know Kyoya"

"This is a nice place Y/n-chan, cute!" honey swings back an forth on his seat, opening the box of cake he had brought with him. "Yeah well normally I would not do this but if I could ask you guys to not make a mess"

"Do you not have a maid y/n?" Hikaru questions, which normally you would answer no however it does remind you that Kyoya had called for a maid a while ago now. "I...personally no, however... kyoya?"

Kyoya was already on the phone before you had to really needed to ask him."I see...okay...no...no...yes... you might as well...okay." he sighs as he hangs up "small problem."

"huh?"

"There is a large crash on the road, apparently it has completely closed off, the driver has had to turn back otherwise he would not be back in time to pick up your parents" your face falls "You're joking"

You knew that Kyoya wasn't, he doesn't do stuff like that. “Okay! Well, great to see you guys but no offence you all need to leave”

“Aw come on y/n” the twins chorused. “I need to get this place clean” you remain firm. “We could help y/n-Chan!” Honey butts in. “Huh?”

“Yes, good idea honey. We will help you clean and then in turn we will be spending more time here and less time of you and Kyoya alone” tamaki puts a finger to his chin.

“Non of you have cleaned a day in your life, and what is your problem with me and Kyoya hanging out”

“Hey! It can’t be that hard” hikaru cries "We can get this done really quick with all eight of us"

"Alright gentlemen!" You know that there is no arguing once Tamaki switches into this mindset, the host club lining up like a military troup. "We have one hour until Mr and Mrs L/N will be arriving" he marches up and down the line.

"The twins take the living room, Mitskuni and Takashi take the bathroom, Kyoya and I will take the kitchen and the girls will do the bedroom"

"Yes sir!" the host club salutes, rushing off to work before you get to do anything. This is going to be a disaster, you just know it. "I should have just let them continue fighting" You mutter to yourself before heading into the bedroom with Haruhi.

"Are you okay? You seem really stressed out over your family visiting”

You sigh “they just…have very high expectations for me is all, I’m an only child, so for the sake of the family company they have to rely on me to get a good education and marry well”

"I didn't realise there was that much pressure on you"

"We don't like to talk about it in the host club but that is just kind of how it is in our world. Tamaki is in a similar position to me, we were both sent to Japan to increase our families standings."

"Wow" haruhi mutters, dusting off your windowsill "Don't worry, we're all still ridiculously rich it isn't all bad, in full honesty the engagement I have to Kyoya has done more good for me than it has bad. Which is why I cannot give my family or his any reason to break it off"

"Would they do that? I mean this has been arranged for a while hasn't it?" you nodded "we were thirteen, but my father can be....easily offended, and I have gotten the impression that Kyoya's father is the same"

A crash in the other room catches both your attentions "Oh god"

low and behold once you run out into the main living area there was the twins and tamaki, wrestling on the floor along with your entire couch dismantled and scattered around the room. "You have got to be kidding" Your face fell at the sight, you could already feel the tears welling up inside as you realise that you had maybe ten minutes left until Kyoya's driver will arrive.

"Are you guys kidding? What on earth are you doing?" Haruhi yelled out, grabbing the attention of the three boys on the floor, honey and mori stood awkwardly in the corner, Kyoya strangely missing.

"What is the mat-" Kyoya appears from the bathroom, pausing at the sight before him, letting out of sigh at the scene. "Kyoya-"

"Out."

"huh?" even mori looked spooked by the glare that Kyoya was giving them "you all showed up unannounced, y/n was nice enough to let you in for tea despite preparing to see her family for the first time since summer which you all know well how important said meetings can be, and you mess up the apartment even more than before you had arrived. You all can leave now"

"Kyoya?" Tamaki looks concerned, you look concerned, Kyoya can often have a temper but not like this "You have done enough Tamaki"

The twins and Tamaki slowly pull themselves off the ground, clumsily putting the couch cushions back in place, muttering sorry's as they leave the apartment.

"thank you y/n-chan" Honey gives you a shy smile as him and mori follow behind. "Do you need help fixing this?" Haruhi asks, looking over the mess they left behind. "No i'm okay thank you Haruhi, thanks for helping anyway" Haruhi nods, leaving and closing the front door behind her.

Kyoya sighs, dragging his hand down the front of his face, stepping to the couch to fix it, leaving you stood frozen there. "You didn't need to do that"

"They're idiots, they know how much this means to you, espcially tamaki-"

"Kyoya-"

"There." he huffs, placing his hands on his hips as he takes in that everything is back to normal. "You didn't need to-"

"I know" he walks back over to you, eyes flittering over as he takes in your appearance, going to fix your hair "We can talk about this later if you want, we've got bigger fish to fry now." you take a deep breath, you had never seen Kyoya act like this before, you didn't know how it made you feel but it certainly made you feel something.

He wipes away a tear you didn't even realise was there "There, it's like it never happened. Ready?" you sigh, nodding. it was stressful whenever your family comes to visit, but this time it feels more managable. Since when had the two of you become so comfortable?

Next time on patience 'Big brother is a prince!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372

[lost-romantique]

Me the moment Stolitz becomes a love triangle...

NOTHING YOU PEOPLE SAY WILL EVER CONVINCE ME THAT A LOVE TRIANGLE IS A GOOD IDEA!!

*cough* This is to address the concerns that people have been messaging me on reddit and tumblr.

~~~

Oh Stolas needs to experience a healthy romantic relationship...

The man needs friends. For fucks sakes, stop trying to get in his pants and get this man to join a fucking book club or something. He's lonely.

Don't you think it would be romantic if Stolas actually chose to be with Blitz in the end?

Why does Stolas choosing Blitz always have to involve Stolas breaking the heart of another guy in the process?

I want Stolas to experience that fairy tale romance.

They don't exist.

We can get more jealous Blitz.

No, we are getting more "Depressed Blitz that thinks he's gonna die alone because this man has a major inferiority complex the size of fucking Jupiter."

Blitz already had his chance...

The man didn't even know he was taking a test?

Blitz needs to fix himself first before he gets in a relationship with Stolas...

Blitz needs to deal with the root of his intimacy issues, yes. However, the idea that someone has to fix themselves in order to be in a relationship is a rather ableist viewpoint I do not condone.

Stolas also has problems that prevent him from getting in a normal relationship, but that's a whole other can of worms I don't want to open.

Blitz made Stolas cry!

STOP. IGNORING. HIS. FEELINGS.

This man has been in the verge of sobbing his eyes out in Full Moon and Apology Tour, and y'all didn't notice because Stolas didn't notice.

A love triangle will save their relationship.

Oh yes, who needs proper communication when the true answer all along was introducing a new person to the trash fire that is their problems. /j

Blitz and Stolas should just remain friends, and go find other partners.

Blitz has a body count of people he could have ended up with, but he didn't give a shit about any of them because that damn bird changed his brain chemistry so hard he went to a Party dedicated to hating his sorry ass.

And Stolas...

couldn't even forget about the motherfucker after going 25 years no contact. Do you honestly think he's going to get over him now after falling in love with the guy?

I'll be blunt, these guys also have way too much history together to remain "just friends" and stay "just friends".

Do I think they need to know each other as friends first before they start a serious relationship? Of course! But I also think these guys are gonna suck at being "just friends" and remaining "just friends".

Blitz and Stolas aren't endgame.

If these idiots were not endgame, than Brandon and Viv wasted four years of ours and their time on a relationship that was never going to come into fruition.

Also, the show is about Blitz and has always been about Blitz. The reason why Stolas is such an important character is because their building him up to be this red lizard's main love interest.

I am so tired. 😫

[jjkamochoso]

Helooo sorry to barge in!

I was hoping maybe you do a creation of one of Kaiju no 9 of making humans but he left her thinking she's a waste of creation.

The JAKDF found her though she was dead (inside a pod that contains some water and oxygen mask for humans to breathe)

Then the container suddenly opens and Hoshina out of reflex catches fem reader.

These might be time consuming so sorry about that but you can take your time of wanting to do this but even if you ignore it I don't mind. Ok! Thankyouuu for your time!!🤝🏻✨✨✨

Hello and welcome to my blog!! Thanks so much for this request, this is such a cool idea!! I’m sorry it took so long but I very much appreciate your patience😁🫶 I hope you love this!!

Too Cute to Be a Kaiju

Angst, Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x f! reader

Warnings: description of medical paraphernalia (oxygen masks, tubing attached to body, etc.)

You felt… incredible. Invincible, even. Of course, that was after the excruciating pain that had been inflicted upon you for the past who knows how long. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt sunshine on your skin or what a breath of fresh air tasted like, but you also couldn’t remember what it was like to feel so powerful.

And then everything went black.

Kaiju No. 9 had been quiet for the past month.

Too quiet.

Soshiro Hoshina frowned at the news, or lack thereof, being reported to him about No. 9’s whereabouts by a soldier tasked with the unfortunate job of being at the brunt of the JAKDF’s finest’s frustrations.

“…and there was nothing to report there either. Our operations team did report a sudden spike in fortitude levels near an abandoned cave, but the excavation team didn’t make note of any evidence of No. 9 having been there-”

“Hold on. Where was that?” Soshiro interrupted, his bored expression turned immediately interested.

“Where was what, sir?” the solider replied, the shake of nerves overtaking her voice.

“The spike in fortitude levels. Where was that at?”

“At… at a cave, sir,” she swallowed thickly.

Soshiro fought the urge to grab her by the collar and shake the answer out of her, instead choosing to grin sarcastically.

“I got that part. Any idea which one?”

“Um…” She flipped through the pages of reports in her hands with fervor. “Here, sir.”

He took the paper from her outstretched hand. A singular red dot stood out on the black and white map, its location just outside Third Division’s city boundaries.

Thanking her, he handed it back. “Did anyone follow up on this irregularity?”

She shook her head no and Soshiro’s eyebrows furrowed.

“That’s all. Thank you.”

“But the report, sir, I’m not done-”

“Are there any sightings of 9 in there?”

“No sir.”

He shrugged. “Then I’m good. I’m releasing you from report reading duty to go do something more worthwhile.”

The soldier, albeit confused, saluted him and walked out of his office. Rubbing his face with his hands, Soshiro took in a breath.

Looks like I’m going spelunking.

A few days, tons of arguing with higher ups, and plenty of paperwork later, the vice captain of the Third Division found himself facing the depths of a cave on the coast outside Tokyo. He was allotted two soldiers to go with him in case something went awry, both of which were currently arguing over who had to enter the suspicious looking cave first. While they were occupied with each other, Soshiro pulled out his tablet and began to measure fortitude levels in the surrounding area. For several minutes, the reading stayed at zero, signaling that nothing of concern was residing there.

Maybe it was a fluke.

Without warning, the fortitude level readings pulsed with numbers fluctuating between 1.4 and 7.6. Soshiro’s eyes blitzed away from the screen and began to scan for an immediate threat, yet he found none. As quick as it began, the levels went back down to zero.

“Have you two stopped bickering and figured out which one of you is heading in there first?” Soshiro addressed the squabbling soldiers.

“Since you’re in charge, sir, we think you should,” one of them said after a moment’s pause, causing the other to nod along eagerly. Soshiro sighed and entered into the depths, his fingers itching for the safety of his blades.

The cave was like a labyrinth; it would be a feat for Soshiro’s small team to be able to retrace their steps to the entrance when they were done exploring. Keeping an eye on the fortitude readings, there was no change while walking the first few miles of the underground tunnel. All of a sudden, like before, the tablet alerted Soshiro to readings ranging from 3.3 to 8.5. He pressed on, his soldiers cowering behind their vice captain like scared children. The pathway of the cave started to narrow and Soshiro felt his heart pound with unease. Before long, he was struggling to fit through the tunnel. With the little light he had emanating from his flashlight, he saw that the tunnel has been damaged by some sort of explosion, leading the walls to cave in on themselves.

As if someone—or something—had been trying to hide what they were up to.

There’s something here. I know it.

With one final squeeze over fallen rocks, Soshiro and his team were rewarded with a change of view. They had come upon a wide open space, with stalagmites gracing the surrounding areas. Sticky air permeated this part of the cave and Soshiro’s lungs struggled to work in the thick atmosphere.

“What is this place?” piped up a squeaky voice.

“We’re here to find that out,” murmured Soshiro, his flashlight lighting up the walls to gain a sense of his surroundings. “Take a look around and report back if you find something.”

“I found something!” yelped the other solider, his flashlight quivering, casting moving shadows on the…

The…

What exactly was that?

Soshiro inched closer, wanting to investigate. There was no way that was what he thought it was. As he moved in and realized what he saw, his eyes widened in shock. Standing tall in the middle of the cave was a giant tube filled with some sort of liquid. Floating inside the tube was a woman, a thin white gown covering her body and an oxygen mask covering her mouth. There were various small tubes and cords running off of her, but nothing seemed to be in working order.

She couldn’t be the source of the wavering fortitude levels…

Could she?

Against better judgement, Soshiro approached the tube. This discovery, no matter what it was, was going to be extremely important. It didn’t matter if this was a breakthrough for the JAKDF or just the local police force.

He was going to get her out of here.

“Is she a Kaiju, sir?” asked the soldier who found the woman first.

“I don’t see how she could be,” replied Soshiro, circling the tube, “but this is very strange.”

“She’s too cute to be a Kaiju,” remarked the other soldier and Soshiro glared at him, the soldier now averting his eyes in embarrassment.

Soshiro studied the woman for a good while, his hand clasped under his chin in thought. She must be dead since there was no way she could’ve survived down there with no food or water, suspended in water like that.

“What happened to you, hm? Were you experimented on by some sort of freak?” Soshiro wondered aloud. His tablet alerted him to a change in fortitude levels but he had no time to check it.

The pod burst opened.

Without even having to think about it, Soshiro caught the woman’s body with ease as she was flung out of the now opened pod door, water pouring out and soaking the both of them. Soshiro was thoroughly confused by what brought that on, but he had barely a moment to think before the woman’s eyes fluttered open and his tablet recorded no more instances of rising fortitude levels.

“Are you alright?” he asked, still holding her close to his chest.

“I… don’t know,” you croaked out, your voice rusty from disuse.

“Shh, don’t hurt yourself. I’ve got you, okay?” Soshiro reassured you, his firm grip a comfort on your aching arms. You didn’t seem like a Kaiju, going off of your looks, but there was no way you were 100% human. Your skin was much too cold for you to not be shivering, nor was it pruny from being suspended in water for who knows how long.

“Hey, dumb and dumber. Disconnect her from the tube, would ya?”

The soldiers, frozen in surprise at the alive woman in front of them, broke out of their stupor and pulled at the cords, unplugging you from your container.

“What’s your name, darling?” asked Soshiro, trying his best to keep a calm demeanor to get you to talk.

“I… I don’t…”

Your head felt like it was splitting in two. All of your memories were hazy. You couldn’t remember your real name, where you were from, or how you got down there in the first place. The only thing that was clear in your mind were the experiments done on you and a sinister voice calling you disobedient and a waste of creation. You didn’t want to think about your past anymore—you wanted to focus on the present, with the soft touch of a handsome man quelling your worries like you never had them to begin with. This man, who was holding you with such fondness, too much for a stranger like you, you thought, was making your chest pound like your heart would burst through at any time.

“Hey, it’s alright. Don’t stress over it. We’ll get you out of here and cleaned up, okay?”

The man gestured at who you assumed were his team. You didn’t care to look at them; you couldn’t take your eyes off the man with the bowl cut.

He looked very familiar.

“You… I know you…” you declared, staring into his bright purple irises, trying to place where you knew him from.

“Do you? I’m on the news a lot, you know.”

He flashed you a smile, his fangs barely peeking over his lips, but it was enough for the memory to come rushing in faster than the water rushed out of your pod. You flung yourself out of his grasp like his skin had burnt your own, putting a fair amount of distance between the two of you.

“Vice Captain Hoshina,” you called out, your breathing heavy as you grappled between restraining yourself and giving into your monstrous urges, “I was going to be sent to kill you.”

Soshiro only raised his eyebrows at your words, seemingly not worried about anything of what you just told him. He sauntered over to you without a care in the world, his goofy grin still plastered on his face.

That’s too bad. She really is cute.

Taglist: @kana-daydreams

[hazbinshusk]

day six of salem's unofficial attempt at kinktober: phone sex (blitzø x reader)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

You jump as your phone screen suddenly lights up the dim of your bedroom, your ringtone obnoxiously loud this late at night. You groan as you roll onto your side and grope blindly at your bedside table until you manage to grab the offending device, swiping to answer without looking at the caller I.D.

“Hello?”

“What’cha wearin’?”

“Blitz?” you ask groggily, wincing against the light as you move the phone from your ear long enough to read the time. “It’s three a.m. What d’you want?”

“Take a guess.” His tone makes his intentions obvious, a husky rumble that even in your half-awake state makes you shiver. “Gonna answer my question?”

“I’m wearing what I always wear to bed,” you point out, and you can picture the way he rolls his eyes.

“Take it off.”

“There’s a ‘please’ in there somewhere,” you say snidely, even as you sit up enough to pull your t-shirt off over your head. You shiver as you bare your skin to the room, your nipples pebbling under the caress of your air conditioner. You can just make out the sounds of traffic in the background of his call, and it thrills you to think he’s on his way to you.

“Now, the panties.”

You raise a brow indignantly even as you lift your hips and slide them down your legs. “Who says I took the shirt off?”

“I do.”

“And how would you know?”

“Same way I know you’re playin’ with your clit right now,” he sneers, and your hand freezes where it had begun circling your clit. “’Cause you’re a needy little slut who can’t say ‘no’ to me. And I fuckin’ love it.”

“Asshole.”

“Now there’s an idea…” he teases, and your breath catches as your fingers move on your clit again. “Oh, don’t you sound so fuckin’ pretty?”

“Blitz…”

“Pinch your nipple for me, baby.” he tells you, humming in approval as you whine in response. You squeeze it hard enough to hurt, the way you know he would. You can hear the sound of his van swerving, the squeal of tires as someone else hits their breaks in response. “Fuck, you sound so damn hot. Tell me how wet you are.”

You moan as you dip a finger inside yourself, and Blitz takes that as an answer.

“Fuck, you’re gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock, baby… such a good little slut for me.” Blitzø groans, and you can picture him, one hand on the wheel, the phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he palms his growing erection through his jeans. “Gonna fuck you so hard; I want to feel you shaking as I slide my thick red cock into your tight little pussy…”

“Fuck, Blitz…” you pump two fingers inside yourself, your other hand clutching at your breast. There are faint, yellowing bruises around your nipple where he’d sucked at your breast roughly the last time he’d invited himself over, and you dig your nails into them in the desperate hope of emulating the way his fangs feel against the soft, tender flesh. “I need you…”

“Yeah, you do, bitch,” he growls proudly, his breathing heavy, ragged. “Need me to fill you up and fuck you ‘til you can’t fuckin’ walk…”

You moan again, quickening your fingers inside you. He groans in the back of his throat as he hears the sound of it, and the noise goes right into your ear. It floods you with heat, your eyes rolling back as you begin rocking your hips up against your hand. Your palm grazes your clit, and you whine his name.

“Say it,” he orders gruffly. “Say you need me to fuck you like a desperate little cockslut.”

“I do,” you nod desperately, eyes squeezing closed. “I need you to fuck me, Blitz…”

“Then you know what to say, don’t you, bitch?”

You whimper, hand leaving your breast to rub at your clit in earnest. The phone is cradled against your ear, and you turn your head to pin it against the pillow, moaning into the receiver. Rolling onto your side, your thighs clamp around your hands as the stimulation begins to peak, but you force yourself to keep chasing that high, fingers desperate against your clit.

“Say it, slut, c’mon.” Blitzø urges, voice rough. “Say it.”

“Please, Blitz…” you whine, and he curses.

“That’s a good girl,” he replies. A horn blasts in the background, but all you can focus on is the way he’s breathing in your ear. “Ten minutes. And if you’re not soakin’ wet and bent over the bed when I get there, I’m gonna be pissed.”

[a-regular-amount-of-spiders]

When's The Last Time You Felt Safe (BirdFlash)

Birdflash Oneshot, 18+ Details Below

Caretaker Dom Wally, silly fluffy smut. Some Emotional Hurt/Comfort Dick winces as he tries to gingerly press an ice pack against his back, the top of his suit striped off on the floor. He’d been shot, luckily nothing that made it past his armor, but unluckily bruising the hell out of his back. He’s got green, purple, red, and blue dappled all across his body from the night, trying to get too many kids away from too many traffickers. His breath hitches as the memory of the limp bodies of the people he’d failed refuse to leave him. The mission had objectively been as successful as it could have been, but it didn’t feel like enough. He never felt like enough and he was just so very tired. Tired enough to miss the flash of red and orange as it blitzed into his room, but not so much that he didn't flinch as the ice pack was taken from him. He twisted around so quickly that his body screamed in protest, and he winced as he took in the concerned face of Wally, dressed in sweats and a soft shirt. You okay Rob?” Those verdant eyes stare down at him, the worry held within barely covering the steely stubbornness that lets Dick know that Wally won’t accept a lie right now. He shifts a bit uncomfortably, turning away, as though he could hide from the hurt festering in every grain of his soul these days. “You worry too much Walls.” He replies, instead of answering the question. Even looking away he can’t stand to lie to him. He hears the man sigh, and feels the air in the room circulate. When Dick opens his eyes, Wally is crouched in front of him, so he can make eye contact, resting his hands lightly on Dick’s knees. “Let me take care of you?” He asks, so earnestly that Dick feels guilty for the rush it sends down his spine, shame twisting in his gut immediately. Horrifyingly he wants to cry, as though he remembers how, and just let Wally bear the weight of the world for him. But he can’t, he couldn’t stand the guilt that would follow. Dick cannot allow himself to be selfish, it never ends well. So he swallowed thickly, and forced the correct words out. “You don’t have to do that.” Dick knows that’s what he’s supposed to say, which would prompt Wally, all midwestern politeness, to ask ‘are you sure’ and Dick would say yes, Wally would leave and he’d be all alone again, no one around, a poison no one wants- “I want to. Please let me.” Wally breaks the script, squeezing his knees and breaking Dick out of his thoughts. He’s saying “Okay” before he can even register that he’s spoken. But Wally is smiling so maybe that was exactly what he was supposed to say. “Do you want to be in something more comfortable?” He asks carefully, because Wally figured out ages ago that Dick got weird about touch sometimes, and now he always telegraphed, always asked. Dick hated it. He needed it, and he hates that he needs it. It was different when they were younger. He misses that. He nods though, because he never minds when Wally gets in his space, and he’ll be out of his suit before he can overthink it. There’s no one else who can do this for him, so he may as well take advantage of the times it is offered.

 Wally cleans up his things, and he thinks he hears his laundry starting which he’s been ignoring for two weeks now. Wally helps him change into sweats and it makes the heat of embarrassment swell in his chest, is he really this incapable? But there’s food in his lap and the tv is flipped on to a silly movie he’d mentioned wanting to see once, and Wally is asking if he can put some sort of ointment on his bruises so Dick doesn’t have time to dwell too deeply on it. He looks at the plate of warm pizza slices now in his hands, the box on the table from that place he’d found by the Titan’s Tower and always got for celebrations. “You ran to Jump City to get me dinner?” Dick mutters, unable to muster enough energy for incredulity just yet. “All things considered, that’s not very far for me” Wally replies, shaking the ointment in his hand with a raised brow. Dick nods, taking a bite of the pizza. It’s a comforting, familiar taste that warms his whole body. Nostalgia that chases the icy loneliness from the edges of his body. He scarfs it down quickly, feeling significantly better. He hadn’t realized how woozy and cold he’d felt until it went away. “Better?” He can hear the smile in Wally’s voice as he stands behind him, long fingers gently rubbing the bruise cream along the injuries spotting his back. Dick tries to pay attention to the movie, but the feeling of Wally’s hand skating so gently across his skin is better than any lullaby. A blanket is pulled over him, and the heaviness of the weighted fabric is soothing, but there’s a lingering self hatred lying in the shadow of Dick’s enjoyment. “Yeah” He responds, rough and quiet, feeling raw and shelled out. He shivers when Wally moves away. His friend plops down on the couch, propping one leg up so it’s resting against the backrest, and the other is hanging off the side. “C’mere Rob, I’ve got you.” Wally says, so painfully tender. Dick tips over curling against the lean line of his best friend, a long buried ache settling as those lithe arms wrap around him loosely. He shakes apart without a sound, he doesn’t know if he could make noise when he cried even if he really wanted to. Or if the strangled sort of way emotions tear out of him could even be called crying. Wally’s fingers card through his hair. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t press, doesn’t insist on seeing, but he doesn’t awkwardly turn away either. Wally comforts him in a way that helps, understands him in a way no one else ever bothered to learn. He’s a steady, patient presence at his side, and Dick can’t help but feel like an alley cat being coaxed from a crack in the wall. “A lot of people died today” He whispers into the fabric of Wally’s central city college shirt. The hand in his hair pauses, before continuing. So Dick keeps talking. “I should have found them faster. If I’d kept a better eye on my city then I would have known sooner and I-” He cuts himself off “I know that’s not reasonable. I know it won’t fix it. I just-” He wishes the crushing feeling would go away “I wish it got easier. I wish I didn’t feel this way every single time” Wally doesn’t tell him it isn’t his fault, doesn’t tell him he did his best, doesn’t give him the argument he wants and doesn’t need. Doesn’t give him the space to hurt himself on his own words. Instead he just holds him close, and says “I know, Rob” and somehow breathing gets easier. “You don’t have to stay.” Dick says, even as his arms wrap tightly around Wally’s waist. Even as he presses just a little closer. “If I leave, will you be able to sleep?” Wally asks in that measured tone, the one he uses when he knows the answer. Dick doesn’t answer, and feels petulant for it. He presses his face into Wally’s chest and cries more, letting his guard down for the first time in however long it's been since Wally stayed the night last. Dick cries, as much as he ever can, until he falls asleep, falling again, always falling.

Dick wakes up slowly, to the warm smell of a fresh made breakfast. He still feels like he’s falling until Wally's head peeks around the corner, hair a mess and grin wild, some dollar store apron tied with a messy bow. That’s when his body realizes that there’s someone here to catch him this time, that he was finally right to make the leap. He smiles back, hauling himself up to follow the delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen.

“You made breakfast?” Dick asks, despite seeing the huge spread across his too small dining table.

“Well I was hungry, and someone has got to take care of you” Wally’s voice is low in his ear and Dick shifts a bit uncomfortably. Why does he have to get so close when he says things like that? Next thing he knows, he’s sitting at the table, plate piled high with food, staring bewildered at Wally.

“I-” He blinks, adjusting to being moved somewhere by a speedster, “I can’t eat all these Walls.” He takes a bite of the pancakes, and groans “Nevermind, I’m eating everything at this table.”

Wally laughs “C’mon man, I know how to look after you by now.” His keen gaze suddenly makes Dick feel transparent, and a part of him frantically wonders why in god's name Wally has to talk to him like that, but he’s able to suppress his reaction with the ease of someone who’s been doing it since his teen years.

“You don’t have to help me this much, you know?” Dick protests weekly between bites. “No?” Wally hums noncommittal, pressing a glass of water into Dick’s hand. “And if I want to?” There’s something almost predatory about the way he asks it, but perhaps that’s wishful thinking. “Then…” He takes a sip of water  “Then go ahead I guess.” There’s a strange tension in the kitchen as he eats, Dick can tell Wally’s attention is more on him than on the food in front of him, which is making him feel a bit hysterical given that very little pulls a speedster’s attention away from their food. Wally’s gaze holds a weight to it, and Dick has to keep reminding himself that Wally is probably just worried. He resolutely ignores the part of his mind noting that he feels mostly alright now, and that Wally knows him well enough to see that. He finishes his food and tucks all his emotions in a box, standing and putting his plate away. The table is cleared and the dishes are done by the time he reaches the sink. He smiles at his friend, who still has that slightly too serious expression on his face that leaves Dick feeling off kilter, and on edge. He can tell there’s something being left unsaid, and Wally wants him to be fully aware of that. However, Dick can’t bring himself to ask. Irrationally and despite all insistence otherwise, he can’t prevent himself from being scared that if he asks, if they broach whatever conversation is hanging in the air, that Wally will put distance between them. He’s scared that Wally will ask for space, or tell him that he’s aware of and doesn’t share Dick’s feelings. That those feelings make him uncomfortable. Wally waits a moment, and can’t hide the disappointment that briefly laces his expression. Seeing that is like a lance, and Dick wants very badly to make it up to him, would that he knew the cause of the disappointment to begin with. “Wanna play a game or something?” Dick hedges, only relaxing when he sees Wally’s smile return. “How about you pick something to play, and I work out some of the tension in your shoulders and back? Your controllers have too much input lag for me.” Wally replies, following Dick into the living room, and watching him pick out a game. “Doesn’t every controller have too much input lag for you?” Dick asks, letting Wally pull him into the space between his legs, hands resting on his shoulders as he launches some game Tim had gotten him. “Victor made some specialty ones for me after I broke too many in the Tower. I think Tim has been making updated ones for Bart.” Wally massages his shoulders, head propped up on top of Dick’s so he can watch him play.

“Why don’t you run and grab them?” he replies, repressing a shudder as Wally’s hands smooth down his back, skillfully applied pressure releasing the long held tension in his back. Long fingers leave sparks of pleasant warmth in wake, overtaking the pervasive dull soreness. Dick is internally proud of his self control until those hands skate down his sides, grip resting firm on his hips so Wally can whisper in his ear; “You’re doing so well Dickie” Wally’s voice is low, his breath ghosting the shell of Dick’s ear. A bolt of arousal shoots down his spine and he is barely able to suppress the accompanying whimper. He really hopes Wally doesn’t look down, because then he’ll definitely never want to touch Dick again for any reason. “I’m not really doing anything” He replies, glad for how normal he sounds. He wants to bang his head into a wall until he has something resembling sense when Wally squeezes the meat of his thighs, because now even sitting still is a struggle. “Sure you are. You’re letting me help you. You’re trusting me” Wally is still extremely close, tone almost heady. His grip loosens so his hands can drift up Dick’s legs, thumbs resting on his more sensitive inner thigh. Wally keeps talking even though Dick’s breath is stuttering and he’s squeezed his eyes shut, holding perfectly still. “This okay? If it’s not that’s alright. I won’t be upset, all you gotta do is say. And we can go back to just hanging out” Wally sounds perfectly calm, and Dick hates him a bit for it, because Wally is brushing his fingers over the tent of his jeans and Dick’s head falls back against his shoulder as he gasps. “Yes. It’s okay, Jesus Christ Walls” His voice is high and ready as Wally dips one hand beneath his shirt, the other one palming him with just enough force to make Dick shake, legs jerking in response to the overwhelming pleasure that dances across all his nerves. Wally nips his ear, then starts mouthing at his neck. “You’re so gorgeous like this. In my hands, letting me do what I want. Letting me treat you like the precious thing you are.” His voice is gravely, and he tugs Dick flush against his chest, grinding forward into him. Dick chokes on nothing as he feels the burning warmth of Wally’s own arousal against him. The words are as effective as any touch, making Dick reach back and grab Wally’s hair, pulling until his face is the right angle to kiss. The kiss is messy and a touch desperate, vaguely following the rhythm of his hips as they roll. Wally flicks the button of his jeans open, biting down on his bottom lip, pulling away. Dick tries to follow eagerly, but Wally yanks him back by his hair, watching with dark satisfaction as it makes him keen. “Still okay?” He sounds breathless, and Dick nods eagerly. “Mind taking this to your room?” His thumb is stroking tender circles into his cheek, like he’s something delicate. Dick turns his hand to bite down on the tip of it, just to watch those green eyes widen, and hear his breath hitch. Dick looks up at him through his eyelashes, licking the pad of his finger.

“Please, Wally?” He lets the desperate little whine building in his throat twist the edge of his words, and hides a smile behind a pout when he sees Wally’s blush spread to the tips of his ears.

Next thing he knows he’s flat on his back, spread across his bright blue comforter, Wally kneeling between his legs. Wally grins down at him, shirt and pants long gone.

  “Can I strip you sweetheart?” He asks, rubbing the outside of Dick’s thighs. Dick cant help but think he looks gorgeous, pink down to his chest, freckles dappling his skin, and the sun catching his green eyes in such a way that Dick can see the flecks of yellow and brown. He nods, cataloging the way Wally looks, just in case he doesn’t get to see it again. The adoration in his eyes, the hard line of his dick straining against his black briefs, and those strong runner’s thighs spreading his own apart. Dick nods again, expecting to have it happen before he can even register it, but Wally takes his time, pulling Dick’s shirt off and kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Dick lets out a slow breath, tension releasing and back arching languidly into his touch. Wally stops at his shoulders, moving up to kiss his lips, slow and sweet.

“I want you to say it. Tell me what you want Rob.” There’s certainly a sharp edge to his voice, which makes all the blood vacate Dick’s brain. “I…” Dick takes a deep breath, trying to clear the haze that had settled over his brain. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to tell me what to do. I’m so tired of thinking, and making choices, I just wanna…” “Let go?” Wally finishes as he finally pulls Dick’s shirt over his head, then helps him shimmy out of his underwear and sweats. Dick watches Wally, loving the way his eyes flick across his body, like he can’t pick a place to look.

“Settle in Rob” Wally picks up his leg, pulling it over his shoulder and kissing down the length of it. “When I’m done you won’t be thinking of anything other than how amazing you feel. Wally bites his inner thigh, just below the apex of his hip. Kissing everything but the place Dick wants his mouth the most. Just as he’s about to open his mouth to complain- or beg, but no one can prove that- Wally licks across the head of his cock, and his tongue vibrates. Dick goes taught, back arching as he swears. “F-fuck!” he yelps “You can do that?”

“Perks of being a Speedster” Wally quips, kissing along the length of him, fingers encircling the base and vibrating. Wally has to hold his hips down as he takes him into his mouth, the sensation is so intense that before he knows it Dick is whiting out, coming down Wally’s throat with a reedy moan. Wally pulls off, kissing Dick and licking into his mouth, the taste of himself on Wally’s tongue has him groaning, wrapping his arms around Wally’s shoulders. His head feels fuzzy and the haze of pleasure leaves him forgetting why speaking without a filter as a terrible idea- “I love you so much Wally” He smiles blissfully. Wally, to his credit, doesn’t even pause.

“I love you too Rob, so very much. You’re so good and sweet for me. You’re doing so well.” Wally praising him has Dick squirming in his happy haze. “Fuck me?” He requests, hooking his free leg up high on Wally’s back to leverage himself such that he can grind up against him.

“Christ Rob” Wally groans, hips stuttering. “You’re so needy, gotta let me take care of you. I’m gonna be so good to you babe” He’s gone for just a moment, back before Dick’s leg can even lower, lube in hand. “Did you run while turned on?” Dick grins, distinctly amused, coherent thought returning slowly. Wally raises a brow. “What happens at that pace is between me and the speed force” He responds, pouring lube in his hand and stroking along Dick’s semi, tracing down along his perineum and circling Dick’s hole. Dick flinches at the slight vibration he feels before the finger is before pressing in. “You’re p-pretty good at that” He looks up at Wally, eyes almost black from pupils blown wide with want. It settles an ache he hadn’t realized had been weighing him down. Seeing Wally above him, blushing down to his chest, grinning like he can’t believe his luck, finally allows Dick to let go of the painful yearning he’s pushed to the backburner for over a decade.

“Yeah?” Wally grins, confident is a good look on him, “Just wait till I learn all your buttons” He presses another finger in, hooking them and managing to press right against Dick’s sweetspot. The hot molten feeling from before washes over his body again, leaving him shaking and floaty, nails digging into the lines of Wally’s back. He pulls himself up enough to moan right in Wally’s ear as he rolls his hips against him. “Don’t forget- you’re not the only one learning” He nips down the column of Wally’s neck, fascinated by the way that the bruises disappear from his pale skin. Wally’s rhythm breaks for a moment, and he can’t help his smug satisfaction and the way Wally groans like his orgasm was ripped from his chest. “You better be ready boy wonder, cause that was mean” Wally pulls his fingers away, but doesn’t actually do anything until Dick gives a beyond exaggerated “please”, which makes them both laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” Wally looks bright and unburdened by all the years that have passed between them as he presses into Dick. Dick can’t help but clench down at the feeling, squirming even after Wally presses to the hilt, hips twitching. Dick feels giddy, and full, and more relaxed than he can even remember ever being. He pulls Wally into another sloppy kiss, burying his hands in soft hair. “I love you Wally” He kisses the freckles on his face. “You’re perfect” Wally starts fucking into him at an almost blinding place, body humming like he can’t quite help it. He kisses all across Dick, like he can’t pick any given part of him. “Says the most perfect man I’ve ever seen. You’re so gorgeous, I’ve been wondering so long if you’d let me do this. Trust me like this.” Wally is talking almost too fast to hear, only years of practice enabling Dick to keep up. “I love everything about you, who you are, your smile, all the stupid shit that drives me insane. You’re so cute too, when you get all flustered. But I never could have imagined how you’d look like this. So pretty and sweet and relaxed-” Wally continues to praise him until they’re both babbling, and Dick isn’t really sure where the before and after points of their orgasms were. Only that eventually they slowed down, and Wally cleaned him up, fed him, and pulled him into his arms. And everything felt okay, at least right there, in that moment. Nothing was wrong. “I meant it Rob. I love you. I wanna be with you, if you let me.” Wally kisses his hair, rubbing his back. “It’s always been you, for me. Safety, home. Whatever you want to call it.” Dick looks at him, bright blue eyes as piercing as they always have been, complemented by the blush high on his cheeks. “I want you in every way I can have you.” “You deserve more than that, you know? Then taking what you can get” Wally lightly brushes the hair out of his eyes. “Hm, maybe you can prove that to me?” Dick smiles, unburdened.

[anontheghost]

So... What is the deal with Blitz's and Moxxie's upbringing?

Let's start by saying the obvious: Blitz’s and Moxxie’s families are almost exact mirrors to each other: They both have terrible, greedy fathers who just enjoy making their lives miserable and amazing dead mothers who we know nothing about except their cause of death and how much they are missed by their sons. 

The only significant distinctions are that Moxxie's story is splattered with glossy mafia paint and that his mother was drowned while he was still a very young child. On the other hand, Blitz's mother, Tilla, died when he was a teenager and was burned to death. The rest? Pretty much the same.

However, the similarities between their backstories are not really the problem; after all, in real life, we can find people who lived through similar traumas and that is a pretty interesting aspect to explore in fantastical stories as well. 

Many other shows have done it incredibly well (Bojack Horseman) but Helluva Boss failed in that department. 

The very interesting family dynamics were only bought at the surface level, not explored in any meaningful way except to give the characters “cheap trauma moments” that could potentially get ruined by either the insertion of out of place comedy or never mentioned again. 

How am I supposed to treat Crimson’s abuse of Moxxie as something serious when the minute before dildos popped out the walls for a joke? How did Blitz’s guilt over the fire and his mother’s death truly affect his relationships—romantic or otherwise? Was it all just a narrative plot to drag the Stolitz charade for as many episodes as possible? Heck, we do not even see Blitz and Mooixe interact more about their shared trauma! Or about how much they missed their mothers.

It is a little depressing because, despite knowing nothing about Moxxie and Blitz's mothers, we, the viewer, are expected to care about them and see their significance. Instead we are left with a million questions that will probably never have an answer. 

Were they really good parents or are their sons only remembering the good parts of their relationship because they are dead? 

How did they truly influence their kids? Did Moxxie’s love for musical theater come from his mother? Did Blitz’s fascination for horses be because of Tilla or was it someone else?

How was their relationship with their husbands and why did they stay even after the marriage went south? What brought them together in the first place? Because, in all honesty, both couples just don't seem compatible in any way, that one just can help but ask how did everything worked.

Sadly, we can only speculate. 

So, without further due, these are my speculations. Part of the great rewrite that I am doing of the series. Because sometimes terrible writing decisions just move my creative juices in the right direction. 

Tilla and Cash Buckzo.  “I do love you, as much as I am capable of loving anyone, which is never enough.”

What would have happened if Princess Carolyn and Bojack Horseman ignored all the red flags in their relationship and chose to get married anyway? That wouldn’t have been good, but that is exactly what happened to Tilla and Cash Buckzo—the result was a messy marriage where love could not overcome their different views on life and incompatible personalities.

So... why did they stay in a marriage that was not working? Simple, a divorce would mean financial ruin for both of them.

Let me explain. 

(Worldbuilding note: How marriage functions and how people in Hell generally view it is one aspect of the Hellaverse that truly baffles me. To avoid confusion, each ring in this revision will have its own set of marital norms and perspectives.)

(In the Greed Ring, marriage is nothing more than another business transaction and is treated as such. Two individuals may absolutely hate each other, but if the marriage will benefit them economically, then they will go through with it.)

The sole compelling argument for Cash and Tilla's marriage was that it was the wisest course of action to maintain and save their respective livelihoods. Imps are not permitted to own companies (as I stated in the Stolitz Non-Romance rewrite.) and in the Greed Ring, Mammon owns ALL of the entertainment industry (circuses included) and he will not hesitate to shut down a circus if it is not bringing the profit.

The small circuses Cash and Tilla were supervising were on the brink of bankrupsy, so what better solution than to marry each other and combine their assets? It will give them more time to survive.

In hindsight, their plan worked perfectly; Tilla and Cash were able to build up themselves financially, and using their combined business talents, they were able to expand their new big renovated circus and turn in a profit that would keep Mammon off their backs. 

They were great business partners, but as a couple, they lacked a lot. 

They did occasionally have tender moments, but they were squandered by arguments, lengthy silences, and extremely uncomfortable dinners. At one point, they even began sleeping in different beds, just to avoid fighting. Everybody who knew them could see that they were just not good for each other and could barely tolerate the other presence.

This begs the question: How did they manage to have Blitz and Barbie?

The decision to have a kid was straightforward and, like their marriage, based on business. They wanted a successor to take over their responsibilities when they died, as it was something now needed as the circus grew. So one night, they decided to get drunk and just get it over with.

But, to the surprise of themselves and everyone else, Tilla and Cash were their best selves throughout the pregnancy. 

During those four months that the pregnancy lasted, Cash and Tilla acted like a happy couple, anxiously waiting for the arrival of their beloved baby. They no longer fought; they were just too busy happily imagining a future where the three of them would be happy while preparing for their child.

Maybe everything would be okay; their relationship could only get better from now on, right? Once their beautiful little girl arrives, they will be a complete family of three with no intentions of adding more. 

Yikes.

In their defence, there are few medical facilities available to imps, and when they attended the controls, the physicians informed them that they would only be having one child, Barbie.

Their budget and plans were severely ruined by Blitz's unexpected arrival because they were only ready to provide full care for one baby, not two. If Mammon kept the majority of the profits, how would they be able to buy two of everything? 

They would endure a long period of hardship and didn’t they enter this marriage to prevent just that?!

Tilla, being the mother and the one who gave birth, accepted this change, promising to love both children equally; sadly, Cash didn’t.

It didn’t take too long before they started fighting again, even if it was in front of their kids. As you can imagine, growing up with parents who fought even for the most minimal of problems leaves a long-lasting impression on a child and how they will handle their own relationships in the future. 

To this day, Barbie still has problems telling her girlfriends when something is wrong or is upsetting her. On the other hand, Blitz gets overwhelmed when he notices things going south in a relationship and leaves it all together. 

Things didn’t really improve much as the twins grew up. 

Sure, the family had their relative moments of peace, but Cash only paid real love and attention to Barbie, being the child he really wanted while completely ignoring Blitz. Tilla, upset about this but knowing that Cash won’t change, tried to give more attention to her son, accidentally ignoring her daughter’s needs.

Yes, Tilla was not a “perfect, angelic mother," canon portrayed her as. If anything, she was a little bit overbearing when it came to Blitz, as she felt she needed to make up for his father’s abandonment. She genuinely believed that Barbie didn’t need her as much, and the girl liked to spend more time with her father anyway, who needed to train her to take over the circus.

At this point, their family was divided into two separate families that just happened to live in the same house: one consisted of a kind but overprotective mother and her son; the other, a strict but understanding father and his daughter/heir. The only point in which Tilla and Cash interacted was when they worked on the circus, or when they were fighting for the most minimal things. 

Their family dynamic was mostly like that... until Tilla died.

Blitz remembers only the good moments he spent with her, looking at her actions and life with rose-colored glasses of love. For him, Tilla was the perfect mother who basically could do no wrong. 

However, if you ask Barbie, she’ll say that while she is sad that her mother passed away, she is unable to truly feel devastated since she never knew the woman well enough. Barbie is even a bit resentful for the times Tilla chose to spend time with Blitz instead of her.

And with Cash... How would you think Bojack would react if PC died before him? 

Now… what about Moxxie’s family?

Crimson and Belia (Name I am giving Moxxie’s mom)

"You better grow up to be something great, to make up for all the damage you done."

One particular thing that I noticed about Crimson is how young he looks despite being Moxxie’s dad. If I knew nothing about Helluva Boss and someone showed me a picture of those two, I would 100% believe they are siblings, not father and son.

While we can attribute this to Vivzie's inability to draw older men, why not play with this?

Let's set up the stage.

When Moxxie entered the picture, Crimson and Belia were just seventeen years old and not even dating. However, I suppose that when you are a careless teenager, the consequences of forgetting the condom don't truly hit you until something goes wrong.

As one may expect, Crimson was not happy with the news and was even more angry when Belia told him that she wanted to keep the baby and sustained her ground no matter how many times Crimson told her to get rid of the pregnancy. Why not? They were both fucking teenagers, just fooling around and he had no intentions of becoming a father, at least not this young! What was truly stopping her?

Nobody truly knows why Belia chose to keep her son to this day. 

When alive, she would tell you without a doubt that she loved her child from the first moment and couldn't bear to let him go, even in the face of less than perfect circumstances. But Moxxie hasn't believed that version of the story in a very long time. 

Moxxie now thinks that the main reason why Belia had him was because she didn't want to endure the awful and harsh conditions of an Imp Health Center. Due to the horrible way the doctors treated the imp patients, lack of medicine and equipment, most imps avoided those places like the plage.

Unfortunately, sick imps had no other choice but to go to the centers for treatment. Because if an imp even dares to step a hoof on the more well equipped hospitals in Sloth or Lust, they would be immediately kicked out no matter the emergency.

For more serious issues, wealthy imps (like Crimson's family) would hire a private physician. However, Belia was aware that Crimson would never spend that kind of money on her. 

Or maybe Belia didn’t want to give Crimson the satisfaction of getting out of his responsibilities. 

When Crimson's own father learned about the, at that point, already advanced pregancy, he forced Crimson and Belia to get married. Given the Knowlastname family's significant power in Greed's imp neighborhoods, Crimson's status as an unmarried young father would be viewed as a shameful scandal.

Belia only consented to the marriage because she had nowhere else to go. When her parents found out that their seventeen-year-old daughter was expecting, they were so disappointed that they disinherited and prohibited her from ever returning home.

(Later, when I rewrite Exes and Oh's, I will go into more detail about what Crimson’s family does in the Greed Ring. They are still involved in “less than legal” practices and loan sharking, but is a little bit different than in canon since now I based the Greed Ring in the entertainment industry.)

Of course, as one may expect, things in that marriage went south real fast. 

Every time Crimson looked at Moxxie and Belia, he saw nothing but the two demons who took away his carefree teenhood together with the respect of his father, and with each passing year, he just became more and more cruel. At one point, he simply started physically abusing his wife, who always put herself as a buffer between Moxxie and Crimson.

If Belia dared to raise her voice against her husband, Crimson would merely tell her that the opportunity to leave him went away the minute she decided to bring “that brat” into hell without his permission. Now she was just reaping what she sowed.

Being physically and mentally abused by her husband (who, as a bonus, also turned everyone in the household against her) took a toll on Belia’s mental health. She still wanted to be the best mother she could be, but how can you raise a child in an environment where everybody sees them as the enemy? When your mind makes your body so heavy that getting out of bed becomes an impossible task?

More than once, Belia considered taking her son and moving back to Wrath. But then, to where? Her parents didn’t want to see her; she lost contact with her friends, and since she never finished school, she had no hireable qualities. How would she support herself and Mooxie if she decides to leave? Being a single imp mother in hell is not easy!

It was impossible! At this point, she just needed to endure. 

She will not let Crimson win; she will not let that man break her and Moxxie. While Crimson was definitely stronger than her, putting on a smile after a beating that sent Crimson into a frustrated frenzy was all she needed to feel she had won, even if her body stated otherwise.

There were also the times she and Moxxie went on hikes together, pretending that they were going on a grand adventure as far away from Crimson as possible. Being happy when Crimson didn’t want them to was the little act of rebellion she needed to stay sane.

However, Belia’s breaking point came after Moxxie’s seventh birthday, just a few months after Crimson’s father died, when her “beloved” husband brought home another pregnant imp. 

Belia was no idiot; she knew that her husband had been cheating on her for years, but she never said anything because she didn’t care enough to do it. So, Crimson had a side piece? big deal, she stopped loving him a long time ago. 

However, it was too much to bear to watch Crimson, a guy she believed to be utterly cruel, be a loving and caring partner to this imp and be so thrilled about the birth of their cherished child.

I mean, when you witness the same man who repeatedly denigrated your son, cursed and beat you for being pregnant, joyfully decorating a nursery while choosing baby names and spoiling his new partner, whom he never raised his voice at, it can and will break something in you. 

Ultimately, what could be worse? Accepting that your partner will never change? Or realizing that you were never worth the positive change they could bring about?

What did she do wrong?

Moxxie still doesn’t know what happened to his mom; what is certain is that one day he woke up and she was not there. While part of him is sure that Crimson killed her so he could marry his new partner, there is a part of him, small but loud, that tells him that Belia abandoned him at the mercy of his father. 

Why would she not? Moxxie knows that he looks a lot like Crimson, so it was possible that at some point, his poor mother couldn’t look at him anymore without remembering her abuser. He is also familiar with the sad reality that, if Belia tried escaping with him, the possibilities of re-doing her life with a kid on her toe would have been very slim.

Not to mention impossible.

After his mother disappeared, Moxxie became a ghost in his own house. Apart from giving orders and degrading him, Crimson was more focused on his new family and new children to “waste energy” in a son he never wanted. While Moxxie’s step-parent was not physically violent, their constant degrading of Belia and their attempts to erase all trace of her existence really put Moxxie on edge.

Sadly, he couldn’t say anything because the first and only time Mooxie tried to go against their wishes, Crimson put a stop to that real fast. 

Moxxie had to see firsthand how Crimson was a true, loving father to his stepsiblings. He listened to them constantly, never yelled at them, and never struck them—things he never did with his first kid. He also made sure to teach them how their big brother was nothing but a failure and to stay clear of him since “wimpyness” could be contagious.

Moxxie wishes he could know them better.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o00

And this is all for today. I will give more information about Mooxie’s family (as well as his relationship with Chaz) when I rewrite Exes and Oh’s. Remember that these are mostly my first draft thoughts and can and probably will be changed for the final product. 

I hope you enjoy! I love when you comment!

[thechivalrousskygallop]

~ /OOC/!! ~

Hiii!!! It's your Chronically online mun! Tina! And this will be the Sky gallop RP blog!!

My main account and oc rp blog is @heavyiron ! I know I have 2 RP blogs, the rock crush and my oc rp blog and it's probably annoying that I have 3 rp blogs now, huhuu, I just love sky gallop sm.. 😭

Your asks may be delayed but no worries! An answer from sky gallop is guaranteed! (Unless it's Innapropriate. Mun will Answer it, instead of sky gallop)

Pony horse.

Anyway.!!

•❅──────✧❅❅✧──────❅•

"My name is Sky Gallop, the pure white wings that fly amongst the heavens."

- Sky gallop, episode 15, Season 2.

//RP BOUNDARIES//

Strictly no NSFW or Innapropriate asks that might harm the others! Because Some of the Rp bloggers here are Minors! And that includes me!

No shipping as well! We very well respect, understand and support your ships! But please do not ship us as it will feel like we are shipping each other! And also please do not ship me with miss peruru <33

Remember! I am an actual human being! I might not be 100% accurate to the real sky gallop! And responses might be delayed! Because of vacation, school, and ect!

Please do not be rude! And remember to respect each other! Okay?.

The mun's progress in the series follows the English sub(currently ep 19 season 2 of mcb) when I need help answering a question, I seek help from moonie (aka flamenova's mun) as she already watched s1 and 2 of Mcb.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ♡ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

Mun notes.

Please refer sky gallop as a they/them or a she/her! (Cuz, y not.?)

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ♥︎ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

Here are the other rp blogs, and oc's in addition to this post.

Blue cop ~ @blue-policerobot

Mega trucker ~ @thelatinodancerbot

Mega ambler ~ @unlicensedmedicalcardbot

Phoenix fire ~ @safety-fir3-y43h

Shadow X ~ @shadowx-ishere1

Dexter ~ @k1ttykatwhisperer

Fleta z ~ @gracefulbountyhunter

Jun's parent's Fast food restaurant customer service ~ @themilkywayofficial

Busty gaylon ~ @buster-gallon

Black hook ~ @capta1nstreasure

Heavy iron ~ @heavyironsbasement

The season 2 cardbots

Rock crush ~ @thedrillingmole

Red blitz ~ @the-crimson-flash

Cielo - @sky-champion

Musclehyde - @the-steelarm-reporter

Deepbite ~ @thefriendlyshark

Sky gallop ~ @thechivalrousskygallop (You are here.)

Blast train ~ @b1asttrain

Flash vector ~ @plebec-invisk8r

Flame nova ~ @flamen0va

Metal cardbots outside of the Canon team

ShellShocked ~ @shell-shock-ed

Cosmic void - @cosmic-void-themagician

Record scratch ~ @record-scratches

Vagabund ~ @vagabund-rp

Yellow jacket ~ @askyellowjacket

Lavander aegis ~ @da-lavender-sniper

The additional human characters

Tina ~ @heavyiron

Phalia ~ @peppermintpez

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Thank thou for looking at my page.. Pure white wings, sky gallop, out. "

[eroticismzz]

BLITZED — dealer!onyankopon

001. c/w: smut (mdni), f!reader, smoking, intoxication, petnames, cunnilingus, blowjob, cursing, penetration, slight overstim, mutual pinning, modern!au

002. w/c: 2.7k

After successfully finishing your shift at work, you glance over to the clock on the wall that sharply read ‘7:30’ in the afternoon. The other staff you work alongside aka the younger trainees in your hair salon that you hired were already out the door, you felt generous enough to let them off early due to it being a Friday.

Walking over to the spare mirror, you place your equipment down, taking time to fix your own wig. You wanted to look presentable to your dealer Onyankopon afterall, he’d compliment your wigs every time you’d buy from him. It brought a different type of a blush on your face no man has brought before, whenever he says “You look good ma, new color?”. Just thinking of it brought flutters to your stomach, fixing the rest of your appearance to what you’d been wearing today.

You smiled as you sufficiently finished you hair, humming as you picked up your work-tote bag before glancing at the clock again, only fifteen minutes had passed so you decided it’d be best not to keep Ony waiting any longer. He wasn’t a man of patience afterall.

You gathered your keys in your palm, walking over to your car while unlocking it, moving to gather up the money you owed for the eighth, getting ready to drive by your usual spot with him by one of the more deserted alley ways near your crib.

It wasn’t a far drive, making your way to the front of the ally way to park. You could feel your fingers tingling with excitement as you shut your car off, shutting the door behind you as you made way to the silhouette in the dimly lit space.

“You 20 mins late ma.” His husky voice echoed in the tight pathway with a sight of him smoking a blunt, low eyes staring you down that made you feel small. “My fault, had to fix my lace a bit Ony..” He paused as he took a hit, blowing the smoke away from your face before reaching in his pocket. You reached to hand him the money but he’d stop you before you got the chance.

“Nah, you get this one for free..” This caused you to pause, looking at him with almost a shell shocked gaze. “But you never do that, what's up with you lately?.”. He gave a low chuckle in response, the sound causing your ears to get hot as you squeezed on the handle of your bag just a little tighter. “Cause you look a little too good today.. Jus’ take it.” He held it out to you, hesitantly taking it to pocket it as you felt your thighs squeeze at his answer. He shouldn’t be making you react so.. stimulated. Ony must’ve noticed as well, reaching to hand you his blunt.

You took it, taking a long inhale as he watched you intently, licking his lips. You felt the red eyes peering down at you, only making you feel more giddy as you exhaled shortly after, the weed in your system making your mouth tingle as you took another puff, handing it back over. Your fingers slightly brushed as he took it back, not hesitating to take a puff of his own.

The air had a tension to it, yet you exhaled to speak. “You wanna do this in my car? You look goofy in this alleyway Ony..”. He let out a low chuckle at your words, placing his free-hand in his pocket while looking at you. “I’m down if you’re down.” Was all he said. Allowing you to lead him inside your car as he took another hit once the door closed. You felt nervous, butterflies in your stomach as you could smell the mixture of cannabis and cologne lingering off Ony that caused you to shuffle a bit in your seat, thighs clenching. “Here.” He handed the blunt to you, taking it as you took another puff. Feeling his hungry eyes gazing at you from the side, making you tremble, making you sweat.

“Whatchu’ nervous for ma?” he smiled, knowing the effect he had on you. That motherfucker. He almost folded when he saw your eyes starting to lower, glossed over eyes countering his gaze as you handed it back. “Cause you keep starin’ dickneck.” He laughed at this, licking his lips before finishing the rest of the blunt while you reached to crack the window ever so slightly.

Ony tipped his head back, adam's apple in full view of the streetlight that kissed his skin so beautifully. You took this time to stare at him, studded earrings complimenting the hat he wore. He was handsome, his tatted arms showing out in his white tee. It made your mouth dry, reaching in your pocket to reapply your lip gloss, oblivious to Ony side eyeing you like a starved man.

“Jus’ got off your shift? Got that eager to see me, huh?”, “Not too much, I just wanted my shit before I spent my money.”, “Rightt.. Jus' say you’re excited to see me.” He sounded almost cocky, leaning over the console to get a better look at your face. Your breath hitched, a glance at his lips before you looked into his eyes. A hand creeping to your thigh as you both felt the weed get further in your system. “Can I kiss you?” He murmured as if he was holding himself back. You could only let out a nod before he smashes his lips against yours, a small moan as your lipgloss smeared against his two-toned lips. You felt yourself crawling across to straddle yourself on his lap, firm hands on your sides as you both deepened the kiss, tongue running on your bottom lip.

Once you pulled away you looked at him licking his lips, checking you out before looking back into your eyes with a hazy smile. It made you feel small, moving a sleeve as an attempt to cover your face yet Ony wasn’t having it, gently gripping your wrist. “Nah, lemme see that pretty face.. been thinking about you too much ma” He smiled, moving to leave gentle kisses along your jawline, down to your collarbone causing a small jump, “Ony-”. Your scent felt intoxicating to him, making him only want to continue to stir you on.

Your nails snaked up his white tee, feeling his abs tense at the cold feeling of your hands against him while he gave pecks on your neck. “Ony please.. more.” was all you had to utter, Ony moving quickly to place you on the backseat, following afterwards. “What can I do to make you feel good?” He stared at you, “I wanna make you feel good.” His words make you melt, gripping his shoulders as you stare at him. “Surprise me..”. The words were enough to have him gently pushing you back, kneeling on the floor of your car as he was slotted between your legs. “Can I make you feel good ma?” You nodded, helping him pull down your sweatpants. Ony swore he fell in love with your scent as he smelt you closer, moving a teasing finger to the small damp spot on your panties. You let out a small whimper, peering down at the man in awe as he kept teasing you while you rested your legs on his shoulders.

The weed calmed your nerves, normally you’d be nervous to the point you couldn’t even stare but you watched as he pulled your panties slowly, direct eye contact as he kept a smile with his pearly whites that only stirred you on more. “Lemme prep you, want my fingers or mouth?” He waited for a response, hot breath right where you wanted him most, “Mouth- please Ony i’m tired of the teasing..” You mustered out as he gave a low laugh before reaching to pepper your inner thighs with kisses.

You couldn’t help but make out small whimpers in response, biting the inner part of your cheek out of excitement due to you wanting him for so long. “Ony plea-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence, the man diving between your legs and laying his tongue flat to lick a swipe directly on your pussy. Letting out a moan even you were embarrassed by, the man would laugh, sending vibrations right by your clit.

He took a moment to breathe, laughing a bit at your body’s reaction to him. “That eager for me ma? Shitt… that turns me on.” He was so filthy with his words, causing your face to heat up more than you even thought was possible at this moment. However Ony wouldn’t waste any time going back down on you, tonguing your pussy as a thumb reached up to circle your clit slowly to make you moan just how he liked it, your sounds going straight to the tent in his pants. “Fuckfuckfuck-“ Was all you could utter as he tongue fucked you, building up to the familiar pressure you’d feel in your lower stomach everytime you got horny thinking of him. 

You huffed for air from how good he ate you, tapping his arm that was wrapped around your thighs as a warning you were about to cum. “Jus’ like that baby, cum on my tongue.” He encouraged, coil in your belly snapping as you came on his face to earn a satisfied groan while he helped you through your orgasm. Falling from that high, Ony sat up and you’d be met with the lower half of his face lathered in your juices with his eyes looking darker, and not just from the weed.

“Fuck.. that was hot.” He almost laughed as he looked at your expression, tears welling in your eyes from how he made you feel. “You’re dangerous.. can’t get you outta’ my head.” Now grabbing a hand so you could feel how hard he was in his gray sweats. You almost gasped at how big he felt, your expression making him smile as he licked his lips. “You can take it out, see what you do to me?” He teased as he watched you rub on his print, earning a low groan from him.

You made eye contact with him while taking his cock out, practically twitching as it felt the cold air against it. You couldn’t help but stare at his pretty cock, a slight curve to the right with not much length but for sure enough girth to it. A pretty vein laying on the underside of his dick. Not being able to stop yourself, you let a line of drool drop onto his tip, using it to properly stroke him off. “Fuck ma- jus’ like that, stroke this dick..”. His head tipping back as you slowly moved your hand.

His breathing became more uneven, a tense grab of your wrist to stop you as he took a moment. “Didn’t wanna cum just from your jerking my dick.. got a condom? I wanna be inside you so bad..” He sounded desperate as he watched you sit up, reaching in the pocket behind the driver's seat to achieve a condom.

He watched you as you unraveled it down his shaft, now moving to lift you as he swapped your positioning. He’d be seated in the middle seat of the row while you straddled him, clit a few centimeters away from his dick. It made you eager, desperate to get some friction you tried to grind against him. “Hollon’ baby, lemme make you ready right quick..”. A hand moving to your clit to have you let out your little whimpers.

After he found that’d been enough, he gripped your hips as you attempted to lower yourself into his cock, a small whimper of pain as he reassured you. “Doin’ so good fa’ me ma, it’ll fit, just go slow.” Is all he kept repeating as you finally sat on his dick. You couldn’t help but feel a pain, Ony lifting your head with a finger on your chin to kiss you.

The kiss was less eager this time, using this as a way to calm your nerves to help subside the pain.”You ready?” You could only nod but Ony wasn’t fucking with that. “Words ma, ion wanna make you feel forced..” The simple statement made your chest flutter, allowing you to provide a “Yes..” as he lifted you off. You could feel yourself seeing stars once he slammed you back onto his cock, an almost pornographic moan escaping your lips as he gave you slow but hard strokes in the backseat of your own car.

“Fuck! Ony-“ You placed a hand on his lower abdomen as he kept giving you long strokes, the other attempting to cover your mouth in fear someone might walk past and hear. But Ony didn’t like that, his hand moving yours away, his movements a little messier. “Fuck.. nah lemme hear you baby, I- fuckin’ like hearing how you like this dick.” Tension in his words as he kept thrusting, your pussy practically sucking him in each time he went back.

You both couldn’t contain the noises that’d erupt from your mouths, Ony speeding up and rubbing your clit once you started getting too quiet. “Ngh..Fuck!” Was all you could utter out till he felt you squeezing him. “Nah nah- fuck that-“ He stopped as he was huffing for air, a whine escaping your lips. “Why’d you stopp-“, “Gotta fuck you at a better angle ma.” Wasting no time to lay you on your back as he put your right leg on his shoulder, the stretch making your leg hurt ever so slightly.

Before you could complain he started pounding into you again, this new position being more overwhelming due to it allowing him to hit your g-spot in each motion. “Ony-OnyOny-“ Was the only thing you could chant, making him go faster with a crushing grip on your hips. It wasn’t until he felt you clench around him again that he felt close to cumming, a small chuckle, “Gonna milk my dick, right ma?”. Looking at your fucked out expression as you nodded eagerly. “Go on, cum on this dick. Show me how good I make you feel.” Ony grinned as he sped up, feeling as you came on him and watching as your back arches and your face scrunched as a result. He kept thrusting as you went through your high, yet didn’t stop once you started to feel overstimulated.

“Onyyyy-“ You whined as he still went, the feeling making you twitch. “You treat me so good ma, this pussy.. so- good.” He sped up even more upon feeling his own orgasm rising, huffing for air each thrust. It continued until you dug your nails into his arm, a groan as he came into the condom, still able to feel his warm seed as he pulled out.

He started taking off his condom, showing off his cum-covered tip that you couldn’t help but move closer to grip his cock again. He was still overstimulated, so when you started to give kittenish licks to his tip he almost lost it, a loud whimper erupting from his chest as he gripped your hair. “Baby- fuck.. i’m sensitive still- wait-“. Yet you kept going, taking the tip in your mouth as you reached down to massage his balls, the feeling almost making him pass out.

“F-fuck- keep going- please-..” He murmured as he gripped your hair tighter, one more teasing lick away from going crazy. Once you did try to keep teasing him, he pushed you down further till your nose met with the pattern of hair he had on his crotch. Earning a gag from you, he let out a moan, practically humping your face like a dog on heat.

He kept at this till he felt himself getting closer, struggling to ask,”F-fuck where do you want it?” he managed to utter as he took you off momentarily. “Mouth-“ His eyes rolled back at the response and the sight of drool dropping off your chin, quickly thrusting back in your mouth as he let out groans. He slammed it to the back of your throat once he came, his seed flooding your mouth with a bitter taste.

Opening your mouth, you showed proof of swallowing his cum, his lidded eyes looking at your face.

“So.. wanna go out wimme?”

[the-crimson-flash]

Kent: Hello? Am I on the right Account? My mom let me borrow her phone and I found this…

"Eh?"

After reading who it was he let out a happy noise

"OH HOOO~! Tiny human! Kent! Havent seen you in a while! How you been? They treating you right over there in motown?"

Delighted to hear from his tiny friend again, tho if he finds out anyones been messing with his friend he will give them a piece of his mind!

[mesetacadre]

Sorry if this is a bit weird question but would artistic freedom be restricted in a socialist state? If it would be, how? Wouldn't restrictions/censorships be a bad thing since it's important for people to be able to learn critical thinking skills and criticize in a constructive way a government or other aspects of society or for them to just depict with reality and imagination in a way that leads to diverse conversations?

The degree of restriction always depends on the context of the state, it's not a set answer. Like most other questions regarding the running of a state by communists, it will change depending on necessities and as it evolves. But regardless, art will always be free of the pressures imposed by salary work, and across the history of socialism, there is a good precedent for ample subsidies of the arts, even those not directly related to socialism itself.

Look at this passage about the GDR, for instance. Take into account the historical context, of a country that has just been divided and liberated from the Nazi Party, with the mass support they garnered. The FRG wasn't exactly unwelcoming to former nazis, even important members of the party, and the GDR was the frontline for the cold war, during its entire existence it faced infiltration, sabotage, and a myriad of attacks against it. [Because of indented quotes being awkward for longer texts, I'm not going to format it differently. The quote will end with the link to the book it's from]

During the forty years of its existence, a unique GDR culture developed in the country and it differed substantially from that in the West. It was characterised by a very fruitful, even if at time bruising and sometimes painful, battle between artistic freedom and creativity on the one hand and the demands the Party and state attempted to impose.

Since the early days of the Soviet Union, the Bolsheviks and later communist parties everywhere placed a great emphasis on culture and on the contribution cultural workers could make to the building of socialism. One of the first things the Soviet Army of occupation did at the end of the war, was attempt to resuscitate cultural activity in a war-ravaged and demoralised Germany. The one thing the Russians could never get their head around was how a country with such a high level of culture, a nation that had produced a Bach and a Beethoven, a Goethe and a Schiller could have carried out such barbaric crimes in other countries. The Soviet army had cultural officers attached to each battalion and the war had hardly ended before they began seeking out cultural workers and encouraging them to take up their batons, musical instruments, pens and paintbrushes again. Temporary cinemas were established, orchestras formed, theatres opened and publishing houses set up.

In contrast to West Germany, in the Soviet Zone and later in the GDR, there was also an early emphasis on making films about the Nazi period as a means of educating and informing a nation ignorant of or in denial about what had happened.

The first anti-Nazi and anti-war film to be made in the whole of Germany was Die Morder sind unter uns (Murderers among us - 1946) directed by the West Berlin-based Wolfgang Staudte with full Soviet support. Among later anti-Nazi films made in the GDR were: Rat der Gotter (Council of the Gods - 1950) about the production of poison gas by IG Farben for the concentration camps, Nackt unter Wolfen (Naked amongst Wolves - 1963), based on a true story about a small Jewish boy who was hidden in a concentration camp and thus saved. Werner Holt (1965) - about the life of young men in Hitler’s army, Gefrorene Blitze (Frozen Flashes -1967) about the development of the V2 rocket by the Nazis; Ich war Neunzehn (I was Nineteen - 1968) - the true story of a young German who returns to Germany in the uniform of a Red Army soldier with the victorious Russian troops. Almost two decades passed before West Germany attempted to confront the war and its Nazi past. And the film Das Boot (1981) is more about the heroics of German U-boat crews than about understanding Nazi ideology. Das schreckliche Maedchen (Nasty Girl -1990) was a rare exception, as was Downfall (2004), a film about Hitler.

The GDR had more theatres per capita than any other country in the world and in no other country were there more orchestras in relation to population size or territory. With 90 professional orchestras, GDR citizens had three times more opportunity of accessing live music, than those in the FRG, 7.5 times more than in the USA and 30 times more than in the UK. It also had one of the world’s highest book publishing figures. This small country with its very limited economic resources, even in the fifties was spending double the amount on cultural activities as the FRG.

Every town of 30,000 or more inhabitants in the GDR had its theatre and cinema as well as other cultural venues. It had roughly half as many theatres as the Federal Republic, despite having less than a third of the population (178 compared with 346 in the FRG). Subsidised tickets to the theatre and concerts were always priced so that everyone could afford to go. Many factories and institutions had regular block-bookings for their workers which were avidly taken up. School pupils from the age of 14 were also encouraged to go to the theatre once a month and schools were able to obtain subsidised tickets. All the theatres had permanent ensembles of actors who received a regular salary. Plays and operas were performed on a repertory basis, providing everyone in the ensemble with a variety of roles.

All towns and even many villages had their own ‘Houses of Culture’, owned by the local communities and open for all to use. These were places that offered performance venues, workshop space and facilities for celebratory gatherings, discos, drama groups etc. There was a lively culture of local music and folk-song groups, as well as classical musical performance.

Very different to the situation in West Germany, was the widespread establishment in the GDR of workers’ cultural groups - from literary circles, artists groups to ceramic and photography workshops. These were actively encouraged and financially supported by the state, local authorities or the workplace. Discussions of books and literature, often together with authors, were a regular occurrence, even in the remotest of villages.

The ‘Kulturbund’ (Cultural Association) was a national organisation of over one million members that organised a wide range of cultural events around the country, from concerts, lectures on a wide variety of subjects, to art appreciation classes.

To begin with it was set up in set up in 1945 as a movement to bring together interested intellectuals and artists, on the basis of an anti-fascist and humanist outlook, with the aim of promoting a ‘national re-birth’ and ‘of regaining the trust and respect of the world’. From 1949 onwards many smaller cultural groups joined the national Cultural Association. Soon, ‘commissions’ and ‘working groups’ for specific areas were established: educational, musical, architectural and craft groups, followed by photographic, press, philatelic, fine arts groups and others. The Association also had its own monthly journal and weekly newspaper.

The art form ‘Socialist Realism’ has always been decried and ridiculed in the West, caricatured in the constantly circulated images of monumental statues of muscle-bound male workers and buxom, peasant women in heroic poses. However, such a view ignores those many realist artists who were not necessarily ‘court-appointed’ or monumentalists but who chose a realist mode of expression freely.

We now know that the CIA was, at the height of the Cold War, instrumental in promoting abstract art in the West as a counterweight to ‘communist’ realism. The CIA was able to capitalise on the fact that abstract art was frowned upon by party leaderships throughout the communist-led world where realist art was seen as better able to represent socialist values. This led to an often artificial polarisation between realist and abstract art, the former characterised in the West as old fashioned and conservative, the latter as progressive and representing individual freedom. Not surprisingly, it meant a marginalisation of realist art in the West and a dominance of the abstract. The fact that much of the so-called ‘socialist realist’ art to which those in the West had access was state-commissioned and often second rate should not lead us to ignore the fact that there were excellent realist artists working in the Eastern bloc.

Many artists in the communist countries simply preferred to place human beings and social reality at the centre of their art, as did most muralists and many painters in the West. It should not condescendingly be dismissed out of hand. Many continued the strong realist tradition, taking it forward into new realms. It also connected with ordinary people who saw themselves, their lives and their questions and criticisms taken up by artists. While some conformed and became state-sponsored artists, churning out often mediocre art, many others ploughed their own furrow and their work aroused avid interest among the people. This could be seen not only in painting and sculpture but graphics, the theatre, music, literature and, though less so, also in the cinema.

A number of artists did reject the unnecessary ideological fetters as well as banal socialist realist platitudes, and in exhibitions of their work often shocked the party functionaries. Such artists often promoted a progressive and expressively advanced form of critical realism and an aesthetics of their own making. The national contemporary art exhibitions, which took place every five years in Dresden, drew huge numbers of visitors from all over the country and provoked heated discussions. The country could also boast a number of artists, writers and scientists of international renown: the physicist, Manfred von Ardenne, the social scientist, Jurgen Kuczynski; visual artists like Fritz Kuhn, John Heartfield, Willi Sitte, Werner Tiibke and Wolfgang Mattheuer; writers like Christa Wolf, Stefan Hermlin, Stefan Heym,

Christoph Hein, Erik Neutsch and Erwin Strittmatter were all much admired beyond the GDR’s borders.

In the theatre, Bertolt Brecht was, of course, the most famous. His influence on theatre practice was extensive in the GDR but also worldwide. The country, certainly in the early years, could also count on the expertise of actors and directors from the pre-Nazi period: Wolfgang Langhof, Wolf Kaiser, Wolfgang Heinz, Fritz Bennewitz and the brilliant Austrian opera director, Walther Felsenstein - people would come from all over the world to see his exciting productions at the Komische Oper in East Berlin. Among those who matured post-war, Heiner Muller was widely recognised as one of Germany’s most innovative and radical playwrights. There were rock and pop bands like Silly and the Puhdys and jazz groups who were certainly not ‘mouthpieces’ of state-sanctioned culture. There was also a whole range of individual classical musicians of world class, like the conductor Kurt Masur, tenor Peter Schreier and baritone Olaf Bar, the chanteuse Gisela May as well as outstanding orchestras.

The GDR provided facilities and funding for artistic and creative theory and practice. There were lay art circles in most communities and these received state support to carry out their work. Many writers, musicians and visual artists enjoyed a quite privileged existence if they belonged to the officially recognised artists’ or writers’ associations. They would be offered regular well-paid commissions by state and local authorities which provided them, as creative artists, with an income to live on.

A number of leading writers were seen in many ways as ‘people’s tribunes’, articulating grievances, criticisms and ideas that people felt had no proper airing in the public sphere. People engaged actively with these writers and vice versa. Public readings by, and discussions with, authors were a regular feature of GDR life.

Another myth constantly perpetuated is that because the GDR restricted the import of and access to literature from the West, its citizens were entirely cut off from it. A range of works from many contemporary writers from the West were published in the GDR; in fact more British authors were published there than authors from both Germanies combined were published in Britain. GDR readers could find books by British writers like Graham Greene and Alan Sillitoe to US writers like Saul Bellow, Norman Mailer and Ernest Hemingway. By 1981, the GDR was publishing 6,000 books a year, almost 17 per cent of which were translations from around 40 foreign languages. There was a wide selection of international literature available and a number of foreign films were shown in cinemas. David Childs, in his book on East Germany, exposes the myth that the GDR populace was totally ignorant and ill-informed about life in the West; most of them, after all were also able to tune in daily to West German radio and television.

Stasi State or Socialist Paradise?: The German Democratic Republic and What Became of It, by John Green and Bruni De La Motte (2015)

The GDR's relationship to art censorship wasn't as black and white as allowing and disallowing. Certain types of art were discouraged, but they also let regular exhibitions happen which contained "shocking" art, shocking for the party members. They were justifiably weary of any art coming from the west because they knew the CIA used it as a weapon, but "more British authors were published there than authors from both Germanies combined were published in Britain". The social conditioners of art also show themselves in socialist states. Just like liberal art in capitalist countries doesn't really need to be actively encouraged to exist, some artists in the GDR "simply preferred to place human beings and social reality at the centre of their art". It's a complex question which, like I said, almost entirely depends on the historical moment.

[helluvabossrewrite45]

You Reap What You Sow - The Final Helluva Boss Rewrite

Tw: Mention of SA/R4pe

His neck itched at the golden chain wrapped around his neck. He can smell the ingested air suffocating his closed breath, wincing quietly for Satan not to hear his highly pitched voice that emulates a scared little boy. His body shivered in intense heat around him.

He can tell he was frozen by the glares from the royals deadpanned faces, as though he was a bug that trespassed their homes; waiting to be stepped on without an ounce of care or sorrow. Satan exhaled a deep fiery breath to Stolas’ tiny shrivelled face, causing him to cough the smelt of crisp flames from out of his beak. Satan’s hands snatched Stolas’ face to meet his. “You know what your punishment is, don’t you?” Satan inquired in a firm tone. 

“U-uh…execution?” Stolas squeaked. 

Satan shook his head. “Do you really think I’d let you off that easily?” He continued. “You committed an illegal act, one that violates the order of this state. One that has disobeyed and has not only tainted the legacy as The Goetia but as your own; The great prince of Hell.” His voice lowered as the aggression became stronger. “You really think death would be a suitable answer to your crime? To no longer think of the harm you displayed upon your family? Your ancestors, your wife, your daughter?”

Stolas nodded weakly. “No” He mouthed. “N-not at all…”

Satan sneered. “I thought so.” He inhaled, his tone turned reserved. “Such waste shall not decay its legacy any further, can they?” Before Stolas’ attempted to respond, Satan slammed his face down the rocky floor. He let out a muffled screamed as his face banged to the rock’s gritty texture. His body jittered out of his initial standing position as he felt something inside of him jumping vigorously to be out of his body. Satan grabbed his neck in a tight grasp, causing Stolas to choke as his eyes darkened; only seeing Satan’s icy glare with his mouth disclosing; “You reap what you sow,” before it all turned to black.

***

His eyelids slowly opened half-way as he turned around to the grand door. He sprung up and knocked firmly on it, only to be given with no response. He aggressively kept knocking with the same non-response. His teeth bared along with his feathers bursting from his skin as he attempted to transform into his demon form. Yet all that came out was tiny feathers on the floor. The pupils of his eyes widened to shaky dots as he stared at his hands. ‘What is wrong with me?’ He wondered, aghast. He raised his hands to appear his magic, flickering the same movements he was taught, and yet the magic never re-appeared as before. He gasped as he slowly shifted towards the door, his teeth gritted as his hands turned to a fist. “HEY!” He shouted. “SATAN! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME-” He got cutted off by burning coffee splashing from the back of his head to his eye, drenching his feathers with a disgusting pale brown liquid. An imp wearing a janitor uniform with one of their horns being slightly chopped off yelled back; “You suck, Stolas!” While raising a middle finger towards his direction. Stolas turned back to the janitor and scoffed. “Excuse you, I am a Goetia and Great Prince of Hell. You shall not speak to me like that-”

“Then where’s your crown then, huh?!” They cutted Stolas off as they turned their head back, cackling. Before opening his mouth, Stolas began to touch his crown, only to feel the soft feathers of his head. He froze as he stared at his clothes; No golden crown that accompanied his sophisticated hat, no fluffy posh cape, not even maintaining the clothes with of popping velvet-red. It’s now dingy with a pale red alongside a drabby texture, fading it’s life away just like his now-gone powers. His pants scruffed with cuts in some areas, making him look like those imps he saw on the streets. He coiled. Gasping in between breaths as he fixated on his hands, trembling rapidly.

A light bulb has gone off in his head. Blitz! He turned around yet didn’t see him. “Blitz?” Stolas echoed in the hallway. He takes a few steps forward. “Blitzy?” His hands quivered together as the minutes passed without a word from Blitzo. Stolas speeded out in the hallways, screaming with all of his might; “BLITZZZZZZY! WHERE ARE YOU?!” 

***

His knees were like worms, crawling itself as he kept running while on the verge of collapse. As he rummaged across the unfinished limp buildings, people from it dumped their garbage onto Stolas, chanting their insults -

“Fuck you!”

“Racist piece of shit!”

“Ha! How’d ya like being poor now?!”

He wiped off their trash as he hurried to get to Blitzo, the only one he can rely on at this point. The only imp he truly needed. He’s his imp, his doll. A doll too must take care of their owners, after all. 

He saw a demon silhouette dancing with another who looked wolf-like in a wall of an alleyway. His eyes began to lit up as he rushed towards it. “BLITZZZZ!” He tripped in front of Blitzo, panting up to him like a dog. “Oh Blitzy-I-I’m so glad to see you, I was so scared-” His bright smile faded as he saw Blitzo’s disgusted face. 

“Y-you, you're not dead?” Blitzo snarled. His eyes crossed as he backed himself further away from Stolas.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve lost…everything. My family, my powers, my status, everything.” Stolas directed his eyes to Blitzo, pleading as he began to form tears. “Look, I-I know we didn’t have the best start but please if you can just-”

“No.” Blitzo rejected with a dead-panned tone.

Stolas lips were wincing. “B-but-” 

“No.” He repeated.

“Blitzo please! I-I don’t have anyone else!” His tears streamed down his face, wettening his feathers from blubbering. “You're the only one I have!” He felt his throat closing up, burying his face in his hands as he wailed loudly in front of Blitzo and Loona. Both glanced at each other as they rolled their eyes at him. 

As Stolas continued his weeping, Loona glare tightened as she began to raise her hand and smack Stolas’ puffy face. “Shut up! God, can you ever accept a no for once in your fucking life?!” She fumed. She jumped at Stolas before he could chime in a response. “You used my dad’s own fucking body,” she took a grip of his feathered head and began punching him throughout her speech, “for your own selfish gain,” her fists became harder each punch, “always acted like were nothing but little pets to you,” stolas’ beak began to bleed, streaking down his nose as Loona continued punching him, “and NOW when you lost that power, you still treat us like your pets-fuck you!” She forced Stolas back up before kicking her leg upwards to slam between Stolas’ legs. “FUCK YOU!” Stolas whined in pain as he curled himself up to a fetal position. 

“Loona, sweetie!” Blitzo comes up to Loona as she’s seethed. “It’s okay-”

“No it’s not okay!” Loona snapped. “He’s a racist rapist and thinks he can just prey his way back-” She paused as she stared at Blitzo. “I-I’m sorry dad.” She stuttered in a regretful tone. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” Blitzo gave Loona a warm smile. “It’s okay sweetie. I just don’t want you to waste time on..” He paused as he directed himself towards Stolas in a crossed glare. “Him.” Stolas can feel Blitzo’s eyes pierced through him in the same way those at the Demon Jury did. “He’s not even worth it.” Stolas watched Blitzo and Loona leave as his body remained frozen, unable to speak. Not even a whine or wail or peep out of him. Nothing. All he has now is his thoughts. The very thing he avoided for so long. And all it has been doing so far is repeated those final words; 'You reap what you sow.'

[chaifootsteps]

somethng I just noticed - Stolas was borrowing Blitzo's phone for most of Sinsmas, which is why Via's contact is stored as "Stolas' daughter" or something similar and Stolas answers a call from someone offering extended warranty on a robo pony.

And Stolas destroys that too when he has his little temper tantrum. yeah it's a running gag Blitzo's phone gets destroyed but normally he's the one to do it. Blitz leant Stolas his phone for a good long while just so he could wait for contact from Via and he destroys that in a fit of spite just like he tries to wreck his office

it's like he doesn't respect anything of Blitz's - he winces at his horse obsession, turns his nose up at his food, tries to overturn his desk and wrecks his phone and it's yet another red flag for abuse when one party doesn't respect the other's property

God, I didn't even notice that one. Good catch. It's 100% abuse, and a textbook sign of abuse...they always destroy your things, never their own.

[shell-shock-ed]

// Intro post! //

Hi, I'm Gabe! huge fan of metal cardbots and i decided to make this entirely self-indulgent rp blog made specifically for my metal cardbots oc, ShellShocked.

Basics are, no NSFW. While I am an adult, a handful of the other rp blogs are minors and I do not want to subject them or any other minors to any uncomfortable topics.

Keep it PLATONIC, please. There is only one person I will allow to flirt with my oc (@mackeralsauce) and Shellshocked's relationship with the other cardbots is STRICTLY platonic.

If I find out you're a proshipper, you will be blocked. If you pester me about answering your question, I will not answer it.

As for Shellshocked:

Pronouns are he/him. He is a mute robot from the planet Machina. His voice box was damaged in the explosion, rendering him nonverbal. He has a bad biting habit and spends most of his time swimming or hanging out near bodies of water. He will occasionally hang out at Edo's place, mainly to chew on Black Hook's plating or have an energy snack with Buffalo Crush. His main way of communication is via a datapad, which he will type out his answers to any questions or statements sent here.

and here is his appearance, he has a shark alt-mode!

while i AM an oc blog, here are some other rp blogs that feature canon characters as well as ocs!

Blue Cop-- @blue-policerobot

Mega Trucker -- @thelatinodancerbot

Mega Ambler -- @unlicensedmedicalcardbot

Shadow X -- @shadowx-ishere1

Dexter-- @k1ttykatwhisperer

Fleta Z-- @gracefulbountyhunter

Buster Gallon-- @bustergall0n

Black Hook-- @capta1nstreasure

Heavy Iron-- @heavyironsbasement

Red Blitz-- @the-crimson-flash

Cielo-- @cielo-metal-cardbot

Rock Crush-- @thedrillingmole

Blast Train-- @b1asttrain

Flame Nova-- @flamen0va

Flash Vector-- @plebec-invisk8r

Buffalo Crush-- @milkywayofficial1

Cosmic Void-- @cosmic-void-themagician

Yellow Jacket-- @askyellowjacket

Vagabund-- @vagabund-rp

// my art blog is @important-quest1on-anon btw if you know me hehe hi :]