#helluvaboss fanfic

[filosofieke]

Stolas screaming that he doesn’t look down on Blitz during Apology Tour could have been so beautiful if we had believed him.

But of course we did not, since there was a lot of evidence to the contrary (I do believe Stolas when he says he thinks highly of Blitz, it’s a complicated thing they have).

I hope Stolas gets confronted with how wrong that statement feels, and for Octavia to be the one who informs him. So if I were to do a helluvaboss one shot fanfic, it would be that.

[nottapossum]

NottaPossum Masterpost: (Itty Bitty Imps blog/Masterpost) Book 1: Itty Bitty Imps: Complete

Playlist for the fic 🎶 -Music Chapters: Chapter 1: Chapter 2: Chapter 3: Chapter 4: Chapter 5: Chapter 6: Chapter 7: Chapter 8: Chapter 9 Chapter 10: Chapter 11: Chapter 12: Chapter 13: Chapter 14: Chapter 15: Chapter 16: Chapter 17: Chapter 18: Chapter 19: Chapter 20: Chapter 21: Chapter 22: ⚠️If you liked this book, Check out the rest of the series here:

❤️The Official Itty Bitty Imps Masterpost 🍼🐛

--Notes/Info for Itty Bitty Imps: Classification AU: Members in hell are forced to take a classification test that determines what they are:

-Neutrals -Caregivers -Littles

-Babysitters

-Pet regressors

-Handlers

And occasionally you’ll get a special neutral classification like poet, Ruler, exc.

For especially Imps and Hellhounds, (the lowest beings in hell), their results have everything to do with their future.

That’s why some imps had learned to cheat the system…

Blitzø being one of them.

---Helluva Classifications:---

Blitzø❤️: Not officially little, classified a neutral after cheating on the test Stolas 💜: Caregiver

-Fizzarolli 💚 Little

-Asmodeus 💙 Neutral/ Guardian

-Millie ❤️🔥 Guardian

-Moxxie ❤️🩹 Neutral type: Poet Little/ Pet regressor

-Loona 🖤 Caregiver

-Octavia 💖 ???

-Beelzebub: 50% Caregiver 50% Guardian

-Mammon: 40% Little 60% Gardian -Littles info:

Blitzø: Little Age: 1-5 Fizzerolli: Little Age: 5-8 Moxxie Little age: 0-4

🧡???

Age: ??

Others:

❤️‍🔥Sallie May: Age 8-15

🌌: Age 3-13

⭐️🦜Vassago: CG

❄️Andrealphus

❄️⭐️Vassago and Andrealphus

💕🖤Verosika : CG

💚💜Wally wackford: Little age 5-8

❤️Kat: teen/babysitter: 13-17

🖤🩶Kiki: flip age 1-3

🩸: ??

⚠️Warning: This story is not all fluffy and cute, this story is more about healing childhood trauma, and healing the inner child by accepting help and accepting regression as a coping therapeutic method. (there’s plenty of hurt/comfort and cute fluff, but that’s not all it is) in these books we will be discussing dark topics like child abuse, sexual abuse, death, emotional abuse, PTSD, depression, struggling in life, suicidal thoughts, toxic relationships, and even hating one’s own regression and dealing with impure age regression. ⚠️ More specific character notes in the Itty Bitty Imps Masterpost -Dm me if you'd like to be part of my Taglist ~Feel free to ask questions, share ideas, or request something!~ Tag for Questions and Headcannons will be: #IttyBittyImpsQ&H - _ _ _ _

Itty Bitty Sinners:

Full Masterpost here!

Part 1:

-CHAPTER 1

-CHAPTER 2

-CHAPTER 3

-CHAPTER 4

-CHAPTER 5:

-CHAPTER 6

-CHAPTER 7:

-CHAPTER 8:

-CHAPTER 9:

-CHAPTER 10:

-Chapter 11:

Part 2:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (coming soon)

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Part 3: Coming soon

-

ONE SHOTS!

-Six (woah)

-Happy (Late) Birthday Angel

-Attention!

Notes/little ages and test results.

All ages!

Charlie:

Vaggie:

Charlie and Vaggie: Notes and Info

⚙️Pentious: 60% Little 40% Neutral

Pentious: Notes and info

🩸Niffty: 50% ?? 50% Handler

Niffty: notes and info

📺Vox: Flip

💗Velvette: Flip

Valentino: ?

Vox, Val, and Velvette: Notes and info

♥️Husk:

🕸Angel

Husker and Angel dust: Notes and info

🦌Alastor: Little

🌹Rosie: Caregiver

Alastor and Rosie notes and info

Heaven classifications

#Ittybittysinners Is what every chapter and post for itty bitty sinners will be tagged.

And questions and headcannons will be tagged #ittybittysinnersq&h

[kinsey3furry300]

Caved and wrote more Hellaverse Fanfic

In the same continuity as the last two:

https://www.tumblr.com/kinsey3furry300/781100611736305664/caved-and-wrote-fanfiction-about-the-damn-gay-owl

https://www.tumblr.com/kinsey3furry300/782096998396510208/caved-yet-again-and-wrote-a-part-2-to-the-damn-gay?source=share

The Fixer: A Helluvaboss/Hasbin fanfic.

Part One: a prince awakens

The Fixer frowned as he arrived at the palace, and rang the bell. Not getting a response, he angrily rang it a second and third time. It was the middle of the night, and the sky over Pride was blood red.

After a moment, the door opened, a terrified looking imp underbutler stared up at The Fixer: tall, pale handsome, apparently human if not for the hunched shoulders of his coat suggesting wings. From inside the dark mansion, there was a noticeable sound of panicked voices.

“Duke Astaroth? Asked the imp. “Y-your grace, we didn’t expect you so soo-”

“Show me.” The Fixer commanded, stamping out a cigarette on the top step, staining the white marble black.

“I, yes your grace. We, we tired to call King Paimon but-”

“Paimon is busy in a war council, one I should not have left, so this better be as urgent as you described. You say this was a spontaneous manifestation? No one taught or prompted the child on how to do this?” he said, stalking rapidly down the long gallery past the portraits, forcing the smaller imp to run to keep up.

“N-no, your grace. Not that I know of. It just happened, the head butler was just-”

“And the power is unconnected to his previous manifestations? Not connected to portal teleportation or object manipulation?”

“No, your grace.”

“Interesting. And it’s nature you say he-“ The Fixer paused and stopped his rapid march. There was crying, the district sounds of a child sobbing coming from beyond the door, a breathy, desperate sob that turned half hoot on every exhalation. The Fixer looked down: The imp had grabbed his wrist instinctively to prevent him entering the room, and the underbutler seemed frozen in fear, eyes wide, staring at the part open door like it might bite him. The Duke glared for a moment, and sensing it the imp let go of his cuff like it was hot.

Cocking his head on one side, Hell’s Fixer, the problem solver for the Court Goetia, gently, cautiously, pushed the door open. He stood in the doorway for a long time, just looking.

“Ah.” He said, eventually. “I see.” He looked down. The imp was standing in the corridor, perpendicular to the door, unwilling to look inside. They were playing with the front of their uniform, staring into the middle distance, and trying not to cry. Now that he looked properly, Duke Astaroth saw what might be a family resemblance between the under butler and the senior butler.

He sighed, sadly, and gave the butler a re-assuring squeeze on the shoulder. “I’ll handle this. Heat some milk and bring it here, and I think a tot of brandy in it would not go amiss given the situation. Get yourself one as well, and then take the rest of the night off. I’ll deal with this. Tell no-one, and I’ll make sure you’re looked after. Understood?”

The Butler sobbed, and then buried his face in his frock coat, nodding through the tears.

“Good chap.” Said the Fixer. “See that we’re not disturbed.” He said, stepping into the dark bedroom, and pulling the door shut behind him.

He paused on the brink of the room a moment, pondering his journey, and then begun to delicately pick his way across the room. Why were young children’s bedrooms always creepy as fuck without normal context? He thought. Far too many plushies adorned every surface, their dead glassy eyes watching every misdeed as he weaved thought more stuffies and discarded books littering the floor. There was a pattern to the mess, he realised as his eyes adjusted to the dark: toys and books blasted outwards from the epicentre that was the bed, the bed itself now lying cracked and canted over to one side. Unsurprising, given even slight telekinesis took a lot of practice to master. The room was dark, humid, oppressively hot, and it stank: fear-sweat, the baby-sick smell of spilt milk already starting to sour in the heat, the menthol smell of a child-friendly decongestant or vapour rub, wet feathers, burnt stone, vomit. He was unsurprised to see the boy had thrown up, given the situation.

He paused by the… object… for a moment to examine it. It was every part as horrible and mildly impressive as he’d been lead to expect, but the panicked phone-call had not been able to convey the sheer tragedy of it.  He looked down. A dropped tray, broken crockery: a child’s china cup with a motif of stars and various cute woodland creatures lay shattered on the floor, in a sticky puddle of cooling milk. He kneeled, to examine it. A single tablet was there, already dissolving into the carpet. You would think it was a hard candy, if not for Belphegor’s Sigil stamped on the thing.

“Dammit Pai, I said this was a bad idea.” He muttered. Fucking absent parents and their willingness to medicate their kids…

He sighed, and turned to his right, towards the noise, looking under the ruins of the bed.

There was a depressingly small puddle of vomit, several lost feathers, and a huddled and quivering mass under the bed. Wrapped in a comforter and clutching an imp plushie the prince made for an almost unrecognisable bundle of shivering feathers. Four red eyes, tear streaked and wild with fear peered out at The Object, and the Duke of Hell felt a deep sadness for the wreathed little creature.

“Prince Stolas.” He said gently. “It’s me, you uncle Az. Do you remember me? I took you horseback riding in Wrath, your birthday before last, when your father couldn’t make it because of that important meeting. Do you remember?”

“I… you taught me to shoot a rifle. I wasn’t very good at it. And… you went skiing on Pluto with mother and my half siblings and I, I think? Once before that? You’re Duke Astaroth, you’re not really my uncle, but you work with father? You sent me a card for my birthday last week? And a book about Ivy, it was a good book… your grace.”

“Thank you. I see you remember your courtesies, your highness. Did you have a good birthday?”

“I… I saw father. I made a new friend. We went to the circus with Mr Butler I… oh god what I have I done?! He’s dead, isn’t he?”

The Owlet started to cry. Unheeding of the vomit, Az reached down into the little nest under the bed, and yanked him out and into a rough hug.  Up close, the boy stunk of menthol, sweat, and burnt stone, as well as the ozone smell indicative of serious magical discharge.

He didn’t care. He held the shivering owlet and let it scream and cry into his shoulder untill it had sobbed itself out. It’s body was so small, so surprisingly hot, and he could feel it’s heart hammering.

On one level, he resented the fact that Paimon wasn’t here to fix this shit himself, the boy deserved his father at a moment like this, but on another level, The Fixer had no illusions about his old friends actual parenting abilities, and the boy needed a shoulder to cry on without getting scolded for it. The situation was already bad enough without adding Paimon’s idea of childrearing into the mix.

If this one turns out normal, I’ll eat my wings. Thought The Fixer, nodding at the underbutler as the door opened, the imp tip-toed across the room, unable to look at either the Princeling or the… object… and deposited the second tray of hot milk before fleeing the room. He approached the owlet like an unexploded bomb, Astaroth noticed, and he made a mental note to replace all the above-stairs staff. The kid would have no hope of a normal life if his servants, the only people in his world, flinched every time they looked at him.

He groaned, quietly. What a mess…

“Here, drink your milk. It will make you feel better.” He said, when the sobbing has slowed to only a few snorts per minute.

“I… I don’t want any milk, sir I-”

“Well, drink it all the same, son. You’ve had a shock and this will calm you.” He said, sitting cross-legged putting the Owl on his knee and practically forcing the milk into his hands. He kept his back to the Object so he didn’t have to look at it, but was careful to angle himself so Stolas couldn’t see it either. The boy winced at the taste of the milk, the underbutler had clearly had a shaky hand when it came to measuring the brandy, but the boy finished it without complaining, his small body hot through his thin pyjamas. He hiccupped a couple of times, and having cried himself out, full of milk and smelling of brandy, he did seem to calm down a little and become drowsy, so Astaroth felt confident enough to ask the only question that mattered.

“So… What happened?”

“I… I was having a dream, and awful dream!”

“A nightmare.” Said Astaroth, smiling to show the boy it was okay. “What happened in your dream?”

“I… it’s hard to recall. There was…. A child lost in the palace, and they were trying to find their father, but no matter how hard they tired, they couldn’t, he was gone, and it was so awful.”

The fixer winced. Damn you, Paimon! “I see, and let me guess, you were this child?”

To his surprise the boy shook his head “No, it was someone else. I girl I think. But… I felt that I knew her.  She was so sad, and I couldn’t help her and it was all my fault I… it was terrible. I don’t want to think about it! I don’t want to!”

Interesting. Thought Astaroth, turning his head. The Goetia Grimoire was sitting on the beside table, somehow spared the destruction of the room. “I see. Were you practicing your divinations before bed? Trying to read the future?”

“Yes, but… I don’t think I’m doing it right. I never see anything that makes sense just… sadness. Just such sadness and horror… is… is that going to be my future, uncle? Sadness and loss?”

Astaroth hugged, the boy “No, my sweet prince, you are a Goetia, and your life with be wrapped in silk. You… you’re new to this. You’ve only been practicing for what? A week? It makes sense that you would have some… teething problems. So, you had a nightmare, just a silly dream that means nothing." Lied The Fixer. "What then? What happened next?”

The boy shivered, and hugged himself “I don’t know.” He lied.

Astaroth sighed, he didn’t want to be the arsehole here, but sometimes you had to defuse the bomb before you helped the survivors. “I think you do.” He said, turning slightly, so that the boy could see The Object.  As expected the boy screamed, and threw himself into a hug, crying.

“I can fix this, that’s what I do.” Said the Duke, stroking the downy feathers at the back of the boy’s head. “But only if I know exactly what happened. You had a nightmare, what happened next?”

“I… I woke up. The bed was shaking, I was frightened. This has happened before, when I move things with my magic, but never like this, I… Mr Butler must have heard the noise and come it to help me. I… I didn’t Know.” Sobbed the boy. “I didn’t know it was him! I just saw a strange shape moving in the dark and I just looked at it and… oh Lucifer, what have I done?”

“You looked at it? Eye contact, no spoken word?” asked the Fixer. The boy nodded, and nuzzled into his chest, frightened and exhausted. Interesting. Automatic defence mechanism? He looked over his shoulder at The Object. I could do that, if I wanted to, but it would take an incantation, and hand movement at the least….

“Here, don’t cry.” he said, picking up the small owlet and moving it to the far corner of the room, away from The Object, and sitting him in from of a cracked, but still usable mirror.

“Now, Prince Stolas, I know you’ve been very brave, but I need you to be a little braver still… I’m going to summon an illusion, and looking at it in the mirror, I what you to try and do the same thing again. I want you to look at it like you did before, okay?”

“No! No I never want to do that again! I-”

“Prince Stolas.” Said the fixer, firmly. “Have you forgotten what I taught you when we shot that rifle? Always treat a weapon like it’s loaded. Never assume it is safe, unless you yourself have made it safe. Unless you can replicate what you did, learn how to control this, well... Do you want to do it to someone else without meaning to? To your father, or mother?”

“No! No!” pleaded the boy “I don’t want that!”

“Well.” Said the Duke, summoning a small wraith. “We’ll use the mirror, so we’re nice and safe, but before I can leave you alone, I need to know you can control this, and do it at will. So just relax, let your mind drift back to where you were when you woke up, afraid that there was a thing moving around in your room, and focus…”

It took over an hour before the boy was able to do it again. Astaroth had to flare the wraith up into a scary shape, startling the boy, and then the crying started again. He felt like shit, but it needed doing. It took another forty minutes after that for the child to work out how he was doing it, and how to reliably do it on command, eyes flaring red, and the wraith dusting from a gas to a fine sand mid-air. The air stunk of burnt stone and ozone by the time they were done, and Hell’s Fixer finally judged it was safe to put the princeling to bed.

He picked up the exhausted owl in the crook of his elbow, and waved a hand, idly, the wreckage of the room flying backwards like a reverse explosion, the bed righting itself, plushies, flying back to shelves or favoured positions on the pillows, gentle light as candles lit themselves, even the spilt milk and the puddle of owl-vomit cleaned itself up. In a heartbeat, the room was as neat and sweet and cosy as any child could hope for.

Other than The Object, that was.

Stolas bilked drowsily as Astaroth moved to tuck him in “Uncle Az… you, you said you could fix this?”

“Yes, your highness, I will fix this.” He said, tucking the owlet in. He really is a cute kid, Astaroth thought. Pity about what’s planned for him.  He added, with a sinking stomach and a little guilt. He knew what happened to cute kids in hell: other than the Morningstar’s brat, none of them kept this sort of innocence for long.

“So… he’ll be all right? You can fix him?”  asked Stolas, nervously.  

The Fixer froze, face hidden in darkness as he leaned over the boy. He was very aware the palace staff were listening from the hallway.

“Of course.” He said, briskly, tucking the boy in. “Perfectly reversable magical phenomena. Entirely normal for a growing demon, we all have these little accidents, tiny bits of magical incontinence, you just wait until puberty hits.” He said, levitating The Object out of the door while the child was distracted. “No, they’ll need to go down to Sloth for some magical treatment, but Belphegor fixes worse than this all the time. It… it might take some time to fix. He… he may not come back any time soon, and well, he is approaching a well-deserved retirement anyway, but I’m sure once he’s better he’ll write to you.” The child, to his credit, look unsure.

Astaroth kissed him on the forehead, party to curtal any posable questions, and partly because fucking hell, the kid needed some parenting from someone. “Goodnight, little prince. It is always a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’ll give your regards to your father, maybe we can meet up and see him some time over the next few months, wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Y-yes uncle.” Muttered the owl, yawning. Emotionally drained, exhausted, and full of adrenalin byproducts, mood-stabilizers, milk and brandy, the little prince was asleep in seconds.

The Fixer stood over the bed for a long time, waiting until he was certain the boy was fully asleep.

Then he bent down and recovered a small piece of stone from the floor that had broken off when he had levitated The Object out of the room.

It looked distressingly like a finger.

+++

He found the underbutler by the kitchen door, watching as two of the security hellhounds manhandled The Object onto a truck. The underbutler was sitting in heap, clothes dishevelled, holding his face and sobbing, a bottle of brandy in his lap.

The Fixer sighed.  He leaned against the wall next to the butler, shivering in the chill night air a cold night in hell he thought rare enough in Pride. An ill omen. He lit a cigarette, took a couple of quick puffs to get it blazing, and then passed it down to the underbutler. The butler looked up, surprise and anger in his eyes, before wiping his eyes on his sleeve and taking the proffered smoke without question, hands shaking badly as he took a drag. He passed up the brandy bottle as Astaroth was lighting a second smoke, and the Duke took it with a nod, wiping the neck of the bottle down before taking a cautious sip. Finding it pleasing, he took a deeper draught, before passing the bottle back down.

“You should have called me sooner. His powers are manifesting earlier than expected. Were he female I’d expect some minor powers to manifest at 12, but this? Unprecedented. His cousin Andrealphus is considered a prodigy for what he can do with ice at 14, but this is beyond prodigious, it’s concerning.”

“We… we called his father, your grace.”

The Fixer snorted out smoke, and gestured for the bottle to be passed back up.

“May as well have called a fucking brick wall. I love the man like a brother, but an attentive parent Paimon is not. Lucifer’s Taint! This is a mess.” Said the Duke, sipping brandy.

“Y-you said you could fix him? That Belphegor could cure this?” asked the Imp. The Duke looked down, as if noticing him for the first time.

“I did. For the child’s benefit. But we are not children, let’s be realistic here.” He said, looking at The Object. “No, he’s dead as a doornail, poor fool. You were a relation?”

“Nephew” said the imp, crying “He’s my uncle, on my mother’s side. He… he got me this job, sir.”

Astaroth sighed with relief. “Oh thank fuck, I thought you might be his son. My condolences. Did he have any family, other than you and your mother?”

The underbutler shook his head. “Married to the job, sir. Old family retainer. He, he treated the little price like the son he never had, sir. And it was mutual.”

The Fixer sighed. “Yes, these things sure know how to stick it in and break it off, don’t they? The Prince will be devastated, I’m sure. Still.” Said the Duke. “Throwing himself in front of the Prince when that assassin came at him in the night? A heroic death in the line of duty? That warrants a considerable pay-out under the terms of his contract, plus a sizable bonus no doubt. Name in the newspapers, nice obituary… wraps things up neatly, doesn’t it.” Said The Fixer, looking down “and all that money will go to your mother, so long as you keep to the terms of your NDA, and keep your mouth shut. Understood?”

“I… yes sir.”

“Sir?” asked the Fixer, smoke curling around his fingers.

“Yes, your grace.”

The Fixer smiled. “Better. I was thinking of letting go all the staff, getting a fresh start for the Prince: we can’t have him surrounded by people who are going to whisper behind his back, but I’m starting to realise that the little prince does need a few familiar faces to stay on, for his own wellbeing. If you’d consider staying on, I’ll double your wages. Consider it… hazard pay. An insurance against any future magical accidents.”

“Do… do you think it will happen again your grace?” said the butler, staring at The Object. The Fixer shrugged, and passed the bottle back down.

“No, I think we have this particular power under control. But who knows? This is hell, and we are all monsters here.” He said, looking at the object, really looking at it, and cocking his head on one side.

The petrified Imp would have been no-where near as upsetting if their face was frozen in fear or some sort of dread rictus, but it was the expression of concern, mild surprise, and love on his frozen, stony face that was very upsetting, as well as the realistic way he was crouching, one hand still holding the tray, the other reaching out as if to stroke back a feather off a sleeping child’s forehead. It was… Unsettling rather than frightening.

“Well look on the bright side, your mother will have one hell of a grave monument for him.” Said The Fixer, grinding the cigarette out on the step, and vanishing into the night.

Plan to do two or three more parts.

[eldritchcreatureofwords]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Helluva Boss (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Octavia Goetia/Loona, Blitzo/Stolas Goetia, Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Asmodeus | Ozzie/FizzaRolli (Helluva Boss) Characters: Octavia Goetia, Stolas Goetia, Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Millie (Helluva Boss), Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Asmodeus | Ozzie (Helluva Boss), FizzaRolli (Helluva Boss) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Blitzo is Bad at Feelings (Helluva Boss), Blitzo Being Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Caring Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Blitzo Has Issues (Helluva Boss), Hurt Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Loona Cares About Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Stolas Goetia Needs a Hug, Stolas Goetia Loves Blitzo, Good Parent Stolas Goetia, Stolas (Helluva Boss) is Trying, Protective Stolas Goetia, it's the end of the world as we know it, And They Aren't Fine Summary:

If you think the end of the world is going to take Stolas from Blitz, think again. No one gives Stolas Goetia nightmares. No one. Chapter 3 is up!

[eldritchcreatureofwords]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Helluva Boss (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex Relationships: Blitzo/Stolas Goetia, Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Asmodeus | Ozzie/FizzaRolli (Helluva Boss), Blitzo/Stella Goetia/Stolas Goetia, Beelzebub/Loona/Vortex (Helluva Boss), Andrealphus/Vassago (Helluva Boss) Characters: Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Striker (Helluva Boss), Bombproof | Striker's Horse (Helluva Boss), Stolas Goetia, Stella Goetia, Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Millie (Helluva Boss), Andrealphus (Helluva Boss), Vassago (Helluva Boss), Asmodeus | Ozzie (Helluva Boss), FizzaRolli (Helluva Boss) Additional Tags: Teenagers will be having sex in this, nothing graphic but if that bothers you look elsewhere, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, dubcon, Dubcon Kissing, Striker Being a Jerk (Helluva Boss), Striker is a slimy asshole here, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Stella is Not a Bitch (Mostly), Polyamory, Family Fluff, Family Feels, Team as Family, Whump, Blitzo is Pronounced Blitz (Helluva Boss), Blitzo Being Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Stolas Goetia Loves Blitzo, Stolas Goetia Needs a Hug, Blitzo Loves Stolas Goetia, Protective Stolas Goetia, Blitzo is Bad at Feelings (Helluva Boss), Caring Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Protective Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Hurt Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

Blitz is given to a Goetia woman when he is a young child for reasons no one really understands. He is adopted and treated as one of the family by this woman and her son; a young Goetia named Stolas. He is raised as a Goetia, though trained to be a bodyguard and protector. The heir and the spare.

Years later, their mother is killed in a fire- in a horrific circus visit gone wrong, where two young boys decide smoking in a barn is a brilliant idea and nearly kill themselves as well.

Blitz is still an imp, and now one crushed by guilt and badly injured. The kids navigate growing up together, falling in love, marriage, poly ships, and social hierarchy; all while someone has started making attempts on Stolas's life- and trying to get Blitz to turn his back on the people he has come to love.

Ft:

Millie and Moxxie as Stella and Stolas's personal servants Loona as a bodyguard Fizz as the Unexpected and Barely Remembered Brother and Best Friend Striker as Striker Dragonform! Blitz

And much more! Chapter four of this is up! It’s not getting much engagement but I hope some of you are enjoying it lol. 

[eldritchcreatureofwords]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Helluva Boss (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Octavia Goetia/Loona, Blitzo/Stolas Goetia, Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Asmodeus | Ozzie/FizzaRolli (Helluva Boss) Characters: Octavia Goetia, Stolas Goetia, Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Millie (Helluva Boss), Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Asmodeus | Ozzie (Helluva Boss), FizzaRolli (Helluva Boss) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Blitzo is Bad at Feelings (Helluva Boss), Blitzo Being Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Caring Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Blitzo Has Issues (Helluva Boss), Hurt Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Loona Cares About Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Stolas Goetia Needs a Hug, Stolas Goetia Loves Blitzo, Good Parent Stolas Goetia, Stolas (Helluva Boss) is Trying, Protective Stolas Goetia, it's the end of the world as we know it, And They Aren't Fine Summary:

If you think the end of the world is going to take Stolas from Blitz, think again. No one gives Stolas Goetia nightmares. No one.

[blitzinthesauce]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[nottapossum]

When you're so fixated on a certain fanfic author that you impatiently wait a whole week for an update, checking every day to see if maybe they posted early...

Just to get through the week...

And get super annoyed because they haven't updated yet!

It's been a week! Ahhh!

Yes. I'm a hypocrite, I know. Lol 😆

But all day, I've been obsessively looking for updates! I can't wait forever 🥺

In da aaaaarrrrmmmsss offff the aaaamngeellll 🎶