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Cause of death…
credit: @P5YCAMORE
Sallie May/Striker + Our Tremors AU /eyebrow waggle
send me prompts for mini hazbin hotel and/or helluva boss fics!
A/N: I was going to do something more serious but the idea wasn’t cooperating, so you get this instead.
“You want us to run?” Sallie May asks, looking from Blitzo to Moxxie and then to Striker. Throughout this whole ordeal, she hasn’t had much faith in either Blitzo or Moxxie, as it seems to be sheer dumb luck that’s gotten them this far. Striker, on the other hand, seems to know what he’s doing, and she can hope he has a better idea.
“Do you have a better idea?” Blitzo asks, gesturing wide and vaguely around them. “‘Cause we’re kinda running outta fucking options here.”
“He’s got a point,” Striker says, and Sallie May gapes at him. “Sometimes all that’s left t’do is run.”
“Y’all can’t be fuckin’ serious,” she groans, pinching at the bridge of her nose.
“As the plague, darlin’,” Striker says with a grin. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”
And before she can protest any further, he’s holding a pistol out toward her. “Here. You can take this, if it’ll make you feel any better.”
Despite the situation, she happily accepts the weapon. “Well, maybe it does. Just a little.” In situations like this, the little things have to count.
“Good girl,” Striker grins, and gives her hip a pat with the spade of his tail.
The plan from thereon out is as simple as it sounds: abandon one safe place for another, and make a mad man’s dash across open desert to do it while the things underground are distracted. The distraction won’t last long, and there’s a chance it won’t even work on all the worms, but it’s better than staying in one place and waiting to die.
Running seems to be working, and it’s a moment of adrenaline that makes Sallie May try to take a crackshot at a dust cloud not too far away. She pulls the trigger, the hammer clicks, and clicks, and clicks.
When they reach their newest safe space, she all but throws the pistol back at Striker, hitting him in the chest with it.
“You asshole!” she pants, snarling at him. “There ain’t no bullets in that gun!”
Striker grins at her, casually twirling the gun about his index finger before holstering it. He winks, using his tail to stroke her cheek teasingly.
“Gotcha runnin’ though, didn’t it?”
Kinktober 2021
Hey fam! It’s that time again!
And after looking at several prompt lists, I decided to just smush them all together and do a random generation. For my own sanity, I’m going to try to keep day to about 500 words. 😅
2020
Day 1: Roleplay – Papa III X Reader
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Fandom: Helluva Boss Characters: Striker, Moxxie Ship: Striker / Moxxie A/N: NSFW commission for @petitprincess1. Kind of dub-con, but not really? Moxxie’s just too stubborn to hang up the phone or shut his mouth. Summary: Sometimes relief is just a phone call away.
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There was something to be said about the way Striker found himself unable to shake the memory of Moxxie from his mind. At first, he had chalked it up to annoyance, aggravation, and the expectation that they would inevitably come face to face again. When that happened, Striker liked to think that the little imp wouldn’t be so lucky; none of them would be. However, the more he allowed himself to think about Moxxie, the harder it became to shake the thought of the way that smaller body felt under his own. The way that lithe neck had felt under his hands, and the way that back had heaved against his chest.
What really caught him off guard, was the way he could so clearly remember the sound of Moxxie’s voice. Not just the grunting and wheezing from when Striker had been trying to steal his breath, but his unique cadence, too.
He had, perhaps, allowed himself to contemplate Moxxie as a whole for a little too long, and his body was beginning to react in surprising ways. He was only taken a little aback by his sudden arousal, but decided it best not to question it. In fact, he may as well have enjoyed it while he could.
Finding Moxxie’s phone number was probably not as difficult as the assassin would have liked it to be, but Striker didn’t spend too much time thinking about that. Shamelessly and without care for the late hour, he dialed the number, and then waited for the line to be answered. He knew the number he was calling from was unlisted, but he doubted that would stop Moxxie from answering.
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