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0bticeo · 6 months

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welcome to the show!

summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.

tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.

you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.

you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.

now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)

you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.

what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.

could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.

it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.

she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.

"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"

that one hit close home.

you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.

vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.

angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.

husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.

your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.

"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"

he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.

his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.

shit.

you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.

somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins.

the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.

you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.

"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"

you startle.

alastor.

you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.

"what do you want?" you snarl.

he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.

"why so aggressive, little vixen?"

his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.

your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.

he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.

"i just want a little taste..."

you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.

his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

"behave, little spy."

you laugh at that, baring your throat.

"was it really that obvious?"

he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.

his smile stretches, impossibly wide.

"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."

he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.

"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."

you scoff.

"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"

a pause. his lips trail down your throat.

"i suppose that's fair."

he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.

you do.

you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.

the sight of him takes your breath away.

there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.

he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.

oh.

something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.

on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.

vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.

the radio demon smiles.

"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"

#obticeo writes #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #i wrote this instead of sleeping #alastor what are you doing to me my god #stop

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itsclydebitches · 6 months

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Hazbin Hotel: Let's Talk About Cursing!

Trigger warning for lots of cursing in this post (obviously) and discussion of canon abuse scenes

As I delve further into the Hazbin Hotel fandom, I’ve inevitably come across a variety of people who dislike the show for an equal variety of reasons. One criticism I’ve seen with some consistency is in regards to the cursing and yeah, I get it. That’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. However, the repeated claim that the cursing is only there as a—failed—attempt at bad, lazy humor got me thinking about why I personally liked the cursing, and why I think it serves a greater purpose in the show.

Now yes, some of the cursing does function as an arguably simplistic joke. The most common setup I’ve noticed is one that leans into a contrast in tone/personalities. We see this a lot with the polite, comparatively timid Charlie as she navigates her distinctly vulgar domain.

Charlie: “Hi, mister!” Demon: “Go fuck yourself!”

The entirety of “Happy Day in Hell” plays with this contrast, setting up Charlie’s slightly skewed, but significantly optimistic perspective of Hell. We are shown again and again how her lyrics are contradicted or twisted into something less innocent through the visuals: a “revealing” street where it’s “hard not to stare” has BDSM going on in a nearby window, Charlie will “open the door” for her people and then literally does so... for a guy who’s already dead. (Or, you know, temporarily out of commission until he heals, or whatever demons do when they’re ‘killed’ by things other than angelic steel.) The entire point here is to contrast the happy, skipping girl claiming that there’s a “warm, fuzzy feeling” in the air with the actual environment of unchecked fires and decaying limbs. And yes, that can be amusing. Not necessarily for everyone as humor is highly subjective and dependent on context, but distilling this contrast down to the shock of a polite greeting getting a “Go fuck yourself!” in response is a kind of entertainment. Especially when Charlie’s reaction adds another layer: for me that’s a very funny—and currently relatable—expression.

We can potentially make the case that this humor format overstays its welcome, but I personally think the show does a good job of keeping Charlie’s cursing both simple and comparatively rare, so that when she is put into these contrast situations the humor lands better. The best example I can think of in the latter half of the show is Susan. There we get the whiplash of polite, trying-to-get-these-people-to-like-her Charlie reaching a breaking point to become “FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH” Charlie. It’s a moment that builds off of the earlier surprise of the courteous Alastor calling someone an “Ornery old bitch”—while Rosie is trying (and failing) to find a nicer way to phrase this.

However, as stated above I think the cursing serves more of a purpose than to just be funny for (some) viewers. Beyond those who simply find cursing distasteful, I’ve seen a fair bit of, “This is so stupid. No one even talks like that!” going around.

Except... I do? I talk like that.

See, I like cursing. I was born to former hippie parents and grew up playing MMOs, so cursing was something I became pretty acclimated to. Personally, I’m glad I was because I’m fascinated by language and cursing—for better or worse—is an integral way that many people communicate. I was taught to see cursing not as the Bad Forbidden Thing You Must Never Ever Do, but rather as just another form of expression, something to be used in moderation and under specific circumstances. Once I became an adult I already understood how I wanted to curse and when it was appropriate to do so. People at work are often shocked when I tell them I curse a lot because no, of course I’m not doing that at my job. That isn't considered professional in this space. Among my friends though?

We can sound a lot like the Hazbin crew.

Undoubtedly the most common curse in the show is “fuck” and its variations, which very much tracks with my personal experience among other people who curse. In fact, it’s so ubiquitous that it barely counts as a curse at all in some groups. It’s more of an easy, accepted way to add emphasis. Vaggie’s “What the fuck was that?” about Alastor’s commercial is a perfect example. She’s pissed and simply saying “What was that?” doesn’t carry the same weight, no matter how angry she may sound when she says it. Vox’s long “Fuuuuuuuck” at the end of “Stayed Gone” conveys an emotion you just can’t capture any other way. No dialogue at all would create a fundamentally different experience of Vox’s feelings and another non-cursing response is just gonna hit different. Not necessarily bad, just different.

“I don’t want to go to the party!” “I don’t want to go to the freaking party!” “I don’t want to go to the fucking party!”

The above represents three distinct characters to me and I think Hazbin Hotel gets that. Cursing isn’t thrown around randomly because something something cursing supposedly sells; it’s all linguistically logical. Characters curse when something surprising or bad happens, or when something unexpectedly good happens, when they’re angry, trying to be sexy, or they want to add that emphasis. That’s a lot of different situations where cursing can be useful and when you use “fuck” in your daily life a lot you become pretty desensitized to it. As said, for many it’s barely a curse at all. Which means that when you really want to curse you’ve got to up the ante. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that the two uses of “cunt” I can recall—a word that is generally considered far worse than “fuck” and makes a lot of people understandably uncomfortable—is used by two of the worst characters in moments that are meant to horrify the viewer:

Adam: “Can’t wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts / I know it’s just been a week, but we’ll be back in six months!” Valentino: “When I say you’d better get that fucking cunt out of my studio, you say...?”

This horror is especially emphasized in Valentino’s scene. The creators know this word is coming up and deliberately build towards it. Angel is currently being abused and has been reminded that Valentino “owns” him. The above question is a part of a trio that Valentino asks (a standard structure in writing), wherein the third option is the outlier/most shocking of the three. The animation leans into that shock, with the music building and Valentino grabbing Angel to pull him close right on the word “cunt.” Perez even puts emphasis there because he knows that this is a significant word that will change our understanding of Valentino.

Despite having hit Angel multiple times and taunting him with the contract, this is the moment Valentino stops playing the ‘nice’ employer. This is the real him. No more fake compliments and endearments aimed at Charlie, no more fake comfort/intimacy aimed at Angel. That “cunt” conveys a hell of a lot about how Valentino really sees them and when you have a cast of characters who are already cursing on the regular, it takes a word on that level to do that kind of work. If Valentino had said, “get that fucking bitch out of my studio” it wouldn’t have had nearly the same impact because he’s the kind of guy who uses "bitch" even when playing ‘nice.’

Adam’s line from “Hell is Forever” does very similar work. The scene needs a word to align with the horrific reveal that another extermination is just six months away, that conveys Adam’s deep disgust for Charlie’s people, and that still catches the viewer’s attention even though he’s the character (I believe) who curses the most. Here the music drops and Adam is a little closer to speaking than singing; there's this shift because, like with Valentino, our perception of him is shifting. This isn’t just some egotistical idiot who wants to be called “Dick Master,” he’s the leader of an army coming to gleefully kill them. Framing a whole world of people—people Charlie loves—as “cunts” while treating their murder as a holiday that can’t come soon enough creates an, 'Oh shit. This guy is actually a threat' understanding that you can’t quite get with anything else.

On a smaller scale, cursing does other character work throughout the whole show. I watched a number of cursing compilation vids for this meta (that was a trip lol) and again, cursing is not thrown in randomly. Each character has a unique way of cursing that aligns with their personality and motivations:

As said, Adam curses the most in the show which helps sell his truly over-the-top, irreverent personality. Linguistically, the amount he curses also allows for some fun grammatical play. Lines like, “Fucking love putting my name on shit, shit’s the best!” help convey the versatility of cursing.

Also as said, Charlie curses a fair bit but she’s comparatively polite and her cursing tends to be a result of genuinely big emotions—like saying “Crap” when she’s shocked and falls, or “Shit!” when Adam locks her out of the room—rather than sprinkled into her conversations as a modifier. That leaves space to create those moments of amused surprise when Charlie really let’s loose.

Sr Pentious curses even less than Charlie which fits his secretly gooey center. He talks a big game at the start of the show, but he’s actually quite bad at being, well, bad (especially the Amazon version compared to pilot!Pentious). His idea of getting one over on Alastor is ripping a bit of his coat. He loves his Egg Bois and “doesn’t want to live” without them. He has no desire to go into battle without minions/a big machine to hide behind and, of course, he’s the first to be redeemed. He's too much of a secret sweetheart to curse a lot.

Interestingly, Niffty doesn’t seem to curse at all. At least, not enough for me to think of examples off the top of my head. Right now I’m inclined to read that as an extension of her lived experiences/design—the cute 1950’s housewife archetype who is obsessed with keeping things clean doesn’t [gasp!] curse—as well as a way to maintain her legitimate creep factor. As said, cursing is common among the hotel residents and is a way for them to linguistically fit in. Niffty, however, is positioned more as an outsider (despite how much they all obviously love her): she’s actually scary in a way most demons aren’t and despite how weird this whole world is, she stands out as someone no one else can make sense of (even Alastor). If cursing is normal, Niffty is a character who is decidedly positioned as not normal.

Angel curses a fair bit, though his irreverence is conveyed more through innuendos. Angel is great at verbally twisting others’ words (especially Husk’s) to give himself a conversational advantage:

Husk: “Go fuck yourself” Angel: “Only if you watch me~”

Husk: “You’ve come—” Angel: [very loud orgasm noise] Husk: “...to the right place.”

Meanwhile, Husk uses “fuck” plenty, but he’s also one of the few characters who use “bullshit" too. I wouldn’t say there’s anything particularly revealing about that choice, but just giving him a go-to curse that’s otherwise used infrequently helps make his character distinct in a cast of other cursing characters.

Vaggie occasionally curses in Spanish, showing us her heritage if she used to be human, or a distinct knowledge/verbal preference if she’s always been an angel.

Heaven, as the ‘good’ side, doesn’t curse as a general rule, which leaves room for cursing to do more of that silent character work. We’re reminded of the stuffy, overly critical beings she’s dealing with when Charlie receives the combined judgement of the court for saying, “Fuck yeah!” In contrast, we understand just how shocked St. Peter is to see a Morningstar when he lets out an unintentional “Fuck!” The angry vindication of Charlie’s “That’s what the fuck I’ve been saying!” lands harder after multiple scenes of very little cursing, and Lute’s “Some crack-whore who fucked up already? / He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth—” helps set her apart as an exorcist + Adam's second in command: her shocking violence comes through in her word choice too; words that supposedly don't belong in Heaven.

In what’s arguably the funniest line in the whole show, Lucifer undermines his dramatic standoff with Adam by going, “You mess with my daughter and now I’m going to fuck you.” Beyond just cutting the tension, that fits his bumbling, oblivious personality perfectly. Lucifer is crazy powerful and can absolutely wreck Adam. He also has none of the classy intimidation that, say, Alastor displays when he tries to convey that. This is a depressed himbo who makes ducks in his free time and settles on, “Hey, bitch!” when greeting his estranged daughter. Of course he’s going to accidentally turn a threat into a promise of sex.

Which finally brings me to Alastor, someone whose cursing is already understood well by the fandom. He’s characterized as manipulatively courteous, using manners to both hide his true nature and draw attention to his power—’You’re so beneath me I’ll just calmly sip my coffee and politely ask who you are, despite the fact that we've fought multiple times.’ This is a guy who calls people “My dear” and unironically insults them with the phrase “wacky nonsense.” So when he curses you can BET it’s gonna have an impact. It sure did for me. I had to pause the episode after Alastor’s first “Fuck you” because it was so shocking to hear that language from him. And that’s the point! The scene wants that reaction from the audience. The "Fuck you"s visceral anger contrasting the fake laughs he and Lucifer have been giving, the quick-fire exchange that’s suddenly cut short by Alastor’s choice of a direct insult, the fact that he’s officially dropping the polite veneer they’ve both been indulging in and raising the stakes before Charlie intervenes, the loss of the radio filter that otherwise demonstrates his control over a situation... all of it screams, ‘THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER MOMENT.’

"Fuck you” reveals that, for the first time in the show, Alastor is legitimately threatened by someone. Which makes sense given that, you know, Lucifer is the King of Hell. Cursing for Alastor isn’t normal, so when he does curse it’s going to reveal something about a guy who otherwise is obsessed with being unknowable. Having the King of Hell dismiss him is actually infuriating in a way Sir Pentious’ threats could never be and the exchange kicks off a rivalry that rattles Alastor in ways Vox’s never has. (Side note: is it any wonder people ship them? Character A making control freak Character B feel vulnerable is classic!) It’s no surprise to me than that the one other true curse we get from Alastor is, “I’m about to end your fucking life,” delivered to Adam who, like Lucifer, poses a legitimate threat and does end up beating him. I say “true” curse because calling Susan a “bitch” does similar work for him, but the takeaway is humorous rather than dramatic. It’s funny that the only people who can piss Alastor off enough to curse are the First Man/a powerful exorcist angel threatening his life, the literal King of Hell... and Susan.

So there’s a lot going on here, more than what many viewers might assume if they approach the show as just “stupid,” needlessly vulgar entertainment. As shown above, I don’t think the cursing is needless, especially given that, well... they’re in Hell. They’re sinners, supposedly the worst that humanity has to offer, so of course they're going to curse a lot. Does cursing mean you’re a bad person? No. Can you craft a hellish world that doesn't rely on cursing to convey a group's immoral nature? Sure.

Does it make sense that a writer would equate a sinful, irreverent cast with linguistic rebellion and would want to convey a certain vibe that, frankly, you just can’t get without dropping an F bomb?

Yeah, I think so. No one has to like that kind of creative decision, but it’s worth acknowledging it as a deliberate choice.

That’s all! Thanks for reading this fucking long post ✌️

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel meta #mymetas #tw cursing #cw cursing #tw abuse #cw abuse

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matchboxartist · 6 months

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[SPOILERS FOR LIGHT NOVELS] i don't think Kunikida was ever okay

so i was rereading the light novels and... yeah i don't think Kunikida's okay. bear in mind that these were either set before the start of the anime or were set before the end of season 1, so things such as walking alone, cannibalism arc and decay of angels arc had NOT happened yet (stressing this point as much as possible). i've also included roughly when in the BSD timeline the light novels were set and which pages i found the information on.

LN1 (s1e6 and s1e7 - azure messenger arc)

is absolutely terrified of the dark - i'm specifying the dark here instead of ghosts, which he specifically mentions in the anime, because he says he doesn't believe in them. but all the same, he's definitely not (keep telling yourself that, honey) shaking and crying (pages 24 and 25)

even at age twenty is willing to let himself die to save the other hostages - it says in the light novel that he is in fact suffering the effects of the poison gas, and still tries to save them despite Dazai and Sasaki stopping him (page 29)

made sure he still wouldn't have been able to kill Dazai - despite holding Fukuzawa's orders in high regard they would go against his ideals, which is why he never brought the real gun with him (pages 76-78)

the entire ending, pretty much - he had to watch both Sasaki, who he cared about, and Rokuzou, who he raised like his own son, die. he couldn't understand that there was no other way to do things, but since we don't know how his ideal came to be (seriously, Asagiri? nothing at all besides a couple vague suggestions?) we can't exactly push this point much (pages 95-101)

LN3 (set between s1e1 and s1e2 - where the Agency are planning Atsushi's entrance exam)

has what can only be described as a panic attack at the mention of a bomb threat (pages 4 and 5)

starts describing increasingly dark and oddly specific methods of torture to use on Dazai, whilst panicking and trying to attack something that isn't there (pages 16 and 17)

Kunikida and Katai's Brilliant Days (set around s1e6 - first part of azure messenger arc, but by this point Kunikida had not watched Sasaki and Rokuzou die)

sounds terrified at the thought of being called useless (page 5)

anyway that's all i got for now, will update if i think of anything else

#bsd #bsd kunikida #kunikida analysis #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #kunikida doppo

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nxathyx · 1 year

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nicknames

Pet names I think bungo stray dogs characters would use for their s/o

Armed Detective Agency

Atsushi Nakajima

°I feel like he'd usually just call you by your name or a nickname

°like if your name is Natalie or Nathaniel definitely would call you Nat or Nath (this is just an example)

°also something simple like "Angel"

°he says you're like a guardian angel and keep him stable

Dazai Osamu

°probably belladona or shorter versions of that like Bella or Dona

°would definitely call you cringe pet names just to laugh about it with you like "hey pookie bear😍😍" (I hate myself)

°maybe an occasional darl or baby

°I feel like he'd call you doll as well (he stole it from Chuuya)

°pretty girl/boy I don't know why

°I don't know I feel like he uses pet names as satire and prefers using your actual name or your nickname

Kunikida Doppo

°this man does not use pet names, like I can't imagine him saying anything

°maybe dear, I don't know what else though

Ranpo Edogawa

°I also don't think he's into pet names

°I don't know like he'd be too lazy to make something up for you

°also just sticks to your name/nickname/Diminutive

°the same as Atsushi except he'd also use "Nathy" (just a random name example)

Tanizaki Junichirou

°BRO HE GIVES ME DISCORD KITTEN VIBES AND I DON'T KNOW WHY...

° "hey kitten😻😻, get on bed wars you're making Daddy angy👿👿

°also uses your name the most probably

°an occasional "lovely"

Yosano Akiko

°probably "love" or a simple "hun"

°either that or your name/nickname

°probably randomly comes up and is like "hey gorgeous/handsome"

Edgar Allan Poe

(putting him here cause I don't know over half of the guild and won't write for them he's also basically an agency member at this point)

°probably darling, dear, sweetheart

°idk he just gives of the vibe

°but I think he'd also prefer just your regular name

Port Mafia

Chuuya Nakahara

°darling

°dear

°baby

°doll

°I don't know why but he'd use Spanish nicknames, like mi amor, mi vida, cariño, mi cielo, mi corazón

°maybe princess/prince

°pretty boy/pretty girl (especially if you're trans and have really bad dysphoria)

°also really like using your name, just plain and simple

°lovely

°my love

°maybe dove

°wifey/hubby

°definetly called you a bitch before

Akutagawa Ryuunoske

°he thinks it's cringe

°once he called you dear and amor (he learnt it from Chuuya)

°just sticks to your full name

Tachihara Michizo

°he gives me "babe" or "bae" vibes and I don't like it 😭

°definetly a "sweetheart" guy

°probably princess/prince as well

Gin Akutagawa

°probably "sweetie"

°other than that I doubt they'd use anything

Higuchi Ichigo

°honey

°your name

°darling

°honey

Koyou Ozaki

°darling/darl

°dear

°honey

°sweetie

*sweetheart

Decay of Angels

Fyodor Dostoyevski

°malyshka

°dear

°doll

°my only one

°he uses those very rarely though and prefers to use your name

Nikolai Gogol

°he calls you something silly

°"hey my gorgeous tampon wrapper"

°like huh😧😧

°uses dove as well

°my free space in bingo 😻😻

°I don't fucking know Bro😭😭

°he probably called you his discord kitten once as a joke In front of Fyodor and Sigma (they're scarred now)

°also the same as ranpo just your name/nickname/Diminutive (prefers nicknames and diminutives)

Sigma

°my love

°darling

°angel

°sweetheart

°just your full name as well

°definetly called you a saint before

Bram Stoker

°I don't think he'd use nicknames

°I don't know Bro is a vampire

°my little vamp vamp🤭🤭

Hunting Dogs

Tetchou Suehiro

°angel

°dear

°sweetie

°he'd definitely call you hubby/wifey

Jouno Saigiku

°bastard

°idiot

°dumbass

°(how romantic)

°I think he'd rather just use your name honestly aquífy

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d3sserts0ul · 2 months

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Have a little request :33. The DOA with a member who’s afraid of blood, I feel like it’d be interesting

Sure! Right below~ ( Little warning though, they might be a bit out of character..)

“ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘭oo𝘥𝘺．𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶? ”

𝘋𝘰𝘈 [ 𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘴 ] 𝘟 𝘎𝘕！𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥．

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ；𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴，𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶／𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳，𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧．

𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘔𝘚 ；𝘏𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢 － 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥.

Дорогой — Darling (Russian).

－ 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘮𝘢

• When you two went on a mission together, he was pretty confused and concerned on the fact that everytime he shot someone and blood splattered on you or him or anywhere for that matter, you started to freak out.

• Of course, he managed to calm you down. But that didn’t explain why you panicked or what even caused you to feel that way. Was it the gun or the sound of the gun? Maybe it was you seeing a corpse? All of these questions echoed in his head, and he wanted (needed) them to be answered so he could help avoid the issue in the future. So he decides that this will be talked about as soon as you get home, and he WILL be focused on that topic whole day because he’s worried something might be wrong with you, and you’re too precious to lose.

• Once you tell him that you have hemophobia, and get bothered when you see blood, everything started to click. Even this didn’t seem like a big deal to you, it became one to him. After all, he wants you to enjoy yourself, even during missions.

• Sigma understood that blood can traumatize people and cause them to have a negative reaction to it and he was fine with it, but what worried him was that since you are a member of the Decay of Angels, the job can have a lot of bloody work and preventing you from being upset from the sight/thought of blood could or would be inevitable.

• To carry out with his plan, he does some extra research on the phobia particularly just so he can clearly understand it, as well as using his ability by touching you to find out if you have any more phobias. ( in case he hasn’t already use his ability on you. )

• Sigma tries to come up with something to help you do your job without any problems, ranging from him doing the bloody work and having you look away, or maybe you can work behind the scenes rather than being on foot and having to deal with killing people or watching people get killed. He even talks with Fyodor and Nikolai in which Fyo responds brutally, calling you unworthy of being a DoA member. On the other hand, Nikolai wants to try to help you on feeling comfortable. But since Nikolai is Nikolai, it’s a good chance he’ll also call you make fun of you and weak for being afraid of blood.

• Absolute sweetheart and supportive unlike the others in the group, even fascinated that hemophobia is even a type of phobia. If you want to tell Sigma why you have that phobia, he’ll listen closely and comfort you if you happen to cry while explaining the reason. Overall, Sigma deals with you very nicely with someone who has hemophobia.

Sigma leans against a wall, breathing heavily after fleeing a bloody scene from earlier. You didn’t know what had happened back there, but you did hear some screams and gunshots. Who would’ve thought that Sigma was deadly and cute. “ I hate missions like this. I'd rather be up working on the sky casino than this. ” He mumbles under his breath. You felt shakened up from before and he could tell, telling from your legs shivering. “ Is everything okay? I hope nothing scared you. ” A worried tone says to you. “ I’m fine. I didn’t see any blood or something but I’m just… shaken up from that. ” You replied.

“ Understood, I hope the method we chose eased your trigger. If you need anything, I’m at your call. ” Sigma fixed his posture and walked up to you, putting your hands in his. His eyes showed gentleness and warmth.

“ I talked with the other members, and they will try to fix a position for you to not be around blood. ”

－ 𝘍𝘺𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳

• Fyodor probably either knew you had a phobia of blood, or just didn’t at all. Safe to say, he took the information and used it to his advantage.

• He listened to you explaining your hatred or fear for blood, beginning to laugh halfway through the explanation. You were confused on what was so funny, until he told you that you were weak as hell for that and you aren’t really worthy of being a Decay of angels member.

• Don’t get him wrong, he thinks you’re stronger than an average human/ability user. But blood? Yeah no, you’re going to see that anytime you go on a mission with him— And you always accompany him on missions, whether you like it or not.

• Thinks you need some training in learning how to deal with blood. This training is harsh, usually having you watch him take out a target with his ability, then ordering you to stay there and endure the sight of blood. His eyes watch your every move and expression as you begin to panic.

• Fyodor threatens to force you to watch him kill someone if you get out of line. As long as you follow his every order and not be a brat, you won’t have to go through anymore psychological trauma.

• But there are times where you bawl your eyes out from the sight of blood, and sometimes (rarely) Fyodor offers you to sit on his lap and calm down once you both are at home. Stroking a hand up and down your back, it’s a sugarcoated action and his voice an be sweet like honey. But since Fyodor is… what he is, this is to only make you come back for more and become obedient to him.

• If he unfortunately happens to be in a bad mood, and you also happen to be triggered, he won’t beat you psychically but will hurt you with his words, going on and on about how pathetic you look crying about something humans have daily and that some people have it worse.

• Though he ‘apologizes’ through touches right after though and will gaslight you. Saying that he didn’t mean it and that you’re such a snowflake.

• If it makes you feel any better though, Fyodor finally decided that your phobia is permanent and irreversible. Therefore he will no longer let you go to missions and might just have you stay home since you’re supposed to be a housewife/husband for him anyways. You’ll usually have Ivan watch you, and if you happen to accidentally see blood, he is quick to distract you and cover your eyes.

You sat in front of him, teared up and sobbing.“ Stop crying Дорогой, it was just a small injury. ” Fyodor spoke up with a smug look on his face, wrapping his hand in bandages. You were in a vulnerable state and he admired how you trusted him during a time like this, so he suppose he could help his precious angel. You try to stop the tears from forming and fall down your flushed cheeks and was successful. Once you calmed down, Fyodor sighed softly in a bit of irritation. “ I came up with a solution with your illness— ”

“ It isn’t an illness, Fyo. ” You corrected him. He obviously didn’t like that, and it was evident on his face. “ Don’t speak unless I tell you to. You know what happens when you’re a brat, yes? ” He warned. You cross your arms as a response. “ As I was saying. I came up with a solution. You will be staying with Ivan now and any mission there is where it doesn’t involve death, you will do. Understand? ” Fyodor asks. You nod.

“ I still don’t understand why a little bit of blood can invoke fear in one. You really are an odd one. ”

－ 𝘕𝘪𝘬𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘪

• When you first told Nikolai, he just asked an overwhelming amount of questions about it.

• Honestly really intrigued and proceeded to tell some phobias of his own. Even if this thing was about you only.

• He kinda wants to help but also wants to prank the hell out of you with it, which he usually does.

• Sometimes Nikolai would say that the mission you two are going on is a rather tame one, involving no blood. But once you two go on the mission and end up have some ‘ company ’, he smirks and asks “ things are going to get a bit bloody, you’re fine with that right? ”

• Not funny, didn’t laugh and he could tell you didn’t find that funny. Always apologizes if he does that even if he did it unintentionally.

• Comforts you if you just so happen to freak out or get sick when seeing blood. Loves seeing your pretty tears, even if your upset, sometimes it makes him want to reward you.

• tries to talk to fyodor to make you not go on too dangerous missions, because he thinks that if you fight with some thugs or whatever, you’ll see blood from a injury or corpse and freeze up, causing you to be killed by who ever you’re fighting. And since Fyodor and Nikolai are… friends… then Fyodor tell him to do whatever he thinks fit.

“ Oh how sensitive you are, doll. It’s adorable to me. ” Nikolai smirks as you cling on to him, a person Nikolai just killed laying in a puddle of their own blood. You didn’t feel too good seeing this and he could tell, therefore cupping your cheeks and having you look at him. “ Come on now, it’s just a corpse, breathe. ” Nikolai chuckled, before placing a kiss on your lips. That seemed to have calmed you down and he did it again, and again and once more.

“ You are just so desperate for my kisses, aren’t you? ”

I love how sigma is the only normal one out of the bunch…😭

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rae-pss · 7 months

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Hello again rae! So I just saw that you read my ask about my think in chap 5 in whb. And I am so happy we have thing in common so here I give you some another imagine of whb self aware idea for you. Since I think about it long enough and want to share it with you. ( Just take you time to have a idea to writing about this content , I will be waiting 😄 ).

Just imagine that we ( the reader ) found out a way to control the mc in a short or long moment or talk through the mc body.

- Everytime sitri call the mc (Ra-on) solomon ( own sexy pewpaw , I can't lie the fact that he so beautiful , no wonder god like him ). the reader will be like ' I will find a way to control the mc to make them ignore him or make him cry on his knee to apologize and call out the MC's name correctly '.

- everytime the seraphim attack the hell or even talk nonsense about kill the mc or enything about god the reader will be like ' no wonder why god leave you all , because you all are so annoying and dumb '.

- ( Like I say in another ask about bully leviathan ) in his H-scent , the moment he talk shit about minhyeok and say human are weak then the reader like ' fuck this , I will teach you lesson ' control the Mc body and then dominant him back like choke him by the whip he give them and then choke him hard until he almost faint then I will stop. And no is not done yet. Is the mc not dominant the hell out of him then the reader will do it , until he beg for more and I will stop and get out of there leave him like that as a pay back. ( cockblock him make him so close to cum and then leave him like that ).

And that all what I want to say. And feel free to use my imagine is one of it make you have a idea to write , I even happy is you do ☺️😄🤔

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . shout out to the inspiration i suddenly got to do sitri and levi' parts. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 944 words, first it's sitri, then gabriel, and lastly leaviathan. mentions of the word cock and choking (character receiving) in levi's part since it has a little smut (?).

how you achieved that was something that not even you could understand. was there even a way to do it? well, the existential questions could wait for another time, now you had to take advantage of every damn second that fate had given you.

you couldn't waste this opportunity to talk to your beloved characters.

the walk seemed very normal for the blue-stranded demon, one more of the many that sitri had taken with his beloved solomon since his recent return. how much he missed those moments of quiet peace when it was just him, solomon, and their precious heartbeat.

—how are you feeling, sol-?

the demon didn't even have time before one hand grabbed the black cravat (handkerchief) of his shirt and then pulled with force, thus making his eyes come face to face with solomon's. and, once again gaining on him in time, they spoke loud and clear.

—call me by that dead man's name one more time and you'll end up crying on a street corner, ignored by me until the day I decide to forgive your sorry ass.

their eyes seemed to shine with a unique intensity. it was certainly similar to how satan's eyes did when someone alluded to his lack of height; however, something about them appeared different. it wasn't the usual way their irises looked, now they felt more… more alive.

regardless, a few seconds later their hand left his garment as quickly as they had first grabbed it. their expression showed some stupor, but sitri decided to disregard it for the moment. maybe the influence of his king was harming his beloved sol- his beloved ra-on.

no one could say exactly how many times they had already met, nor was it so crucial to know the number. not when, once again, the Seraph was flying over a devastated and decaying gehenna, looking down from the sky at the destruction he and his angels had brought to the kingdom of wrath.

despite the initial pleasure that such sights brought him, his smile was erased from his pale face when his eyes fell on the figure of a certain human.

"that damn descendant of that dead man..."

with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw already clenched, gabriel pointed the blade of his scythe at them.

—how annoying it's... you foolish human being still alive.

and, as usually happened in each of his meetings, not very pleasant ones to whoever had to listen to the white-haired angel, he began to talk and talk about his love for god, about how everyone who wasn’t in heaven were beings unworthy of being alive, of how god will return, of how he should kill them in an instant... in general, he began his long monologue with himself out loud.

—no wonder why god left you all, i mean, you’re so annoying.

that was as if a drop of water had fallen on his head. some words that he never expected to hear from that human's lips. a simple phrase that awakened every desire to end their pathetic existence once and for all.

—you, insolent child!

he could say little more when, as usually happened, the demons made an appearance and the battle started once more.

the day he had them in his hands... that day gabriel would make them pay for having dared to say such things, about him and his dear god.

this was new. it was the first time in his long existence as king that someone had left him in such a miserable state without even hesitating twice. so renewed was it that, even there leviathan was still lying on the ground with his right hand on his neck, caressing the irritated skin, and his cock standing proud waiting for any release.

not long ago he was with that descendant of solomon, that peculiar human, helping them with the dose of demonic essence they so much needed to stay alive down there. although, he thought he’d give it to them in his way.

what he never expected from such an excuse of a being was that they’d use his tactics against him so naturally.

it was the exact moment in which their gaze became more intense, their fist tightened the handle of the whip and, with a sigh escaping past their lips, they took a few assertive steps forward until, without even thinking about it, they wrapped the rope around his neck. and tightened the material.

seconds were what leviathan needed to notice how the air disappeared agonizingly from his lungs, how the little oxygen in him vanished after the oppression of the whip around his neck.

—don't think you can go around saying those things like it's nothing.

the human commented fiercely, letting themselves sit comfortably on his lap without any problem. the force they used on the object increased and decreased depending on how blue they noticed his face. yet, some other color also dared to be seen on his cheeks.

—this excites you, doesn't it?

they spat hatefully, squeezing the ends of the whip harder, they let the demon beneath their body writhe in a mixture of the most lascivious of pleasures and the most tortuous of agonies. all of this would have been better if they hadn't noticed his hardened member twitching underneath their crotch.

—pathetic that you get so eager when being choked... as pathetic as only you could be.

from there, everything became a blurry memory for him. a memory blinded by the balance of passion and pain that ended once they had their fair fun with him. to then, leave him there on the floor like the waste they remarked him he was.

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sakkiichi · 1 year

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hello!! i saw that ur requests is open :D may i request gn! reader with blade? maybe a mixture of angst and hurt with comfort where the reader feels insecure of themselves bc they heard ppl whispering abt how the reader is not suitable to be blade’s s/o, things like that

would like to ask for a happy ending bc of my sensitive heart whehdhd

take ur time writing this! feel free to delete it if u dont have the motivation/ideas <3 have a nice day 🫶🫶

DON’T LET ME LET THE DARK TAKE OVER.

Hey, nonnie ! thank you for requesting, you’re actually my first request on here <3 I hope you like it and that this is what you wanted ! I’m sorry it took a while, I hope you still enjoy, dear.

Blade x gn! reader.

genre/cw: angst to comfort and fluff, mentions of insecurity.

word count: 800 words.

You’re starting to believe they are right.

The rumors, the side glances, the occasional snickers.

Maybe it wouldn’t bother you so much if the reason was another, but your heart was always on your sleeve when it came to him.

His swordsmanship skills were certainly the talk of town, and you knew well you can’t be liked by everyone, so the prospect of rumors arising when you and him got close was not far fetched.

And yet, your heart sinks every time wicked whispers make it to your ears.

You aren’t sure if you’ve started going crazy.

On the street, at the grocery store, at work… you can feel eyes boring into you whenever you go outside.

So you reach the conclusion it’s safer to stay home.

At least that way you don’t need to hear rumors added to the insecurities already spiraling in dark swirls inside your mind.

Your bed is more comfortable, anyway, yes, you’ll just call in sick tomorrow at work, it’s not like anyone will care.

Turning around in bed, you tuck the covers closer around you. You wish your lover was by your side right now.

‘And you think you deserve him?’ A cruel voice whispers at the back of your mind.

Your lids flutter closed; if you stay really still, maybe, just maybe, the whole world will forget about you.

“[Y/n], I’m home.”

Damn, maybe not everyone will forget about you.

Still, you don’t get out from your cocoon when you hear his footsteps; nor do you run to hug him as you used to, even when his soft yet slightly raspy voice reaches you, more desperate by the minute.

Then, light in rusty hues floods into the bedroom, relief palpable in your partner’s tone when he sighs:

“Good. You’re here.”

However, the stellaron hunter’s happiness is short lived.

You look… dimmed.

To Blade, you were the ever-light that rose in the zenith of his black hole infinities. Right now, however, all he can see when his eyes of bleeding rubies catch sight of you is colorless fog, dull gray over the rainbow speckled meadows you usually smiled in. A broken solstice of decaying ashen flowers.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n]!” Your boyfriend steps closer to your unreactive body. “Hey, I’m here, it’s going to be okay.” He carefully pulls the covers away from you.

Fallen moonbeams stain your cheeks, salty with bitterness and hurt.

“Ren…” You mutter, still not facing him. Your body trembles, you look so frail right now. “Why are you here?” You choke out, voice low, the broken crackling of lightning in the distance.

“I’ll always be here.” Blade tells you, softly, running a hand through your hair, turning you around to face him.

“But why?” You put your palms against his chest, over the steady heartbeat that used to lull you to sleep. “You could do so much better, Ren. Why stay?” Your teary eyes still won’t look at him.

“No.” Your lover states, sharp, the edge of metal cutting through heavy star-obscuring clouds. “It doesn’t get better than you, angel.” He says, chapped lips tender against your hair.

“But it does, Blade…” Your voice breaks, parted clouds weeping for you. “I hear them, everyone agrees that I’m not good enough for you!”

“Who is spouting such nonsense?” Your stellaron hunter asks, his tone taking on a dangerous lilt.

“Everyone! When I go shopping, the neighbors, even sometimes when I leave work… I-I’ve even gotten some passive-aggressive comments on whether we’re still together or not…”

His hold on you tightens, strong arms hugging you closer to him.

The fact that someone else has made you feel like this makes Blade’s blood boil. If it wasn’t because you would certainly try to stop him, he’d be ready to torn to pieces anyone who ever made you think you’re less than enough.

The stellaron hunter’s strength was never in his speech, so, as liquid moonlight trickles down your cheeks, he keeps you from breaking.

His once ensnaring grip was always devoid of thorns when it came to you, only deep crimson blooms flourishing in his wake.

“They’re wrong.” Are the venom laced seeds fallen from the vermillion petals that surround you. “You’re perfect for me, no matter what. You’re perfect, I won’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.” Each statement is punctuated by his arms squeezing you softly, so delicate in contrast to his icy tone, like the first fall of snow dusting over a rose garden.

And maybe it’s because you’re too tired, or perhaps because Blade’s caress is akin to watching the stars rise in a poppy field, but you don’t try to retort.

The moon is high when your lids flutter closed, your lover’s heartbeat a comforting lullaby.

In your dreams, you and him imprint angels in the snow.

In the real world, Blade kisses your temple, his arms secure around you.

The new dawn looks bright in the distance.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #blade x reader #blade x y/n #blade x you #hsr blade x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail oneshots #honkai star rail scenarios #blade imagines #hsr blade #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #blade fluff #blade x reader fluff

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inkskinned · 2 years

Text

glory be to the topsoil. to the worms. to the private church of mushrooms. what makes for a better angel than the quiet promise of decomposition - that thankless, endless task. returning to the earth: this is a final prayer.

you said to me - we understand so much of history through the lens of how each society handled death. i have been thinking about the funeral industry. about embalming. how the devil is supposed to be almost-human, charming. i was raised on teflon pans. the poison in my blood came from good intentions; sprinkled over pancakes and scrambled eggs. will those particles go, too, when i go?

i keep thinking about how many cultures personify death as being gentle. as being a friend. as being kind-of-beautiful. an outstretched hand. oh, we scowl so much at carrion birds; but they make their nests by the worship of a carcass. something about that feels beautiful to me.

i am often scared. i understand why some people seek immortality, even if it's not something i desire. i spend a lot of time worrying about coffins. i spend a lot of time thinking about how if they dug me up, my bones would tell very little about my soft spots. so many of my friends say - i just want to be a tree. i want to find a quiet space and go home. the other day, we got the bill from the funeral home, and i just stood there, staring. this is death?

you said: it's learning backwards. from how a society approaches death, we might learn how they celebrate life. i worry about what that means, sometimes. about what others will think about us. divorced from our contexts, maybe alien archivists will have a fondness for our tendency to call death sleep. maybe they will write essays titled towards the light: an analysis on how some sects of humanity worshipped solely facing east.

oh, there's so much about my life that won't survive. especially these days. there's so little that lasts in-the-same-shape. oh, if the universe is kind - i want them to know that we loved moss. that we loved lichen. that even decay could be beautiful for us; the little warm space of mulch. how i will go home, one day, in the body of a bird. in a worm. in a leaf.

how when we lay a body in the ground, we say: be at peace.

oh, to go to sleep so gracefully. when i go i want to leave no mark. i want the dirt to take me. // r.i.d & a.b

#spilled ink #@cryptidfucky #this is probably the right time after 10 years of being on this site #to tell u all that i have 5 names actually #bc im hispanic #and i COULD have used my other initials #which would have been RIP #and the fact i didn't is like. i mean like . where's my award #edit in the tags: i don't know anything about anything. ask alex #i collaborated with them here meaning #alex said a bunch of cool shit and i just stood there like :o

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cm-lily · 5 months

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I read a fanfic once, I forgot which one. But in that fic, they have this idea where Gem and Grian's base has this... Foggy vibe to it. Like compare it to the cherry mountain that's all pink and petals and then you have these two bases which are straight up The Horrors™

I Just love that idea

So much I've been thinking, what if the whole Magic Mountain is surrounded by fog? A magic fog and mist that just always surround the area and got thicker as the sun set further. The area always seems cloudy. As if there is an eternal cloud forever covering the mountains. It's either raining, or storm, or cloudy. The only time it's clear is when Grian finally got his mending book, the pink snail arrive, and it switch to storm when Scar got the mending book. (He got struck by lightning a few time if he reaches that area)

Joel's base not only has lantern illuminating it, but souls as well. They didn't stay idle, but never went too far. Some of them even transform, Into tanuki or fox or wolves and even Koi fish and Axolotl. That fly in the air instead of water, obviously.

Sometimes there's things passing by on Impulse's build. Something tall and slender, with long limbs and sharp claws. They're not Enderman, Enderman don't crawl. Impulse said they're cool if you pretend they didn't exist and just let them... Lurks around.

Something is wrong with Mumbo's base. I want to call it decaying, but it's not. It's more like redstone veins appear around the blackened grass, the air smells like gunpowder and something acid. Or maybe copper.

Many hermits had reported seeing the sight of a statue angel that just appear on top of Skizz's unfinished Pyramid. It appear when they're looking at it, but then they look around and it's gone. The statue has never been in the same position everytime someone look at it.

Most people don't like going to Scar's base at night, not only because of how creepy it look like surrounded by those fog. Like the rest of them, something strange always happens. Like animals looking bigger and more beast-like the moment night arrive, ever seen a cow just grows multiple horns and it sounds like those horn are breaking out of it's skull? Or that one time, one time his horse stand up on two feet? Probably not. Scar said they're harmless. Except for the snail—he said. The snail isn't his. That's why they damaged his build and become a nuisance.

(There was once a time, a time where clouds whirled around his ore pillar, clouds that are made of limbs and hand and eyes and it just stretched and climb down from the pillar. It never reach the ground, fortunately.)

Grian never stopped fishing. Even if it rains or stormed outside. He's smelly and that's why snails like him and his horse don't. Totally not because Pluto saw him turn into giant mer-man with many eyes and tails and sharp tooth. Definitely not. Don't feel weird when you feel like you're being watched. Or because shadow-like silhouette wander around his wheat farm, or a silhouette of something massive that was illuminated everytime lightning strikes, looking down from the cherry mountain toward his and Gem's base and, occasionally, you felt like you found a body you recognize in the water—

And that's where Gem comes in! Gem is someone who stopped you before you decide to jump in the water and check who's that corpse is. And the one who shooed off the many eyes that lurk in the muddy river side of Grian's base. Grian hates her for that but there's nothing he can do. Gem, like Grian, is someone who can walk in the middle of the storm unharmed. Most of the time, she make sure that none of the hermits fell into the trick of her other neighbors.

just don't let that distract you from the fact one of her build is actually sentient and breathing and is always staring at you. Or the fact there's blood around the rocky shores if you squint into the dark river/soon-to-be-ocean. Or the fact that, just like the angler, the skull always felt like it's watching even if there's no actually eyes in it's socket. Gem is always present when you want to have a tour or just so happened to passed that area, but... If she's not there to guide you, would it even be worth it to be stabbed with a trident and got dragged into the water?

#cm think #hc s10 #the magic mountain #grian #geminitay #joel smallishbeans #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #skizzleman #Let's add some Horrors to these silly minecrafter tehe #Yes I've been watching too much TMA/TMP and my yt shorts is filled with Doctor Who clip

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aerynwrites · 10 months

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Send Me an Angel - Chapter 1

Halsin x Fem!Angel!Reader

A/N: So so so excited to reveal this little series to you guys! Had this idea and with some wonderful brainstorming help from @thedreamlessnights it is finally coming together! Hope you all enjoy <3

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Reader is described using she/her pronouns in this part, female reader, canon typical gore/injuries, hurt/comfort.

Halsin's POV

The night, as all of them have been since arriving here, is cold.

The Shadow-Cursed Lands are just as he remembers them, if not worse. And, despite having saved Thaniel and reunited him with Oliver, his mind still feels heavy with the burden of this place.

That’s why he stands here now, at the edge of the protective barrier of Last Light, eyes turned up towards the stars. Here, they are the only things of nature that are not corrupted by the shadows, and perhaps in these times of need, Halsin is silently seeking guidance from the celestial beings.

He’s been outside for some time, lost in his own thoughts, and is just about to turn back towards the inn when a faint, flashing light in the sky gives him pause.

It looks like a star, at first, shining brighter in the blanket of night, winking at him as he gazes upwards. But as he continues to watch, Halsin realizes that the star is moving - and it’s moving faster as each moment passes. It seems to tumble from the heavens, leaving a trail of starlight in its wake as it travels westward, towards the mountain pass.

Without much thought, Halsin’s feet carry him in the direction of the falling star, stopping only to grab a torch as he leaves the inn’s protection to head further into the Shadowlands. He tries his best to follow the star, but as it hurtles across the sky and gets closer and closer to the towering trees, he starts to lose sight of it. The only evidence that it makes it to earth are the sudden tremors beneath his feet.

The star has landed.

Halsin’s heart races in his chest as he travels toward the last place he’d seen it. And for reasons he can’t describe, he can feel something calling to him. A power like he’s never felt before seems to reach out and wrap around him as it pulls him through the decaying landscape.

Rocks crunch beneath his feet, dead tree branches rustle, and the only other sound he can hear is his own breathing and the blood rushing in his ears. These lands have always given him a sense of unease - a feeling that seems tenfold now as he wanders them alone.

He walks for much longer than he’d anticipated, and he’s worried for a moment that he has somehow passed by the impact site when an otherworldly glow starts to break through the trees as he crests a small hill. He follows the light, and the feeling tugs at his chest until he reaches the top, his eyes widening as his breath stutters in his chest.

The crater in the ground is larger than he expected and the sight before him is like nothing he’s ever seen. Dust floats in the air around the site, still unsettled from its misplacement among the earth. An acrid, burnt tang makes Halsin’s nose tingle unpleasantly, the smell settling on his tongue.

But it’s not these things that bring Halsin pause. No. What makes the old druid stop is what sits in the crater itself–for it is not simply a star he witnessed fall from the sky, but an angel.

He can see their form, illuminated by the ethereal pale white light they seem to give off, and as he walks closer, torch held high to warn off any shadows who may dare to venture close, he realizes that they are actually a she.

He’s struck first by her beauty.

It’s nothing as extravagant as he remembers from the tales of fallen angels as a child, where those who looked upon them would be blinded by the otherworldly allure. This angel is in fact beautiful, but in a more natural way. Still striking to Halsin, but perhaps appearing more subdued to others.

It’s only when he’s at the edge of the crater does Halsin’s mind finally shift from surprise, to utter concern. The acrid smell he first noticed must have come from the way the angel burned as she fell from the sky. He can see now that the great white wings extending from her back are heavily injured, the white feathers majority singed gray and black, and some even falling away from her wings completely. One of the appendages even seems to be bent at an odd angle - broken, if Halsin had to guess from this distance.

Her person is in much the same condition. Her pearl-white dress is torn, ragged, and stained a dingy gray. Blackened smudges cover most of the skin he is able to see - soot, dirt, and what he assumes must be blood, if the various injuries have anything to say. For a moment, Halsin fears she may not have survived the fall. But as he inches closer, kneeling by her side, he is able to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. This closeness also reveals another problem. Her breathing is erratic, and each breath comes out with a faint wheeze, as if something is flooding her lungs.

Before Halsin can truly think, he is already acting. He plants the torch in the ground beside him, moving to gather the angel in his arms. First, he softly tucks the being’s wings behind her back, careful not to jostle the broken one more than needed. Then, when he is confident that he can gather her into his arms, he does just that. He worries she may wake as he moves her, the pain stirring her from her unconscious state, but she stays under, not so much as twitching as Halsin stands with her gathered to his chest.

For a moment, as he fully remembers his surroundings, an icy fear clings to him. How will he traverse the curse with no hand to hold a light source? But when he steps from the crater, he is surprised to find that the pale white glow is emitting from the angel herself. As if protected by pure moonlight.

Haslin hasn’t been sure of much as of late, but he knows deep within his being, that he must save her.

No matter what it takes.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The walk to camp is uneventful, but Halsin’s arrival with a woman in his arms, is not.

He hears Astarion scoff before he sees the vampire, the sound echoing across camp.

“Another one?” Astarion sighs. “I mean, really? The camp is crowded enough already.”

Halsin, usually one slow to anger or frustration, pulls the angel closer to him as he bites back. “I will not stand by when another creature requires my help, even if you might, Astarion.”

He doesn’t stay around to listen to the man’s reply, but thinks he hears Astarion mutter something about a bear and claws.

Halsin makes for his tent, and the only other person to inquire about the being in his arms is Tav. They are kind enough to only ask if he needs anything rather than prying, which Halsin appreciates but declines nonetheless.

He can’t help the sudden possessiveness that overcomes him, as if this angel is his to protect and his alone. Only Thaniel is by his side when he enters his small, secluded part of camp, the small boy eyeing the creature curiously.

“An angel?” he asks as Halsin moves to set the woman gently on his bedroll just inside his tent.

Halsin nods. “I saw her fall from the sky myself,” he says, now fully taking in her injuries. “She has been gravely injured. I only hope I am able to help.”

Thaniel is quiet for a moment before he crouches beside the Druid and reaches out to run a soft hand along the angel’s wings, careful not to injure her further.

“She is here for a reason,” he says cryptically, eyes turning up towards Halsin. “You were meant to find her. I can feel it as clearly as if the forest itself is speaking to me.”

Halsin pauses his work to look at the child, always one to know more than he may appear.

He knows at a fundamental level that Thaniel’s words are true. Nature does not continue without due cause, it was fate that allowed him to find this angel.

What he can’t figure out…is why?

Halsin shakes his head, ridding himself of these thoughts for now as he sends the boy away. He can worry about fate and reasoning later. Right now, he must try to keep her alive.

Although he is powerful, he has only a limited supply of healing magic, a supply he chooses to use on her internal injuries, those he cannot fix without its aid.

He focuses his attention inward, drawing on the power he has as he hovers his hands over the angel’s ribs, that familiar yellow glow pulsing from his hands and into her body.

It takes longer than usual, telling Halsin her injuries must have been worse than he thought. But, after a few moments, her labored breathing eases, no longer a bubbling wheeze but a slow and smooth rhythm.

The last of his magic, he uses to heal her wing, wincing as it snaps back into place under his hands. Only then does the magic glow ebb away.

He reaches out to run tender hands along the main structure of her wings, checking for any other abnormalities. He’s just reached the tip of her newly-healed appendage when the woman jerks beneath him, her hand shooting up to grip his wrist with an unnatural strength.

The cry that falls from his lips is one of surprise more than pain, but he can’t help but be aware of the ache settling deep in his bones as they seem to grind together beneath her supernatural grip.

He glances down at her face, his lips falling open when he’s met with eyes glowing pure gold, complete power coming off the being in waves. She gasps in pain as she moves, and Halsin watches in complete and utter shock as the light slowly drains from her eyes, the strength in her grip waning as it does so. Only when the regular eyes of a human meet his own does the angel finally speak.

“Halsin…”

His name is but a whisper from her lips before her eyes roll back and she slumps unconscious onto his bedroll once more. For a moment, Halsin is worried that she has passed on, her form eerily still once again. But the steady rise and fall of her chest assures him she still lives.

Only when he is sure she still breathes does his mind jump back to what had just occurred.

How did she know his name?

#halsin x reader #halsin #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #bg3

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