#he looks very killable

[kuuwo]

Do u guys do this

[ruvviks]

– OC PICREW.

TAGGED BY: @aartyom, @morvaris & @reaperkiller, thank you so much!! TAGGING: @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @necro-hamster, @dirtyimbecile, @swordcoasts, @faarkas, @arklay, @steelport, @girlbosselrond, @liurnia, @devilbrakers, @cultistbase, @katsigian, @sandevistan, @brujah, @calenhads, @druidgroves, @strafethesesinners and YOU! – picrew

vincent mayer [he/him] // roksana dobrynina [she/her] vitali dobrynin [he/him] // cato wu [she/her] mikhail koshechkin [he/him] // lauren dimas [she/her]

[mangobubletea]

canon isn't real if i don't look at it *starts ugly crying*

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nikolai proposes to Price.

cw: mention of past and present homophobia in Russia and the UK.

The rotor blades hadn't even stopped spinning when Nik clambered out of his cab, his hand fumbling through his pocket in search of that velvet box. The gravel of the broken tarmac scratched under the soles of his boots, his knee grazing through his jeans as it hit the ground.

He'd almost lost John.

Two meters between his head and a steel beam falling from a nearby building as an IED had detonated.

As the smoke had cleared, Nikolai had heard and felt nothing. Like someone had reached through his ribs and pulled his heart and lungs out. John Price had always seemed invincible, unstoppable, like a force of nature. But in those few moments when Nik had believed he had been killed, the reminder of John's mortality had stunned him cold. John was not immortal, not a god or a hurricane, but a human man; vulnerable, killable, and Nik's entire world.

Nik had only started breathing again when his helo had swung round and the downdraft had whisked the cover of smoke and ash away to reveal the captain hunkered down, Ghost's arm thrown across his shoulders, Gaz and Soap guarding the rear.

The lieutenant had regained consciousness on the flight home, his concussion slurring his speech, his arm broken, but he was alive. They were exhausted, slumped against each other as the danger receded and Nik carried them to safety. Soap helped his lieutenant out now, supporting his weight as they staggered over the tarmac with Gaz following, his head low.

It was in the gap between Task Force 141 and their captain that Nik knelt, his shaking hand clutching the box against his knee as the adrenalin caught up on him, his words stuck. He had planned this. A dinner at the nice steakhouse John had seen in town, and then a walk through one of the big parks to the lake where they had spent many a night fishing. There, Nik would have asked. No audience, no public display, just them in the peace.

Their love was private. Not because it was shameful, but because it was theirs. It was a place John could tentatively explore the parts he had buried to survive, and Nik could be himself without apology. They could discard their defences and show each other the soft underbelly they guarded so fiercely from others. The vulnerability, the intimacy that came with it, belonged to them and only them; one of the very few things that did.

But what if he never got the chance? What if John had died today? What if John died tomorrow? Or the next day? What if, what if. There was no waiting for them because there might be no tomorrow. They had to live here, now.

Price dropped onto the tarmac, pushing his M4 behind his back as he looked down with a quizzical expression. "Nik?"

Nik drew in a shaking breath, his gaze lingering in the smear of black ash and crust edging a cut on Price's face. He'd lost his boonie hat in the scramble to rescue his officer, so his scruffy brown hair and beard formed a wild mane around his head, framing those blue eyes that were all the brighter as they shone from the sweat and grime on his skin. Nik started talking without thinking. "Lyobit tebya - eto kak dishat… s toboi bremya ostanablibaetsya e ya shivu lish mnovyeiyami pyadom toboi..."

"I can't speak it that well yet, ya muppet, and my brain was just shook inside my skull like a maraca," John said, his voice gravelly and dry. The corners of his eyes crinkled in wry amusement, and Nik's heart ached. He lifted the box, his thumb sliding beneath the lid, and watched John's expression fade from amusement to shock.

"Ty vyydesh’ za menya?" Nik clenched his teeth, irritated at himself, but before he could open his mouth and find the English, John's hand slid over his and he dropped to his knees.

"What is this, Nik?" John croaked, those beautiful blue eyes that so reminded Nik of a summer sky over Kiev glistened.

"A promise," Nik replied. "A... plea."

John leaned forward and their foreheads met, his fingers tightened over the box and Nik felt the coarse material of John's gloves against his knuckles. His hand shook. He was keeping the ring covered, like it would vanish should he look at it, or believe for a single moment it was real.

They had talked so many times about their experiences as young men. In the early hours of the morning, when scotch and exhaustion had worn down their defences, the rawness and the hurt had surfaced. Nik, who had hidden what he was lest he face a bullet or prison, acknowledging his very existence criminalised even now; John, who had grown under Section 28, made to feel degenerate and filthy, his lack of worth reinforced by a slighted father's retribution.

Never for a moment had those boys dreamed of a happy ever after, and both had fled into the arms of violence and bloodshed to lose themselves. Both had tucked their hearts away and buried their dreams until they existed only as dogs of war; weapons of the states that had failed them.

And now there it was. Represented as a single tungsten ring with a thread of vibrant blue in the metal. Like his eyes, Nik had thought as he had purchased it.

They shared the same quivering breaths, the promise clasped between their palms, and Nik watched as the low light of dawn caught the first tear as it escaped. Those soulful eyes closing as John caught himself. Nik stroked his cheek with his free hand, thumb brushing through the tear track. "You own me, body, heart and soul. I only ask for your hand in return," Nik whispered, so very meek compared to what he had imagined.

John threw himself forward and Nik caught him, wrapping his arms around his back as John's face pressed into his neck. He smelled of char and blood, sweat and pain, and Nik held him as he sought strength and stability. There were injuries beneath the Kevlar and padding of John's body armour, and Nik would care for him tonight no matter his answer. They had lost men today and John would need convincing to rest before he embarked on the sombre task of informing their families.

When John sat back on his heels, he sniffed, wiped his nose and face on the back of his wrist and then uncovered the ring in Nik's palm. "S'nice," he said, soft and boyish despite the gruff rasp of his voice. Nik could see that young boy in John's eyes, still uncertain, still struggling to believe that someone would love him enough to want to spend the rest of their life at his side.

"Da," Nik said, "it suits you, no?"

"I like it."

"I am glad."

John smiled, the lines at his eyes returning and making Nik's heart ache. "So this is for real, then."

"Da."

"For keeps?"

"For keeps," Nik said, running his thumb over the cool metal. He remembered fondly the first time John had asked him that. Many years ago, when they had only really just met, still circling, still probing tentatively lest they reveal their secret to someone who would react badly. He had offered John a cigar and John had stared at it suspiciously before asking the very same, and Nik had been endeared by it even then. Lieutenant Price had been even rougher around the edges than Captain Price. They had already done so much healing together.

John huffed a soft laugh, wiping at his eyes before glancing at the sky, and then back at Nik. "Yeah..." He cleared his throat, another sniff, "Nikolai, I want t'... bloody 'ell," he took a breath, "I want t' marry you. Yes, I... I'm sayin' yes."

Nik barked a laugh of relief and Price echoed it, watching as Nik ran a hand through his hair as his heart settled. John pulled at the velcro of his left glove with his teeth, tugging it off between his thighs so that Nik could slide the ring over his weathered knuckle. He pressed a kiss to John's open palm, nuzzling his face to it with a contented sigh.

John leaned to the side to see Soap and Gaz gasping at them from the edge of the tarmac. Ghost was, of course, unreadable, but Nik had already talked to him about his intention. Who did you ask for a man's hand in marriage when his father was unavailable? The loyal lieutenant that had fought at his side through the worst the world had to offer, of course. "The whole base will know by lunch," John muttered.

"Da. I... I am sorry. I could not wait any longer. For a while there, I thought I had watched you die."

John lifted Nik's chin and then gathered his hand to his chest. "Ay, I'm here, aren't I? We got home, we made it. Because of you, Nik."

Nik could only nod. There was no point thinking of next time, not when John knelt before him, battered but alive. "You need a medic."

"I need a shower..."

"Medic," Nik insisted. "And if you are a good boy and don't swear at the nurse, I will shower with you."

"Hmm," John smiled, bashful and soft, "seems a fair exchange."

Nik helped John to his feet. Now that the adrenalin had faded and his men were safe, John was limping, an arm folded across his torso. He submitted to inspection with only a minor grump, and then checked on Ghost, Soap and Gaz. They were sound, as John liked to say. Ghost had to stay the night and Soap remained in the chair at his side, but the nurse was happy John's sprains and cuts were manageable with a little support from Nik.

As they stood in the shower, Nik's lips on John's skin, his arms around his waist to hold his body close, Nik let the hot water disguise the tears running down his face. Happiness, relief; they were as heady and overwhelming as anger and sadness sometimes. Nik let himself feel it, knowing it would leave his mind clear for enjoying John later.

"You solid?" John asked, warm hands stroking down Nik's forearms.

"Never better, solnyshko."

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Menderbug

Debut: Hollow Knight

It is Friday the 13th... how frightful! Like, what if you see a ladder or a cat? Would that be scary or what? Jeepers. This post, though, is about something lucky! A lovely little guy who, if the odds are in the favor, you may get to witness for yourself!

Hollow Knight has destructible decorative setpieces out the wazoo. All over the place. But one of the very first ones you encounter, the signpost right at the entrance to the Forgotten Crossroads, is different... yes, all the scenery respawns when you leave and come back, but here, you might get to see the culprit! A humble little bug who has appeared with his little bug toolbox, fixing the signpost that you broke. What in the world? Why does he do this? What the fresh hell is going on here?! Sheesh! Calm down! It's his job! And he loves it!

If he sees you, Menderbug will get scared and fly away, with his teensy little wings. Perhaps you are expecting me to discuss what actual bug he is based on, but he's really just the sort of generic default Bug that many minor characters and enemies are in this game. And that's just fine! He is very cute. But I won't let you leave without some Bug Fact's! Though he does not look like one, the idea of an bug that builds makes me think of the horribly underappreciated webspinner! This is an insect whose front feet excrete silk, which it uses to weave its entire home, all by itself! It's not really that similar to Menderbug, but I would like you to know about them. If you didn't know about them, then it looks like this is your lucky day!

But Menderbug may not always be so lucky... unfortunately, he is killable. He is just a shy little guy who loves to fix his sign, but if you really want to, you can leave and return until he respawns by chance, and take the opportunity to kill him. And there is really no reason to do it! If you kill him, you get a little description in the Hunter's Journal (which does not count toward any completion or achievements, by the way), and access to his house, where you can read his diary. Will you do it? Will you kill this guy so you can go in his house and learn about his life that you ended yourself? Monster.

There is something lucky for Menderbug, though! It is called "internet", and it lets us learn all we need to about him without killing him! We can learn that he LOVES fixing the sign, and in fact, likes for it to break, because it means he gets to fix it more and hone his craft! We can learn that there is a certain Mender Berri who he is trying to muster the courage to tell how he truly feels... ooh la la! And best of all, we can learn that he loves what he does, he loves his life, and he feels he must be the happiest bug in all the land. This is really one of the most delightful little fellows there is, and we should try our best to be like him in real life!

[rexecutioner]

Shadow Knight Headcannons!!

i’m still working of fleshing out my art style so its really inconsistent at the moment lol

(edit: I deleted the art from this post because i hate it, my newer stuff is better and i drew this on in a car)

I also included a fun hc i have and that is that Shadow Knights when they turn into their SK form, the scar from what killed them pulsates and glows, and looks very angry and red and unnatural (Sasha is a fun case, her whole body sort of glows and her hands and arms are completely covered in burn scars, Laurance’s look like metal burns from chains scattered all across his body, but his don’t glow as much because he “died” in the nether, not naturally outside of it, ect)

Also, Shadow Knights have a naturally high body temperature, which Garroth, Dante and Aphmau definitely took advantage of on their “trip”.

Shadow Knights cannot digest food normally, as it just burns up in their body. They do not really have many working organs anyways,(they just kinda sit there) as they are undead. You can still kill premature Shadow Knights, as they do still have blood and wacky ass hearts, but Shadow Knights that have killed their target are un-killable to our knowledge.

A Shadow Knight’s armor is part of them, like a shell of sorts. It is removable, but it's really painful for both the Knight and the person removing it due to how hot it is. No two Shadow Knights have the same armor pattern, it’s alway different in some way, and the patterns can change over time and accomplishments.

More black on a Shadow Knight’s armor usually means they are more level headed, calm, or non violent, though this isn’t always the case. Premature Shadow Knights armor is also usually more black than red, signifying that they haven’t killed many people, if any at all. More red usually means they are more threatening, more experienced, and more dangerous. The armor always has to have at least a little of both. Zenix’s armor is mostly bright red with black undertones, while Laurance’s is mostly black with darker red streaks here and there. Gene and Sasha’s armor are similar, with about an even amount of both, with Gene’s having many jagged blood red strips everywhere, meanwhile Sasha’s fades into a gradient of slightly darker red. Vylad’s armor is also about the same, with a black base and red undertones, but the red on his armor is more desaturated and dull in patterns of light swirls. The red on a Shadow Knight’s armor shines more clearly in the Nether, almost glowing. (Zenix is an eyesore to everyone but Laurance, and only because his eyesight fucking sucks now)

You may be asking, “but Rex, why isn’t Gene’s armor fully red? He’s an actual monster!” To which I say Shadow Knights alway start out with a base color of armor, which is usually black. Zenix is an exception, his base color was red. It’s purely based on chance. The armor usually stays around the same color unless the individual ranks up (kills a lot of people). Gene gained many darker red shades over time, making them harder to see thanks to them blending into his black base, and almost his entire armor is actually a really dark red dappled with blood red streaks.

Will be continuing later!!! I have so many headcanons lol i might draw the armors

[lyndeeznuts]

Thoughts on future playable characters in Fear and Hunger Termina

Tanaka

His gameplay needs to be built around relying on others. Like his arc as an NPC, he needs to get stronger through learning about comradarie and friendship. He’d be a weak early game but very strong late game character.

As the player character, I see him as being able to take advantage of his latent soul to learn skills without the hexen from other characters.

As a party member, perhaps he plays more of a supportive role or has some kind of “copy stance” where he replicates another party member’s attack

He needs to be especially killable at the beginning of the game lol

For B ending players, his character creation would have a path that allows you to determine how much he adopts a ruthless outlook to the business world. I see that leading to a skill like Backstab which perhaps could allow for the pre-moonscorched killing of party members outside of safe hubs.

Please bring back the rugged handsome looks skill. It would be so funny if Tanaka was the only one with a seduce option (not even Pav should get it)

Samarie

As a counterpoint to Tanaka, I think Samarie players should be incentivized to NOT work with others

Like I imagine her difficulty interacting directly with others would cause some party members to occasionally not do what you say or something

Also, she just gets a buff by having fewer party members.

She’ll likely get necromancy or blood golem to compensate for this to get some controllable meat shields bc the contestants can be risky

I could imagine her having some sort of analyze type skill because she’s used to closely observing Marina

Starts out with mind read ofc

Pav

It’s intriguing that he has an ability related to commanding party members

His gameplay should rely on more of that. Maybe he could give a party member a free command each battle, like shield other party members.

Most of his skills should probably just be taken from other skill lines (gun proficiency, intimidate, etc)

Henryk

We need more LORE

Why does he seem familiar with Caligura? Why can he fight okay? (Melee proficiency)

My guess is that he’s a former street urchin/mob guy aiming for the high life

I could see him having steal which I imagine he would have used in the service industry

A skill that makes it possible to craft healing (and not just buffs) with food

Also a character building path where you learn toxicology/poison bc of what he does in the speakeasy in day 3….

August

I feel like he works better as a supportive NPC.

He should stay that way but have more ways to interact with him.

At most, he should be a (possibly temporary) party member.

He’s a skilled hunter. He should have Analyze

Caligura

Similar to above

He should stay a NPC but we should be able to interact with him more

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ the unkillable mercenary. ﹚: alessio arias 781 .𖹭 ݁

. . . need a man after midnight !? 🍒 : “ oh come on cariño — yeah I'm a bad influence but I'm fun aren't I? think you could use some fun. . . so how about it? could have a lot of that with you in my lap, ”

꒰ verse ꒱ 781

꒰ species ꒱ enigma

꒰ ethnicity ꒱ italian spaniard

꒰ age ꒱ 31

꒰ gender ꒱ male

꒰ mbti ꒱ enfp

꒰ alias ꒱ the reaper, god’s perfect idiot ♡, the emerald scourge ( remedy members ), the defender ( civilians )

꒰ story ꒱ 

chaotic and full of grins, alessio arias is known for his effortless charm, flirty exterior and sense of humour. he lives for havoc, is what's been rumoured. befitting, for a mercenary such as himself.

at day, a charismatic mechanical engineer and art student - but a feared, almost lunatic mercenary by night known as the reaper. 'unkillable' is what they call him but he laughs every time. oh he's very much killable. he just keeps crawling back. a bullet wound healed, an arm regrown, cells to joints to bones. he always finds a way back.

he seems to be roped in with the heroes every now and then, but he'd be damned to call himself that. his true mission lies in weeding out every last member of that blasted anti-enigma organisation; someone's gotta be a monster, don't they? and he's exceptional at such. 

 

꒰ appearance ꒱

dark, slightly messy and wavy medium-length hair, which extends just above the base of his neck

emerald green eyes ( with bordered pupils ), black eyeliner below his lids with faint black smudged eye shadow. has a vertical piercing on his left eyebrow

fair olive skin tone. two beauty spots below the right corner of his eye. masculine facial features with a few androgynous aspects here and there

6’7” ( 201cm ) and an athletic build of lean muscle

punk goth styled fashion. typically wears a lot of blacks with green accents. lots of leather jackets and black combat boots along with silver jewellery. especially silver chains around his belt loops

typically has black lipstick on his upper lip. sometimes uses a lip piercing

piercing littered ears; standard lobe piercings on each, whereas his right ear has a triple lobe, an orbital and a forward helix piercing —  the left wears a triple stacked helix and a daith

midline tongue piercing and stud on the right side of his nose

wears silver and black rings along with bracelets

sometimes paints his nails black

silver nipple piercings

 

꒰ personality ꒱

charming and charismatic. characterised by his signature grin, often teasing

a maniac, is what people often call him. best known for his chaotic, eccentric attitude

a charmer, flirtatious and bold. always up for a challenge

doesn’t keep his mouth shut sometimes, definitely loud-mouthed

mischievous and teasing, always joking around and sometimes being a bit silly

might come off as intimidating because of his confident front and bold persona ( has a bit of a bad boy esque )

incredibly protective of those he holds dear and the less strong, has a reputation of putting people around the university in their place ( and making it look like an accident )

isn’t all playful and pleasant as he may seem, extremely morally grey as his job outside of university is hunting down an organisation known as “remedy” for the experimentation on mutants

can be incredibly vengeful and ready to do whatever it takes to achieve his goal

can be reckless and even self-destructive. most definitely has a darker side to him, however masks this with humour

becomes far more terrifying when all the jokes and grins drop completely

deep down, is an extremely anxious and shattered person. feels immense guilt over the atrocities that he has committed. is far more shattered and emotionally vulnerable than people think

a person who is deeply caring when it all boils down to it. someone who thinks he is a monster but actually has a heart of gold with those he cares about or those in need

 

꒰ with a lover ꒱

fun and hyper boyfriend, with an eccentric attitude that carries chaos with it wherever he may settle his two feet, and oh he loves bringing you into it.

very flirtatious, much more than he is in his usual platonic settings and often resorts to teasing you as a way of showing his affection.

passionate and loving — often displays it through physical affection and through spoiling you rotten a lot.

a fan of touch? you’re in luck, this man is touch-starved PUPPY and will take any chance he can get to at least have his hand wrapped around your waist, shoulder or arm. it helps him feel calm.

adores playfully bullying and poking fun at you, be it through making you indescribably flustered or simply pulling at your leg.

speaking of teasing, he loves mischief and spooking you by jumping out from random corners around the dorm, just so that he can pull you into his arms and soothe you after with a wide grin on his face.’

very protective, but will always do his hardest to ensure it is not overbearing.

may also display signs of possessiveness, however, this is also a trait that he tries not to be overbearing in and ensures that he is not coming off as controlling or toxic.

loves dancing you around and taking you with him on late night drives to sing in the car and grab some snacks — and also sometimes sit with you in silence and cuddle up in the backseat.

always expect alessio to unexpectedly show up and snatch you, just to litter you with kisses, fluster you or cuddle you with him — sometimes to also play games in his apartment.

calls you up during missions just to hear your voice

ask him nicely and he would most likely burn the world down for you.

 

꒰ strengths ꒱

hyper-regenerative abilities: the ability to heal from any wound, whether it be a papercut or being disintegrated.

advanced bodily function: heightened speed, strength, agility and durability — along with advanced senses.

weapon mastery: a master of weapons and highly adaptable to anything he can get his hands on, ranging from sword to a mere fork.

immunity: due to his fast-replicating cells, most illnesses and diseases are killed off immediately before they have any sort of long-lasting affect on him

 

꒰ weaknesses ꒱

strawberries: he has an intense allergy to strawberries — it greatly deters his senses when consumed.

 

꒰ relationships ꒱

valerio agresta: father

elena arias perez: mother, deceased.

lorenzo agresta arias: younger brother, deceased.

rishen herrera: boyfriend

zhào talisen: frenemy

zhào yŭ xī: younger sister figure

felicity smith: ex girlfriend

luciel bealieu: ex boyfriend

the artisan: enemy.

yuè yizé: complicated

takara shimada: friend

shalika vaishya: friend

yuè mèng yáo: motherly figure, from another universe ( verse 9948e )

zhào mùchén: enemy, from another universe ( verse 9948e )

zhào hàoyú: best friend, from another universe ( verse 9948e )

zhào yizé: friend, from another universe ( verse 9948e )

zhào haitāo: friend, from another universe ( verse 9948e )

 

꒰ extra ꒱

 he is a university student who majors in biochemistry and takes a theatre class as a minor

he speaks spanish ( castilian ) and italian

he knows asl

he is apart of the university dance club

he plays both acoustic and electric guitar

he smokes cigarettes

he has many goldfish named bob

[cheese-water]

Look, if it isn’t an server event, my picks for the Philza rescue squadron would be Tubbo, Missa, and Etoiles.

Tubbo because he will be the first one to notice (Monday 6pm BST mark my word) and like the paranoid cubito that he is, he will immediately start jumping to conclusions that happen to be correct (“what if cucurucho kidnapped his ass :((((((”).

Missa because Tubbo likes him and thinks he doesn’t have as many screws loose as the others. Also cause he matches Tubbo’s energy real well and will start yelling if he finds out Phil was maybe kidnapped. Missa’s abject horror at the situation wins Tubbo over.

And Etoiles because Tubbo and Missa are well aware on how killable they are. Etoiles has made them very aware of it. However, he will do anything for Philza and would drop everything he’s doing if he finds out he was kidnapped. Plus, it’s his dream to watch Tubbo and Missa try and fail to kill mobs in the middle of the woods while he ploughs through them all. Protection y’know.

They’re all just hardcore members of the Philza famclub. Fit only got ousted by Tubbo because he doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw and Fit didn’t give him an “appropriate reaction” to the potential kidnapping of another islander: crying and screaming or outright murder.

[dandelion-bride]

Headcanon chat: so, pursuant to a previous post regarding how difficult it would be to redeem Gortash from Bane, I wanted to explore what that might look like. What does a Banite Crisis of Faith look like? What does Bane give Gortash?

Security. Bane has Rules and Gortash can Follow Them. Similar to Raphael, there is a strict hierarchy to follow. There is Hierarchy, Consistency, Order. The world is drawn in a simple black and white, and as long as he is ruthless enough to ink those black lines, he is safe.

The Ability to Support his Partner. The Dark Urge has no choice in their path - they kill by their own will, or they become a mindless feral creature, killing and spawning. Bane gives the power for Gortash to enable the Dark Urge to succeed in their 'sacrifice the world' quest.

The Only Choice. No one has saved this boy, no one has cracked the shell and been able to hold a hand out to save the man. All he knows is power. His one equal connection is just as damned as he is. He is the Chosen of Bane, the Lord of Tyranny, the God of Darkness. He can see no other path.

If the Dark Urge is dead, we don't have to deal with #2, but we also lose the one equal connection Gortash has ever forged, and now we need to recast one, possibly while dealing with repressed grief. On the other hand, if the Dark Urge rejects Bhaal, #2 is no longer an issue.

For #1, there are plenty of Lawful deities. I saw someone (feel free to chime in!) who talked an AU about little Enver being sent off to the House of Wonders as an apprentice for the Gondians. He would have thrived there. After his fuckery at the Foundry and Iron Throne? Ehhh not so much.

But you need to find a lawful deity who would accept him now. Someone who could look past the past, who could agree to take in the former Banite, protect and support him, as he turns his face from a dark past towards the dawn of a bright future. Someone whose statues show him stepping on a skull, to show he can conquer Death.

Look, all I'm saying is that "I shall let all who dwell in dark feel your holy dawn, Morninglord. Hear my prayer." sounds like it could be rewritten into a very appropriate Paladin oath. Especially if the Dead Three are on their last legs at the end of the game and potentially killable by mortals.

[harveywritings92]

[Random magic au: Witch! Reader summons Reaper! Ghost to give a brief  explanation about immortals after Soap showed up at her door panicked, Simon appears in her livingroom looking sheepish while holding a cookie.]

Ghost: I was at a party y’know

R/n: oh, sorry. We’ll be quick, I need your help.

[Ghost perks up as Soap explains a theory that a former enemy of his, Graves; who he thought was dead. May be immortal and wandering the earth after supposedly seeing him around town the night before...]

Ghost, to Soap: There’s no such thing as true immortality, for humans anyways, He’d have to be very well versed in the old magic, or have some sort of pact with a god or demon….(to R/n) May I go now?

R/n: Oh, er, yes! I hope it’s a good party.

Ghost, gives her his cookie: Hmm, I think it might go downhill at about midnight…

R/n, nibbling on said cookie: Why?

Ghost: that’s when they’ll be taking my mask off…

(He calmly lifts his mask up and there’s flash of lighting showing Simon’s true skeletal face under the glamor spell he’s wearing, R/n nods and snaps her fingers teleporting Ghost away.)

====================

{R/n and Ghost have such a pact, Apparently contracting with a god or demon has both it’s perks and consequences. While under the god of death’s protection they’re essentially un-killable and can use high leveled magic. The down side? If she gets hurt severely then the pain from said injury is much worst than average. Let’s say that R/n broke her legs? Well good news! It’ll heal almost instantly, Bad news? Every step she takes after that feels like the bones in her legs are breaking all over again. So, yeah.. She needs to be very careful when out doing jobs. ]    

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Death and transformation, or: how to unhex. 2714 words.

1843

The pit was four graves wide and had been dug as deep as the earth allowed. The bodies were rolled in unceremoniously and without care.

“We should take their teeth,” someone in the coven suggested; witches giggled.

“Hush!” your aunt yelled. “We do not revel in death. Nor do we trade in keepsakes of evil.”

The vampires would take days to burn and you wondered if their colony would be warned off by the smell. Would they see the dark plumes and know that witches had discovered a means to their end? Would everything change now the invulnerable were killable?

“Amabel, take Hannah and Fern, go to the village and treat the wounded. The rest of you… We have work to do.”

…

1986

The question burned on your tongue. An acidic bubbling. In the same way you knew he’d been strengthened enough by the dog to find more food, he knew you wanted to know what that food was.

“No humans,” the vampire told you. “This… this hurts you still.”

You nodded. “It does,” you agreed. “Why aren’t you…” Was there a diplomatic way of asking a monster why they weren’t acting monstrously?

“I can control it,”

“But animal blood isn’t enough,” you stated.

“No. It isn’t.”

There was more wrong with, well… all of it, than there was right. Yet, you persisted. You blinked yourself out of his gaze and turned to the kitchen. As you began to collect what you’d need to try to uncurse him, you spoke.

“There is a hierarchy in the coven. And, while it’s true that the higher up they are, the stronger their magic is, there is still not a huge difference between each of us. If we want our magic to be more powerful, then we cast together.”

The vampire had moved to sit on the couch. He looked unnatural there, but he was trying to put you at ease. At the very least, he was listening intently.

“So, that’s good and bad for us now. Bad because I can’t be any stronger than I am. Good because my magic is comparable to that of the witch that cursed you.” You turned to him suddenly. “Do you know who cursed you? Or why?”

“No. I have only ever been cursed,”

“Oh… And, ah, when do you normally, you know, turn back?”

A small smile played on the vampire’s lips. “By the sunrise of the next day,”

“Okay. Well, that’s only a couple hours away, so we better get to work. And we still need to give you a name if we can’t find yours. I had an idea for that actually.”

You couldn’t say if he had moved at vampire speed or if you’d just been preoccupied with digging through your crystals to find a selenite wand, but he was at your side.

“You must sleep,”

“I can sleep when we’re done,” you answered, not looking at him.

“It does not hurt to be the creature,” he lied. It didn’t physically hurt, not since you had healed Vecna’s curse. It hurt to have all that awareness though. Like he was locked in a cage too small for his body.

“You don’t trust me? Trying to postpone this in case I accidentally blow you up?”

The vampire took hold of both your hands, the selenite falling to the floor. He saw the fear flash across your face but it didn’t loosen the grip he had.

“I trust in your magic. In you…”

“You’re not meant to. We’re not meant to… work together,”

“I know.” He let you go and took a step back.

Each of his movements that you could track, you knew were deliberate… permissive.

“You remember?” you asked.

“No. I… feel it.”

A vampire’s hatred for a witch ran that deep then. Born immortal enemies.

“Maybe you’re right. I do need sleep. I feel bad just leaving you to turn though.”

He looked one part sceptical one part emotionally devasted. It was a strange expression. “I will stay. When I am like that, I can sleep too,”

“Yeah… Okay… The idea I had, about your name, was another spell. I don’t know if it will work, because of the whole… being cursed… but it’s worth a try. Now. Quickly. Then I’ll sleep.” You weren’t sure why you were pitching it like a kid asking for their bedtime to be pushed back.

“Quickly,” he repeated, the word sharp in his mouth.

“Yeah. It’s, ah… Come here.”

He followed you around the kitchen counter and to the coffee table that had become your makeshift altar. When you motioned for him to sit opposite you, he did. Reaching out for your bag on the couch, you dragged it to you and retrieved your little notebook. With a piece of torn paper in one hand, you lit a candle with the other.

“Guiding spirits, lend charity,

Lend not misgivings, lend clarity.

What is in a name, a truth be told,

What he answers to, let unfold.”

The paper burned over the flame while you cast. You held it out to the vampire, and he let you drop it into his open palm. The fire did not burn him.

“Close your hand,” you told him.

His eyes flicked up to yours briefly before back down to where his fingers curled around the disintegrating paper. His head cocked to the side and you smiled. You could tell he was surprised at the feeling.

“Open.”

When his fist unclenched, a piece of paper laid on his palm, unburnt and smooth. You could see it was no longer blank either.

“What does it say?”

The vampire looked at the letters and tried to remember if they had once meant something to him. Nothing came to mind. He read emotionless, “Edward.”

…

Dawn broke and you’d not tumbled from your dreams.

He had returned to his bat state at first light, flown silently into the bedroom, and watched you sleep. By mid-morning, he scurried under the bed, nestling into the nest you’d created him on that first day.

The phone rang just before midday, slamming you into consciousness.

“Hello,” you croaked, feeling as seedy as if you’d been on a bender.

Something had happened in Hawkins. Something inexplicable, said the person on the phone. There were injured, a couple of dozen including kids. “Could you come? You’re on the list from the high school aid centre. We could use all the help we could get.”

Two paracetamol tablets and a glass of water later, you were out the door.

Vampires, when killing unchecked, ripped throats clean out. Blood would drench the body and the ground beneath it. You would know that it wasn’t just about hunger. It was about sending a message. Vecna was sending a message too.

Arms were snapped at unnatural angles. Eye sockets bled. Bones sat jagged, sticking out from fleshy wounds. It was not just a massacre. It was a show of force.

You worked as fast as you could, focussing on those that would need your magic to survive their injuries. Nobody could understand what had happened to the dozens of people, so it was fine that nobody would understand the healing either.

While you listened to the screaming and chaos, you watched out for the child soldier teens. None of them appeared, something you didn’t know how to feel about. Hawkins’ mayor, however, did show. He stood uselessly, the horror before him beyond comprehension. It took him too long to focus his attention, demanding a phone of the people around him, then yelling down the line for more resources, the national guard, and a county-wide evacuation.

It was well into the night before you paused to take a breath. The woman working beside you handed you a bottle of water and a sympathetic smile. “You should take a second,”

“Yeah,” you replied, running your hands through your hair. “I’ll just be outside if you need me.”

The night was cold. You found a bench seat to rest on. Before you could shake thoughts out of your head though, the flutter of wings drew your attention up. The bat landed next to you.

“Hey,” you greeted.

It didn’t make sense, the way you felt about the bat. You scooped him up and hugged him to your body like he wasn’t a vampire. He did his part too; fluffing his body and chittering at you. It was him. But it also wasn’t.

You pictured a Venn diagram with ‘the bat’s personality’ as the lefthand circle and ‘the vampire’s personality’ as the righthand one. The crossover in the middle, maybe that was who he was before he was cursed.

“I haven’t asked you about any of this. Did you see it? When he first came? Remind me to ask you when, you know, you can talk again.”

The list started to write itself in your head.

“There’s probably a lot of things we should talk about… I don’t know… I don’t know how we’ve not talked about some it.”

Specifically, you were thinking about the eradication of his kind. Did he know that he was the last of his species? Did he know the hunters were witches? Did he want to know how many you’d personally killed? If he asked, you wouldn’t have been able to answer. You hadn’t kept count.

“You should go. I’m going to be here for a while more. I’ll come home as soon as I can. Stay close, though. It’s dangerous out there.”

The bat silently hopped out of your clutches and onto the seat before flying up and out into the darkness, with the word home playing on repeat in his mind.

...

The exhaustion was more profound than just bone deep. It was in the marrow. In the cells and the atoms of your very being. It took all the willpower you had to drag your feet up the stairs of the trailer and collapse on the couch.

You had been helping and healing for two days straight, not stopping to observe a good night’s sleep. It was close to midnight the day after you’d got the call when you returned home. Hours and hours of misery and pain.

The bat had already snuck his way into the trailer. He chittered at your return, only to quickly quieten down when he saw that state you were in. Too tired to offer a greeting, you were passed out before he’d made it over to you.

It took some work, but the bat managed to clutch the throw blanket he’d once used to hide his naked vampire form and drag it over your body. He hoped it would provide some warmth, and maybe even comfort.

He ate fruit throughout the night, ducking out of the trailer once to assess the state of Hawkins, then returned for sunrise. The bat got into his under-the-bed hideout and fell asleep.

 Like you were taking turns to guard each other, you woke up just after he went to bed. You checked on him in his nest then left the bedroom.

Although you had not really had enough rest and your mind was still a little fractured, not able to unwind from the sight of Vecna’s victims, you started to prepare for the spell to undo a hex.

On the fourth day in Hawkins, you had spent the day on the road looking for Hawthorn. You had been smart, utilising your time well. It was that day you stocked up on a lot of mystic ingredients, trinkets, and inventory. Now, almost a week later, you were grateful for it all.

In a large bowl, you prepared a potion that would be poured into a salt bath. First, a blend of dried petals. From a daffodil, a measure of forgiveness. The white star of the Ornithogalum, to symbolise atonement and reconciliation. More yellow from a black-eyed Susan, an offering of endurance and survival. And finally, the acanthus, for enduring life.

Next you collected a white candle, the selenite wand you’d already fished out, and one large king protea flower, standing proud on its everlasting stem.

The last thing to do was to write the spell.

…

The bat had eaten all your fruit. He ate a lot for such a little guy. As you stood in the kitchen deciding on what you would have for lunch, you thought about how, in your mind he was still ‘the bat.’ Technically he was Edward. That didn’t seem right. It didn’t even really fit the vampire.

The milk was expired and you were out of mac and cheese. Using the last dregs of the orange juice, you had a bowl of cereal while sitting on the couch and staring at the spot where a television should go.

“I need to go shopping,” you said to yourself. Yeah, you had all the witchy supplies you needed. As for literally everything else, you were running on empty.

By mid-afternoon you had burnt through two teapots of rooibos. Thankfully it was a caffeine-free tea, otherwise you’d have been bouncing off the walls. The sugar you’d heaped into each cup was doing a good job of providing energy enough.

The spell was ready by early evening, just in time for the bat to emerge from the bedroom.

“How did you sleep?” you asked him. It made you laugh when he chittered a response. You’d miss that sound when he was free of his animal cage.

You showed him what you had achieved during the day, then collected everything and headed to the bathroom. “I don’t know how common it is for trailers like this to have baths, but I’m taking it as a good omen,” you laughed.

As you filled the bath with warm water, you stirred in pink salt. You glanced over at the bat. “Are you nervous?” you asked. He shuffled on the spot a little. “It’s okay if you are… Can I tell you something though? I’m going to miss you like this. Maybe I’ll need to get myself a familiar after all, huh?”

When the bath was full, you poured your petal blend in, then sat the selenite and protea on the side of the tub. You knelt on the floor, knees digging into the cheap tiles.

“You’ll need to be in the water, then I’ll light this candle and start the spell,” you explained to the bat. “If you turn back into your… other form before I finish, you need to stay calm and stay in the water. If you remember to, holding the selenite and protea will help, but it’s okay if you don’t.”

The selenite focused energy and brought clarity to the spell. The protea flower symbolised transformation.

The bat flittered on the water's surface, searching for a way to remain in the bath. It took him a few seconds to find a position that worked; he floated on his back with his wings spread. You smiled at him, holding in a giggle.

“Here we go,” you told him, to which he offered a single small squeak.

With a match, you lit the candle and placed it by the protea.

“From Ancient times this power came,

For witch to have but none to reign.

Troubled blood fixed in a curse,

We seek to change, to heal, to reverse.”

The bat was suddenly pulled beneath the surface of the water. You yelped and started to move but quickly stopped. Breathe, you said to yourself. Between the water’s movement and all the dried petals, you couldn’t make out what was happening in the bath. Then, just as quickly as the disappearance, an entire body shot out from the water, hands grasping at the side of the tub, clawed fingers digging in.

Edward’s mouth sat agape for a moment before his eyes darted to you. You held his stare and hoped he found solace in your face.

It took him only seconds to compose himself. With tentative hands, Edward reached out and took hold of the selenite wand and protea. He looked at you, the candle’s flame reflected in his eyes. You nodded once, then continued.

“Of earth, of water, and of fire,

This curse or hex we retire.

From Ancient times this power came,

I use it now for this soul’s reclaim.”

End Note: The Grimoire and timeline have been updated (links above). There is also a very special post dedicated to the unhexing spell; click here and show it some love.

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @munsonsbait @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out

[nice-profession-mechanic]

A friend started playing GW2 and now i get to relive the personal story through the eyes of someone so completely uncommitted to the story that we get to enjoy such stuff at:

Sylvari Personal Story:

Player character: This prophetic dream contained a terrible monster that I can only assume is a metaphor for the evil in the world.

Caith: Yeah, nah. That guy is real, he looks exactly like that. Thanks for the assist, he was very confused how psychic unborn children helped kick his ass.

Player character: OK, well...what about the mysterious unkillable green knight in my prophetic dream?

Caith: That guy is also just a guy, he's over there. Kick his ass, he's very much killable.

Player character: So you're telling me prophecies aren't real?

Caith: Nah, yeah. They're real, you just happened to dream about really specific things that are one to one how they appear outside of the dream.

[de-n-i-al]

Out of context quotes

(qsmp red team)

:]

Foolish: 'seems killable'

Cellbit: 'fucker shit cum balls, cum balls'

Jaiden: "we just need to camp them out for 1 hour and 20 minutes'

Slimecicle: 'I'm like a little rat'

Slimecicle: 'I'm just kneading dough in the backyard, I'm malewife-ing'

Foolish: 'let's kill him :D'

Slimecicle: 'I'm going to come drop you kids off your lunch'

Jaiden: 'they're calling you momcicle'

Slimecicle: 'sorry to make you wait, kids, moms gotta eat too'

Carre: 'very loud high pitched screaming'

Cellbit 'were fucked, it's joever'

Jaiden 'AAAA Etoiles is after me, I'm dead'

Slimecicle: 'Tubbo! How are you so fucking fast?!'

Foolish 'so what's the game plan? Run and hide or?'

Jaiden: 'I HOPE THEY BURNN'

Philza: 'I got everyone hats'

Jaiden: 'I want to be the king of pirates!'

Philza: 'should I just fuckin run for the thing?'

Slimecicle: 'we made a pool'

Slimecicle: 'I hope I melt'

Slimecicle: 'I'm going to verbally assault them'

Philza: 'they started it!'

Slimecicle: 'The bread for my beautiful children is here!'

Slimecicle: 'Hey Phil, my beautiful boy, I have something for you'

Slimecicle: 'phil this is fucked up, you don't do this to a roleplayer'

Slimecicle: 'they didn't even 'yes and' they 'no sworded'

Slimecicle: 'Phil, I just want to be a desirable male wife'

Slimecicle: 'Guys, let's remember to have fun'

Philza: 'I like how no one hesitated to turn on others'

Jaiden: 'BAD YOUR SUCH A HATER'

Jaiden: 'he took my God damn straw hat'

Philza: 'were getting spawn camped by badboyhalo and tubbo'

Slimecicle: 'what to the right'

Philza: 'she's gonna kill you man'

Slimecicle: 'i hate everyone who isn't you guys'

Slimecicle: 'I don't think I can look fitmc in the eyes'

Slimecicle: 'We can't even place blocks on half of our land BECAUSE MY BODYS ARE ALL OVER'

Philza: 'the teams are so balanced'

Slimecicle: 'I don't know how to make a backpack'

Philza: 'Can we go back to adventure mode and roleplay'

Slimecicle: 'Please, I'll do anything, just get me off this island'

(Ngl at this point they all go crazy)

(Also charlie loses his fucking voice)

Slimecicle: 'hey cellbit want to beat the shit out of each other?'

Everyone: 'screaming'

Slimecicle: 'ADMINS CAN YOU DO /SLIMECICLE HAPPY??!?!'

Philza: 'Guys, I think we are the cursed team'

Jaiden: 'Do you think the admins are watching us and seeing what to change'

Slimecicle: 'This isn't purgatory, this is hell'

Jaiden: 'take the children!'

Philza: 'This is too much I'm dying'

Jaiden: 'Hey guys, want to huddle together for the last 30minutes?'

Philza: 'I'm light headed'

Slimecicle: 'i feel the right side of my brain hurting'

Jaiden: 'Philza, kill yourself'

Slimecicle: 'The most fun I've had is burning myself to death'

Jaiden: 'Look at the piles of bodies'

Jaiden: 'Untangle it like a spaghetti'

Slimecicle: 'Admins spawn herobrine'

Baghera: 'Can't wait for wilbur to join'

Slimecicle: 'Guys, let's all meet up and go to Disney land and send the pictures to badboyhalo'

Slimecicle: 'your happy? I'm thrilled baghera'

Philza: 'We become npc's'

Slimecicle: 'I can't tell if I'm having a great time or a panic attack'

Foolish: 'I'm tingly everywhere'

Everyone: 'weird ass singing'

Jaiden: 'singing gangnem style'

(Fucking kill me omfg I'm watching the stream and my ears are dying)

Cellbit: 'I want to go to purgatory in real life'

Jaiden: 'HOW IS THERE STILL 15 MINUTES LEFT'

Philza: 'Guys i brought us a fidget toy'

Cellbit: 'This is a pretty fucking balanced team yeah'

(Continuous killing of eachother)

Slimecicle: 'let's hop in the other chats and see how they are doing'

foolish: 'WHY ARE MY ARMS STILL TINGLY??'

Philza: 'HOW ARE WE STILL SECOND????'

Philza: 'Were going to roleplay a village, im going to make a school'

Foolish: 'I want to get burned by the sun, just to feel something'

Cellbit: 'What if we make a team to fight against the people who put us here and call it oder theorists'

Baghera: 'Philza, where are you? I'm going to kill you'

Philza: 'baghera come kill me'

Jaiden: 'IM BACK BITCH!'

(THEYRE JUST KILLING EACHOTHER)

cellbit: 'We ended up on second, green will never live this down'

Slimecicle: 'What do you want from us...'

Cellbit: 'maybe I shouldn't have killed all of those fed workers'

Slimecicles: 'Guys, I'm like clearly turning into a code'

Slimecicle: '3 months ago, I dumped 3 pounds of sand down philzas toilet, so foolish would think he clogged it'

(Cellbit and slime have lost their voices 0_0)

Slimecicle: 'I fucking sound like a dying goose'

Philza: 'dantdm is canonically dead'

(They all agreed to become more decrepit bro)

(They are going to have fucked up skins too bro)

(They are going crazy)

(God this is killing me, why am I doing this)

Slimecicle: 'fuck my arc I'm going on a cannibal arc'

(God dammit this has been the most fucked up stream I've ever watched)

(They are going to rebalance it thank fuck)

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 2) Chapter Eleven

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Eleven: One Hell of a Murder

Summary: In the aftermath of Sebastian's "death," more murder is discovered.

            (Y/N) pretended to shudder in fear as Baldroy held them steady. Beside them, Finny and Mey-Rin cried, and the guests (excepting Phelps, but no one noticed that) looked on in horror at Sebastian’s “dead” body. So far, the acting had gone perfectly well. As long as (Y/N) continued to play the part of poor mourning maid, friend of the butler, everything would go well.

            Ciel ran into the room, still in his nightclothes, standing beside Tanaka and Arthur. His eyes widened in similar panic as they landed on Sebastian, laying on his back in a pool of blood with a fire poker lodged in his chest. His acting was just as impressive as ever.

            “Young Master!” cried Finny worriedly.

            “Sebastian…?” Ciel paused before moving forward towards Sebastian.

            Mey-Rin caught him. “No, stop! Young Master, you must not enter, not at all!”

            “Let me go!” demanded Ciel.

            “No, Young Master!” said Finny.

            “Stay back!” Ciel pushed them away. “Don’t you dare order your master around!”

            “Young Master…!” Tears streamed down Finny’s cheeks.

            Ciel stood over Sebastian. “Sebastian, how much longer are you going to keep up this childish prank? Once again, I can’t imagine the floor makes for comfortable slumber.”

            Ah, the part of the child in denial. Everyone will be too busy pitying him to question his performance, thought (Y/N).

            “How much longer do you intend to feign sleep, hm?” said Ciel. “Can you not hear me? I’m telling you to get up.” He gritted his teeth and pulled the poker from Sebastian’s chest.

            Ah, that’s got to be irritating. It always stings when it’s pulled out, thought (Y/N).

            “Why you!” cried Ciel.

            “My Lord!” warned Arthur.

            “Sebastian!” Ciel grabbed the labels of Sebastian’s tailcoat. “You get up right now, you hear me?! I command you!” He slapped Sebastian when he didn’t move. “Did you fail to hear my command?! Who in the name of hell gave you permission to die?! I’ll never forgive you, Sebastian!” He raised his hand to hit Sebastian again. “Open your damn—!”

            (Y/N) caught his arm. “Young Master. Please stop. We can’t take any more of this.” They pretended to sob, turning their face from Sebastian’s corpse. “It’s difficult enough…He’s already dead…”

            Ciel pretended to tremble as he faced Sebastian. “Are you…really dead? Sebastian…You, my butler…You and you alone, who…who promised you would stay at my side until the very end—” He leaned over Sebastian body, and (Y/N) watched as he whispered a true order to Sebastian.

            “The corpse will rot if we leave it here, so it would be a good idea to move it quickly,” said Grey coldly.

            (Y/N) glanced at him, a slight coldness in their gaze. Sebastian may not be killable by something as simple as a human blade, but that didn’t mean they liked Grey trying to kill him. Unfortunately, Grey was the Queen’s butler, so for Sebastian and his Master’s sake, (Y/N) couldn’t retaliate. (If they could, (Y/N) would add Grey to the death toll at this banquet).

            “…Yeah,” said Baldroy, nodding hesitantly.

            “Come on, Young Master…” said Mey-Rin gently, pulling Ciel to his feet.

            “No, let me go!” cried Ciel. “Don’t leave me behind, Sebastian! Sebastian! I command you! I command you…! I command you!”

            Lau hummed as he watched the scene. “Committing this last murder would have been impossible for the confined Earl, hm?” The guests’ eyes turned to him, and Lau smirked. “This is all turning out to be very amusing indeed.”

            (Y/N) quite agreed.

            “Amusing?!” cried Grimsby. “Two people have been murdered in the space of one night!”

            And Phelps is missing, noted (Y/N), but they would leave that to the humans.

            “A-And he was killed in such a way…” Irene shivered as she stared at the bloodstained poker.

            “Tell me about it. Runnin’ him through with a fireplace poker…was just too much…” agreed Baldroy.

            (Y/N) turned into Mey-Rin, who comforted them during the reminder of what horrible sight they had walked in on.

            Arthur examined the body. “There are signs of trauma to the head. He may have been struck from behind while stoking the fire.”

            “And ‘cos that didn’t do him in, they finished him off with another blow to the chest, huh?” said Baldroy.

            “Or maybe they didn’t wait to see if he was dead and instead attacked him twice in quick succession…” said Grey. “Rather than a single attack, two attacks would have been sure to kill him. How strange.”

            You would know, thought (Y/N).

            They rather liked the confusion on Grey’s face since it was clear that he had only attacked from the back with a hit to the head and a stab through the back, so he was confused about how Sebastian ended up with a stab to the chest. However…it also meant he would be suspicious. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow in clear view of Sebastian’s “vacant” eyes in a message to him saying: “You’ve really just made more problems for yourself, haven’t you?” Sebastian would have to run around quite a bit to deal with any of Grey’s suspicions (and (Y/N) would be probably dragged in, too).

            Arthur paused beside the body and considered. “If he did not die from the blow to the back of his head, why did the murderer go to the trouble of stabbing him from the front?”

            Because Sebastian was in a hurry and stabbed himself the wrong way, thought (Y/N).

            “Yeah,” agreed Baldroy. “Normally you’d attack from the same direction if you’re attackin’ twice.”

            “Then maybe there are multiple perpetrators,” said Arthur. “For example, who spoke to him from the front to catch his attention while the second snuck up from behind and bludgeoned him in the head. Then the one in front delivered the finishing blow without pause.”

            (Y/N) had quickly landed on him as the most sensible human present.

            “In any case, it is a fact that I sense not a shred of mercy or hesitation,” said Lau. “The culprit or culprits managed to kill that butler, so they must be very—”

            “Please just stop now!” Finny’s voice cut through the discussion. He held Ciel tightly. It was kind of adorable and brotherly. “How could you talk like that when the Young Master’s right here…! Please consider the Young Master’s feelings!”

            “Finny!” admonished Mey-Rin. She bowed. “P-Please excuse our rudeness, please do! We’re all a bit shaken, we are!” (Y/N) shivered and nodded to add to the excuse.

            “Well…He does have a point,” said Grey. “We can stand around the corpse bandying theories about all we like, but it won’t get us anywhere. So let’s first carry this to the cellar. The discussion of the murderer’s identity and the like can be continued afterward, perhaps over a meal or something.

            Woodley blanched. “How could you take this so leisurely!”

            “You’re right. No good will come of rushing things!” chirped Lau.

            “That’s that, then,” said Grey, turning to leave. “We’ll leave you servants to handle the disposal of that thing.”

            Sebastian was really lucky (Y/N) respected his instructions so much since they really wanted to stab Grey through the chest with his own sword for treating Sebastian like a troublesome object.

            Grey glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh, and have breakfast ready for us as well, hm?”

            (Y/N) straightened and bowed. “Yes, sir.” They would play the part Sebastian asked of them. At least the situation was entertaining. The guests nodded and walked out of the room, not wanting to remain in the room with the corpse any longer.

            “(Y/N), are you sure you don’t want to rest? After that scare, you must be shaken, you must,” said Mey-Rin.

            (Y/N) put on a soft, shaky smile. “Sebastian would want me to do my job, especially in his absence…And so I will.”

            “Oh, (Y/N)…” Mey-Rin’s gaze softened. She knew Sebastian and (Y/N) were close, so she worried for how this would hit (Y/N).

            “Do as they say,” said Ciel. “Take Sebastian to the cellar. I apologize for losing my composure.”

            “Not at all!” cried Mey-Rin.

            “Young Master…” Finny gazed at Ciel in worry.

            “Tanaka,” said Ciel.

            “Yes, sir,” said Tanaka, in his full form.

            “Sebastian is dead. You are my butler from this day forth,” said Ciel. “I entrust you with the management of the manor and the supervision of the servants. And this pin too…” He held out the bloody pin from Sebastian’s uniform. “I return to your keeping.”

            “The pin of the head butler…this does bring back memories,” said Tanaka. (Y/N) could see the ages of service to the Phantomhive estate in his eyes and knew he’d do his job admirably. “Will an old man like me be equal to the duties, I wonder?”

            “You need only do it until a replacement arrives,” said Ciel.

            “As you wish, sir,” said Tanaka. “I shall by all means accept it.” He pinned it to his lapel and straightened. The old man Tanaka was gone, and the butler had returned, ready to perform for the Phantomhive household with familiar skill. He clapped his hands and addressed the staff. “Then let us first prepare for the morning baths. Mey-Rin, please see to the hot water. Finny, Baldroy, once you have moved Sebastian, please carry hot water to the Young Master’s bathroom. (Y/N), please see to it the guests are taken care of during breakfast.”

            “Yes, sir,” said all four.

            Tanaka turned to Ciel. “Young Master, you will catch cold if you stay dressed like that.. Let us first see to getting you a change of clothing. The head of the Phantomhive family must not be shaken by the death of a mere servant. The previous master was never once seen to be losing his composure over such a trigle.”

            “You are strict as usual, old man,” said Ciel with some fondness.

            Tanaka smiled before facing Arthur, the only guests who had remained in the room. “Professor. I sincerely apologize that such events have taken—.”

            “No, no,” said Arthur. “He is far more in need of you than I…Please stay with the Earl.”

            “I am deeply touched by your concern,” said Tanaka. “Now then, let us go, Young Master. You must not keep your guests waiting.”

l

            The storm raged outside as the guests sat at the breakfast table in a tense silence. (Y/N) was once again reminded of human’s ease at being distracted by observing that no one had noticed Phelps’s absence. (Y/N) had a suspicion that somehow he wouldn’t be making it to breakfast, and even though that would mean there was a mystery that Sebastian hadn’t anticipated, they would clear that up quickly if needed.

            “It’s a great help that (Y/N) and Sebastian took care of the meals in advance,” said Ciel in a subdued tone.

            “Smells yummy! Let’s eat!” said Grey happily, quickly digging in.

            Grimsby looked at Irene in concern. “What’s wrong, Irene? You’ve barely touched your plate.”

            “I’m sorry,” said Irene. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

            Grey paused. “Hey, if that food’s gonna go to waste, can I help myself to it?”

            Irene picked up her plate. “Yes, here yo—”

            “No, not yours,” said Grey. He pointed lazily with his fork. “But the one next to you.”

            “Eh?” Irene glanced to her side in confusion. “Oh…you are right. There is an extra place here. Did the chef prepare one too many?”

            “(Y/N) and Sebastian prepared breakfast,” said Ciel. He looked at (Y/N).

            They straightened. “We ensure there was a plate for every guest, my Lord.”

            “Eh? Then whose is it?” said Lau.

            “Everyone is present and—oh!” exclaimed Irene. “Mr. Phelps is missing!”

            It took them all long enough, thought (Y/N).

            “You’re right. I failed to notice because he doesn’t have much of a presence,” chuckled Lau.

            “Now that you mentioned it, I haven’t seen him all morning,” said Grimsby.

            “It seems he’s really sleeping it!” said Woodley with a laugh.

            Arthur stood up. “If I may!” He looked serious. “What do you say we go look in the Earl’s bedroom?” He was the only one who knew that after two deaths it was necessary to check on everyone’s wellbeing and not assume anything. Really, he was the only sensible one there.

            Ciel stood. “I’ll show you the way.”

            The solemn exchanged caught the rest of the party’s attention, and shivers ran down their spines. It was clear what Arthur was worried for.

            The group ran through the halls of the manor until they came upon Ciel’s bedroom, which Phelps was sleeping in since Ciel and Arthur had stayed in his. Arthur banged on the doors.

            “Mr. Phelps! Mr. Phelps! Please respond if you’re there!” he called. Nothing. He tried the door handle, but it was locked. “The lock, it’s—! My Lord, where is the key?”

            “I don’t know,” admitted Ciel.

            “Eh?!” exclaimed the group.

            “Sebastian is the keeper of the key to my room, and only he knows where it’s stored,” said Ciel. “Now that he’s dead, even I couldn’t tell you where to find it.”

            (Y/N) stepped forward. “Young Master, if I may, I can break the doors.”

            “Move.” Grey acted before Ciel could give any directions. With a long swing of his sword, he cut through the doors. The pieces fell to the ground, and everyone stared at him as he held his breakfast plate in one hand with a bored expression. “Let’s take care of this quick, okay? I haven’t had my dessert yet.”

            “Mr. Phelps!” called Arthur as he led the group into the room.

            They turned into the bedroom of Ciel’s quarters. Arthur’s eyes widened. Irene let out a horrified gasp. Woodley and Grimsby grimaced and stepped back. Grey’s eyes were wide. The servants let out a breath.

            Phelps lay on the ground, clutching the carpet with foam on his lips, his face one of struggle and pain.

            He was dead.

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow behind the group. Their nose twitched. Now this was an unanticipated development.

            “How?” said Ciel.

            Arthur knelt by the body, getting to work. “Quite some time has passed since rigor mortis set it.”

            “Are we all having a bad dream or something…?” murmured Grimsby.

            “There is no external trauma as in the other two,” said Athur. His eyes narrowed as he found a mark on Phelps’s neck. “He has what appears to be puncture wounds in the neck! Perhaps he was injected with poison from a needle or the like.”

            “A needle?” Ciel narrowed his eyes.

            (Y/N) peered at the marks. Looks like snake bite to me. But far be it for me to ruin the mortals’ fun.

            “Oh, I say! Lord Earl lives in the most wonderful room!” To the side, Lau and Ran-Mao were rummaging through Ciel’s closet.

            “Don’t rummage around someone else’s quarters as you please!” said Ciel, an irk mark appearing.

            Lau chuckled as he pulled out a Chinese dress. “You’ve held on to the dress I gave you! Have you worn it?”

            “I most certainly have not!” cried Ciel indignantly. Lau had given him it after the undercover investigation during the Jack the Ripper case, and Ciel hadn’t been able to live it down, yet.

            Arthur continued and regained the focus of the group. “The marks could also be said to resemble the tooth marks of some beast or other.”

            (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

            “Bite marks on the neck…Brings to mind Carmilla, doesn’t it?” murmured Irene.

            “By that are you referring to Le Fanu’s vampiric Carmilla?” said Ciel.

            (Y/N) clicked their tongue. Vampires. Terrible little creatures.

            “Yes, are you familiar with it?” said Irene.

            Woodley scoffed. “So you’re saying he was killed by a vampire?! Preposterous!”

            Woodley was correct in that regard. With two demons in the household, a vampire wouldn’t dare approach the manor.

            “Such occult and unscientific occurrences have no place in the nineteenth century!” continued Woodley.

            There he was not correct.

            “2:38 am,” said Arthur, gazing at the broken clock that had been knocked from the side table of Ciel’s bed.

            “That would be the clock I kept at my bedside,” confirmed Ciel.

            “He likely dropped it amidst his throes of agony. It’s broken,” said Arthur.

            “Which would mean that Mr. Phelps died around 2:38?” said Ciel.

            “Yes,” said Arthur.

            “Say!” chirped Lau from in Ciel’s bathroom, still going through his things. “Instead of standing here holding court, why don’t we go sit down and think the situation through? Over a nice cup of tea, perhaps?

            “…Quite right,” said Ciel. “Tanaka, show our guests to the drawing room. (Y/N), prepare the tea.”

            “Yes, my Lord,” said (Y/N).

            “Very good, sir,” said Tanaka.

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Songs in Hazbin Hotel

I've noticed that in Hazbin Hotel, in each episode they have 2 songs (obviously), but of those two, one is a song for drama/plot and the other is a song for fun.

The fun ones tend to be like: simple message, more memorable lyrics, fast paced, the characters are enjoying themselves, has a catchy beat.

The Drama/plot ones tend to be like: hard to describe concept, intense feeling behind the song, song that changes a character in their arc/sets a scene, slow paced, maybe not as memorable lyrics, ballad.

Remember, these songs are styled off of Broadway songs, fun songs are there to describe a character, drama songs describe a scene or part of the story, the character's feeling in that moment.

Let's look at some examples;

Overture: The Opening act so to speak...

Happy day in hell: Drama song, Starts slow moving into a ballad, this song sets the scene and plot of the entire show, how Charlie has hope and optimism despite the terrible landscape, people and circumstances around her.

Hell is Forever: Fun song, Details Adam's character and establishes him as the villain, certified bop with a catchy beat. It could be argued that it establishes the ordeal of the season, but that's in the last 30 seconds, and more importantly, Adam is singing this to have fun and throw his weight around Charlie.

Radio Killed the Video Star: We meet our secondary antagonists and the plot moves forward.

Stayed Gone: Fun song, Made to establish the rivalry between Vox and Alastor, but that was established before hand. This is mainly a song of Alastor and Vox going at each other. It also has a fast pace, and is memorable quippage between the two characters.

It starts with Sorry: Drama song, Slow paced ballad establishing sir Pentious being accepted into the group.

Scrambled eggs: Showcases the other overlords, and hints at things to come down the line (I.e Alastor's scheming and the killable angels)

Respectless: Fun Song, Another Quarreling song with a fast pace, and characters moving to the rhythm, words having a bouncy effect.

Whatever it takes: Establishing Vaggie and Camilla's characters as well as their parallel, you might argue that makes it fun. Of course, the song is slow paced (ballad), and the characters are singing about how the desire to protect the ones they love (intense emotion), as well as their worry about what may come.

Masquerade: An episode covering Angeldust and his tragic life. This one was hard to determine, neither are ballads.

Poison: This song might be considered fun, as I've seen many covers and it's fast paced, good song to dance to. However, it also has Angel being very upset with his situation.

Loser, Baby: This one is slow paced, and has Angel comes to terms with the fact that he's not alone in his situation. However, he also is much happier than the song before.

I've got to say in the end though, I think Poison is the fun song, as it details an already prevalent situation describing Angel's life. Loser, Baby is the song for Drama as it details a main part of Angel's arc going forward (the begininng is like a ballad).

Dad beat Dad: An introduction to Charlie's father and previously mentioned Daddy's issues.

Hell's Greatest Dad: Obviously Fun song, it's a quarreling song, also borrowing elements from "Friend like me," Showcasing Lucifer's power as King and showing the main two men in Charlie's life compete for her attention.

More than anything: Obviously Drama song, very ballad song, this is where Lucifer and Charlie get into the deep seated reasoning behind their actions, showing how much they care about each other, by the end Lucifer decides to support Charlie's endeavors.

Welcome to Heaven: Introducing the other side the afterlife, the home realm of the antagonists, Charlie makes her case, and we learn the truth of Vaggie's origins.

Welcome to Heaven: Fun song, introducing everyone to the atmosphere that is heaven. How is this different from "Happy day in Hell"? It is faster, has a faster pace, and you can tell the voice of Saint Peter, Emily and Sera are enjoying themselves whilst singing, especially Darren.

You Didn't Know: Drama song, mainly slow paced, as truths are revealed and ethics are questioned. Mostly a ballad, except for Adam and Lute with aggressive words and rhythm, Much longer than the other song.

Hello, Rosie: Approach to the innermost cave, smoothing out the final wrinkles before the final act. Bonds are firmly established and a game plan is made.

Out for Love: Fun song, fast paced, establishes what we already know, Vaggie is and should be driven by her love for Charlie, as Camilla was driven by love for her daughters. Vaggie gets her wings back, but they don't play a huge role in the plot and are not discussed in the song.

Ready for this: Drama Song, starts slow and ballad-y, and not as fast paced as "Out for love." Mainly a song to attempt to recruit the army needed to fight the angels, as well as establish her cementing her drive to fight to protect her home. Also hints at Alastor's intentions, but that's negligible.

The Show must go on: The Final act... This one was also hard as both are ballads.

More than Anything reprise: Seeing as this is a reprise of a drama song, it might be drama as well as the characters detailing intense emotions, however the song is quite short and details what we already know.

Finale: This is mirrored to another Drama song, being "Happy day in Hell," but everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, of course it is longer.

In the end, I put "More than anything reprise" as Fun, because it doesn't give us anything except something for shippers. "Finale" I ended up classifying as the drama song because it is setting the final scene, and hinting at what's to come. It also showcases how far everyone has come, which is also plot related.