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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, implied violence, implied emotional and physical abuse, implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 series.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor! This is a collaborative piece written with @isuckatwritingsobenice, whom I share a mutual adoration for Violet Evergarden, the anime and titular character who is in my humble opinion, one of the best written female protagonists I have seen in anime.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going for tonight's broadcast :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment and chaos. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades!

When you had arrived at the hotel with nothing except the clothes on your back and a suitcase that protected your precious Remington typewriter, the Radio Demon would not deny that he was amused to see a sinner who actually saw his advertisement on the television. After all, no one was taking Charlie seriously, and who would? Apparently you did, but for a different reason: you were looking for a job, a purpose. You said so in the interview, and you were willing to learn. When Vagatha asked what would be considered a flaw in your work ethic, you took off your leather gloves and showed her and Charlie the alloy prosthetics that acted as your new limbs after losing them in the war.

Why you still had them and why your appearance was wholly human, you did not know. Would this be considered a flaw? You were not sure either. You are still learning about modern technology, especially the handheld devices called cell phones.

Although the staff was in dire need of someone who could advertise the Hazbin Hotel on the Internet, the princess found something you could do and might be adequate at: gardening. More specifically, being the hotel’s groundskeeper. Someone who can maintain the hotel’s outward appearance and make sure the hell-grass or weeds don’t get too out of control. You stood up from your seat, feet planted together and saluted Charlie, promising that you will do your best in a monotone voice.

The poor dear did get a little flustered from your actions, but Vagatha did not seem to mind, asking you to follow her upstairs so that she could show you your new room and give you the key. Your first day will be tomorrow.

Oh, this will be fun~! Alastor thought with a wide grin. Someone new to antagonize and watch fall into the fiery pits of failure! Husk was starting to bore him anyway.

And he was not disappointed.

He saw you struggle with holding a garden spade, laying down carpets of fresh grass neatly without trying to crush it between your prosthetic limbs, carrying fertilizer and what flowers to plant! These entertaining events happened within the first week of being here. Is he sorry that his shadows purposely swapped the fertilizer bags and replaced the seed bags to plant roses with rat bait? Absolutely not!

The more chaos that he created, the more entertained he will be. The anticipation to see you crumble from the pressure and expectations of dear Vagatha and Charlie is almost palpable, he couldn’t wait!

However, you were not someone who gave up as easily as he hoped you would.

You kept showing up every day at the exact time, and worked in the garden until Niffty had to drag you inside to have lunch. Then you stayed outside for a bit longer, making sure everything was ready for the following day. You even tried to help out in the kitchen, though you were still struggling to properly hold a knife and chop up vegetables for his jambalaya or cracking eggs in a bowl to help Niffty bake a cake at nine o’clock in the evening because she was bored and wanted something sweet.

You carried heavy crates of liquor for Husk and even massaged his temples when he complained of a headache. When you discreetly switched out the liquor in his booze for water one time he held a grudge against you for pulling that stunt for almost a week. He eventually forgave you by preparing a Shirley Temple on the house after you politely rejected a whiskey on the rocks because you did not drink alcohol.

Sir Pentious, the wannabe overlord, was utterly fascinated with your prosthetic limbs and had asked you to let him examine them. That comment earned him a low, menacing growl from Vagatha, spear in hand. The Egg Bois seemed to like you well enough that they tried to help you out in the garden when all they really did was make your job a bit harder. You still thanked them anyway.

Angel Dust tried to take you shopping for a new wardrobe since you always wore the same outfit every day, but his definition of fashion bordered on risque and flaunting his assets. You were not here to flaunt your appearance, you were here to work, but you thanked him anyway. When he came back to the hotel, staggering inside on wobbly legs and his face covered in black-blue bruises, you were the one who caught him and helped him settle on a table as Husk pulled out a first aid kit. You allowed Angel to put all four of his arms around you and cry on your shoulders, carefully placing your skeletal prosthetics around his back.

How is it that a single sinner could empathize with everyone here except him?

This singular thought, this curious idea, is what motivated Alastor to find out more about you. And there is no else in Hell who can spill the tea on someone as accurately as his dear friend Rosie.

A trip to Cannibal Colony was in order~! So he did go there, proclaiming he’ll be back before dinner and ignoring Vagatha’s cursing as well as the princess trying to calm down her short-tempered lover.

As it turned out, he had heard about you, it’s just that the topic in question did not interest him at the time. Rosie conjured up some old newspaper clippings, pointing at the image of you fighting against an exorcist in hand-to-hand combat during the Extermination. This article had been written five years ago, and the one before that? Three years ago. It seemed like you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you fought back because that is what your life had been before; surrounded by violence, vanquishing enemy forces when they crossed your path. Yet when you did make an appearance, everyone in Hell clamored for any scraps of information. Anything to find out who is the mysterious sinner who looked like a human and could rip off an exorcist’s head bare-handed.

Now, you were staying at the hotel trying to put whatever remained of your afterlife together. That is your true purpose and now the Radio Demon knew.

Alastor thanked Rosie for the information and the company, leaving Cannibal Colony in a merry mood. Everything was in place. Everything made perfect sense now.

If you were looking for a way to be useful in his newest project, he can make that happen. All he needs to do is nudge you in the right direction without Charlie and Vagatha around.

They are adorable when they are taking turns being a guard dog around you, you sweet little darling~.

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@chroniccorvus

@imperfectbloodmoon

@doc-tooth

@nixie-writes

@riddle-simp

@tired-of-life-86

@blackmageoffandoms

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an-idyllic-novelist · 3 months

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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.

Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.

If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)

Reblog to support content creators!

Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.

Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way.

So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around.

Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you.

You, who believed in Charlie’s work.

You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.

You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it.

He lost the ability to feel anything years ago.

Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others.

You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much.

In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner. They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk.

When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess.

Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do.

Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day.

When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out.

He saw you cook finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands.

He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War.

Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit.

A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day.

Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it.

Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake whiny bitch.

As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that.

And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.

It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong.

One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel.

Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them.

Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore.

Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no.

That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle.

THUD.

Shnk.

THUD.

C-crack.

THUD.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!”

“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other.

He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army. When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck.

He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply.

Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around scratching, kicking, and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.

The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off him and inhaling deep gulps of precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands.

“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting.

Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right.

“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character.

You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked.

“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”

“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.

“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.

“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”

“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”

“Yes.”

“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”

“Yes.”

“Food for plants.”

“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones.

Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin.

“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?”

Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?

You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of them, they made quick work with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts.

You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too.

Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass.

Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it.

Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards.

They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.

You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be.

“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone.

“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest.

“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.”

Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right. “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering.

He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse.

Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck.

He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”

Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit.

You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”

Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.

“What-”

“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there?

So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below, your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.

You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places.

It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination.

Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his.

He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.”

A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”

You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.

“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”

You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”

“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special.

You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight.

“It’s done.”

“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”

You faltered. “But -”

“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.

Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking.

But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight.

As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms.

“Husk?”

“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass.

“Thank you…for everything.”

His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome."

He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory?

And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens.

What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter.

Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin spoilers #viviziepop #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #cw violence #tw violence #cw cannibalism #tw cannibalism #cw language #tw language #violet evergarden!reader #fem!reader #character!reader

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bugflies00 · 2 months

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christ i can't believe we even still need to make posts like this but if you're genuinely saying shit about how the ABUSE shubble described isn't even that bad i need you to hard block me right now. saying that neurodivergent people bite is just so not the fucking point. yes of course some people bite each other as a sign of affection. biting in itself was never the fucking problem. but it is abusive to intentionally cause someone pain when they've communicated repeatedly they want you to stop. to make up a safeword to use against them. that is abusive full stop in itself, and it wasn't even the only thing shubble described. i don't want to see anymore posts trying to discredit that when shubble has already been through so much.

#im just . apalled #i didnt understand why people kept talking about people defending wilbur because i hadnt seen any like that #but Now Ive Seen (at least some) and jesus fucking christ #alex.rambles.txt #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #tw victim blaming

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eosincuffs · 4 months

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This drabble is my first writing piece, idk if I’ll make it into a fic. I started writing down some thoughts and an exposition for myself and then I was like, this might make a nice lil prologue. Idk tho im a virgin in this. So if what here’s and obligatory ‘pls leave me be, im learning ;-;’

Dishonourably discharged 141 quartet! (also this is an xReader thought I promise)

0.7k words

Their last mission was an unfortunate, grievous endeavour. A negotiation of high profile hostage releases in an abandoned multi-story factory which turned out to be a trap. Even if it cost the terrorist organisation the lives of extraordinarily important extortion-able victims the notorious 141 needed to be wiped at whatever costs, which meant sacrifices had to be made.

Only no-one, not even himself, expected Price to chuck the bomb-covered man off the ledge, 2 stories down to where the hostages were held. It was a split second decision made to save the lives of his men and deal with the consequences later. And deal with the consequences they did. The explosion ripped apart the lower floor indiscriminate of flesh or rusted steel. The old, battered building caved in on itself momentarily, engulfing everything within into a black hole of scrap, wire and human cadaver.

By some miracle, although festering with wounds and decorated with jutted broken bones like arrows out their skin, the 141 lived to tell the tale. Undoubtedly, this would get them discharged for “on the field injuries”. And yes, they were supposed to be medically discharged . It was disappointing that their military careers (their sole drive in life) was over, but, yes, they were supposed to get a fat pension, full healthcare coverage for immediate family, veteran discounts for everything from groceries to mortgages and awards for their sacrifices. They were supposed to live the rest of their lives relaxing, hunting, pursuing unfinished dreams and/or hobbies.

Except the son of one of the hostages rallied the other victim’s families together and incriminated Price for manslaughter. The boys weren’t about to throw their Captain under the bus, disputed the charge despite Price’s pleading, and got incriminated by association. It wasn’t fair, but they were never going to win a trial against a pack of multi-billionaires, no matter the accusation or its validity. There was one small mercy though; because of their connections in the military they were dishonourably discharged instead of imprisoned (and considering that blood and money turn the world, it would probably been for a lifetime). Their records and achievements were wiped, awards taken away. They were left unfit for any veteran benefits and with chronic pain and injuries as the final nail in the coffin, unwanted souvenirs from that god forsaken mission.

Overtaken with hatred and disappointment from both the traumatic event and the experience of their metaphysical lives ending the men unwillingly closed this chapter: abandoned, empty, changed.

Ghost much like his callsign disappeared in the first week after they split, no contact, no goodbye, no nothing.

Gaz went to live with his relatives, trying to figure out his next step.

Price hunkered down with a former military friend and his family.

Soap moved back into his elderly, struggling mother’s small cottage. It’s the reason he went into the military in the first place, to help support his family.

They all knew these were temporary arrangements. The army was their life; no branch or association would take them now, not with the bold, damning DD stamped on their papers. But very little quality employers wanted mentally traumatised men whose chronic and psychic pain rendered them unable to do blue collar work. Yet, non had the education or the drive to be employable in a more specialised, less physical sector.

Was this the end?

Maybe. But the sun shone on Soap’s meadow, illuminated his life and showed him a new way out. He was at the right place, at the right time and managed to bump into you. You really should have just kept walking. Taking pity on the blue-eyed puppy, kicked in the teeth over and over by life’s unforgiving boot should have been a noble act. But feed a dog once and it will keep coming back, and unfortunately, this one has a rabid pack.

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priestessofcreation · 6 months

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To recap:

Cora criticized Regina's love of the equestrian arts

Cora criticized Regina's expression of femininity

Cora criticized Regina's personal priorities (personal fulfillment/love over status)

Cora insisted that her constant criticism of Regina (and all that she likes/thinks/feels/does) is "help"

Cora used magic on Regina even though Regina had told her in the past she does not like it when she does that

Cora wrapped Regina in belts to control her, showing that she will physically abuse her daughter "if she has to"

Cora considered disagreement from Regina the same thing as disobedience

Cora herself only values power, status, and "upwards trajectory"

Henry - despite his courage - could not properly stand up to his wife, be on equal footing with her, or protect his daughter because of the magic that Cora abused

After Regina had saved Snow, Cora literally said to her daughter "Finally, dear, you did something right."

Cora magically changed Regina's clothes without asking her

Cora accepted a marriage proposal for Regina without even consideration what Regina wanted

Cora manipulated a ten-year-old

Cora openly admitted that she views Regina's life as hers because she is the one who "had to make the sacrifices" to get them to where they are - effectively showing narcissistic tendencies

Cora manipulated her own daughter with fake approval

Cora ripped out Daniel's heart right in front of Regina and turned his heart to ash. Cora killed Regina's true love right in front of her.

Are Regina's actions right? No. Are Regina's actions understandable? Well, if you were raised like that, you would be fucked up too.

#regina mills #cora mills #ouat #once upon a time #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw manipulation

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blissfali · 2 months

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I do think shubble is incredibly brave and amazinng for coming out and speaking on her experiences in a public platform. physical Abuse isnt always (often its not even) punching or hitting or slapping. It can take amny different forms. Biting sounds silly wehn you hear it but it becomes very serious very quickly!!! Esp when u consider how strong human teeth are + how quickly infection can occur if the person bleeds, etc. Something “harmless” can always escalate. And shubble did not deserve ANYYY of it i felt like my jaw was open druing the entire stream. As a victim of abuse myself im really proud of shubble for coming out with this.im so glad she got the help she needed too she really deserves the world.

#tw abuse #ask to tag #It sucks when you look back and see how bad it was #for me im still currently going thru it but i still have moments where.m i reflect on things that happejed #where in the moment it seemed silly or illogical to be upset #but then u look back and u realize u had a very real reason to be upset #i felt shubble so much on that #it reallt does make u feel crazy #i hope shes ok!!!!#tw physical abuse

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spop-romanticizes-abuse · 1 month

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catra vs chipped catra: a comparison

someone might have already done it before but i've been meaning to make a post with direct comparisons of the way chipped catra treated adora and the way catra generally treated adora.

because the whole point of a character being mind controlled is that they're completely out of character and does things that they normally wouldn't, right? and according to c//a shippers, catra would have never done any of this if it wasn't for prime.

so let's see how different her behaviour really was.

physical violence? ✅

using her claws on adora? ✅

unwanted manipulative physical touch? ✅

emotional manipulation and victim blaming? ✅

it's so funny that chipped catra only threatens to drop adora off a cliff while catra in her right mind actually does it. multiple times.

even the position and framing in some of these scenes are eerily similar.

i just— how do you mess up a mind control trope so bad? it's one of the easiest ways to add some angst into a story but what's the point if you're mind controlling the villain and making them do the same atrocious things they do in their right mind?

in catra's own words,

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bonefall · 1 month

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I genuinely have no clue how someone can think "getting hit on the ear doesn't hurt"

Getting hit ANYWHERE on the head fucking hurts. I've got plenty of experience with it (various sources) for me personally, top of the head hurts worst (I have a gnarly scar there from a dog bite, very sensitive), but ear is pretty high on the list. Bonus Points for how the sensation made my tinnitus act up

The head is like a thin layer of watermelon rhine wrapped around the most precious organ in your body, and to discourage you from bashing it open, it was wrapped in meat that screams when it gets too close to a dangerous object.

I'm also having a hard time understanding how a person can come to that conclusion. It's... it's right there. You can touch and pull and smack your own ear. You will feel it hurt more than most other parts of your body.

I can only conclude that the anon has never had their ear physically abused, and quite frankly, I hope they never do. I hope they know their lack of personal experience is enviable.

#Anyone who hasn't been clobbered on the ear also probably doesn't understand how LOUD it feels #If you get hit at the wrong angle on the ear canal it feels like the air compresses down into it. It is extremely painful #And it rings afterwards #Cw physical abuse #Tw physical abuse #Physical abuse #Cw child abuse #Tw child abuse #Child abuse #And thats blunt force; i think one of the most painful incidents i went through was getting dragged across a floor by the ear #I've had black eyes. Been slapped in the face. Had a door hit me and been bonked with a car trunk #None of those hurt as much

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worst-mother-throwdown · 1 month

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BRACKET 1

FINAL BATTLE

TW: child abuse, murder, mass murder, physical abuse, torture, waterboarding, electrocution, cult, animal cruelty, animal death

Mrs. Momose propaganda

Titania propaganda

#worst mother throwdown #worst fictional mother throwdown #amane momose #milgram #milgram project #october daye titania #october daye #tw child abuse #tw murder #tw mass murder #tw physical abuse #tw cult #tw waterboarding #tw electrocution #tw animal cruelty #tw animal death

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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Part Two

Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things. Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you.

You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.

He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!

He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone!

But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything.

Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him.

So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others.

Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished.

You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace.

On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind.

She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”

“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.”

Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset. It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel.

Yes, it is better this way.

That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness.

Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head.

He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this. He needed to speak to you. Discreetly.

However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.

Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it.

He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off.

“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.”

The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.”

“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”

You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”

He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”

“Because I know the truth.”

Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree.

“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.”

The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze.

“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”

“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.”

In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire.

“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.”

“Release me.”

“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW

“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master.

So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?

In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.

What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door.

He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.

He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again.

Taglist

@no1sillybilly

@faux-ecrivain

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #yandere x reader #forbidden-sunlight #yandere male #yandere #ns.fw #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #tw possessive behavior #cw possessiveness #hazbin hotel spoilers #violet evergarden!reader #character!reader

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eway · 4 months

Text

Ok so anyone who has read my fic Nightmares knows I headcanon that Blaise was physically abusive to Sebastian. Besides personality of Blaise I didn't think it had much ground in canon, until I saw this sequence again

Maybe I'm looking too deep into it, but I feel the fact that Sebastian instinctively shields himself when his father approaches is very telling.

At this point, Blaise can't really hurt him because there are witnesses around. So this is on instinct.

Also, I do think that if Sebastian had gone with Blaise back home like Blaise suggested, Sebastian would have "disappeared".

Yeah I hate Blaise Debeste.

#cw child abuse #tw child abuse #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #Ace Attorney #ace attorney spoilers #Ace Attorney Investigations 2 #Yumihiko Ichiyanagi #Sebastian Debeste #Bansai Ichiyanagi #Blaise Debeste #Gyakuten Kenji #Gyakuten Kenji 2 #Ace Attorney Investigations #eway talks

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ssadumba55 · 10 months

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The Gang Dealing with a New Traumatized Toy! Reader

Request: headcanons for Toy Story, specifically platonic separate headcanons for Woody, Jessie, Buzz and If you can then also Bo Beep with a 13 y/o toy gender neutral reader that comes to Andy's room pretty traumatized from their last home. (because they've spent their live in a home with abusive parents towards the child that owned them) They tend to flinch at almost everything and is very scared of yelling and/or loud noises, but somehow feels safe when they're with Woody/Jessie/Buzz/Bo and doesn't want to leave their side because they feel protected and at home when they're with them?

tw mentions of ab//se, both physical and verbal

General Headcanons for What Happened Before You End up In Andy's room

It had been a long road to get to Andy's room in the first place. Back at your old owner's house, you'd been a gift to the sweet little girl, Lucy, from her mother.

It was one of those rare moments when she had actually been happy. From the moment you were unpackaged and she held you, you knew you loved her more than anything else in the world.

Late nights were spent hidden under beds or in closets, being clutched to her chest. Any loud noise made the two of you flinch. It was your job to be the protector, so you tried your best. But there's only so much a toy can do

The other few toys strewn in the room appreciated your efforts though, they had been in torment far longer than you

The best times for Lucy was when she went to school, because there she was away from her parents and their harsh words and even harsher hands

Everyday you waited eagerly by the window for her to come home. You didn't get the same luxurious daily escape, but you were grateful she did.

One day, she never did come home. A stranger in a vehicle pulled up and came in the house. She talked to Mom and Dad, told them that your little girl could never come here again. Something about bruises found at school...

You never saw her again. It took a while, but eventually Mom and Dad gave all the toys, including you to a thrift store. You sat on the shelf grateful that your little girl got out but sad you couldn't go with her

"Mom! Oh! Mom! Look!" A little boy lifted you from your shelf with all the gentleness and reverence only a kid could show a treasured toy. He excitedly held you up

"That's just the one you've been looking for!" A woman smiled, ruffling her boys hair affectionately. You felt sick. You knew what happened to kids behind closed doors but your face did not move

That day, you became Andy's toy. He rushed home, scrawling his name on the bottom of your foot carefully

You were still waiting for the other shoe to drop

Woody

Woody is a natural protector, so it isn't farfetched that you immediately latched onto him when you first arrive in Andy's room

Even though you appear much younger then the rest of the toys in your new home, it’s obvious to all of them that you’ve been through much more. The most obvious sign being the little flinches you have when loud noises happen

It's Woody's job to ensure the safety of all the toys in the room, including you

He doesn't mind that you're basically his shadow at all, if you're on your own at any point he may even offer you to come along with him

Sometimes, you like to hide in the closet or under the bed. It's quiet. It reminds you of safety. Woody always makes time in his busy schedule to join you. He never asks why you do it, he just joins you to make sure you're okay

Some of the other toys can be a little mean without realizing it, he always makes sure to set them straight when he hears someone talking about you, it's not your fault you are the way you are

One day, you work up the nerve to tell him what happened with your old kid. And he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. Promises that as long as you're in Andy's room you'll never have to worry about that again

He calls you his little deputy, and if you're feeling particularly down he may even let you wear his hat

Seriously, he adores you and you adore him just as much! He is such a softie, even though he tries to pretend he isn't. If you want or need anything he will get/do it for you.

Jessie

Jessie is a traumatized toy, so she knows another traumatized toy when she sees one. She will definitely latch onto you before you can latch onto her

When she finds out your trigger is loud noises/yelling, she tries her best to keep her voice down (which is hard because she likes to be loud), she knows what it's like to have to suffer through something that makes you feel that way and she doesn't want you to have to feel that way

If yelling or loud noises are unavoidable, then she will find a safe quiet spot or offer her comfort. Holding your hand, an arm around your shoulders, whatever you need.

She will absolutely let you tag along with whatever she does, she might even teach you how to do some things.

And to comfort you, make you feel less alone, she'll tell you about Emily. When you're comfortable, you tell her about Lucy. And the two of you commiserate in old owners together, even if it's not exactly the same

If there's ever a situation where you need to be in a tight space or a box, you always offer the same comfort back to her because she does so much for you.

She will never make fun of you or push you out of your comfort zone if you don't want to be, she'll just be there cheering you on when you do feel like making progress.

And she's a hugger, so hugs will always be given. She loves having you around more than anything and would do anything to make sure you feel safe in Andy's room.

Buzz

Buzz isn't dumb, but he can be a little clueless so when you first start following him around everywhere/clinging to him, he might be more than a little confused.

He might even find it a little annoying or weird, but overtime (and potentially with his friends' help) he will definitely realize that you do it because you feel safe around him

Despite knowing he's a toy now, being your safety net will fill him with a sense of pride and duty, knowing that he's fulfilling his destiny as a space ranger

He makes you a little helmet, not only so you can be like him but so you can use it to muffle/tune out loud sounds that you don't like or that scare you

And he'll make up space stories to calm you down if you happen to freak out a little or get super anxious.

The journey to recovery is a long one, but he wants to make sure you're comfortable and safe during it.

He will also hype you up and remind you how strong you are, especially in moments when you feel like everything is too much. He believes in you and he's proud of you for coming such a long way.

If you eventually feel comfortable telling him why you're upset, the idea of parents like that would keep him up at night. He had no idea people like that could even exist, having always been Andy's toy.

He reminds you all the time that they can't hurt you ever again and that you're safe now

Bo Peep

She will adore you and feel so honoured that you feel safe around her, even though it isn't a huge surprise, after all she is a nursery lamp. It's her job to stand watch and make children feel safe.

Her soft voice and gentle demeanor are definitely what draws you to her, she never yells and as a result you feel safest with her because of that

If other toys are yelling or things become too overwhelming, she'll take you far from it and count sheep with you until you feel better

She will sing lullabies to you too if you ask her too, she doesn't mind being a comforting figure for you.

When she finds out the reason you're upset and guarded, all she'll want is to protect you. To shield you from everyone and everything that has ever hurt you and to make you feel better.

She never lets you out of her sight, the two of you spend long amounts of time together, talking or playing with her sheep. You love how calm she is compared to everyone else in the room.

She always seems to know something is wrong, before you actually say anything is wrong. It's like she can read your mind.

And if nightmares are a problem, she'll stay up with you all night just to make sure you always have someone to support you/in your corner.

She knows you need time to heal and she's grateful you decided to include her in that journey

#disney imagine #pixar imagine #toy story imagine #disney x reader #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral reader #disney headcanons #woody x reader #buzz lightyear x reader #bo peep x reader #jessie x reader #jessie imagine #bo peep imagine #woody imagine #buzz lightyear imagine #tw abuse #tw verbal abuse #tw physical abuse

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writingforstraykids · 4 months

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Hii, can you write something Minchan x reader where Minho gets out of an abusive relationship and ends up at Chan's/your place? 🥺

A/N: Hey there, this started as a short drabble before I edited it and turned this into a fic. I hope this is what you wanted and you like it. Thank you for the request💕🥰

Second Chance

Word Count: 4725

Summary: Chan and you help Minho the night he gets out of his abusive relationship. Due to your shared past Minho seems anxious to intrude. A year later things seem to be going well until a situation escalates and triggers a panic attack.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, tw!physical abuse, tw!emotional abuse, tw!panic attack, bruises, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, poly!skz

You hum softly against your boyfriend's lips, indulging the warmth of his body against yours. You feel calm and loved here with him in the safety of your home. Smiling, you brush back his curls and nudge his nose with yours. "Come on now, you promised Min that dinner ages ago."

"Didn't I tell you? He texted me half an hour ago that he can't make it tonight," Chan says and kisses you lovingly. "That means I have time for you tonight, baby."

You frown softly as Chan starts kissing down your neck. "You think he's okay?"

"He didn't say anything else," Chan mumbles against your skin.

"Yeah, but-," you start and stop as he pulls back with a groan.

"Please, I don't want to think about our ex when I'm kissing you," he tells you.

"You mean our best friend, dummy," you giggle and Chan laughs, giving in. "I'm just worried. It isn't like him to cancel plans last minute without a reason."

"I don't know, maybe his boyfriend had plans?" he asks and you huff softly. "I know you don't like that guy, but-."

"You've seen the bruises, Channie, something's off," you say firmly, thinking of the last time Minho visited. He looked tired, sad even, and there had been a heavy bruise on his wrist that looked like someone grabbed him too hard. Chan asked him about it of course, but dropped it at how defensive Minho became.

"Listen, doll, he'll let us know if something's off," Chan says.

"Not when it's what I think it is," you shake your head. "What if he's being manipulated into thinking it's his fault? Or if he's too embarrassed to tell you? You know how hard it is for him to open up and-."

"Fucks sake," he climbs off the bed and searches for his phone. "I'm sure he's…," he starts and his face falls looking at his screen.

"Please don't tell me I was right," you whisper.

"I'm…Minho called. Ten times in the last twenty minutes," he says worriedly.

"Shit, you think they got into a fight?" you ask shocked.

"I don't know," he says and quickly puts on his sneakers, searching for his keys. His phone goes off, loudly this time as Chan had unmuted it. "Minho, what's wrong?" he asks worriedly and puts him on speaker.

"Chan, hyung, can I stay at yours? Just for tonight," Minho says shakily, glancing across his shoulder as he walks down the street to your apartment. "I'm so sorry about this but it's kind of an emergency," he rambles on.

"Yeah, sure, do you need me to pick you up?" he asks worriedly.

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea," Minho shakes his head and quickens his steps as someone walks down the street behind him, getting closer. "I'll be there in a minute anyways."

"You're driving here?" Chan asks.

"No," Minho swallows. "Don't know where my drivers license is. Or my keys. You know me, I tend to misplace my stuff," he laughs it off, almost choking on it.

Chan exchanges a meaningful glance with you. Minho did not misplace his stuff often. "Okay, just ring the bell when you're here, Y/N will buzz you in," he says.

"Chan," Minho bursts out panicked, closing his eyes for a second to remind himself to stay calm. "Please don't hang up yet," he pleads and looks back once more realizing the guy behind him is his boyfriend. "Fuck, no," he whispers.

"What's wrong?" Chan asks, eyes widening as Minho doesn't answer before yelping in pain. Chan drops his phone and races off, leaving your front door open.

You grab Chan's phone and rush to the door, waiting there anxiously. "Min?" you ask worriedly and only hear something crash to the ground, suspecting it was his phone.

Minho winces in pain as his boyfriend grabs his hair forcefully and tries to get away from him. "Please, stop," he begs, hot tears already filling his eyes again and spilling down his cheeks.

"Who the fuck allowed you to leave, huh? You have nowhere to go, you need me to function because you're too dumb to do it on your own," he shouts at him and punches him into the stomach. "Why the fuck would you run off?"

He groans surprised, fresh tears shooting into his eyes. "Please, I'm so sorry," he begs. Minho bends over in pain but doesn't get far due to the harsh tug at his hair. He chokes on his sobs and braces himself for the next hit.

"Let go of him!" Chan snaps as soon as he reaches them.

"Channie," Minho whimpers in fear, wincing as his boyfriend grabs his chin forcefully.

"Seriously? You're still not over him?" he asks darkly and Minho's eyes flicker anxiously. "Out of everyone you call him. I knew you'd cheat on me."

"I didn't-," Minho starts weakly and flinches heavily when Chan's suddenly next to him, one hand on his lower back.

"I won't say it again, let go of him," Chan says firmly.

"I won't do shit," he tells him sharply. "This is my boyfriend, Chan, back off."

"Alright then," Chan says and with a swift move he punches him right into the face, delivering another forceful hit into his stomach.

Minho backs away as soon as his hold on him lessens and hides behind Chan, anxiously grabbing the hem of Chan's shirt. "Chan," he whispers. "Chan, we should leave."

"Get inside, I'll be there in a minute," Chan tells him.

"Channie he has a knife," Minho begs him through tears.

Chan reaches back for him and takes his hand, eyeing the man in front of him. "Minho, run," he says and pulls him with him. Chan pulls the front door closed behind them and follows Minho, who's already stumbling up the stairs to your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you see him rushing up the stairs, tears streaming down his face. "Minho," you say shocked as he gets closer and you notice how hard he's shaking.

Chan reaches the door only seconds later and gently shoves Minho inside. "Come on, let's get inside and close that door."

Minho doesn't get far, sliding down against a wall in your hallway as soon as the door's closed. He pulls his legs to his chest, whimpering as he rocks himself, trying to calm down. Heavy sobs shake his body as he tries to hold them back and his breathing quickens.

You subconsciously grab Chan's hand, too shocked to move for a moment as you watch him breaking down. That's a very rare side of Minho. You squint your eyes as Minho messily wipes his cheeks and you can see the bruised skin beneath the makeup he put on to hide them. Your heart sinks to your stomach as you take a few steps forward and crouch down in front of him, keeping your distance. "Minnie?" you ask softly and after the third time he snaps out of his state and stares at you with wide eyes. "Minnie, what happened?" you ask gently, barely noticing Chan sitting on the floor next to you.

"Please don't tell anyone," he presses out, glancing from you to Chan. "You can't," he whimpers.

"Don't tell anyone what?" Chan asks calmly. He knows what he saw out there but did Minho?

"That we had a fight. No one can know," he says desperately.

"Why?" Chan asks patiently and fear flickers in Minho's eyes. "What happens if someone knows?"

Minho shakes his head rapidly, backing further away against the wall. "Please don't."

"What?" Chan asks and reaches out for him, placing his hand on his knee.

Minho whimpers in fear, flinching heavily, and pushes himself up. "This was a mistake," he says and stumbles toward your door. "Sorry for bothering you two."

"No, Min, you're not bothering us," you try to get up but Chan holds you back, reading the situation better than you.

"Kitten?" he asks and Minho stops in his tracks at that old term of endearment. "Please stay? You're safe here, we don't have to talk about it today, I promise."

Minho hugs himself and glances at the door, torn between his options. "I-uhm-I don't know if…," he trails off meeting your worried eyes.

"It's okay, you can stay," you assure him gently. "We have all the time you need."

"It's fine, I'll just go back home," he chokes on the last word, his eyes betraying him.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Chan tells him gently.

"Listen, Chan, just because things with you were different doesn't mean it's all bad," Minho grows defensive.

"Different? You mean because I didn't hit you in the middle of the street?" he asks and you contort your face, unsure of how Minho would take that. "Come on, you know better than that. You don't deserve to be treated this way."

"Yes, I do," Minho whispers. "I deserve every little bit of it because it's my own fault I gave up on something good. I gave up on you."

"Sometimes things don't work the way we want them to…but you didn't give up on us. And we won't give up on you now," Chan says firmly.

Minho's face falls in a sob as he gives in. "Channie," he whimpers and Chan gets up slowly.

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks caringly and Minho nods anxiously. "Okay, deep breaths," he says as he steps closer and Minho subconsciously takes a step back. "I'm here, it's okay," he promises softly, holding his hand out for him. "It's Channie, remember?" he asks soothingly and Minho nods, seeming as if he has to process that information first. Chan very gently places his hands on Minho's shoulders first before fondling down his arms. "Easy there," he whispers and takes another step forward, carefully wrapping his arms around him. "That's okay, kitten?"

Minho nods weakly and buries his face in his shoulder, hugging him back hesitantly. "I can't breathe," he whispers, clutching his shirt as he feels the panic still boiling deep inside of him.

"Y/N, come here," Chan tells you, still keeping his volume down. "Is it okay if Y/N hugs you too?" he asks, soothingly rubbing his back. "You need to feel some kind of weight or pressure to calm down right?"

Minho bites back a sob, hearing that Chan still remembers that. "Yeah," he answers shakily and sucks in a sharp breath.

You follow Chan's instructions, stepping behind Minho and hugging him as well. You and Chan trap him between your bodies and hug him tightly. "Okay, Minnie, now breathe in deep through your nose…and out through the mouth. Deep breaths," you tell him, guiding him through it. You have witnessed him panicking once before after their video shoot high up on that helicopter landing platform. It feels like ages ago.

Minho grows calmer in your hold after a while, his breathing calms and his body stops shaking. Instead he's shivering with exhaustion and the adrenaline leaving his body. "I promise I'll be gone tomorrow," he tells you quietly.

"We'll talk about that tomorrow. One step at a time, okay?" Chan says soothingly and exchanges a worried look with you. "Let's go and sit down?"

"That sounds like a good idea," you nod, gently nudging Minho forward into your apartment. You don't have to tell him the directions, this has been his home before after all. You go to grab some warm blankets and Chan takes his laptop and headphones from the sofa to make some room. Minho stands still in the middle of your living room, anxiously fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. "Chan, why don't you go and help Min put on some comfy clothes?"

Chan turns to look at you and glancing at Minho makes him realize your intention. "Sure, come on," he says and carefully takes his hand pulling him with him. Minho follows him until they reach your bedroom and he comes to a sudden stop. "Min?" he asks.

"I-uh-I'm sorry," he shakes his head, following him inside. The amount of memories crashing down on him steals his breath for a moment. It's still the same bed, curtains and even the pictures of his cats are still on your desk in the corner. He remembers the many intimate moments he spent here with both you and Chan, the many nights and lazy mornings. "It's too much," he whispers.

Chan closes the closet and tilts his head at him. "What is?"

"This here," he says, vaguely waving through the room. "I can't go back to his place, because that's not home. This isn't either because it was before I fucked it all up. I have nowhere to go and-," tears brim his eyes all over again and he huffs at himself in utter frustration. "God, I'm so stupid."

Chan sits down at the edge of the bed and pats the space next to him. "Come here," he says and after a moment of hesitation he does. "I know you're going through shit right now, your feelings are all over the place and you're scared and confused. But you're not alone, you don't have to be."

Minho chews on his lower lip and stares down as Chan carefully takes his hand again. "He was right."

"About what?" he asks calmly.

"I am still in love with the two of you. I do think about what I lost here a lot…but I never told him that," he confesses quietly. "I was so scared that things wouldn't work out or our fans wouldn't accept us the way we were that I freaked out, destroying the thing I was so scared of losing."

Chan swallows softly and fondles his knuckles as he listens. "How long has this been going on?"

"What? The screaming? The hitting? The hairpulling?" Minho asks sarcastically before exhaling loudly. "A month into the relationship."

"A-Minho that's been five months," Chan exclaims in shock.

"I know," he nods and stares into the distance. "I felt like I deserved it. He encouraged that and I got stuck in this shitty cycle of wanting to be useful for that person you fear but strangely still love."

"What did he do?" Chan asks and a shadow travels over Minho's face.

"Not tonight," he shakes his head and gives him a sad smile. "If that's okay."

"Okay, yeah, of course," Chan nods quickly. "You don't have to say anything but…we love you too. And we miss you, we miss your dumb jokes and sassy comments. We miss your adorable laugh and Y/N misses you every time she has to glam up all on her own. So, we think about you a lot as well. What I'm trying to say is that if you'd ever feel ready, we're there. If not, we'll always be your friends and this means you can stay with us for as long as you want to, no matter what you choose. It's your choice, okay?"

"Okay," he whispers and drops his head, burying his face in his shoulder.

"But that's also not something to discuss tonight," Chan says, planting a tiny kiss on his hair. "Just wanted you to know you're always welcome here."

Minho squeezes his hand tightly. "Thank you."

Chan stays there with him for another while, mindlessly rubbing his knuckles and whispering soothing nonsense to him from time to time. He doesn't know how long they stay there like this but it seems to help Minho's body calm down. You come to look for them after a while, your expression softening seeing them.

You sit down at Minho's other side and gently pat his thigh. "Hey there, doing a little better?"

He hums gently and blindly reaches out for your hand, squeezing it as he finds it. "I love you, you know that right?" he asks and you're too stunned to answer for a second.

"I-uh-yeah, I guess I do," you stammer and Chan flashes you a compassionate smile.

Minho pulls away from Chan's shoulder and turns to look at. "I know I fucked up, Y/N, even if you say I didn't. I didn't hurt you on purpose."

"I know," you say quietly.

"I just…I was scared," Minho says and lets go of Chan's and your hands. "And now I'm back here and I've never been more scared in my life before," he admits shakily and rubs his thighs, trying to steady himself.

"He can't hurt you here, I promise," you try to soothe him.

"I'm scared of what that shit did to me," he shakes his head. "I'm scared of him. I'm scared to lose you because I'll be a burden now…and it fucking terrifies me that I'm so open and honest about my feelings right now," he adds at the end making you all laugh.

"That means you're making progress," you say and a weak smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"We can work this all out together…and if there are things we can't deal with we'll find someone who can," Chan adds and Minho nods thankfully.

"I want you to keep that up and be very clear about your boundaries with us, okay?" you ask. "We don't want to trigger anything or make you feel uncomfortable."

"I can try," Minho promises bravely.

"And don't hesitate asking us if you need anything," Chan continues.

"I will," he nods.

You pull him into a hug and bury your face in his hair, tears brimming your eyes as he hugs you back tightly. "We got you, Minnie."

One year later

Chan paces your shared apartment, phone clutched in his hand, as he tries to stay calm. You can tell he has trouble doing so, noticing the way his hands shake, his chest heaves with irregular breaths, and the worry clouding his usually soft brown eyes. Your boyfriend checks the time once again, a low groan slipping from his lips as he realizes only five minutes have passed since he last checked.

“Channie,” you say very gently, and he stops, staring at you with wide eyes. “Come here, sit down for a minute.”

“Can’t,” he shakes his head and continues the reckless pace from before.

“I’m sure he’s alright,” you say, trying to convince yourself at the same time.

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head firmly. “What if that asshole met him somewhere and-” his voice breaks, and he quickly shuts his mouth again.

“Chan,” you say firmly. “We can’t keep on expecting the worst. Nothing has happened in a year. Min’s an adult, he can do what he wants. If he decides to stay away for a whole day, then that’s his choice.”

“He’s not thinking straight at the moment, you know that. Now that he's been with us for a whole year everything comes up again. He’s emotional; he keeps on seeking our help, trying not to bother us, and I need to keep him safe, I-” he breaks off again as he meets your eyes.

“Stop making what happened to him your fault,” you tell him. “I know he means a lot to you, I know you want to keep him safe, but stop blaming yourself for what his ex did.”

“He called me Y/N. Repeatedly. I was busy making out with you as this asshole hurt him,” he says, getting more emotional with every passing minute. “And still, he came here as soon as he could.”

You have enough and slip off your chair, making your way over to him. “That’s because he trusts you…and sometimes you have to trust him too,” you say and offer him a hug.

Chan pulls you into his arms and buries his face in your hair. He can feel your heart racing against his chest and snorts. “So much to staying calm.”

“It’s not that I’m not worried myself, Channie,” you remind him calmly.

You still remember the night one year ago as if it was yesterday. Not a night has passed since then without him joining the two of you in your bed at night, first as your friend, then in search for the love he thought he lost. Time healed the bruises, the split lip but not the scars left on his heart, and the fear that was still deep in his bones. By now you were finding your routine as a throuple but there was still a lot to figure out. So, of course, Chan gets worried when Minho doesn’t show up for a whole day and doesn’t answer his phone.

The front door to your apartment opens, and you look up surprised as Minho strolls in calmly, two bags in his hand, keys in the other. He frowns softly as he spots the two of you and tilts his head at you, meeting your eyes. "You're okay?"

Chan lets go of you, and you can tell his worries get replaced by anger, which is also a very familiar part of him worrying to you. “Where the fuck have you been?” he asks firmly.

“What?” Minho asks confused, flinching at the harsh tone.

“I tried calling you for like a hundred times, Min. I’ve been worried sick all day about you!” Chan goes on, letting his anger flow freely now.

"Chan," you try gently.

Minho’s stomach turns painfully as the common fear of what is about to unfold takes hold of him. He puts down the bags shakily, bracing himself for all the hurtful words that would leave his hyung's mouth at any second. He deserves every one of them. "I-I turned off my phone," he says quietly.

"You can't be serious," Chan snaps, and you glance at him worriedly. "I told you always to keep that damn thing close so I can find you when something happens."

"I-I'm sorry, hyung," Minho says shakily, staring at the floor in front of him. "I know that was stupid. I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid, Min," you chime in gently, but the younger male shakes his head firmly.

"I am," he presses out, body shaking in fear as he feels put back into a situation he thought he escaped.

"I told you so often," Chan insists tiredly, voice growing more gentle. "How could you forget that?"

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, tears shooting to his eyes and spilling right down his cheeks. "I-I should've told you. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," he starts, sounding a little panicked. "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry I worried you. Please don't punish me."

Chan's whole demeanor changes at that sudden breakdown, face falling. "Fuck," he breathes out, realizing how triggering this must've been. "Minho, no one is going to punish you," he says gently, making his way over, not knowing that being soft was exactly what Minho got before the snap.

Minho subconsciously takes a step back, shivering. "Please, I'll do better, I promise," he tries to save himself. Stumbling back blindly, he trips over Chan's backpack and falls backward, hitting his head at the front door as he crashes onto the ground.

"Shit," you breathe out shocked.

By the time Chan reaches him to help him up, he's sobbing, curling up on the floor and protecting his head. "Min, hey, hey, it's okay," Chan tries, crouching down. The moment he touches him, Minho screams in fear, making him flinch back.

"Please," he sobs, making himself even smaller.

Chan looks back at you, eyes filling with tears and practically screaming for help. He backs away quietly from Minho as you make your way over.

You crouch down next to him and hesitantly place your hand on his lower back. "Minnie," you say soothingly, knowing no one else but Chan and you called him that. "Minnie, angel, you're safe. I'm here, no one can hurt you, okay?" Your voice breaks through the fog of panic, and Minho scrambles onto his knees, lunging forward and holding onto you tightly. You hold onto him just as tight, soothingly running your hand through his hair. "Shh, it's okay," you whisper and rock him in your arms. "It's okay, you're safe."

Minho sobs into your sweater, holding onto you for dear life. He tries focusing on your scent, how your hair feels beneath his fingertips, and how your body is warm against his. He tries pushing all the dark memories aside, reminding himself that he is, in fact, safe. Safe in your warm embrace.

You glance over at Chan, who watches you, still standing in the same spot. The guilt in his eyes is overwhelming, and he doesn't bother wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. You hold out your hand for him, but he shakes his head weakly. "Channie babe, come here," you say soothingly. "Chan was just worried, he didn't mean to upset you, dear," you say toward Minho, and the younger one nods bravely. "Come on," you encourage your boyfriend.

Chan slowly makes his way over, shaking as he sits beside you. "Minnie, I'm so sorry," he presses out, hesitantly rubbing his back.

Minho pulls back and looks at him through teary eyes. "Something's wrong with me," he whispers, and Chan searches his eyes confused. "You'd never hurt me."

Chan firmly shakes his head. "Never," he promises. "I'm sorry I got mad."

Minho straddles his lap, burying his face in Chan's shoulder. He wraps his arms around his neck and sniffles softly. "No, I'm sorry for disappearing," he says shakily.

Chan hugs him tight, burying his face in his hair and closing his eyes. He gently runs his hand over his back before fondling his head. "Does it still hurt?" he asks, and Minho shakes his head.

You watch them with a gentle smile, knowing how much they mean to each other. Minho pulls back after a while, pressing their foreheads together with a weak laugh. "I'm sorry, Channie love, I know I worried you."

"Stop that now," he says gently, rubbing his sides soothingly. "I know you didn't mean to."

"Thank you for always trying to keep me safe," he tells him, cupping his face.

"Of course," your boyfriend whispers.

Minho wraps him back into his arms and closes his eyes for a moment before speaking up. "I just wanted to take a walk this morning, but then he bombarded me with messages, having another fake account. I got upset, turned my phone off, and kept on walking around aimlessly for hours. I completely forgot the time."

"That's okay, Min, it happens," you assure him, sitting down next to them.

Minho flashes you a weak smile and squeezes your hand gently. "I should've told you guys. I wasn't thinking."

"Happens," Chan nods and soothingly rubs his thighs.

Minho meets his eyes again and remains silent for a while, sinking deeper into that warm feeling of comfort and safety. "I actually bought dinner on the way back."

You giggle softly and pat his shoulder. "That's sweet."

"And uhm…I saw something that seemed fitting for the two of you," he says, ears burning up a little as he climbs off Chan's lap. Minho grabs the smaller bag and takes out two small boxes, handing the longer one to you.

Chan opens his and takes out a beautiful silver bracelet with a small pendant in the middle. There's a heart-shaped hole in the pendant, and opening your box, you know why: the heart's attached to a necklace. "Oh my God, that's so cute," you beam at him. Chan helps you put it on, and Minho watches you with a soft smile. "Where's yours?" you ask and Minho frowns softly.

"I-uhm…I shouldn't-," he shakes his head, swallowing softly at your confused expressions.

"Kitten, you're a part of us," Chan says softly and Minho's eyes brim with tears again.

"But-," he starts out weakly.

"We love you. This is your home, angel," you tell him and smile as Chan caresses his cheek and Minho instinctively leans into it.

"We'll go back there tomorrow and find something fitting for you," Chan suggests.

A hot tear falls down Minho's cheek as he watches the two of you amazed. "Okay," he whispers and closes his eyes as Chan plants a soft kiss on his hair. He giggles softly as you kiss the tip of his nose and smiles at the two of you through his tears. "I love you two so much."

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meaningofaeons · 10 months

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Ehhh hi! I love your work so i wanted to ask for hcs with star rail men and kafka (choose whoever you want) with gn!reader or s/o who has a lot of childhood trauma. I mean brutal emotional and physical abuse from a really young age, a lot of scars, blood, sa, ect. How would (star rail character) react to s/o telling them about their past/ seeing s/o's scars? Pls angst🙏. If you dont like the request, just ignore this. Have a nice day/night! -anon

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ old scars die hard

⊹ character(s) - sampo koski, kafka, jing yuan ⊹ word count - 1.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, TW!! themes of abuse both emotional and physical, self-harm tendencies (not touched on as much but possibly implied?), etc. please read with caution and heed the warnings!!!

hi anon omg I hope you're okay (ﾐዎ ﻌ ዎﾐ)ﾉ I don't know whether this is personal to you and your experiences or not but regardless!! this req touched me I know it's been sitting in my ask box for a while but I wanted to do it proper justice. I love you anon and I hope you are doing well <3!!! thanks for the req!

⊹ Sampo Koski

He's not super concerned at first when he sees the first signs of scars

I mean, he's had his fair share of run-ins with disgruntled "customers". His scars are more numerous than yours, he'd assume.

That is, until he remembers you're not really in the same line of fire that he can typically find himself in

That's what gets him wondering.

Sampo's not really one to get into emotional vulnerability, and I don't think he'd ask you first

Unless of course, you started to gain new ones under his watch

If he's known you for a while, I feel like he'd have questioned it often until you told him to stop, and then he'd be kind of reluctant to bring it up again.

However, if you two are fairly new friends/partners, he'd dance around the issue but try to confront it regardless.

Especially if the abuse is current from people currently in your life or something you recently inflicted on yourself, he'd try to mention/address it in a roundabout way.

"That doesn't look so hot, Y/N! Might wanna see Miss Nat for it. What, you getting into the business of scam—aheh, I mean, customer service—too?"

Sampo tries to keep it light, but when he notices the way you tremble at the acknowledgement he makes of your wounds, his face crumples.

He's instantly apologizing, instantly doing anything to make you feel even a little better.

Offering to take you out to lunch, buy you something nice, or just get some takeout food and watch a show together.

I feel like Sampo, being relatively unequipped to seriously handle stuff like this (considering he's very much a humor-cope kind of person) would be especially frantic in trying to assuage your troubles

Whatever you want! Seriously, he'll bend over backwards for you, especially when you're vulnerable.

Sampo Koski may not be the most sensitive or empathetic, but he knows when to hold the quips and jokes.

He's a very good listener, though. It's honestly pretty shocking.

Now, Sampo's not much of a violent criminal.

Yes, he's a conman, but usually his plans involve escape over actual fighting back.

Still, when he hears about those who have made you suffer, he's not going to stand by.

In the cover of night, after tending to your wounds (both physical and emotional), he'd be off.

He won't kill them. But Sampo sure as hell will make sure they wouldn't even think of coming within five miles of you ever again.

And you'll never find out about it, either.

All that will happen is your life improving because your abuser will be out of it, and Sampo is perfectly content melding back into his usual joking self, bringing as much normalcy to your more peaceful life as he can.

⊹ Kafka

At first, I think Kafka sees your scars/wounds and is kind of... uninterested? Or perhaps less uninterested and more just unconcerned.

Sure, there's questions and thoughts to be had, but everyone has their pasts—especially those among the Stellaron Hunters.

However, over time and with careful, calm observation, Kafka notices more about you.

She takes a special interest in you that she doesn't quite hold with her other fellow Stellaron Hunters.

How you apologize endlessly over small mistakes...

Or even how you flinched back when Silver Wolf of all people got angry and shouted at one of her video games.

I mean, Silver Wolf! The smallest of the Stellaron Hunters—outside of her abilities in manipulating the data of reality and hacking, she physically couldn't hurt a fly.

So, Kafka takes matters into her own hands.

She's pretty upfront, seeing no reason in beating around the bush.

She was content before in letting it slide as "everyone has their secrets", but she eventually develops something akin to concern for your situation.

"Darling, I just had a few small questions for you... Don't feel pressured to answer if you're not inclined."

The second half of her sentence shocked her a bit.

She has abilities relating to hypnotic suggestion—if there's something she wanted to hear or know, there's no reason she couldn't acquire it. And if there's something she wanted someone to listen to and obey, she could do it with no questions from the other party.

So really, it was awe-inspiring that she afforded you the luxury of choice here.

After hearing what happened to you, Kafka is not the type to go on a vengeance-path.

She knows the past is the past, and that you're with the Stellaron Hunters now, so your abuser is long gone from reach.

I think Kafka mostly focuses on comforting you in the moment.

Especially if you're partners, she'd be very inclined to give you a shoulder to lean on, a person to cry to.

Kafka may seem flippant, but she holds a deep-seated affection for you and she treats your trauma with the utmost respect and seriousness it deserves.

She'd definitely get more protective of you after hearing your past.

As long as it's not against Elio's script, she's accompanying you on any mission you need to attend to.

And, well, if someone happens to trigger any unpleasant memories, be it a stranger or otherwise...

They're taken care of. Quietly.

⊹ Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan, teddy bear of a man he is, is likely the most forthcoming of the three about any scars he sees on you.

He's the General and goes into battle so that you don't have to get scars like his, and yet, what are these past wounds he sees on you?

The man isn't an idiot, though. He knows the circumstances behind them are likely far from pleasant.

He also knows how to treat a matter with the delicateness it requires.

"My dear... May I ask about that wound on your arm?"

So, so gentle.

He's already got you in his arms before you can say a word, cradling you gently and soothing you before you can get the story out.

Listens to every single word you have to say, only breaking your continuous sentences to hush you now and then and calm you down

Doesn't matter how much work he has to do, Jing Yuan would stay with you for hours or days on end to make sure you were okay

He, like Kafka, is not the type to be overly vengeful or seeking of retribution against those who hurt you.

Rather, he's more of the mindset that the best revenge is a life well-lived, and that's exactly how he intends to get back at your abusers—by making your life as wonderful as he can.

That's not to say he won't do anything, though.

If your abusers were still alive or around, he'd definitely pull some strings.

Nothing violent, of course, but the abuser(s) lives aboard the Xianzhou Luofu would never be peaceful again if he knew who they were.

Jing Yuan is more focused on you and your recovery.

If you ever feel like hurting yourself, or the past comes back to haunt you, he's dropping everything for your sake.

He doesn't just treat you like glass or tiptoe around you, though.

He knows how strong you are to have made it through such experiences and still be alive—to a long-lived species, it's especially admirable that one could sustain themselves through such things

As such, Jing Yuan respects you greatly. And he demands the same from others.

Not that he didn't already, being that you're his partner or closest friend (however you'd like to interpret, but he is most certainly in love with you!)

He's just more conscious of his own actions henceforth.

Jing Yuan wasn't the type to raise his voice or get visibly upset with you even in moments of disagreement or conflict, but he's especially more gentle after hearing your past.

The man is literally a walking green flag, I don't know what else to tell you!

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