#idk its kind of strange if that makes sense..? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wwwaegoncom · 25 days

Text

fragments: one

Summary: One night, Alicent had woken up her kids, gotten them in the car and never looked back. Leaving behind everything they knew. Starting a new life, moving into the apartment across from yours

modern!aegon x reader

warnings: 18+. substance abuse (cigaretes, idk), dysfunctional families, mommy issues, dub-con, smut, traumatic childhood, violence,

authors note:

I quickly proofread, sorry if I got my past present and future mixed up... pretend it's on purpose! Also Aegon being a kleptomaniac just seemed so right to me, Idk if that should be a warning

I HOPE y'all like this chapter!!

"you shouldn’t smoke inside”

You told your mother, who was standing by the window in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette.

You were stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, your gaze fixed on your mother, the cigarette burning low in between her fingers.

The smell from the cigarette lingered in the air, as it had continued to creep through the air. Your mother simply put up a dismissive wave of her hand, when she took the final drag of her cigarette and then stubbed out the burning ember into the ashtray.

"Its raining outside" your mother explained, her words escaping with the last of the cigarette smoke.

“but now, it smells inside”

You told your mother, almost as if your roles had been reversed. As if she was the child, and you were her mother scolding her.

“You’ll survive,” your mother said, her dismissive but kind voice travelling through the air. Without further comment she went over to the stove, continuing with the dinner she had been preparing.

You continued to stay in the doorway. The smoke now mingling with the aromas of the dinner, mixed together in a strange sense of comfort.

Then a knock at the front door interrupted your thoughts, your mother asking if you could please open the door.

"I think it’s Alicent,” your mother said, as she gestured to the door, not making a move to go out and let her in. "I told her to just come in, but she insists on knocking." she chuckled.

You nodded, pushing yourself away from the doorframe as you made your way to the door.

Alicent had lived across the hall for over well over 10 years now. You could just barely recall the night Alicent arrived, the quiet commotion in the hallway. You were six or seven, when they came into your live. You never thought they would stay, that it would be temporary for them to live there. You sometimes wondered if one day the apartment would be empty, leaving no trail of their presence in your life..

But their presence in the building was as permanent as the faded wallpaper that occupied the walls.

You turned the doorknob, revealing Alicent standing there, a smile on her face and a bottle of wine in her hand. Alicent knew she didn't have to knock, but the knock wasn't about asking for permission to enter, but still trying to maintain a semblance of the formality from the world she had long abandoned.

Alicent and her children had always been somewhat of a mystery, like a book with a missing chapter. Despite your frequent encounters and the friendly chats that bridged your daily lives, their past remained a distant, hazy mystery, as though their earlier live had been erased and they had simply been dropped into your world. Never existing before.

As she stepped into the apartment, Alicent gave you a quick hug. The scent of her perfume, a delicate mix of something floral and subtly woody. “Helaena got herself a new book," she explained, her voice carrying a note of amusement. “I told her she should come over, but she’s too engulfed in her readings."

Alicent made quick work of removing her shoes. She placed them neatly by the door, her movements deliberate and tidy. It was a small ritual, one that spoke volumes about her respect for others’ spaces and her own meticulous nature. She never left a mess behind, a trait that seemed to follow her like a well-practiced habit.

It was a stark difference to how your shoes were just thrown on the floor, in the middle of the hallway.

Alicent made her way to the kitchen, opening the cupboard to pull out three wine glasses. You drifted over, hovering in the doorway again, watching as she poured the wine, the deep red liquid swirling into the glasses. She turned, catching your eye, and casually asked your mother if you could have a glass too.

You didn’t need to be told twice, stepping into the kitchen and taking a sip from the glass she handed you. The wine was rich and a little sharp on your tongue, but you didn’t mind. You perched yourself up on the counter, your legs swinging slightly as you let their conversation wash over you, your thoughts drifting elsewhere.

"Aegon managed to get himself fired from another job," Alicent said, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. You weren’t surprised. Aegon had bounced from job to job for years, never sticking with one long enough to make it matter. Not that you didn't do the same.

"He was a dishwasher, at that diner down the street," Alicent went on, as she took a cigarette from her pocket and lit it with practiced ease. You caught your mother’s eye, and she gave you a knowing look, amused that you had scolded her for smoking inside just before Alicent arrived. But now, with Alicent, the rules seemed to bend.

Alicent took a deep drag, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling, before she continued her rant. "I mean, how do you get fired from washing dishes? Just wash the dishes?." She shook her head, her frustration thick in the air as the ashes from her cigarette drifted to the floor, unnoticed.

"Perhaps he forget to wash the dishes"

You joked, finally engaging in the conversation. A smile curled at the side of Alicents lips, as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"How about you? What are you doing these days?" Alicent asked, with a sense of actual curiosity. You should have kept quiet, you didn't want to be speaking about what you were doing.

"I quit a few weeks ago, manager was a creep"

You explained, not going into further explanation as to why he was a creep.

Alicent's quiet hum showed her understanding of the corruptions that would taint men as they came into positions of power.

Your mother didn't participate in the conversation, as she went around the kitchen, gathering plates.

You were all in the kitchen, chatting and finishing your dinner, when you all heard a knock on the door. It was a muffled voice, but unmistakably Aegon’s.

“It’s open,” your mother called out from the kitchen.

The door creaked as Aegon walked in. “I forgot my keys. Is my mom here?” he asked, his voice rough and deep.

“In the kitchen,” Alicent’s voice came from the kitchen.

Aegon didn't bother to take his shoes off, he simply just wandered into the kitchen, his shoes leaving a small trail of water from the rain outside. He greeted you with a nod, his eyes immediately landing on your glass of wine. Without a word, he grabbed it, not even bothering to ask if he could.

He had this habit, this compulsion, of taking things that didn't belong to him. His fingers itching to grab whatever caught his interest.

His mother used to say he’d grow out of it, that is was jus a childish phase. But it wasn't, was it?

It would always be the most random things too. Such as the old candle you had been meaning to toss out. You didn't even notice it was gone, until you saw it in his room, being repurposed as an ashtray.

When he was younger, his mother would go through his room, pulling out the oddest collection of stolen things. Little bits and pieces that didn’t even make sense together.

A box of matches, an eyeliner, a fridge magnet, Helaenas earrings, and many other things.

She’d make him return it all, of course, dragging him door to door, making him apologise. She had hoped the embarrassment would be enough of a reason for him to stop, but he never stopped.

“You couldn’t get your own glass?” you asked, watching him down down the last of your wine.

“I’m not staying, I just needed the keys,” Aegon said, but his actions said otherwise. He settled on the counter next to you, his eyes fixed on the leftovers, like a dog hoping for scraps.

“There’s plenty left if you want to stay for dinner,” your mother offered, already preparing a plate for him.

Aegon hesitated, his words not quite matching his eager reach for the plate. “I just ate, but yeah, thanks.” His uncertainty and the way he eagerly reached for the plate made it clear, he hadn't just ate.

The four of you now stood in the kitchen, not really speaking a word to each other. A comfortable silence.

But Aegon never found silence comforting.

"Don't stop whatever conversation you were having, just because I'm here now"

Aegon chuckled, he hadn't even bothered to completely finish swallowing all of his food, speaking with his mouth full. If Aegon had something to say, he didn't wait, he said it as soon as the thought occurred in his brain.

"We were speaking about jobs"

You told Aegon, as you titled my head at him, letting him now his mother told us how he got fired. Aegon let out a scoff, as he finished his food and put the plate down beside him.

"I'll get a new job" he sighed, getting off the counter to pour more wine into your glass, that had now became a shared glass between Aegon and you.

You saw your mother out of the corner of your eye. Lighting up a cigarette.

"Mum, go outside" You whined, as she rolled her eyes at you.

But she listened to your words, her and Alicent leaving the kitchen to go sit at the balcony, you rarely ever used.

When Aegon saw they were out of earshot, he spoke again. "Besides, I didn't actually get fired" he had a stupid grin all over his face, you already knew he had done something he wasn't suppose to.

"So turns out, the waitress was dating one of the line cooks" Aegon explained, as he took a sip of the wine. "So imagine my surprise when I was fucking said waitress, and the line cook was suddenly in her apartment." Aegon was laughing between his word. You shook your head at how ridiculous it all was, and at the fact that Aegon was finding it all quite amusing.

"And that meant you had to quit?" you chuckled, tilting your head at him. The thought of Aegon scrubbing dishes next to the guy whose girlfriend he’d slept with was ridiculous, but Aegon needed that job. He couldn't just quit at a moments notice. But you weren't his mother, you shouldn't try to scold him.

"You also just quit your job," Aegon snapped back, his eyebrows knitting together in irritation. It was like he didn’t see the difference between his situation and yours. Aegon quit because he slept with a coworker, you quit because you wouldn't sleep with one.

You took the wine glass from his hand, finishing what was left, the taste of the wine lingering on your tongue. "I didn’t quit because I slept with a coworker," you whispered, knowing Aegon wouldn't understand the difference in your circumstances. But at the end of the day, the both you had quit your jobs. Quitting was always the easiest option.

You looked at him. Noticed how his hair had gotten longer, slightly wet from the rain, it had probably been growing out for months, but you hadn't noticed until now. You and Aegon weren't particularly close. More like two stray cats that kept coming back to the same place.

"You need a haircut" you blurted out, completely tossing aside the topic you had been speaking about. You saw how Aegons eyebrows knitted his eyebrows together again, but not in irritation.

"Maybe I should apply where you worked," Aegon joked, dismissing your comment about his hair, as he hoped off the counter, he had clearly lost interest in the conversation now. The mention of his hair, struck a nerve, you didn't quite understand why.

You barely had time to react before he was calling for his mom to get the keys, not even bothering with to say goodbye, not even something as simple as a wave. Aegon left when he wanted, and never cared to look back.

When Aegon was a child, Alicent would place a chair against his door, every night. He had run away so many times, and locking the doors never helped, he always managed to get away. But by having the chair against his door, she would hear the sound of it scrape against the wooden floors, alerting her he might run away.

Sometimes she contemplated going back to sleep. He would always came back anyways.

Aegon never had a plan when he ran away, sometimes not even putting his shoes on. But running away was always on his mind, but running away didn't help him.

taglist

@p5510n4f4shi0n @primroseluna

267 notes · View notes

guttergirlcore · 3 months

Note

You've got me hooked with that Cregan fic! Could you continue it with him returning to his Lady after the fortnight? Maybe he's injured and she takes care of him pls?

Love this idea! How'd u know I have a thing for vulnerable war-torn men??

A Den of Lions & Wolves: Part II

Cregan Stark x Lannister! Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

SYNOPSIS // It has been well over a week since your wedding night to the Wolf of Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark. While he's away negotiating an alliance with a far-away dynasty, you are left to take in your strange surroundings. When Cregan returns to your bed wounded, you find there's much more to heal than just his broken skin.

WARNINGS // HotD universe, fluff, bit of smut, Lannister!reader, AFAB she/her reader, mentions of familial trauma, angst, injured!Cregan, light mentions of gore, low-key modern medical practices but give me a break--idk what maesters were doing back in 2 BC

>>READ RESPONSIBLY<<

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1.4k

The sunlight streamed in from the northern window, bathing you in its warm morning embrace.

It had been nearly two weeks since you'd last seen your husband, Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell. Though you didn't know the man past the one heady night the two of you shared, you couldn't deny the pang in your heart that resembled longing.

Still, you allowed yourself to bask in the familiar comfort of solitude, however unusual your surroundings.

The days in Lord Stark's absence allowed you to tour your new home, and you found that Northerners could be rather kind, in a plain and uncalculated way. You often found yourself marveling at how different this all was from the place you grew up in. In House Lannister, kindness wasn't encouraged. People were but pawns to maneuver and discard when necessary in a greater game.

You shook yourself from these bleak thoughts of home. This was home now.

Dressed in the clothing your handmaidens left out for you, you eyed your reflection in the mirrored surface. The North was much colder than you had anticipated, so the heavy furs were a new and necessary part of your wardrobe.

You left the room you and Cregan were to share as a wedded couple and traced the short path to the Stark library. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, you were greeted by the warm glow of oil lamps and the scent of parchment and ink.

You could spend many hours losing yourself in literature. It had always been as such, as you were often forgotten of in your ancestral home. With books, you always belonged.

As you pulled a dust-coated, leather-bound book from the shelves, you settled into your favorite chair at the corner of the room for another long day of reading.

Perhaps Lord Stark would not be around much after all. Before your wedding day, you would have been pleased at the thought. Now, it left you with a lingering feeling of disappointment.

The night hummed with the howl of blistering wind and snow. It was nearly deafening. You pulled the soft fur of your bed closer to your face for warmth against the cold.

Just as you shifted, the bed dipped low, indicating the presence of another. Startled, you jumped into an upright position, pulling the blankets over your scantily-clad body.

"Rest now, it's only me." Lord Stark hummed.

In the dim glow of the night, you could just make out his large, imposing figure at the foot of the bed.

"Husband! I hadn't known you'd return tonight." You stumbled out anxiously. He'd told you he would have you again when he returned, and now, here he was. You'd have liked a raven's notice of his return ahead of time so that you might have mentally and physically prepared yourself for the night ahead, but you sensed that Lord Stark's return was quite unplanned.

Lord Stark walked to the side table and pulled a match from the drawer, lighting a couple of candles. In the flare of the match, his rugged face was illuminated, the light catching on a deep, weeping gash above his right eyebrow. The skin below his brow and alongside his eye was bruising shades of purple and hazy yellow at the edges.

"Lord Stark, you are hurt." You startled out.

"Negotiations haven't gone as planned. It's but a flesh wound, really. The Maesters can mend me in the morn," he grumbled back.

"No need. I picked up some small medical knowledge during my schooling. I am no Maester, but allow me to stitch your wound." You were shocked by your own admission. Usually, you wouldn't be so bold, but something about seeing this great, infallible man wounded struck a cord within you.

He eyed you warily for a few moments more. "Alright then, but be quick about it."

You nodded curtly and stood from the bed to cross to the cabinet at the far corner of the room. Within it, you found the necessary supplies.

As you turned, supplies in hand, you were met with Lord Stark pulling off his furs, leather pelts, and undershirt. A dark bruise bloomed in shades of purple, violet, and indigo along his toned side, just above his britches. You winced at the image.

"Got that during negotiations as well?" You asked.

Cregan made a grunt of acknowledgment and sat heavily at the side of the bed. The frame bowed and creaked with his weight.

You approached cautiously, as you could see just how reluctant Lord Stark was to even let you witness him wounded. It genuinely seemed that the greatest thing to harm the Wolf of Winterfell was another seeing his softness.

"I can tend to that, also," you nodded to the wound at his side. Cregan said nothing, but watched you warily, as always.

You dragged a chair to sit in front of your husband, beginning your ministrations on his face first. As you brought the disinfectant to his cut, his slate grey eyes met yours and you had to quickly look away before his gaze made you entirely lose focus.

"The handmaidens tell me you enjoy reading," Cregan said, unexpectantly.

"Yes. Yes, I do, very much." You nodded your head as you threaded the thin needle.

"They also tell me you've visited the library several times in my absence."

You nod once more, unsure of the direction this conversation is going.

"The Stark library is vast, but I must admit, I haven't much patience for reading. I'm afraid I am not as well-versed in the selection as I'd like to be."

There's a moment of hesitation before he continues.

"My obligations have kept me away from my home for quite some time now, even before our union. I know this is far from ideal for a wedded Lady, and you must find things to occupy your time..."

"What I mean to say is...If you have need for a greater selection, all you need do is ask and I will make sure you are provided for." Cregan's expression, though obviously uncomfortable, is earnest.

"You haven't known me long, but you must know I will always provide for you, my Lady Wife."

You nod your head in understanding, taken by this sudden display of tenderness from the usually burly Lord Stark.

"I am quite satisfied with the selection, Lord Stark, I assure you." You smile reassuringly.

"Cregan, please." He insists and you nod once.

Your arm raises to place the first stitch above his brow. As the needle pierces his flesh, Cregan lets out a sharp hiss of pain, grabbing your wrist in his large hand.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. My stitching is straight, but the process isn't pleasant. Perhaps I can call for milk of the poppy? It is late, but I may be able to--"

"I have other ideas for ways to ease the pain." Cregan cuts you off with his husky voice, still holding tightly to your enclosed wrist.

He pulls you towards him and you have no choice but to stand above him. Eyes never leaving yours, his hands release you only to reach below the hem of your nightgown, pushing the thin fabric up until his rough fingers hook around the sides of your undergarment, pulling them down your legs in one swift motion. You shivered at the sensation.

You stepped out of them and watched as Cregan reached for the laces at the front of his pants, barely containing his hardening length. He loosened the laces just enough to free his cock, and it sprang forth, inviting you closer.

"I want you to sit on me," Cregan replied simply, taking your hands once more to draw you closer.

Nervously, you straddled your husband, waiting for further instruction. His rough hands found the tops of your thighs, splaying his fingers across them and slowly applying pressure until you bowed under their weight.

You slowly sank down on him, his cock first spreading you, then impaling until your hips were flush against his. The stretch was tight, but pleasurable after many nights apart.

"That's a good girl," Cregan moaned. "Now stay still for me, and I will for you."

You nodded silently, shakily raising the threaded needle to his brow again as he gripped your thighs painfully.

As the needle threaded flesh, you could feel Cregan throb within you, as did you around him.

Cregan's eyes closed and he tipped his head back slightly, enjoying the sensation of you squeezing around him.

It wasn't long before the cut was closed and you tied off the knot before snipping the rest off.

Cregan lifted his face to yours and smiled an almost devilish grin.

"You're not done, little wolf."

#hotd cregan #hotd #hotd season 2 #cregan fanfic #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark #cregan x reader #house of the dragon #house stark #rhaenyra targaryen #jacerys velaryon #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #got #game of thrones

169 notes · View notes

weast-of-eden · 6 months

Text

I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present

Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:

(edit: i made a second list here!!)

The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.

Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.

A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!

The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend

Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)

Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue 1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!

A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)

anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!

#i hope this is coherent #or at least helpful to someone lol #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #granada holmes #granada johnlock #acd johnlock #fic rec #acd johnlock fic rec #granada johnlock fic rec

328 notes · View notes

qingxin-dream · 11 months

Text

god idk why but every time i see art like this it makes me wonder how scara would feel if he had a child.

he had always wanted control of his own fate, to fulfill what he believed was his purpose. yet, the universe seemed adamant in proving him wrong again and again. after deciding to repent for his sins as the wanderer, he never anticipated that nahida’s subtle encouragement for him to make friends would ultimately bloom into romance with you of all humans.

you were unbelievably patient with him, slowly penetrating the barriers entombed around his heart. frankly, even you weren’t expecting to become so close with someone like him, but given the circumstances how could you not? his struggles resonated deeply within you, finding a similar sorrow and yearning flickering in your own soul.

it was breathtaking—a kind of soft, speechless reverence—in how you completed each other. scara truly believed he did not deserve you or this fuzzy warmth in his chest that felt strangely like… home. a sense of belonging and meaning.

a place which he never had to call his own, until now.

he would be damned if he ever let anything happen to you. so, you can imagine the confusion and pure worry etched into his divine features when you first experience morning sickness.

honestly, this painful reminder of your mortality caused so many buried fears to open like fresh wounds. you were family, just like niwa and all those who came before, and you too would inevitably succumb to your humanity in a final act of betrayal.

just as your lover had become lost in the depths of his own grief, you managed to pull him to the surface with a single little revelation. one that would defy the laws of this pitiful universe, but perhaps fate does not play by its own rules.

your hand hesitated to caress your bare stomach with uncertainty while the other trembled with a small pink stick. the puppet glanced at the screen on the unknown device. pregnant.

who was he to be given the miraculous power to create life?

no one. nothing.

but amid the ashes of his former self, his heart found hope in rebirth. in raising a fledgling of his own to nurture and care for in ways he could only have dreamed of. in loving you and his newfound family.

art credits: @/__marmochi on twitter

#[dance of the blade].✿#this is a humble request to carry scara’s children☺️❤️#i have so many thoughts about this tho and how scara sees niwa & the young boy in his own son #genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

615 notes · View notes

pretzel-box · 1 month

Note

OU OU OU OHHHH Can you PLEASEEE do a mini fic of Sebastian meeting an expendable who has crazy body mods to make them look more alien?? Like tattooed eyes split tongues teeth with extensions n stuff?? I wonder how he’d feel about someone making themselves look like that when he was forced to look the way he is?? Idk if that makes sense but I had a eureka moment and I LOVEEEE your fics 😩plsplsplsplslpslsl 🙏🏻🙏🏻

words: 1,2k

tags: gn!reader, clear mentions of body mods

Sebastian was rarely scared of anything. At this point, the man had faced horrors beyond human understanding, staring down death itself with nothing more than a resting bitch face. He’d shrugged off wall dwellers that plummeted into his shop from the dark ceilings above, and barely blinked when Pandemonium rushed by, a force of chaos that would unnerve anyone else.

So, imagine his face when he first met you—standing face to face with a human who looked so… inhuman.

When you first entered his shop, he assumed you were another twisted experiment, something that had escaped the grasp of Hadal Blackside’s prison when the lockdown started. The split tongue, the intricate tattoos inked right into the whites of your eyes, the piercings that glittered along the edges of your lips and brows—it all spoke of something otherworldly, something that didn’t belong to the realm of normal human experience.

But then, he noticed the neat little uniform clinging to your body, its fabric still crisp, untouched by the filth and blood that coated most of the facility. The sight of it made a light flicker on in his head. You were human—if the term could still apply—sent down from above, likely a new expandable among this mess, just like countless others before you.

His face scrunched up in irritation and a bit of disgust, his lip curling as he scanned you from head to toe. It wasn’t fear—no, Sebastian was far beyond that—it was the jarring discomfort of trying to process something so out of the ordinary, something that made even him pause for a second.

“What the hell…” he muttered, his voice low, almost as if he was talking to himself. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the sharp lines of your tattoos, the way the ink made your gaze unsettlingly intense. He could feel the irritation creeping up the back of his neck, the way it always did when something disrupted the order of things in his world. Sebastian spend the last few years hating Urbanshade and himself, cruising his newfound appearance and coming slowly yet painfully to terms with it that he can't be human anymore. So it was even more a hit in the face to see someone who was perfectly human turn themself into what— an alien?

You, with your inked eyes and split tongue, were an affront to the normalcy he clung to in this otherwise chaotic place. Even in the madness of the Blackside, where monsters roamed freely and reality was different, your appearance was a challenge to his sense of what should and shouldn’t be.

Yet, even as he bristled with discomfort, there was a begrudging respect beneath it all. It took guts to modify yourself to that extent, to carry the weight of those changes with such confidence. It was the kind of defiance that reminded him, in some strange way, of himself. A refusal to be anything but exactly what you were, no matter how unsettling it might be to others.

After a moment of tense silence, he let out a breath, forcing his expression to soften, if only slightly. “Alright, you got my attention,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you need?”

You didn’t flinch under his gaze, didn’t hesitate as you stepped closer, as if daring him to say something more. Your eyes, those unsettling orbs of black and white, met his with a calmness that caught him off guard.

“I need supplies,” you said, your voice smooth, unbothered by his scrutiny. To be fair, you were already used to people behaving like that, treating you weirdly for your special behavior. Your split tongue flickered as you spoke, and for a brief second, his mind flashed with curiosity—how it must feel to talk like that, to move in a body so distinctly altered.

“Supplies, huh?” he echoed, almost as if testing the word in his mouth, seeing if it tasted any different when spoken to someone like you. He tilted his head, the initial discomfort giving way to a strange sort of intrigue. “You got anything to trade?”

You nodded, reaching into your bag, and pulling out a handful of items— usb scraps, files, a few salvaged goods that had seen better days but were still usable. He eyed the offerings, the gears in his mind beginning to turn. A potential customer, no matter how off-putting, was still a customer.

“Fine,” he said, the last traces of his initial irritation melting away as he slithered forward to inspect your trade. “But don’t think I’m giving you any special treatment just ‘cause you look like you crawled out of someone’s worst nightmare.”

You smirked, the corners of your lips pulling up to reveal the silver glint of piercings on your tongue. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, and there was a spark of mutual understanding in your tone as you sassed back—an acknowledgment of the strangeness of this place, and of each other.

As he began to rummage through his wares, the discomfort that had initially gripped him faded, replaced by a begrudging respect. You were different, sure, but in this hellhole, maybe different was exactly what was needed.

Sebastian was in the middle of inspecting the tech scraps you had offered, his sharp eyes scanning each piece with practiced efficiency. You stood across from him, arms crossed, waiting for his judgment, your split tongue occasionally flicking out as you shifted your weight.

Just as Sebastian was about to name his price, the vent to the shop creaked open, and another customer cautiously stepped inside. The newcomer was a wiry, nervous-looking man, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting something to jump out at him at any moment. He spotted Sebastian first, relief briefly washing over his features.

But then, his gaze shifted to you.

The moment his eyes locked onto your inked ones, his face paled. His jaw went slack as he took in the tattoos, the piercings, and finally, the slow flicker of your split tongue.

Sebastian noticed the man’s reaction and rolled his eyes, barely suppressing a smirk. “You need something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the customer who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

The man opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes widened even further, and without warning, he bolted toward the nearest vent in the wall.

“Hey, wait!” Sebastian called after him, but it was too late. The man had already pried open the vent cover and was scrambling inside like a terrified rat fleeing a sinking ship.

You watched, bemused, as the man’s legs disappeared into the vent, the cover clattering shut behind him. A few moments of silence passed before you turned back to Sebastian, an amused smirk playing on your lips.

“Well, that was rude,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Sebastian finally let out the laugh he’d been holding back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Can’t say I blame him,” he chuckled, glancing at you with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “You do have a habit of making strong first impressions.”

You shrugged, unbothered by the man’s reaction. “Guess he couldn’t handle a little personality,” you replied, your smirk widening.

Sebastian grinned back, clearly enjoying the moment. “His loss,” he said, returning to your trade with a newfound lightness. “Now, where were we?”

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace fanfic #roblox pressure #pressure

99 notes · View notes

moonsaver · 1 month

Note

I think the reason why yan Sunday appeals to me so much is because of how he reflects a sad desperation to be loved and for the world to be made right in some way. He’s learned not only from gopher wood but also from his own experiences how cruel the world can be, and although he loves his family I think he does so partially out of some sense of responsibility for what they’ve done for him, almost putting them on a godlike pedestal. He is the ultimate martyr that will make the world right, even if it means he is the sacrificial lamb.

So when he meets someone that’s kind to him for no reason it’s probably strange, receiving affection just because. This time he looks at them as if they are divine being, gracing such a sinner as himself with their love. But in return, this time he’ll succeed in protecting them like he wasn’t able to do for others in his life. he protects them from the world even if it means overruling their own choices.

Also I lowkey relate with him and feel like no matter what I can’t give back to the people I love the most lmao.

Sunday let’s form an unhealthy codependent relationship and live in the delusion of love formed out of desperation.

idk if any of this made sense I’m bad at conveying ideas but tldr: Sunday and unhealthy codependency mixed with a martyr complex appeals to me since I think it reflects some of the more unhealthy aspects of love that leads to obsessiveness and a lack of respect for one’s own autonomy.

Hey anon, i cant even add anything to this. This is pretty much perfect in encapsulating what relationships can be like with yan!sunday.

I love yan!sunday for the exact reasons you've said so. He's probably utterly foreign to the concept of actually receiving unconditional love and kindness, and when reader actually does give him just that, he can't help but want more.

But, since it's yan! Sunday, he most likely isn't able to replicate that specific, ecstasy feeling when he gets it from you vs from anyone else (i mean, particularly because of his status, its even harder to find). Reader becomes his sole source of this love where he's able to see them on equal ground – not someone who needs his help and neither someone he needs help from. You aren't in debt to him, you don't need to pay him back, you don't want favors, you're just.. so sweet and kind to him. You actually want to understand him, you understand his ideals of what a world can and should be, you listen to him, and you don't treat him as though he's supposed to be sacrificed – you treat him as someone who needs to live, as someone who doesn't, or rather shouldn't, martyr themselves, you don't take his sacrifice as something that should have come by default.

I would love to add more but rn i have a splitting headache and this is as much as i can add as of now. Anyways you perfectly capsulated him.

134 notes · View notes

roxxie-wolf · 5 months

Text

𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.

Word count: 726

Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20’s, Alastor is in his early 30’s, you still live with your parents idk. If I forgot anything else please let me know.

Note: It’s my first story, please let me know how you feel about this. I want to improve. Thank you! ☺️

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟣

Living in New Orleans was something new for you. It was a stark contrast to the life you had known growing up on a farm in the countryside. You was always the child who spent her days outside with your father, tending to the animals and the crops. The thought of leaving that behind and moving to a bustling city like New Orleans was something you could never have imagined wanting to do.

However, when your parents made the decision to sell the property and start anew, there was nothing you could do but to follow. You found yourself in a strange new world, far removed from the simplicity and familiarity of rural life.

The first few weeks in the new home were challenging to say the least. The noise and crowds of the city overwhelmed you, and you found yourself longing for the quiet of the countryside. But slowly, as you explored the streets of New Orleans and got to know its people, you began to see the beauty and intrigue that the city had to offer.

The air hung heavy with humidity, wrapping around you like a warm, damp shroud. The streets of New Orleans pulsed with life—a vibrant tapestry woven from the threads of jazz, and secrets whispered in the sultry night.

You missed the farm—the sun-kissed fields, the scent of freshly turned soil, and the comforting rhythm of chores. But here, in the heart of the Crescent City, you discovered a different kind of rhythm—one that thrummed through your veins like the syncopated beat of a jazz trumpet.

——————————————-

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. The soft rays danced on the walls, illuminating the dusty corners and highlighting the knick-knacks that adorned your shelves, music playing in the background.

Your mother left early to buy groceries and your father went to work. You stood in the kitchen making breakfast for yourself. It was a picture-perfect start to the day until…

The radio broadcast cut through the tranquility with chilling news. The broadcaster's voice was urgent, tinged with a sense of dread that sent chills down your spine. “Another person has gone missing in the city," the voice said, each word heavy with the gravity of the situation.

The broadcaster continued, detailing the string of disappearances that had begun to weave a tapestry of fear across New Orleans. Another missing person…but what was even more disturbing was the realization that this was not an isolated incident.

Your heart began to race as you listened. As the broadcast continued, you felt a sense of unease settle over you. The cozy room, once filled with warmth and sunlight, now felt stifling and claustrophobic. The shadows danced ominously on the walls, the familiar knick-knacks taking on a sinister air. You couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped you, the knowledge that danger lurked just beyond the cozy confines of your home.

The morning sun, once a beacon of hope and promise, now seemed tainted by the darkness that hung over the town. The warm glow that had greeted you upon waking now felt cold and distant.

You couldn't help but shiver as you clutched the edge of the kitchen counter. The weight of the situation pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a steely resolve began to take hold within you. You knew you couldn't let fear dictate your actions, couldn't let the darkness of the outside world consume you. You had to be vigilant, had to stay alert and aware of your surroundings.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the kitchen counter and made your way to the window. The morning sun, still streaming through the curtains casting its warm glow across the room. The radio may have brought chilling news of a missing person but you refused to let fear overpower you.

Your thoughts race in your head. What happened to that person? Does New Orleans have a killer on the loose? Who knows. As the sun rose higher in the sky, illuminating the world outside, you found solace in the knowledge that no matter how dark the night may seem, the morning light would always come.

🌸𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉🌸

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^ I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖

TAGLIST: @magictoebean

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #human alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #human alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

194 notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 7 months

Note

If you don't mind me can I request male reader who like Akaza from Demon slayer with the Hazbin Hotel.

Bonus: respect woman.

Hello! Normally i would Say no bc My Requests are Closed but you're lucky that i'm in a good mood to write and also i am a fan of this Man✨ 😭

Thanks for the Request ❤️

(to the other Readers, don't take this as something usual, the Requests are still Closed, i'm just in the mood to write THIS for now)

Akaza! Reader in Hazbin Hotel

Genre: headcanons

Reader: male

Warnings: Reader is a fighter, violence(?), hell, slight change in Akaza story so its not a Copy-paste and make "more sense",idk, I MAKE THIS IN A RUSH OF ✨INSPIRATION✨SO ITS NOT PROFFHEAD!!

You were born and raised in the Edo era, in Japan. and it was a nightmare.

You lived in poverty all your life, practically alone with your sick father who could barely take care of himself, but he always tried to take care of you above all else.

You spent a lot of your life trying to take care of him back, but it was difficult because of money, you couldn't afford it. so you did the only thing you could think of: steal medicine.

Obviously many times this didn't turn out well, and they ended up catching you and taking you to be beaten and tattooed like a criminal, but it was the kind of life you led until your father died.

That was when you hit rock bottom, but you met certain people who helped you move forward. a martial arts master and his sick daughter (who reminded you a lot of your father).

And it was the time when you lived better, you took care of your teacher's daughter and you learned from him, you had a good life.

you and his daughter even fell in love!

everything had fallen into place in your life...

until conflicts broke out again.

You don't remember much about your last days of life, it was a cycle of going, killing whoever got in your way, returning with whatever you wanted from your group, and whatever followed...

You just wanted to go home.

but you died before that.

and just as you expected, after everything you had done wrong in your life, you ended up in hell.

It wasn't exactly like the hell you had imagined growing up, but it was definitely difficult to adjust, knowing that you were dead, in this hole of misery, far from them...

but you didn't waste your time. You discovered quite quickly that several of your physical abilities had stayed with you, so you took advantage of them and became a quite formidable demon.

You wouldn't say you were an Overlord, but you were definitely an anomaly to Hell's QUO status, a demon who had become powerful without the need for owning souls.

something very strange.

so many Overlords, feeling threatened, tried to go after you, only to never be seen again...

As for the Hotel issue, I think that Akaza! reader would be skeptical, I don't think he would have a problem offering himself as a test subject for the hotel because 1- there is Alastor, someone very strong, and 2- he has a small hope that the hotel will work and maybe, just maybe he can redeem himself and go. to heaven with his love and his teacher, what he loves most. although he wouldn't say the last thing out loud.

Speaking of relationships, Alastor and him can actually get along in a very ambiguous way, Alastor is not happy with someone who is so strong without even having souls of their own, so he is cautious, but not in a threatening way.

Although there is something these two have in common, THEY RESPECT WOMEN.

Alastor can definitely introduce him to Akaza! read several of his female friends to be more "social" and get possible blackmail material.

Alastor secretly knows of the possible motives behind why Akaza! Reader would like the hotel to work, he thinks he is naive, but he doesn't make fun, Alastor partly understands why he feels that way. leaves him alone in that sense.

...but it bothers him in every other way! using it as an armrest, innocuous phrases, crushing it with things out of nowhere, etc. He always has something up his sleeve to piss him off.

but they can ally if women get involved ;)

Charlie is so so so so so happy to have Akaza! reader as another participant alongside Angel and Sir Pentious! She constantly thanks him for his collaboration and tells him how much it means to her.

Lots of encouragement during the trust exercises! she realizes that Akaza! Reader is not very talkative, and although she does not force him to change, she "subtly" encourages him to be more open with the exercises.

Although that does not mean that she admits the fights, she tries to encourage Akaza! reader to find another way to get out his anger and energy in less destructive ways.

I think she would be the only one who knows through Akaza! reader why he wants the hotel to work, and she is SO MOVED by him because Reader wants to redeem himself and that gives him a lot of motivation to do more exercises.

Even if is sometimes a double-edged sword because she feels pressured not only by wanting to help her friends, but also by Akaza's cute motive! reader.

Akaza! reader is very protective of Charlie even if she is the princess of hell, he is like a bodyguard! or a very loyal pitbull. Charlie finds it endearing (but please don't rip that demon's head off please---)

Vaggie is scared of Akaza at first! reader for his aggressive nature.

She is afraid that he will end up directing that destructive energy towards them if he is very angry, so she is very cautious at first.

but eventually she can relax more and more with him as she realizes that (at least with women) he's not going to explode on anyone who doesn't deserve it. and that in fact he is a good man.

sparring together! Vaggie feels kind of bad that he doesn't have a gun, but is surprised at how tough he is.

If she finds out his reason behind going to the hotel, she supports him a lot in his journey of redemption, more than before, she empathizes with him.

They both have similar motives.

Vaggie really appreciates when Akaza! reader defends the female staff against Angel's out-of-place comments. she may even allow him to hit him.

You two are the main people in charge of protecting the hotel.

Let's be honest, Angel dust at first was just "flirting"/sexually harassing Akaza! reader until he beat him up and never did it again.

He thought he was simply bitter about life until he remembered that on one occasion he told him that "he was taken" and he didn't take it so personally.

After the duet with Husk, he went directly to apologize to him and they were on bad terms.

Angel occasionally likes to prank him like everyone else in the hotel, but he's considerably less annoying with Akaza! reader because he knows what he is capable of.

When he eventually finds out why he is "taken" and why someone like him is in the hotel, he can't help but empathize with him a lot (from his sister in heaven), and tries to be his "Husk" at his lowest moment. .

Even if technically Akaza!reader is stronger than him in every way, he takes care of him in his own way, watching his drink, not being robbed, etc.

Angel is definitely not used to so much respect when it comes to his gender identity, which is why he respects Akaza a lot! reader.

They generally start off on the wrong foot but manage to be friends.

Husk likes Akaza! reader, simply because it gets on Alastor's nerves and because he knows that he won't kick the ass of someone who doesn't deserve it. He knows everyone is safe with him.

He definitely knows about his reason for being in the hotel and pities him, respects his privacy a lot after that and doesn't let him talk drunk.

Husk may get to have his "loser baby" moment with Akaza! reader but in a platonic way, helping him when it is especially difficult to stay away from violence.

They can even have a father-son relationship, Husk is very similar to Akaza's teacher! reader in many ways EMOTIONALLY SPEAKING so Akaza! reader feels comfortable with him.

she definitely tells him things about her past as Overlord to entertain him.

Sir Pentious at first was TERRIFIED of Akaza!reader, his reputation was as a tough guy who went after evil people and Pentious (having his poor self-image) thought he would kill him as soon as he saw him.

but fortunately it was not like that!

but he was definitely avoiding it for DAYS before he heard from the others that Akaza!reader wasn't that bad and was actually quite nice. to give him a chance.

and Pentious did just that. and he was VERY surprised.

Akaza! reader has had to dismantle several of Sir Pentious's evil machines using his enormous strength, and although Pentious was heartbroken to see his machines destroyed, he was also VERY surprised by Akaza!reader's capabilities, even giving me more things to do. break and test their strength (imagine this pair getting to know the Rage Rooms).

Pentious Minnions occasionally go to Akaza! reader when P. is not there, which is fun to see because Akaza!reader would try to get away from the Minions that come after him like ducks.

Akaza! reader clearly notices Pentious's crush on Cherri, and encourages him to do something now that he has time.

(Can you imagine Akaza! reader's Koyuki becoming friends with Pentious in heaven? It would be Epico).

Mononeuronal pair.

Niffty is strange.

but I can definitely see Akaza! reader protecting it constantly. so Niffty likes him. But I wouldn't really say they are friends.

In general, everyone has some kind of respect for Akaza! reader. They hope you can reach your goal.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Again, this DOES NOT MEAN that orders are open again! I'm just taking a break and deciding what things to write and what not to. thanks for the request ✨❤️

#headcanons #male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #kny akaza

167 notes · View notes

lynnlyrae · 26 days

Text

The lost name

I think Vanitas’s real name could be Deucalion.

In this text I’ll cover my reasons for choosing this name, its connection to the story of Noah and the myth of Pandora and how would it correlate with the relationship of Vanitas and Noé.

Posting this as an actual answer to @scar-eyejolteon14 as promised here.

The lore of Deucalion

It all started when I was wondering what kind of name I could give Vani if I were to draw him as a Chasseur (ordinary human, who’ve never met Luna and never inherited their name). I began with the most obvious thing: checking Vani’s wiki page for existing details and references. I went with his zodiak sign, Aquarius, as the staring point, because stars and celestial bodies are recurring theme in VnC and well why not?..

The next obvious place to go is wiki page for Aquarius. Here we come across a fun thing: Babylonian star catalogues. They contained lists of stars, constellations, and planets.

I found the first picture on a somewhat strange website, but whatever. This is a fragment of a circular star calendar, which belonged to the library of King Ashurbanipal (668-627 BC) in Nineveh. The second picture is a star list, found in Uruk (320-150 BC). It had information on all constellations such as names, number of stars, their distance, etc. Just so we understand that astronomy was a big deal there.

And yes, the capital of Babylonia was Babel — that one city with the tower (The Book of Genesis, Genesis 11) which is referenced in VnC.

(Ch. 21)

What did Babylonian astronomers think of Aquarius? Well, they associated this constellation with the Ea. “The Great One” is his title. He’s also known as Enki, god of magic, fertility, creation, etc., who was originally a water god (and his temple name E-apsu means “house of the watery deep", idk I think it sounds really cool). The water theme is not random: Aquarius was also associated with floods. Water was sacred, but also deadly: floods were source of destruction.

Later, a Latin author Gaius Julius Hyginus quoted an Alexandrian historian Hegesianax that Deucalion is to be identified with Aquarius, "because during his reign such quantities of water poured from the sky that the great Flood resulted." Again, we see the idea of destructive flood. But where does Deucalion bring us? To Noah. Or Noé, if you will.

(Ch. 1)

Deucalion and Noah

Both Deucalion and Noah are central figures of the classical flood myth, which exists in various cultures. While these two are probably among the most popular figures, there are other examples, including Utnapishtim, who was warned by the god Ea (who also created humans among other things) about the flood and instructs him to build a boat and save his family and animals. The stories of Deucalion and Noah follow the same pattern with some minor variations. But Deucalion is the one who is associated with Aquarius, the constellation that symbolizes the coming of the flood and all its terrors, while Noah/Noé is associated with salvation of human race and all living things.

Deluge, 1864, by Aivazovsky. This painting depicts a beginning of a biblical story about the near-end of human race. It’s pretty much the same in other versions of the story.

Deucalion and Pandora

What’s interesting, Deucalion’s myth is directly related to Pandora’s myth. Deucalion is usually described as the son of Prometheus, while Deucalion’s wife Pyrrha was the daughter of Pandora. And Pandora’s myth is among the core themes of “Pandora hearts”. If we consider the possibility of VnC and PH’s universes being connected, the idea of Deucalion being Vani’s true name would also make sense… For example, this theory covers the topic.

Left – Noah gives Thanks for Deliverance, 1901, by Domenico Morelli. Here we see Noah from the Old Testament, with his family, as they give thanks for their safe deliverance back to land after surviving the flood. A double rainbow signifies God’s presence.

Right – Deucalion and Pyrrha, 1636–1637, by Rubens. This painting shows a scene from the story of Deucalion and Pyrrha as told by Ovid in Metamorphoses. After surviving the disaster, they had to throw stones over their shoulders, each of which became a new human being.

Even if worlds of Pandora Hearts and Vanitas no Carte don’t exist in the same universe, there clearly is thematical relation between the two stories, one being about hope and another about despair. What’s even more interesting, there was actually a whole discourse about what’s hidden in Pandora’s jar: is it true hope or is it actually an illusion of salvation which hurts even more than actual despair? The translation of the word elpis, the spirit of hope in the jar, is actually neutral in its meaning. It’s simply “hope”, not inherently “good” or “bad”, which leaves a lot of space for interpretation in media.

Vanitas and Noé

Volume 3 cover implies that Vanitas will be marked by an Archiviste. It’s unknown whether this Archiviste would ne Noé or Machina or even some other. I hope it’s gonna be Noé, because it would break a specific border between them and it will definitely be very dramatic, but Machina might do it for the sake of obtaining information, which is her main thing. Anyway, regardless of who does this, when and why, I believe that this moment is probably the real possibility for revealing the true name of Vanitas.

On a side note, it would also be kinda interesting if Noé gets to know Vani’s true name, but it will still be hidden from us, the readers. There’s is also a possibility that Vani’s true name will not be revealed even in this situation. His goal is to erase everything related to the Vampire of the Blue Moon, and I guess that would mean erasing everything about himself too. But in Ch1 he promises to stay here even after he is gone, so it might imply that at least someone will get to remember him — perhaps as Xxxx the human, not Vanitas, kin of the Blue Moon. Which might mean going against Luna’s request…

(Ch. 50)

And, well, Xxxx could de Deucalion. Just think about it: wouldn’t it be cool if both Vani and Noé were given names with similar symbolism behind it and later both assume the moniker of Vanitas?

Plus the whole “loop” thing, like “memory loop” theory and “time loop theory” (here and here) again adds to the idea of connection between them. The loop where ends and beginnings melt into each other, like Ouroboros eating its own tail. The loop between Vanitas and Noé, where they will have to understand pointlessness and hopefulness of life – and what does in mean to save and be saved.

The ultimate hope of survival becomes fleeting dream for all caught in this loop. But every dream is destined to end, as pointed by Saint Germain. And what will happen, when Vanitas and Noé will have to wake up from the dream of their own? What will prevail - death and futility of life or salvation and rebirth?

(Ch. 55)

#vanitas no carte #memoir of vanitas #the case study of vanitas #vnc meta #vnc theory #vnc vanitas #vnc noé #vnc #mochizuki jun #case study of vanitas #noe archiviste #mochijunverse #vanitas no carte meta #vanitas no carte theory

55 notes · View notes

hobiebrownismygod · 7 months

Note

HAIII HELLOOO HOW ARE U DOING so i just had a random idea and i cant stop thinking about it. you can it ignore it i'm just asking

basically hobie x reader (can be fem or gender neautral idc) where reader is like a siren but isnt dangerous and likes swimming in the canal that hobie's boat is in and then like one night he spots reader in the water

idk if that makes sense words are not wording right now 😭 but yeah you can do whatever you like with the rest. thank yewwww 🙏🏾💞

wait omg I love this idea!! its so cute and I totally see why it's been stuck in your head lol I went kind of overboard with the lore for this one. I also made it femreader because that's easier for me to write and hopefully that's okay!! I hope you like how I wrote it <3

PREVIOUS | NEXT

_________________________________________

Humming under his breath, Hobie stood at the edge of his deck, staring out into the distance, mind overrun with quiet thoughts. The night was basically silent, no people nor animals in sight, just Hobie and his canal boat, slowly drifting along the soft waves.

He was still fairly close to shore, and could see some faint lights of alive homes, but it was growing very late, and everyone was going to sleep for the night.

But Hobie couldn't sleep. He was tired, of course, anyone would be after the day he'd had...but he just couldn't sleep.

It was difficult for him to sleep these days. So many scenarios littering his mind, making him think, fear, dream. Not a day went by where he wasn't suddenly awoken by a terrible nightmare, the screeching of civilians flooding his brain, images of horrific villains filling his dreams.

So staring out at the water, enjoying the silence, it was much more calming for him. It was also a way for him to avoid the sleepiness crawling up his spine, latching its gentle claws around his shoulders and pulling him into the soft, warm enclosure of his bed.

But he refused to give in to the temptation, to the tiredness. What he'd experience when he was asleep was too much to bear.

Besides, he couldn't have any nightmares if he was awake.

Suddenly, Hobie's expression perked up, and he leaned his head forward. He'd heard something, but he wasn't sure what. He stopped humming, the area around him falling completely silent as he strained his ears to listen for whatever might have been there.

He heard a faint hum.

His spider-sense began to tingle.

The song was beautiful, nothing like he'd heard before. It was quiet, soft, reminding him of the way a hug would feel, warmth and love, wrapping around one's body and holding them close. It was musical, vibrant, but just enough to make him feel even sleepier than before.

It was also strangely enchanting.

After a beat, Hobie began to hum along. He knew the tune. He wasn't sure how, but he did know it. A simple five or six notes, easy to remember, easy to memorize, easy to single along with.

And then he realized he was humming alone. The other voice had disappeared.

He furrowed his brows, confused as to where it could've gone.

A ripple passed by, just barely changing the surface of the dark, murky water below. He stumbled back slightly, immediately on defense mode as he peered over the edge, gaze hardening over the sight of a few bubbles, slowly rising to the surface.

"Hello?" He called out softly.

For a moment, he thought nothing would happen. That he'd just been imagining it. Hallucinating even, the little sleep he'd had finally getting to him.

But he watched as a pair of eyes appeared, the outline of luscious hair and a head parting the waters, peering up at him.

He stared, mouth opening in awe.

You were beautiful.

Your face was just barely illuminated by the moonlight, glistening down on the droplets dripping down your smooth skin, just your face and neck having protruded out of the water.

You cocked your head to the side slightly, as if curious, inspecting him as he put his hands on the railing separating him from the open waters. "Hello."

His breath hitched in his throat. "Who...are you?" He asked after a moment, struggling to find his voice.

You smiled, enjoying his reaction. Before you could respond you were interrupted by a loud blare. Another boat was approaching, one that looked similar to a police boat almost.

Hobie looked up too, caught off-guard, and his expression immediately hardened. When he noticed you about to submerge yourself in the water again, he quickly reached a hand out.

"Wait!"

You looked back up at him nervously, eyes flitting between him and the slowly approaching vessel. The silence was thick enough to be sliced, his soft breaths and the ripples of the water both louder than the sound of the boat that was coming closer.

Your eyes stayed on each others, hundreds of thousands of words being exchanged in a single moment. It was like he could read your mind, and you could read his. An odd, yet welcomed, connection.

"What are you?" He asked softly. You smiled once again, eyes crinkling up slightly. When you opened your mouth to speak, Hobie was blown away.

What you spoke wasn't English, but it was like he could understand every word, your voice like a tune, another lovely song, sung by a perfect voice. He exhaled softly when you finished, nodding furiously.

"I-uh-" he stuttered, realizing the boat was only getting closer, the officers' voices growing louder and louder. "Do you speak English?" he asked quickly, praying under his breath that your answer would be-

"Yes."

He grinned, cocking his head to the side slightly as he stared down at you. "I-"

The horn of the police boat sounded again and you snapped your head to the side, pretty eyes widening before you looked back at Hobie. He opened his mouth, hoping to delay you just a moment longer, calling out, "Wait-!"

But you were already gone, having disappeared under the surface without a trace, lost to the pitch black, shallow waters of the canal. He stared back at the slight ripples still emanating from where you'd left before running over to motor and roughly turning it on.

He had to escape, as quickly as possible. If he got caught now, he'd be out of a home, and he'd grown quite used to this little boat he loved so much.

But those lovely eyes were still stuck in his head. He chuckled to himself as he turned the tiller, steering himself in the opposite direction of the officers chasing him. He hummed those same four notes to himself, your gorgeous melody turning into a tune he didn't think he'd ever quite forget.

He hoped...no he knew that wouldn't be the last time he saw you. Hobie Brown was never one to let an opportunity slip past him, and this little encounter seemed to be much more than that. The way you'd looked at him, spoke to him, smiled at him-

Could it be fate? Hobie didn't believe in fate.

But this just felt so real. So real that he couldn't help but hope that it was fate.

That he was meant to see you again.

Because he would, whether it was written in the stars or not.

He'd find the girl with a voice of gold.

No matter how long it took.

____________________________

PREVIOUS | NEXT

A/N: Might write a part 2 if enough people ask because I feel like turning this into a series might be really fun but I also don't want to spend time writing it if no one's interested because I have other requests to get to too 😭 lmk if you want another part anon!! I'd be glad to write it <3

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @rinverse @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0uble-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @choccymilkdrinker @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @ask-1610miles @axels-garden @eli21345 @miniaturesuitfox @spotconlon55 @riris-radioactive-panther

Fill this out to be added to the Taglist!! --> LINK

Masterlist --> POST

129 notes · View notes