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#Boothill hsr
l00106 · 2 days
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Boothill day
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121231212i · 2 days
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Honkai: Star rail | Version 2.2
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shampookoski · 2 days
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BOOTHILL in VERSION 2.2 TRAILER - TIME TO WAKE UP | HONKAI: STAR RAIL
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odekoyma · 16 hours
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BOOTHILL IS A COW-boy, friends
Took a part from Version 2.2 stream with Robin being too precious
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haejjoon · 2 days
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wip
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jqnehr · 1 day
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❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.
boothill x fem!reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).
𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.
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"You look like you should be in a saloon."
The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.
He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."
"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."
"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"
"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."
"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"
"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."
"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."
"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"
"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"
"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."
"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"
You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."
"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."
"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"
He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"
You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."
He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."
"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."
"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."
"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.
"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."
"You can't swear?"
"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."
You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."
"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."
"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."
He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."
"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.
"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."
"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."
Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"
"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."
He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"
You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."
"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."
You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."
"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."
You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."
He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."
"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"
He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."
So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."
With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.
you forgot to pay the bill for your drink
so I covered it for you.
you owe me one, cowboy
His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.
Oopsies 🤭
How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?
His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.
Alright then
I want steak
Can you even eat?
You liked how he always replied fast.
Nah
But that's fine
Your company's better
Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.
Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.
Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.
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© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
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xiao-come-home · 3 days
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Making Boothill a new hat and now he's going to wear it everywhere. And if someone dares to insult or damage it? They better say their prayers.
Angry as f Boothill... Oh Lord help us all 🥶
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OH HE'S NOT LETTING THIS ONE GO FOR A LONG TIME. It's probably not as bad when someone insults it - although Boothill just might almost break their jaw and throw insults at them (even though it comes out as "just what! Did ya say about my hat, FRECKLE!"), he'll remember that person till they, literally, die.
"Oh, we meet again. The stink that insulted my hat, from my beloved. Hope ya feel peachy (like shit) today."
Boothill truly loves the hat you made him - it's like a mobile piece of your heart he's able to move anywhere, especially if you aren't accompanying him that day! It reminds him of you, your smell, your love for him, and but most importantly—
Poof! Someone shoots a bullet.
It didn't harm Boothill - thank aeons - but his new hat falls on the floor, the now new, uninvited hole carved into it.
...But most importantly, your poured your entire heart into it, and await for him at home.
Boothill freezes for a while, throwing off the shooter, or - how the cyborg decided to call them - the victim; he bends down and picks up the hat, dusting it off carefully, his thumb trailing the outline of the ugly he from the bullet.
"Do you know what have you done?" Boothill's tone is cold like ice; he stands still with his back facing the poor person, his snowy hair floating gently against the wind. The person doesn't seem to answer his question, making him even more agitated.
"I said," Boothill almost growls, spitting out a bullet and turning around, "do ya know what have ya just done?!"
Crimson flashes in his eyes; the bystanders only hear rapid sounds of fired bullets, almost if they had their own mind and hatred to the person they're targeting.
Even though Boothill comes out victorious in this battle (duh!), he plops down on the couch defeated, sighing and clinging the hat to his chest. You kiss and cradle his cheek, feeling him nuzzle into your hand; he closes his eyes in content, but still feeling uneasy inside.
"Some donkey (dick) destroyed my new hat. So I taught them a lesson." He explains calmly and hands you the headpiece. He opens one of his eyes and observes you quietly, awaiting your reaction.
"It's alright - I can fix this for you," you answer gently, giving him a soft smile; your eyes examine the place of the unfortunate bullet that once went through. You can see the wide smile on his face in the corner of your eye, shortly after feeling the familiar, sweet warmth of his lips on your palm.
"But you need to get cleaned up first... There's blood on the entire couch, Boothill!"
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gearsofmetal · 2 days
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He has no choice.
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invidiia · 2 days
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imagine teaching boothill your native language, and y'all come up with an idea to see if he can curse if it isn't in english
"Now, say... hm.. idi na hui!"
"Darlin, speak faster,"
"Ah.. right.. idi.. na.. hui."
"#%+ $@ &*=!"
"Aw.."
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b1adie · 2 days
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hey did anyone else notice they gave his metal tits jiggle physics
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mirrology · 3 days
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— Rowdy .ᐟ ☆
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୨୧ rowdy: ( noun) a noisy and disorderly person. (adjective) noisy and disorderly.
Ft. boothill, gender neutral reader. platonic. Wc: 722
Content: short bit of hc's and a small fic at the end, readers age is not specified, boothill being a little shit, he cares abt u tho, typical sibling shenanigans, sibling bonding, cursing, boothill may be ooc.
A/n: first ever platonic boothill fic /j, also this is kinda lazy but whatever.
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He would definitely be one of those annoying brothers that come into your room just to look at you, then leave without closing the door.
but he genuinely cares about you and your safety considering his job as a galaxy ranger.
Boothill also definitely calls you runt, squirt, & kid no matter how old you are or no matter how much you complain.
Frequently ruffles your hair as a sign of affection, although this ends in bickering when you do your hair before it.
Definitely can't cook for shit, every time he tries to make something for you out of the kindness of his heart, he absolutely wrecks it.
It ends up burnt and inedible, and a purple aura around in a cartoonish fashion. and oh, the poor kitchen, you can't count how many times you've had to fix something. it has gone through a lot.
The two of you have sleepovers where you do skincare, watch movies and gossip about anything and everything.
you would think that Boothill is more of a horror movie and/or action movies type guy but he has a soft spot for sappy romance movies and the saddest films possible.
and if you feel like it, both of you talk about your love life.
Trains you by sparring in hand-to-hand combat, he usually wins the sparring, but you've gotten close to beating him.
After your training session you flop on the floor like a dead fish and beg him to carry you back inside, he obliges but not before teasing you for falling to the ground.
he picks you up in a princess carry or in a piggy back ride.
Boothill gives you things at the most random times, "oh but it's not a holiday or anything special today!" you can say but he won't care. accept his gift.
If you just as much glance at something in a store for 1 millisecond you'll find said thing in a gift bag with a little note, handwritten by him.
Since he's part robot he can't drink water or even touch it or he will malfunction, even though he's made to sustain the harsh weather of the desert and attacks from the criminals he hunts down.
so if he's being stubborn and does go through with touching water, you're the one who (quite literally) brings him back to life.
and because of this you've become well-versed in technology. you constantly fix anything that is wrong, such as a jammed finger. Although can't seem to get rid of that swear filter that he's unfortunately stuck with.
Overall Boothill is a very fun elder brother who wants to keep you safe.
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You woke up to the feeling of being moved from your spot on your desk. you had been working on one of your tech projects, spending hours on end tinkering away in your room. You cracked one eye open, sleep pulling at your eyes, wanting them to close one more. You were met with the familiar face of your brother above you. then you registered the feeling of his hand on your back and underneath your knees.
Boothill noticed your sleepy gaze on him, and he smiled cheekily, "Heya, runt. I see ya' woke up" he chuckled in amusement at your disheveled appearance. He laid you down on your bed and placed the covers over your body, you immediately sank into your mattress and the soft feeling of the blanket on top of you was making you sleepier.
"Jeez, how long have ya' been up?" His smile dropped a little as he noticed a faint outline of dark circles underneath your eyes. "dunno..." you slurred out and turned to your side, facing him. "Hey, big bro?" you quietly said, Boothill raised an eyebrow "yea?" he asked.
You softly grinned, "Love ya'" you said, then suddenly being interrupted by a yawn. there was silence as your eyes drooped and eventually closed as you fell into a deep slumber.
Boothill stared at your sleeping face, it wasn't exactly surprising that you had said that you loved him. It was just that you didn't say it often, it wasn't that you didn't want to. Boothill's schedule is almost always full, so spending time with him can be hard. A rare soft smile graced his features and he reached over to caress your head.
"I love ya' too, kid." He whispered.
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Thinking about Boothill x reader x Argenti rn... Between two completely different types of men.... HBWHJSKJSKJSK
PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE THIS
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121231212i · 2 days
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Honkai: Star rail | Boothill's In-battle Poses
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vinestaff · 3 days
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i think i have a type
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aeonophagic · 2 days
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void archives centric solar system
some notes, since i couldn’t fit them on the canvas:
void archives with welt is relatively difficult but not so much where he can’t handle it. he can put them on a leash if he wants to. when he leaves them alone with either of the other two, however,
in short: void/welt—married. void/hill—freaky side chick to psychologically torture^1. void/day—freaky side chick to psychologically torture^2.
about the body types/heights—
VA: sharp and slim, wide angular shoulders. the tallest of the four, meant to be long. uncanny valley incarnate. at least 200cm.
Welt: dad bod, because he’s 80 years old, but a well defined one—‘traiblazing makes me feel younger’ cit. around 180cm
Boothill: Long Legs. around 190cm—his height was enhanced when they replaced his body
Sunday: soft shapes to contrast the sharp shapes of the clothes he wears, which make him look bigger. he’s the only one whose height is relatively normal, which leads to him being the shortest out of the four. about 170/175cm
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valenrien · 2 days
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my humble offering for the fellow boothill enjoyers 🤲
im gonna be honest i have mixed feelings about this one, im not really satisfied with it . oh well my next piece of him will be better this one was just ... getting used to all the details also some parts were kinda rushed :p
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