#(She is my favorite female sinner)

[tatzebea]

Small Ryōshū

#limbus company #ryoshu #lcb ryoshu #limbus company ryoshu #(I posted my biggest plush) #(Now I post my smallest plush^^) #I made a very small Ryōshū plush) #(She is my favorite female sinner) #(if you are wondering she is around hand size) #(I also made her odachi) #(Which is very small too) #(I had to use a needle to write the japanese) #(I tried my best) #(She took a lot of time tbh) #(One would think smaller makes it faster) #(But it made it even longer) #(Because of the clothes having to be so small)

[lxkeee]

CHAINED BY DESIRES

—ONESHOT

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Sinner! Fem! Reader

Genre: Romance

Warnings: Lucifer owns your soul in this one. Slightly suggestive at the end, no smut.

Notes: I noticed that many writers have been writing about the reader preening Lucifer's wings and I may have accidentally joined into writing one.

SMUT | NAV.

Lucifer Morningstar, despite being the ruler of hell, the symbol of evil. He never really is the type to make deals in exchange for a person's soul. Well, he owns one soul—a sinner's soul, the soul of [y/n]. He managed to save her one time from other sinners while he was out on the pentagram city. The girl offered her soul in return, promising her loyalty and he rejected at first but the sinner was persistent.

“You're highness, please. Please accept my soul, I want to work for you. I swear to you my loyalty.” the girl says, kneeling in front of him, pleading to him to accept her soul. Lucifer was nervous, he never tried owning a soul before and this sinner is persistent.

“No.” Lucifer deadpans making the female sinner pout, looking up at him with those pretty eyes. He gulped nervously, he didn't expect a sinner to be this beautiful. He shakes away the thoughts, guilty for thinking about such lustful thoughts despite just recently splitting with his ex-wife, Lilith.

“Please, I trust you more than I trust these demons around me... Please, I can work for you.” She pleaded with teary eyes that made him guilty, Lucifer sighs, clearly already second guessing his decisions as golden paper appeared out of thin air, floating towards the sinner.

“Alright, fine. Please read the fine print.” he deadpans and the sinner's eyes gleam as she reads the paper. Lucifer wasn't asking much of her, he just wanted her as his assistant as he had trouble managing his own kingdom after Lilith left and he promised to only own half of her soul inside the palace.

“Well, is the agreement to your liking?” he asked, running his hands through his hair. Already contemplating if he's doing something right.

“Yes, thank you so much Sir!” She says as a pen manifested out of thin air and she gently grabbed it and signed her name—[y/n] in a pretty cursive writing. The paper rolls into a scroll and to seal the deal, Lucifer offers his hand for a handshake.

“I hope you don't disappoint me.” he says with a small smirk and [y/n]'s shakes his hand and gold immediately surrounded them and a golden chain was wrapped around [y/n]'s pretty throat, the chain attached to Lucifer's hand.

[Y/n] brought her hand to feel the chains around her neck, she's surprised it isn't tight—it felt comfortable even. Like a necklace. Lucifer watched her, admiring the chain around her neck and admiring that her other eye had a black sclera—a symbol that her soul had already been owned by him.

With a smile he began to walk out of the alleyway, “Follow me, you'll begin working today.” he says and the girl follows him eagerly.

It has been seven years since she started working for him, surprisingly, [y/n] was able to professionally do her work as his assistant, usually the one overseeing important matters in his place. At first, Lucifer doubted her for her skills but she proved him wrong. He can't function without her help.

All these years, [y/n] has been his rock. Making sure he's not breaking down, making sure he is properly taken care of.

Lucifer admits to himself that he is slowly falling in love with the woman, how couldn't he? [Y/n] is amazing, beautiful, kind, and smart.

Knock, knock, knock.

He flinches, his thoughts momentarily cut off from surprise. He turned around to see you at the door, a worried look on your face.

“Sir, I brought you dinner. We're having crispy chicken fettuccine tonight,” she says as she walked inside his room and placed down a plate of the dish on to his coffee table, “and for dessert, your favorite apple pie.” she says softly with a smile, placing down a plate of a single slice of apple pie right beside the plate of pasta.

Lucifer smiled at her, giving her a small nod, “Thank you, [y/n].” he says and the woman nodded and gave him a small bow, “It is my pleasure, sir. Excuse me.” she says softly and turns around to leave the room.

Before she could leave he stopped her, “Wait...!” he calls out, [y/n] stopping as she turns back around to look at him, giving him a raised eyebrow.

“What is it, Sir?” she asked softly, leaning against the doorframe. Goodness, she looked so attractive leaning against the doorframe with her hands crossed over her chest, the black suit paired with a red tie hugged her frame perfectly, showing off her curves.

Lucifer's cheeks heat up as he admired her form and also from the inevitable question he wanted to ask, he's been wondering when the perfect time he could ask her. It's not like it would be the first time they did it but he's embarrassed, he's embarrassed to ask her for help to preen his feathers. [Y/n] helped him countless times with his wings before but now that he already came to the realization that he has feelings for his assistant, he's having second thoughts as his wings are one of his most sensitive areas.

(You thought he wanted to have sex didn't you? SpongeBob that is so disgustin—me too.)

But his wings have been rather unkept and itchy lately and he's in desperate need of assistance as he has three pairs of wings.

[Y/n] looked at Lucifer with a raised eyebrow, wondering why he suddenly became quiet, “Is everything fine, Lu?” she asked worriedly, calling him the nickname she gave him instead of 'Sir'. Lucifer chuckles softly, “I am fine,” he says nervously before taking a deep breath, “I was wondering if...” he trails off.

[Y/n]'s cheeks flushed a little, her mind already jumping to multiple scenarios. “Is he going to ask me out?” she thought to herself, ears warming at the thought. [Y/n] won't deny to herself that she developed a crush on her boss, the literal king of hell, the most beautiful angel heaven created. She doesn't want to give herself hope, considering how much she knows the man is deeply in love with his ex-wife, she can't just replace Lilith.

Lucifer looked at her, clearly flustered and embarrassed, “I was wondering if you have time later? I need some assistance with my wings.” he whispers shyly and [y/n] swear she could hear her thoughts shattering as she forced a smile on herself, “Of course, I have time to help you. I'll drop by after dinner to help you with your wings.” She says with a smile, I knew it.

Lucifer nodded, a small grin on his face, “Thank you, [y/n]. I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here.” he admits softly, the glow of the chandelier highlighting the softness of his handsome face, making her heart hammer against her ribcage.

[Y/n] smiled at him, praying that he couldn't hear how loud and fast her heart was beating, “The pleasure is all mine, now... Please excuse me.” [y/n] says with a smile, a hand over her heart as she gave him a curt bow before her body transitioned into a shadow and she quickly left his room.

Lucifer lets out a heavy exhale, his heart beating so loud and fast against his ribcage. Why does it feel like I just finished confessing to her? He thought to himself, cheeks warm and red like the apple he offered to Eve.

He plops to his bed, his arm over his eyes as he tries to calm down his fast beating golden heart.

He eventually got out of bed, taking the plate of pasta that [y/n] prepared and brought it to him. Taking a bite, warmth spreads to his cheeks. Delicious as always.

“Alright, let's get started with those wings, shall we?” [y/n] says softly as she sits beside Lucifer, his wings spread apart as he lies on his bed, stomach first, using his arms as a pillow or support for his head.

Her hands caressed the bone that connects his wings to his back, making Lucifer whine.

You don't have any idea what you're doing to me.

They both thought at the same time, unknowingly. Cheeks warm, goosebumps running down their skin.

[Y/n] began to untangle the feather tips—the tips where it accidentally snucked in an area where it isn't supposed to, pinching the newly formed feather, rubbing it ever so gently to remove the shell.

Lucifer began to relax, finally feeling relief from his feathers. Occasional moans and whimpers leaving his lips, her fingers against his sensitive wings, making his stomach flutter and warm. There is just something with this act that feels so intimate for him.

[Y/n] was focused, ensuring that she is doing a perfect job in preening his feathers, grooming his wings to absolute perfection like the angel he is. She admires his wings, white and pure, soft to the touch. Tracing her fingers on the alula of his wings, making the male shudder.

It took some time, considering Lucifer had six wings. [Y/n] was able to finish in helping him with his wings. “And done,” she says with a satisfied smile and Lucifer hides his wings away, turning around to face her, now lying on his back.

They stared at each other, half-lidded eyes. Cheeks warm, [y/n] clears her throat and breaks off their staring contest.

“Well, is there anything else you need help with?” [y/n] asked, returning to meet his eyes, looking down on the man lying on his back. The soft glow of the chandelier makes his features prominent—the softness of his cheeks, the plumpness of his lips, his red eyes through his eyelashes. Absolutely divine.

Lucifer clears his throat, words stuck in there. So many unsaid words waiting to be said. Finally finding strength to speak, he looked at her with a small smile.

“That would be all, thank you.” he says, avoiding her gaze. [Y/n] just gave him a raised eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She can feel that there's something bothering him, he literally owns her soul, she could feel his internal struggle.

With a sigh, she places a finger underneath his chin, tilting his head so he looks at her eye-to-eye, “Come on Lu, I can tell there's something else that's bothering you.” she says to him, Lucifer's cheeks reddened, caught off guard by the act.

“Uh-well...” he stammers, nervous. He can already feel the words already climbing up his throat threatening to spill out of his lips.

“I am afraid to say it, I am afraid that it'll ruin us.” he whispers, avoiding her gaze once more. [Y/n]'s eyes softened, unsure what he meant with that.

“What do you mean, Lu?” She asked, voice gentle like winds that used to caress his skin whenever he flies around heaven. With a deep sigh, he gathered hus courage and looked at her.

“I am in love with you... Ever since we met and each day my feelings for keeps getting stronger and stronger and I don't know how to hide it anymore and I am scared you'll leave me.” He says in one breath, closing his eyes as he was afraid to see her reaction.

It took [y/n] a moment to process his words, when she did, her jaw dropped. Heat creeped up to his cheeks, heart thumping loudly against her chest. For a brief moment, the world slowed down and the only thing she could see was him—Lucifer, lying on his back and on his bed with his eyes closed. Strands of his light blond hair falling gently into his face, cheeks reddened more than usual. He loves her, he actually loves her back.

Using her fingers to tuck away the falling strands of hair away from his face, his breath hitched at the contact of her skin against his.

“Lucifer, look at me please?” [y/n] asked softly, hand cupping his cheek. Lucifer shakes his head, “I am afraid that the moment I'll open my eyes you'll be gone.” he admits softly and weakly.

[Y/n] sighs softly, eyes soft and half-lidded, “Please? Open those beautiful eyes for me?” she pleaded, silently chuckling as the redness of Lucifer's cheeks darkened even more.

Lucifer hesitantly opens his eyes, seeing [y/n] beautiful face first looking at him with so much adoration. Did she used to look at him like that before?

“Luci...” she began, placing a hand on his cheek, “What'll happen if I say... I love you too?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. Lucifer's eyes widened, ears heating up, his stomach fluttering like there were a million butterflies inside it.

“I too would like to know what'll happen...” he admits softly and [y/n] chuckles, “But one thing I am certain of is that... I want to be yours.” Lucifer admits, sure and confident. Catching her off guard, he admires how the red blooms into her cheeks, the usual and composed woman now a blushing mess.

But that doesn't mean he wasn't flustered, he didn't even know what came over him to say those words. But he is sure that that is what he wanted—to be hers.

“Oh stars... Lucifer, you're making me want to kiss you so bad...” [y/n] says with a chuckle and Lucifer held her hand, kissing her wrist.

“Then what's stopping you?” he asked, looking up from her hand, his lips still pressed against her wrist. Eyes half-lidded as he gazed at her.

[Y/n]'s breath hitched, flustered, “Are you sure it's okay?” she asked softly and Lucifer nodded, “Yes, please kiss me.” he pleaded, almost desperate.

Gathering enough courage, [y/n] slowly leans down to kiss him. She was taking some time and Lucifer just placed his hand behind her neck, pulling him down so her lips would crash against his.

Lips moving against each other, they kissed each other with desperation. Seven years of wanting each other, waiting for this moment. They finally have it. Moans and whines, leaving their lips.

“Please... [Y/n], I need you.” Lucifer pleaded, desperate to feel all of her. “As you wish...” she whispers, equally desperate to feel him.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @akiqvq @the-attention-whore

#hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader smut

[alastor-simp]

Female Demon Who Sings Like "Ado" - Hazbin Hotel Gang Part 1/2

❥Note: This headcannon is going to be the hazbin hotel gang reacting to a demon who sings like my favorite singer Ado. This is similar to what I did for Twisted Wonderland. Similar to that, the characters are going to have a favorite song by the "Ado" reader as well.

Might have more than one favorite song choice for certain characters (Charlie and Alastor) since I know how much they adore music. This will be in in two parts. Enjoy everyone:)

Charlie🌈

🌈Charlie was a MASSIVE fan of music. She wasn't picky about any genre or form, she does adored music. She is the type of person who would go to musicals 24/7 and just admire it all. She could also sing as well, which increased her love for music tremendously

🌈She had found you one day, wondering the streets of Pentagram City, appearing lost and confused. Being the sweetie she was, she dragged you back to the hotel, saying you could stay there for as long as you want. The two of you became quick friends after that encounter.

🌈Her discovery of your amazing talent was entirely accidental. She was wondering around the hotel gardens, when she heard someone belting out a high note. She ran towards where the sound was coming from to discover you. You were gracefully moving your body, twirling around, as you continued to sing. You were so lost in your singing that you didn't notice Charlie.

🌈Once you were finished, a loud squealing was heard next to you, causing you to turn your head in shock. Charlie was bouncing up and down in excitement, eyes shining in amazement. She ran up to you and started asking you a thousand questions a second, ranging from "OH MY SATAN!! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD SING?!" to "WHAT LANGUAGE WAS THAT! TELL ME!" After waiting for Charlie to calm down, you went and explained your past life to her.

🌈You told her you were a very famous singer in Japan. You started singing at a young age, doing some song covers on the internet and eventually got discovered by a very famous music company, and started singing your own songs as well as performing in live concerts. Charlie listened to everything you were saying, eyes filled with excitement. She never heard of a "Utaite" before, but she was adamant in learning more about it.

🌈You told her that you wanted to continue singing even in Hell, but you knew that it was going to be an easy thing to accomplish down here. Welp, never underestimate Charlie. She would go out of her way to find a popular music corporation in Hell to hire you, and if not, she would hire you personally to sing at the Hazbin Hotel. She even contacted her dad to help with everything, setting up a recording room in the hotel, and also setting up a stage/venue in the hotel for you to perform as well.

🌈You tried to tell Charlie she didn't have to do all of this, but she said it was perfectly fine. She wanted you to continue your passion for singing. She gave out flyers to everyone in hell and also made another advertisement, letting everyone know to come to Hazbin Hotel to see you perform. Everything was set in place, but there was one problem, your identity. You preferred your face and identity to be kept secret in Hell, it was what you did when you were alive so you preferred to keep it that way. Charlie was quick to remedy that. She could try to see if her dad or Alastor could you their powers to change your form or wear a mask to conceal your face.

🌈Your first performance at the hotel was a huge success. All the sinners who attended were left stunned by your amazing vocals. The hotel became increasingly popular after that, more sinners would come to the hotel to attend your performances, and some of the demons who came actually wondered about the whole redemption process, and maybe would want to give it a try.

🌈Charlie became a bit of a music producer for you. She would help with setting up for you performances and she would also listen to a new song you were creating, offering tips and support. Her favorite songs that she enjoys from you is "New Genesis" and "Fireworks"

Vaggie🎀

🎀Vaggie enjoyed music, but not as much as her girlfriend, Charlie. She was Salvadoran, so her preferred genre consisted more of Latino/Hispanic songs, but she did love it when Charlie would sing.

🎀She first met you when Charlie brought you to the hotel. The grip on her spear was strong, but the more she interacted with you, the less she gripped onto her spear. She soon realized you weren't much of a threat, and considered you an avid member of the hotel.

🎀She had no idea you were musically talented until she heard you one day on the hotel roof. She was heading up there to deal with her migraine after dealing with Angel and Alastor's shenanigans. Getting ready to push the door, she stopped when she heard singing from the other side.

🎀Curious, she opened the roof door slowly. Peaking through, she spotted you, at the edge of the hotel roof, your back facing her. Your voice was memorizing, and she was really drawn to your lyrics despite not understanding fully what they meant. Once you finished, you heard clapping. Turning around, you realized Vaggie was behind you, sporting a small grin.

🎀She walked closer to you, with her hands on her hips while you looked away flustered. “Quite a powerful voice you got.” She smiled back at you, and took noticed of your shy expression. Vaggie questioned what was wrong and you heaved a sigh, explaining your past.

🎀You told her about your life in Japan, and how at the age of 17, you got founded by a popular music company, and began singing and performing music on the internet and live shows. You did mention that you almost never revealed your identity whenever you sang, which is why you were embarrassed when Vaggie found you. Vaggie was amazed when you told her your life story, and felt slightly bad.

🎀She gave you a shoulder hug, and went on to describe that your voice was astounding, and she thinks she can help you and maybe speak to Charlie about your talent, maybe become beneficial for the hotel as well.

🎀After Vaggie spoke to Charlie and Alastor, since he was interested in the idea, the three of them helped to create another radio station tower in the hotel, where you could broadcast your singing, and maintain your identity as well. The hotel got its own frequency, which would help broadcast to all the radios in hell as well. After your performances, you would also throw in a small ad about the Hazbin Hotel and recommended sinners to attend.

🎀The hotel did gain a bit more popularity after that, with a few sinners coming to the hotel for redemption, which made Charlie and Vaggie extremely happy. Vaggie had gotten much closer with you after that, making sure you were well rested and giving your voice a break and bringing you meals when you were broadcasting to make sure you were eating. Her favorite song of yours is "Value"

Angel Dust🕸

🕸Angel Dust was an avid music listener. He enjoyed a lot of pop and jazz songs. He was a stripper/porn star, so he would pole dance to a lot of the sexual/seductive songs for customers.

🕸He was lounging on the hotel couch, when he heard Charlie announce that there was a new guest at the hotel. He looked up, and saw you walking along with Charlie, appearing very shy. "Heh, cute." he thought. It was a bit awkward in the beginning, considering how timid you were, but he eventually warmed up to you, becoming your best friend.

🕸The both of you hanged out a lot, either you crashing in Angel's room or him coming to yours, to either chat or laze about. He was making his way to your room at high speed. He was irritated with work and he needed to rant to you about it since you would always listen to him. Entering inside your room, he noticed you were not there. Sounds of running water could heard, which made Angel realize that you were taking a shower in the bathroom.

🕸Shrugging his shoulders, he decided he would wait for you to finish, plopping onto your bed. As he was laying there, he heard the sounds of someone singing. Angel arched his head on the bed, trying to hear it better, realizing that you were the one that was singing. Your voice was flowing into him, giving him goosebumps all throughout his body. The effects of your singing was almost putting him into a trance, like he was getting high on drugs again.

🕸The sound of the water turned off, bringing Angel back to reality. Walking out the bathroom with a towel on your head and loungewear, you glanced up, only to jump in shock at seeing Angel laying on your bed, smirking at you. "Nice set of pipes you got there toots!" Angel said, as he continued to smirk at you, based on how red your face was.

🕸Covering your face, you slowly sank to the floor, which caused Angel to give you a concerned look. "Woah woah! Toots, what's wrong? I wasn't making fun of ya. You sounded really good." Angel got up from the bed, and bent down to pick you up, walking back to the bed and placing you on it as he took a seat on it again.

🕸Angel continued to observe you, worried that he had hurt your feelings. Finally, you removed your hands from your face, staring back at Angel. You told him that you were just shocked and very embarrassed that he saw you singing, since you were more use to singing privately. Angel raised an eyebrow, wondering what you meant. Heaving a sigh, you told Angel about your past life when you were still alive.

🕸You told him you were Japanese and when you got a bit older, you started singing song covers and posted them on the Internet, but you concealed your identity. After a while of doing that, a music company founded you and immediately got you. You continued singing and making new songs as time went by, coming a very well known singer in your country until your death. After telling Angel all of that, you told him that you still wanted to continue singing, but it was just a bit more difficult, being in hell and all.

🕸Angel was smiling down at you kindly, two of his arms still placed on your shoulders. He was happy you told him all of this, and glad that he didn't upset you. He was actually kinda stunned too, at that fact that he was friends with a very famous singer and had no idea about it until now. He wanted to press more on why you hid your identity, but he shot that thought down as he came to the conclusion that if it made you more comfortable that way, then it’s fine.

🕸️”Well why don’t you start singing again. With a voice like that, you would have sinners crawling all over you, begging for you to sing to them?” He said, as he waited for your response. You told him that it wasn't gonna be easy, especially since you didn't know where to start and you didn't have powers to conceal your identity. Angel threw his head back in laughter, before looking back at you "Haha! Toots, I know several clubs in the area that you could perform at. Trust me. They always looking for someone. And the whole identity thing, you can always wear a disguise or put on makeup. I do drag so I'll be able to help ya out with the look."

🕸After that, Angel basically dragged you to all the clubs that he and Cherri have gone too that he knew were top class, and not sleazy like other places. He avoided the ones that he knew his boss, Valentino, frequented. Last thing he wanted was for him to spot you and drag you into a soul contract, like he did to him. You were finally able to find one that looked amazing inside and out, had good pay, and also had a boss who wasn't a total a✪✪hat.

🕸Your first performance at the club blew the audience away. The more and more you performed, the more sinners would pile up in the club. There was even lines outside, waiting to see you perform. Angel was able to conceal your identity, by putting on makeup on you, and also giving you a wig and other accessories to make you appear much different then how you normally looked.You became well known in that area in hell, even the internet was buzzing about you and how amazing you were.

🕸Angel became your sort of stylist and bodyguard. He would help with your outfits and makeup, and he would stick around during all of your shows, as he wanted to make sure no one attempted anything, and he also wanted to enjoy your singing. His favorite song of yours is "Chocolat Cadabra"

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2

Tag List:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac , @sweet06tart , @nobuharashinyao , @aria-tempest , @fluffismystaplefood , @darischerry , @nightmarenaya , @mooniee123 , @yakultt-art , @ktssstuff , @blakedbeanss , @sweet06tart , @ihyperfixatedagain , @alastorssimp , @sadnessiscoldtea , @artemisandhunters , @crystalreads , @thereeallink , @justchillaine , @felice-jaganshi , @batmanmonstarr , @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @imacollasaltitan , @ask-theradio-demon , @lousypotatoes

#Youtube #ado singer #ado #japanese song #japanese singer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #angel dust #part 1/2 #part 1 #Japanese singer Ado #x reader #hazbin hotel headcannon #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious x reader #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel husk #husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x Ado reader #🇯🇵

[intrinsicepiphany]

Okay tumblr lets talk theories again.

(my brain rot + knowledge of religion has me all up in Hazbin Hotel right now.)

Today I want to talk Biology! Mostly because I made the poor choice of going to Twitter's chaggie tag and looking at the comments...

So can we discuss Why do so many people keep trying to apply HUMAN biology to the Half-Demon Nephillim daughter of an Arch-Angel?!

Okay I'll start at the begining and work my way to the reasons why if Charlie really wants a kid with Vaggie both of them being assigned female at creation probably isn't going to matter.

Let's start with Lucifer!

So as far as has been shown in the show Lucifer is an original Archangel even down to his lovely 6 red wings. This makes him one of the most powerful beings in heaven.

(If we go by bible text he was actually a favorite until his dreams of free will led him astray and depending on the text he merely has to admit he was wrong and ask for forgiveness to return)

Now looking at everything after this fall he has never lost his Angelic Abilities. His default powers are still angelic gold.

We do see he also has a Full Demon form when he is pissed. Interestingly enough his crown also doubles as a halo in this form. Also note for later just how much Charlie resembles him in both forms.

This suggest that at root biology Lucifer is still an archangel with demon traits. This combination is most likely what makes him the strongest being in hell by a long shot. The only reason others even have power is purely because he doesnt care enough to flex his power and has no desire to actually rule.

Now on to Lilith!

What do we know about Lilith?

Well we know she was a created human not born.

She was Adam's equal

And she left and got with Lucifer before the fall.

So here is the deal... I dont think Lilith can be classified as a sinner. She didnt die to end up in hell and in fact she fell before hell was really a thing. she helped create it after all. (Plus you know Charlie exsists)

So what IS Lilith? I think Lilith as one of a few Actual Demons. And if we have to classify her she'd be closer to a Sin. I actually think of Lilith as the Sin of Pride in Hazbin Hotel not Lucifer. We are even told that She created pentagram city and developed hell while lucifer kept to his workshop in depression.

Now let's talk about this scene for a second. Lilith fell from heaven/earth Alive and possibly even immortal since human kind was immortal before Eve took the apple.

Lilith gains power from her fall into hell. She develops demon like attributes and seems to have musical based magic. She also seems to retain or get immortality. So what does this fall mean? It means that Lilith was NOT HUMAN by the time Charlie was born.

So what does this mean for Charlie?

Well for one Charlie is NOT just some Hellborn. She is by Definition a Nephilim but she is not half-human. She would most likely be considered a Half-Demon, Half-Angel Nephilim.

This would explain her expansive (if never used) power base. The official power ranking has her tied with Lilith with only Lucifer being more powerful. Which makes complete sense. She is the Heir to the entire thing after all. (I actually think this is why Alastor couldnt make a deal for her soul and settled for a favor instead)

She also inheirited Angelic powers from her father. As seen by the fact that her default magic is gold. Which means she has angel blood in her veins. Lets be honest i wouldnt be surprised if she ended up bleeding gold in the future.

In fact she seems to have inherited most of her abilities from dear old dad.

Im pretty sure that just by shear ability and magic if Charlie wanted a kid she could probably create/magic one into exsistance no matter who her partner was.

But lets review Vaggie just for fun! Because I have thoughts

What do we actually know about Vaggie?

Well we know she is an angel. I say is because I dont think Lute or Adam actually have the power to cast an angel out of heaven AND she gets her wings back. This would mean she is not actually a sinner she would be closer to a fallen angel like lucifer.

We know she speaks Spanish and seems to be of Hispanic nature. BUT! Do we know if she was ever really human?!

We know Adam claims to have named her Vaggie. This could suggest three things

1) exorcist take on a new name when they join. But if this was true why wouldnt she leave this name behind and return to her human name once in hell? It would have kept her secret better and you'd figure she would want to leave behind the negative feelings that would come with her exorcist name.

2) Adam in his self-centered ways misheard her real name (maybe something like Aggie from Agatha or Maggie) and thought she said Vaggie or actively chose to misinterpret her name and she never cared to correct him. BUT Once more why would she not just return to her real name once with Charlie in hell?

Or 3) And this one is the real kicker. Vaggie is a Heaven-born Angel.

If the answer is 3 than it would imply that she was never human which brings her closer to lucifers biology.

Some other interesting things to consider about this last theory. Lute and Vaggie resemble each other a great deal. In fact, all the exorcist seem to have a similar body type. (I mean you could argue its the uniform but even without the uniform the resembalance between lute and vaggie is uncanny) and if I remember correctly at one point the exterminators are refered to as sister? I mean this could mean sisters-in-arms BUT What if ALL exorcist were heaven-born?

If they were never human this could explain both their ability and their desire to slay sinners. Much like Sera they wouldn't have any sympathy for the dammed because they wouldn't have any possible family that could end up down there. They would also have Very little connection to or concern for former humans. After all like Adam said they had their chance and they screwed up.

So in the end what does this all mean?

Well I actually already kind of said it

1) Fandom really needs to stop applying human biology to Charlie. She is a half demon half archangel Nephilim with incredible magic.

If charlie wants a kid she can probably magic one up no matter the obsticles please stop asking artist and writers how it is possible for her and vaggie to have a kid/get pregnant if they are both women - the answer is Charlie Magic.

2) all 4 of the above have the potential to be way stronger than they have been shown in the show.

And

3) Charlie is a potential BadAss and is just too nice to go full tactical nuke - this will be covered in my next ted talk.

#hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #vaggie #chaggie

[poisonheiress]

Vivziepop's ability to decay any women and fem-aligned characters she creates has always haunted Helluva Boss, and as a result, limits them to being one dimensional characters that fall into a "with them or against them" mentality when it comes to her male characters; they only exists to prop up other (male) characters or to serve as morally bankrupt villains.

From Verosika to Stella to Loona and Millie, this trend is clear from the beginning of the show and likely will follow it to the end. However, for this post I will discuss the recent victims of this trend: the lovely Glitz and Glam.

To be honest, I adore Glitz and Glam (to the point of writing fan fiction for them) and they have become my favorite characters in the entire show so this discussion will show some bias towards them. While some may say its too early for this call as they will be seen again, but from what I've seen on twitter from fans and even creators of their song alike, I do not have the hope this will occur.

From the beginning, Glitz and Glam are looked down on for their desire to win and for doing anything they can to get that position. When confronted with Fizz's kind words of support, they look down on him and further emphasize how they are going to win against him even gaining the title of "snatches" and "sluts" by Blitzo. From this moment forward, its clear the narrative doesn't want us to look kindly upon the sisters. After all, they are being "bitches" to Fizzarolli and competing against him in a manner that pushes him further and further into a breakdown. The fact that Fizz's relationship with Mammon and self esteem issues are not their fault is shown as irrelevant to both the audience and their creators.

This isn't made better by their song writers' commentary on twitter on how the glam sisters are perverting the true nature of clowning and that their song shows how they are simply wanting to get Mammon's attention by feeding into the financial and sexual exploitation (even saying that they want this to happen). This commentary solidifies the idea that they are not someone we should root for especially since they are allying themselves with Mammon, a horrific, abusive asshole.

While I expect this level of dismissal and honestly misogynistic writing from Helluva boss, I can't help but be extremely agitated by it and the reason why was made clear recently: the narrative acts as if the Glam sisters are doing this for out of selfish desire alone, as if they are terrorizing Fizz for no good reason. But that's simply not true, and even Vivzie's canon supports me here.

The Glam sisters are hellborn demons, only one rank higher than the imps. This means that while they may be treated better, they still are not treated as full citizens like sinners are, and in a dog eat dog world like Hell, kindness is not something they can afford.

Getting this position with Mammon is a life changing deal, something Fizz is proof of. Yes, it is as exploitative as it is lucrative for the individual, but this is Hell (as Vivzie likes to claim) and opportunities like this are something many would die and kill for.

So at the end of the day, I cannot help but be confused why the narrative punishes and looks down on Glitz and Glam for taking some crumb of control back from the system and accepting their objectification with open arms as long as they are rightly compensated for it. Why does even their (albeit catchy) song look down on them for doing whatever it takes to survive in Hell? After all, they would be exploited anyway, right? It's what Hell lives on.

In a class system like Vivzie claims to have, the glam sisters are a prime example of the kind of oppressed vs oppressed the system creates, but instead of trying to understand them or even see them as morally complex, they are simply the slutty female antagonists who are corrupting the sanctity of hell clowns simply because they don't clown for the sake of clowning. Whatever complexity they could have, even if it is beneficial to the entirety of the show, is worthless compared to their narrative propping for Vivzie's favored characters. But it doesn't surprise me. After all, what else is a women is Helluva Boss good for if not to support the main male cast.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss glitz and glam #If there are no Glitz and Glam defenders left then I am dead #please ask me about my glitz and glam things #i will even write an x reader #I will write so many things just ask please #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critical #fizzarolli

[rustedhearts]

severed lamb: part iii: the sinners (pastor!steve x fem!reader)

summary: you visit the church on a hot summer night to thank pastor steve for his recent gift. you should've known: only the sinners come out at night.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♰ severed lamb masterlist ♰ ♰ main masterlist ♰

tags: religious trauma/imagery, age gap (steve is 35, reader is 19), manipulation, abuse of power, really just insane sexual tension and steve being icky.

♰ Wyndgate, Georgia July 1981 ♰

You hid the shoes from Mama.

Stuffed beneath old boxes in your closet, buried beneath the mess of your youth left over—the pale pink silk came out only when you were alone in the dark. You crept across the prickly carpet with bare knees, the chitter of grasshoppers in the field, and cicadas in the trees filling the lull of night. Your bedroom bathed in inky darkness, beams of moonlight beaconing across the wood panels of your walls—you slithered off your bed, freeing yourself from the stiff and sticky sheets, and inched open your closet.

There, you held them in your hands. You studied their featherlight weight, their soft satin feel, the solid firmness of their toe. You slipped them onto your feet, warm from a half sleep, and wrapped the ribbons around your calves.

And then you prayed.

Elbows pressed into the bed, hands clasped together, knelt against the scratchy rug. Eyes pinched shut, cross necklace delicately resting against your chest, pointe shoes barely tapped together behind you.

But as you murmured to God, you thought only of Steve.

His wide, warm hands with the tough working calluses. Those round, earthy eyes with specks of mud, braced with long lashes that tickled his thick brows. The shape of his lips, bowed and broad, a shade of pink between rose and scarlet. How he smelled—God, that smell. Smoked with musk, sweet with heat, a hint of something woodsy. He didn't smell like the other boys here—like Camels and beer and truck exhaust. He smelled like heaven.

You prayed for God to absolve you of this sin. Because you knew, despite years of your mother's coaxing to find yourself "a hard-working fella with firm hands," that God would punish you for your mindful wanderings. Lust was a sin, after all.

When you fell asleep, God punished you with dreams of Steve. Dreams that had you writhing and squirming beneath the sheets, mewling into the feathers of your pillows. When you awoke, a torturous ache pulsed between your legs.

First, you must suffer for your sins.

♰ ♰

But still, you were a good Southern girl—or at least you tried to be. Georgians valued hospitality above all, and you'd be doing your daddy wrong if you didn't thank Pastor Steve properly.

Saturday afternoon, you scaled the cherry tree in your backyard. Mama was at her friend Patty's, drinking Bloody Marys on her porch and gabbing about town murmurings. You had to be quick while she was away. You made quick work of plucking the ripest, juiciest cherries and washing them in the sink. You mixed up all the fixings for the dough, kneading the floured, squishy material until it was firm. It chilled in the fridge while you cleaned the stove.

A few hours later, when the sun went down and Mama was on her way home, the cherry pie was perfectly golden, crispy, and bleeding tart cherry. You wrapped it in a plastic bag from the grocery store and freshened up. You'd be lying if you said Steve didn't linger in the back of your mind as you pulled on the thin cotton of your favorite sundress—pink and strappy. It matched the color of your new shoes, hidden once again in your closet.

You passed your mother on your way down the drive. Kicking up puffs of dirt behind you, cradling the warm pie in your hands. Mama staggered on the way up, flailing wildly to find her bearings in the open air. The sinking sun cast a creamsicle shadow across her dull eyes. A cackle left her when she spotted you, and you scuffled to a stop on your way down.

"Lilah! Lilah, my sweet girl, give your mama a kiss hello."

Her hands were clammy and warm on your cheeks, squishing them together, pulling you close, teetering you from side to side like rocking a baby. You cringed away from her, clutching the warm pie tight to your stomach. You'd never forgive yourself for giving Pastor Steve a squished pie.

"Mama," you huffed, attempting to yank your face from her hands. "Mama, I'm goin' somewhere."

Your mother skittered back, movements loose and liquid like she'd been flipped upside down and shaken free of inhibition. Her smile was crooked, eyes drooped, wrists limp where her hands dangled near her hips.

"Alright," she drawled, "Lord, you don't wanna spend no more time with your mama. Wha-dI ever do t' you?"

Watching her hike up the driveway toward the house was like watching a calf learn how to walk. You didn't have the energy to play mother and nudge her to her feet. You just watched, clinging to your plastic-wrapped pie dish, as she scuffed up dirt clouds and stumbled around. She went head-first into the house, and a loud clatter came through the open windows seconds after the door closed.

Sighing, you turned around and drifted down the drive, praying the dirt wouldn’t ruin your white sneakers—praying Mama wouldn’t snoop and find your shoes.

But most of all: praying Pastor Steve would be glad to see you.

♰ ♰

Wyndgate went dark by the time you reached the church. A few cars lingered in the lot, stragglers wandering from their after-work prayers in the back pews. The drunken sinners and the half-beat housewives staggered and skittered out like roaches. You tried not to be so judgmental (that was God’s job, after all) but Mama raised you a little brown on the nose.

Straightening your spine and pulling back your shoulders, you fixed your cross, tugged at the hem of your dress, and walked your way through the church doors. The floorboards squeaked beneath your shoes on your way down the aisle, cherry pie still ebbing with warmth in your arms. Pastor Steve was in one of the first pews, collecting pamphlets from the floor and wiping dirt from the shiny soak seats. The plastic-wrapped pie crinkled when you shifted your hands around the porcelain dish.

“Pastor Steve—“

“Oh!”

You jumped, shuffling back against the aisle carpet when Pastor Steve whirled around with a shout. He smacked a hand over his heart when he saw you standing there, pink paper in hand. Chest heaving with heavy breaths, the man’s cheeks grew a colorful shade close to the pamphlet he clutched, and a sheepish smile breezed over his face.

“Delilah,” he sighed, clutching the pew with his other hand. “It’s just you.”

You gnawed on your lip, toes clicking together on the carpet. “S-sorry for scarin’ you, Pastor.”

Steve waved his hand, straightening to a steady posture. He looked at the pamphlet, now crumpled, and placed it as neatly as possible in the pew shelf, tucked between the bible. It looked like an ad for choir singers.

“Not at all, Delilah. You here for a chat?”

Steve shuffled out of the pew, coming to stand with his hands on his hips before you. He smelled real good today. Like strong, sweet coffee, something nutty and buttery beneath it. His hair was freshly-washed: soft and bouncy, hints of caramel brown in the front coil. You wanted to run your fingers through it. The thought made you ache between the thighs. Please Lord, take these sinful thoughts from me.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you. I made a pie,” you admitted quietly, gazing down at the dessert collecting condensation on the plastic wrap.

Steve followed your eyes, delighted at the sight of it. He thought of those cherries in the field that day behind your house, and how graceful you looked scaling the tree. Like some sort of woodland nymph, foraging for berries.

“Thank me for what, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Your chest blossomed and boomed, tendrils of muscles aching at the sound of that word slipping from his mouth. Sweetheart. Were you his sweetheart? Your cheeks felt sore with heat at the thought. Something deep in your gut pulsed and cried.

“We-well fo-for…for the shoes, Pastor Steve,” you whispered, glancing at the other pews. Few sinners remained on their knees.

Steve, still looming above you with his hands on his hips, followed your drifting eyes. The corner of his lip held the whisper of a smile. “Now I’m certain I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Delilah.”

A bubble of embarrassment boiled hot behind your navel. You shifted your weight, fidgeting with the loose end of the plastic wrap on the underside of the dish. You dropped your eyes to the floor, the tops of Steve's brown loafers particularly interesting. They were perfectly clean, not even a trace of mud. With the dry heat Georgia's been suffering through, you weren't surprised.

Had you got it wrong? Was it not Steve that gave you the new pointe shoes? Who else could it have been?

"But I think," Pastor Steve spoke up, voice a little high with an amused coo. "I might know who's responsible."

You lifted your gaze just a smidge. "You do?"

"Mhm. C'mon."

Steve headed toward the front of the church, the old door to the office upstairs coming into view. You glanced around once more, finding even fewer people remaining. The hunched woman in the back of the room had her eyes shut so tight, you were certain she was worlds away. No one would notice. Your eyes shifted toward the wooden cross behind the podium at the head of the room—the perfectly-carved depiction of Jesus dripping tears and bleeding from his palms and feet. The thorns striking his head.

He would notice.

"Delilah," Steve called softly, standing in the doorway now. He held it open for you, head tipping when you looked his way. "You comin'?"

Steve had a way of looking at you that made you feel like the prettiest girl in the room, even if you weren't. He had a way of looking at you that made you feel like something rare and precious, something worth taking the time to admire. He had a way of pulling you in.

On your way to Steve, you looked toward the cross again.

You could've sworn the tears of Jesus were gone.

♰ ♰

In the attic, the heat was stifling. Even with the absence of the sun, the heat felt palpable. So stiff and thick you could've chewed on it like rubber. You took a deep breath in as Steve closed the door behind you and turned on a lamp. The white wooden walls collected a faint amber glow, collecting in a halo on the arched ceiling. Steve's shoes thunked across the carpet. You could almost smell the dust.

Turning around toward Steve, you prepared yourself for an earnest apology. "Pastor Steve, I just wanted to—"

"You're welcome."

You paused, lips parted in silence. Steve slipped his hands into the front pocket of his trousers—tight at the hips, loose at the calves, the color of midnight. He wasn't wearing a robe, and his shoulders seemed even more broad stretched beneath that crisp white button down.

"Beg your pardon?"

His shoes thunked again as he passed you, steps slow and meticulous. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. You held your breath in your throat when his elbow brushed your arm. You felt him stop, the size of his heat pushing against your back. You turned to peer at him in the low light. He pulled the rickety wooden chair of his desk back, but didn't sit.

"I said: you're welcome, Delilah."

You closed your mouth, blinking your brows into a frown. "B-but you said—"

Steve eased down into his seat with a sigh, sliding his palms against the arms of the chair until they rested forearms-down. Feet flat on the floor, spine straight against the back, thighs a few inches apart—he looked like a King in his throne.

"I know what I said," he murmured, voice no longer tipping toward a melodic coo. "I just thought we'd speak alone. You know, in private."

You swallowed. "O-okay."

Steve tipped his head, turning his face aside until you could only see his profile. That handsome, princely profile. The heat of the attic gathered on the back of your neck beneath your hair. A pool of sweat collected at the small of your spine beneath your dress. The fabric thinned with the wetness. Steve's shirt grew darker beneath his arms, a glossy shine gleaming over his forehead. Something about that made your mouth water. You imagined what the smell of his heat might be like up close. You wondered how the skin of his throat tasted, coated in sweat.

The silence that festered felt as tangible as the heat. The floor groaned when you teetered.

"Did you like them?"

You nodded meekly, suddenly too small for words. Steve hummed, letting his head loll back in place.

"Hmm. Good."

You swallowed again, throat growing dry in the absence of words and water. The pie in your hands felt a little cooler. You extended it, gripping tight.

"Well, I...I made this for you. S-Since you liked them cherries s' much."

Steve tipped his chin up, but he didn't look at the pie. He kept his eyes steady on you—you: with your meek little eyes that couldn't stand to look at him too long, and your pretty dress with the fabric so thin he could see the shape of your thighs touching under the hem. You: with your shaking fingers and your wobbly knees, and the socks with the frilly lace on the ruffled hems like a girl at communion. You: with your angelic cheeks and your goddess face, and the cross between your breasts that glinted at Steve.

He wanted to devour you. He couldn't wait any longer for a taste of that sinless skin.

"Bring it to me."

You kicked your eyes up, heat lapping at your spine at the sound of his voice commanding you. Tone rigid with demand, crawling up from deep in his throat and appearing with a rasp. But still, no matter what: so gentle. Just a little bit of a salt on the top of a chocolate chip cookie.

You took small steps forward, and Steve was patient. You stopped when your toes touched his, a small stuttered breath echoing from your nose. The pie dish teetered on its way to him. His palms ghosted yours when he collected it. The weight of his touch featherlight, the warmth of his skin scorching. It left the surface of your hands feeling like you'd touched the sun.

Steve placed the dish on the desk. The porcelain clatter sliced through the quiet. With two fingers, he gently peeled the plastic wrap apart. The sweet, tart smell of cherry bled through the heat of the attic. Steve brushed his finger over the firmness of the crust, humming again. You swept your hands behind your back, fingers woven together. You itched for his satisfaction and his unadulterated praise.

His fingers broke the surface, submerging into the gooey warmth inside. He curled them, and they reappeared coated in sticky scarlet jam. A whole cherry chunk sat between his thumb and index, golden crust gathered in his palm. Steve brought it to his mouth, lips closing around the bite ripped from the center of the pie. It was animalistic, it was crude: the way he sucked it down and licked his fingers clean. Each one disappeared into his mouth and returned with a pop, slurped clean of red.

You inhaled, breath catching in stuttered successions. Steve groaned, deep and guttural. The muscles in your stomach squeezed. The apex of your thighs burned hot.

"Glorious, Delilah," he murmured. When his tongue swept his lip, it appeared bright pink.

"Would you like some?" he asked, easing back into the chair again.

The tops of your ears scorched. "O-Oh, um—"

"Come on," he cooed, teeth scraping his reddened lip. "Indulge, Delilah."

Pastor Steve's words from the other day echoed in your mind. Sometimes we have to indulge. Keeps us good.

Weren't you good?

You followed Steve's hand as it approached the pie again. His fingers sank in with an obscene squelch. You squeezed again when he gathered another bite in his hand, this one destined for your mouth.

Steve chuckled, a bounding sound. "I can't reach your mouth up there, sweetheart."

Your attention snapped to his face, the smile gracing it wolfish and all teeth. Your knees gave in easier than you would've liked. You melted like butter in the lamplight, sinking to half your height against the carpet. It scratched your knees and itched your calves, but Steve's thighs pressing against your arms swept any other thought away.

The light was different down here. Darker, shadowed. Pastor Steve's eyes had never seemed so amazed.

His fingers approached and your jaw unhinged, giving way to a wet, writhing tongue and two rows of pearly teeth. Steve's other hand touched your chin, bracing you steady with gentle fingers. Your knees clenched, suctioning together with sticky skin.

You caught his eye as the first biting tang of cherry touched your tongue. They appeared wide and swampy, swimming with colors muddled by the darkness at this height. The air he exhaled smelled fruity. The tartness to the pie clung to your cheeks and made them ache. You closed your lips around his fingers, and your eyes fluttered shut.

The taste of him. Oh God, the taste of him. You licked and lapped, swirling your tongue around to clear away all the pie in search of just him. You gobbled it down, eager for just skin. His hand tightened around your chin, lengthening to cup your jaw. A sting gathered in your jaw from the weight of his hand on your tongue. But you were lost in him.

Steve sat back, watching you inch forward. You followed his lead without thought. You latched around his fingers and sucked them all clean, careful even to clear the crevices. He came away spit soaked and a little sore. He rested his wet hand on his knee, bits of jam and crust gathered on the pleats of his trousers. He gave your jaw a little squeeze.

You heaved for air, chest pumping in time to each desperate breath. The glimmer of your cross met the lamplight with every intake. Steve brought that wet hand, coated in your spit, to the channel of your throat. The pads of his fingers left a trail of cool dampness down the length of your neck and across your collarbones. Breezing down, outlining the shape of you.

Until he found the cross between your breasts. He traced the shape of that next, humming as he made the sign with his index. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, Steve placed his mouth just above your nose until you looked at him through your lashes.

"I hope you know," he whispered, words warm and damp. "I prayed for this."

When his mouth met yours, all you tasted was cherry. Tart, muddled, violent cherry. It burst in your mouth, tongue ejecting to deliver the taste. His teeth scraped, nipped; his hands took your face. The chair strained with a creak beneath his weight. The floor groaned under your knees. Your palm thumped to the floor for balance. A pathetic mewl echoed into the cavern of his mouth: full of nothing but you and pie.

Steve pulled away with a smack, lips detaching and expelling air. His thumbs rubbed your cheeks, tenderizing them with his callused skin. He huffed once, wiped at the sweat on his brow with his sleeve, and sat back again. He swept a finger across your lip lazily, heavy and soaked in spit.

“Oh yeah,” Steve sighed. “I prayed real hard for that.”

#rolly! #steve harrington #pastor!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #joe keery #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve the hair harrington #stranger things fanfiction #dark steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au

[kaisntbreathing]

I'm Defford gonna unintentionally spam you tonight so sorry about that babe, but what about velvette x model!female!reader? The whole concept holds a special place in my heart because it just reeks of soul mates yk? And basically it's just about a show, and how reader is always the 'main event'? (can you tell I don't watch fashion shows?) of the show and vel is always the one to get her all dolled up and it's basically just tooth rotting fluff? TYYY

Okay so I kind of modeled the reader after my OC because I love the concept of my OC and how like very feminine they are and they actually work for Velvette.

ALSO LILY MY BELOVED DARLING <3

Sugar and spice

VELVETTE X FEM!MODEL!READER

PLOT SUMMARY:

You work for Velvette as a model of hers, and you immediately and she gets to doll you up for one of your big shows!

WARNINGS:

Profanity, Valentino

A/N:

I LOVE VEL SO SO SO MUCH SHE IS SO UNDERRATED AND PERSONALLY I THINK SHE IS THE BEST OUT OF THE THREE VEE'S, VOX IS A CLOSE SECOND THO.

You were a model and a good one at that, you worked under the Vee's specifically under Velvette your close friend and boss, you were her favorite model since you looked good in almost anything she put on you, no matter the style, makeup or colour you always looked good, your body was considered 'tall' for a sinner but you had a very curvy waist and full hips, your shoulders were feminine but strong.

As you walked through the familiar building with the clicks of your heels against the floor you looked around as you hummed, today was a very big day, you had to go out and model infront of hundreds of sinners as you ran your hand through your fluffy hair.

You opened the door to your dressing room as you slipped in clicking the lights on as you say down by your vanity as you collected your makeup as you sighed.

"Doll? Whatcha think you're doing?"

You heard Velvette's smooth voice from behind you as she had her hand on her hip that was sticking out as she smirked.

"Vel, help me with my makeup?"

"Yeah my star, let me see"

With that Velvette grabbed your concealer and makeup sponge as she applied it to your face evenly as she moved onto your blush, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, and finally your eyeshadow.

As she stepped back satisfied with her work as you looked, drop dead gorgeous as you smiled as she tossed a outfit at you.

"Get dressed and knock them all dead Darlin, I'm rooting for ya."

You loved her, as a friend, a coworker, and as your girlfriend, you and Velvette's relationship was far from secret she made sure all of Hell knew you're hers, and she'd ripped anyone who tried to hurt you apart.

As you got dressed you looked yourself over in your body mirror as you swayed your hips lightly as you looked yourself over.

As you exited your room you walked towards the backstage as you shakily exhaled as your hands shook, big crowds were never your thing.

You felt someone touch your shoulder as you looked behind you and saw Velvette who looked at you with a smile.

"You look amazing, you're going to kill this. I'm rooting for my beautiful girl."

That filled you with all the motivation and courage you needed as you lightly peaked her lips as you walked out onto stage as you felt.

Complete

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #xreader #kai #requests open #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #fem reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #velvette x you #velvette x fem reader

[staerplatinum]

Some of my favorite doodles from my headcanon/redesign concept sheets used as an excuse to list my headcanons about the main six (for an AU that I'm writing)! More under the cut!

Charlie Morningstar:

She's way more hot-headed than in canon, albeit still keeping her cheerful and gentle persona.

She loves food, and she's always hungry. I always loved the trope of protagonists (both male and female, like look at Goku himself, Usagi Tsukino or Minako Aino) and I think it could fit Charlie perfectly!

She loves planning (and this is already canon) and she has a lot of stationary gadgets. "Sure Alastor, you can borrow any pen! ... Not that one! :D" And takes good care of them.

Her birthday is February 29th. I thought that it wouldn't be strange if her birthday ended up being that day if she follows a demoniac calendar...

Vaggie:

It's canon that she likes everything to be clean and organized. I think she would help Niffty with the rooms and everything! They bond!

She and Angel Dust absolutely have BFFs vibes. Before Hazbin Hotel I remember they were meant to be a couple, but with the new canon they're still adorable as best friends and I love the dynamic more. They get into fights but it's never anything serious, they look like a big brother and a little sis, even though sometimes she definitely acts as a big sis to him. Angel sees Molly through her :(

As we know she doesn't really believe in herself, but she actually makes a very good leader!

In my fanfic, contrarily to the series, she was really fighting with burning hate towards the angels that cast her out. She holds a deep grudge and it's hard for her to come out of it. (I want Out for Love to be useful, it's my favorite song ç_ç)

Her name as a human was Agata Flores, she was born the 28th of June in 1993. If we still count 2014 as her death and if she was once a winner that then became sinner... my headcanon is that she died of a hate crime in March 25th 2014, aged 21.

Angel Dust:

He's not in drag 24/7. He really is feminine, but sometimes likes to try masculine outfits too. (which make Husk wonder "why am I staring??")

He's secretly a nerd. Or not so secretly. He owns video games, and especially likes RPGs and life sims.

He overanalyses everything. Well, almost everything but still. He actually likes reading, and this led him to analyse anything that comes into his eye. (Oh, I can't wait to write one of those scenes because I already had fun outlining it LMAOO)

He's probably Charlie's food buddy. Give them some food and they'll be happy (Valentino doesn't like this but get screwed Val, give him food too)

His name as a human was Anthony (canon) Cavallaro and had Neapolitan heritage. He's born in April 1st (and this is canon) 1912, he died of overdose (canon) in October 11th 1947, aged 35.

Alastor:

I loved his pilot persona more than the series', and most of the things are confirmed canon... but I do have some headcanons for him, too! (also yeah I don't think that will be my last radioapple drawing or doodle lol)

We know he either doesn't sleep or sleeps with his eyes open. Well, I imagine him that in the few rare occasions he actually sleeps, his radio works as a mental surveillance "camera". Also, he's a light sleeper and would definitely go "Do you fellows mind? I'm trying to sleep." like the old man he is.

I would like to explore Alastor's feelings for Charlie more, and how he sees her as a daughter. While we may not know if he was telling the truth, I think they both seeked each other as a fatherly and daughter figures in a way. Many in the fandom headcanon Alastor's father to have been shitty to him. If he truly sees Charlie as a daughter, it could be because he would like to be a better father than the one he had, and since he never had children, he grew affectionate to Charlie as such.

He knows how to handle alcohol well, but I like to think that when he's really drunk he doesn't even know what he's doing. Oh, you saw him playing with Angel's Nintendo Switch? He even brought it into his room to continue playing Animal Crossing by himself? He was totally wasted.

His name as a human was Alastor (which is apparently canon, but I wonder if it'll be retconned or not?) Boudreaux-Alexander. Boudreaux was his father's last name, Alexander was his mother's. He didn't like his mother taking her husband's last name and wanted to keep his mother's. He was born in March 7th 1901, and died in August 4th 1933, aged 32, after being shot by a hunter that confused him with a deer and was mauled by dogs afterwards. (Yikes, I'm so sorry)

Niffty:

She definitely has written lots of fanfics about her fellow hotel friends. Especially men. Yet, she loves Charlie and Vaggie too, so they're there as well.

We know both Niffty and Husk have deals with Alastor. She loves them both, I love to headcanon that when she feels lonely and can't sleep well or had nightmares, she either goes to Husk's or Alastor's room to sleep with them. They welcome her warmly ç_ç

Alastor and Husk most definitely know Niffty's story, which is why they care about her so much. She's childish for her age, but it could be tied to a past that only the two of them know very well.

Niffty knew Vox when they were alive. Now I know it could be a weird headcanon since Niffty is Japanese and Vox is American, but if Niffty's work brought her around the world it wouldn't be weird if they crossed paths. When Vox died Niffty was 19, she either saw him die in front of her eyes or something else happened.

As I mentioned in my concept sheets, she used to wear glasses when she was alive so she can't see really well without them after she died. Sometimes she borrows Alastor's monocle, and if we apply the headcanon that he's colorblind, without his monocle not only he can't see anything but can't even see colors LOL

Her name when she was alive was Sachiko Tanaka, born February 27th 1934. She died September 1st 1956, aged 22, there are popular headcanons about the way she died and yikes, if it's true she didn't have a good death either. Not at all.

Husk:

Maybe I'm overanalysing but what if the reason why he grew affectionate to Niffty was because he once had children? Or just one? Either he had a child and was with him but felt like he wasn't a good father or his ex-wife left him because of his gambling addiction and this made him feel guilty, not able to see his child ever again. (I feel bad just thinking about this but ç_ç)

Despite the fact he hates being on a leash and none other than Alastor's, he actually cares about him. If the two were friends when they were alive (including Mimzy), this could explain why he's still around Alastor even if reluctantly. (Sure he says he's forced, but in the pilot Alastor summoned him, so it's safe to assume either Alastor-Husk-Niffty were roommates before coming to the hotel and did their business without telling Alastor, or simply we need more explanations of Alastor's deals)

His name when he was alive was Ivan Goncharov, born January 29th 1900, and died in December 23rd 1967, aged 67. As I mentioned in my concept sheets, he was friends with Alastor and Mimzy when they were alive and he was the last one of them to die. He would often visit his friends' graves when he was still alive :(

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin headcanons #charlie morningstar #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #niffty #niffty hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel niffty #husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #chaggie #huskerdust #radioapple #art #artist on tumblr

[tastefulsimp]

A Quiet Evening

I’ve never written anything like this before, but I needed some writing practice, and I cannot get Hazbin Hotel out of my head. I wanted to explore his complexity and write something that aligned with his character, our oh-so-scary-and-charming peepaw.

I’ve heard that some ace folks have an interest in reading romance and spice as a way to access certain emotions. I relish the idea of Alastor enjoying a romance novel from time to time. (and yes, the quotes from the book are really in the book) female reader | not spicy | tension

— Prologue

In life, Alastor always loved a good book. John Steinbeck, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and H.P. Lovecraft were among his favorites. But, the radio demon had a soft spot for a the author Elinor Glyn. While he was out running some errands this morning, he spotted a copy of "It" and Other Stories in the window of a book shop.

It had been so long since he enjoyed a good book. Most of the hotel crew would be out with the provocative one and his explosive friend tonight anyway. A quiet evening accompanied by a good book did sound quite lovely.

Once he finished his hotelier duties, he asked poured himself a glass of Sazerac, tuned the lobby radio to some jazz and swing at a low volume, and settled into the sofa.

He forgot how much he enjoyed a good read. In fact, the film adaptation of “It” was one of the only films he had seen while he was alive. Mimzy dragged him along to a showing one evening. In truth, he never cared much for the medium, but the story was entertaining at least. And, anything is enjoyable in good company.

“I should lend this to Rosie” he thought as he crept through pages of the novel, “she would enjoy this character’s— what does she call it? Ah, yes.. moxie.”

— Part 1

Emerging from your bedroom, you’re confused to find silence in the hotel. Your lively group of sinners must have left for the club already. Feeling a bit relieved, that you’re no longer required to socialize, you make for your bedroom once again. The faintest sound of music hits your ears just before you cross the doorway.

When you became a guest after the last Extermination Day, no one knew what to expect. Charlie was elated to have two fresh faces join the crew. But, after your counterpart bailed in the first week, you were the only remaining new guest.

As you approach the end of the hallway, the sound of swing music is grows louder with each step. Quietly descending the stairs into the lobby, you’re surprised to see Alastor relaxing on the sofa, reading a book in the dimly lit room.

You couldn’t help but be curious about Alastor. You knew the stories of the Radio Demon, and you saw the broadcast of their fight with Heaven. He was scary, sinister, and powerful… yet he had been nothing but kind to you so far.

Quietly approaching the lobby sofa, Alastor doesn’t seem to notice your presence. You peek over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of what title has him so invested. Your eyes catch on the sentence: “John was aware of the sex magnetism in her. He instantly wanted to kiss those cherry lips…”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized, Alastor was reading romance..? There’s no way. Peeking again, you scan the page, your eyes landing on the words “analyzed, dissected, and stripped her.”

Yep. That’s a romance novel.

Alastor cleared his throat and stretched his collar just a bit. You watched, bewildered as he turned his head toward you with a smirk. “You’re not a very good spy, you know” Alastor quipped.

“I’m sorry,” You replied sheepishly. “I didn’t realize anyone else was still here.”

“I thought the very same.” He said, eyes returning to his book. You crossed over to the arm chair across from him and took a seat.

“Not up for a night on the town, my dear?” he said casually, glancing at you over the top of his book. He had traded his monocle for a pair of reading glasses, he was wearing a tied red silk house coat over his white button up, and some loafers. He looked so relaxed, you thought.

“Not really my thing, honestly.” you say, your eyes never meeting his, “It’s loud, it smells, and I can get a better buzz here anyway.” He lowers the book slightly to reveal his signature smile.

“Hm. I often wonder how you ended up down here, Miss ___,” Alastor jokes. You laugh, “My ticket to hell may have been coated in blood, but those petty sins have never been my style,” you reply smirking at him.

“What are you reading?” you ask, crossing one leg over the other in your seat. His eyes trace over your outstretched leg, before meeting yours once again. “Elinor Glyn. A novel called, It” he replied in a dry tone.

“What’s it about?” you asked, thumbing through the redemption lesson plans that were strewn across the end table next to you. His eye twitches. He let out a big sigh, “I was rather enjoying my solitude.” He shifts in his seat a bit.

“Is that all you were enjoying, Alastor?” you teased.

“I suppose I was enjoying the music as well, my dear” he replied, meeting your eyes over the top of his book once again.

“Oh, yes it’s lovely. But, I figured you were enjoying her cherry lips, or maybe her… sex magnetism.” You smirked at him. Annoyance washed over Alastor’s face as his eyes shifted back to his book, and closing it sharply.

“Ah, so you were spying on me.” He places the book down on the couch and rises to his feet. He grabs his glass of Sazerac and slowly starting toward you, static rising in his voice. “Perhaps it’s time you learn your place, Miss ___”

Panic floods your body as the Radio Demon approaches you, static in the air growing stronger. His pupils turn into black dials and he emits a glowing green aura. He could kill you right now.

You uncross your legs, and shift nervously, backing up slightly into your chair as he steps closer, and closer. Despite your fear, a depraved thought crossed your mind. This was kind of hot. NO! It’s not the time for that.

His faces is inches away from yours now, you can feel his breathing, and he can certainly feel your hitched breaths, but you never break the gaze you both hold. Within a millisecond its over. His eyes return to their normal round saucers, and the static dissipates from the air. “Do you understand, my dear?” he asks in a low voice.

His eyes stay locked on yours as he speaks, making your body tense. Are you seriously turned on by this situation?? This close to him, you realize he’s wearing a woody, citrus scent, and it smells incredible. You feel your face begin to grow hot, as a blush reaches your cheeks.

“Yes, sir.” you respond feigning innocence, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Good girl.” he pats your head then turns around to grab his book. “That was a lovely chat, Miss ____.” he says turning slightly to smirk at you, “sleep well.”

Another depraved thought crossed your mind, and this time you headed straight for the bar.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel

[sidsinning]

You should do a simp(even if platonic) post for your fave female hazbin character for varieties sake

I think my fav is Charlie

Although I feel like she's been done a lil bit dirty despite appearing in every ep? Like she mostly gets involved in other people's stories rather than her own which is why I appreciate episodes like Dad Beat Dad. Her and a lot of different characters are being explored all at once in the most organic way the show is capable of in its current state (biased from me bc the characters focused here are all my favs lol)

She's my favorite but I do wish we would get deeper focus on her

Not that she has no focus and is an empty character ofc

But yeah

I like how she is a go getter and very motivated in her goals despite how impossible they are, despite the lack of support she gets from even the people on her own side

Ofc how her personality is vastly different from the rest of the cast who are all less naive and more cynical than her, almost like she should've been born in heaven which catches people off guard in hell (most definitely gets this from Lucifer)

(The fact that Lilith thrived in Hell kinda tells you things but that's for another post for another day lol)

Sir Pentious' redemption is absolutely thanks to her direct influence- and bc of that the mans ended up the first sinner in heaven which is a HUGE W for her, bc it's smtg no one, not even the king of hell has been able to achieve

Angel Dust has definitely been more influenced by Husk from what we've seen in the show, but its bc Charlie gave Angel Dust a safe space in the first place for him to flourish despite his raunchy behavior

So even if she fails when trying to directly confront an issue with a flawed perspective, she still ends up positively affecting others which is cool

Also appreciate that her efforts to make people listen to her message are finally recognized by the end of the season with the cannibals

She's powerful and full of potential, but definitely not at the point where she can handle certain things on her own without help or mentorship which is cool and smtg we can still explore

Yes

She's best girl so far

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #ask

[ladyduellist]

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Chapter Summary:

Astarion makes an offer to Tav, later succumbing to his hunger.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Story Summary:

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Chapter 3: Thirst

Ao3

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Main Page & Chapter List

Word Count: 7k

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

CW: Sexually Explicit Language, Blood, Act 1 Spoilers

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

He loved her right away. Her smile. Her creativity. Her heart most of all. He told her he used to have dreams about a woman before he met her, one fitting her description. It seemed like fate when they finally met. They both shared the same affinity for music. When he wrote her a love letters in the first few months of their courtship, he knew she would be his. She thought someone finally understood her. 10 years of a life together. 10 years of the dual natured beast that would wound. 10 years of love and honey of the cycle in between. Until she was numb.

— Evenlit (mother of Tavelle), diary entry 523

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

“Ah, my favorite traveling companion, do you have a moment to, well—chat?” Astarion’s voice was less theatrical—more thoughtful—than usual as he saddled up next to the bard.

The crew had been traveling on foot again since early morning, deciding not to veer from their previous path. Searching for any signs that could point them in the direction of a healer that could excavate the worms inside their brains.

Tav nodded to Gale and Shadowheart, gesturing them to travel ahead, sensing Astarion needed privacy. The wizard shot her a prudent look under the guise of respecting her quarry to speak with the pallored elf alone.

Astarion didn’t strike her as the kind of man that would revisit a situation once he was rejected. No, he didn’t even seem wounded. Presumably, he would continue to carry on—his pretty lips sheen with dialogue prepped for the next casualty.

Sure, it seemed suspicious enough, but if he had already moved on from their ordeal in the temple, there was no reason she should continue to dwell on their—misunderstanding.

Still, there was an awkwardness Tav buried behind her faint smile and neutral eyes. The want to restrict the memory of a foretoken graze of his willowy hands.

As Tav finally regarded him—her thoughts still flickering back to their time in the ruins—she met the garnet of his vision with caution, a gasp stuck in her throat as he stepped closer. The sun’s beams creating a halo around the feathery wisps of his curls, presented Tav with the imagery of an angel that had flown down from the heavens to gather her into his arms. Back arched, pecking along the top of her bosom: a holy sacrament that could convert her to him.

Thy will be done.

Her mouth felt dry. “Of course.”

Their boots slowed, equally matching each other’s footsteps in the dusty loam of the earth. Astarion stared ahead of them, his vision fixed on their two companions, likely watching their distance.

“To be quite frank, I read our little predicament wrong yesterday and took advantage of it without due respect to you. I’m sure that seems a bit odd coming from the likes of someone like me—considerate as I am—but I think we got off on the wrong foot." He absentmindedly scratched his neck. "I suppose even a charlatan like myself can get it wrong sometimes."

Tav was skeptical of his accountability that seemed less than straight-laced. But, it did dawn on her that she may have misjudged a few circuits that intersect within his heart. That, yes, while he seemed to live submerged in coquettish self interest, in this moment of letting her walls down just enough to scramble through some of the thickets of his inner mechanisms, he may be showing an ounce of authenticity.

Yet, there is an element to the contrition of her heart that she dare not speak. To utter it with a covetous breath would mean to give it truth. That while she seduced her thoughts of being filled in ways she had never known within the margins of a romantic relationship, that she was terrified to completely expose herself to another.

Astarion was indubitably beautiful, charming, and humorous. But, beyond those surfaces, she sought connection—maybe just enough to avoid more conflicting emotions to sow. In the minutes, hours, weeks she could stand, she knew love could be cutthroat and messy. Its afflictions: hail and brushfire, a constant bickering. She was unsure if she could ever love or be physically intimate in the way of it crossing the universe again.

The risk was so very grave. No matter the man present in her life, her interests must remain just that—interests.

For she, too, spits the saliva of the devil’s lies to guard the silly thing that is her heart.

“It isn’t as if I told you to halt as soon as it happened. I think we were both caught up in the moment and lust can be a powerful drug.” Her voice was so sickeningly gentle and candid with him.

“Is that a confession?” The man teased.

The songstress jokingly rolled her eyes. “Pfft. Hardly! Astarion, I am 91 years old. You are scarcely the first to try and seduce me.” She looked at him earnestly. “I’m sorry I let it go as far as it did; I have no desire to lead you on. I am attracted to you—gods, how couldn’t I be—but I...”

A silent awareness of their near intimate rush within the dank crypt walls hung thick in the air. Of the primal urge that can arise during traumatic events. The need to rake nails down another’s back. Foreheads slick with sweat. The smell of salt and sex in the air. To live inside one another’s flesh.

The impact of surviving: release.

He crossed his arms. “Enlighten me then. What is it that you’re seeking?”

Tav stayed silent. The truth crippled her heart. She didn’t even know if she believed such a concept existed anymore, belonging solely to romantic folklores of lovers supping droughts of poisons—to meet one another again in the afterlife.

Astarion searched her face. “Something you think I’m incapable of?”

“I think it is something you’re not accustomed to,” she answered flatly.

“Then, it wouldn’t hurt to aid me with a hint. At the very least to prove you correct.”

Silver tongues belonged to silver serpents. And, this may be a game for him. But, self preservation could be the royal quandary of boundaries and she had already revealed enough. The vulnerability was there, ripe for the winnow of another’s cup, but she couldn’t bear it. Not yet.

A quietness slipped between her lips, the storm of her optics solemn. “…we do not know each other adequately yet.”

Astarion held his chin between his fingers, deep in thought. He reminded her of a scholar that endlessly agonized over scripts with his rumpled skin set amidst two silvery brows.

“Hmm. Tav, you’re really overthinking this. What I am offering—and desire, mind you—is a distraction. A short term fling to take us away from all this madness we’ve found ourselves in. But, if you prefer a less invasive course: what about friendship?”

“Annnnd, if you find yourself wanting that distraction, the offer will always be available,” he added amusedly with a quick wink.

The bard couldn’t help but laugh loudly. “You’ll be the first gentleman I’ll call upon in that case then! But, as for a friendship with you…I’d like that. A lot, in fact.”

Astarion ceased his steps, placing a hand on his hip, while the other crossed over his chest. He narrowed his eyes, mouth perfectly molded into that of the trickster.

“This whole conversation has been enlightening. In the spirit of ‘friendship’ and since we have gotten those unpleasant decrees out of the way, I believe this requires a bit of a reintroduction. My name is Astarion. I was a magistrate back in Baldur’s Gate. I enjoy a needle and thread, gilded chalices, and whatever other indulgences I can sink my teeth into. And you?”

And there was that darling blush creeping up the tenderness of her neck anew.

With all that hubris, Tav was amazed his head didn’t inflate thrice its size. Still, she played along, not discounting the potential for this being a gateway for better camaraderie.

A huff accompanied a subtle smile. “My name is Tavelle, but Tav is generally preferred by most. I was a traveling bard. I lived in Baldur’s Gate for the past year before the mind flayers came. I enjoy reading, a fine glass of bourbon, and the art of sword-fighting.”

“A bard? My, my. I’m sure the patriars just adored you, darling! To live in the Gate for that amount of time without winding up on the streets with folded hands begging for coin or between the sheets of some foolish braggart that doesn’t deserve your affections, warrants much more credit than I afforded you earlier,” he appraised her wryly.

Tav giggled coyly. She observed the high elf momentarily permitting himself to study the lifting of her own crinkling vision, down to the demure smile she flashed him.

“It seems you’ve misjudged me sir magistrate. A lady never reveals how she’s managed to work the entire city fawning over her! Though, I will say, it surely isn’t because of anything I’ve worked towards. I shudder to think I have any actual real prowess worth speaking about,” Tav bantered back sarcastically.

Bantering was not her typical forte. She had a quirky sense of humor about her, albeit a bit dark at times—she certainly wouldn’t consider herself to be an expert in the art of wit—but Astarion was bringing this side of her to light out of the blue. It was fun. Playful. An escape of sugary and sour amusements reserved for them alone. She couldn’t get enough.

“And where, my dear, has all this surprisingly sharp humor clawed its way out of? You’re typically so quiet of nature. Who knew our songbird had so much to say!” The way his mirth emerged itself when he bared his teeth to her in a dashing simper, caused her heart to skip a beat.

He tilted his head and grinned more broadly, as if there were an inside joke he had immediately recalled. Like he had heard the hiccup of her bloody organ.

“I may be introverted, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy talking to others. Especially if it’s someone as charming as youuuu.” Another melody of a titter, her eyes so exceptionally spirited.

They both laughed.

Stepping closer to him, her fingers twiddled with the thrown plait of dark ash brown over her shoulder. She casted her steely blue gaze downward before raising them to his face, the lower portion of her lip bitten in thought.

“Thank you for speaking with me and trying to understand. Truly.”

Bong! The bell’s toll striked and the hunt began. With teeth real sharp and a charming grin.

Tav noticed his pupils tracked her teeth wedged into the soft plush of her lip as he swallowed gradually. ”Hmm? Yes, of course. Now as much as I’d enjoy teasing you relentlessly for the rest of the day, we should probably get moving.”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

As eventide washed over the land, the party decided on a night of respite before their visit to the Grove. Now aided by the addition of Lae’zel, the githyanki warrior, their dreadful circumstance had become notably strenuous. Two wary tiefling guards from a place called Druid's Grove, had captured her in a cage, frightened of the havoc she may cause. Her claim to have access to an apparatus that could rectify their tadpoles was a chance they could not all agree would be worth investigating, but Tav insisted they listen to the information she volunteered, offering her space within their elusive band.

However, she did not mince words once they were around the comforting light of their nightly fire. The flames cast a glow of saffron and tangelo reflecting onto the group’s complexions, bathing them in balmy heat. The cleric and warrior were standing, their voices irritable. Arms crossed. Round green eyes narrowed on darker buttery skin. Razor teeth gritted—ready to spit.

“My people possess a cure for this infection. We will interrogate this Zorru at the Grove about where he saw my kin. Unless you wish to sacrifice yourself to ghaik?” She was irrefutable in her credence, hellbent on reaching the githyanki crèche she deduced was nearby.

“Tav, she sees your kindness as a weakness. She will exploit it,” Shadowheart warned, pointing a finger at the gith.

Astarion slid past them, finding Tav sitting atop a massive piece of driftwood log by the fire. Her doublet was unbuckled, revealing a thin cream linen shirt underneath, tied lazily near her neckline. Relaxed and humming a whimsical tune, she had been pulling the last of her plait out while she ignored the two women arguing.

She did not greet Astarion, instead, resigning to a serene smile with a faint sprinkling of pink upon her skin as he watched her focus on running her fingers through her tangles. Even when his lissome form sat down beside her, her fingers unknotting a snag, she still held the same expression.

Until out of nowhere, her voice caught him off guard, puncturing through the air between them. “Good evening, magistrate.”

Oh, did he ever bask in hearing the use of his former job title as if he still held a position of power. A fantasy of Tav pecking the coolness of his knuckles in reverence. “You’re not a monster, Astarion,” she’d whisper. The sly minx. He twitched in his pants.

He bent down, his breath brisk against the point of her ear, inhaling the scent of natural oils from her hair. He was automatically taken back to their short affair inside the temple as he watched her skin prickle. Part of a plan failed, but not lost.

“Lae’zel is delightful. In a very ‘look at me twice and I’ll dismember you’ kind of way—of course,” he whispered.

Tav dramatically scoffed. Her hand drifted next to his bicep, placing it reservedly on him. She was climbing, climbing, climbing up, spreading her warmth over the sleeve of his jacket. It was seeping through—she was seeping through. Her lips were a mellow heat and soft hush near his lobe. “Sounds like a challenge, Astarion. You have my support. Don’t let her get away!”

He modestly turned his head at the precise moment she descended from his ear to see her bottom lip swiftly bitten in a carefree beam. The same as she had done during their earlier conversation.

But, if he lifted the frail veil over her face, would he find her lips murmuring in prayer for him? For his cuspids to glide across her soft flesh. Mouth open and wet. On your knees, sweetheart. I will save you.

Then, there was a hunger present. A vivid thought of his teeth, latching onto that same part of her lip. Licking. Sucking. Kneading. His cock half erect. Until he bites into it and…

He cleared his throat, forcing the impure fantasy to subside, begging whatever divine beings that would consent to listen to not let their mind worms connect at that precise moment. If he didn’t gain momentum on the aching thirst he felt, everything would be lost.

Astarion leaned in closer, one of his longer curls unfurling, brushing against the side of her forehead like a feather landing in a dusting of snow. He delivered another punchline within distance of her temple. “You wretch. How could I ever say no?!”

Then, his voice was a purr. A final insert, one that neither the gods nor he can help himself but to taste on his tongue. “Though, quite recently, I’ve found my attention has been fixated on the enjoyment of wordplay with a friend.”

He could feel Tav shift nervously at his side, removing her hand calmly from him, folding it with the other in her lap. She turned her head halfway, peering over towards where Gale had been cooking their evening meals. There was a plume of flush resonating from her neck to her cheeks, contrasting against the ivory tone of her skin that sent a devil’s smirk on his lips.

All was not lost, after all, he thought.

“Gale appears overwhelmed. I should probably offer my help,” she muttered considerably, without acknowledging Astarion further.

Tav stood, placing the length of her wavy locks to hang like a waterfall down her back. She drifted towards the other side of the flames. Astarion watched her stroll towards the wizard, hips swaying like branches in the night’s breeze. Those same hips that were only inches away from him a few moments ago: inviting and wide.

Astarion leisurely rose, walking back to his tent to procure a bottle of a long forgotten red and a dingy goblet. He could overhear Tav and Gale discussing plans to prepare a suitable meal for their entourage with items from the packs they had picked through.

Gale appeared quite accustomed to cooking, skilled in frying meats to that perfect amount of crisp—or at least he had boasted. He passed along an enticing grin with a wiggle of his eyebrows towards Tav when he flipped a piece of sliced sausage midair and it landed right back in its starting position.

Tav beamed, "I see you are a man of many talents. Please never ask me to cook food so acrobatically for you. I promise it will not end well.”

“I fear, after this, I may have unofficially put myself in the position of ‘Camp Cook’ for our group. Food tricks and all. Though, let us resign from asking Lae’zel to help with food prep. I fear she’d insist on using that massive sword of hers on a poor tomato.”

“Not to worry, Gale. We’ll be sure to find you an apron and embroider your new title upon it so that everyone knows what you’re truly here for.” Tav appeared at his side, teasingly patting his arm.

Astarion cocked his brow, casting a sneer towards the two chefs before taking a large sip from an matured cup of wine. He disappeared behind the flap of red linen to change into a set of clothes that were more casual.

Folded neatly on his bedroll was an old ruffled shirt. Beloved and cared for over a long period of time. Multiple tears were visible, but each was stitched up with such precision, one would have thought they were graced with the surgical deftness of a doctor. Removing his intricately detailed black coat, he carefully put the shirt over his torso and rolled the length of his sleeves up to his elbows—a particular piece of flair he added over an age.

This shirt was one of the few things that belonged to him in some fashion. When it was handed over to him as a “gift,” Astarion was aware that he would receive no other unless his behavior was considered favorable. For he would never be glorified for his contributions to his “family.” No, his tears were the sapid dessert that he demanded.

"Ungrateful boy. Your sobs will serve as my music tonight. Now bend over and cast your eyes to the hells for want of a contract with a hellion that will never save you from the flay."

Astarion crossed his arms over his chest, holding himself. A chilled sweat trickled down his forehead. Four walls baked in musk and blood: the kennels. His usual practiced breaths, gasping and erratic. He felt light-headed, needing to escape. His head started to scream louder than a harpy’s screech.

Yet, her mellifluous voice was sneaking into his ears, smoking out the curse that haunted him. Swirling around his body, protecting him, tugging him towards the source.

“Astarion. Astarion? Are you okay?!” Tav called out to him in concern.

He ran his fingers through his curls. Steady. Slow. The fabric walls of his tent come back into view.

Then, the roguish rake scratched its way back up his throat. “Ah, my sweet songbird! To think you left your handsome wizard to come sauntering all the way over here to look for me. You must be looking for refinement after all!”

He opened the flap to his tent dramatically like a ringmaster inviting patrons into a circus.

Only, when he stepped out to face the bard whose voice granted him redemption, her appearance was perturbed.

Tav appeared sickly, like the blood had been drained from her upper body. A visible worry inscribed into the fine lines by her nose. She stood still. Lifted her arm. Then, opened and closed her hand several times as if she wanted to reach out to touch him before deciding to rescind it entirely.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought you were hurt. Your breathing…I thought I heard you in pain.” A tiny bit of breath left her mouth as if she were relieved. “Dinner is ready. I’ll give you time to collect yourself and head back.”

The spawn bowed his head in her direction. “I assure you, I am fine. Run along; I’ll be right behind you.”

And then her smile was suddenly the first day of Spring. “You better or I will drag you over there!”

Precious angelic lark. Do not despair. Your wings will serve as the gateway for those that capture you.

Astarion wondered if he had chosen wrong.

No. He was rarely—if ever—wrong about his targets. Tav just presented more of a challenge. Had he not succumbed to the numbness he enacted to conserve what was left of his mental state long ago, guilt may have plagued the bits of humanity he plummeted away from Cazador.

She did possess a certain loveliness to her. Not in the way of grand belles he’d bedded in the past, but one that’s described in poesy passages of endearing semi-guileless women, whose beauty shines through beyond being skin deep. Anyone would be a damned fool to think otherwise. But, an intangible hole existed inside her beating elvish heart that had not yet fully healed. Only, the path to her is strewn with meteors and fragile stars. An unanticipated detail overlooked, one he did not predict as he tried to lure her in the ruins with the aphrodisiacs' of his actions.

He sighed. Had this been one of his usual haunts on the streets of Baldur’s Gate, with less time to devote to his victim, he could easily capture another with memorized lines and rehearsed “fuck me eyes.” All he knew were the instincts of a man that seduced centuries worth of people, using his body to be the prostitute his master commanded.

Where Tav was involved, simply uttering honeyed speeches or licking an oath of exiled pleasures she had never experienced in a stripe along her slit, would not be enough.

But, what of trust?

Ah. Now trust carried power. However, the caveat to such an assured reliance was the privilege of obtaining it. Trust gleaned through lust was manageable. But, trust through measures of safekeeping another’s hope and beliefs came with greater transactions.

If this songbird meant to be Astarion’s silver lining, then he would make her sing.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Their lifeblood waits for you.

“Astarion, I don’t believe I’ve seen you eat a single morsel since you’ve been with us. You must be hungry? Here, there’s plenty to go around.” Gale brought the skillet over, sliding a portion of the food onto the remaining plates as the high elf approached.

You’re hungry.

He peeked over at the food sardonically. “As scrumptious as I’m sure—whatever all that—probably is, I will have to...decline. I have other sources of food stowed away. Regardless, you have my thanks.”

Starving.

Gathered around the campfire, they finished their meals while listening to Lae’zel speak about her crèche, K’liir, in the Tears of Selûne. Astarion couldn’t be less interested. He had no real family to speak of anymore—not that he remembered them—probably perishing many moons ago as it were. And the only place he called home, was the necrotic palace encased in stone towering over the lower city of Baldur’s Gate: where dreams of a life go to wither.

”Your path is paved in blood. Your body does not belong to you. It was created to tempt. It is food created for anyone that craves it. Fuck your prick into anything that wants it. Your lips to press to whatever rotted or young flesh that desires it. You will never be anything more.”

Astarion refocused, nursing a goblet of wine as he leaned back against the log he had previously sat on with Tav. He caught the jovial expression on her face as she focused on each of them as they spoke—primarily that obtuse magician. The fucking gall of that wizard. I bet he gloated about his ‘mage hand’ all evening.

Blood. You need to feed.

He needed to distract her. To cull her affections and isolate them on this farce of a relationship, ill-conceived by his want to survive.

Her. Your fangs want to be inside her, tearing at her throat. To taste the aurora of her voice as her blood warms you.

“Tav, dearest, why don’t you sing us a song from that arsenal of ballads you keep in that pretty little head of yours?”

The bard perked up, turning towards Astarion, her blue-gray depths wide as a doe. She was one of the moving pieces on the chessboard he satiated himself with.

Take her.

Though his request seemed innocent enough, the slithering leer of his gape seemed to make her feel abashed by the way she regarded him with her stare. This was all part of his cunning gambit of word wrestling they had begun to establish. And she knew what he was doing—of course she had to know. Astarion had the gumption to detect that she was conscious, but still uncertain, if he had only meant to tease her—to see her nonplussed in the moment—or if there laid an alternative motive to the glint of his impish smirk.

Her rosy lips parted slightly, a paltry excuse upon her tongue. “My lute perished in the crash.”

“Come now, it is not your lute that beguiles your audience with its voice. Do not keep us waiting, friend,” he winked, ushering her forward with a flamboyant wave of his hand.

Hunt her.

Tav does not argue. Perhaps to avoid further complications of the night or maybe because she recognized her talents had the ability to bring about a halcyon wave to their troubled comrades.

Though, as the first few notes she gifted to them uncurl like clear bells on silver tinsel, decorating the reticence of the camp, her audience was now hers to command.

Taste her.

Her voice was ethereal, knitting together a story through the eyes of a traveler discovering fealty to happiness itself. She sang as if she were a holy entity within a chapel alone. The poetry of her words, the flames that would light the candles to the gods.

The winds spun around them, carrying her tune in ripples. Confidently, her eyes passed over to Astarion with a radiant warmth; he was motionless. As she reached a fluttering note, the bluish vein of her white satiny neck—a visible interference—caused an unexpected delirium.

Yes. Her blood will be the sweetest.

She had managed to do the impossible and hypnotize him entirely.

He had to have her. Just a taste.“Magistrate, please bite me.”

She’s yours. She’s yours. She’s yours.

The thrumming of his soul mate mark was a tittering of butterfly wings behind his ear. Astarion touched the sensitive area, crimson view darkened. Tonight. Tonight he would damn himself and be set free.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

”I love you, birdie,” he breathed into the nape of Tav’s neck.

The sunlight had just broken through with the dawn, casting illuminating golden beams onto their naked bodies. They were entangled with one another. Limbs thrown over limbs. Algos, her lover, spooning against her back. Pale and ruddy against his farmer’s tan.

He moved her cool brown locks away from her neck, placing a tender kiss near her hairline.

“Mmm. You spoil me,” she sighed lovingly.

“Not nearly enough.” He grabbed her chin, pulling it towards him.

Tav turned onto her side. She trailed her fingers daintily up his arm, then to the soft skin around orbs of near obsidian that were his eyes. If only she could freeze this moment. Collect it in a bottle and bury it within herself so the details, this exact moment, would never shift.

She scooted closer to him, the weight of her breasts hanging off to the side squishing them together. Her lips so soft, pliant, pressing to his own. They were slightly chapped, but doughy. The dreamiest of exhales left her nostrils.

He leaned in to kiss her back. One peck after the other, along her jaw, her chin. An amorous embrace accompanied by the heat of his breath kindling her neck again.

“Taste me, Algos.”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Astarion hovered over Tav as she awoke. His mouth wide open, crisp air caressing her neck. His lips receded past their gums with teeth a pearly sheen in the light of the candle she had lit inside her tent.

“...Shit.” He cursed.

Her eyes opened wide in confusion, watching Astarion swiftly backing away from her. She was furious. “What the FUCK are you doing?! Explain. NOW.”

Tav grabbed the rapier she kept at her side while she tranced and brought her wobbly self up to nearly her full height without hitting the tent's ceiling. Her body’s temperature was still cool from resting, leaving her partially disoriented. She was dressed in nothing, except her smalls and a gauzy linen shirt that barely reached past her bottom.

“No, it’s not what it looks like! I swear. I’ve never killed anyone—at least for food. I wasn’t going to hurt you!” He was crouching, his hands up in surrender.

There was a disbelieving scoff she hissed out. “No?! Do not play these games with me Astarion! I am not an idiot. It looked like you were either going to bite me or assault me. I will run this rapier right through your ribs if you don’t leave immediately!” She pointed it towards him aggressively.

His voice was an octave above a shaking whisper, rounded eyes staring at her shamefully. “Wait, please! I just needed—blood. For food. I’m far weaker than I’d like to acknowledge. It’s pathetic.”

Then, when he altered his weight onto his other hip, the fine lines around his mouth having grown from their stressful interaction—she finally noticed. His lustrous teeth had sharp fangs, one on each side in place of a human’s usual canines. His pallid color looked even more unnatural than she paid attention to previously. The bluish hue bags of his eyes, a bit darker—presumably from lack of food.

A slave to his sanguine hunger.

Her voice was suddenly breathy. And then, as quietly as she could manage, she fanned out an unsettling laugh. “A vampire. Of all the things…why didn’t you tell me?!”

Astarion opened his mind and bid Tav to connect with his tadpole. She saw it unfolding. He held back some of the pieces that fit into the jigsaw that was him, but then there was something hungry and on edge removing parts of himself he’d never get back. His mind opened further revealing quaking, ruptured memories of tyrannical eyes commanding him to eat the only creature he was allowed: rats. The connection dissipates.

“You were forced to eat them or else you would have to starve? By the gods, Astarion,” she heedfully replied, lowering the rapier and propping it against one of the tent walls.

Tav registered she’d wept a few tears when a salty one dipped into the cupid’s bow of her lips. The raw mental images he shared with her were intense. This was not what she had expected from him, regardless of him being a vampire or a mortal. Her heart ached for him and if she knew he would have allowed it, she would have pulled him into a hug, muttering that he was safe into the crown of his hair.

“I—yes. Whatever disgusting vermin my master picked. I hope this explains why I was slow to trust you,” he hesitated awkwardly, adjusting his stance to try and relax his arms at his side. “But, right now, I do trust you. And you can trust me too. I may be out of line in asking you to trust me further, but if I only had just a little blood, I could fight better and my mind would be clear. Please.”

Tav considered his proposal, the desperation in his presently softer accent. If she consented to him feeding from her, she ran the risk of him killing her—either on purpose or by accident if he cannot control his hunger. However, she cannot deny this may be one of the first times since they’ve interacted that he was being ethically truthful with her. That he is aware of the risks if he does take her life. There will no longer be the presumption of his security nor the help of removing their worms.

The decision to be made was dangerous; she would not have much time to decide for the sake of herself, Astarion, and their sordid companions.

“You wish to feed from me, correct? But, not my neck. Not yet, anyways. Not until I know you’ll abide by your words in the future. Because you know as well as I do, that you certainly have a way with them,” she unexpectedly jested. “Will my wrist suffice for now?”

Astarion nodded quizzically. “I would only need a taste and not a drop more. If I wind up with a stake in my heart, well, I probably had it coming,” he chuckled. “That being said, your wrist is more than fine. Shall we make ourselves comfortable?”

Tav shook her head to reaffirm her consent and proceeded to sit on top of her bedroll in a cross legged pose, her shirt resting high above her pale thighs. The rosy buds of her nipples had pebbled, poking through the shirt’s fabric. Her areolas, a delightful crepe pink, faintly visible in the light.

She scrunched up the left sleeve of the shirt revealing, not only her wrist, but the beginnings of a full tattoo from her forearm up the length of her bicep. There were a couple of birds resting on branches, chirping happily, surrounded by flowers and laurel leaves. A beautiful woman's face with a rapier in her hand, sat further up. The style would have been considered feminine by how delicate it appeared. All of the colors were muted reds, greens, and earthy tones that seemed to suit her—only adding to her natural beauty.

Astarion bent down to rest on his knees in front of her, the smooth leather of his pants tantalizingly grazing against her shins. She could feel him studying her figure, the ink on her arm. Then, he lingered on the shape of her breasts through her shirt, and back up to the flush that was spreading over her cheeks. He held out his arm towards her, his hand facing up.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His voice was soothing, humble even, gently inviting her to sacrifice herself to him.

May your blood be consecrated, the sacrament fulfilled. Waste not, want more. For you give yourself willingly for his power and nourishment. The gods be with you.

She extended her arm, first dropping her index finger into his palm, then tip-toeing the rest of her digits until her hand fully rested on his own. The glacial temperature of his skin flowed through her body entirely like titillating electricity. Tav bit back a moan when his other hand covered hers and moved up to the inside of her wrist, caressing the silky skin.

It had been years since she was touched so intimately by a man. The sensations with each movement of his fingertips rubbing circles into her skin, caused her to swallow down a gasp. Every instinctual nerve inside of her was at war, either to push him away to the far reaches of Faerûn or to offer her blood to the man that somehow made her feel virginal by the swipe of his lithe fingers across her palm.

“You’re trembling.”

“I’m nervous and you're cold,” Tav uttered with a shudder.

“Hmm.” Astarion continued massaging, occasionally feeling the throb of her pulse. “Where are you from originally? Your birth place.”

“Wha—the Dalelands,” she managed to answer.

“And which of your parents is a high elf?” He continued.

“My father. My mother is a wood elf. How did you know?

He smiled tenderly. “I could tell by your fair features.”

She tilted her head towards him. Was he trying to distract her? The efforts were working.

He lifted her wrist to his faded pink lips, placing them airily on the stretch of her visible veins. A chilled breath exhaled through his elegant nose. “Why did you move to Baldur’s Gate?

Arrhythmia started overtaking the organ in her chest. She fisted the edge of her shirt in her free hand, sighing heavily. “I needed a change of scenery: to start anew.”

Astarion pecked her wrist. A shallow gravel of his throat vibrated against her skin when he lightly started to suckle on the outline of her vein.

She cried out sweetly. Her chest swelled in tandem with the swift movements of her breathing, but not from the nervousness she thought would plague her stomach with knots. No, it was from the longing ache of skin to skin contact he had unknowingly granted her.

"Shhh. Shh. We wouldn't want to wake anyone now would we?" He lightly bit her finger in warning and then slid his tongue back up to her wrist.

Tav was wet. Considerably so. She felt the petals of her cunt drench in want the longer he prolonged his desires for her blood. It occurred to her that he may be waiting for her to give him the final confirmation for him to bite her, but oh hells, when she noticed his bulge straining in his pants, she conjured up a reverie of her climbing into his lap and grinding herself up and down his length begging for him to take her.

Astarion moaned into her wrist. He had trailed his left hand up to hold her elbow, while the right still held onto her hand—waiting patiently. Her clit was throbbing; she would have given anything to move even the slightest bit to feel pressure placed upon it. Any sort of relief to wash over her to abate the shivers of her flesh, to shake the image of him biting and sucking on her breasts.

Eyes half-lidded, she willed herself to speak. “Astarion?”

Rubbing the point of his fangs in contact with her flesh, his tone was huskier. “Yes, Tavelle?”

Dear Oghma grant mercy on this woman!

It had been the first time he had mentioned the full length of her name. And it was as clear as a magical forest revealing a trail to honeyed fruits she should not partake. What kind of man could be capable of appearing as both a divine creature and one that could lure her into the shadows?

Burning, burning, burning.

“Bite me.”

The sting of his fangs entering her wrist was like two icy shards stabbing her. Her blood filled his mouth in short spurts and he had trouble containing it all. At the corners of his mouth, two streams of her red essence dribbled down towards his chin.

Astarion gripped onto her arm tighter, involuntarily pulling her closer to him. Greedily, he gulped her down, sometimes stopping to lick at the puncture wounds before wrapping his maw around her wrist once more to swallow her down. He hummed in pleasure the longer he drank, possessed by the taste.

Tav felt lethargic. “ ‘Starion.”

He didn’t hear her. The scarlet of his eyes had grown foggy with a glaze of something voracious and abysmal. Guttural sounds accompanied slurps of her blood as his fangs dug in deeper.

Tav’s head fell forward meekly. She grasped onto his silvery curls with the strength that was slowly being depleted and tugged. “Astarion you must—NO MORE!”

All at once, he released her, falling backwards onto his elbows. He licked his fingers with a pleasing noise, as if he’d just treated himself to an extravagant feast.

“You were—you tasted amazing!” Breathing in quick shudders he added, "I feel…happy. Strong. My mind isn’t clouded.”

Still slumped over, she attempted to placate the vertigo that was causing her head to swim by regulating her breathing. She sounded raspy. “Could you please help me to lay down?”

“Ah! Yes, but of course. It’s the least I could do after that invigorating experience.”

Astarion crawled over to her. Cradling her against his torso, he considerately brought her down to rest on her bedroll. It was flattened, probably uncomfortable, but to Tav and her ailing situation—it felt perfect.

“Are you alright?” He asked, leaning over her, wiping her sweaty bangs from her face.

His scent rolled over her, lulling her to enter a trance. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, perhaps from her adrenaline spiking, but it was pure heaven. Bergamot, rosemary, and smokier warm notes.

“Mmhmm. A bit weak is all.”

She reached up and wiped the drying blood from his chin and lips with her sleeve, providing him with a tired simper. “Astarion? Thank you for trusting me tonight.”

He tensed as she touched him. Jaw tight. A furrowed brow. His eyes moved back and forth, searching hers. Something uncharacteristic briefly showed behind his inspection of her, then just as swiftly, faded away.

Strange.

Standing upright, Astarion turned to leave her tent. He looked over his shoulder, his voice a serious temper. “Rest well. I still need to hunt to fill myself completely, but this was a gift you know. I won’t forget it. ”

Snuggling into her blankets, she recalled the events of the night. The bizarre appeal of his icy breath. The arousal she felt when he stroked her. The pain mixed with carnal desire as he bit her. The weight of truths they shared. His unforeseen concern for her comfort. A veracity of his soul, bared to her before he left.

And as her lashes laid in long weaves along the edges of her closed eyelids, her last thoughts as she drifted off to enter the dream realm, were about the closeness Astarion unintentionally gave her that she hadn’t felt in years.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion acunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #bg3 #baldur's gate #epistles of saints & sinners #bard tav #spawn astarion

[prisoner-of-sin]

Moments Alone

Coquelic x Female!Reader

This was originally a request on Ao3. There will be a part two that include NSFW, for now..there is only gonna be SFW.

Requests: OPEN

Slender arms wrap around your neck as Coquelic's warm breath lingers near your ear. You feel the goosebumps spread on the back of your neck as she scratches over your skin. The side of her face nuzzles against your own as she opens her mouth.

"If you were to bother me more often, I'd believe you were in love with me." You admit interrupting her, glancing at Coquelic who playfully rolls her eyes. She pulls you away from the desk and slowly leads you toward the door.

"Perhaps you're right..I wish to see the gardens and Chief said I needed someone with me. Why not my favorite person?" You look between Coquelic and the door before nodding, allowing her to take the lead. She takes you through the facility, swiftly weaving through people and arriving at the location in record time. Her eyes soften at the variety of colors and her hand slips from yours.

You are taken back by how much Coquelic feels safe around the flowers. The way her fingers treat the petals with such gentleness, you forgot she was a powerful sinner. Her attention was fully absorbed by the garden itself, her eyes fluttered closed and you couldn't help the smile slipping on your lips. You quietly walk toward her, observing the way she is at peace.

"Does it still bother you?" You whisper. Coquelic looks at you briefly before returning to the beds. She doesn't answer right away, seemingly to decide an answer or she wishes to not speak about it. You rub the back of your neck and take the seat next to her. Maybe bringing up the fact shes close to death was too sensitive. You reach forward and grab her chin, making her look at you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." You admit, a frown settling on your perfect lips. Coquelic hates when that happens. She abruptly moves but you manage to keep her in place, slowly closing the gap between you both. She's at a loss for words, her eyes closed when your lips meet hers; melding together like two puzzle pieces meant for one another.

You carefully tug Coquelic onto your lap, allowing your hands to plant on her hips and keep her close. She squirms against you and tightly grabs your shirt. She pulls away, cheeks as bright as crimson can get.

"W-what?!" Coquelic tries to say, but the words are failing. She stays seated on you as her lips attach to your jaw, her tongue traces the soft skin as she agonizingly returns to your lips.

"I don't want this to end.." Coquelic admits, keeping the distance short. Her breath warms up your lips, "It all ends too quickly, keep holding me close." You barely heard her mumble. You crush her to your body tightly as you try to be as close as possible. It was frightening to think about the future without her. There is still hope that she has more time than she was told.

#path to nowhere #ptn #path to nowhere x reader #ptn x reader #path to nowhere coquelic #ptn coquelic #ptn coquelic x reader #path to nowhere coquelic x reader

[galaxywing-has-adhd]

Ava being comforted by her friends + family while on her period

(A/n I wrote this for myself but I'm still gonna post it)

Charlie

When her sister comes into the room, announce that she's on her period, she makes a trust exercise based on taking care of others during times like these

She may have done a power point presentation on female antimony

When the mood swing happens she is a bit scared

She does her best to keep her calm or else she may go full demon mode

Lucifer

Ducks

He gives her ducks to squeeze when in pain

The entire hotel is going nuts 30 minutes into it

He is literally ready for anything

Her favorite music is on

No arguments between him and alastor

She is his 1# priority for the entire week

Alastor

He smells the hormones and blood from a mile away

"Oh, you poor thing" are his first words when he sees her

His shadow is now at her side at all times

Brings Rosie to the hotel for advice

He knows a lot about the topic due to his mother telling him about it when he was younger

He won't try to start something with Lucifer

Vaggie

Despite being an exorcist, she didn’t know how to help when she first met ava and charlie

She's learned throughout the past 3 years and is now better at it

Ava helped her a lot during her first period and she's been trying to return the favor ever since

If ava needs to go somewhere she will carry her if she doesn't want to walk

A random sinner is bothering her, they're gone

Angel

He grew up with a twin sister, he knows a lot about it

Makes comments like "sex will help with the cramps" or "you should let someone eat you out"

He's honestly scared during her mood swings

He trys his best to help but might make her a bit uncomfortable

He will buy her some advil if she's out of it

Niffty

She gives her a bag of dead bugs to take her anger out on

Dusts and sprays every place she sits

Honestly she's probably going be kept away from ava unless ava wants to see her

Husk♤

"Do ya want a drink?" Are the first words out of his mouth

He keeps niffty away from her

He definitely has a few heating pads for her that he barely uses

Will let her vent to him until her voice is gone

Poor man got traumatized

Sir pentious (when he was still around)

He has given her frank

Also has heating pads for her

He's building a machine that will help with cramps

"Princesssss do you need anything from me?"

He's such a sweet heart

He doesn't know a lot about periods due to the fact he died in the 19th century

But He's trying his best

Rosie

Was brought into this by alastor

"Oh my! Sweet heart are you okay?"

Rosie is giving her chocolate when she asks for it

Pads she has pads for her

"How heavy do you bleed?"

She will gossip with ava about anything Ava likes

Cherri

Like Rosie she was dragged into this

"Get off the floor bitch! It ain't gonna make ya feel better!"

When ava is angry she will take her into pentagram city and let her blow something up

"Ya feel'n better bitch?"

If she sees ava looking at someone like she wants to fuck them she will say "I could set you up with them if ya want"

Gossiping with ava about people she hates getting what they deserve

She may or may not have something to do with that

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #alastor #charlie hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #hazbin hotel lucifer #vaggie #cherri bomb #angel dust #period #oc + canon #sir pentious #hazbin hotel rosie #menstrual cycle

[cielcreations]

Hazbin Hermits - Prologue

AN: Hermitcraft/Empires/3rd Life Series X Hazbin Hotel AU.

Meaning lots of cursing, fighting, blood, violence, flirting, shipping, sexual innuendos/implied sexual content, and pretty much everyone is a bad person to some degree.

If you don't like your favorite characters made to be not so great people, then do not read.

"Good afternoon! I'm Katherine Killjoy!"

"And I'm Joey JaxHammer! Chaos outside pentagram city today, as a turf war is raging on the west side between notable kingpins Lord Fwhip and self-proclaimed spunky powerhouse Mythical Sausage!"

"That's right Joey! After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs! Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory!"

"Those two seem to be really going at it, huh?"

"Looks like they're fighting tooth and nail for that hotspot!"

"And I'd like to nail their hotspots, am I right, fellas~?"

"Haha, you are a limp dick jackass, Joey! Or should I say-" Katherine poured her hot coffee on his lap, the man hissing and moving before she could actually spill it on his dick, "-no dick?"

"Bitch." The man hissed.

"Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the younger son of Hell's own head honcho, who's here to discuss his brand-new passion project!"

"All that, after the break!" Joey exclaimed, taking his mug and pouring his coffee on Katherine's head.

"YOU LITTLE SH-"

The two looked away from the TV. The blue haired demon tugged the tie a bit tighter, just to make the prince look more presentable.

"Okay." He finished, stepping back, "Are you ready? You remember what to say?"

The blonde took a deep breath, his purple eyes widening in excitement as he exclaimed, "Yes! Let's do this!"

"Just, look at me, and I'll mouth it to you, Zed." The man grabbed the prince's shoulders.

Zed had light blonde hair with brown ram horns, pale skin, wearing a black suit with a red tie, no shoes so his hooves could breath.

"Ugh, come ooooon, Tango, I know what to say!" Zed reassured, smiling, "But, I do think we should make it a bit more interesting! I-I mean, I don't want to go up there and sound robotic, you know?"

Tango, normally, had yellow hair, that could change into different colors depending on how hot he got. Since he could control fire and such, his hair would change colors to match the fire type and, sometimes, it could even turn on fire. His skin was pale with a bit of a blue tint, his nails sharpened into claws. He wore a black crop top and black shorts, long black heeled boots. He also had black belts wrapped around his waist with golden buckles, black cloth to create an overskirt. (Art of Tango by @/lunarcrown)

"I get that, babe, but this is serious." Tango reminded him, "You can't go up there and squeal and giggle the whole time. It's adorable, yes, but not all sinners are going to trust and believe in your project unless you look serious and you know what you're doing."

"I told you through a fit of excited squeals."

"Yeah, and I listened because I know and believe in you." The demon motioned to the others, "These sinners don't. They don't know you, they barely know your older brother, and they certainly won't believe in you at first. It's why you gotta go up there, show them who's in charge, and act like this plan is full-proof!"

"But we don't know if it is..." Zed reminded.

"Your right, and neither do they." Tango booped his nose, "Which is our advantage. No one knows if this works, but if we act like we're the experts, people believe."

"Prince Zedaph? Five minutes before we're live." A demon called.

Tango smiled at the blonde, kissing his forehead, "You got this! I'll be right behind the camera, so if you need me?"

Zed nodded, smiling, "Don't worry, I got this!"

He turned around, walking to the desk and smiling, offering his hand, "Hi, I'm Zed-"

"Katherine Killjoy." The female anchor hissed, "You can put that away. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie." She then sneered, "Look, my time is money, so I'll keep this short. You're not here because we wanted you here. You're here because Jeffery couldn't make it to his cannibal cooking segment! You may be some royal bigshot, but that doesn't mean shit to me! I'm too rich and influential to giving a flying fuck about some tux wearing demon 'prince'-" (she put "prince" in quotations, as if Zed wasn't one) "-wants to advertise."

Zed narrowed his eyes, "Listen-"

Katherine leaned forward, glaring, "So don't get cute with me, or I'll fucking break you!"

"And we're live!"

Katherine zoomed to her seat, tilting her head so much, it sounded like she broke it, "Welcome back!" Once Zed was sat down, she spoke again, "So, Zedaph!"

The blonde's eyes twitched as he smiled awkwardly, "It's Zed-"

"Whatever! Tell us about this new passion project you've been insistently pestering our news station about!"

"Welllllll..." Zed looked around at the demons, Tango standing by the camera man with a smile and thumbs up. He smiled and took a deep breath as he spoke, "As most of you know, I was born here in Hell and growing up, I tried to see the good in everything around me. Hell is my home and you are my people. We just went through another extermination and we lost so many souls! It breaks my heart seeing my people being slaughtered every year!" He slammed his fist on the table, sighing, "No one is even given a chance and I can no longer stand idly by when the place I call home, the place I love, is constantly being destroyed!"

He stood up, smiling, "So, I've been thinking, isn't there a more humane way to hinder Hell's overpopulation? Perhaps we can find a new alternative way to save souls through redemption? I think yes, and that's what this project aims to achieve! Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, I'm opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!"

Everyone was silent, staring at the man.

Everyone outside stared at the TV.

One in particular tilted his head in curiosity.

Everyone in the news station... started laughing.

Zed shrunk in on himself as Tango moved to stand beside him, his blue hair turning into flames as he glared at everyone.

"What in the nine circles makes you think a single person in hell would give two shits about becoming a 'better person?!'" Katherine cackled, "You have no proof that this actually works and you want people to be good just because?!"

"You have no proof it doesn't work!" Tango hissed, flames surrounding his body, "Besides, we already have a patron who's showing incredible improvement!"

"Ooooooh, and who might that be~?" Katherine sneered.

Tango leaned forward, intentionally burning her wooden table with a smirk, "Oh, just someone named, SmallishBeans."

"The pornstar?" Joey asked.

"You fucking would, Joey." Katherine glared before snickering, "In any case, that's hardly an accomplishment! I'm sure you can get that hooker to do anything with enough lube and sugar!"

Tango continued to burn her table, the woman looking ready to scratch his eyes out as he drew little doodles, "I beg to differ."

Zed also perked up, smirking, "He's been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for two weeks now!"

"Breaking news!"

Katherine perked up before she smirked, pushing the men away, "We just received word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let's go to the live feed!"

They turned to the TV and Tango pinched his temples as he tried to control himself, Zed muttering out, "Oh shit."

"Oh shit, indeed!" Katherine exclaimed, "It appears the one to join is none other than porn actor Joel, aka, SmallishBeans!" She looked at the two, "What a juicy coincidence! I bet you feel real stupid right now! How does it feel to be a total and utter failure?!"

She began laughing, everyone did, once more.

Tango tried to control himself as Zed clenched his fists.

The prince looked at Tango with glowing red eyes, "Fucking, show them who's boss."

Tango smirked, his teeth sharpening to points, "Gladly."

He jumped across the table, lighting everything on fire as he began to beat Katherine and Joey.

***

The prince and his boyfriend sat in a limo, across from the other sinner. The sinner had brown hair with a green streak in the middle of his hair, matching his green eyes and green antenna. He wore a long white and light green suit blazer, the top unbuttoned and showing off his muscular chest. He had black shorts and long, knee length black heeled boots. To top it off, he had green transparent fairy wings on his back.

They watched as he rolled the window up and down, clearly in his own little world. Eventually, he seemed to notice the two were staring at him.

The brunette stopped, leaned back, and shrugged, "What?"

"'What?' 'WHAT?!'" Tango screamed, his hair turning to blue, almost purple flames, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, JOEL?!"

"Ugh, I had too, I owed Sausage a solid!" Joel huffed, "Isn't that one of those 'redeeming qualities'? Helping friends and all that?!"

Zed leaned into the window with a groan as Tango reprimanded him, "Not in turf wars that result in genocide?!"

"Meh, you win some, you loose a few hundred!"

"Joel, that was really not cool." Zed groaned, "You just... You made us look like jokes!"

"Nah, chill out, jokes are funny! I made you all look sad and pathetic!"

"Oh, cause that's any better?!" Tango growled.

"Look, I had to!" Joel argued, "My reputation was on the line! You know what people would say if they found out I was trying to go clean?! Not to mention, people would know where I am and try to break into the hotel to get some of me! Do you want a whole mob down there?"

"Listen, if you want to stay here, you need to take this shit seriously!" Tango demanded, walking towards the brunette, "We're not going to give you a free room, free food, free whatever else if all you do is fuck around! So, you either sit down, buckle the fuck up, and try to redeem yourself and help the hotel's reputation, that you burned to cinder!" He glared, flames coming out of his mouth, "Got it?"

Joel groaned, "Okay, fine, whatever."

"C-Calm down, Tango." Zed offered his hand, Tango moving to sit beside him again, "I-It's not over yet, we can still try! It'll be okay!"

The limo stopped at the hotel and the three went inside. Tango flopped on the couch with a groan, Joel grabbing a popsicle and sitting in a chair. Zed groaned and went to go upstairs, only to stop.

Someone knocked on the door.

He walked towards it and opened the door.

In front of him stood a tall dirty blonde man with his eyes closed, wearing a blue striped coat with dark blue sleeves, the coat falling to his knees. Underneath the coat, he wore a white dress shirt with a black upside down cross on the chest, as if to resemble a tie, long black dress pants with bright blue cuffs. Over his feet, he wore black heeled boots that rested under his pants. Behind his back, he held a long thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it.

The whole time, he smiled.

Zed shrunk a little as the man opened his eyes. He had black sclera with blue eyes, staring down at the prince.

"HELLO!" He spoke, his voice altered to sound like that of a broadcast.

Zed shut the door on instinct, "Uh, Tango?"

"Whaaaaat?" The flame demon groaned.

"The Radio Demon is at the door!"

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #empires smp #empireshipping #third life series #third life smp #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hermitcraft au #empires smp au #empires au #third life smp au #zedaph #tangotek #solidaritygaming #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans

[lifmera]

Hiiii, can I get a Hazbin match-up please?

I'm a bi girl, so male of female works!

Looks wise, I'm a taller girl with brown curly hair. I've been told I dress like a teacher, if that gives an idea of my style. I like colourful outfits, cardigans, sundresses, that kind of thing.

Personality wise, I'm kind of an anxious extrovert. I'm very social and easily exitable, I'll strike up a conversation with anyone anywhere. However, I'm also a major people pleaser, like I always refuse to make plans or say what I want to do bc im worried others won't want to do it. I tend to be quite loud and out going, I talk a lot,(like, too much. A real chatterbox) however when it comes to talking about my feelings, that's not going to happen. Im a very gentle person(like the kind of girl everyone says 'oh, you would make a great mom some day!' To, if that makes sense) My favorite colour is pink, I love cats, and my favorite movies are the greatest showman and the nightmare before Christmas.

Idk if this is enough, I hope it is!!!

Hey Honey!! Ofc! 🩷

Honestly I though Charlie would work but-

I’ve decided to pair you with ��. CARMILLA!

She loves your style- it’s easy on the eyes! She also probably would dress like that too if she was on earth!!

She usually has monochrome, I think being with you would be such a nice shift! The cute couple thats like monochrome and then her gf is like the cutest colorful girl!!

She LOVES that you are extroverted! She needs someone talkative at moments. She herself is naturally a leader.

She loves that you ask for input- but she’s afraid for you! She’s worried that being a people pleaser could possibly screw you over at some point! She doesn’t want any mental challenges!

Carmilla won’t try to pry anything out of you! She understands- please take your time!

She’d love if you are gonna be a great mom! She’d love if you took care of her daughters, they mean EVERYTHING to her!

She loves that you love the cuter things- she definitely believes you are a winner and not a sinner.

~~~~

I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin husk #hazbin nifty #hazbin vaggie #hazbin adam #hazbin mimzy #habin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #hazbin spoilers #hazbin vees #hazbin velvette #hazbin carmilla #hazbin rosie #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin lilith #hazbin lute #hazbin emily #hazbin sera

[everlastlady]

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☕Author's Note: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, & powerful overlords. Here is another story for today then I'm going to go rest and scroll through Pinterest. Since it's hot and I wanna rest so my apologies if this one is short but I hope you enjoy and if you did then don't forget to comment, like, or reblog.

☕Word Count: 798

☕Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

☕Characters: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, & Cherri Bomb.

☕Question Of The Day: Favorite Way To Relax?

☕Author's Answer: Music, Pinterest, Guitar, & Sleeping.

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Female Hazbin X Goth Female Reader.

Charlie: The demon princess and you were complete polar opposites but you both loved each other. Charlie loved watching you do your make-up and sometimes she would help you. You both did each other's eyeliner. “ You know what would be cute if we did matching outfits! “ Charlie would say with a sweet smile and pleading eyes. You couldn’t say no to your girlfriend so you agreed. So you helped Charlie match in darker colors like you. Her father was surprised to see but when seeing you wear the same outfit. He saw why so he declared a family portrait. So Lilith and him dressed in dark colors and you all had your picture taken. Charlie made sure to treasure the moment with you. Charlie loved to play with your chains and bracelets. She found them adorable. Sometimes she would you collars, rings, and make-up. “ Hey (Y/N), I made you something. “ You would turn around to see that Charlie had made you a collar. You smiled and took the black leather collar and kissed your girlfriend. Charlie’s sweet smile always brightens your day so you would wear the collar every day. Charlie knew that you like spooky things so she would get you spooky little items that you would like. During movie night the two of you would cuddle and watch some horror movies. Charlie loved these movies. “ Maybe we could go see the new Ghoul’s Blood movie next month? “ She said while cuddling you.

Vaggie: Your girlfriend Vaggie always went to your concerts that you sang at. She loved hearing you sing and just projecting your voice out with your beautiful screams. She was also protective of you whenever fans try to run up on stage. She would watch you sign autographs and whenever it was cold you would place your black leather jacket on her shoulders. She would smile and if you weren’t looking she would smell the jacket. Vaggie would help you decorate your leather jacket and help you with your make-up. You both would paint each other’s nails. “ I brought you this bone. I found it while I was shopping at the store. “ She would hand you the demonic bird skull and you place it on your desk and give her a kiss. Before going to work, Vaggie would always have to make sure she wasn’t covered in black or dark red lipstick. “ (Y/N) stop I have to go to work! “ She would laugh when you kissed her neck and cheek. Sometimes Vaggie might match with you and the only thing you two have gotten close to with matching was shirts that you both made. Vaggie loved to help you dye your hair and she was careful when doing it. Using the best products for your hair because she wanted your hair to stay healthy. “ Are you sure you want this color? Because we aren’t going to dye again this month. You need to make sure to keep your hair healthy. “ She said in a serious tone. You had gotten a moth tattoo with Vaggie’s name underneath and this made her happy. “ Heh, I love you too (Y/N). “

Cherri Bomb: “ Fuck yeah goth girlfriend! ” Is what Cherri said when she asked you out when she tagged a wall asking you to be her girlfriend which you accepted because you loved her. Cherri loved the darker colors that you wore. “ You should let me cut up your jeans a bit. I can make them look cool even your shirts. “ She said with a smirk. You did let Cherri decorate some of your clothes and she did keep her word. She made them look cool so whenever you bought something and wanted it cool or darker then your girlfriend made sure to make it pop and make it fit your aesthetic. “ Shit when did you get taller? Oh, wait your short again? “ She would laugh seeing that you had bought platform boots. Which she thought was cool and cute. She would help you decorate your boots with charms. Going to concerts with Cherri was always fun. She knew how to dance and jam out. That you would record and take pictures. Cherri always got you tickets to see your favorite band or singer. “ You could poke someone’s eye out with those. “ Cherri would admire your sharp black painted nails. If she asked then you scratch her back which she loved. “ Ah, ~ Thanks, babe! “ She would kiss you. Speaking of kisses, Cherri loves when you kissed her wrist. She would always have you kiss her wrist before she left the house to go cause some chaos, she called it her good luck charm. “ I’ll try not to wash it off or smudge it. “ She would give you kisses in return. “ I love you so much. “

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #viziepop #hazbin x reader #hazbin x female reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #cherri bomb x reader #hazbin characters #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin lucifer #fandoms #fandom #fan fiction #fanfic #hazbin fanfic #hazbin fandom #writerscorner #writing #my writing #request ☕📖