#i just like his silly lute playing

[purplepotatobread]

I couldn't give two fucks that Kvothe is probably twisting his story to make himself look good, he's doing a really good job of it and I think he deserves me to believe him. He is perfect in my eyes.

[criticalfai1ure]

edgin is a multi class bard/rogue who doesn’t know he has spell slots – WRONG. if ed multi classes at all it’s as a paladin/bard who forgot his spellcasting was something he’d had before he’d ever become a harper.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

LAYING NEXT TO ADAM IN HIS HOSPITAL BED AFTER EP 8 AND NOT BEING ABLE TO SLEEP SO JUST PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR??

LOVE YOU LOTS, FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS IF YOU WANT 💗💗💗

yesssssssssss i love this it’s so cute, i did it a lil short sweet and lovelyyyyy sorry it took awhile but i hope you enjoy it!

warnings: none really, descriptions of injuries, swearing and that’s about it, short drabble! gn reader w no psychical description, a little bit of a weird ending? didn’t know how to tie it off

You and Adam have always had an odd relationship, you would have moments of really open closeness followed by acting like it never happened. You were comfortable with this because the idea of anything more serious scared you, it wasn’t like heaven was keen on hookups or lust, which meant any relationship led to marriage. So you would ignore your desires and longing, and instead focus on working alongside him.

Adam was of the same mind, he couldn’t hook up with you because it felt wrong to use you like some sinner when he actually liked you. You were always there to listen, telling him that he had every right to hate Lucifer for taking his wives; which he knew but always needed to hear from others, just to reaffirm. Of course he was too afraid to start anything serious with you when the furthest he got was some open communication and occasional dirty jokes shared between you two. There wasn’t any room for him to have a third heartbreak especially when he was now in closer proximity with the devil himself.

That’s why it was a shock when he watched you decend from above spear in hand, wings fluttering lusciously around you. You came back for him, you saw Lucifer and chose to protect him. As you sat alongside him keeping him alive while you could, Lucifer attempted to coax you on his end. “Can’t you see the things he’s done? He’s the devil.” Lucifer boomed holding his daughter. “Cmon we have a good cause here!” - “Saving him means killing others, that’s not very angelic on you.” - “The first man only uses women to fuel his ego and get him off, cocksleaves he uses and forgets. How’s it feel to be that silly little strumpet?”

No matter the harsh line the devil hissed out at you as you tearfully held Adam’s wound, using all the magic you had to keep him alive, and ignoring the taunts and tempts Lucifer spoke. Thankfully what felt like eternity ended, and now you sat alongside the man himself, staring at his paled face. You’d never seen Adam’s face before, Lute wasn’t as strict you’d seen her plenty, but Adam was always skeptical of letting you see him.

You never knew about the exterminations, and although you weren’t entirely pleased he lied, and killed, you justified it by reminding yourself of all the rapist, murders and weird child diddlers that he wiped out of existence. Staring at the side of Adam’s face you admired the ride burns that climbed down his face and the little patch of hair that accentuated his chin.

Leaning onto the bed, you softly and timidly brought your hand up to his cheek, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your hand. Gently you caressed his face, trailing all around and up to his hair. You carefully brushed your fingers through his spiked and messy hair, scratching his scalp gently as you did.

A sigh of content escaped you as you began to play with his hair, twirling it and brushing it back away from his pretty face. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you died, dumbass. I would’ve regret so much, but now that you’re here and okay I’m just as afraid to say.” You whispered to him quietly, watching his face as his muscle naturally moved and spasmed every once and awhile. He had been out a few days now, a medically induced coma until he healed internally, which was the hardest thing to witness.

Everyday you came and spent some time here with Lute, then Lute would leave and you would stay keeping him company. Sliding up on the bed with him, you situated yourself beside him, your wings curling around him like a safety blanket, head rested on his chest. You cradled his head continually toying with his hair while you gazed off into space, eyes watering as you did so.

You woke up to the doctor entering the room, scolding you for impeding on the patients space, and then happily explained the next plan of action. He was going to be weened off the medication and would hopefully be awake within the week then it was normal wound care from there.

The pattern for the week didn’t change, accept you found yourself enamoured with his hair and face in general, who could blame you, you’ve only seen it now after all these years. You waited everyday to see his eyes flutter open, pinning over the multitude of fantasies you had in your head when he did so. However it was as magical when the day came.

You had his wing over your lap one Saturday, humming a tune stuck in your head as you carefully preened his feathers. Some were still covered in char from the day, leaving a weird nostalgic feeling within you, but not the good kind.

You glanced over at him as his leg twitched violently, his wings puffing along with it. You watched his eyelids flutter just barely, his eyes moving rapidly behind them. Careful not to disturb him, you dragged your fingers through his hair, this time however, Adam’s skin prickled with goosebumps and his body twitched. “Adam?” You whispered, hope evident in your voice as you leaned in closer, investigating his facial expressions.

Adam shifted more at your voice his golden irises finally opening to meet your own. Your stomach lurched at the sight, tears gathering as you got overwhelmed by joy. “Holy fuck Adam!” You cried keeling over into his chest with a sob. Adam still lost, didn’t know what to do, and quite honestly couldn’t fully register who you were to him at the moment. After a second you pulled away gripping his cheeks softly between your hands, Adam looked at you eyes tired feeling sleepless. Finally it clicked, and the heart monitor kicked up with his beats, he nearly died.

“What the fuck?” Adam muttered confused, his voice hoarse and grainy from the lack of use. Tears continued to fall from your eyes as Adam cleared his throat, his own eyes manically hopping from object to object around the room. “You’re one dumb motherfucker yknow that? Fighting Lucifer!? God,” You shook his head gently to emphasize your anger with his decision. Adam only grinned lazily up at you with lidded eyes, his heart rate increasing as he did so.

“Woah, am i in heaven? Because you’re an angel.” Adam slurred out smirking smugly as he did. You gaped at him, he only giggle jubilantly his arms raising slowly to slowly pull you into a hug. You met his movements and fell into his hug with ease mind still trying to comprehend everything. “God you’re an idiot you know that?” You mumbled into his flesh, pushing yourself further into his chubby peck. “Yea babe but that’s why you love me.”

You let out a noise between a scoff and a chuckle before agreeing. “Very true, not even the devil could change that.” Adam tensed at the mention of Lucifer, but his brain tracked back to the day of thee extermination where you decended into hell just for him, to save him. Adam remembered all the things Lucifer was slinging at you, the snake was really trying his hardest to make you fall. “What’d you think of Lucifer?” Adam dared to ask, all the groggy wooze leaving him, focusing all his energy on you agaisnt him. “Nothing special, i was too busy tryna save you.”

Adam’s heart fluttered as did his wings, puffing out and subtly jittering happily. Pulling your head up from his chest you looked down at him positioning yourself over his lips. Adam thought he may have been kidding himself, still in his coma dreaming all this up. “Alright dickhead, i’m going to kiss you, then we’re gonna get the doctor in here and get your ass home, and you’re going to tell me why the hell you kept all that extermination shit from me.” You grit out strictly, a smile on your face as you did. He always secretly found it hot when you tried bossing him around, it stroked his ego when he could talk back to you and get into little competition for dominance and control.

However, Adam really didn’t feel like fighting, nor missing the option for a kiss, so with a smug smirk he puckered his lips and closed his eyes, almost expecting you not to actually kiss him. You smashed your lips against his, flattening his puckered lips and making him gasp with shock. Adam didn’t waste time to recover, messily mashing his tongue into your mouth, sighing at the feeling of you on his tongue. After a few moments of intertwined bliss you pulled away with a warm smile. “You really wanna fuck around with the original dick?” Adam urged a cocky look in his eye, but a part of you knew this was just his way of confirming you wanted him. “Yes i do, i have no clue why the others left for Lucifer when they had you. After all, without a nose, what supposed to bump your clit during head?” Adam sat up with excitedly, wincing at the pain. “Right?!” The exclamation made you grin, and with a pat on the chest you stood, ready to grab the doctor.

[teatitty]

I feel like people don't appreciate enough that Dandelion is a fast slippery little fucker. Granted we don't see this much since the books are heavily Geralt POV, but it's mentioned that a lot of his dalliances involve him scaling up houses, jumping out of windows, sliding down drainpipes, running along rooftops etc and that is hard as fuck to do

He's basically committing AssCreed level parkour and is able to outrun almost anyone who comes after him. When he's not travelling with Geralt, he has to be able to get out of trouble by himself somehow and since he's not a fighter that means being good at running, hiding and talking

Not only this but in Last Wish, as someone pointed out on my posts once, it's shown that when riding his horse, he can effortlessly lift one leg to hook over the pommel of his saddle while playing his lute at the same time the horse is moving. That's a lot of skill and balance and knowing your own horse's temperment and what they're willing to put up with. He's not just a casual rider he's an experienced rider pulling off shit that you'd only see from pros

Idk man it's just a little irritating how often he's reduced to "horny silly bard" when he has these skills under his belt too and is obviously capable of keeping up with hunting parties and actual warriors without much issue ya know?

[the-world-annealing]

Watched the new D&D movie and the main character is pretty clearly supposed to be a bard (wacky, witty, giant lute slung over his back), but they got rid of bardic music effects for being really silly and got rid of the casting so the party's sorcerer could have 'spellcaster' as his hat (the druid got a similar treatment but at least they expanded what wildshape could do in compensation).

Except at that point the bard doesn't have a lot of in-class features anymore, so to keep this dude relevant he just ended up as the 'plan guy' and face, and in combat he mostly runs around dodging explosions. If he attacks someone, it's by whacking them on the head from behind, because that's the only way a noncombat guy like him can still plausibly contribute to fights.

But of course, 'evasive ambusher with many out-of-combat skills, including musical performance' is already a D&D class. And I am really amused by the thought of hundreds of D&D newbies asking how to play the funny movie bard and getting told they should consider being rogues.

[angelicpoison12]

sugary sweet ✧˖°.

just a silly aftercare moment with Adam, but he gets his feelings hurt a little

word count: 664

tags: drabble, Adam drabble, Adam being Adam, suggestive (at the end), Adam is butthurt over being called a 'big back', discussion of animals, tooth rotting fluff, pillowy comfort, SFW, MFA, gn!reader, no pronouns used on r, no use of y/n, Adam is a crybaby

SFW ✦

“if you were an animal, what do you think you’d be?” 

you asked Adam one night, your bare bodies entangled in the cotton sheets. He thought for a second.  “fuck, babe. can't you be like any other bitch i've banged and just ask dumb questions?”  you laughed at that, and asked,  “and what kind of questions are those exactly?”  “shit, i dunno.. favorite color? favorite food? dumb stuff that can be asked over and over again, and it’ll be different every time. i mean, my answers never change, but that’s because i’m cool.”  “it’s because you’re a nerd,”  you remarked with a smirk, nuzzling your nose into his neck affectionately. he groaned and rolled his eyes. finally, he answered your question. 

“i’d probably be an eagle, or maybe a peacock. i don't fucking know, just something that looks badass.” 

you honestly should’ve expected such an answer from Adam, but it still made you giggle, even if he wasn’t trying to be funny.  “now you. you can’t just ask me a question without me turning it around on you, babe.”  Adam remarked with a smirk, pressing a (surprisingly) tender kiss to your forehead.  “hm.. i’m not sure, actually. i’ll let you choose one for me.”  “in that case, a bunny.”  “and why a bunny?”  you asked, sitting up to face Adam properly. he had his cheek against his elbow, propped up against his pillow, gazing up at you lovingly. Adam always looked at you like you were his deity.  

“because you’re just.. small. so much smaller than me. and you’re cute, as well. you've got such pretty, innocent eyes, too.”  Adam hummed, sitting up to cup your face, kissing your jaw, then your cheek, his lips lingering as he whispered,  “.. and you’re always so excited when i come around. i want you to be my little bunny forever,”  Adam said. he pulled you close, your chests pressing together, his large, calloused hands from playing the guitar, making their way over your back and shoulders.  “i’m never lettin’ you go, baby. I promise.” 

in the midst of the gentle atmosphere, you nestled into Adam, enjoying his warmth. then you smirked as you said,  “i don’t know, Adam. I can’t see you as something like an eagle or peacock.. maybe a cute little piglet.” 

that made Adam stop dead in his tracks. 

“a fucking pig? why, babe? are you calling me fat?”  he retorted, crossing his arms and pouting like a child. you howled with laughter, trying to calm down to explain yourself. 

“no, no! not at all, Adam! pigs are cute! they’re big and strong, plus they’re loud, they’ve got flair sometimes, and uh..”  you trailed off, but you couldn’t hold in your laughter when you saw how red Adam’s face was. 

“first, Lute calls me a ‘big back’ at work, now-”  “she called you a what?!”  You were nearly crying from how hard you were laughing now, both arms around your belly. All Adam did was cross his arms again, pouting once more.  “A fucking-a ‘big back’, whatever the fuck that means!”  “oh my god... babe, she’s kinda right.”  “you’re so mean!”  Adam wailed. y'know, for someone being as huge in general as Adam, he was the biggest whiner and crybaby you knew. 

“aw, Adam.. you know i didn’t mean any of that, right?”  you said, gently cupping his face to kiss his lips.  “you didn’t..?”  Adam asked weakly. you didn’t mean to genuinely hurt his feelings, so the sight of him being so vulnerable was making your heart ache.  “yes.. i didn’t mean it at all, i promise. i was just joking around.”  “promise?”  "i promise.” 

Adam kissed you, humming as you pulled him closer, allowing you to roll on top of him.  “so.. wanna go again?”  Adam asked you with a smirk. you chuckled and nodded.  “hell yeah. just let me get some water, okay?”  “why not just drink my cum? it’s got way more vitamins than water,”  “.. why did I get with you again?”  "because you fell in love with my face, duh. now c'mere, this 'big back' needs to blow your back out."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

my sweet little snowflake buddies!

@6esiree , @frxstwalker

[djarincore]

The Object of My Desire

SUMMARY: You're a hardworking scholar and the spoiled daughter of a corrupt nobleman.

The mercenary hired for your protection is more than willing to take your father's money, just not your bratty attitude. Luckily, he's got a few ways to deal with spoiled little girls like you.

PAIRING: fighter!price x wizard!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

TAGS: DND!au, porn with some plot, f masturbation, dirty talk, cunnilingus, he bends you over a desk, PIV, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight breath play, creampie, slight jealously, reader gets called a bitch (not by Price but he does call you a brat whoops)

A/N: this is just a silly little idea that popped into my head while I tried learning more about DND! I actually rolled some dice to make some decisions/outcomes and it made the writing experience way more fun 10/10 recommend

Winter’s gray sky cast a torrent of rain against the cobblestone roads and blew frigid winds through the streets of Moongarde. Despite the relentless weather, citizens continued to migrate towards the town's center in attendance for the annual Heroes Feast. 

You clutched your cloak tighter against your chest as you weaved through the crowds of people heading in the opposite direction. There were more important things to deal with than a stupid celebration—like the supposed danger you were in.

Having a father who enjoyed making enemies in high places certainly made your life interesting. Though, the threats on your life were, frankly, a nuisance. You had much better things to do than worry about silly threats from cowardly, old men. But, your father worried; he worried enough to hire a mercenary to guard you. 

You hoped he wasn't old and boring like the last one you chased away. Any guard who succumbed to simple illustory spells like fear weren't worth the gold your father spent. 

Ahead, a hanging sign swung forward in the wind. Carved into the wood was a crow perched on a branch, staring off beyond the borders of its design. The Ivory Crow—a dingy, little establishment you loathed to enter. 

With a grimace, you made your way up the creaking wooden stairs. Already, you could hear rowdy, clamorous songs and bellowing voices seeping through the cracks of its shabby, wooden walls. 

Before you could reach out to push open the swinging doors, they burst open and a man stumbled out, his weight nearly toppling onto you. 

“S’rry ‘bout tha’, m’ss,” he slurred, hiccuping as he ended his sentence. He grabbed onto one of the doors to steady himself, though he still swayed. 

“Move,” you demanded. His body blocked half the entrance and you weren’t interested in squeezing past him. He was covered in stains, presumably sweat and booze from the acrid smell of him. 

He lifted his head towards you, eyes half-lidded. “Hey, don’ tell me wha’ ta do,” he hissed. 

You rolled your eyes and raised a finger towards the man. The familiar warmth of magic pooled at your fingertip and was dispelled when you tapped his forehead.

He crumpled to the ground, eyes closed with his chest still rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. 

You wiped your finger against your velvet cloak and stepped over the unconscious body into the tavern. 

The inside was warmly lit by a large candle chandelier hanging from the tall rafters and more candles decorating tables. No one in the tavern seemed to have noticed your exchange. They were all absorbed in their own ideas of fun. 

A dwarven bard strummed her lute on top of a table, singing an unfamiliar tune and absorbing the adoring applause of drunken patrons who chimed in off-key. Couples, locked in heated embraces, cozied themselves to dimly lit corners of the tavern. 

If it wasn’t singing or lovers, there was plenty of conversation floating through the air to distract from anything outside. 

Your eyes scanned the tavern’s edge, looking for a lone figure at one of the tables. 

The mercenary gave your father instructions for you to find him at the Ivory Crow. Look for a bear on the pommel of his sword, your father had said.

In the far corner of the room, you finally spoted a vaguely familiar figure matching your idea of him, sitting on a stool with his back facing the wall and nursing a pint of ale between his hands. His eyes were downcast as he stared at the overflowing foam sliding down the metal pint. 

He seemed to be the only lone figure in the tavern, everyone else was joined by at least one other companion. 

His attire was shades of muted green and brown, darkened by grime and dirt. A sword tucked in its scabard leaned against the table. The pommel bore the crest of a roaring bear head.

You approached swiftly, maneuvering your way past the overflowing tables filled with patrons and stumbling drunks trying to get to the bar. 

When you reached the mercenary, you stood at the edge of his table. His gaze lifted from his drink to you. Blue eyes met yours.

He wasn't as old as your last guard, and he certainly wasn't as boring to look at. 

There was no surprise on his face as he looked at you, no glimmer of recognition; his stern countenance gave away nothing of his thoughts. His gaze was almost intense, discerning, and calculating.

You broke eye contact first to look down at the round stool opposite him. It had a spot of liquid on the edge that made you grimace. 

All the other surrounding chairs looked occupied. So, you dug through your leather bag and pulled a purple cloth from it. 

You wordlessly conjured up a spectral blue hand and offered up the cloth for it to wipe away the liquid. The hand dried up the liquid and deposited the cloth on the table before vanishing.

The mercenary had crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall to watch you, legs spread wide. Inquisitive eyes followed as you took a seat, back stiff with hands tucked into your cloak, clutching it tighter to your body as if it were shielding you.  

“Ser Jonathan Price, correct?” 

He nodded once and said nothing. 

You fished a hefty pouch from your leather bag and tossed it towards him. The platinum pieces inside rattled as they hit the table. 

His eyes fell to the bag for a moment, then slid back up to you, not attempting to reach for the pouch. 

Maybe he was unimpressed. 

“There's your payment for today—one hundred platinum pieces,” you stated and cleared your throat. “Now, the rules for this arrangement are simple: protect me and stay out of my way.”

You think he understood. He didn't say anything otherwise. There was a slight twitch in your eye when he tilted his head like he was looking at an amusing, little oddity. 

After another moment his arms unfurled and a hand reached out for the pouch. He cradled it in his palm, hefting it for its weight. The coins rattled. When he pushed two fingers into the closed seam and spread it open, you scoffed.

“If you think I'm lying, don't. Your coin is there.” You crossed your arms, in an attempt to be as nonplussed as he was—it was a poor attempt. You couldn't help the frown that stuck to your lips. 

He removed his fingers from the pouch and rapped his knuckles down hard against the wooden table twice, making you flinch and catching the attention of a passing barmaid. 

Their exchange was quick. She turned her head toward him with a bright smile, flirty even as her eyes roamed down his figure. He pointed a finger down at his pint and flicked his wrist up to call for one more. She nodded and flitted back to the bar. 

“Easy enough,” he said when he turned back to you. His voice was smoky, low. Probably caused by too many cigarettes and shouting. He rested his forearms on the table, one hand still gripped around the pouch. “But drop the ser, m’ not a knight.”  

Your brows furrowed. You recalled the description your father gave you of him. A knight who served under the King’s banner for twenty years. “But you’re-” 

“I was,” he interrupted firmly, leaving you with no room to argue. 

Your mouth remained open, wanting to bite back, but when his brow raised slightly at the hint of a challenge, you clenched your jaw. Any attempt to delve further into the topic would only prove futile and a waste of time. 

You took in a deep breath through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “Fine,” you acquiesced. “How do I address you then?”

“John’s good enough for me."

“Okay, John,” you ground out and stood from your seat. “I want to leave before nightfall.” 

He held his hand up, stopping you in your place. “We're not going anywhere yet, love.” 

You bristled at both the nickname and his order. The arrangement was supposed to be the other way around. You give him orders and he follows. 

“Sit, drink—I already bought you a mug.”  

On cue, the barmaid returned to the table with another overflowing pint in her hand and set it down on your side. She wiped her hand down on her apron and looked at John, her charming smile returning. “Anythin’ else I can getcha?”

“No, thank you.” He returned her smile with a grin of his own. He dug into the pouch and pulled out a platinum piece, setting it in her outstretched hand. 

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “This is too much! The drinks are only ten silver!”

You crossed your arms and interjected, “I agree. That's far too much.” 

“Keep it,” he assured, waving her off. 

The barmaid scurried away with an even wider smile than you thought possible. Her hair and skirt bounced as she went. 

With her gone, he turned his attention back to you and gestured back to your stool. “Drink with me.”

The foam dribbling down the sides of the metal pint made you grimace. You didn't drink ale; it wasn't to your taste. You preferred the rich, sweet taste of Evermead. 

But, another part of you was tempted, not by cheap ale. It was the mercenary, the ex-knight, Jonathan Price. Stern to you, yet kind to the barmaid. Silent but still expressive. You felt the tug of curiosity, the desire to learn everything about this stranger and unfold his secrets. 

You sat, watching as he took his ale and the bob of his throat as he drank. 

He set down his drink, now half full, and nodded his head toward your mug. “Don't be shy, love. Go on.” 

Your hand snuck out from your cloak and grasped the handle, cold and slightly sticky. Slowly, to not spill, you lifted the mug and took a sip. Cold liquid slid down your throat. The ale was bitter, watered down, and made your mouth twist with disgust. 

“That bad, eh?” He chuckled. You were alarmed to find his low, raspy chuckle disarming. Surely, the ale hadn't got to your head already.

You set the mug down, pushing it further away with your fingers, and wiped your lips clean of any foam left behind with the back of your hand. “I can't believe you like this.”

“Oh, I don't like this garbage.” He laughed, grabbing his mug once more. His thumb idly ran down the handle, throwing a glance out to the crowded tavern. “Just drinking to pass the time.”

“Surely there are better taverns to drink in.” You glanced around at the rowdy patrons once more. Two men were standing toe to toe at the table across from you, exchanging heated words. 

When he failed to respond, you tried following his eye. It led you to the opposite side of the room toward the barmaid who served you earlier tending to a group of adventurers. She pressed her hip against the table and chatted with them, laughing. 

“So, it’s not the drinks that bring you back,” you muttered to yourself, moving your gaze back to him. 

The small smile that tugged the corner of his lips as he watched her caused a strange feeling to stir in your chest. You clenched your hands together, forcing away the uncomfortable squeeze.

You stood abruptly from your seat, ignoring your chair tipping backwards and hitting the floor. His attention was on you again. The smile was gone.

“We’re going.”

“Haven't finished your drink,” he called as you stormed off. 

You ignored him, pushing straight between the two quarreling men. Your hands pressed hard against both their chests to pry them out of your way. 

The two men stumbled back, caught off guard. 

“Hey!”

“Don't touch me, you little bitch,” the other snarled. His hand shot out to grab your wrist, narrowly latching on. 

His movements were sloppy, most likely from all the ale he'd been drinking. You were quick enough to snatch your hand away before he could restrain you. 

You were beginning to really hate this tavern. 

More patrons were beginning to watch the exchange, sitting back like it was some spectacle. 

But, you saw John rise from his stool. His hand grasping his sword as he approached the men from behind. 

“Let's settle down, gentleman,” he said with a tired sigh.

The man who tried grabbing you turned his attention to John. “Stay outta this,” he hissed, clenching his fists and setting his shoulders back. He was much larger than John, towering at least a head taller.

You didn't want to find out how well a brawl between the two would end. 

“Obtempero."

The spell sliped from your lips and the man stiffend. In that instance, your mind was linked with his as you forcibly erased any free will he had. 

Shut up and sit down, you commanded. 

The room went silent as the man lowered onto his seat. You clenched your jaw when your head began to throb, a sign of him fighting against your control.

“Quickly,” you beckoned to the mercenary. Your control over the man’s mind wouldn't last long and you didn't want to stick around to face his wrath. 

You turned and dashed out the tavern doors, followed closely by John who was laughing to himself. 

“Clearly you can handle yourself. Don't know what you need me for,” he said.

A light rainfall had started, coating you and the streets in water. You raised your hood over your head to shield yourself. 

The street was still bustling with citizens with their umbrellas. A good cover in case the man tried following the two of you.

“I only agreed to a guard to appease father’s worries,” you muttered, sidestepping a pair of children running past you, chasing each other with wooden swords. “But, dealing with pea-brained oafs is easy compared to defending myself from someone with a dagger.”

He only hummed in reply, walking in stride with you up the cobblestone street. The rain was beginning to dampen his hair and clothes, but he didn't seem to mind.

You could feel your concentration on the spell waning the further you got until it snapped. You tensed and reached to grab John’s hand. His fingers wrapped around yours without question.

“We have to-”

“You bitch! I'm gonna tear you apart!”

Your head snapped around to find the man burst from the tavern door with a roar. Your heart jumped. The man almost seemed to burn with fury as he barreled up the street in search of you.

“This way.” 

John tugged your hand and you allowed him to pull you through the street, weaving your way through throngs of people. He pulled you through unfamiliar streets that passed by in a blur before taking a sharp right into an alleyway, tugging you into the shadows. 

Your back was against the stone walls and you heaved a sigh. Your heart raced with adrenaline. This certainly wasn't anything you'd experienced while nose-deep in a book. “Gods, I-”

“Shh,” he hushed, placing a hand over your mouth. 

Your eyes widened. He was looking out towards the street and you realized how close he was standing, nearly pressed against your front. Your hand gripped his wrist; to pry it off or hold him close, you didn't know.

When he deemed the coast clear, his hand fell away.

“Don't do that again,” you said weakly. 

He looked down at you, an amused smile forming. “Understood. Mind giving me my hand back then?”

You didn't realize your grip on his wrist remained. You released him and slipped away. 

“I'll lead us home.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was just setting by the time you returned to the manor. John had followed you silently the whole way. 

“Welcome back, ma'am,” Ann greeted once you entered the foyer. She was a maid you'd known since you were a child. Her warm smile was akin to that of a mother’s, though you'd never call her such. 

“Ann will run you a bath and get you some new clothes.”

She was already moving up the left side of the split staircase to fulfill your request.

“What's wrong with my clothes?” John glanced down at his attire, smoothing his hand down the front of his doublet, now soaked with rain. 

“They're filthy and soaked. Now go.” You used your hand to shoo him off and he followed Ann with a sigh, ascending the stairs. 

You went off to another area of the manor where you could take your own bath and wash away the grime of that tavern.

When the bath was filled and ready, you shed your robes and stepped into the warmth, sighing as the warm water enveloped your body. You ran your hand up your arm, over your neck, and down your collarbone. 

While you washed, your thoughts wandered back to John. A hand slipped down the valley of your breasts and between your thighs. 

There was no question that he was attractive. The mercenary was new and surprisingly exciting—an experiment to toy with. You wanted to win him, have him in the palm of your hand and study what made him tick. 

Your index finger brushed against your clit. The first hum of pleasure bolted through your body. Slow teasing circles were drawn over your clit until you ached for more. Two fingers parted your folds to allow your middle finger to dip in. 

You sunk lower into the water, chin rippling the surface, and let your eyes fall shut to embrace your own touch while imagining it was someone else's. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you slipped out of the bath, satisfied, you redressed into a new robe. The loose low neck reached your abdomen, teasing the inner valley of your breasts. 

As you made your way to your room, you noticed the door was left slightly ajar. When you pushed open the door, you found John standing at your bookshelf, his fingers running down the spine of a tome. 

He was in a fresh set of clothes, loaned from a butler by the looks of it. The untucked, white dress shirt clung to the curves of his muscles, growing taut when he folded his arms. The black pants fit his form enough to show off the thickness of his thighs.

You shut the door and leaned against it, eyeing his form. The ache between your legs was growing again, wanting more than just your fingers this time. 

John turned around at the noise and you could see the buttons of his shirt were halfway done, revealing his toned chest with a smattering of hair. 

“Impressive collection,” he remarked. “I’d expect no less from a wizard.”

“I spent my entire life building this collection,” you replied absently. Your mind was wandering to other things—the veins on his arms, the bulge of his pectorals in the shirt. You were unashamedly staring through lowered eyelids, greedily taking in the sight. 

He was just as interested in your low cut robes. It was obvious in the way his eyes roamed your chest. 

You chose to close the gap until you were beside the bookcase, just a foot away from his side. 

He leaned his shoulder against the shelves and looked at you with a sly smirk. “Trying to charm me?”

Magic would make your game too easy.

Your hand moved to caress his jaw, smoothing over the soft hairs of his beard. He didn't move away, choosing to lean further into your touch. 

“I don't need to,” you hummed. Your fingers clawed up the slope of his neck and into the short strands of damp hair, drawing his face closer. “You're already mine.”

“That so?” His words fluttered along your lips in warm breaths. Strong hands fell to the curves of your waist, smoothing down to your ass and pulling you against his front. 

You felt the growing stiffness of his cock, trapped in his pants, press against your abdomen which only made the throbbing of your cunt worse. Instead of responding, you leaned forward and sealed your lips tightly against his, tasting smoke and bitter ale on his tongue. 

John was quick to respond, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip to get you to open up for him. His grip slid down your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms. 

You rubbed yourself against his bulge, trying to satisfy the need growing inside of you. There was a needy, animalistic frenzy in his low groan, vibrating in his chest. 

He backed you up towards your desk. It was cluttered with more tomes you amassed over the years, threatening to spill at the slightest touch. Your prized spell book, a gift from your father, was also sitting open, flipped to the enchantment spell you used earlier at the tavern. 

John didn't seem to care much for your precious collection as he swiped the books off your desk to make room to set you down. They scattered to the floor.

You pulled away, intent on telling him off. That spell book was one of a kind—

He didn't give you room to argue, much less breathe. His lips were already diving forward to capture yours again, dizzying you, driving any thought out of your head. Your legs spread around his to accommodate his body as he forced your attention back on him.

John’s hands pushed aside the fabric of your robe which easily fell around your waist, exposing your bare breasts to the cool room air. Your hardening nipples rubbed against the coarse fabric of his shirt. 

Your hands roamed his chest in turn, running over the coarse hairs and clawing down his exposed sternum. You worked quickly to unbutton the rest of his shirt and pushed it off his broad shoulders. 

Once revealed, you trailed your eyes over his chest and down to a nasty scar sliced from his upper torso across his stomach. It was old by the scaring. You briefly wondered if it was the reason he was no longer a knight as your hand reached out to brush over it. 

John caught your wrist in an iron grip. When you looked back at his face, his stern expression told you enough to stay silent about it. With your short nod, the tension in the air lifted and he was back to work on you.

Another night then, you thought. You'd unravel his secrets eventually. 

When he released your wrist and pulled away, he moved down to his knees, untying the knot at your waist and pushing aside the rest of the fabric to reveal the rest of your body. With your thighs spread, he could fit his hand between your thighs, feeling the arousal leaking from your cunt. 

“So wet already?” 

His middle finger parted your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, causing your hips to shift forward, but he pulled away before you could feel him any deeper. He got to his knees, grunting as his settled.

Your legs hooked over his shoulders, leaving him face to face with your cunt. His heavy breath fanned over your exposed cunt. 

“What a sight,” he muttered to himself before leaning in to flick his tongue over your clit again and again. 

Your body trembled with static after every stroke of his tongue. Your fingers locked through his brown hair, tugging sharply at the roots. He hissed through his teeth at the sting, but even that didn't stop him. 

His hands gripped your thighs around his shoulders, digging into the soft flesh and then smoothing up until his hands cupped your ass to push you further into his mouth. 

One of your hands rested on the table to give yourself leverage as you rode his face. The hair of his beard burned against your inner thigh.

The pleasure thruming through your veins forced your legs to lock around his head as your orgasm came to its peak. 

“That's it,” he coaxed. “Come in my fuckin’ mouth, love.” 

John kept his mouth on your fluttering cunt, refusing to pull away until he had taken every last drop of your cum. Your hands weakly pulled on his hair, but his fingers dug deeper into your thighs as he forced his head back in. 

“Gods,” you panted, looking down at him between your thighs, devouring you like a starved man. “Fuck me already.” 

“Patience,” he huffed, flicking his tongue languidly over your clit once again. Your body stiffened again. “You think you can take me after one little orgasm?” 

As you clenched around nothing and his tongue continued to take long strokes over your cunt, you rolled your eyes and snapped back, “Don’t be so cocky.”

He rose quickly after your remark, yanking your body off the desk as he went and forcing you around. One of his palms met the back of your neck and pushed you flat against the desk. His cock pressed against your ass. The fabric of his pants were rough against your bare skin. 

“Let-"

His other hand clamped over your mouth and he growled into your ear, “No—no more orders. I'll give you what you want, but don't start cryin’ when it doesn't fit.” 

You ached, wanting to rub your thighs together but his legs were in the way. His hand moved from your mouth to the button of his pants to pull himself free. 

You could feel his thick cock press against your ass. Even without looking, you could tell he was nothing like the other wizards you'd have meaningless flings with in school.  

His cock notched at your entrance and he asked lowly, “Ready, love?” 

The hand over your mouth moved to caress the valley of your knuckles as your hand clasped the edge of the desk. Such an intimate gesture you almost wanted to embrace by turning over your hand and intertwining fingers. 

But, you didn't have time for much thought before he buried himself into you as deep as he could go without resistance. Which was only the tip of his cock.

Your walls clamped around him, refusing to let him bully his way deeper. You whimpered, white-knuckling the desk, and shut your eyes. Gods, he was too thick. 

“Shh,” he cooed in your ear. His fingers slid across your temple and into your hair, keeping your head against the desk. “You wanted this, right? You can take more.”

And he did give you more—and more, and more. Your clawed at the desk, welled up tears spilling down the side of your face, as he stretched you around his cock. You didn't breathe, not until his hips met your ass and you were completely filled to the brim. 

You gasped, filling your lungs with air. The edge of the desk pressing against your abdomen allowed you to feel him deeper. 

He grunted as you clenched around his length. “So fuckin’ tight,” he muttered to himself as he slowly rocked into your fluttering heat. 

The friction wasn't enough for you. As always, you wanted more. You wanted to be fucked, ravished, devoured completely and thrown into a sickening rapture. 

“More,” you moaned as his cocked dragged against your walls. You were needy and hungry for him to take you harder. 

“Does a brat like you even know how to say please?” He slipped out of you completely instead. 

You whined in protest, moving your hips back to fill the empty ache he left behind. His hands moved to grip your waist, holding you in place. “No, don't.”

“Too good to beg for it?” His fingers prodded at your entrance before he slipped two inside. They weren't comparable to his cock though—not as thick, not as full. “Come on my fingers then.”

His fingers curled against the sensitive spongey spot inside of you.

“F-Fuck you,” you ground out between your teeth, biting back a moan. 

“That’s not what I asked for.” His voice was stern; there was no room for arguments, no room for demands other than his own. 

You bit your lip. You weren't the one who was supposed to be begging—he was. Having John wrapped around your finger, desperate to please you like everyone else, was the end goal. But this? 

Strong, commanding, taking what he wants—that was who John was. And even you couldn't help but relent to that dominance. 

“Please.”

“Speak up, love.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

Bastard. 

“Please,” you repeated with a little more desperation than intended.

“Good girl,” he praised. His fingers slipped from you, pulling a string of your arousal with them, and he licked them clean. With his hands back on your hips, he lined up his cock and thrust back into you. 

Your mouth hung open as your back arched into the desk. The pace he set was relentless. It rocked your desk, sending any books and papers left on it to the floor. But you didn't care anymore, not when he found that perfect spot inside you again and again. Your toes curled as warmth pooled in your stomach and your core tightened. 

A hand wrapped around your neck once again, wrenching your back against his chest and forcing your head to the side. The sweat of your bodies melded you together. John’s fingers pressed on your throat with enough pressure to make you see stars. His gruff pants burst along the shell of your ear. His lips grazed the back of your neck as another hand moved to toy with your clit. 

You cursed as your body seized up and you came around him. You held onto the arm pressed against your chest as you rode out your orgasm. 

With a few more sharp thrusts, he spilled inside of you, flooding you with warmth. As you caught your breaths, he cupped your jaw and turned your head towards his to pull you into a searing kiss, still full of passion just like the first. 

You were almost boneless, sinking into the kiss and his arms. “Bed,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder when he released your jaw. “Now.”

John clicked his tongue as he slid out of you. A mix of your arousal begin to leak down your leg. You flinched when his hand cupped your sex to stop anymore from escaping. 

The action felt more possessive than anything else—something you weren't used to. Interest stirred in you once again. 

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hazbin Hotel Headcanons (NSFW)

Confessing to a FWB that they caught feelings and want something more, and the FWB rejecting them and saying they dont feel the same way TW: AFAB Reader, 18+ MDNI, ANGST, Verbal Assult, Emotional Abuse

Adam

When you two first started hooking up, it was right after Eve left Adam, and you had lost your long-time partner to another angel.

It was a win-win. You both could hate fuck the old emotions out of yourselves till everything was fine again.

Sometimes, you two would go on 'dates,' but they were always precursors to what would come later that night.

You wouldn't lie. The dick was divine, and Adam was great at making you scream and cum in ways your ex never did. However, it was just that sex, nothing more.

Till it was more, and you knew you were fucked. Adam would choose specific food he knew you liked, or please you extra in bed by eating you out longer, or even he would stay a bit later and cuddle for an hour after sex.

You saw these as clear signs that he wanted more than just Freinds with Benefits, so you were reasonably hurt when you saw him flirting with Lute and feeling her up.

Was he doing all this for you just to make you feel okay while he was all up touching another woman? Were you even unique to him anymore, or had your pussy not been good enough.

That next night while you two fucked he could tell you weren't in it like you used to be and asked what was wrong. That is when everything went downhill.

"Bitch I am not into you like that; I will fuck who I want when I want. What the fuck do you mean I was treating you nicely? I just wanted good pussy."

You were heartbroken, not only were you destroyed by your ex but now Adam was destroyign you again.

"We are nothing more than fuck buddies. If you can't get that through your skull, you are no better than the bitches I fuck beside you."

Hearing he fucked others behind your back was painful, you had been souly fucking him but he kept true to his word sleeping with many others.

Alastor

He only wanted sex when it benefited his animalistic urges, and you wanted sex to get over someone. Pretty much a good way to establish a powerful allyship.

Alastor had the joy of no one seeing him weak, while you had the pleasure of fucking yourself silly to forget the pain an ex caused you.

The only downside was that Alastor was obscenely nice in bed, probably stemming from his upbringing, but it made you care more than you wanted to.

He was rough when you needed him to be, but he had these really soft sweet moments where he would hold you close and fuck you gently.

Eventually, what was a sound deal of him fucking you to relieve stress and you to relieve pain became you needing him like a fish needs water.

You tried to play it cool and see if he might be interested in something more. He took care of you after sex and cleaned you up, brought you food, and held you till you passed out.

You knew only of lovers doing that, not whatever you classified yourselves as.

One night, you finally found the courage to discuss it, and boy, you should've kept all your thoughts to yourself.

"I find it obsured you even remotely think this is possible, I fuck you out of necessity to keep face not because there is any feelings for you."

You could only sit there, wide eyes and mouth hung open as he yelled at you for stupidity.

"I already hate fucking you I think it is repulsive this primal need to mate and be with something, I don't even consider us friends."

That one stung the worst, you thought at least even if this conversation went to shit you could still be friends but hell that's even out the window.

As soon as he said his peace, he stormed off to god knows where. When you went looking for him to apologize, you heard it outside his door, the moans and begs of another.

He found someone else to complete his deal, and that someone was no longer you anymore.

Lucifer

He was a desperate and lonely man after Lilith, and you were a desperate good-looking sinner that didn't want to fall into Valentino's hands or be killed for not screwing someone.

It was an easy deal. He would fuck you to get over Lilith, and you would be safe from danger while here in hell.

Lucifer, though, was a lover, even if he was just fucking to forget, and you couldn't lie. You were attached.

You had many conversations and open communication about how this will never go anywhere and that when he was ready for a partner, it wouldn't be you solely because of the whole using your sex for healing thing.

You held on to hope, though, that time and chemicals from sex would change things.

One particular night you thought you had struck gold as Lucifer held you closer after a long passionate fuck session. Instead of chasing you out, he kept you beside him and even let you sleep in his room for a week.

However, you shouldn't have been so naive and shouldn't have opened your mouth and lost your protection.

"I told you I will not stay with you; you are a toy to help me get over my ex-wife. Why would I love a sinner like you where there are thousands to choose from."

You held your arms close to your body as you cried. All you wanted to know was if there was indeed no chance, and this must have been the straw that broke the camel's back as it lashed out at you.

"I will never love you; you are not something to be loved. You are simply a toy, that is all. I protect you so I can feel better about myself, nothing more, nothing less."

The fight was long and primarily grueling, and he said hateful and hurtful things from his hurt place. This leads you to believe that you should have never done this and just worked for Valentino.

Husk

When Angel was released from Valentino, Husk and Angel planned to fight for his freedom from Alastor. However, Angel had other plans for his freedom, leaving Husk high and dry.

You had just become a new soul of Alastors, and Husk was your guide through all the fucked up horrors that were Alastor and his shitty contracts.

With that said, there were many nights where you and Husk would end up drunk and between the sheets dancing through the moonlight.

It was a silent agreement that you two would do this once a week to ease the tension and pain of being under Alastors' thumb. However, it also became hard for you to understand your own feelings.

One day, Husk was worshiping you; the next day, he made you feel used and like a toy. Yet, one week, he treated you like royalty in every session you two had.

You almost thought he had a change of heart about your relationship, just like you had months prior, and that excited you to feel loved and no longer lonely.

However, when you broached the topic, you didn't expect the thrown glass bottles and the yelling that followed —enough yelling that Alastor and his other souls were alerted to watch you crumble.

"You really think I give two shits about you, kid? You are just a desperate nutcase who, like everyone else, fell for the radio demons' stupid tricks."

You held your breath and tried to ignore the laugh tracks and claps from the radio demon watching Husk berate you for your sex life.

"You are nothing more than a cheap discount whore; at least Angel was fucking wanted by someone other than a washed-up alcoholic."

You didn't know what to say. You wanted to fight back, but everything hurt, so you just ran—it's all you could do. Things had been tense for a long time, and Alastor used that to his advantage to torment you both.

Vox

All he had wanted was Alastor; every time he could get close, it was like walking five steps backward. You were the closest he could get to the radio demon without getting burned.

You were born and killed in the same period, though instead of having deer or doe-like characteristics, you had a bear motif.

Shy, timid, and easily malleable, Vox quickly seduced you to use you to his advantage.

The nights would be long and passionate or brutal and rough, depending on what Alastor did that day to piss the man off.

You knew your place, that you were just a replacement Alastor and a knockoff made to please Vox when he was too overwhelmed to discuss his issues with Val.

When things began to shift, though, and Vox started to target Charlie over Alastor, you had hope. Vox was sensual and sweet in bed, showing his faithful, fifties husband's lifestyle.

He was almost domestic with you, tenderly touching you, hugging you from behind, helping you cook meals.

However, you allowed a false sense of security to overtake you and lull you into believing that he would love you as you had grown to love him.

"You are worthless, have no powers, and are barely above a speck of dirt. What makes you think I will or would ever love you? I already have Val and Vel. I just use you to get my fill when they can't scratch my itch."

You should have know this was where it was going, it was only fairytale dreams where the contract owner loved the contracted. You kept your head down, allowing the assault to continue.

"You would be better off dying in the next extermination so I could have more useful information about the angels than living here next to me saying this idiotic bullshit."

You tried not to let his words hurt you, but you knew you loved him and that this would only hurt you more and more the longer you held on.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

[jadeddangel]

Maybe adamx reader x lute smut headcanons?

I think I already have one for it buttttttt I think I'll do this one too

Adam x reader x Lute

Smut headcannons for Lute and Adam

Definitely mean dom!Lute

Adam is pretty much just a cuck most of the time, or he likes to fuck your throat while lute is holding your back into an arch

Adam is big on Anal when he is fucking you though

WING PLAY MUST I SAY MORE

when it comes down to Adam he really likes when other people watch, or when you get caught

Toys, Lute buys vibrators that she can use on you even when you are both apart, so she can still have her fun until you both are together again

Both are up for expirementing and depending on the person they may be willing to bring another person in if it'll please you

Lute can be a bit silly at times when you guys are having sex but she'd mostly pretty mean

Lute really struggles to give up control, so if she does give yourself a pat on the back

Adam, on the other hand, doesn't care as long as his dick gets wet

Lutes favorite position would probably be something in front of a mirror

Lute lovessss fucking you from behind but also loves to see your.face so that's why she loves mirrors so much

Adam has a breeding kink and no one can tell me I'm wrong, that shit came pre-programmed in his brain

Both are very cuddly after your session, so it often ends up with you or Adam in the middle and wrapped in the other partners' wings

Lute really likes humiliation, she'll borderline be into pet play too

And before the "ewww doesn't that mean reader is a furry" stfu, disrespectfully

Lute is interested on pet play for the humiliation piece, seeing you underneath her on all fours in a collar and a leash just really gets her going

Lute probably steps on you (part of the humiliation)

Lute got you to bark for her once and never once let you live it down, even though she mildly liked having that much control over you

As much as Adam is a cuck, he does like to be included, the simple things like hearing you moan his name while Lute was fucking you within an inch of your life with her strap.

Adam asks you to spit on his hand to use it as lube for himself because he's "not fond" of how lube feels

Adam refuses to wear condoms, period. Insisting they wouldn't fit him anyways since he's too "perfect" for them

Lute has a crying kink, and only specifically during sex, she loves overstimulating you to the point of tears of pleasure just because of her

Adam and Lute may not interact much when your having sex, especially when they focus is on you

But they only do that cause they wanna avoid jealousy like how it is in Adam's harem because they would hate for you to feel left out

However, if you ask them both outright and say that you want to watch or want the attention on them, they'll really try to still keep it like you were included

When you're not there however Adam and Lute are at it like rabbits and can barely keep their hands off the other

After all, Lute was Adam's favorite in the harem for a reason

[glorismorningstar]

THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: Lute x f!reader, Carmilla Carmine x f! situationship!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader

Summary: Now that Alastor's back, Y/N joins him at the Overlord meeting, where more information about the recent extermination is revealed. Later, her relationship with Carmilla has an interesting development.

Warnings: WLW, casual relationship, unrequited love, pain, heartbreak, lesbian smut (cw - fingering, oral, mommy kink, strap on, tail pulling), angst, violence, death, homophobia

A/N: I apologise in advance for everything, this part was so deep and interesting to write, contains a lot of character development and each part will contain more drama than the last *cough* episode 6 *cough cough*

| PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"How much higher do you want it?" I ask as my tail wraps around the side of the ladder for balance, hands holding up the banner we made together.

"A little bit more... there,” Charlie says and got up from the other side of the ladder to hammer it down as Vaggie holds the ladder still. "That looks perfect! Aah! I'm so excited that Sir Pentious is staying at the hotel!"

"Um, Pentious was just trying to take over the city with his weird steampunk bullshit a few days ago." Vaggie points out.

"Well, I haven't seen him try any of that in here." Just as Charlie finishes the sentence, Pentious comes in with his Egg Bois, wheeling in something that looks like a cannon, but... fancier. Huh.

"What the Hell is that?”

"Oh, hello, purple female. It's my new invention, the SkinFlayer 11.000!" He hisses proudly, tipping his hat as the eggs chase each other around the room. One of them begins climbing up my tail and I yelp, then chuckled quietly and let him play with the fluffy tuft, swishing it from side to side. “I'm really looking forward to shooting the other residents."

"What? Why?"

"Everyone is being too nice. Obviously it must be a lie. I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when? How? I must be prepared!" Ah, yeah, trust issues. That's a bitch. Been there, currently doing it. “Ooh, the new parts of my machine are here."

I turn to look at the doorway and beam, it was Clara and Odette, Carmilla's daughters. But as expected, they're delivering weapons to Pentious.

Damn it.

"Y/N!"

"Hello, girls." I smile and trot over to give each of them a hug. I look at the weapons and at Pentious before directing my gaze back to them with a nervous chuckle, “What's going on here?"

"We got a delivery at the Hazbin Hotel. We assumed you'd know something about it." Clara speaks as she unloads the boxes, while Odette asks for the signature. I run a hand over my face and sigh, this is exactly what I was supposed to stop from happening.

"Yeah, so did I." I sigh, burying a hand in my mane and looking at Vaggie with an apologetic grimace.

"Thank you for your business. Enjoy your Carmine purchase."

"Carmine? As in Carmilla Carmine? You're buying parts from an Overlord?"

"So, Y/N, are you coming to the meeting today?" Clara asks me. Since Alastor is back, I don't know how much he'd need my help, but then again, I wouldn't mind. It's not like I have a lot to do right now anyway.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I am. Tell your mother I said hi."

As soon as they leave, I redirect my attention to the Egg Bois playing with my tail. Apparently some others joined in while I was talking to Carmilla's daughters and began following me everywhere. I giggle and wag my tail for them to chase, leaping around the room and being extra careful not to squish them. One of them catches my tail and I smile, swishing it to curl around my hip so that I can look at the Egg properly. "Hello, little one. Do you have a name?”

"It's Frank, ma'am." The little creature says in a silly, goofy voice, which makes me giggle and shake his hand with my finger.

"My name is Y/N.” I introduce myself with a smile, eyes sparkling with cuteness overload when he grabs my finger.

"Hello, Y/N!"

"You absolutely cannot build weapons in this Hotel. No one wants to kill you. People are being nice to you because they want you to feel welcome!" Vaggie lectures with a raised finger. She gives off mom energy, I bet she and Charlie would make great parents one day.

Both Sir Pentious and I turn to look at the other members of the group: Husk is chugging on a bottle of booze in the bar and peeks at the serpent, then extends his middle finger; Angel Dust does the same, and Nifty stops her dusting to look in our direction with a creepy look that terrifies me to my very soul. And don't get me started on Alastor.

"Mhm, I have my doubts." Pentious hisses.

"Well, it's true. You have to trust us." Trust is a tricky thing. It's not easy to do so again after misplacing it so many times. Surprisingly, the one that taught me that was Sera. She first betrayed my trust when she agreed to punish Lucifer; she's the one in charge, the one that's supposed to preach forgiveness and generosity, yet she destroyed the life of a man that grew up with me - with us. The second time was when she approved the extermination. She'd be willing to murder human souls, men, women, children, all in an attempt to protect us? From what? And worse, she's the reason Lute puts herself in such danger by coming down here every year.

I don't know why I hide from her every extermination day. To be fair, I'm hiding

from them, not her. Adam, that frat boy of a commander, Celeste, that coward that resorted to homophobia when her tiny peanut brain couldn't come up with a comeback, and of course, all of her posse that tore my wings off and threw me down here... ugh, stop. I don't even have the courage to face my girlfriend now. She's an exorcist angel, she murders the damned for a living. What would she think of me if the sweet, (somewhat) well behaved girl she fell in love with became... this? A sinner.

I think that's why I never contacted Lucifer or Vaggie when I first got here. Lucifer is my childhood best friend, my partner-in-crime, and when he fell, I was far beyond devastated. I didn't know what I'd do without him, he's almost like my brother. We'd sneak out of the palace past curfew and get in trouble all the time. I tried everything to keep him from falling and I failed. I just don't think I'd have the courage to face him. And it's the same with Vaggie. We used to be friends when she first joined the army and got pretty close, and then I lost her, too. I ended up coming in contact with her when Alastor dragged me here, but I was still scared to death.

"Hey, Y/N, are you joining us for trust exercises today?" Charlie asks with a grin and slings an arm around my shoulder, which brings a smile to my face. She's Lucifer's daughter. My dearest friend's daughter. I'm so proud of her.

"As much as I'd like to solve my trust issues, I have a meeting to attend, dear.” I reply and ruffle her hair affectionately, chuckling softly and fixing my black and purple bow tie before walking upstairs to go get Alastor and leave.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Rosie and the other Overlords are already there when Alastor, Zestial and I get to the meeting room. The first thing I do is lock eyes with Carmilla: there she stands, at the head of the table and with her daughters on either side of her. She flashes me a small smile from across the room, which I reciprocate and also give her a small wave. She chuckles quietly and returns the gesture, the affectionate glint in her eyes making my cheeks go pink as my ears pin back against my head in shyness. I smile at her once more before looking for a seat. I was hoping to sit next to Alastor, as usual, but he and Rosie must have lots of catching up to do, so I leave them be and opt for the other side of the table. The first chairs next to the head of the table are her daughters’, so I leave Clara her seat and begin to pull out the chair beside her. That's when I feel a big hand on my shoulder and immediately recognize it as Carmilla, her touches always feel like a wider than usual span of warmth. My ears perk up at the contact and at the sound of her angelic steel ballet slippers clicking on the floor and I smile at her once again. The Overlord rests her other hand on a fancier chair to the right of her own spot and offers, “You can sit here if you want.”

There are only two chairs like these in the room, one on either side of her. The left one is normally occupied by Zestial, with whom she's really close, and she's offering me the other seat. Me. She wants me to sit with her and her family. My heart swells and my pupils soften even further, now looking like the sweetest kitten ever. “Really?”

“Mhm. Come, corazón, we're about to begin.” She replies quietly and gently pulls me along, letting me sit on the chair beside her as she prepares to start the meeting. While our situationship isn't some big secret, she doesn't like public displays of affection very much. She says she's afraid of making me a target and wants to protect me - the irony of my secret draws out bitterness from me. Regardless, her habit of calling me by my term of endearment in her native language fails to falter, which is why she kept her voice down while talking to me.

“Welcome, Hell sovereign Overlords.” Carmilla begins as I take my seat, silencing the quiet chatter of the other Overlords. The soft and familiar metal clicking of her ballet slippers soothes me, my ears twitching towards the sound each time she takes a step. “I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together, you own millions of souls.”

I watch her with a relatively neutral expression from beside her, curious eyes veiling the silent admiration underneath. I don't know what's wrong with me sometimes, she's wonderful. I've struggled to connect with her in the past outside of sexual encounters, and I have no idea why. It's not even her issue, it's mine. I'd never want a relationship that's just physical, it's outside of my comfort zone… but then again, so is being with someone like this. Physical, yes, but the emotional side of our relationship is just hard for me. I guess I was so convinced I'd spend eternity with Lute for more than thirty years that I struggle with the fact that it won't come true. I know that the other day she was about to ask me to be her girlfriend before we got interrupted, but subconsciously, a part of me was almost… relieved she didn't? Ugh, what is wrong with me?

“Alastor?” The call of his name snaps me out of my train of thought, attention shifting to my father figure as my ears perk up once again. I don't have parents. My father is technically God because he created me, but I've never met him, and while Sera raised me and was sort of a maternal figure to me, she's my older sister - with whom I have numerous issues - I was never able to make that strong of a bond with her as I did with Emily. So I guess that's why I'm so attached to Alastor and Rosie.

“Yes, I know, I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering.” He replies and I roll my eyes with fondness. I know for sure he was trying to look mysterious by planting Carmilla the opportunity to ask questions only to give her a vague answer. The poor dear.

“Not really. But welcome back in any case.” The small angry radio noises almost draw a snicker from me. He looks so annoyed right now. Poor guy, she could have humored him, at least. 

With a snap of her fingers, Odette hands her a clipboard and she turns on the presentation as Carmilla keeps speaking. “This year's extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost. With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we-”

I jump in my seat for a split second when the door slams open and I roll my eyes at the obnoxious, thickly accented voice chattering on the phone, suppressing an annoyed growl. 

Oh, fuck me.

It's Velvette. She appears to be on the phone with one of her dear, dear colleagues - who are technically supposed to be here, for the record. “I've got it handled, Vox. Are you doubting me? Really? Me? That's what I thought.”

I hate to say it, but out of the three Vees, she's the most responsible. No, less worse would be a better suited definition. Between a porn director, the host of a video podcast that brainwashes people into doing his bidding and a fun-sized influencer, I guess I'd have to go with the latter. But that doesn't make her any less annoying. “Yes, I know. They're all a joke.”

The annoyance and contempt on the three Carmines’ faces is mirrored in my own as well as Zestial's. My ears pin back against my head at the insult, not for myself, but for the others. She's like a fussy child. And Carmilla less than deserves this bullshit at her own meeting. “Thank you, V. See you soon. Kisses, darling.”

I smell lesbian.

“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your… colleagues be joining?” The sincerity in her tone is completely lost and with reason. I can sense it in the way she emphasizes the word colleagues and how the deprecation she feels is written all over her face, regardless of how much she tries to appear professional.

Oh, say no, say no, say no…

“No. They have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent.” And so it begins. While Carmilla only narrows her eyes at the jab, I'm not that graceful when my loved ones are offended. My ears draw back and my tail sways behind me as I bare my teeth, pupils slitting while a soft growl rumbles from my throat. It's barely noticeable, but not to someone right beside me. 

“Charming.” She mutters as she turns around, taking advantage of the fact that the table is tall enough to conceal her hands and brushing the back of her fingers along my arm in a gentle, soothing caress, which brings a flutter to my stomach as my posture relaxes. My ears and tail return to their usual position and my pupils soften once again, but the protective pout on my lips remains. No one fucks with my loved ones.

“So, as I was saying, we need to discuss-” Carmilla begins once again, but is interrupted by Velvette waving her hand once again. Ugh. “Yes?”

“On the subject of discussion…” she begins, then pulls something from out of nowhere and throws it on the table, golden splashes splattering on the surface.

It's an exorcist's head.

While a collective gasp rises from the group, a shuddering exhale falls from my parted lips as my eyes land on the severed head of the angel, ears drooping and eyes wide with terror. Exorcists… they can die? Oh, no, no, no, no… what about Lute? Is she safe? Who did this? How did they do this? 

Wait, I know that mask. 

She was a member of Celeste's posse.

One of Celeste's buddies was murdered? 

I remember them. Celeste is a sergeant in the exorcist army, above the other soldiers but below Lute. The rest of her posse is only made of soldiers and they're all kinds of trouble, but one of their worst faults is homophobia. 

“Do you take medicine for homosexuality?” 

“What kind of a Seraph are you, tempted by something so unholy?”

“You and Lute have been getting really close lately.”

“It's just some trend, it's not real. You're just pretending.”

“I wonder what you call the lieutenant when you're alone…” 

The very thought makes my skin crawl. One time, Lute started a fight with them because they wouldn't stop insulting me. Luckily, Adam was smart enough to break it up, which I only think he did because Lute was involved, otherwise he would have been thrilled. Lute ended up with a broken wing while Celeste had multiple bruises and a broken nose. No one had ever defended me that fiercely before.

“Where did you get this?” Carmilla isn't nearly as appalled as I thought she would be. She looks somewhere between surprised and frustrated, yet at the same time neither. I can't tell what she's thinking right now, what she's doing. Her posture looks more tense than before, her eyes narrowed and her white irises smaller, more slitted. Her daughters appear far more surprised, but not as much as I expected two young adults to be either. Did I miss something?

“We found it during extermination day. If these holy rollers can be killed, the game has changed. We can take the fight to them.” Absolutely not. Declaring war on the Heavens is about the dumbest idea I can possibly think of, not only because I want to protect my family and loved ones, but because this happened once before, and it's the reason the extermination even exists. Well, that and that man child Adam and Sera with her power and her lack of moral compass. “The boys and I have come up with a full assault plan-”

Her suggestions are interrupted by Zestial and his aggressive slurping on that cup of tea. The sound, annoying but not as much as Velvette's voice, drags on for a few seconds as the room falls silent. The Overlord then puts the cup down on the saucer and interweaves his hands together, then speaks, “If it be true thee and thy colleagues desire to war with such meager proof, thou art far more foolish than I be thought.”

“Meager proof? It's a dead fucking exorcist. I'd say that's pretty fucking definitive.” She scoffs. It's good to see that Zestial and I are on the same page, all I need to do is get the others on our side, too. “You going blind, old man?”

“We know not how this perished, mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing, mightn't they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?” 

“I agree with Zestial. If I recall correctly, the very reason the Heavens approved the yearly exorcism is to punish the population of Hell for attempting a coup d'etat. This can only make things worse.” 

The soft muttering of agreement that rises from the room is my greatest victory of the day. I think of Sera and what loads she bears on her own, regardless of how angry I am at her, I think of young, naive little Emily and how she still thinks that Heaven is perfect, I think of Lute and her safety and her happiness, despite believing that she's probably already moved on. I wouldn't blame her if she has, it's been twenty seven years, but her wellbeing will always be my priority.

My eyes flicker to Carmilla and now I'm sure something's up. She hasn't pitched in with any opinion on this, she didn't look shaken in the slightest when the other Overlord revealed the severed head, and now she looks like she's hiding something. Her eyes are squinted and she's looking to the side with a small pout on her lips, likely lost in her thoughts. Is there a secret afoot? When she meets my gaze, I look at her with soft, gentle eyes and make a soft quizzical noise just loud enough for her to hear, something between a grunt and a purr. What surprises me most, however, is how a flash of guilt appears in her eyes before she schools her expression once again and adverts her eyes from me. It was her, wasn't she? I'm not angry at her for killing the angel, because I'm sure she has a reasonable explanation for that. She's not the type to act on impulse or violence unless it's a last resort. But it just bothers me a bit that she didn't talk to me about this - not that I'm in a position to judge, anyway - but I was hoping she'd trust me with something like this.

My eyes flit back to Velvette just in time to notice the look on her face when she sees Carmilla acting odd, and that's exactly what makes me tense up with protectivity again. “Oh, I get it. So grandpa and the scaredy cat are too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?”

Then she gets up in Zestial's face to attack him, which annoys me even further. And why does she have to step on the table? She might be small, but that's so rude. “What's the matter, fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for-”

♪ You better show some respect 

Check your behavior 

No one speaks to Zestial that way ♪

Whoa. 

Carmilla has never snapped once in the entire time I've known her. I'd say it's not a good look on her but I'd be completely lying if I did, because she looks so unbelievably attractive. Oh, my God, how did I ever pull a woman like her? She's just so… ugh. She's strong and dominant and gorgeous. I want to fling myself into the sun right now and I'm pretty sure I'm blushing. I'm having a lesbian panic in the middle of the most serious meeting of my life and the small familiar tingle between my legs isn't helping much either. Okay, this is not good. Alright, do something normal. I cross my legs to shift my position while trying to soothe some of the heat between my thighs by subtly squeezing them together, then rub my jaw with my hand to cover up the soft pink color rushing to my cheeks.

♪ Did you expect us

To sit back and take your 

Insolent, brazen display? ♪

I don't even pretend I'm paying attention to what Velvette is saying, because why would I listen to some British chippy when I can daydream about my girlfriend? The way she defends me and Zestial makes her look so hot. She has that determined pout and that protective glare in her scarlet eyes… I swear that sometimes it's like she doesn't even know how gorgeous she is. Somehow, our first kiss comes to mind.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

This meeting was longer than expected. I've been sitting in this chair for almost two hours and my ass is square. I get up and lean back against the back support of the chair, my vertebrae cracking with a satisfying pop. I hear her soft chuckle and my ears perk up at the sound, so gentle and brief yet meaningful to my ears. The other Overlords already left, it's just the two of us and I have to put my paperwork in order because it was a little disorganized today. “Do you need help with that?”

“Oh, no, that's okay. Don't trouble yourself.” I say with a casual wave of the hand and a small smile, endeared by her kindness. She's sweet, I like that. 

“Ah, it's no trouble.” Carmilla replies, moving to stand beside me as she joins me in fumbling with the messy paper sheets. She's pretty close to me, and she's actually like eight feet tall which is so hot and only serves to thicken the tension simmering between us. My ears go flat against my head every time my tiny hands brush against her bigger ones and sparks shoot up my body and heart. I haven't felt like this in a long, long while. It's almost been thirty years, yet I'm still grieving a life I'm never going to have with a woman I'm never going to see again. I've dated Lute for so long, long enough to still own the engagement ring I bought her before I fell. It's damn time I move on, I bet she already has years ago.

“Here.” My thoughts are interrupted when she hands me half the handful of papers. Oh, thank god. 

“Oh- thank you.” I reply and smile softly at her, tail wagging behind me as I take the papers and rest them atop the other half of the pile. The silence is almost deafening, begging to be broken as our eyes meet once again. The glow of her ruby sclerae has me entranced for a few moment, my own pupils dilating with awe and attraction as my ears pin back against my head once again. She looks so pretty right now.

I swallow thickly and clear my throat, wussing out as I scratch the back of my neck and point to the doorway and take a few nervous steps forward, “I should- um-” For fuck's sake, why don't I want to be with her? What's wrong with me? I know I'm sexually attracted to her, but it can't be just that, can it? I'm incapable of having purely physical relationships. I do feel affection for her, I genuinely do, but it's not as… strong as I would have hoped. Even so, this is the most attracted I've been to someone in the last twenty-seven years. I hear the metal clinking of her shoes and her hand around my wrist stops me. “Y/N, hang on.” 

“Hmm?”

“Would it…” she begins, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts. The fact that she might have doubts, too, comforts me greatly. It doesn't have to be a serious thing so fast, right? “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

She's asking me for consent. That makes my stomach flutter with butterflies. I look up at her with puppy eyes and nod, ears drawing back in fluster. “Yeah. Yeah, it would.”

In account of our height difference, I get on my tip toes and she tilts her head down, hand cupping my face before she gently locks lips with me. The kiss is soft, tentative, and I can sense she hasn't done this in a while either. Since she has two daughters and a company, she probably doesn't have much time for a relationship, which is cool because to be honest, casual is the best I can do right now. My tail swishes up to rest on her waist and I feel the shiver that runs up her spine when the fluffy brown tuft brushes against her lower back. When we pull back, our cheeks are flushed and her eyes are still closed for a second longer than mine. “That was nice.”

“Yeah… it was.” 

There's a moment of pause where we're just looking in each other's eyes, and then in a split second, like magnets attracting each other with unbelievable force, we lunge at each other until our lips collide, this time more aggressively as our tongues slide against each other and a few soft noises escape both of us. 

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♪ You and the Vees are inane and uninformed 

Smug wannabes who don't need when you've been warned ♪

Her voice pulls me from my thoughts once again and my focus zeroes back in on the meeting, ears once again pulling back at how beautiful she looks. I love how the black and white strands of hair flop and curl over her forehead like that. It looks so cute.

♪ Oops, did I strike a nerve? 

‘Cause when I brought out the angel's head

Couldn't help but observe

That your wrinkled face was turning red ♪

The way Velvette keeps attacking Carmilla like that makes my blood boil. Does she have any idea what kind of allegation this is - regardless of whether or not it's true? It's really grave to accuse someone of murdering an angel, and an Overlord no less. I hate the way she's getting under her skin. I see how her teeth are gritted and her nails dig into the table, the way her glare is piercing and frustrated, how her body almost twitches. It makes my ears droop with sadness, yet they pull back immediately when Velvette starts getting closer. My posture tenses and my tail stiffens with each step forward she takes, teeth baring as well as my pupils slit once again.

♪ And why are you avoiding war? 

That's what the guns you sell are for

Thanks to my being respectless 

One thing I'm starting to suspect is

You know why this angel's headless

Do you have a disclosure? ♪

♪ This meeting's over! ♪

While the two are standing nose to nose, the rest of the Overlords and I are just giving dead stares and grimaces, the pause giving way to an awkward silence as my eyes seem unable to break off from Carmilla, who has genuinely never looked so hot before. Okay, stop it. Not the time. “Hmm, fine. Safe travel back to the nursing home, fuckers. Kiss my ass.”

“What the hell? We literally just got here.”

“Mother?” Odette utters softly, and Carmilla gestures for us to follow her in response. 

The three of us follow her to her office and the girls sit on the two chairs in front of her desk while I lean against the wall beside the windows and the coffee table, watching with a small frown as Carmilla mutters something in Spanish and pours herself a drink, but then ends up drinking from the bottle. I rest a hand on her arm and look at her with big puppy eyes, noticing how she seems to relax a bit under my touch, and a weak smile appears on her face. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She replies softly and caresses my cheek with her hand for a second before letting it drop to her side, but we both know that she's not fine. As a rattling sound that we recognize as Zestial makes us turn our heads to the door, watching him come into the room. 

“Carmilla, what troubles thou? Losing thy composure is unlike thee.” 

“It's nothing, Zestial, really.” 

“The felled angel… t'was by thy hand, was it not?”

“Let's not talk about it.” I'm looking at her intently enough to see the same flicker of guilt that passed through her eyes when it was brought up in the meeting and I wordlessly questioned her about it. Whether it's guilt for murdering a soul or keeping this from Zestial and I, I'm not sure, but I don't get why she'd keep this to herself. She could have told me, I would have helped her.

“Mom… maybe they should know.” Clara says gently, which makes my ears twitch in her direction. The three of them know what happened, but we don't.

“Nobody should know!” Carmilla says, slamming her palms on the desk and taking her seat. Whatever happened, it sounds like it's something that's taking quite a toll on her. My ears droop at the thought. She doesn't have to go through it all on her own, she's got us. “I did what I had to do. I'm not discussing this.”

I want to go over there and comfort her, I really do, but maybe I should let them have a moment. They're a family, after all, and had she not invited me in, I would have either stayed outside or gone back to the hotel. 

♪ What weighs on your soul, old friend? 

I implore you to share the load

If it was thou who slew the angel

Why not let your strength be known? ♪

I'm not sure why I'm frustrated with her keeping this from me. I have no right to be, anyway, and for a series of reasons. First off, I'm keeping a gigantic secret from her myself, most definitely bigger than hers. And second, we have a more casual relationship, we're not even girlfriends yet, I can't really expect her to be comfortable sharing this with me. But I guess I'm upset I didn't know sooner because this is about my home, my loved ones. This is a risk to them, and I'd give anything for them to be safe.

♪ I always thought 

That I would keep blood off my face

But when that thing attacked

I had to act

To cross that line and keep them safe ♪

She killed in self defense. That's completely reasonable. She killed to protect her daughters. But they were out on extermination day alone? Why didn't they call me for help? I would have gone down there in the chaos if it meant protecting them. I would have risked being found out if it meant protecting them. But one thing I dislike is how angels are dehumanized here. It's like we're animals to them, which from their point of view is fair, but not all angels are like that. The exorcists might be, but not all of them. Not all of us.

♪ But if anyone knew

Then all of hell would rise to war

And who's to say who'd survive the fray? 

I might lose the ones I was killing for ♪

♪ So I

I'll be your keeper

Do whatever it takes

I'll make the mistakes

I'll keep you safe and keep this secret ♪

The way she hugs her daughters, the way they look up at her with affection and gratitude, it makes my heart warm as a smile comes to my lips. And the fact that she lifts her head to look at me for a moment during that last sentence makes me feel so cared for, even just for a second.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It doesn't take long for us to find refuge in her room, all alone and under the cozy lighting of the evening. Because the girls are out for the night, Carmilla seems to feel much more loose and free with her movements and actions, testified by how she pulls me in for a kiss milliseconds after I close the door behind us. My hands fly to her cheeks and I get on my tiptoes to reciprocate the kiss better, squeaking in surprise when she picks me up and carries me to the bed. She breaks the kiss and sets me down on the mattress, then sits beside me and kicks off her ballet slippers. I do the same with my own shoes and crawl to sit behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and giving her a gentle squeeze as I litter kisses on her bare shoulders. I can feel the tension leaving her body when I hug her, then nuzzle my nose into the crook of her neck and give it a gentle bite before trailing kisses up the side of her neck and under her ear, using my tail to tease her by looping it around her side and tickling her chin with the tuft. “You need some help distracting yourself, cielo?”

“Mhm, is that okay?” She replies softly, hands undoing the neatly tied up hair to let it down. The sweet scent of her perfume and shampoo almost makes me dizzy as the black and white waterfall cascades beside me, nose nuzzling into the soft fluffy hair as I inhale its smell with a sigh. 

“Of course it's okay. Just lie down for me, yeah? I'll take care of you, hermosa.” I purr as she obeys and lies back on the bed for me. My terms of endearment for her used to be in English before I asked her to teach me some in Spanish. I knew a few already, but I wanted her to tell me which ones she likes, and after I gained more confidence with the words, I started calling her those - and a few of my own as well.

I crawl on top of her and pull her in for another kiss, hands roaming up and down her sides before beginning to fiddle with the buttons on her shirt. My lips trail down her jaw, neck and collarbone as I undo the last button without looking, relying only on familiarity and basking in the soft sighs of pleasure that she lets out at my soft kissing and nipping. I lift her shirt over her head and smile down at her, connecting our lips once more as my hands gently cup her breasts. She gasps softly into my mouth at the contact and I feel her chest rising and falling under my touch, her breaths soft and slowly increasing in speed. I break the kiss to attach my lips to her nipple and swirl my tongue around it before lapping at it, relishing in the soft moans that escape her mouth. Her hands rest at the base of my neck as her head leans back against the pillow, the warmth of her touch giving me the urge to pleasure her right. The touch of her hands on either side of my neck feels familiar, it reminds me of-

No, don't you fucking dare.

I open my eyes to meet her ruby ones and focus on her face, contorting with pleasure when I switch my mouth to her other breast. “Mhm- ahh, Y/N…” 

Sliding between her spread legs, I make a trail of kisses down her stomach until I reach the waistband of her spiked skirt, then pull it down her legs along with her black pantyhose. The sight of the glistening precum between her legs makes me shiver, pupils dilating with hunger before I delve my tongue into her folds, tail stiffening at the taste. My ears twitch at the wonderful sound of the sharper moan that falls from her lips at the pleasure and her fingers tangle into my mane, tugging and ruffling at the golden tuft as she grinds her pussy on my face to look for further stimulation. Her back arches off the mattress when I wrap my lips around her sensitive clit and gently suck on it, her louder mewls sending waves of arousal to my pulsating core. “Oh, fuck… oh, that's good, amor, don't stop…”

I'm not even planning to. 

To make the sensations even more intense, I tease a finger to her entrance before sliding it inside, stomach flipping as her tight walls clench around my digit. She moans my name with a gasp, squirming on the bed as her hand reaches for mine and clasps it tightly. I remember how Lute started doing that once she got more comfortable, letting the roughness and passion give say to more tender moments once in a while. 

No, wait, what am I doing? 

Stop. Now. 

Don't do that. It can never end well. 

I stick another digit inside her and push both of them deeper, the pads of my fingers hitting the spongy spot that makes her body arch as she lets out a loud cry of blissful pleasure and her fingers tighten in my mane. “I'm almost there, almost- ah, fuck…!”

To help her get there, I piston my fingers inside her with more force and let go of her hand to rub circles on her clit, giving it a gentle smack and watching as she comes undone. The way her hand claws at the bed sheets, the arch of her back, her face contorted with white-hot pleasure as her moaning turns slightly higher in pitch. 

As soon as she relaxes on the bed, I crawl up to her and kiss her on the lips, then leave gentle kisses on her temple and cheek, soft purrs escaping me as my hand brushes away the hair sticking to her forehead. “Better, mi ninfa?”

She smiles at me and chuckles softly, nodding as she wraps her arms around me and brushes my mane back into place with her fingers, “Much better. But now it's your turn, come here.”

“Hey, come on, you don't have to. You had a long day, just have some rest.” I coo, kissing her forehead and caressing her cheek. She must be tired out from the meeting and the stress and all. Or maybe we should stop before I do or say something stupid and fuck this up.

“I'm not tired, I can take another round.” She replies and sits up on her elbows, looking at me with a little smirk. I know that face, she's up to something. She's not at all shy when it comes to trying new things in bed, but as it turns out, it's something I've tried before. Her hand reaches into her drawer for something that I assume is a toy but when I see it, my ears and tail perk up in recognition. Is that a strap? “Do you wanna try this?”

The first time I tried this was with Lute, and pretty early on in our relationship. She'd fuck me with it as often as she could, she'd always put aside a bit of time every day just to rail me, and man, did we get noise complaints from her neighbors. “Yeah, why not?”

She smiles and gives me a quick peck on the lips, then we switch places and she starts putting on the strap while I undo my bow tie and take off the rest of my clothes. Once I'm laid out on the bed and bare before her, she lies on top of me and bends down to capture my lips in a passionate kiss while she teases the tip to my entrance. The familiar sensation draws a small gasp from me, letting out a softer moan as she starts to push it further inside. More moans and babbles fall from my lips at the familiarity of being half-filled like this, panting and whimpering out, “M- More… please, more- ahh…”

Carmilla chuckles and rests a hand on my lower stomach for leverage as she bottoms out, pausing to wait for my go ahead. Shit, I forgot how good this feels. I give her a weak nod and let my head lull back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut as I wrap my legs around her and lock my ankles on her lower back. My head becomes a bit fuzzy with the intense sensations that are only enhanced when she snaps her hips forward and back before bottoming out again, setting a slow and gentle pace. A string of moans, whines and curses spills from my lips as my hands grip the bed sheets tightly, a bead of sweat trickling down my temple, “Please… please, harder… mommy, please…”

The word makes her stop for a moment, my confused eyes meeting her lust-blown ones before I realize what I just called her.

Damn it.

“What did you just call me?”

“Mommy- mmph!”

Before I can even finish speaking, she pulls out and manhandles me onto my stomach, this time intruding my pussy with much more haste and aggressively pounding me from behind. I've never seen her like this, so animalistic, so rough. Her hands gripping my hips, the sound of our skin slapping together, the tip of the plastic dick hitting just the right spot each time with flawless precision, it all makes them blur together. The mental image of her porcelain skin and her snowy white hair bouncing above her shoulders, her golden eyes flashing with desire and adoration, the warmth of her body, muscular and delicate at the same time intrudes my mind at the best yet worst of times and it's too clear to get it out. It's her flawless hips and her calloused hands gripping me when she fucks me, it's her wings unfurling and flapping with the effort, it's her lips leaving hickeys on my shoulder when I cry tears of overstimulation. And with an unexpected rough pull of my tail, a high-pitched moan is ripped from my throat as the orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave and I cry out,

“Lute!”

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

God, what the hell did I just do?!

Lute.

I said Lute.

I cried out another woman's name during sex.

“Carmilla, wait-” I begin as I button up my shirt with haste, following her out into the hall of the mansion and reaching out to touch her arm. I knew there was nothing I could say to make her feel better, but I had to try.

"Don't." She warns, hurt etched across her face, which made me retract my hand, ears drooping with resignation. It breaks my heart to see her like this. Damn it, I screwed this up forever. How could I have been so dumb? “I've always known you had issues, but if you were in love with someone else, why didn't you end things with me?"

"I- I didn't even know, I-” I sigh mid-sentence, tears stinging my eyes. How would I even explain this to her? “Look, it's... complicated. I used to date this person 30 years ago, and now she thinks I'm dead. I just- I saw her by accident last week, and it just came crashing back."

"She thinks you're what? I don't understand...” she squints her eyes, hands on her hips as she gazes at me with bewilderment. I can't tell this to her, it's too risky.

"It's really complicated, just drop it." I say and turn away for a moment, taking a few steps down the hallway. I can't tell her, what's the point anyway? You can't change the past. It's not going to change anything, and most definitely not for the better. It's going to kill our relationship. No, no, I can't lose another person. She's the only one that affirms me and is there for me at any moment of need. And I just hurt her feelings.

Carmilla grabs my wrist to stop me, crimson eyes flashing with heartbreak, bafflement and something akin to anger. I don't blame her, I never could, to be honest. I'd hate me, too. "Y/ N, you just called me another woman's name while we were having sex. I deserve to know about her."

"It's better for the both of us if you don't know."

"Y/N, just talk to me!"

"No!" I swiftly turn around and snap at her, ripping my hand from her grip. A soft slicing noise and a pang of pain drags across the back of my hand and I cry out, covering the wound with my other hand while my entire face pales.

Oh, shit.

My blood.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, fuck, no, this cannot be happening to me!

It's over, the relationship is definitely over now.

Carmilla gasps and looks at the angelic blades on the wall, the distress in her eyes mellowing into concern. That sends a stab of guilt in my heart. She's angry with me but she still cares about me enough to worry when I'm in pain. God, she's going to loathe me if she sees. She reaches her big, soft hand out and murmurs a gentle, "Let me see.”

"No, it's fine. I'm fine." I flinch back like a startled cub and hold my hand close to my chest, terrified of her seeing the golden blood. I hate this. I hate this so, so, so, so much.

"Y/N, that's a dangerous weapon. Let me see the wound." She presses, gently gripping my forearm and trying to pry it away from my chest, to which I apply resistance and take a few wobbly steps back as my tail tucks between my legs. She can't know, she just can't. She'll turn away from me forever. She wouldn't be wrong in doing so, but I would be shattered if she did.

"No, please don't."

"Y/N-"

She pulls my hand from my chest and her scarlet eyes land on the golden liquid cascading down my hand, beautiful face morphing into an expression I hate with every fiber of my being. Pain, confusion, betrayal, fear. The way her eyes drop, the way her eyebrows crease, the way her lips part with shock. The color drains from my skin and my eyes fill with tears, choosing to stay silent for now. Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly, she has no idea what to say. And what can she say? What do you say when the person you're dating lies about where they come from?

I stifle a sob and wait for her to say something, anything. What is there to say? I might not be able to take this much longer. 

God, I just want to vanish right now. My legs, arms and body tremble violently as I struggle to make eye contact with her, shifting the muscles in my back to wrap my wings around myself... except I don't have wings anymore. "You... you're an angel...?"

"I used to be." I reply, sniffing softly and roughly wiping the tears from my eyes, angry at myself for letting them fall, for not watching myself with the weapon, for letting Lute's name slip.

"You're no exorcist. You can't even touch a weapon." She thinks aloud, slightly shaky from the shock. I don't want to tell her more about my past, but am I really in the position to ask her for favors? I lied to her, I broke her heart, I didn't treat her right, I never did. This is less than fair to her. "What are you, then? Archangel?"

"Seraph." I sigh, ears drooping as I look up at her like a cub that's been kicked, but not to try to sway her or get my way. I don't even know what my way would be. To be honest, I'm just hoping she won't leave, but at this point, even that seems like too much to ask for.

When did things get so complicated?

A breath of disbelief puffs from her lips and she runs a hand through her hair, trying to make sense of the situation. I can't even begin to imagine the thoughts running through her head right now, the questions she must have, the pain she must be in. "That glow you have, how you're never around after extermination day... those six... bumps on your back...”

I sniff and look to the side in shame, shrinking myself into my shoulders as if to hide myself from her. I tried to protect my family, I tried to protect the love of my life, my philtatē, and failed so horribly. I got my wings torn off my back, I got ruined for it. A Seraph whose family didn't even know where she was. But she thinks I'm a bad angel. An evil one that just cares about herself.

“And Lute... as in Adam's second-in-command Lute?" She asks, tears beading up in the corners of her eyes as she came to so many realizations. My ears go flat against my head as I force myself to look her in the eyes. It's the least she deserves. "You dated the lieutenant of the exorcist army?"

"Yeah... yeah, that's her.” I breathe, brushing the tears off my face and forcing myself to come to terms with it. The connection I had with Lute is unlike anything I've had in more than four billion years. The things I'd do to make her happy, to keep her safe and well. I'd give anything to be able to spend the rest of my life with her and give her anything that would make her happy... but it's not the life we're meant to have. And because of some stupid dream I built up in my head that's destined to go unfulfilled, I hurt a person that actually wants me and cares about me. I took her for granted and hurt her feelings.

"Were you ever going to tell me about all this?" She asks as tears bead up in the corners of her eyes. Why did I have to go and make her face look like that?

"Yes! Of course I was..."

"When?"

“…”

"..?"

"Um..."

"Ugh! I can't believe you!" She groans and whips around to walk down the hallway and I dash to follow after her, reflexively reaching out for her wrist, but then I stop and let my hand drop to my side. She doesn't want me to touch her.

“You want to talk about keeping secrets? What about the exorcist you killed?” I reply, my own frustrations bleeding through the argument as my ears draw back. I'm completely in the wrong and I know it, but the stubborn part of me can't help but want to argue with her. Good going, dipshit.

“Oh, please, don't even pretend you care about us. I saw the look on your face when you saw the angel's head. I know you recognized her, and I know you only care because you're selfish!” She yells back, pointing a finger to my chest, and glaring down at me with a venom that makes my stomach churn, but the accusation makes me so much angrier. 

Selfish? I severed my bond with my older sister in an attempt to protect Lucifer and then lost it altogether when I tried to clean up her mess. I tried to do the right thing and protect my baby sister, to protect the woman I love from this crackpot idea that all sinners should die, and instead I lose everything I ever cared about. She doesn't truly know what selfish means if she's got the gall to call me that. “Selfish?! Is that what you think?!”

“Yes, that's precisely what I think!”

I take a few steps closer to her to stand almost a breath away, close enough to speak right in her face, and grit out, “If I were truly as selfish and petty as you think, I would have been grateful to see that bitch's head on your table, because her and her buddies are the reason I couldn't show my face anywhere near the army for being queer. That woman held me down while the other ones ripped out my wings. They're homophobic assholes who deserve to die, but I wasn't thinking of them, I was thinking about my family. I have people I'd die for, too - because I did - so don't lecture me about selfishness and secrecy when you don't know anything about me and especially when you did the exact same thing.”

I don't like talking about these things, in fact I hate to do so, and I can't believe that the first time I'm opening up to her is to win an argument. While I was defending myself, I didn't even realize when tears started streaming down my face, but I can feel my cheeks wetting now. I hate this so much. How did I even get in this situation in the first place? It could be so much simpler if I'd just done so many things differently. But you can't change the past.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.” She seems to have deflated a lot, despite her posture still being tense. She genuinely regrets calling me selfish, I can see it in her eyes, but she's still really angry with me, and I honestly don't blame her. “But that still doesn't justify the fact that you called me another woman's name. If I'm not your person, that's fine, but you shouldn't have led me on like that!”

"Carmilla, listen, no one hates me more than I do right now-"

"Are you so sure about that?"

I grimace and my ears go flat against my head. That stings, but I had it coming. The way she turns around with crossed arms and looks down at me with that sneer of resentment, that quirked eyebrow and that expression of disgust, I never thought it would be directed at me. On second thought, she probably didn't either.

"You're right. I'm completely in the wrong, and I'm not trying to justify myself. No one hates me more than I do except for you. I wanted to tell you, I honestly did, but I was scared of this. I was scared you'd hate me and push me away. I was hung up on my dumb feelings and didn't take you seriously when you were the only one to care about me - and I know I have no right to say this, but I care about you, too - and I'm so, so, so sorry for doing this to you." I want to comfort her so much, to wipe her tears and reassure her that everything would be alright, but even if she'd ever let me touch her again, it wouldn't be true. It's far from alright. So instead I settle for asking the question I'm petrified of knowing the answer to. "Is there anything I can do to salvage this?"

Carmilla pauses for a few seconds - the longest eternity I've ever experienced in my pre-creational existence - and sighs, running a hand down her face to wipe her tears as her expression mellows back into the more raw, real one she had before. The sight makes my heart crumble to pieces: the way her eyes are so full of pain, how her cheeks glisten with her tears. And I'm the cause of it. I'm the reason.

"No."

[scekrex]

Adam X Male Reader. Who's been cheated on, in the past and is slowly starting to trust Adam more as time goes on.

Okay okay okay hear me the fuck out: they both struggle bc both Lilith and Eve left him and they both had something with Lucifer (Eve presumably cheated - in this fic it's implied that both cheated on Adam to spice things up a lil)

There's a darkness at the heart of my love, that runs cold, runs deep

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt, cheating (mentioned)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When Adam decided to play a role in your silly little afterlife and you realized that you wanted him in a way that you’ve only ever wanted one person before, the sweet taste of your platonic relationship soured. You had developed feelings for the first man, that you couldn’t deny any longer, but you hated yourself for it - because who were to promise you that he wouldn’t fuck with someone else while dating you like your ex partner had done? The only person who could do so was Adam, yet you had learned the hard way that many promises people made - winner or human didn’t matter - were empty.

They told you what they thought you wanted to hear to simply get their way and while you wanted to trust Adam, and maybe your heart already did trust his sugar coated words, your mind strongly disagreed and doubted every little promise spoken by him - not just by him though, your mind told you that every promise was just a bunch of empty words, that way you were keeping yourself safe, you protected yourself from getting hurt again.

Adam, on the other hand, felt similar. He had been cheated on twice, back in his early days as a human, back when he had blindly trusted Lucifer’s and Lilith’s words, back in Eden when Eve had promised him that she and Lucifer were just friends. But they had been so much more than just that - just friends weren’t fucking each other. The two women that had been created for him and only him had turned against him and chosen someone else, why shouldn’t you do the same? God had never truly intended for Adam to date guys, hadn’t he? Yet you were there and Adam wanted nothing more than to call you his. But surely a person who wasn’t even meant for him would leave him just like the women did that God had created for him. They had been meant to love and desire him, but they hadn't done so. They had crushed Adam’s heart, shattered it into pieces and stepped on the shards until it had been nothing but dust. And then you had been so quick to glue the tiny pieces back together, you had fixed something deep inside of him without even knowing it but there was the risk of losing you again - he told himself that if he’d keep himself distanced, it wouldn’t hurt as much. That was bullshit though and deep down he knew that.

And then there was Lute, she was not only Adam’s lieutenant and best friend, she was also the self claimed couple therapist Adam and you desperately needed. So when the three of you sat in the living room of the house you and Adam shared, and Lute waited for one of you to begin talking, you took that chance, “What if his promises of staying forever and not fucking someone else are empty?” You felt a little bad, voicing your thoughts so harshly with Adam sitting right next to you and you noticed how he flinched a little at your words, how his wings rose a little to hide himself behind them. Lute tilted her head a little, “Why would they?” And to that you had no answer so you remained silent while Adam’s curious eyes were watching you carefully from the side. “I’ve known Adam for a long while now,” Lute continued, she gently placed a hand on your knee and your eyes met hers. There was honesty in those golden orbs of hers, honesty and made your concerns seem so unwarranted. “He has never looked at someone the way he looks at you,” you turned your head towards the first man, the man mumbled something inaudible but nodded - he was not used to being so vulnerable, to talk about his fears openly. “What if he fucking finds someone like Lucifer and decides to fucking drop me like those whores of ex-wives did?” Lute sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “Look at him, he’s seen your crybaby tantrums and yet decided to stay - he’s not gonna leave Adam.” And while Lute’s words were true and both of you logically knew that the other wouldn’t cheat because they know what it’s like to be on the other end of it, it wasn’t that easy to change an entire mindset.

It would take a lot of time and work, even more energy to fix the both of you. But you and Adam were willing to work this through. Together, side by side and hand in hand. And maybe one day the both of you wouldn’t have to struggle with that fear anymore, today was not that day though.

[anonymouscheeses]

so…

about this human verse you got…

how does Al fit into all of this? Is that where Vaggie got the spell or is the gang she’s a part of also a monster hunter org?

This is Alastor's human design! I wanted him to give off a old money rich vibe. I didn't look up a reference for old money attire 😭 i jjst looked at some randim char from a show i watched that kinda gave off Alastor vibes. This may change but tbh I kinda like it the way it is. Altho one day I may change my mind <3 lore drops under cut!!

(Sorry if he doesn't look like Alastor, these human designs are mostly based on my redesigns so they look even MORE different than usual ill get better hopefulllyyyy)

Husk(left) is Vaggie/Valerie's dad in this au cuz I said so unfortunately. Sorry i dont make the rules! Husk is Salvadoran like Valerie cuz ofc, like he's 100% black but I wanted him to be Valerie's dad soo I was like.... yeah win sum lose sum. But dw I have SO much black characters on the way. It's kind of terrifying!!

Alastor tries to be like a dad to Valerie but she resents him. Her mom died to a sickness, and Valerie has no room in her for another parent figure in her life except Husk.

Also, Al is gay aroace, so when he fell in love with Husk he was SO surprised likeee how??? He was his first love ever and Al just loves him dearly despite never loving anyone ever before. He's still a girls girl ofc but brutha is gay u can't tell me otherwise 😍

Charlie gave him the headband with the antlers that she cheaply made herself. Alastor loves them genuinely. (If Alastor cares abt Valerie or Charlie is purely up to viewer, but if you want to see him care for orr like be toxic to them send a request fr fr imma draw that shi 😍🙏). Alastor is the only one who knows that Charlie is a demon because he's the one that taught Valerie how to summon a demon(YOU'RE SPOT ON. HOW??).

(Also I forgor the stripes. Sorry I was so sleepy drawing this you can probably telll.😭)

Alastor is still a cannibal, his husband and step daughter just doesn't know it yet, and NO he will probably never tell them unless forced to or he feels like he can. This man is the friend the smiley bro 😭

I'll maybe soon draw what happened between Valerie, Lute, and Adam during the fight, since ALOT happened. But it may be a bit before I get to that

Alastor taught the kids young how to summon demons the WRONG way. Because obviously he didn't want literal immature kids to end the world completely. The trio spent years finding ways to summon just one demon. Adam did it to create chaos, Lute just followed, and Valerie just loved having fun with her friends.

Now that they aren't childhood best friends. And that whole fight happened. Valerie doesn't know what to do. Alastor suggests she gets a bodyguard from hell, any demon at all(Demons are devoted to you as long as you keep a part of your deal with them or you break the contract of summoning one). Aaaaand that's how Charlie came to be summoned! Valerie got her eye stabbed out, Alastor was being silly and taught his kid how to summon a demon, Valerie was like "aight ig", then summoned her future wife.

(WILL ALSO ONE DAY DRAW THE FIRST TIME CHARLIE AND VALERIE MET.... ONE DAY....)

Fun fact: Alastor has a radio station of his own that he plays 1920's music in. Although most people would rather NOT listen to old times music, somehow he makes it work that people always listen to his radio. Maybe a deal with a demon of some sorts...? Perhaps... :>

[edoro]

dunmeshi spoilers below the cut, just thinking some thoughts about Thistle post-canon

i've seen more than one post about the idea of him getting back into the role of jester/musician for Laios's court, and while it's cute, the more i think about it the more i feel like... i don't think that he'd want to and i honestly don't think that he should

Thistle was, in many ways, objectified and used by the Melinis, and i think understanding that is important to understanding his character

from the very beginning, Freinag wanted an elven servant to make himself look more impressive. his advisors didn't want him falling under the sway of an adult, so they found a child who could be made safe and harmless and raised to be loyal to the court rather than having pre-existing loyalties, and they said, "here, having him as your jester will be impressive on its own."

Thistle was brought - most likely literally bought, and if not still given to the king as a gift - to the court to be a living status symbol. first and foremost, he was something exotic and cool that the king could show off. he was a conversation piece, a belonging, a pet. he was Freinag's son the same way my cat is my son; i don't doubt there was genuine affection there, but Thistle wasn't a person in that relationship.

being a jester is part of that objectification. it's another thing that made him safe and harmless. he's not a scheming elf or a potential threat, he's just a silly little guy wearing curly shoes and playing the lute. there's nothing to worry about, because he has no status or influence, he's just here to entertain.

and i don't know how much Thistle... liked that. he was deeply loyal to Freinag and Delgal and wanted badly to be useful and earn their regard, especially Delgal's. he definitely did seem to see Delgal as a little brother who he needed to protect and take care of, even when Delgal was a grown man. but did he actually enjoy being an object of entertainment?

it's hard to tell because he's spent 1000 years having holes eaten in his brain until his personality is incredibly warped from what it originally was, but one thing about Thistle is that i don't get the impression he likes to be laughed at or not taken seriously. that one bit during the dragon fight in his house, where he says he'll let Laios choose which dragon kills him and then gets mad when Laios says, "really?" - to me, that reads as if he thinks Laios is being sarcastic, and it pisses him off.

during that battle in the dungeon, when he has Delgal gather the residents of the castle and surrounding area and then sics monsters on their enemies, then heals that kid's dead dad and realizes everyone is staring at him, he seems nervous, suddenly aware of what he's just done and that the people seem fearful of him - it doesn't come across like someone who's comfortable being the center of attention, and it implies some very fascinating things about just how aware Thistle is of how suspicious the people around him are of elves in general, which in turn could imply some fascinating things about how he sees his role as jester and his own relationship with being Safe And Harmless -

but i digress a bit. the point is, we get a couple of indications that he's touchy about his own dignity, doesn't like being laughed at, and isn't necessarily comfortable in front of a crowd. we also know from extras (and just kind of his overall demeanor throughout the story) that he has no sense of humor and is terrible at jokes. all of this combines to, frankly, paint a picture of someone who isn't well-suited to being a jester at all

it's one thing to be fun and entertaining as a kid. he wanted to fit in, he wanted love, he wanted to be cared for, and he doesn't stop wanting those things as he gets older, but his sense of dignity and understanding of his position change and develop. being a pet curiosity as a child might not be so bad, but as a teenager? as an adolescent growing towards adulthood?

the Melinis used Thistle. Freinag used him as a status symbol and entertainment. Delgal used him as a confidante and magician and tried to make Thistle solve his fears and problems for him. Thistle destroyed himself trying to do what Delgal begged him to do.

so given all of that, i don't think that Thistle becoming a jester or entertainer for Laios would suit him well. it would just be trading one position of objectification for another. i think the best post-canon outcome for him would be to find a way to exist where he's not being used by anyone and he can explore and develop his own identity outside of the comfort and utility he brings to others.

[oblivionsdream]

It wasn't meant to happen like this.

Actually, if it was up to Augustine, it wasn’t meant to happen at all, at least not yet. The helmet was meant to stay obscuring his face, and the Fool infatuated with him a little while longer. He didn’t want to show his face, not yet, because he was sure—certain—that would mean the end of the silly little game they've had going on. And he didn’t want it to end. He wanted it to be a little while longer. Just… a little bit more.

But then the fire had started—how the sorcerer managed to slip past all the guards and knights he’ll never know, and even if he knew it wasn’t their fault he was still pissed at them—and everyone had panicked and began fleeing, but the poor Jester was still at the front of the room, fire surrounding him as he struggled to breath, clutching the lute he’d been playing. 

Augustine couldn't let him die. Gods forbid that.

He wasn’t wearing his helmet nor even his full set of armour (the King had specifically requested it—said it’d be rude to show up fully covered with the delegation from the Winter Court there) so he’d bitten his lip underneath his helmet and lied to the Fool, saying he’d not be at the feast. The Fool had wilted, visibly, and shuffled away, a miserable jingling of his hat’s bells haunting Augustine for hours afterwards. 

But he couldn’t risk it, he knew. Because, if the Jester had found out, then—

But rescuing him from the fire was more important. So, Augustine had powered past everyone fleeing, his footsteps heavy and sure as he strode across. When he’d reached where the fire surrounded the Fool completely, he sighed and then took a deep breath, ignoring the other Knights and servants calling for him to leave because he’ll die! He strode into the fire with his arms across his face.

He didn’t get too burned—some of his armour was on, thank the Gods—and he covered his nose to stop the fumes from entering his system. 

His heart broke in half when he saw the Fool bent over, coughing into his hands, eyes tearing up. So, before the Jester could fully comprehend what was happening, Augustine had picked him up, wrapped most of his body in his cape, and sped through the fire to prevent any damage. Then he’d sped over to the court physician’s chambers (no one else was hurt, but Augustine thinks that even if they were he would’ve gotten his Fool treated first, regardless of what was happening) and laid the man down on the bed, who was now more alert, aware of his surroundings. 

“Oh, thank you—” The Jester said, his voice extraordinarily soft and thankful and sincere. Augustine bites his lips. The Fool was holding onto his hand squeezing it, and he couldn’t help but blush—though later he would blame it on the fire, thank you very much.

“No problem, Jingly Menace,” he says, his voice softer and kinder than before.

And then the Fool’s eyes widen and Augustine realises what he’s said.

“Knight?”

“Ah—”

The Fool looks about ready to rant at him for thirty days, but then a cough over takes him and Augustine sees his body visibly wilt.

“As soon as I’m better,” the Fool whispers, as the physician runs around him and tries to get the right remedies, “You are inviting me to your chambers, and we are going to do some sinful things.”

Augustine is blushing as he speeds off, his entire body vibrating with the shock of it all.

(sorry for just using my own story line for this and if my characterizations are off - which they probably are - i just wanted to write something and this came to mind <3)

AHHHHH OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS. THE DRAMA. THE ANGST. THE POOR JINGLY MENACE. JUST KISS ALREADY YOU FOOLS

[originemesis]

"creation took 7 days; now watch me fuck it all up in one night"

canon divergent adam / abel // haz.b.in h.o.tel

21 + / mid-low activity / private

ordained and entertained by skeu ; icon templates by cinna! 💜💛 human icons by bbglucifer ;p <3 --- > xxx

side blog: vortex @gutstaken

here are some cool people 😎 : @deathinfeathers , @voxistem , @lilitophidian , @cast-you-dxwn , @2ndrib , @atomeyes + @sainticidal , @arachn0philia , @drraphaelmd, @brokendreamscreation , @hlylight , @chasingrainbcws , @danger-tits-lute , @hclluvahctel

about // playlist // active headcanon // current verses // rules [beneath]

Caard-Esque:

Blog is 21+ for content concerns and mun is 25+ (an old) and will not interact with minors on this blog. minors should technically not follow me here either ~ so, don'tttttt...do that? thanks! if i catch you, you're yeeted to the shadow realm.

Do not follow this blog if you are sensitive to the sensitive topics related to this particular genre. I tag with "content word cw" for the extra wild stuff, but that's about it. adam literally has the highest swear/slur count in the show and he's only in 3 episodes, so be aware of that.

I tend to be private/selective as i get fairly overwhelmed with too much activity. i really get into plots though, and i'll spam the dash with some silly original dick chauvinism from time to time when ive fed my inner gremlins past midnight. That said, I do get easily overwhelmed when I'm following too many people and multi muse blogs in particular can exacerbate this feeling, so if I do not follow back - I might just not be in a good place to atm or I just don't see possible interactions btw our characters. It's nothing personal! ^^

This is a mutuals only interaction blog for my sanity (anons being fine). if i can see plots happening between us, i'll likely follow. but i get overwhelmed easily so please don't take it personally if i don't follow back or follow back right away.

I am not exclusive, but I prioritize my plotted threads and may have some mains/activity based off that as far as my main verse goes. But I will never be fully exclusive and i enjoy exploring different character dynamics. Also multiship is fine, but I am not exclusively here to ship or write suggestive content. My muses have always and will always require plotting and scene chemistry for me to consider writing ship material. In the case I do reblog shippy prompts still feel free to send in ofc! I'll see if I can make it work or not.

If I don't get a follow back within a week or two, if blogs i follow go inactive for up to 6-7 weeks, or if there's just no attempt on either of our ends to connect for an indefinite amount of time - i'll occasionally go through my list and soft block to clean things up. if we ever want to give it a go in the future, the option is there for us to re-follow and resume! i have in the past been made to feel like I'm walking on egg shells in rpcs regarding these matters and id rather avoid it here...im just here to chill, write and leave weird surprises in dms.

I don't like the feeling of being 'collected' so...if you are interacting with multiple of my muses, I ask you have a different dynamic for mine than them. This is just an act of courtesy I also extend to my rp partners. I interact more with folks that have a special relationship with my muse, so it's needed to deep dive into more interesting topics for me. I also do not usually interact w/ other of the same muse cuz I feel like I 'absorb' how others play him and I want to keep my version separated from that. I might give it a shot some times though depending on how it's presented.

I know that Adam is a bad guy. He's insufferable and can push buttons- but I am not him and I dislike constantly feeling like I'm being barraged for his actions, especially since I consider him to be a heavily layered character that should not be shoe horned into a standard 'ok irredeemable and never allowed nice things' box. So- if you honestly hate this character please don't interact. I am here for exploring taboo topics and ways that a flawed character can make others think he's justified, betray them, make people feel COMPLICATED things... I also love torturing my muse and taking the piss out of him, so I don't need people moving in and tying to constantly put him down/ruin his current plots by being god modey or not at least asking me how we should proceed in a power dynamic, or relationships cuz you don't ship what I ship, or find my interactions with other characters 'toxic' and 'not allowed'...let me explore and enjoy what I like on my blog within reason and do talk with me on dms if you don't like how things are going with our muses and you wanna explore other routes. I love to plot and I am very reasonable.

This post/my rules and conditions are subject to change based on what I get up to on here.

[4amfnaf]

FNAF 1 Kingdom AU Headcannons?

I guess? And they’re also humans idk

Idk whats come over me, might continue with this if people like it though…

Freddy:

The King, duh

Good at his job, respected by his people, feared by his enemies.

May have certain mysterious magical powers

Charismatic, intelligent, an excellent leader with a sort of mysterious allure to him; almost always seems to know something you dont

Overall really awesome, yet somehow chronically bitchless

Bro CANNOT get laid, most girls end up thinking hes weird (no one knows the reason)

Citizens and other royal subjects genuinely fear he may never produce an heir 💀

Both of his parents are dead, and he doesnt even need to tell you, you can kind of tell just by looking at him

Chica:

The Royal Advisor/personal assistant/acting Queen (since Freddy cant get a real one)

Has lived with the royal family her whole life, and was initially a servant until her friendship with Freddy led to her gradual promotion

Shes basically his second in command when it comes to the welfare of the people; she cares a lot about keeping them happy and healthy

Many wish she would actually marry Freddy and become the Queen, but shes really not interested (after knowing him his whole life, he is NOT her type)

She has a sweet and caring nature, and is loved by the community for it. Although, shes known to be a little too ambitious with her kindness, which has ended up biting her in the past

Also is known to spend a lot of her free time in the royal kitchen, baking, cooking, and maybe only a little annoying the head chef by butting in.

Bonnie:

The Court Jester

Fuckin hates his job

Does he run around jingling and making a fool of himself regardless? Yes, but he does NOT enjoy it

Only remains employed because sometimes he gets to shred on the lute (and because Freddy insists hes “such a silly little guy” and wont release him)

Actually somewhat stoic and nihilistic by nature, dare one say cool, but certainly capable of mischief

Occasionally gets fed up while performing (because anything other than playing the lute drives him crazy), and loudly threatens to- ahem- ‘kill everyone in here and then himself,’ but no one takes it seriously because they think its part of the bit (this drives him even crazier)

Shockingly, is also a close advisor for Freddy. Given that he’s always around for entertainment, he ends up hearing everything anyways. Sometimes has good ideas, sometimes Freddy just laughs and says “what a silly little guy” when he suggests something (once again drives him crazy)

Known to flirt with any nearby maidens, and it would probably work if not for his goofy ass outfit. He curses Freddy’s name for making him dress like a freak.

Foxy:

Pirate turned Knight

Was a highly wanted criminal, as he was very good at being a pirate. When he was eventually caught, Freddy gave him the choice between life in prison, or becoming a knight, as he was skilled in combat.

He actually chose life in prison initially, something about a pirate’s honor or whatever, but Freddy said he could keep his ship if he became a knight, so he couldn’t refuse

Definitely relishes the glory and attention he receives being a knight, but if you ever asked him he’d vehemently deny it- he’ll always be a pirate at heart

He worked his way up the ranks and is now one of the head knights, being the fastest and most agile. He works closely with Freddy, as Freddy values Foxy’s less biased input (all the other nights and guards kiss his ass)

Fiery and a tad dramatic, has many pirate stories to tell (that no one can verify the truth of), and the people somewhat begrudgingly regard him as the strongest warrior in the kingdom other than maybe Freddy himself (if he were to fight that is). Hes capable of getting down to business when needed, but he tends to be a little more on the eccentric side.

However he is chronically clumsy around girls, therefore also subsequently bitchless

For some reason fnaf reverse harem kingdom AU shojo comedy is really speaking to me rn

Considering making a little fanfiction comic about this… idk should i do it? Be fr with me guys