#it also explains how moth can do some of the things they do too

[silentmoths]

I've been rethinking Moth's lore now that Natlan has dropped and now with the completion of the 5.3 AQ and some suggestions from @pranabefall I have a solid idea on what their deal is and man

it explains so much abt why moth is the way they are, whilst also tying in perfectly with their HSR counterpart, Fal.

and also just...the quiet and unmentionable angst simmering beneath it all heh

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

keep thinking about a possible fic where ford is stung/bitten by that one insect that's apparently so painful the guy putting together the pain scale had to have his friend make the entry on his behalf...

[tinyowlthoughts]

The EC-Theobromine: Chocolate

"Ugh, I would kill for some chocolate right now."

Gorvan fumbled the holopad he'd been typing on, all four hands brushing against the screen as he tried to keep it from hitting the ship floor. He failed and it bounced off the tiles - thankfully neither breaking, nor denting the flooring. Grimacing, he swept it up with his tail and checked over the casing, before the alarming words registered in his head. A glance at the couch showed the human - Max - hadn't moved - still twisted up in their weird, pretzely way, chin in their weird five-fingered hand as they peered at the passing stars with a far-away look in their eyes.

"You, uh, want...chocolate?" He asked, certain he'd misheard.

"Oh my god, yes." Max heaved a sigh, shoulders rising to their weird, inefficient ears before dropping back down. "Jesus, I'd even eat a Hershey's Bar right now."

Gorvan gripped his tablet with two of his hands, hard enough to crack the casing. "Oh, um - what is a 'Hershey'?"

Max didn't look away from the window, still lost gazing into the galaxy. "It's a type of chocolate bar from Earth. Maybe a Mars Bar or a Milky Way would be better..."

Gorvan huffed through his nostrils, tail lashing anxiously behind him. "Oh. Um. I - er, I forgot I have a meeting with Captain! I have to go." Without waiting for an answer he turned and fled the recreation room, hooved feet clattering against the floor, desperate to report what he had heard. He missed the bemused look Max gave him before returning to his star gazing.

🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫

"Max."

The human paused upon entering the meeting room, seeing the rest of the C7H8N4O2 Star Explorer gathered around the table. All eight were tense in their seats, and the moth-like Elaana looked like she'd been crying. (Well, the species equivalent, which appeared as a dusting of pollen along her sharp cheekbones.)

Taurvin, the captain, was sitting in the largest seat at the head of the table, his considerable bulk looming over the rest of them. Oddly, the first-mate seat to his left was empty. Gorvan was instead sitting in Max's own.

"Uh, hey all. We playing musical chairs?" Max glanced between the empty chair and Gorvan, but when nobody asked for an explanation to their odd human reference (a common occurrence), they figured it wasn't the time for jokes.

"Have a seat, Max." Taurvin motioned to the first mate seat and, with a bit of hesitation, Max moved to take it. Luckily Gorvan, despite being bulky himself, wasn't too much larger than a standard human and the chair was comfortable enough. "We have something important to address."

Oh god above, what had they done this time? Max tried to think back to all the interactions he'd had onboard the last few weeks, but couldn't come up with anything too egregious. Sure, there was the whole joke with 'human snot is acidic' thing but that had been more of a gross-out joke for Elaana, the ships medic, who hadn't seemed to upset when he accidentally sneezed on her a few days later and dropped the act. Epitak, the ships engineer, had been pretty pissed when ze found out Max had taken apart the air filtration unit in their quarters to try and understand how it worked, but ze had also walked him through repairing it, so they thought it was all forgiven.

Oh jeeze, had they found the plans to get a kitten onboard under the 'emotional assistance animal' loophole?

"Max." Taurvin's normally jolly voice was grave, and all the crews eyes were on them as he spoke. "It has come to my attention that you have been expressing some...troubling thoughts."

Okay, definitely the kitten thing then. "Look, I can explain," they started, but Taurvin held up a large, three-fingered hand and stopped them.

"I do not want you to feel pressured to speak to us if you do not wish to. As a member of the Intergalactic Exploration Society, you have access to mental health resources at no cost, any time, anywhere. I will be more than happy to assist you in setting up a link to a therapist through HR and, if required, will grant you time off the ship if you need it. You are the best navigator I have ever seen, and I do not want to lose you."

"Well, thanks, but uh, what do you mean?" Max glanced around the table and noticed that their normally upbeat crew were all showing signs of distress (Elaana was brushing away newly fallen pollen from her compound eyes).

"Max, you requested chocolate." Gorvan reminded them. "This morning, you said you would even eat a substance known as a Hershey Bar from your home planet." The human had never heard the first mate sound so distressed. When Max just blinked, Epitak took over, beak clacking anxiously as ze spoke.

"We understand that many planets have government programs in place for self euthanasia," ze explained, technical as always in his word choice, "but we aboard this ship would much rather assist you in healing rather than lose you, despite what you may feel is best for you. Suicide by theobromine is not the way forward."

"...what."

"It's okay, love!" The pollen was flowing freely from Elaana's eyes now, and she blinked it away with her long lashes. If there weren't a table between them, Max was sure she would have bundled them up in a full-wing hug and refused to let them go. "We'll support you through it all, we promise. You're part of our crew - our family, and we never want you to feel otherwise!"

"Well, uh, thanks. I see you all as family too...?" Max glanced at the four remaining crew members. Dhaca and Lenzoill were quiet but obviously upset, Qhals was staring at the ceiling with their fanged muzzle pulled into a tight grimace, and Ir'ith was -

Ir'ith was smirking.

Max narrowed their eyes at the inventory manager who also served as the ships cook (for the simple fact that he was the only one onboard who could cook). The zad merely shrugged when their eyes met, though his grin was growing.

"I think I'm missing something here." Max admitted, looking between Gorvan and Taurvin. "This is all because I got a chocolate craving?"

"A craving?" Elaana almost lunged across the table at the word, the only thing holder her back Ir'ith's hand on her shoulder. "You mean you've had chocolate before?"

"Well, yeah? All the time." Max was not expecting the horrified expressions they received.

"So humans treat theobromine as a drug?" Epitak asked, aghast.

"Noooo...? It's a dessert. Like, a sweet treat." Max had no idea what was going on now, but by the way Ir'ith's shoulders were shaking, he did. "Hershey's is a candy bar."

"Wait," Dhaca finally spoke up, leaning forward and shoving his glasses (well, glass - one lens for one eye and all) to the top of his head, "theobromine is not toxic to humans?"

"I'm assuming that theo-stuff is chocolate?" When Dhaca nodded, Max nodded in return. "Yeah, no, chocolate isn't toxic to humans. I ate it all the time on Earth."

Ir'ith gave up and cackled, sounding a bit like the grackles Max used to watch in their back garden on Earth. The avian's wings flapped a few times as he laughed, having to lean forward and grasp his stomach with taloned claws to keep himself from falling out of his chair. When he finally glanced up at Max, it was to the flattest look the human could manage, which only sent him into another gale of laughter.

Taurvin sighed, pinching the bridge of his boar-like snout. "I believe this has all been a misunderstanding," he spoke over the cooks laughter, which had turned into squeaky gasps. "Dismissed."

A few befuddled glances were thrown Max's way, but the rest of the crew were quick to leave, avoiding Ir'ith's flapping wings as they squeezed out of the room. Soon only the cook, first mate, captain, and navigator were left.

"Sorry, kid." Ir'ith finally came up for breath, wiping at his eyes as he regained his composure. He fished into one of the many pockets that adorned his poncho and produced a bar wrapped in purple foil, which he tossed to Max. The human caught it and felt their whole face light up. "No hard feelings, right?"

"None at all, dude!" Max tore open the wrapping and took a big bite of the Cadbury Dairy Milk Bar, nearly melting at the familiar, sweet flavor exploding on their tongue.

"For the record," Ir'ith said as he stood, cracking his back, "Zad's can eat chocolate to. Let me know next time you have a craving." He sauntered out of the room, humming happily.

The three sat in silence for a moment, other than the crinkle of the chocolate bar wrapper. Finally, Taurvin cleared his throat.

"Max, I apologize for not conferring with you in private beforehand." The captain sighed. "I did not wish to embarrass you, but an intervention was suggested and I believed that comfort from your crew would be the best way to show the seriousness of our support were you truly entertaining the thought of self euthanasia."

The human shrugged. "It was nice to hear you all care about me, even though I've only been on board a few months," they admitted. "And I got chocolate out of it." He wiggled the remains of the bar.

"Still, if you ever feel the need for mental health services, they are available to you. And if there is ever anything I or the rest of the crew can do to assist you in that way, please don't hesitate to ask." Taurvin placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head, a show of sincerity for his people.

"Well," Max tapped the chocolate against their chin in thought, "there may be one thing. Have you ever heard of cats?"

Next: Bluffing

EC Theobromine Character & Worldbuilding Notes

Original Reddit Prompt:

[withahappyrefrain]

took a lil looksie at that smutty prompt list and now i can't stop thinking about jake and a combo of "i've never done something like this before" and "this is a one time thing" 😵‍💫 like you kind of half know him as a friend of a friend and you know the kind of reputation he has but one thing leads to another at a party or like out w friends and suddenly you're hooking up in the back of his stupid jeep swearing up and down that you NEVER do this and how it's just this once and he's just like "awh honey it's cute you think this isn't gonna happen again" bc once you have him once there's simply no coming back from that

It's the stupid backwards cap.

You're so accustomed to seeing him in uniform that when he shows up in jeans, a button up and a backwards snapback, you nearly forget all the stories you've heard.

"It's a trap," Natasha mutters, pulling you away. It was for the best. You heard stories about Bagman. So it was easy to focus on the rest of the party and not the Adonis who just walked in.

At first.

You're trying, honestly. But it's so hard to focus on what Mickey is saying when Jake is right within your line of sight. The can of beer looks small in his hand. And he's got that smile the one where the corners of his green eyes crease. There's a light dusting of stubble on his face, a stark difference from the clean cut shaven look he usually sports.

Shit, is he looking at you?

You turn away, suddenly very interested in the Star Wars show Mickey was rambling about. Your friend can't tell that your nods are artificial, but Bob and Natasha sure can.

"All I'm going to say is that it's Bagman," Bob remarks before walking away, no doubt going back to his favorite corner of the room to watch it all go down.

You know it's fucking Bagman. The dickhead that always gives Bob, Mickey, and Nat something to complain about during your D&D sessions. Hell, after hearing some of the stories, you wanted to punch the man yourself.

You still did want to do that. Just not with your fists. No, you wanted to punch Jake with your lips. On his.

Fuck.

Perhaps a conversation would do the trick. Confidence dripped all over him. He was a damn good pilot, a fact your friends couldn't deny. But surely, one conversation would remind you of all the shit he's pulled, wiping away any and all physical desires you had somehow developed for the guy in the last thirty minutes.

"Hey darlin. I was just about to come over and talk to ya." The sincerity in his voice stops you dead in your tracks.

No, he could not be serious. You even told him so.

And this fucker has the audacity to smile while shaking his head, "Course I do. I've been wanting to meet ya for a while now."

This was not the sleazy, unsavory man you had heard about. They were right about him being a former frat bro. But what they didn't know was that was your exact type.

A rosy pink dusts Jake's face as he explains, "I saw you with Mickey, Bob, and Nat on Instagram. Y'all had just gone to a festival?"

"Comic con," you clarify. He's out of his element when it comes to your hobbies, but the worst part is it seems like he's trying.

"I know who you are." Was it meant to be a statement or a threat? Hell, you didn't even know.

Jake shows zero indication your blunt sentence had any effect. Instead he just smiles as he leans in, his handsome face now inches away from yours.

"I know who you are too." It's just that stupid Texan charm, it means nothing.

"Yeah?" Like a moth to a flame, you lean forward, able to catch the sandalwood of his cologne. He's so tanned, you wonder if his skin is warm, if he's just a walking ray of sunshine.

The thought of touching him, simply brushing your fingers along his arm, flashes through your mind. It's startling, you're not supposed to like Jake Seresin. At least, that's what you've been told.

Turns out, Jake Seresin is charming. He listens and asks the right question. You doubt it's genuine, from what you've heard he's quite the flirt.

He's also quite the kisser. When you two moved to Bradley's porch, you can't say. What you do know is Jake has you pressed up against a wall, his mouth perfectly slotted over yours. And it feels good. His hands explored your body, as if committing to memorize every soft curve.

"I don't do this, just so you know," you blurt out, desperate to get it out before his mouth finds yours again.

Jake's mouth forms into a smirk, "So you're saying I'm special darlin?"

No. He can't be. This is just a one time thing.

You tell him that and he continues to kiss you. You repeat it as you lead Jake to his jeep, your hands greedily exploring his body. He's so muscular and you were expecting him to be clean shaven, only to find soft hair that graced his chest and trailed down to below the waistband of his jeans.

That cursed backwards cap is somewhere on the floor of his Jeep. You're too busy situating yourself into his lap, allowing you access to his neck. The only thing you remember clearly is how he gingerly took your glasses off and placed them in the console.

Your teeth sink into his skin, pulling a strangled groan from his thin pink lips. The sound is like a spell, luring your hips to grind against his.

"I don't- I've never done something like this before," you confess, stilling your body.

"Do you wanna stop?" His voice is unexpectedly soft, his touch gentle as he pushes some hair out of your face.

You should stop. You should get out of this stupid truck, go back to the party and pretend none of this ever happened.

That's the logical thing to do, given what you know about Jake Seresin. But right now, you don't see the cocky, asshole pilot. His green eyes have softened and there's an encouraging smile on his face.

"It's your call darlin," Jake reminds you, thumb drawing circles on your hip.

"This is just a one time thing, okay?" The declaration was more for yourself than him. One hookup wouldn't hurt anyone, as long as it stayed at one.

Jake chuckles, "You're so cute, thinking this will be a one time thing."

Before you can make a remark, his hands pull your hips down to his, allowing you to feel the denim cladded erection against your clothed core.

Fuck.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧Night Moths

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)

Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.

You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.

You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.

And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.

You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity. 

Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.

You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.

The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.

You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick? 

In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even. 

Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.

You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.

You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?

From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.

You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.

"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"

A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.

You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.

His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.

What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.

He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused.  Another stone-like feature of him.

He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.

"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.

"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.

"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke. 

You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.

"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.

"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio. 

You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently.  His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman. 

Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.

When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.

"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.

Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.

"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.

"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."

"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"

"Go ahead."

"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."

Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.

"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.

"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open. 

Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.

In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.

"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."

"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.

Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.

"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.

"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.

He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.

"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..." 

You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…

He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.

A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased. 

"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.

It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.

Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.

"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.

 There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.

"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."

You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.

"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.

"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."

This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.

Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.

"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did. 

You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.

"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"

He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.

Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.

"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.

You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.

He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.

But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.

Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.

Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.

Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.

He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion. 

Pure, raw lust.

"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.

You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-

"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.

A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained,  amused smile.

"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.

It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.

Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.

"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.

"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.

Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.

Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking. 

This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.

He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit. 

On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.

Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside. 

He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.

The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.

He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.

On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.

The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts. 

He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times. 

Nothing new. 

Nothing puzzling, like you had been.

As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.

Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.

The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.

You.

He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes. 

You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.

"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.

"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."

Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.

"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.

"Hell no."

"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."

Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.

This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.

He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights. 

How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.

He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.

He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.

He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.

"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.

You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.

Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?

He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.

Shit!

He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless... 

Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints. 

It was your black shawl.

Tilting his head up, he found you.

You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing. 

Damned party, damned suit, damned you. 

He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast. 

He would catch you, dead or alive.

In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.

"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"

You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.

Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.

Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.

By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

You stayed in the air for a few seconds.

You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.

You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-

A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you. 

Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted. 

You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.

"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.

You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.

Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.

A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.

He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.

You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.

The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.

The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t. 

He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.

Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.

He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing. 

The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.

The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare. 

“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.

You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.

“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.

A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.

“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.

He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.

You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.

You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.

"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it. 

The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.

The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.

His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.

You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.

Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.

Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.

For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.

By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.

"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.

He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.

“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy. 

The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.

You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him. 

Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.

Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.

You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…

“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.

“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.

It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you. 

“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”

He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.

Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.

He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible. 

You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.

Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.

He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.

"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft. 

You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.

"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction. 

He positioned himself in front of your entrance.

You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.

He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey. 

He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.

He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear. 

"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"

Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go. 

Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.

Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it. 

He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.

It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.

"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.

"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!" 

His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.

True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment. 

If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.

The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.

You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.

You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.

“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”

Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.

His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.

"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.

For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.

And that’s how you felt. Boneless.

Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.

He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.

He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.

He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress. 

It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless. 

A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget. 

He didn't want you to forget.

He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.

Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.

"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.

You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him. 

Like a condemnation.

"You won't." 

Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.

"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.

The fucking papers.

A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.

Shit!

He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.

I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱

[alexsoenomel]

Through The Amplifier

Summary: Seeing Metallica with Dean for his birthday 🎶

Based on: THIS

Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, actual smut (but cute fluffy smut), mentions of death, Dean and Reader being nerds

Word count: 8k (I like writing backstories sue me)

Song mentioned (The actual setlist btw): Ride the Lightning,  For Whom The Bell Tolls, Lux Æterna, Until It Sleeps, Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, Moth into Flame,  Wherever I May Roam, Inamorata, Blackened, One and Enter Sandman ( Also Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde by Five Finger Death Punch)

Note: This year I saw one of my favorite bands and finally fulfilled my lifelong dream. I went by myself and had an absolute blast so this idea just came to me.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

“Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Sam?” I said as I pressed the buy tickets button. The website loaded for a couple of seconds before my phone went off. 

“Yeah, I'm sure. I don't listen to Metallica,” Sam told me as I checked my email to see two tickets for Metallica in Inglewood, California in six months.

“How can you NOT listen to Metallica?”

“Not my cup of tea, I guess.” 

“You, Charlie?”

“I don’t like old men in leather,” she simply said, making me chuckle.

To say that I was excited would be an understatement. I was overjoyed, ecstatic, and adrenaline-filled, already mentally preparing for the concert. It was indeed destiny. Metallica was performing two days after Dean's birthday in Inglewood, and since we both shared one dream: seeing them live, I saw it as a sign. Videos from their M72 world tour have bombarded my social media ever since it started, and I decided it was now or never. 

“How much are the tickets?” Sam asked.

I bit my lip and mumbled: “14k.”

“For two tickets?!” Charlie’s eyes widened in disbelief. 

“Each,” I simply said. 

" (Y/N)?! " Sam's gaze was on me, and I could feel it burning. I looked at him and smiled awkwardly, and he gave me a silent look of judgment. 

“I can explain!” 

“I'm listening!” He said, voice as sharp as a knife. 

“You know that rich vampire guy I was sleeping with before we met?” 

“The son of the rich vampire?” 

“Yeah, that one. After we killed them I found his laptop where he kept all of his secrets plus his bank account and asked Charlie to transfer everything to me.” 

“How much?”

“Everything,” Charle said proudly. 

“Untraceable and undetectable thanks to her, so technically it’s not our money,” I added.  

“But wasn't that two years ago?” 

“Yeah, he had a lot of money,” Charlie told Sam as he stared at me connecting the dots.

“That explains why the fridge is always full now.” 

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Charlie said.

I chuckled. 

Sleeping with a vampire was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done. I didn’t know he was a vampire until I woke up one morning in his bed drowsy with two small holes on my neck. By then, I had been a hunter for ten years and The Winchesters were not in the picture yet. I’ve only heard stories about them; some hunters told me that they were monsters in human form, savage, causing chaos wherever they went; and others had kinder words in mind, like heroes, good, impossible to not like. After I realized what he was I was shocked, but not surprised. I had been collecting red flags like baseball cards all of my life, but I’ve never slept with an actual monster. I’ve been with narcissists, egomaniacs, momma’s boys, but never with a vampire. That day I made a mental note: “Never trust guys on dating apps. Sleazy pubs are better for finding sex.”

The day I planned to kill him and his old man was the day that I met the brothers and Charlie. I caught them trying to sneak into the property from the back, since the cameras there weren’t working. I saw them because I was trying to do the same so the servants wouldn’t see me. I could smell hunter’s blood from a mile away and they could too. Sam told me bodies were piling up in LA and I had no idea because they would cover their tracks well and I was too busy having sex with one of the perpetrators. Dean on the other hand was rolling his eyes because he couldn’t believe how reckless and stupid I was. We didn’t start on a good foot whatsoever. He thought I was annoying and I thought he was an obnoxious jerk. That was before we killed the vampire family. 

After we finished the job with minor injuries we went to celebrate –drink. It was Charlie’s idea and I still thank her for that. A few beers later I realized the reason why Dean and I didn’t see eye to eye. It was because we were two sides of the same coin. He was a stubborn nerd with alcoholic tendencies and daddy issues and so was I. And the best part was we both liked the same type of music. Sam and Charlie saw right through us and left after two hours and we stayed and talked for hours. A few more beers and a whole lot of bickering and flirting later, we were fucking in his car like it was our last day on this Earth. I collected one more red flag that night and had too many orgasms. Drunk on sex we both went to his motel room where we had even more sex and barely got any sleep. 

The next morning Sam and Charlie were grinning at us while we were trying to wake ourselves up with caffeine. 

“I see you guys had a lot of fun,” Sam said, noticing our dark cycles. Charlie giggled. 

“Yeah, too much fun,” Dean said, trying to keep his eyes open. 

When it was time to say goodbye and exchange numbers, Charlie had yet another brilliant idea. 

“You should come with us,” she said, leaving the brothers speechless, Dean especially. 

“A hunter alone in a world is a terrible thing,” she told them. 

“Did you just quote Maester Aemon?” I asked her. It was nice meeting a fellow Game of Thrones fan.

“You just became even more awesome!” She said and high-fived me. “She is coming with us, guys!” 

I was indeed alone. I started hunting when my parents got killed by a werewolf when I was 19. I had no extended family just one friend and she had no idea what I was doing in my free time.  

Sam and Dean just stared at each other but naturally agreed since Charlie was running the house and therefore I was moving to Lebanon, Kansas. 

For the first time, I had my room and a place I could call home. The bunker was gray and dark and grew on me rather quickly, but things between Dean and I were strange at first. We both thought we were going to fuck each other’s brains out and never see each other again, but the universe (in this case Charlie) had other plans. He was actively avoiding me until I told him to suck it up and talk to me. We didn’t speak, instead, we were memorizing each other’s scars and moles in different positions…over and over again. We even woke up Sam a couple of times while Charlie was clueless since she slept with headphones.

Slowly, we were falling for each other and each kiss became more fatal than the last and since we now lived together, we were spending every waking moment in each other's presence. It wasn’t until one evening we were drinking and a young handsome guy decided to shoot his shot with me and Dean in a drunken jealous rage told him to piss off when he saw his hand on my hip. When the guy refused to leave me alone Dean punched him in the face and we got kicked out of the bar. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I was about to tell him to fuck off!” I screamed at him and he just stared at me in complete silence. 

“DEAN?”

He came closer and cupped my cheeks with his hands kissing me gently. This time the kiss was different; it wasn’t filled with lust; it was more gentle and vulnerable. His lips were as soft as ever and for the first time I was so painfully aware of them, I wanted him to devour me whole. 

“Why are you such a dick sometimes?” I asked, his face inches away from mine.

“I don’t like when people touch what’s mine,” he said, putting a strand of hair behind my ear. I suddenly became aware of my heartbeat. 

“Since when do I belong to you?” I asked him, trying to keep a cool head even though my body was on fire. We never made it official, but we both knew it was inevitable. 

“Since I belong to you, dickhead,” he said, and from that day on I was his and he was mine. 

***

 I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in love with Dean. We never said the words, maybe because we were too afraid to verbalize our feelings like grownups, but I knew he loved me just as much as I loved him. His eyes would always sparkle whenever we shared eye contact – even when we fought. He fought a lot, but mostly on hunts, because I would never listen to him and he knew better. In the end, we would get the job done and have angry sex to blow some steam. I’d never thought I’d end up dating a male equivalent of me. I could finally say I was happy with my life, even though objectively speaking it was awful 99% of the time. I was thankful for my chosen family and the fact that I got to experience love for the first time. 

***

I had a hard time keeping the secret, but six months later it was time to celebrate his day. Sam, Charlie, and I decided to make everything Metallica-themed. His cake was a classic chocolate cake but the candles were two small guitars one white and one black (one had the number 3 on it and the other one had 6), The frosting was black and had a picture of the band from the 80s when Cliff was still alive. Dean loved Cliff’s bass, so we knew he was going to love the cake. 

“Happy birthday, Dean!” We all said in unison as I was putting the cake on the table in front of him. Dean’s eyes widened, sparkling with delight, as he stared at the cake. His mouth dropped open in a gasp, revealing a grin that spread from ear to ear. His cheeks flushed with a rosy shade, and he could hardly contain the bubbling excitement as his eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It was a moment of pure wonder etched across his face. He blew his candles after we sang Happy Birthday to him and now it was time to open the presents. 

“This is from me,” Sam said and gave him a bag. 

 Dean pulled a black shirt from it. 

It was a beautiful Metallica shirt, a brand new one from their 72 Seasons merch collection with their yellow album cover and Metallica written on the top. 

“Holy crap a Metallica shirt!” Dean said looking at the beautiful design. Sam smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Sam! It’s perfect!” He then added. 

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Sam said and hugged his brother.

“Now it’s my turn!” Charlie exclaimed and gave him her present. 

Dean pulled out a CD and a cassette tape from a small box– their 72 Seasons CD and a limited cassette tape of the same album. 

“Oh my God! Charlie!” Dean was bursting with excitement and my heart was melting. I don’t think I remember the last time I saw him this happy. His inner child was healing mine – he deserved the world.

“One is for your car and the other is for your laptop!” 

Dean immediately jumped from the chair and hugged Charlie as tight as possible. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“You’re welcome, birthday boy.”

Now it was my turn. While he was licking the frosting with his fingers I sent him his ticket. 

Dean was staring at me as I was smiling back at him. 

“Check your phone, handsome,” I told him, trying to contain my excitement. 

Dean's brow furrowed just a touch, creating a faint line across his forehead as he checked his phone to see that he got an email from me. 

“What is this?” He mumbled under his breath and opened it. 

Dean’s face lit up with pure joy as realization washed over him. His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open in a wide grin, showcasing his astonishment, while a breathless laugh escaped him. He looked at me for a second before staring back at his phone.

“ARE YOU FREAKIN’ SERIOUS?” He then asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, and guess what? We will be right in front of the stage,” I said and showed him my ticket on my phone. 

His cheeks flushed with color, and his eyebrows shot up, giving him a look of sheer exhilaration. He could hardly contain himself, there was an almost childlike glee as he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me, completely swept away by the moment. I squealed as he spinned me around like I was a ballerina. It was a mix of shock and joy, a perfect reflection of his excitement to see his favorite band live. When he kissed me my feet hit the ground. 

I knew he would remember his 36th birthday for the rest of his life.

***

We packed our bags the next day and went to the airport. Our flight was at 6 pm, so we arrived around 3 pm after lunch. Sam and Charlie came with us because Dean didn’t want to leave Baby at the airport parking lot. We said our goodbyes and went to check in. 

“Don’t let him do anything stupid,” Sam told me. 

“Don’t worry I won’t! We will be stupid together,” I grinned and Sam looked concerned. 

*** 

The flight was quick and smooth; we didn't even feel it. Since it wasn't my money (well not really) I decided to splurge and booked us two nights in the four-star hotel next to the YouTube Theater where the concert was scheduled. They had a pool, spa, and breakfast buffet, so naturally, I figured Dean was going to appreciate it. 

“I don't have swim trunks, (Y/N),” Dean told me as we were entering our room. 

“Yeah I know, that's why I bought you a pair a couple of weeks ago,” I said.

The room was an epitome of elegance, bathed in warm light from sheer curtains. A plush king-sized bed, adorned with crisp white linens and a couple of soft pillows was calling our names. A sleek nightstand held a vintage lamp in the corner, while a polished desk offered a coffee maker and a big flat-screen TV handing across the bed was screaming Dean’s name. The en-suite bathroom was heaven, featuring a spacious glass shower, complete with fragrant candles and premium toiletries.

Every detail was screaming luxury and I knew I made the right choice.

We put our bags on the floor and I turned to Dean to see him staring back at me. 

“Happy birthday, handsome!” I said and kissed him gently. He immediately pulled me closer to him, closing the gap between us, deepening the kiss, and making me moan a little. I could feel his stubble on my face, his hands on my hips, slowing moving downwards to cup my ass. 

“Shower?” He asked before moving his lips to my neck. 

“Please,” I managed to say. 

After having a quick shower we went to bed and he made love to me until we eventually fell asleep only knowing the sound of each other's names. I loved that man with all my heart and soul. 

***

The next morning we woke up at around 8 am, which was our usual time, and went to have breakfast. 

The breakfast buffet was a sight to see. There were freshly baked pastries like croissants, danishes, and muffins, all warm and inviting. A big bowl of colorful fruits sat nearby, with strawberries, melons, and pineapple ready to be picked.

In another section, you could find hot dishes: scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and plump sausages. There was also a selection of artisanal breads, with butter and a variety of jams to choose from. The drink station had fresh coffee and juices. Dean and I were salivating. 

“Oh, this bacon looks crisp!” Dean said joyfully as he put a handful of bacon on his plate. 

“If monsters don't kill us, high cholesterol sure will,” I chuckled and put a couple of pieces next to my eggs. 

Breakfast of champions: bacon, eggs, fluffy croissants, coffee and for dessert fluffy American pancakes with maple syrup. No matter where we went we would always eat the same thing for breakfast.

“The pancakes are so good, my God!” I said as I stuffed my face.

“I need more bacon!” Dean said and went to get more. 

After breakfast, we ended up taking an hour-long post-breakfast nap.

***

The concert was at 9 pm. After we woke up Dean wanted to go swimming before lunch so I gave him his new and only pair of swim trunks: blue shorts with yellow ducks all over. 

“Seriously?” Dean said, looking at himself in the mirror next to our bed.

“I look ridiculous.”

I tried so hard not to laugh.

“It was either ducks or small purple dildos.” 

Dean's face went blank as he looked at himself once more.

“Ducks are good.” 

I, on the other hand, bought a black bikini that was perfect for my body. The sleek design highlighted my figure, and the black color added a touch of elegance. I was oozing confidence and sexiness and Dean couldn't get enough of it. His gaze never left my body and it was filled with admiration and affection. His expression was a mix of pride and appreciation. He was on another planet.

“Dean?” 

“Um?” He asked, his eyes still fixed on my figure, his mouth partially opened. 

“Your gun is showing.” 

He looked down and saw what I meant. 

“Crap!”  

“Let me take care of that before we go!” I chuckled and pointed to the bed. 

***

The pool was nice and big. After an hour of fucking like rabbits we went for a swim only to realize we were too exhausted to do anything with our bodies, so we went to the sauna. 

In the sauna, my skin felt like it was being enveloped in a warm embrace. The heat made me aware of every pore, and I could feel the sweat starting to bead up and trickle down. It was both soothing and invigorating; my skin felt alive, flushed with warmth. 

“I can't believe you planned all of this,” Dean said and closed his eyes, enjoying the sweat dripping from his skin.

I wanted to say it. I wanted to say those goddamn words, but I bit my tongue once more. 

“I know, I'm the best,” I said proudly, while in the back of my mind the sentence "Love makes you do crazy things" echoed over and over again. 

***

Lunch time, another post food nap and it was time to get ready. Dean wore his usual: jeans, a new Metallica shirt he got from Sam, a leather jacket, and combat boots. I decided it was time to turn myself into a rock’n’roll bombshell. I was going to wear leather black pants, Dean's old Ride the Lightning shirt I “borrowed” and never gave it back, and my staple: black Dr. Martens. I did my hair all nice and curly, and my makeup was a bit over the top and not something I usually do.

I was standing in front of the mirror as I started with a flawless matte base, then created a smokey eye with deep blacks and a dramatic wing. Thick eyeliner and voluminous false lashes (that I bought just for this occasion) made my eyes pop. I swiped on dark, matte plum lipstick and defined my brows to frame my face.

A touch of contour enhanced my cheekbones, and I added a hint of shimmer to my inner corners. Feeling powerful and sexy I was ready to heal my inner child with the love of my life. 

“How do I look?” I asked Dean as I put on my leather jacket. 

He bit his lower lip and scanned every inch of me in a second.

“Freakin’ gorgeous,” he exclaimed, making me blush. 

He was never shy to give me compliments and show me how attracted he was to me. Even in pajamas, dying from period cramps, and crying because my favorite ice cream was sold out, he would still tell me how amazing and pretty I was. Like I said, I loved that man with all my heart and soul, it was pathetic and beautiful.

I kissed him and we were on our way. 

We came four hours earlier at around 5 pm, a few minutes before they opened the gates and let us in. In an hour Ice Nine Kills was going to perform and after them Five Fingers Death Punch. When we came in, the pit was already filled with people, but it wasn't full yet. We found a spot just a few inches from the stage. My heart was pounding, I couldn't believe I was there, while Dean was squeezing my hand tightly not wanting to let go. 

“Do you want a beer?” Dean asked me. 

“I don't think that's a good idea. If we drink we will have to go and if we have to go we will abandon this perfect spot. A lot of people are already coming in.” 

Dean nodded.

“Water?”

“That will do,” I agreed, considering we would be standing probably until midnight, staying hydrated was important.

He left to buy us two cups and came back after five minutes. The space was already getting crowded and I was growing impatient. 

“I still can't believe we are here,” he told me. He was buzzing with excitement, eyes shining and bouncing on his heels. 

“Do you think they will play Enter Sandman?” I asked him. 

“I hope so. Pops used to play that song all the time in the car when I was a kid. Sam hated it.” 

“My dad used to sing me that song whenever I couldn't fall asleep. I was a lousy sleeper but for some reason, that song would always put me into a coma.”

I told Dean as I remembered how much I missed my old man.

“You're still a lousy sleeper,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. 

“Yeah, because now I cannot sleep without you,” I said and kissed his cheek. I always had trouble sleeping, going to bed after 3 am, waking up at 3 pm, tossing and turning, nightmares, and so on… until I started sleeping next to him. I was never a big cuddler, especially since I would always feel uncomfortable whenever someone would try to hold me while I slept, but with him it was different. I would sleep like a baby next to him, he was home to me. His heartbeat was my white noise and his warmth was my safe space. 

He smiled back at me and at that moment the show began. 

Ice Nine Kills was…something else. Dean and I were trying to decide if we liked the music or not, but one thing we agreed on was: that we LOVED the performance. Gore, blood, and chainsaws were all far too familiar, but we especially loved horror references. The music was not bad, but considering we were both classic rock fanatics it wasn't something we would actively listen to. 

“I love the Nightmare on Elm Street reference,” I commented after they finished the first song. 

“Not bad,” Dean agreed as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and pulled me closer. 

We were jamming to songs we'd never heard before. People around us were either utterly confused or dancing and head-banging like it was their last day on Earth. 

“Oh! That's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” Dean said in my ear. 

“I know,” I laughed, but I don't think he heard me considering the music was pounding in my ears. 

After a good hour, they were done. The crowd was growing impatient again and so were we. 

“Five Finger Death Punch is next!” I said and took a sip of my almost empty cup of water. 

“I'm kinda excited about that.”

And to be honest I was too. We heard a couple of their songs like Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde and instantly fell in love with the singer's voice. Dean even said the vocalist sounded a lot like David Draiman of Disturbed and I definitely could hear that. 

We were waiting for what felt like hours and my legs started to hurt. I forgot what it felt like standing for so long; the last time I went to a concert I was 16 and my family was still alive. Dad took me to see Deep Purple, it was an unforgettable day. 

Five Finger Death Punch came at exactly 8 pm. The band made everyone jump and scream. Their energy was unmatched and the vocalist was giving his all. His voice was strong. The guitarist even threw a couple of picks and Dean almost caught one.

“Damn it!” He shouted. 

“Don't worry, maybe you will catch one from Kirk later.” 

We all completely lost it when they closed the show with the iconic song Dean and I both loved: Jekyll and Hyde. I was singing my heart out with my man and the rest of the crowd while the singer was jumping around the stage. This whole band had such a strong presence, and I decided to check their other stuff after the show. 

"Thank you all for being an incredible audience! Your energy means the world to us. I hope you enjoyed the show as much as we loved performing for you. It was an honor to open for one of the greatest bands to ever exist! Enjoy the rest of the show and be safe!” The singer said and the whole stadium screamed and clapped. 

“DAMN RIGHT!” Dean yelled and I smiled. 

Seeing Dean so at peace with life and enjoying the present moment made my heart flutter. That man deserved the world and even though I couldn't give him one where he was truly happy (mainly because that would require him to leave hunting behind and he would never do that) I could still make his world a little bit brighter. 

I turned around and kissed him, leaving a smudge of lipstick on his perfectly full lips. 

“Are you ready?” I asked him whipping the stain from his lips with my thumb. 

Dean grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Abso-freakin’-lutely!” 

People around us were shouting, screaming, and clapping from excitement, and some people went to get more beer, and pee before the show– it was a beautiful chaos around us. 

“My legs are killing me already,” Dean complained, trying to stretch as much as he could in the sea of people. 

“Yeah, mine turned to stone,” I said and checked my phone only to see they were 20 minutes late. Being late was my biggest pet peeve; even the legendary band that was Metallica didn’t have an excuse. I groaned silently and looked at the empty stage again. I was impatient and filled with adrenaline; ready to sing my heart out, but at the same time I was missing the hotel bed. 

Ten minutes later, our favorite chaotic drummer appeared, sending the whole stadium into a state of pure excitement and borderline madness. He waved and then Robert and Kirk appeared with their guitars and big smiles on their faces. The crowd was cheering even louder. 

“Kirk’s hair is fabulous!” I told Dean, while we were clapping. 

“Yeah, Sam should take some notes!”

And finally, there he was, in the flesh, our favorite voice and my favorite silver fox: James. I've had a crush on James ever since I was a little girl and seeing him right in front of me in his black leather pants, black boots, black shirt, and his beautiful gray beard and hair made my heart beat faster. The man had the presence of a God and I was his loyal worshiper. 

“Oh my God! IT'S HAPPENING!” Dean yelled and hugged me from behind. 

As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted, Dean and I felt a surge of adrenaline once again. The opening chords of Ride the Lightning sliced through the air, and we couldn’t contain ourselves. With a wild grin, Dean threw his fists in the air, the pulse of the music igniting a fire within him. I was too starstruck to sing, my voice too shy to come out as I was standing there with my phone in the air trying to record a video with my shaky hands. It was my dad's favorite song and I wanted to immortalize this very moment.

Meanwhile, Dean was transported into another dimension. He swayed to the heavy riffs, shouting the lyrics as they echoed around him. Each note was a release, a reminder of the thrill of being alive. At that moment, we were just fans—no monsters, no worries—lost in the pure magic of live music.

“GOOD EVENING INGLEWOOD! ARE YOU READY TO HAVE SOME FUN?” James' voice was powerful with a gravelly timbre that conveyed excitement. We all screamed and with that, they started playing the second song. 

“HOLY SHIT!” I yelled when I realized it was indeed For Whom The Bell Tolls.

As the iconic opening riff surged through the venue, Dean’s heart raced. He felt the familiar rush of nostalgia wash over him, memories of late nights with Sam on the road in the Impala echoing in his mind. The deep, heavy chords resonated in his chest, and he instinctively raised his fists, the crowd's energy fueling his excitement. 

With each thundering beat, he found himself singing along. His grin widened, and he couldn’t help but sway with the music, lost in the moment. For Dean, it wasn’t just a song; it was a reminder of everything he fought for—the bond with his brother, the battles they faced, and the moments of joy amidst the chaos. This was rock and roll at its finest, and he was right where he belonged.

 I, on the other hand, was trying so hard not to cry. The haunting melody of For Whom the Bell Tolls wrapped around me, pulling at my heartstrings. I felt a mix of exhilaration and nostalgia, the weight of the moment overwhelming as memories flooded back—times spent with my family, laughter shared, my mom telling my dad to turn the volume down. Oh, how I missed my parents at that very moment! The intensity of the crowd, the energy of the band, and the raw emotion in the music made it hard to hold back tears. It was a cathartic release. Dean was standing behind me pulling me closer with one hand as I was holding onto his index finger. I wiped my tears and sang my heart out for my mom and dad and after they finished the song I was left with a slight pain in my right ear. I might have forgotten to bring earplugs, but the truth was I didn't want to nor cared about protecting my ears from potential damage. To quote Dean: “Metallica is too good for earplugs.” 

After bringing back so many good memories it was time to mix it up and play something from their newest album.

The melody of Lux Æterna hit me like a bolt of electricity. It opened with a powerful, aggressive guitar riff that instantly raised the tension in the air. As the verses rolled in, the haunting yet energetic melody intertwined with a sense of urgency. When the chorus exploded, the vocals soared, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and defiance. I was completely engulfed in the sound, feeling every note resonate deep within me, embodying everything I loved about Metallica as Dean pulled me closer to him while we were jumping in sync. 

“Lux Æternaaaaaaaaa!” We would sing completely out of tune with James. 

As Lux Æterna blared through the speakers, the crowd became a living entity, energy surging with every note. Fans pumped their fists and sang along, their voices rising in a powerful roar. Some swayed with eyes closed, while others jumped, danced, and headbanged, united in exhilaration. 

“You guys are amazing!” James said. He was covered in sweat and I was salivating. The man was a definition of aging like fine wine and my daddy issues were showing. 

I turned to Dean who was hypnotized, his eyes never leaving the stage. 

"Would you give me a hall pass if I cheated on you with James?"

Dean arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his face. “James, huh?”

Amusement in his eyes, he added. “If you think I’m letting you run off with a rock star, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Really?” I smirked.

“You’re mine—rock star or not.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s reaction. “You think I’d leave you for James Hetfield? Really?” I teased, arching an eyebrow. His playful jealousy was endearing, and it warmed my heart.

Dean smirked, leaning in with that familiar teasing glint in his eyes. “Just making sure you know where my head’s at,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of seriousness.

“Rock star or not, I’m the one who gets to take you home.” He chuckled, and I could see the warmth in his gaze. “It’s you and me against the world, always.” At that moment, I felt a rush of affection, knowing our bond was stronger than any fleeting fantasy.

As the opening notes of Until It Sleeps fill the venue, the crowd erupts into a frenzy, a sea of raised fists. The energy was electric, and I felt the pulse of the music vibrating through me as everyone swayed together, singing along with wild abandon.

Beside me, Dean’s face lit up with pure joy, his excitement infectious. I glanced at him, my heart swelling with happiness, knowing this moment was deepening our connection. Surrounded by the thrumming bass and the roar of the crowd, I realized this night will be one we’ll always treasure. The crowd swayed around us, but at this moment, it was just us. He sang every word with fervor, and I couldn't help but join in.

The set list was out of this world: Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, and Moth into Flame are just a few they chose. 

During Wherever I May Roam Dean and I were screaming every word so hard that I knew our vocal cords would hate us later. We would usually listen to that song after every successful hunt. It became a staple, a reminder of why we do what we do, and a beacon of hope. 

“HOLY SHIT!” I shouted at him with a huge grin on my face.

“HOLY SHIT!” Dean shouted back and kissed me.

The band was looking so good.

I loved seeing Robert jamming with the fans with his signature long and beautiful braids while absolutely nailing every note on his base and Kirk just being Kirk and owning the stage in his green leather jacket. Lars was an absolute beast even at 60 years old. 

When they started playing Inamorata, James took his time to walk around the stage while playing his guitar and smiled at us all. I could see his face as clear as day: his blue eyes had that sparkle of happiness; he had been doing this for decades and you could still see how much it made him overjoyed to see people enjoying his band's music, his smile was infectious and captivating and I couldn't believe he was standing right in front of me. 

I turned to see Dean – he was completely mesmerized, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, staring at James as if he were witnessing a miracle. I chuckled softly, knowing he was the happiest man alive. It was beautiful to see this vulnerable side of him, and I couldn’t help but lean closer, sharing in his joy as the music enveloped us.

The next two songs were Blackened and One. To be completely honest I forgot about Blackened. I was so high on adrenaline, oxytocin, and serotonin that I couldn't remember the song and I was too embarrassed to ask Dean about it. I knew it was an old song, a classic, and I knew Dean would give me a death stare so I kept my mouth shut and listened to him sing (yell). 

After the forgotten song James and his bandmates decided to rip our hearts out.

The ominous sounds of distant gunfire and explosions played through the speakers and the crowd fell into a hushed reverence. The chilling audio of war set an intense backdrop for the song that used to make me cry. The moment I recognized the opening notes of  One, a thrill shot through me, and I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation. It was as if the world around me faded away, leaving only the haunting melody that resonated with the depths of my soul. I never thought I would hear this song live. My dad showed me the music video when I was eleven (my mother was furious, and thought it was inappropriate) and I cried my eyes out, but loved the song. I rarely listen to that song though, it was too raw and reflected sorrow and despair in a way I knew far too well. 

Dean took my hand and placed a soft kiss as James started to sing. I pulled him by his shirt and kissed him, wanting this moment to last forever. He cupped my face pulling me closer, ignoring the sound of people around us screaming the lyrics. It was just me and him, always. 

When I broke the kiss I was inches away from his face. 

As the crowd roared and the lights pulsed, I turned to Dean, adrenaline still rushing through me. With One echoing around us, I blurted out, “I love you.”

Time froze as surprise washed over his face, vulnerability breaking through his bravado. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music. At that moment, amidst the chaos, I saw that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared of love as he was of losing it.

His eyes locked onto mine, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice softening amidst the music.

Before I could respond, he pulled me close, his arm wrapping around my waist. “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear.

At that moment, surrounded by the concert’s chaos, everything felt right. 

Throughout the concert, I took a couple of videos and even got a picture of James shredding his guitar for my new phone wallpaper, but nothing could prepare me for the next song.

“ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?” James said as the opening riff of Enter Sandman sliced through the air, the arena exploded into a frenzy of energy. Lights flashed in sync with the relentless beat, illuminating faces filled with exhilaration. The heavy guitar reverberated through my body, a primal force that united the crowd in a shared heartbeat.

“DEAN!” I shouted, jumping up and down in excitement. 

“I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW!” He screamed. 

Everyone was singing, fists pumping, the raw intensity of Metallica's sound creating a charged atmosphere that felt almost electric. It was a moment of pure chaos and exhilaration, where the music enveloped us, and nothing else mattered.

Suddenly giant yellow and black balls began to fall from above, bouncing energetically into the crowd. They bounced and rolled, creating an atmosphere of pure chaos and fun. Fans reached up, trying to catch them, laughter and cheers erupting as the balls added an unexpected burst of excitement to the already electrifying performance. The sight of those bright, playful orbs amidst the intensity of the music created a surreal, unforgettable experience. One fell on us too as we jumped with other people making it fly to our left. I was trying to take a video but my hand was shaking while I couldn't stop jumping next to Dean screaming and feeling my throat slowly tighten. 

Kirk nailed his solo, while his hair stayed fabulous and James was getting himself ready for the big finale. 

“Hush, baby, don't say a word,”

“And never mind that noise you heard,”

“It's just the beasts under your bed,”

“In your closet, in your head!” 

Dean and I were screaming at each other's faces, filled with nothing but love for one another. 

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Grain of sand!”

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Take my hand!”

“We're off to never-never land, yeah”

James voice was so raw, so strong, I was still trying to figure out how he was 61 years old. 

“Boo!”

“Yeah-yeah!”

“Yo, whoa!” 

The song ended. I was already getting sad because I knew it was the end. I checked my phone and it was almost midnight. 

The song finished and we all cheered and clapped wanting more.

I heard people yell encore, but after 15 songs they were done. Lars threw his drumsticks at us and someone behind us caught it. He said thank you but the crowd was so loud I couldn't hear him. Until he got in front of the microphone and said: “You were amazing tonight! Thank you for coming!” 

We all screamed even louder. Robert came and tossed a couple of picks and people in front of us were fighting to catch it. He threw five picks in total, covering every part of the pit.

“Come on! I want one!” Dean yelled. We were all still clapping. 

“Wait for Kirk! We are close!” I told him. 

He indeed came next and blessed fans with a couple of picks, but Dean was now too close to catch one and it flew right above his head…

“DAMN IT!” 

James, covered in sweat and looking like a God came right in front of us. I was standing there, completely ignoring Dean and trying to remember every corner of that man's face. While I was in Neverland and watching James throw his picks I didn't even register Dean screaming my name. 

“(Y/N)!” 

“Huh?” I snapped back finally and saw him holding a small white pick that had White Fang written on it.

“OH MY GOD!” I yelled. 

“I DID IT!” He yelled back. 

I loved seeing my man truly happy. I loved that band and I loved everything about that day. 

***

Getting out of the venue was a nightmare. The crowd surged around us, bodies jostling and voices blending into a chaotic mix of excitement and exhaustion. I clung to Dean’s arm, grateful for his steady presence as we stepped into the cool night air.

“That was insane,” I said, smiling up at him. He grinned back, eyes still shining with adrenaline. As we navigated through the sea of fans, I felt a rush of happiness, knowing we had shared something truly unforgettable.

“That was incredible!” Dean exclaimed, his voice full of energy. “ Best night ever! Best birthday ever!” His smile widened as he looked at me, clearly still buzzing from the concert. 

My legs were in pain, I was thirsty and sleepy but it was all worth it. 

We were back in our hotel room 10 minutes later, both covered in sweat ready to sleep. 

I took off my clothes right away, feeling like my legs were on fire. 

“I'm in so much pain!” I complained. 

“I cannot feel my legs!” Dean said. 

“I'm gonna shower. Wanna join?” I was in my underwear standing next to him waiting for him to stop staring at my boobs.

“Coming!” He simply said and started taking off his pants while his eyes never left my boobs. I loved the fact he loved my body. I, like any woman in this cruel “man's world” sometimes would look at myself in the mirror and just hate what was staring back at me. His little stares were a strong reassurance that I was bullshitting.

Usually, showers meant fooling around (shower sex was complicated), but we were too tired for anything but kisses. We lazily washed ourselves in silence, kissing each other here and there. 

“So you love me, huh?” He smirked between kisses. I just smiled at him as the warm water was pouring down my back. 

“Yeah, imagine that! You're loveable,” I said as I was shampooing his hair. His eyes were closed but his mouth formed a small o. 

“Well…” 

“Shut up!” I told him. 

After we were all nice and clean it was time to finally get some sleep. I put on a clean pair of underwear and Dean's old Led Zeppelin shirt I also “borrowed” and he put on a clean pair of black boxers. 

We snuggled underneath the blanket, my head resting on his chest, feeling my body slowly relaxing and falling asleep. 

“You really think I'm loveable?” Dean asked, suddenly. I was half asleep, but this question tore my heart a little and now I was wide awake. I knew he thought he was unworthy of love, unlovable, unclean and it made me incredibly sad, especially because he was the definition of a hero with a heart of gold. 

“It’s hard to not fall in love with you, Dean. If you could only see yourself through my eyes, you would understand,” I told him and lifted my head and kissed him, but this time deepening the kiss. I was tired, and my body was in pain, but the urge to be close to him, to love him, was consuming me. He moaned into the kiss and immediately got on top of me. My hands went in his damp hair. 

We kissed for a while, our souls intertwined, our bodies keeping each other warm before his hand went into my now wet panties, his finger entered me making me arch my back, moaning even louder into the kiss. I was still in pain, but Dean's touch was slowly healing me until all I could feel was pleasure and love. His finger suddenly left my panties and I was left needy and desperate, but he wasted no time and took off his boxers, his dick fully hard. “Lift your hips, sweetheart!” He demanded and I did, letting him take off my underwear. 

He kissed me again before he positioned himself between my legs and entered me. I was so wet and desperate that I took him all instantly. 

“You feel so good!” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy, sending shivers down my whole body. I dug my nails into his back as he started to move, light moans escaping my lips.

We were one. One soul, two bodies, always. 

“Dean!” I moaned pathetically over and over again as his pace became more erratic. I was so close, so so close.

“God, I love when you say my name!” He managed to say as his face was buried in my neck. “Say it again!” He said and slammed into me. 

“FUCK, DEAN!” I screamed, digging my nails into his back, even harder. I could feel the orgasm coming like a tidal wave. 

“Oh God!” He moaned into my ear and slammed into me over and over again. 

My toes curled, my whole body stiff as my skin was covered in goosebumps. An intense wave of electricity rushed through me as I came so hard I could see stars. Dean didn't stop until he came into me, filling me up completely. I'll have to worry about potential pregnancy tomorrow since we completely forgot the concept of condoms. 

We were both breathless, covered in sweat, and panting in each other's faces. 

“Best birthday ever?” I asked him.

“Best birthday ever,” he smiled. 

I was not ready to check out tomorrow. I was not ready to board that plane and say goodbye to this hotel room. I was not ready for this to end. 

As I was laying on his chest, slowly drifting away with my thoughts and as my body relaxed and felt heavier with each passing minute, Dean was playing with my hair and before I started dreaming I heard him whisper:

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” 

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons the Mothman should die, collectively written by the residents of the Hazbin Hotel:

Coding for Characters: Vaggie, Charlie, Pentious, Alastor, Niffty, Husk, pretty much everyone

TW: References to abuse

He’s holding back Angel’s progress. (Vaggie, is killing really necessary?) (I am concerned about going after a Vee)

I’m hungry (ALASTOR!)

Ms. Angel gets nervous when on the phone with him.

His coat is tacky.

He’s a bug! And bugs must be DESTROYED!

So Angel stops feeling like he has to be so damn fake. This is getting on my fucking nerves.

HE LICKED CHARLIE!!! (Vaggie, wait it’s okay.)

Color scheme sucks. Purple AND red?!

He makes Angel sad, NOBODY should make Angel sad.

Those obnoxious glasses just make him look stupid.

He’s a manipulative, abusive prick.

ANGEL DIDN'T KNOW BOUNDARIES WERE A THING?!?!?!?!?!? (Honestly that explains a lot.)

NOBODY deserves to be in an abusive relationship.

Too many arms. Nobody needs that many. (...Angel has that many?) (Well maybe he shouldn't.)

Ms. Angel keeps coming home all messy!!

He’s ruining hearts for everyone. Me and Angel already have enough. At least those are on our bodies, what’s his excuse?

Hearts should not even be ASSOCIATED with Valentino, THIS IS NOT LOVE.

I can do without all the sexual depravity. While I am in Hell this is NOT one of the reasons.

If I have to hear that ringtone one more damn time-

The Eggies found some of his films. They should never be exposed to such horrors. Now I have to explain what “a sex” is.

Makes picture shows that are a disgrace to the idea of “entertainment.”

He’s making a bad name for Uncle Ozzie. This is NOT “lust.”

So we don’t have to listen to another one of Angel’s pornos. (Agreed, it’s quite horrifying!!)

So Ms. Angel isn’t tired when she gets home and can save the kinky stuff for then :) (Niff, really?)

So the kid stops coming home with bruises and cuts that I fix up at 3 am. (Husk, what the fuck?)

Because what the FUCK Valentino?

He keeps forcing Angel to do drugs. (HE WHAT?! Like crack??) (That but also I’m pretty sure whatever comes out of him is an aphrodisiac.)

I want to use his antenna as a backscratcher

Has that whole red color thing going on. Only I am allowed to wear red :) (Al, your text isn’t even red.) (My what?)

What is up with his red spit and smoke? Seriously disgusting.

The red stuff from him may be what allows Velvette to create her “Love Potions” which funds Vax’s stupid endeavors (Do you mean Vox?) (Who?)

FOR MY COLLECTION :D (…yeah okay.)

Really is making a bad name for Overlords. And not in the fun way.

Angel’s shown trauma signs of abuse in our meetings. Im pretty sure it’s Valentino.

Make a doll out of his fur so I have a main villain for roach puppet shows!!!

His only purpose is to keep Veks occupied but considering Vixen’s inane attempts to catch my attention it isn’t working.

So Angel can have his soul and he and Husk can run off into the sunset together like in a fanfiction!!! (Ah, yes that would be nice.) (WE WHAT?!) (Oh Husker, denial doesn’t suit you.)

So Angel can get a good boyfriend THAT’S NOT ME to stop these bullshit allegations.

So Angel can admit his feelings to Husker because our cat surely isn’t going to be the first to do it. (ALASTOR I SWEAR TO GOD!)

Who knows how many other people he’s abusing.

Seems to give Vicks confidence. He has enough of that as is. It much more fun to destroy him.

He makes Angel sad which makes Cherri sad!

HE HIT ANGEL!!!

Called my dear Rosie an "old hag" NOBODY CALLS ROSIE AN OLD HAG.

Angel is a good friend and deserves so much better.

I’ve forgotten what moths taste like.

He keeps trying to get Angel to move out :(

Told the kid he had to lose weight. What the actual FUCK. (Ill kill him.)

He’s annoying and looks quite stupid. How has this not been added yet?!

He’s making a bad name for Spanish speakers everywhere. (Yeah it’s embarrassing.) (Wait… what?)

He’s making a bad name for pansexuals everywhere.

He’s making a bad name for wing-holders everywhere. (HE HAS FUCKING WINGS?!) (Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you?)

Too tall. This is ridiculous.

Won’t admit he’s blind so he’s become even more of a public safety hazard.

If I get one more transmission of him and Box commiting lascivious acts someone will be eaten. I don’t care who. What the purpose of these are I don’t know. Advertisement? (I think it’s to make you jealous boss.) (Ha! Jealous of what? Mediocre sex with a pathetic excuse for a businessman with a TV as a head?)

Because Angel deserves fucking better.

[achelouise]

my love, my muse —kaveh

fandom: genshin

pairing: kaveh x reader!

a/n: i just realized i hadn’t written for kaveh, which is a crime against humanity. also kaveh x muse!reader brainrot sjzjjwjzjqjjajajajh (also switching formats, iiiiiii have no idea what im doing, can you tell)

— student!kaveh, who, even though loathed and respected his project partner to bits, would rather die than ever try to draw him for an assignment. “don’t even think about it,” he hisses, just as alhaitham quirks an unimpressed eyebrow. he understands that he has many friends and acquaintances that are willing to pose for him, but a small voice in the back of his head needles at him- telling him that no, we cannot create art with them as our muse. and to him, nothing is more important than making sure every single artwork he produces is with the utmost sincerity.

— student!kaveh, whose resolve crumbles bit after bit as the deadline creeps up, with no model to look for in sight, and is starting to think perhaps he should turn to his volunteering friends after all. he cannot compromise his diligence for his passion as a scholar, and so he heads to pupsa café, hoping to buy some coffee to prepare for his all-nighter that night.

—student!kaveh, who doesn’t even realize he’s pouting until he hears a cheery, unfamiliar voice bring it up- and he tilts his head up to find that he spilled all the coffee in his mouth onto his shirt (much to your alarm).

“you,” he gurgles, “you’re the muse i’ve been looking for!”

“excuse me?”

— perhaps he was a bit sleep-deprived, which explained his lack of inhibition, but student!kaveh latches onto you like a moth to a flame, stars swirling in his eyes. are you a student of the akademiya? which darshan are you from? which nation were you from to bless you with such beautiful eyes? could you be his muse? he asks them all, because he has to know.

— student!kaveh, who only later apologizes for his overbearing first-impression, while swearing up and down he wasn’t like that usually, and explaining his current predicament. perhaps you pitied him, or found him quite charming- whichever it was, you accepted his proposal to be his muse in exchange for some funds, much to his delight.

“thank you, thank you, oh, thank you! my assignment won’t be so lifeless after all!”

— student!kaveh, who arranges a time and place for you at his dorm with a sense of bravery he has absolutely no idea where he picked up from. when you come in with the most random set of outfit he’s ever seen, he chooses to hold back his tongue over your enthusiastic participation.

“sit tight!” he says, holding comically large canvas whose shadow swallowed up the whole room, “relax, and do whatever your heart tells you to do.”

— student!kaveh, who usually simply sketches things out of pure photographic memory, starts simple and structured for once. where would the chair go? where would you sit? would you look too stretched out if the table properties next to you weren’t matching? where should he exaggerate? how would the chandelier be hanging to get the perfect lighting? how would the painting behind you affect the composition?

— student!kaveh, who usually lets his hand dance on his canvas, plans everything out this time, and lets his mind flourish under the guidance of your radiant beauty. your soft smile, your relaxed posture, and your twinkling eyes lets him have fun- and he finds joy in drawing backgrounds, especially the furniture, for once- to emphasize the way you pose.

— student!kaveh, who drinks an ungodly amount of coffee every night and lets his sheer will do the rest, stops by in the kitchen to make you some snacks. he worries for you; “are you alright? is this posture tiring you? do you want water? i can get some for you. do you want some snacks, too? we can take a break. i don’t have much here, but i can always make a quick trip to the market.”

— student!kaveh, who finds joy in conversation with you while he works. you seem to harbor a decent amount of knowledge fitting for a scholar. if you talk about other subjects, kaveh’s more than willing to listen. if you enjoy studying architecture, that’s fine too! whatever the topic is, you both seem to have an endless stream of opinions and discussions to open up about, and watching your mouth run off on any particular topic brings him much satisfaction. it is always fascinating to understand another person deeply interested in a subject.

— student!kaveh, who starts to explore other color schemes in order to find the perfect one for you. your radiance is something that should be brought out and emphasized on his canvas, something future generations can look at and admire. maybe a bit of pink for the shadow? how about purple to shade your hair instead of gray? would yellow compliment your shoes? he thinks of them all, dabbling in this and that, until his palette blooms in different smears of colors.

— student!kaveh, who is willing to go on a rant to explain how you were the perfect muse, how your smile made his hand itch to draw it out, how your eyes crinkled and held the weight of your soul, how- oh. did he say muse? would you like to be? kaveh doesn’t mind in the slightest if you could continue to. in fact, how about he treats you to a nice meal tonight? the sun is setting, anyway, and it’ll be his way of saying thank you. (please say yes.)

— student!kaveh, who, after half an hour of deliberation on whether parting his bangs in a certain angle would make him look more presentable or not, shows up that night at the venue with a small sketchbook in his hands, telling you not to worry about it. every time your lips turn a certain way, or when the light hits your hand just right, he frantically sketches it down underneath the table, much to your confusion.

“did you enjoy the meal? hm? that? oh, it’s nothing. please, go on. you said something about how your friend could aether-edit?”

it was a pleasant time, despite him constantly dodging your questions on what in teyvat’s name he’s doing, and believing the constant rush he feels inside his head whenever you laugh is perfectly normal. you’re his muse, aren’t you? it’s only natural.

(and if the dinner spreads any rumors- well, kaveh thinks it’s normal to feel giddy, too.)

— student!kaveh, who, when looking at his graded paper days later, is pleased to know it is graded with high praise. the professor even commented on how he is finally starting to get a firm grasp on studying basic anatomy of architecture. (hmph. he thinks he was pretty good at anatomy up until then as well, but okay.) good- he’s put a lot of effort into that painting.

— student!kaveh, who insists on thanking you for the high grade again, the next time you run into each other- only this time with a bouquet of flowers, and a blush on his face.

[liveontelevision]

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

!Taglist!

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee @0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid )

[hxzbinwrites]

Yayyy! Vox was who I wanted to make a request for so I was thinking what if female reader is an overlord who deals with weapons that can kill sinners and hellborn. Maybe she is also an owner of a nightclub? maybe she died in the 1920s and she knew Alastor as well and maybe she’s had a crush on him but he’s not interested in her so then she goes and she dates Vox but then she catches him positioned with Val and she doesn’t know the extent how Valentino is abusing Vox so then fast forward 7 years later and they meet again because she’s helping Alastor and of course that makes Vox jealous and angry and Vox just wants her back and he’ll do anything to show her that he changed and he just wants her back. And maybe he explains how Val treated him and then a happy ending heheh. 🤭 I love your stories. Also maybe reader is badass and is like doesn’t need a man because she got herself but she also loves when Vox protects her? Kinda like that song on TikTok from Olivia Rodrigo that goes “I’m a feminist obviously but I wouldn’t really mind him saving me”

Vox x Fem! Overlord! Weapons Dealer! Reader | Stayed Gone

(A/n): IM BACCKKKK!!! Sorry this is kind rushed, but it was a really fun write!!! I’m promise I’ll get working on more requests but i’m gonna take it easy to slide back into writing after my little break! Thank you to all of those who supported me through this!! ❤️❤️

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is OOC, Cheating, Violence, Short (sorry :( )

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” (Y/n) said, throwing a wine glass across the room, particularly aiming at the TV who was caught in the act with a certain moth.

“(Y/n), babe, ‘ts not what it looks like I swear-“

“Oh really?” She said, a venomous lilt in her voice,”cause right now it looks like you’re getting screwed by your little business partner? Huh? Am I not right on the money sugar? Oh, but where’s that little sarcastic buzzer now?!”

Vox slipped his pants on, zipping up his fly while trying to walk towards (Y/n)

“I swear, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m..this isn’t…we’re not…”

“Save it.” She said,”This, us, is over. Our business deal is over. And if you even try to negotiate or give me some shitty excuse, this little turf you have will belong to my empire and become my next factory.”

Vox was left, standing here, shirt off and wrinkled pants on, watching as the love of his life took the bare necessities and walked out of his life, all while Valentino watched and smirked at the sight.

—————

7 Years Later

“THAT FUCKER IS BACK!!” Vox screamed, his fists slamming down on the table. A month before (Y/n) walked out, the infamous Radio Demon went MIA, and has now returned to the scene, alongside the Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar.

“Yeah” Valentino said, in a sultry voice,”I thought he was gone for good too”

“It’s been seven years!” Vox huffed, turning away from the screen, missing a very crucial person who just walked outside to scope the situation of the attack on the hotel.

“You still pissed he almost beat you that time, right before your little angel walked out~?” Valentino teased, rubbing Vox’s digital cheek on his screen, causing a squeegee noise to be emitted

“Uh, fuck you!”

“Just saying!”

“Things have changed a lot since they both left town!”

“That’s for sure”

“I gotta send a message to who’s, really in charge of things now!!”

“Welcome home, I’m gonna make you wish that you’d stayed gone! Say hello, to a new status quo. Everyone knows that there’s a brand new dawn, turn the TV ON!!!”

“Top of the hour, and we’re discussing a certain ‘has-been’ who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence! Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight’s program!”

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why’s he hanging around? What does that mean for your family? Well handily I’ve got good news, he’s a loser, a fossil, and I don’t mean to sound hostile, but the demon is a coward!”

“You can take that as gospel! Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I’m visual, he’s barely audible! Stop giving him the time of day, don’t listen to a word he’d say! I hope he had a nice vacay, but he should’ve STAYED AWAY!”

“While he rid in radio, we’ve pivoted to video! Now his medium is getting bloody rare!! Hell’s been better since he split! Where’s he been? Who gives a shit!”

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air~!” A familiar, static filled voice responded.

“Yes I know it’s been a while, since someone with style, treated Hell to a proper broadcast. Sinners rejoice!-“

“What a dated voice!-“

“Instead of a clout-chasing, mediocre video podcast-“

“C’mon!”

“Is Vox insecure? Perusing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?”

“Ignore his chirping!”

“Everyday he’s got a new format!”

“You’re looking at the future, he’s the shit that comes before that!”

“Is Vox as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He’d be powerless without the other Vees!”

“Oh please!”

“And here’s the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team! I said no, stole his girl, and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea!”

“WHAT?! YOU OLD-TIMEY P-PRICK, ILL SHOW YOU SUF-UF-FFERING!!!!”

“Uh oh, looks like the TV is buffering” A new voice said, mocking Vox’s breakdown. Except it wasn’t a “new” voice, it was (Y/n). (Y/n), with Alastor, at the Hazbin Hotel.”

“ILL DESTROY-Y YOUUUUUU”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost your signal” Alastor said, taking the mic back before finishing his number.

“Let’s begin~”

“I’m gonna make you wish that I’d stayed gone! Tune on in! When I’m done, your status quo will know it’s race is run! Oh this will be fun!”

Vox could hear Alastor laughing alongside (Y/n) in the background, as his monitors start to flash “no signal”

“FUCK!” He whines

————

The gang was all downstairs, Charlie explaining what tomorrows fun activity would be when a loud banging was heard on the door.

“A NEW GUEST!!” Charlie squealed, stars in her pupils, as she ran to go open the door, only to be met with a very tall TV Overlord.

Alastor’s antlers shot out of his head while (Y/n)‘s weapons were at the ready.

“I come with no harm!” Vox said, raising his hands, before locking eyes with (Y/n). His digital eyes made little heart pupils before blinking them away, embarrassed.

“(Y/n)…” he breathlessly said,”I-I know you hate me…but please, I-“

“Save it Vox.”

“I wish I could explain to you that night, or even today, but I can’t! This….deal has my lips sealed shut my love-I mean (Y/n). I-I just…I cannot explain myself with this contract I have.”

“Wait” Angel Dust said,”You’re Valentino’s little situationship, right?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it….”

“Wait….oh shit” Angel said, walking over to him,”I…I know what it’s like…”

“I know…I see you around his studio…I’m not above owning souls, I have my own, but to work with him…? I’d…..I’d free you all in a heartbeat….”

“Vox?” (Y/n) said,”are you in some sort of deal with Val over your…body.”

Vox could only look at her, not able to give her any conformation.

“Oh Vox…I…I didn’t know…I-“

“I know dear…” Vox said, smiling sadly,”but you have a erm….partner, of sorts, not your finest option but whatever, now and I wouldn’t want to intervene-“

“Oh Alastor? Me and him aren’t in a relationship” (Y/n) replied,”You know him, Mr. Ace in the Hole!”

“A what now?-“

“Ohhhhh, that…that explains so much.” Vox said, looking at the Radio Demon.

“Vox…I-I think we need to go home, talk about this in private….after I squish a bug.”

“Okay…” Vox said, holding (Y/n)‘s hand,”but what about this hotel?”

“I’ll still work here, with everyone, I believe in the cause. I just didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Maybe I can….put some ads on if you’d like-“

“YES YES YES PLEASE THANK YOU MR. VOX SIR ID REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!” Charlie said, shaking Vox’s other hand,”IM CHARLIE!!”

Vox smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in a while,”Yeah, yeah I think I need to hang here a little more often…detox a little…”

“Good, I can’t have you stressed out too much, I just got you back.” (Y/n) said, rubbing his digital cheek affectionately,”my little trophy husband”

[renardtrickster]

Also because bringing up "I watched Hazbin Hotel" and only talking about discourse is a Bad Look, here's my thoughts on the pilot and the four episodes thus far released.

I've seen some people say the animation in the show is less fluid in the pilot, but I think I like the show's animation more? It's a lot more consistent, the characters are shaded so they stand out from the background more (and kind of "pop"), but honestly a passing vibe I got in the pilot now and then was that it was "too fluid", like it moved too fast at places or like it had a lot of "flourishes" that felt off. I can't accurately explain it, but point is, I like the show's vibes more.

I also like the redesigns. I didn't notice anything too drastic with say Dust, Alastor, or Charlie, but Vaggie's was an upgrade. The red shirt breaks up the white, and she's looking much more Moth (the more Moth your characters look the better).

I don't really have anything to say about the voices, my attention was divided elsewhere. I will be committing seppuku later for not being able to have a strong, belligerent opinion on this matter.

Speaking of Vaggie, now that I've seen more of her character, I've grown to appreciate her more. There's a sort of 4-section graph where Charlie and Vaggie believe in the Hotel's success, with Charlie being much more personally emotionally invested in it while Vaggie's more cynical and seems to be doing it more for Charlie's sake. Meanwhile Angel Dust and Alastor don't believe the Hotel can succeed, but Alastor still helps while Angel Dust just blows things off.

Also everyone who did the "she's an Angry Latina stereotype" thing can eat shit now. She was angry in the pilot because Angel Dust publicly embarrassed her girlfriend, tarnished any credibility the Hotel had, and then insulted her to her face while being unrepentant the entire time. Now that we've seen more from her, she's just grumpy and more willing to put her foot down (as opposed to Charlie who is bubbly and more accommodating). I knew this specific accusation was bad faith from day 1.

I genuinely don't think the show is edgy. It "appears" edgy, but Charlie's a disney princess who walked onto the wrong set and is shifting the genre through her presence. The fact that her goal is to show that people in Hell can change and become better people isn't just portrayed as earnest (instead of naive) but it is in fact achievable (as shown by Pentious and the others over time) adds onto this. The show is a fundamentally hopeful and positive one and I respect it for that.

In line with that, I appreciate the musical numbers. They bop, I didn't need to tell you this, but they also fall into the category of "endearing through earnesty". Like Charlie singing to Pentious about how change begins with an apology is the corniest shit on earth, but I couldn't help but smile about it.

I do like the speed of the plot, both the "redeeming people" plot and the "expedited extermination" one. I cynically expected Pentious' redemption to be a red herring, but the fact that he stuck around and is turning over is something I approve of. It is a bit fast at times though, I do know that this is because there's only 8 episodes, but I choose to blame the studio/streaming platform over the writers on this one. Also, we should throw bricks through the window of every streaming service headquarters.

I did like Adam's portrayal. The original Adam and Eve myths, whether or not Lilith is there, do lend themselves to misogyny, both in terms of reading and "what influenced some doctrine". Between Lilith being cast out for not wanting to be subservient to a man/wanting to top and then having sex with animals and demons or something, and Eve getting duped by the snake and now humanity's been cursed with original sin because femoids are dumb and bad and men should make the decisions, etc. etc. Adam being depicted as a misogynistic frat bro-type who is obsessed with his dick and brags about his conquests to random people reads to me more as "a clever take/commentary on christian mythology and culture" instead of "gratuitous edginess".

Honest to god, I think they're better at using swear words now. My principle criticism of Helluva Boss (which I like) is that they sometimes use "fuck" like it's punctuation, and it can get grating or become "noise" that doesn't register, which is Bad when it's your funny dialogue. Cursing is still casual, but I feel like characters only turn on the capslock and start screaming FUCKING SHITASS when they're emotionally compromised or intentionally meant to come across as crude and unlikeable. If they took notes and course-corrected on this, I will never wear a hat because it's going to be off to them forever.

Angel Dusts' voice direction in episode 4 was really good. He usually speaks in a somewhat high-pitched, New York ("new yoike") accent, but when he was yelling at Charlie to leave I noticed that it seemed to get a bit deeper and he lost the accent, as though he was so upset he couldn't keep up the affect anymore. I got chills.

TL;DR Hazbin Hotel is good, actually.

Maybe people should take more breaks from using the internet, for their mental health.

[ilikekidsshows]

Okay, so... I just realized something. No one told Marinette to keep information from Cat Noir until Syren. She was the one who didn't think to tell him about the spellbook, and she was the one who showed up to Fu's without him. In Volpina, The Collector, Robostus, and Sapotis, the idea of Cat Noir knowing is never brought up, mostly because Marinette and Fu don't talk about him. This makes Syren look really weird when you think about it. We suddenly have Fu saying that it isn't the right time and the episode acts like those aren't Marinette's secrets to tell, when this wasn't a factor in any of Fu's previous appearances.

Now, I'm not trying to defend Fu here. He's supposed to be the mentor here—even if Marinette doesn't think about Cat Noir, he has the responsibility to. It certainly is a writing choice is what I'm saying.

---

Considering the priorities of the writers, they most likely didn't think of it either. They tended to ignore Cat Noir's role in things even before the retool. It could be they totally forgot that Cat Noir was also a factor in the team dynamics. I'm guessing, depending on the writing order, ‘Syren’ could be the justification to keep him in the dark after they realized that Marinette keeping him in the dark of her own volition would make her look bad if anyone thought more deeply on it, and supposedly they figured the audience just wouldn’t question Fu’s authority in the matter, since he’s the “wise, old mentor” archetype. The writers tend to think giving some throwaway excuse is enough to justify everything they pull in the show.

That's why the show is so quick to give excuses every time Marinette does something hurtful towards others instead of just, you know, having her learn to not do it. The idea that people watching could disapprove of Marinette’s actions is too horrifying to them, she couldn't possibly do something actually wrong, so they try to explain everything away to justify her, either right away or retroactively when they realize fans actually have issues with something Marinette has done instead of just accepting that the hero protagonist can do no wrong by virtue of being the protagonist.

Miraculous, I feel, moralizes secret-keeping way too much. Alya and Marinette have a big debate on whether they’d reveal they were a hero to their respective bestie or not in ‘Sapotis’, where Marinette “wins” by virtue of Alya, under Ladybug's orders, not telling Marinette in her civilian persona that she’d become a hero by the end of the episode. The debate was “I’d tell you because I tell you everything” versus “I’d not tell you to keep you safe”, with Marinette acting kinda smug about it, like the writers considered this the ultimate “gotcha!” that the fandom is using for all secrets Marinette chooses to keep now.

“She’s keeping people safe,” she maybe thinks that, but how does that work in practise? Generally, the idea of not telling a loved one about your heroics is to keep them from getting involved and getting hurt, but Marinette is the one getting her friends involved by giving them Miraculouses. She breaks that safety justification herself. The show also raises the possibility of Hawk Moth lifting this information from their mind if they ever got Akumatized, but Marinette herself has almost gotten Akumatized but could avoid the butterfly with Tikki’s encouragement. The solution to getting Akumatized is to not leave your secret-keeper alone when they’re upset. Also, the show later reveals that this is a nonissue, because Kagami, who knew Ladybug’s identity, got Akumatized with Hawk Moth being none the wiser she knew, meaning Hawk Moth can’t read minds to that degree, but, to be fair, the heroes probably didn’t know that. I think most Miraculous holders' decision to reveal or hide their identity from their loved ones is one that's based on what they consider most functional and is, in fact, not based on morality at all.

So, here’s the question we should actually ask about Marinette’s secret-keeping: when you keep  a secret that “isn’t yours to tell”, is it really a moral choice or simply a choice? The thing about keeping secrets in real life is that it, by itself, isn’t a moral or immoral act. It’s what your secret-keeping accomplishes that determines whether you made a moral choice. Of course you're not gonna tell your friend your other friend is planning to throw them a birthday party if you want it to be a surprise, but, if the birthday hero just told you they're planning to go out on that date and time, it's just practical to let them know your shared friend has something planned for that time. It's not a moral choice what you do here, simply a practical one.

If your friend comes out to you about their sexual or gender identity, this secret deals with your friend’s personal life and really is no one else’s business. Keeping that secret is, of course, good. If your friend has queerphobic parents, revealing the secret to them would put your friend in danger, so it would be bad to tell.

If your friend told you they’d murdered one of your classmates in cold blood and had hidden the body, you keeping that secret makes you an accessory to murder and you could face legal charges. However, your personal moral code also applies here. Would you be cool with murder if the victim was also a murderer and killed your best friend’s sister? Would you be against murdering but even more against betraying your friend by getting them caught for a crime they committed? What if your friend murdered an innocent person and you both know this and your friend tells you they plan to kill again because they’re actually a serial killer and keeping their secret means more innocent people will die? Then it would undeniably be bad if you chose to keep that secret.

There are more important things to consider than whether or not a secret is “someone’s to tell”, like actual harm coming to people because of secrets that should be kept or revealed.

The matter of secrets is that we need to take into account who they affect. The things Marinette keeps from Cat Noir: the grimoire, Fu, her training, Rena Furtive becoming a permanent member, are all things that affect Cat Noir. I’m sure Cat Noir would like to know the history of the power he wields. I’m sure Cat Noir would appreciate some guidance and training too instead of being left to flounder and try to figure things out alone. I’m sure Cat Noir would like to know what backup is available in tight situations, especially if Ladybug herself isn’t available to be Rena Furtive’s sole contact. The excuse that these aren’t Marinette’s secrets to tell, because they’re Fu’s or Alya’s, are just excuses. These are Marinette’s secrets, because she’s benefiting from something she’s actively denying Cat Noir access to.

Her secret-keeping is even more questionable in the season five finale with Gabriel’s evil deeds, Hawk Moth’s identity and Adrien’s status as a Sentimonster. These secrets directly influence Adrien, his ability to recover from how his father treated him and his ability to keep himself safe when his free will can be easily hijacked. This information doesn’t just affect Adrien, it’s information he needs. And the stans are justifying Marinette keeping this information from him with “it’s not Marinette’s secret to tell”, implying the responsibility should be shifted to anyone else but their precious idol. Well, here’s what I think of that: these secrets are also not Marinette’s to keep.

[aoiveae-monsters]

HALLOWEEN WITH THE MONSTERS!

Including Mothman, Dullahan, Yautja and Khonshu

Edid: Finally a real note. Just a Post of my beloved silly skrunkles. Also for Khonshu's part I used witch reader from the headcanons I wrote for him before because I just felt like it.

Mothman

- He has seen humans celebrate halloween before but didn't quite understand it, always wonderd why humans tried to mimic other monsters.

-Once you properly explain it to him, and talk about free food- he's hooked. His antenna stand straight and he goes to put on a white blanket to go as a ghost Trick or Treating.

-He could already go without a costume but he looks so cute and happy in his little white robe, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him.

-You go around everywhere and he does the most adorable chirb when he says "Trick or Treat", almost everyone gives him extra candy because it's that cute. The sweet old Lady next door gave him a full bucket of candy and his antenna did a cute little wiggle.

-He munches himself into a sugar rush with all the candy he eats. Also he hand feeds you candy. Still in his costume too. By end of it all you got a chonky moth in a ghost costume, happily purring as you rub his belly.

Dullahan

-Come on, Halloween is one of his fav times of the year. He get's to walk around freely, get candy and scare people shitless! He even made you a matching outfit to his.

-You'll both be riding on his steed, scaring unasuming mortals. Sapphire Flames erupting as he let's out a wicked laugh, terrifying anyone he sees.

-Sometimes he'll put his head somewhere for a person to pick up and then igniting his eye sockets, giving the poor someone a heart attack.

-Other than that he'll gallop the streets with you, drawing the attention of other halloween goers, drinking up all the praise he get's for his "costume". Will do tricks like taking his head off in front of everyone. Let's the children even play with with, creating dancing figures with his flames.

-In the rare event he meets another Dullahan, he'll talk for ages with them and do some duo pranks. The horses will just chill with you, judging their riders.

-Like a real Gentleman he comes back with his head filled to the brim with the candy, all for you. He won't answer any questions about how he got it...

Yautja

-It was suprisingly easy to get your mate to celebrate halloween. He's mostly excited to adorn you in the bones of the beasts he hunted.

-He's purring the entire time you put on your costume, the skull of a xenomorph being your mask.

-He himself puts on something, some giant jagged bones. Sharpening his claws and showing off his face. You two will have all the eyes on you.

-If you wanted candy however, you could have simply asked him to get you some, your mate loves to spoil you, but if Trick or Treating is what you want than you shall have it. He can never say no to you.

-With him by your side, you get aalllll candy. After getting the sweets going to horror maze is a MUST. He doesn't get scared but he puffs up with pride whenever you get spooked and cling to him.

-Lowkey he scares the workers there. Some other people there think he works there and fan over him.

-By the end of it all you turned him into a halloween fan, he cannot wait for next year, but before the night ends there is one last thing you two need to do...going on a hunt!

Khonshu

-The God of the Moon wasn't too interested in your mortal holiday. Yet somehow, you managed to convince him to go with you, manifesting him in a corporeal form. So that's why you asked him to teach you the magic to invoke entities...

-But you did go through all the hard work to summom him into the material plane, he can't bring himself to say no to his favorite human. And it has been centuries since he last walked the earth with mortals.

-Okay fine, you did it, you got your oh so great and benevolent god to acompany you during this wicked night. Steve and Marc are beyond impressed with your skill to make Khonshu do anything you want.

-Surprisingly enough though, you didn't have to say anything about Khonshu needing a new look, all his idea. After all, the god has decided that since he'll walk among mortals after so many years, he might as well dress for the occasion.

-Pale bandages and golden crescent moons get replaced with black robes that shine like the stars and are adorned with blood red moons. He looks a little like a Vampire.

-Old Birb Man mantifests some fangs after you said that, threatening to take a sip out of you.

-He even dresses you up himself, whatever costume you had before will be changed to make you look worthy to be a god's consort. All will look upon you with awe. Only the best for his beloved star.

-You walk the streets together, the witch and their terrifying patron drawing the eyes and adoration of everyone.

-Daddy Khonshu decides to go even extra and cause a Blood Moon, with a jack'o-latern face filling the celestial body.

-He puffs up when people compliment him, ah yes, how he missed the worship of mortals. Hand feed him the candy you got and he'll coo about how a perfect human you are, his best accolyte. That's how you find out about Khonshu's massive sweet tooth

-However manifesting Khonshu for so long takes it's toll on you, invoking a deity upon the material plane is quite a lot of work. Khonshu already plans to reward you plenty for not only for letting him walk among the earth again but also feel the joy of halloween.

-The night ends with you getting usherd to bed, face lovingly carresed before Khonshu dematerializes.

-While all gaze upon a grinning blood moon.

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Sketchbook Tour part 3

Masterpost

I started some preliminary sketches of Charlie to get a feel for her. I wasn't exactly happy with them. I did like how Alastor turned out in the dancing one, just...not the rest of it.

Before going back to Charlie, I had a couple ideas for a Vaggie redesign I wanted to sketch out. She'll go through a few minor tweaks over time, but overall not bad for a first pass. (There's also a stray Emily)

This is when I started seriously redesigning everyone. I would search up other people's redesigns for inspiration, then move on from there.

More design notes under the cut, and a couple fun Bible facts!

Vaggie: First, I doubled down on the moth theming. I wanted it to be more obvious than it is in canon. It also serves to show that Hell is corrupted, and it makes everyone more inhuman. All the angels will look more human, because "Biblically accurate angels" is not actually all that accurate. After she Falls, she becomes more moth-like, and is not truly an angel anymore.

[I've got this whole idea concerning the blood colors of the various groups. Maybe I should make a dedicated post to explain, but here's the rundown: There are three main groups: Hellborn, Earthborn, and Heavenborn. Hellborn have black blood, and Heavenborn have a glowing white. Earthborn have 3 subgroups: Living, Sinner, and Saint(aka winner). While alive, Earthborn have red. After death, the color depends on if they Fall or Ascend. Fallen Earthborn become Sinners and the blood darkens to purple. Ascended Earthborn become Saints and it lightens into golden yellow. When a Saint Falls, it darkens to purple. When a Heavenborn falls, it darkens to orange. Ascended Sinners will gradually lighten to yellow(albeit it won't ever be quite as bright as the other Saints). Hellborn cannot Ascend.]

All that to say that Vaggie does not have pure angel blood anymore. And I'm trying to decide if the Exorcists are Heavenborn or Earthborn. I'm honestly favoring Earthborn right now, since that's what Adam qualifies as.

Even when she gets her wings back, Vaggie's form is still corrupted and they come back as moth wings, to fit her theming. I wanted to get her long hair out of the way of her wings, and figured that since her hair is sorta moth themed anyway, why not make them the same thing. It works cuz...magic. I also really do not like the floating X over her eye, so I made it a broken eye spot instead.

Charlie: I knew I wanted more goat themes. So the ears were an obvious place to start. I also made her ponytail to look like a goat tail. But I saw a few designs that gave her snake hair and I thought it was great. But I didn't want to draw so many and decided to just give her one. Then named him Hugh. Short for Hubris aka Pride. I designed the Morningstar family around the goat and snake themes, where Charlie gets the goat traits from Lucifer, and the Snake traits from Lilith.

Lucifer: Canon Lucifer has way too many different design motifs. The Biblical Devil is associated with snakes and goats, so I wanted to narrow down on those rather than the forbidden fruit(which is never confirmed to be an actual apple, by the way) or ducks. He can still likes duck, but it doesn't go further than that. Since canon Lucifer is not exactly evil like the Biblical version, I decided it would be thematically appropriate to have his Fall turn him into a scapegoat, of sorts. Which would also mean that Lucifer is not the True Devil. The real Evil is the darkness trapped in the abyss(should I call it Abyss?). Lucifer, as a Fallen Angel, actually created Hell to prevent souls from getting lost in the abyss. So as bad as Hell is, it's actually a relatively good thing. Oh, and he lost his wings during his Fall. (Fun facts: the Devil isn't actually called Lucifer in the Bible, that was a translation quirk basically referring to the fall of the Babylonian king. Similarly, the number 666 probably refers to Roman Emperor Nero)

Lilith: Because I committed to Lucifer as a goat, but still wanted to implement the snake theme, I gave it to Lilith. I wanted to give her snake hair, but also maintain the flow of her long hair. So I decided to give her 7 snakes, each to represent one of the deadly sins. The top one represents pride. They're all named, like Charlie's.

Pride=Vani(Vanity), Greed=Ava(Avarice), Lust=Libby(Libido), Envy=Desi(Desire), Gluttony=Tony(Gluttony), Wrath=Irene(Ire), and Sloth=Sloth(...)

Overall, I haven't fully decided what I want to do with Lilith. It would probably help if we had more canon info on her. Is she secretly an antagonist? Or is there something else going on? Regardless, I enjoyed designing her.

I had this whole tangent about the mythological origins of Lilith, and how she's not actually a biblical character at all. It got too long winded so I cut it. But basically, liliths were a type of demon in Middle East/Mesopotamian cultures. Then a satirical Jewish story written in the medieval era made Lilith Adam's first wife, then she ran off with the Great Demon and started having 100 demon babies a day. She had to promise three angels that she wouldn't hurt any human newborns if they had a special amulet. She was associated with seduction and child-killing. She wasn't a feminist figure until the 1970s. She was just evil before that. Read HERE if you want more info about it.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Let's check in on some Readers old and new shall we?(you don't have to add on to these at all. Just want to show my appreciation for all the work you do on your aus and give you a nice thing to read when u get back from ur break.)

Hellhound! Reader is currently trying to pivot the conversation away from childhood homes, as they don't really want their new friends to know about the less than good state of the pound they grew out of.

Fallen Angel reader is trying to explain what exactly the exorcists are, as they thought the Yans already knew about them and the role heaven plays in hell.

Dark Au Reader wakes up with someone hovering over them in an unknown room and immediately punches them. Where's Kitty? Where Kurt? Where are they? What's going on? ( they woke up in the new headquarters, the others are safe and getting treatment, and they just gave Scott a bloody nose. Their parent is glad they feel healthy enough to move, but please dont punch anyone else.)

Og Creed Reader also wakes up in a dark room and immediately breaks someone's nose, but they know exactly where they are and did it on purpose. Victor would be very proud if it wasn't his nose they broke this time

Haunted mansion Reader is given a box of clothes from their employers. The clothes are old and belong in a museum more than actually being worn, but they appreciate the gesture. Tho they wonder how the odd family knew their size?

Sentinel Reader is getting cooking lessons from Gambit. He even gave them a little apron! They don't quite get what food does and doesn't go together, but they got the spirit! They can't wait to show Kurt!

All of Reader Readerson's blood has rushed to their face because MeeMee Readerson just invited everyone to visit their family villa and insists on it. Let's hope this visit goes as good as the last and they don't get more embarrassed.

Moth Cryptid Au Reader has decided to take advantage of this weird situation and has tasked the invading Moths to help clean and restore the broken down mansion. (Under very careful instructions)

Bleeding Parts and Missing Parts Reader is wondering if maybe they went too far when magneto of all people show up demanding to talk to the Professor and saying a ghost is haunting them. (Kitty is gonna crack a rib from how hard she's gonna laugh. Readr decides no, they didn't if they can get their friends to laugh like that.)

Creator Reader is taking a well deserved nap (they are gonna need the energy)

Normal Reader has reluctantly showed up at the mansion doors with their sibling because the young one has lit fire to the couch three times this week with their mutation before Reader agreed they need help controlling it.

Isekai Reader just saw Jean put a load of laundry in and is having Tide pod flashbacks

Mutant Mutant Reader cries onto Evan shoulder about their family, while Logan has a horrible gut feeling he's forgotten something.

Crow Reader got a hold of McDonald's French fry coupons and has never felt more excitement in their life.

Half-Diamond Reader is sitting in their parent's old throne room. Not on the throne, but on the floor as they try to comfort a panicking pearl who spilled their strange human drink.

Blood of Dragon Reader is doing their mandatory wing exercises, not knowing the adults hope to get them actually flying soon.

Gargoyle Reader is getting their cheeks squished cause the Gargoyles stone faces just don't do that and they are fascinated!

Fnaf Reader just got scooped up by yet another animatronic who is so happy to see them and oh my goodness look at how you've grown! Are you eating enough Reader? Let's go grab a slice a pizza and then we can go to the arcade and laser tag and- (seriously Laura did you tell ALL of them?)

Reincarnated Reader is very awkwardly sitting next to Victor in a crowded roadside diner while he stares them down( Logan is telling them to leave but they are hungry and haven't eaten anything but jerky in a while and they just can't afford to leave)

Hidden in the Dark Reader has clawed their way into the vents. The yans can't see them, but Reader can definitely hear them yelling for them. They just need a minute to breathe.

( That's all I got for now! Thank you for all ur hard work!)

I love it. Thank you, @sugar-soda. Thank you. I like this addition to the Reader Multiverse and all the different aus.

(And I'm back, with a few ideas! I enjoyed my break, and I'm going to take things a little slower so I don't go through burn out as quick!)

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

do you have any opinions on the hazbin critical and vivziepop critical tags?

tw // mentions of sexual abuse and sucide

I have a personal beef with them. And not because I love Hazbin and Vivzie so much but for more presonal reasons so the following opinion won't be measured at all.

Now, don't get me wrong, there are some legit criticisms out there. Like, the show could definitely do better with body diversity and giving us more varied sapphic relationships instead of just throwing a ton of male/male couples at us. And, yeah, Vivzie's response to some of the criticism has been... questionable. (I still cringe when I think about that one time she explained that Raphielle can ship ValAngel because they are sa survivor, but Raphielle explicitly admitted to not be one).

But then, there's stuff that's just... pulled out of nowhere. Like the whole thing about Valentino being a "fetish character." Come on, the world of villains is filled with queer, flamboyant baddies. What sets Valentino apart is how his abusive behavior is shown in the open, making us rethink our love for villains. If it weren't for Mascarade, people would worship this moth daddy gangster in a dress, much like they are with Vox now. It's hard to root for the bad guy when you see the fallout of their actions. Like, Loki committed war crimes and no one was outraged when he got his own TV series and dragged creators for supporting atrocities.

Constant Valentino/Angel Dust discourse actually leads to the more serious issues I have with this "community", more harmful than just "bad media literacy" like the way they handle the topic of sexual abuse and weaponize it, without ever listening to victims. There is this constant shitstorm about Angel being a "bad sa survivor rep," that the way he's written is insensitive because "he shouldn't be horny, he's sexually traumatized." Like, do these people not understand that making Angel unable to enjoy his sexuality the way he wants would essentially mean acknowledging that it's no longer his but belongs to his abuser now? Also, the argument I keep seeing that drives me BAT SHIT CRAZY aka "I can enjoy this media that is centered around murderer, you cannot enjoy the media that treats rapist as a nuanced character because rape is objectively worse than murder." WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU THAT? Reading this makes me feel so angry and sad and guilty because frankly, I was raped, and of course, it was horrible but still I'd choose it any time over being murdered. Because I have my life, I'm loved, and I love, I pursue my dreams, and I can still experience so many good things in my life. Painting sexual assault as this worse-than-death experience is not the feminist take they think it is and does not do victims any good.

Or accusations that Vivzie's support of fandom bullying led to someone taking their life. It's such a ridiculous and harmful claim. Honestly, this thing always makes me heated because suicide is not an easy decision, ask any person who ever faced it. It's not like "ah, this stranger told me to kms, I guess I gotta do it now." Of course, any kind of bullying and abuse adds to the suffering and can be the final trigger, but to me, it's just so disrespectful and harmful that someone could have experienced prolonged, intense suffering and all of this is omitted, their death labeled as a result of "fandom bullying" and weaponized in fandom drama. Also, it's simply cruel to put the blame for it on one, uninvolved person.

Also, it always annoys me when people hold small creators to immensely high standards while not doing the same with others. If we keep lynching and canceling every media that is not objectively morally pure, we won't be left with only perfect media. We will be left with media produced by white, privileged billionaires who might be real-life rapists, abusers, and thieves but are too powerful to be taken down by social media outrage. Hazbin's success is a major W for the underappreciated medium of animation (we saw what WB did to 90% of their animated shows), unpopular genres like musicals (Wonka creators were literally too ashamed to market it as one??), and unapologetic queer narratives that are not written for a heteronormative audience or centered around queer oppression (ofmd, the other medium I can think of in that realm has just been canceled). I can't stand people so desperate to put it down driven by their black-or-white sense of morality. Kant won't be patting your back for being the Moraliest Person because you bullied an indie creator and her fans.

Also everyone who feels the need to explain me hazbin critical agenda - save your breath. I'm very emotional about it and I frankly don't fucking care why you think you are right.