#kit carmine

[checkoutmybookshelf]

A Fragile Enchantment just took book Benedict Bridgerton to SCHOOL!!! You do not harass women about being your mistress after they've said no. This is how you handle that:

Excuse me while I go swoon for a sec over Christopher freaking Carmine.

[maybecoffeemixed]

Hey wait a damn minute

I know what you are

[the-witchs-cafe]

Surge the Tenrec and Kitsunami the Fennec from the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise the would turn into witches in Puella Magi Madoka Magica!

Cause of Witchification: They would DEFINITELY turn into Witches, given their backstories 👀😬

Submitted by @eggchjf

[sttarzoid]

I'm just saying,

[ty-39]

Rivals with Issues

[kolarpem]

Morning Doodle: “The rest of the closet has been converted into my own little workshop, stocked with all the things I need for my kit: bottles of dye, sheets of gold leaf and coils of copper, tins of crushed carmine, and jars of pickled berries. They smell dreadful when opened, but the colors stay pure. There are other bottles too, full of more dangerous things that I’ve buried near the back of the shelf. There’s one in particular that I like to take out when the day has been long. I made it myself and I love the liquid’s warm golden color, its sweet cinnamon smell. Dekora Nevich, I call it. The Ornamental Blade.” (Leigh Bardugo’s “The Tailor”)

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍒 ┊Roll On Wax | Katsuki Bakugou꒱ 『♡』 F! Reader, domestic, reader is waxing coochie, established relationship, husband!katsuki, katsuki loves u so he helps lmao, unedited, one suggestive scene at the end 『♡』 I got a new wax roll on kit-- majority of my punani is smooth now. That's how.. this happened.

No because imagine you get a new roll on wax kit and get bold and decide to do your bikini line and coochie. And you're doing it, but holding the skin taut and yanking at the same time isn't a task for the weak.

Cue Katsuki walking in on you with your legs in a butterfly position, shirt in mouth to chew on, yanking strips of wax off of your crotch and thighs. He blinks momentarily, carmine eyes scanning you just to double check that he's really seeing this.

"What're you doin' now?" The blonde exasperates with a sigh, leaning against the bedroom doorway with furrowed brows.

You pause right before pulling off another strip and clamp your legs closed. Your face burns just about as much as the side of your crotch while you formulate a flustered answer.

"Waxing?"

His lips quirk up in amusement, tilting his head to look at where the strip is still stuck to your skin. "...and how's that workin' out for you?"

Katsuki's never been picky about the state of your pubic hair. Hair, no hair, shaven, waxed-- he doesn't really give a damn. Pussy is pussy. Call him a pussy connoisseur. But you wanted it waxed. Shaving has been a pain in the ass lately with all the ingrowns and razor burn you're getting.

"It's. Well it's going." Your hand gestures to the grocery bag of already-used strips and the heated wax roll on to the left of you.

Katsuki strolls forward languidly in his work pants and socks, huffing a little laugh at the sight in front of him. His brows furrow.

"Is it hard?"

"Mmm. Keeping the skin taut while I yank is... proving to be difficult."

Big hands reach for your thighs and you squeal, clamping them closed and pouting up at your husband. He looks confused at your embarrassment and rolls his eyes.

"Quit acting shy, y're pussy ain't anything new to me." His thumbs rub over the fat of your thighs again and slowly coax them open. Your hand reaches to cover up your face and he snorts.

"It's different when I'm waxing n' stuff!" You insist, feeling self conscious for the first time in a long time.

"I've seen you shave your asshole, it really isn't that different, sweetness." He chortles, cooing when you relax your thighs and gesture to the half-done wax job.

Your face never stops burning but you demonstrate and instruct how it's done. He frowns and holds up the wax strip to look at all the hairs and makes a comment on how weird it looks. He gets a smack to the shoulder for that.

He let's you do majority of the work but yanks a few of the hard to reach strips off, pressing the back of his hand to the red area to soothe you after.

"You shouldda just used my card and got it done at the salon." He pulls off the last strip and throws it away, giving you a little pat on the butt once he's finished.

The shower after goes smoothly for a little as you reward him for it in the form of a shoulder massage and kisses. His fingers trail down and slide toward your folds, dipping in momentarily, only for you to grip his wrist with a stern look.

"No sex for three days--"

"Goddamnit." A huff and sigh.

You lower down to your knees with a quirked brow. Ignoring the water hitting you in the face as he catches on and reaches for the roots of your hair with a grin.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Of Course It's You. It's Always You. - Alastor x Reader

Pairing: Alastor x Y/N

Word Count: 1103

Warnings: Slight Injuries, but nothing major :)

It happened again. Alastor had gone a bit too far when fighting off the many fiends that tried to ransack the hotel. This time it was some loan sharks that had come to hunt down who you had thought was the hotel’s newest resident, Mimzy. Sometimes you wondered why Alastor, a man known for only ever paying mind to his own flights of fancies and rarely ever entertaining anybody else lest it was to gain something for himself, was so passionate about this redemption project of Charlie’s. There wasn’t much time to ponder this, though, as Alastor had burst into your room bruised, exasperated, and covered in blood (was it his? you’d never know). You had never seen him this… defeated. He still wore his trademark smile, but something seemed off. It was his eyes. 

Ever since you became a resident at this hotel, you had grown close to Alastor. He was just so… enthralling. Interesting. You hadn’t asked why he smiles so much, but instead learned how to read his eyes. And right now, his eyes needed help. You urged him to come to your floor and he sat down, gasping as you immediately pulled out your medical kit and applied alcohol to his bite wounds. Man, they weren’t joking when they said those loan sharks had the sharpest teeth out there. For the first time ever, you were thankful that Charlie kept a stocked cabinet of essentials in every room, but more than that, you were surprised that anything could even get close enough to Alastor to hurt him like this. As you bandaged his wounds and filled them with gauze to prevent further bleeding, you slowly unbuttoned his ripped shirt only to be met with equally ripped skin beneath it.

“Oh, Satan”

you say while quickly using the few remaining gauzes you had. He hadn’t said a word this entire time, only wincing when you pressed the bandages against his wounds. Without even saying a word, this was the most vulnerable you had ever seen the Radio Demon. 

As both of your adrenalines died down, you faced him on the floor and asked him what happened.

“I’ve simply never seen anything like it before.” he said.

“They- They had silver teeth- made of Carmine angelic metal.”

While this seems rather insignificant, angelic weapons are the only thing that can kill Earth-born sinners. These scratches were not just inconvenient for the all-powerful Radio Demon, but lethal.

“Alastor… you need to be more careful. We could have lost you. Charlie IS the princess of Hell, you don't have to fight all of her battles for her.” you say.

Alastor’s voice rises.

“Y/N. You don't understand. I- I have to protect this hotel. This is larger than you could ever understand.”

For a second, you swear you could hear his radio voice falter slightly. You sigh in defeat. He could be so stubborn sometimes. As you lean your head against the leg of your bed, you repeat under your breath,

“I could have lost you.”

You put your face into your hands. 

You had been attracted to Alastor ever since you started to get to know him. It was impossible not to. He was such a gentleman… such a thing could not be found just anywhere in Hell. And this man, this diamond among the rough, was almost torn away from you and your chosen family by some lousy loan sharks.

“What was that, Darling?” He broke the silence.

You lift your head off of your hands, slightly embarrassed that he heard you.

“Uh, nothing.”

You felt his hand on your arm, and slightly flinched. Alastor didn't seem like one who was very keen on physical touch, especially initiating it. You glanced into his eyes.

“Darling, don't dismiss yourself. When I ask you a question, answer it.”

You blushed slightly, looking at the distant wall to avoid eye contact.

“I said that I almost lost you. I just dont think I would be able to bear your absence. You- you have helped me see that there can be things worth fighting for, even in eternal damnation.”

Did you just - did you just say that shit out loud?!? Oh, that was corny as fuck, theres no way he’s staying in this room with you after that. Instead of appealing to your inner monologue and leaving, his hand met your face, possibly the gentlest touch you've ever felt.

“Darling, I’ve never once thought that a belle like you could ever think those things about a demon like me. I am truly honored to be a thought in your mind, and even so, a positive one. Why haven't you told me this sooner?”

Did you hear that right? Alastor, THE Radio Demon, just heard you confess your feelings for him… and he didn’t end your life right then and there? You stammered,

“I, um… uh,”

Alastor took your hand into his own, rubbing it with his thumb reassuring me.

“I can sense your anxiety, love. I assure you, you of all people do not have to fear me.” he calmly says.

“Only in my worst nightmares would I ever do anything to cause you harm. Despite my constant efforts to distance myself from you all in efforts to best serve this hotel, you have never faltered in your adamant spirit to just… know me. I know that it is not an effort to manipulate me, as you have not once asked me for anything in return for your constant care.”

As he finishes, you say, “How could I? You have done so much for us, for me, the least I can do is offer you somebody to confide in. Somebody that you can love without ever wondering if this love is reciprocated.”

The two of you sat in silence, staring at the red, wallpaper-plastered wall in front of you, his hand remaining on yours. You didn’t know if what you had said about love was a bit too far, but glancing over at Alastor gave you your answer. His regularly toothy grin was replaced by a small smile, a genuine smile. He moves himself closer to you to remove the distance between your two bodies and slowly guides your head to rest on his shoulder. This gentleness was refreshing. Just two souls that know the same struggle relinquishing in each other’s presence.

“Alastor?” you ask.

“Yes, my Darling?”

“That thing I said, about love… was that too much?”

He chuckled in reply as he leaned his head on yours. “Of course not, my love. Why do you think I came to you of all people?”

[schrodinger-swriter]

Hello, I have a scenario request of you don’t mind. How about a Vaggie or Camilla x fem s/o where they find them severely injured after an extermination. I never see much asks with these characters and I think the two wonderful women should get more recognition. Thank you, if you and have a day (or night)

Carmilla x Injured!Reader

Originally I was planning on doing both, but I don't think I'm quite ready to take on multi character posts.. not at the moment at least! I hope that's okay, Anon!

First time writing for my lady Ms. Carmine, I think I might be bisexual guys!/lh

You would only get injured if you're not by her side. As long as she's near, she's not going to let anyone so much as displace a single hair on your head. There's only three people she holds above her life, her daughters and you.

Imagine her distraught when you hobble into her office, nursing an open wound. She would keep it together for you. She wasn't there for you when the exorcists came down for the extermination, she was with her daughters. She doesn't wait for long to come to your aid, however, making you sit down in one of the seats in her office. She calls for one of her daughters to bring a first aid kit.

She is so apologetic, you can see her brows creasing in guilt as she cleans you. She's relieved, of course, that you're still here. She very open to telling you that she's happy you were able to pull through to the next day. If you work for her she's going to insist that you be on bed rest until you're healed enough to come back to work. Don't think you can sneak out of it, she's going to keeping a close eye on you.

Circling back to the first aid, she is very skilled at treating many injuries. She felt it needed in a place like Hell where you can experience the most atrocious of flesh wounds. Sure, you would heal and regenerate if the injury wasn't caused by an angel's blade, but it doesn't make it any less painful. At least, that is if you're a sinner. If you're a hell born she might actually be a little more firm in making sure you get the rest you need. You're strong, but you can't bounce back like sinners can in most scenarios.

Her maternal side shows, even if she's being stern with you her eyes soften just enough as she asks you please just rest.

[pupsmailbox]

PASTRY︰SWEET ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　aero. ambrosia. angel. anise. anisette. bakerette. bambi. benedict. berrie. berry. betty. biscuique. blanche. blanchesse. blanchette. bluebell. bonbon. brie. bubblegum. cake. cakerie. cakessa. cakette. cakie. candace. candi. candibelle. candie. candy. caramel. caramella. caramelle. carmella. carmine. cassia. cerise. chantilly. charlotte. cherie. cherry. chiffon. chip. chocco. choco. chocobina. cinna. cinnabelle. cinnabon. cinnamon. claire. clem. clementine. coco. cookie. cookilyn. creamine. creamique. creme. cremelle. crepe. cupcake. cupid. custard. custella. cwake. dahlia. darling. delight. dove. drizzle. dulce. dulcie. eclair. fleur. frostine. fuchsia. graham. gummi. heath. honey. honoré. joy. julienne. kandie. kandy. kat. kit. kitty. lacey. lollie. lollu. lolly. lulu. madeleine. maisie. margaret. marjorie. marshmelle. miel. mielle. mika. millie. mimi. moussette. muffine. nana. nilla. panettiere. pastelle. pastrie. pastrina. patisserie. patty. peach. petal. pippin. pixie. popsy. praline. precious. pudding. puff. puffy. pumpkin. pwuffle. raspberry. reese. rosa. rose. rosie. ruth. rye. sherbet. shortcake. sorbelle. sorbet. sprinkline. strawbette. strawbie. sucre. sucrose. sugar. sugarbelle. sugarlyn. sundae. sundaeya. sunny. sweetheart. sweeti. sweetie. sweets. taffy. tartine. tealyn. teddy. toffee. toffi. trixie. truffrill. tulip. vanilla. vanille. vaniya. wafer. weddicae.

PRONOUNS ⌇　ae/ae. angelsfood/angelsfood. ba/bake. bake/bake. bake/bakery. belle/belle. berry/berry. bite/bite. blush/blush. bon/bon. bow/bow. bread/bread. bun/bun. butter/butter. ca/candy. cae/cake. cake/cake. candy/candy. car/caramel. cara/cara. cara/caramel. ce/cer. che/cher. chef/chef. cherry/cherry. chew/chew. cho/choco. cho/chocolate. choco/choco. choco/chocolate. chocolate/chocolate. cinna/cinna. cinna/cinnamon. cocoa/cocoa. confection/confection. coo/cookie. cookie/cookie. cream/cream. cru/crust. cup/cake. cup/cupcake. cupcake/cupcake. cute/cute. dar/dar. delicacy/delicacy. dessert/dessert. devilsfood/devilsfood. do/donut. doe/donut. dou/dough. dough/dough. fla/flan. flo/flour. fre/fresh. fro/frost. fro/frosting. frost/frost. frosting/frosting. fu/fudge. goodie/goodie. heart/heart. hon/hon. hon/honey. honey/honey. ice/ice. jelly/jelly. lace/lace. lolli/lolli. lolly/lolly. love/love. mac/macaron. mi/mix. mou/mousse. mu/muffin. nom/nom. pas/pastry. pastry/pastry. pi/pixie. pie/pie. pink/pink. plum/plum. pop/pop. puddin/puddin. pudding/pudding. puff/puff. puff/puffle. ro/rose. roll/roll. rose/rose. soft/soft. sprinkle/sprinkle. sti/stix, strawb/strawberry. strawberry/strawberry. su/sucre. su/sugar. sug/sug. sug/sugar. suga/suga. sugar/sugar. swe/sweet. swee/sweet. sweet/sweet. tart/tart. toffee/tofee. trea/treat. treat/treat. wa/warm . 🍡 . 🍦 . 🍧 . 🍩 . 🍪 . 🍫 . 🍬 . 🍭 . 🍮 . 🍯 . 🍰 . 🎂 .

[sluttery-withoutshame]

39 seconds of Eric Singer magic.

Another edit for @mindofotherstars, who discovered this gem, SOMEHOW, I don’t know.

But it seems to be ground zero for Eric’s entire career.

“That was in ’84. I entered a Carmine Appice drum contest in LA in September ’84. I remember it was a radio station, I think it was KLOS, you sent in a tape and from that they picked 50 people – 15 girls and 35 guys.

“They had you play at a Guitar Center in the parking lot, they set up two drum kits, one double bass kit, one single bass kit. Out of that they picked the finalists. Steven Adler was in the contest. He didn’t get picked for the finals, I remember he was upset. His mother went up to Carmine Appice, ‘How come my son Steven didn’t get picked?’ I was standing right on the sidewalk next to him while his mother was asking Carmine. It had to be an awkward moment.

“The funny thing was, three years later he’s in the biggest band in the world, so you never know how things are going to turn out. After that, fast forward, I made the finals, I didn’t win, I took third place. Some girl asked Carmine for my number, so the next day I got a call, ‘Hey, I got your number from Carmine Appice and I’m doing this video for Playboy magazine, they’re doing all these videos called women of rock.’

“I did it with a girl called Brenda Lee Holliday. Being in that drum contest, that’s how I got discovered. The guy that played bass in the video, Ray Marzano, had played with Lita. His girlfriend was Lita’s best friend. Randy Castillo was her drummer. Ray goes, ‘Randy quit, Lita doesn’t even know it yet, she’s in England with Tony Iommi,’

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Regency Romantasy

So...it has been brought to my attention that I perhaps have a type, and this book ticked a lot of really good boxes for me. It's regency-inspired. It's fantasy. It's a romance. It has a chronically ill main character. It has sewing and fashion. Literally 90% of the characters are LGBTQIA. It has a BALCONY SCENE for crying out loud. It even has a gossip columnist who might be better than Lady Whistledown (do NOT come for me, Bridgerton Fandom, I said what I said). I could go on, but at that point I think we would have completely dissolved from actual review to screamed list of things I enjoyed, so let's rein it in for a minute and talk A Fragile Enchantment.

I'm going to start with setting, because while this book is regency-inspired, it also plays a little fast and loose with other historical inspirations. The reality of the blight and famine in historical Ireland (and frankly also the troubles and every time that Ireland revolted against England) was that it came after the regency, but here Niamh is the first generation after a similar event and subsequent revolt in her home country of fantasy Irel--I mean Machland. She has grown up surrounded by survivors of the blight and revolt, and like everyone who reads Maus learns, generational trauma is a BITCH. So when our dressmaker protagonist is invited to make the wedding clothes for the son of the king who murdered her people, it's politically and emotionally charged. Add to that the fact that Niamh's magic is hereditary and weirdly murdery, and yeah, things are emotional as heck.

Possibly I shouldn't relate quite so hard to a protagonist who is literally hurting herself for people who ultimately couldn't give a damn about her, but that IS my villain origin story, so all I had for Niamh was compassion at how hard a position that is to be in.

Niamh herself is beautifully written, and Saft balances all the threads tied around and pulling at Niamh's heart just beautifully. Every choice is complex and fraught, and so-deeply-ingrained-she-doesnt-even-notice-it impulse to shape herself around other people's pain and grief and comfort them instead of sitting with her own feelings is just stunningly well executed without feeling dramatic or indulgent.

Niamh is so desperate for friends, and the little ring she constructs around herself couldn't be stranger or more wonderful. From the enraged, grumpy Kit to Sinclair to Rosa and Miriam, this found family is wildly unlikely and prickly, but they fit between each other's thorns just perfectly.

And speaking of people having thorns...we need to address Kit Carmine. Younger son of a mad (and abusive before he went mad) king with an alcohol problem and green magic, our boy is GRUMPY. And BLUNT. And honestly I love him for that, because those thorns are hiding a very stressed out, distinctly squishy center. And also one that is deathly afraid of hurting people, because that's also a thing.

Kit is so tangled up between rage and duty and the few people he cares about that he and Niamh really have to work to develop a compassionate understanding based on wildly different personalities. And then you add all the imperialist and decolonizing stress between them plus the fact that KIT IS LITERALLY ABOUT TO MARRY SOMEONE ELSE and it's a whole deal.

There are so many wonderful moments in this book, it was a delight from start to finish. I objectively have more to say about this book, but I want to avoid spoilers here to inspire y'all to go read this book. I promise, it's worth it. Now, go get it and read. *shoos you toward the bookstore/library/tablet/place you get your books from*

[seramilla]

:3

Clara and Odette were delivering daggers. Some demons have cornered Clara and Odette in an alleway. They must have been new as everyone knows not to mess with Carmine daughters.

The sisters managed to fend them all. But, it seemed one wasn't fully dead. He grabbed one of the angelic weapons they dropped while fighting and swiped, menaging to scar Odette's arm.

Clara immediatelly reacted by killing the demon, but damage was already done. Blood trickled from the deep gash on Odette's arm. She is holding her arm while wincing. Clara scanned the wound before taking part of Oddy's labcoat and wrapping it around.

Luckilly, Their home was a few blocks away. They arrived home, but Odette wasnt feeling the best. The makeshift bandage was soaked with blood. Carmilla and Sera upon seeing the scene gasped. Carmilla quickly brought her to sit, and went to check the wound.

Both Sera and Carmilla winced at the wound. Carmilla swore under her breath while instructing Clara to get the med kit. They menaged to stitch Odette up, but she started to heat up.

They were all fussing over her the whole time, giving her medicine. putting cold towels on her head...

Odette menaged to get better safelly, but the scar remains.

Carmilla is blaiming herself for everything as its cause of her bussiness that her kids got hurt. Sera is trying to pursue her otherwise but is having a hard time.

:3

Why do y'all gotta hurt my baby Odette like this? 😭😭 Hang on, Odette, your mamas are comin' to save you! (Even though technically only one of them is your mother....that will be remedied soon!)

I can just see Carmilla and Sera having a little ol' date night out on the veranda when Clara shows up at home carrying a battered and bloodied Odette in her arms. Carmilla drops everything, almost spilling her tea, and starts checking Odette's wound. Maybe Sera uses some angelic magic to numb the pain or make it heal better. At least until they can get Odette to a hospital. Carmilla never even knew Sera could do that...she is, quite frankly, in love with this woman.

Odette has a scar for the rest of her life. Carmilla is both distraught about her daughter and worried that Sera is disappointed their date night had to be cut short. Sera absolutely does not blame Carmilla for it, though. If anything, seeing Carmilla be so protective of her girls just makes Sera even more infatuated with her. People in Hell are supposed to be ruthless, selfish monsters. Carmilla is the exact opposite of that. To Sera, she has more love, integrity, and loyalty than most non-fallen angels in Heaven do.

Sera's gonna marry that woman!!

[jacksdinonuggets]

Sooo, I had like 10 W.I.Ps in my google docs and was bored so I finished this one

Vaggie SH Angst fic

Tw: Sh

Caregiver: Carmilla!

It was extermination day again. Her first one since her fall and the Carmine family adopted her.

Vaggie found herself alone in her room. Lights off, watching the bloody massacre begin to end outside from her window. It was sickening. She couldn’t believe she used to do this. That she trained for this. It disgusted her. She was ashamed for even partaking in it. Ashamed she never realized what an awful person she was. The guilt weighed heavily on her heart. It pulled and tugged on it, trying to make her cry with big emotions.

Her sisters and mom were out there, risking their lives to get the materials for their weapons. They didn’t want Vaggie go out with them. They knew how mentally unstable she could get. They didn’t want to risk any unhealthy mindsets or triggers while she was out there. Too bad she already was while inside the safety of her own bedroom.

Sighing, she let the ashamed depressive thoughts enter her brain. She didn’t even let herself disassociate. Horrible people deserve horrible things. That’s what heaven always said whenever she would question the exterminations. The voices entered and started up their nonsense.

‘You’re a horrible person’

‘They left you for a reason’

‘You should’ve died’

‘You don’t deserve Carmilla’s love’

The voices kept bellowing loudly. It was torture to her. But she knew deserved it. She deserved every single terrible thought and feeling she had. However, the voices were starting to get too painful. She needed her punishment to be physical. She needed to feel some kind of physical agony. She let herself be mentally tortured for too long. It was a dreadful feeling. 

Eyeing her spear leaning up against the wall of her bedroom, she knew what she needed to do. 

Grabbing her spear, she sat on the floor beside her bed (To not get get blood on her sheets) and rolled up her left arm sleeve and lined up the spear head blade with her wrist. Making sure it would be the most painful area, she pressed the blade deep into her skin, slicing in a smooth motion. Since it was an angelic spear, it slid in like she was cutting through softened butter. She let out a surprised yelp as the pain wracked through her arm but kept digging and slicing it. Lots of golden blood oozed out of her self-inflicted wound and dripped onto the floor. She’ll just lie and say she got her period (Normally, afab Winners wouldn’t get periods but since she fell, her body went back into torture mode every month). She made another deep, long, injury. She hadn’t even noticed she started crying before salty tears landed into her wounds, causing them to sting. She made more and more and sobbed harder till she was a hiccuping, snotty mess that would heave every now and then. Nothing expelled as she was too worried to eat that day.

The front door had opened. She let out a small gasp. How long had she been crying for? She checked the clock. It had been an hour. She had been a pathetic, weak mess for an hour. And she still was.

She tried to stop her sobs but couldn’t. She choked before a loud wail was released. She couldn’t control it. The emotions were just too big and she desperately craved comfort even though part of her wanted to keep suffering.

Immediately, footsteps started rushing up the stairs. She couldn’t help but cry more, knowing how disappointed her family will be with her when they see her. Her door swung open. She looked down in shame of being caught.

“Mija!”

“Vaggie!”

The Carmine familia ran towards the angel. The motion made Vaggie feel very unsafe and overwhelmed. She couldn’t handle that many people running at her. Wailing louder, she tried to move away from them and curled up. Luckily, her sisters got the hint and stepped back.

“Clara, Odette, get the first aid kit and Vaggie’s baby bottle. Fill it up with ice water please,” Carmilla told them. She could tell where Vaggie’s headspace would be heading. And even if she wasn’t slipping, helping her feel little would definitely make her feel a bit better. The Carmine girls nodded before walking out to grab the items.

“Shh, Mija, i’m right here, I’m not going to hurt you,” She slowly approached the scared girl. She summoned a rattle and shook it, trying to get Vaggie to regress. She looked up at the rattle and focused on the soothing sound it made. While she was distracted, Carmilla quickly grabbed the spear with her other hand and flung it across the room. There would definitely be some rules with her spear after this.

Clara and Odette returned very quickly. Clara had the bottle in her hands and Odette, the first aid kit. 

Carmilla sat on the bed with her and pulled her into her lap. She rocked back and forth, cradling and bottle feeding the crying girl while Odette wiped down her injuries with a baby wipe.

“AaAH!” Vaggie cried when she sprayed some alcohol onto her boo-boos. She choked on some of her water while she screamed.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetie, it’ll only sting for a bit,” Carmilla rubbed her back as she coughed.

“You’re doing great, Baby sis,” assured Clara. 

Finally, Odette managed to get the gauze on the self-inflicted wound and wrapped it up with a bandage. It wasn’t perfect but it would help it heal. The two sisters left the room to let Carmilla help calm their distressed sister.

Once vaggie had managed to stop bawling, she snuggled up against Carmilla.

“Sweetheart, you need to tell me when you feel like harming yourself,” 

“Otay, M sowwy, Mama,” Vaggie mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry, Cariño, I just want to make sure you’re safe,” She hugged her child. She didn’t want to lose her to something like this. She wouldn’t be able to handle it.

They snuggled up together and Vaggie practically melted into her Mami’s arms. She really regretted harming herself now.

Carmilla cooed at her small daughter, playing with her hair and giving her lots of kisses on her head. 

Usually, she would rock Vaggie to sleep but the fallen angel didn’t want to sleep, as she was afraid her night terrors would be back. They would read a few stories before cuddling some more.

While cuddling, Carmilla had an idea. What if they made a deal? If Vaggie were to get hurt from herself or others, Carmilla would immediately be alerted, that way she would know instead of Vaggie trying to hide it.

But now wasn’t the time to bring it up. She didn’t want Vaggie to become more stressed, especially now that she was small. She would bring it up later, but for now, they would just cuddle and relax.

[dizzified]

GUH RED RED RED I LOVE HER SO MUCH, UH MEET RED THE MEORLARK, SHE'S EVERYTHING TO ME

Eyeless, born without eyes, Red's strongest trait is her sense of smell and feeling, she discerns her surroundings via scent and head/muzzle bonking [Specifically her Taurolystris partner, Blue]

Meorlark's normally don't get attached to their young, they name them standard simple things, Red was named after her coat color. Red however broke this cycle of disregarding litters and gave her all to protecting and loving her own offspring as a result.

Red lost the majority of her first litter to a violent Venuella, she ended up snatching up the only surviving kit and fleeing with Blue to safety, the entire ordeal made her extremely protective of not only her surviving kit, but her future offspring.

Children: 2 unnamed kits [Died being crushed by a rampaging Venuella] Akeko [First Son - Alive - Lived to adulthood], Alabaster [Albino - Deceased - Died of disease from rotten food], Allum and Beru [Third Daughter and Son - Deceased - Stillborn], Karumi [Fourth Daughter - Stillborn], Azure [Fifth Son - Alive - Named After Blue - Survived To Adulthood], Carmine [Sixth Daughter - Deceased - Survived to adulthood], Yulum [Seventh Son - Deceased- Stillborn], Purple [Eighth Child - Nonbinary - Deceased - Murdered but also was questionably evil], Jabble [Ninth Son - Alive - Named after a friendly Jabblebashhe and survived to adulthood], Salmon [Tenth Son - Alive - Survied to Adulthood], Talu [Eleventh Daughter - Deceased - Birth Complications], Arulo [Twelvth Son - Alive - Survived To Adulthood], Kruma [Thirteenth Daughter - Alive - Final Child]

Wok [Adopted - Alive - Was a grown man when he was adopted but loved anyway], Caper [Grandchild - Carmine's daughter - Survived To Adulthood]

Fun facts: Red is dead set on the belief that Alabaster is still alive and often copes with her grief by saying so, she's adamant that her daughter is perfectly fine despite her obvious death.

Akeko contracted the same illness that killed his younger sister, but ended up surviving after a serious death scare, he was briefly paralyzed but recovered well.

Akeko was one of her most productive children.

Her daughter, Carmine, went off on her own at a young age despite Blue's attempts at keeping her close to the family, while she reached adulthood, she still ended up dying due to her own recklessness, a trait of which she picked up from her mother. She left behind a daughter who weaved back into the family via Blue bringing her home.

Purple was an odd child, the first thing they did when they were born was bite, and it didn't stop as they aged. I wasn't long before this aggressive habit got them killed, nobody in the family mentions Purple. They try to forget. Red and Blue are both happily living in their old age, while still adventuring, they've had enough of raising children for one lifetime and want some time to themselves, a trip around the islands could do them good.

Red had a habit of throwing herself into fights she shouldn't, due to her blindness, she's extremely defensive, and she's not above attacking anything that she thinks slights her or someone she cares about. This has led to multiple near-death experiences, the large scar on her chest is proof of that.

She absolutely despises her extended kin, her littermates aren't exactly the best individuals and after one visit, she'd decided she never wanted to see them again, which was probably for the best.

[aurorasilverthorne]

White Noise

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Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!! Hazbin Hotel and all of its characters belong to Vivziepop and Amazon Prime.

Note: Tipsy is my OC. She belongs to me. If you use her in fanart or fanfiction, please remember to credit me as her creator. Thank you.

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The Radio Demon and The Cannibal Queen made for quite a pair as they strolled through the streets of Hell. Alastor twirled his radio staff whistling an upbeat tune while Rosie carried her parasol. Every now and then he’d make a joke or say something else to get her to smile. She’d laugh at his quips and swat him gently on the forearm or shoulder. “Oh, my stars! Alastor, you are so bad!”

Nobody bothered them. Crowds parted like the Red Sea upon their approach. Alastor Dubois ignored them. He only had eyes for Rosie Hunt and she for him. Their afternoon walk took them from Cannibal Town to the Jazz Quarter then onward to the Hazbin Hotel. They reached the doors and he held one open for her with a polite bow.

“Such a gentleman,” Rosie smirked, resting a hand on her heart as she playfully bumped his hip with hers before stepping into the lobby.

Alastor tensed when he noticed her freeze in the entryway. He couldn’t see it, but he knew by her rigid posture the smile had fallen from her face. “Rosie?” He closed the distance between them shutting the door behind him. “Darling, what’s—” The question died on his lips at the scene unfolding in front of them.

Three overlords stood in their foyer along with the hotel’s staff and residents. Velvette was screaming obscenities into her phone while Charlie and Vaggie ran about grabbing clean towels, hot water, soap, ice packets, and a first aid kit. Angeldust and Husk ran in, one carrying a steaming bowl of broth, the other a glass of water. Lucifer himself was bent over pouring what they could only assume was healing magic into some poor unfortunate soul cradled in Carmilla Carmine’s arms. Zestial lingered nearby standing vigil with a solemn, pensive expression on his long, narrow face.

It was only when the king shifted that Alastor saw what Rosie had already seen. Their adopted daughter, Tipsy, covered in bruises. Blood poured from her nose, ears, and the multiple stab wounds along her chest and torso.

Rosie dropped her parasol and her skull handled cane. “My baby!” She ran toward the unconscious impala-caracal demon slipping more than once but never falling on the smooth polished tiles that comprised the hotel’s floor. She barely stopped in time to avoid slamming into Velvette who was still screeching at whoever was on the other end of the line.

Rosie sank to her knees beside Carmilla, fearing she’d accidentally harm Tipsy if she reached for her. Alastor remained by the doors, his eyes darkening from red to black as the irises shifted from circles into radio dials. The lights began to flicker, alerting everyone to his presence. They stopped what they were doing and turned in his direction.

Alastor’s already unnerving smile widened, his dagger shaped teeth elongated, and the antlers atop his head grew several sizes larger as his body twisted itself to resemble something akin to the wendigo of indigenous folklore. Static crackled, his voice a menacing growl when he spoke. “What happened?”

“Fucking Valentino happened,” Velvette spat unafraid despite being well-acquainted with the Radio Demon’s brutal reputation. “Cuntsucker told me we were going out to lunch. The next thing I know, he’s trying to drag your foster bitch into our limo. Threw me out of the car when I tried to wrestle the knife from ‘im.”

“My daughters and I were attending to business when the onslaught occurred,” Carmilla added. “We happened to be passing by. I sent Odette and Clara home and brought Tipsy here as quickly as possible.”

Alastor’s gaze shifted to Zestial who offered nothing more than a nod of confirmation.

“Where is Valentino now?” Alastor demanded.

Velvette scowled. “Fuck if I know. Probably at Vox’s office blowing him under the desk.”

Glass shattered, wood splintered, and steel groaned as Alastor tore through the hotel doors and out onto the sidewalk. Angeldust watched with the others as Alastor made a beeline for the Vees’ tower. “Uh…should we do somethin’ about this?”

“Mayhaps Alastor is not the only one that thou ought concern thyself with,” Zestial said. “Hath thee not noticed someone else’s departure?”

Charlie paused. “Guys…where’s Rosie?”

________

“You stupid mother fucker! What were you thinking?” Vox yelled. “Are you trying to start a turf war?”

Valentino lounged on a nearby black leather sofa cigarillo in hand. “Calm down, Voxy. I lost my temper, that’s all. Angeldust pissed me off last night. I needed to take out my frustration on someone.”

“So you choose the radio prick’s stray?”

Val shrugged. “It was convenient.”

“And you left Velvette there?”

“She tried to take my knife.” Val crossed his arms and pouted. “You know I don’t like people touching my things.”

Vox opened his mouth then shut it again. There was no point. He’d just be wasting his breath. He dropped down into his chair and massaged his temples. “Rosie’s going to lose her shit when she sees what you did to her little pet.”

Valentino scoffed. “Oh, por favor. That putana can’t do anything to us. She’s too busy sucking off The Radio Dick.”

Vox pinched the bridge of his nose trying to stave off the developing migraine. “She’s an overlord and the Queen of Cannibal Town for a reason, Val.”

“Yeah? Well, I wish that skank whore was here right now,” Val sneered. “I’d tell her to kiss my—”

Their conversation was cut off by the sound of screams coming from down the hall.

“Shit,” Vox muttered, opening the top drawer of his desk to grab his gun. “Why can’t you ever just shut the hell up?”

Valentino jumped up from the sofa when the doors to Vox’s office were ripped off their hinges. Vox and Val stared in horror as Rosie emerged through the doorway. Their eyes widened at the sight of her true form covered in blood and viscera. Her skin was pulled so tight it appeared paper-thin against her bones. Much like Alastor, her smile had widened revealing more of her needle sharp teeth, and her nails had lengthened into tapering claws. Her dress was torn in multiple places and her hat had been lost somewhere along the way during the slaughter of their employees revealing doe ears and a twitching tail.

Her onyx black eyes zeroed in on Valentino. She bared her teeth in a ferocious snarl. The pimp’s earlier bravado melted away along with all the blood and color in his face. His antennae flopped back against his head. “Mierda.”

Vox raised his gun. “Back off man eater.”

Rosie ignored him and charged at Val. Vox moved to pull the trigger, but a black tentacle came out of nowhere knocking the pistol from his hand just as he fired a shot. The bullet missed Rosie striking the wall behind her instead.

Vox twisted around to see Alastor step out of the shadows. The deer demon joined his mate both snarling and snapping their teeth. “Fuck this. I’m outta here!” He ran toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and leapt through the glass. The fall would kill him, but Vox didn’t care. He’d regenerate. It beat being torn apart or eaten alive.

Val took one look at the approaching cannibals and followed Vox’s lead. “Wait for me!”

Alastor and Rosie returned to the hotel hours later. They’d made sure to wreck everything in the Vees’ tower, sparing only what belonged to Velvette because she’d had the decency to protest against their daughter’s attacker. Vel was seated at the bar having a margarita when they walked in. Carmilla and Zestial were gone and Lucifer had retired for the evening.

“How bad is it?” she asked nonchalantly.

“The place should be condemned,” Alastor answered.

“Where’s my daughter?” Rosie demanded. “I want to see her.”

“Upstairs,” Husk declared. “They managed to stop the bleeding. Patched her up pretty good. Don’t know if she’s awake yet.”

Angel slid off his stool. “I’ll take you to her.”

Husk turned back to Velvette. “You stayin’ here now too?”

“I have to. It’ll take months to fix everything Bambi and Faline broke at the tower.”

“What about Val and Vox?”

“Knowing those shitheads? They’re probably hiding out.”

“If they’re smart, they’ll lay low for a while.”

“They’re not that intelligent,” Velvette muttered, sipping her drink.

Alastor kept pace with Rosie as they ascended the stairs and trekked their way up to Charlie and Vaggie’s private suite. It was the second best set of rooms in the hotel, and the princess had insisted on letting Tipsy stay there until she recovered. Vaggie opened the door for them, and Charlie suggested they go join the others for a drink downstairs so Rosie and Alastor could have time alone with their child—if one could call the 19 year old that.

Rosie sat on the side of the bed and took Tipsy’s hand.

Alastor lowered himself down into the seat beside the bed. “She’s going to be alright, my darling. Our little kitten is far too strong to be felled by the likes of Vox or his skeezy boy toy.”

Unshed tears blurred Rosie’s vision. She blinked them away and bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “They hurt our girl.” Her eyes narrowed and her voice became cold. “I want them dead, Alastor. You hear me? Bent and broken in every way possible before they die.”

Alastor hummed softly tapping his claws against the wooden arm of his chair. “Oh my sweet Rosie…all of Hell will hear their dying screams. I promise you that.”

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