#moth vessel au

[aveloka-draws]

18. Healing

[spycemel]

You know what, fuck you. *Turns the funny Angel and Machines into bugs*

My brother forced me to play through the Pantheon of Hallownest while I was taking a break from trying to P-Rank Layer 7. So now these exist.

I'm also planning to do Minos and Sisyphus Prime eventually, alongside maybe-possibly some enemies and the Earthmover.

HALLOWNEST IS DEAD FULL

SOUL IS FUEL

[dragonfiremagic]

Some smol simple doodles I drew of my bestie's bhug silly creeturs I love them Yura (Radiant Kin) and Venturing (Vessel) belong to @grapejuicedragoon

[taddymason]

I see your blog title and I bring you a fun question: If Jay and Kaida were in the Hollow Knight universe, what kind of little buggy lads would they be?

ohohohoh I love this ask, my two hyperfixations together:

Jay would be a firefly for me. I know that in Hollow Knight the version of fireflies are the Lumaflies, which also CAN use electricity, so Jay could easily be a larger species and with consciousness like the other bugs

and now with Kaida, a part of me wants to say that she would be a dragonfly because it fits her so well, but with her history and powers what would make the most sense is that she is some kind of discarded vessel that has escaped the abyss like the Little Ghost did and walks around aimlessly killing infected bugs and causing disaster. That is of course until she meets the idiot with lightning powers who adopts her.

like, her spirit powers are basically the same as the Little Ghost's soul powers, and can you imagine Jay adopting this hellspawn who goes around stabbing corpses with the dream nail, breaking signs, and ringing the bell of a station 800 times just to annoy him? and said hellspawn has to kill god and now he's dragged him along on the quest? it's perfect

[cryptidblue1]

Now that I've slept on this stupid idea, it branched into two paths in my head. I'm going to call them Balanced and Imbalanced for AU names and I'm just going to word spew for a bit in here.

This is probably going to be long, but maybe someone else will scream with me over these ideas. Thus joining me in this trash can I created and fell into.

So Balanced is basically what would happen if the Higher Beings would actually try and win the "Don't fight one another for territory" challenge. Mainly with Radi and the Void. Because let's be real with the few contextual clues we get in game regarding Radiance and the Abyss, Radi def fought some aspect of the Void when she moved in and took over the Hallownest area before Pale King showed up. Which actually gets into my thoughts on the entire Higher Beings need to balance one another out to keep their kingdoms from dying out like they have been in the canon timeline.

Like we kinda figure the Abyss was there first and had its worshipers and such, but since it's the Void that all will return to, it kinda had no checks or balances to keep it from doing what it naturally does. Add in my thinking that the Void got its Will and Mind from its worshipers at first it means that when they kinda started to die off from Void poisoning or got taken/killed off by those who came with or started to follow the Radiance it lost a lot of its ability to think and reason. Thus why Radiance actually won whatever slap fight they got into when she rolled on up.

Now if we go with the process that each Higher Being needs one to Balance it and they actually knew this on an instinctual level and didn't go "MINE" first when settling into a place I think that the Void and the Radiance are like that two halves of a coin thing. Their difference being Light/Dark and Dreams/End. But I am certain both use some form of a hivemind/togetherness regarding the mortals that follow them and empower them. (Which is a thought that goes into a whole Rant about why I think it's this hivemind aspect that actually explains a lot of why the Vessels behaved the way they did in canon.) That and imagine the kind of religion that would spring up when the followers get like the sweetest of a final dreams from the Radiance before the Void takes them at the end of their lives. Like that kinda sounds pretty comforting knowing that when your time comes that due to your faith you're going to go out dreaming the best dream you ever have before you just become part of the Void.

So with this partnership settling I could see them sorta halving Hallownest in general. Like from where Dirtmouth is down to what would be the City of Tears in game would be more Radiance inclined due to her whole Sun motif and thus her worshipers would want to be closer to the sky. (I'm going on the assumption that Dirtmouth actually can see the sky or is where you can go to get access to the sky.) Then from City of Tears area on down would be more where those that lean more towards Abyssal followings would be. Deepnest, The Hive, Greenpath, and City of Tears Area (Which I just know likely had a different name at some point but I"m too lazy to find/make one up right now.) would be more like neutral areas and not really part of either. Especially when Unn kinda vibed in and both sorta just let em because they weren't harming anyone and their influence actually helped out everyone in the long run with the vegetation and wildlands that were created from them existing there. (Fungal hellscape I'm pretending to not perceive for my own sanity.)

Which then kinda leads into the White Lady showing up from wherever she came from. Because I'm pretty sure she kinda was already there when the Pale King showed up. And White Lady kinda becomes the balance for Unn in that Unn is of the wilds and untamed wilderness and White Lady helps show how to cultivate and nurture wildlife for the benefits of the masses. Aka I'm making White Lady the one people ask for blessings to for agriculture and other horticulture aspects and thus make her whole Queen's Garden less her just yoinking land from Unn but them vibing and sharing a domain due to how similar their aspects are and being a lot more chill since they are a balance of one another. (I still think in canon WL just stole that land without a second thought but that's Thoughts for another time.)

So with all this everything kinda already has a strong foundation and flourishing kingdom set up that in no way needs the Pale King right? Well, not exactly. Because outside of the White Lady, and even then you could argue she also kinda does since Roots and such. All these Higher Beings are kinda a hivemind mentality. Which didn't rock the boat with Deepnest and the Hive since the Hive is all for that and Deepnest pretty much has the whole for the clan mentality alongside their survival of the strongest set up. So individuality isn't really a thing, and that kinda feels like a big part of the Pale King's schtick alongside with intellectual pursuits.

So Pale King is definitely needed to allow for individual growth which is what leads to innovation and growth of a kingdom through advancement. Though it likely was a bit Tense when he showed up, especially as I am 100% certain that wyrm kinda started simping very hard and quickly for White Lady when they first met. Though, I have no idea if there is any canon Higher Being that could balance Pale King in this regard since I think Grimm with how they set up the Nightmare Heart it would be more in the Hivemind aspect then individuality. So probably would just need an OC who is like creative inclined and likes to enhance people's individual artistry and likely drives Pale King up the wall because they are pretty opposite in how they do things/personality wise, but like after they get used to one another they basically do what friends with opposite personalities do. Where the OC would help drag PK out of the lab and get air, actually connect with people, etc. While Pale King would make sure the OC would stay on task and such.

So, yeah Hallownest goes through a really odd sort of growing pains era with all these beings all converging on this area. Which probably means that like there is something Significant with this area for why even in canon everyone keeps trying to own this area. Like a leyline or something that makes Hallownest like spiritual powerful.

The Vessels still happen, but in a more controlled and actually all of them living sort of way. Aka they kinda act as bridges/heirs/etc. for the various higher beings. Like some are full on children of the PK and WL and some are kinda created as a means to show the bugs of the kingdom that all the higher beings are you know working together. So like PV/Hallow would like be PK's heir and eldest and like Ghost is like a knight of the Void and Radiance hence why they have the Dream Nail and have a lot of Void powers. Hornet is still a child of PK and Herrah, more as a political move to tie Deepnest more to the rest of the kingdom when Herrah's husband die. So like various vessels have various abilities due to whichever group of deities helped create them.

So like it's a lot of political drama and small fights between factions as everyone kinda test boundaries and sets up what area of life falls under someone's domain. This kinda makes a pantheon of sorts within Hallownest which probably makes the Godseeker kinda try and roll up in here even more then they did before. Which could be interesting considering like bruh y'all could just join the society without that whole make everyone fight and assimilate thing.

Though, that could be like a cool antagonistic aspect that would cause the vessels to have to go feral on a hivemind. More so Ghost and Hornet would would both kick down the door with a few of their more violent siblings to go "This is the wrong neighborhood" at Godseeker when they all kinda realize what exactly Godseeker is up to in regards to their collective parents.

Also this is getting long and I haven't eaten lunch yet/done my dailies in XIV so I"m going to just leave it here for Balanced and do a different post for the Imbalance AU branch where things follow canon, to a point and it's up to the vessels to basically take over domains and balance Hallownest before it just falls apart.

[itswrenlyart]

hollow knight sillies

Suro. Rite.

[nonuggetshere]

Ah, decisions, either drawing The Gays or taking a fuckin hammer to Flower's and Tally's well-being

[bubba-draws]

Me: *has like a dozen art requests in my ask box*

Also me: k but what If I made 71848394 unrelated wips

[year2000electronics]

HERE THEY ARE! here's what everyone would be in my own take on monster falls!! you can agree or disagree, it's just me having fun with it :]

my general lore for the au itself would be that the town of gravity falls is cursed, and if you stay there long enough, you get turned into a monster. most people have some reason not to leave before it's too late and the curse becomes permanent, other just give up and let it happen

monsters under the cut!

dipper: deertaur (unchanged from popular fan choice)

mabel: unicorn (unchanged from sorta-popular fan choice)

stan: gargoyle (unchanged from popular fan choice)

ford: mothman (chosen for being a cryptid, ford has mentioned moths multiple times, mothman being a "shadowy figure", stan being able to pass himself off as ford when you see them both in the dark

soos: fairy (chosen for the irony- he has canonically killed a fairy! and also that he calls everyone "dude" when fae usually take names, fae are usually tricksters but he winds up being very helpful around the shack)

wendy: ghost (chosen because she's related to archibald corduroy, the northwest mansion ghost, also that she's "non-commital" to her job and constantly vanishes from it, also ALSO that her first big episode was themed around ghosts!)

gideon: haunted doll/puppet (chosen because he has creepy doll vibes, and puppets are often associated with performance- think puppet shows, pinocchio, ventriloquist dummy- haunted dolls and living puppets also have a common theme of something childish getting a mean streak.) (also, bud would be a fox in this au as a reference to honest john)

pacifica: dragon (chosen for the northwests' miserly behavior, hoarding of treasure, and pacifica's fiery tongue)

mcgucket: robot (chosen for mcgucket's affinity for robotics, and also for the idea that once he starts using the memory gun, he starts corrupting/mass erasing his own technology and has to repair himself using junkyard scraps)

robbie: cherub (he dyes his wings black to seem like some sort of dark angel. chosen for his last name, his hoodie, and his parents' chipper demeanor. they're a family of morticians who choose to spread the love by burying couples next to each other)

"billy-bob cipher": a vessel bill specifically crafted to hunt the monsters in gravity falls. he went with the idea of a greasy redneck hunter, because that would be the form people would be least willing to argue with about carrying a bunch of guns and traps around.

[bluegekk0]

the exiled god and the old light

au lore below the cut:

the sibling gods who guarded the dreams and nightmares of mortals. in the past, they were united in the dream realm, but grimm's fondness towards the mortals, and the radiance's obsession with living up to their father's legacy brought conflict upon them, and the resulting battle ended with grimm's defeat and exile from the dream realm

---

grimm has always been a rebellious type. unlike his sister, he did not care for worship, and instead found pleasure in mingling with the mortals. he watched over their nightmares, but was no stranger to causing them on purpose and feeding on their essence for his own enjoyment. however, he was just as fascinated by the arts created by the mortals, and grew fond of theatre in particular. unfortunately, his actions did not go unnoticed by his sister, which caused conflict between them, eventually resulting in a battle that he lost. he was exiled from the dream realm, and weakened after the fight, he was forced to flee to the nightmare realm, now split from the plane of dreams. he continued to guard and feed on the nightmares of bugs, but in order to sustain his physical form, he became a slave to the endless cycle of death and rebirth, as the nightmare heart was unable to support the body indefinitely and needed to recycle the flame. he had the choice to burn the physical form and remain in the nightmare realm, and yet, over the years, he gained a certain fondness for the mortals, a fondness which eventually turned to envy. he saw them create bonds, fall in love and make the best of their short lives. he craved a deep connection with someone, but feared getting attached, as he knew that he would outlive any of his loved ones. the troupe, which he formed soon after his exile, was the closest he had to a family, though it wasn't enough: he was still lonely. he tried to distract himself with the pleasures offered by the mortal plane, he drank wine, he made love, and yet it still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his heart. he wouldn't find true happiness until he met the king of hallownest, whom he would start a relationship with following the latter's hibernation

---

the radiance despised her brother's affinity for the mortals. unlike many gods of the dream realm, she did not possess a physical form. she believed in the old ways, where the worship received by the lower beings was the only acceptable relationship with them. she saw grimm's actions as betrayal of their father's trust, and believed that he was not worthy of the powers given to him. after grimm's exile, she remained in the dream realm, unwilling to follow in the footsteps of the other gods. what she did not realize was that the mortals, while easy to intimidate, worked in simple ways. with many of the gods residing in their plane, they gravitated towards believing in what they could see and touch, and over time abandoned the radiance. watching her followers slowly leave her terrified her, but her breaking point would not come until later, when the moths abandoned their ways and chose to follow the pale king. she felt nothing but disdain for him from the moment he arrived in hallownest. she knew he was not born a higher being, that he was a false god, and yet he would still slowly gain followers, a fact which infuriated her. over time, she was almost entirely forgotten, and in a desperate attempt to regain her worship and preserve her father's legacy, she began to infect the mortals' dreams, breaking their minds and forcing them to follow her. however, while the infection claimed the lives of many and lasted many years, it was eventually brought to an end by one of the pale king's vessels. she died overwhelmed the void united, an ancient enemy, the same being her father sacrificed himself to defeat and seal away down in the abyss many centuries prior

(note: the details of their backstories might still change, as i'm actively thinking of new ideas and trying to piece together the chunks of story i have in my head)

[doctorsiren]

Moth Psycho 100 AU

Something that I latched onto for mp100 is the moth imagery for Mogami. More than once is a moth shown as symbolism, but it’s also associated with Mogami more than once, whereas with the other bugs he’s shown associated as, it’s just once i’m pretty sure (even if not, moths show up as symbolism the most so uhhh yeah)

So @cupofchemicalchatter and I cooked up an AU idea :)

Mogami Arc happens as normal except for the very end. Instead of Matsuo catching Mogami’s spirit and trapping him, Mogami is able to go and watch Mob from afar like he said he would: “You made your choice, kid. I’ll keep watching from afar to see if you made the right one.”

At the end of the Mogami Arc, Reigen says: “Anyway, history has shown that no good ever comes from drowning in wealth, fame, or power. Think about it: Mogami let his own powers swallow him up too.” Remember this, as this is important for the AU I’m about to explain. 

And this will go into the next arc, the Separation Arc. The part where Reigen is in the alleyway under the streetlight with those moths above him always felt deeper to a level that it probably wasn’t supposed to be and by that I mean I was connecting it to Mogami’s moth thing.

What am I talking about? Okay well, just imagine the Separation Arc happening as usual UNTIL that moment. The moment where Reigen is in the alleyway:

Mogami had been keeping an eye on both Mob and Reigen, figuring that a way to break Mob was to use someone he cared about, that person being his mentor. So in that moment, Mogami had been possessing / using that moth as his vessel to watch Reigen. The moment that the moth drops dead and Reigen looks up is the moment that Mogami transferred his possession from the moth to Reigen, causing his sudden change. Now he is determined to “become somebody”. Of course, just like in canon and like Mogami did, he starts out by helping people out with their problems. He stated in the Mogami arc: “Mogami? Yeah, I modeled part of my work off him when I started this job.” Mogami stated that “at first, I used my abilities for good, giving advice and solving various problems.” Mogami was the “Psychic Star of the 20th Century”, with Reigen being the “Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century”. Mogami basically told Mob the classic villain thing of “we’re not so different, you and I”, but Mogami now sees that with Reigen as well. Despite the man not having powers, he would prove useful.

Reigen began “developing” psychic abilities. He thought at first that it might have been something residual still left over from when Mob gave him his powers while fighting the Scars, but he soon began to believe that he had dormant abilities that became awoken once he set out on “becoming somebody”. However, it’s actually just the possession from Mogami. He begins to realize that he doesn’t need Mob anymore. He can do exorcisms on his own now! So, he starts pushing everyone away…the people who would be able to actually help him out of this.

Reigen starts to hear a voice in his head. It’s Mogami speaking to him like he did with Mob, but he disguises it as Reigen’s own voice, allowing the conman to think that it’s his own thoughts. Reigen begins to separate himself from this “new” version of himself (which is just Mogami), but not in a way of “oh, these are bad thoughts” but in the way of “this version of me is my only true friend.” Since he’s being possessed, he’s not really thinking rationally. 

His reflection becomes a way that Mogami can communicate visually, while disguised as Reigen, of course. He speaks to Reigen, convincing him further that he doesn’t need anybody. Only himself.

His shadow also becomes a visual way for “Reigen” to communicate (because I thought that would be cool, kind of like Morgana in Ducktales 2017, or in The Princess and the Frog). 

The turning point for where things actually go south is the Supernatural Detective TV spot. When Jodo suggests that Reigen be the one to do the exorcism, instead of letting Jodo trick him, Reigen insists that Jodo go ahead with how the program was planned. In this world, the event is reversed. Jodo actually does the fake exorcism, since it was scripted, but then Reigen steps in and explains there was no evil spirit to exorcise, hence making Jodo the fool rather than Reigen. The host praises Reigen and the child reveals that he was acting the whole time. 

And then begins his true metamorphosis. 

Usually, butterflies are used to represent change, however moths go through that same transformation, but to most, they are held typically in a lesser regard than their daytime counterparts. Not really important, but I just thought it was interesting.

Reigen starts to spiral, becoming more and more of a corrupted conman. He isn’t assassinating people for money like Mogami had done, but he is lying more and more and more. The more he becomes corrupted with power, the more his psychic abilities grow (think Ritsu with Dimple and the student council stuff)/ The idea actually started out by me suggesting that as he gets more corrupted, he starts to cough out moths (sorta like an odd moth-based hanahaki, but having literally nothing to do with unrequited love and he won’t die from the moths. He just coughs them out because we thought that went kinda hard), but of course, he keeps telling himself (as well as Mogami telling him) that he’s fine. 

His powers (Mogami’s powers) are getting stronger and he’s taking out bigger spirits, taking on bigger clients, and becoming a bigger star. He finds himself losing consciousness / disassociating at times, only to wake up and find that he is stronger. It has become a little of a Jekyll and Hyde situation, but while Mogami has control of Reigen’s body, he uses it to consume evil spirits to try and regain the power he lost from fighting Mob. How we’re visually showing the possession is through a scar (like how Dimple has the red cheek spots). He got the scar under his right eye when Mogami exploded that one-way mirror in the Mogami Arc, and since Reigen’s technically being possessed during the duration of the AU (once that moth dies), the scar is visible the whole time.

In the end (we haven’t figured out when but we just know), Mob has to confront Mogami inside Reigen’s head, like he did with Minori. Inside Reigen’s head, it becomes blatant that Reigen isn’t psychic, although Mob’s sorta known that for a while (as it is alluded to at the end of the Separation Arc). But, Mob himself doesn’t want to acknowledge that fact. Reigen always said he had powers! Why would he lie? So although Shigeo knows the truth, Mob doesn’t see it. He pretends that it’s not true. He believes in Reigen’s lies. The student has become the master, in it that Mob is now lying to himself because he can’t bring himself to believe that Reigen lied to him.

After everything, Mob is able to separate Mogami from Reigen (but of course, not without everyone getting their fair share of trauma). The scar goes away, as he is no longer possessed. He’s back to being powerless, and now he knows that it was Mogami the whole time. However, Mob says that line. He says how he’s known that his master is genuinely a good guy, because it wasn’t on his own that he did all that conning and evil spirit stuff. It was because of Mogami’s corruption and influence. I think Matsuo would still somehow come across Mogami’s spirit and capture him, just so that it can come in handy later when he’s used in the World Domination Arc bc I don’t wanna mess that up lmao

Anyways yeah that was my attempt at compiling some frantic and excited discord DMs about this AU into something somewhat cohesive! Now here’s art for the AU, because I wanted to share them, but I needed to explain what was going on first!

This was the first one I did for the AU, when I knew I needed to draw something up for the concept of him getting corrupted and coughing moths 😄

And then the shadow and mirror thing (I LOVE the one of “Reigen” in the reflection oughhhh)

If you remember that post where I said I woke up and found I had written “twink controlling a twink” the night prior, this is what it was in relation to 😭 why did I call Mogami a twink very very late at night? Who knows. The important thing is that doing so altered everything and now he is one in my mind, so I can’t do anything about it. Don't ask why this page seems really fruity, it was like 3 AM and over a week ago so I don't know (/silly)

These were from when I was rewatching the Mogami Arc to pick up details for the AU

Moths have the patterns on their wings to mimic eyes, so there’s that inherent aspect of deception and lying. It makes the moths seem like a bigger threat than they actually are. (also I have him wearing Mogami's blazer and shirt)

And then just the moths and such with Mogami’s spirit

And me pulling a quote from when Dimple was explaining who Mogami was.

YEAH I just really love drawing stuff for this AU bc of the fun moth symbolism.If none of any of this makes sense, I’m so sorry. I just needed to finally post about this AU bc it’s given me brainmoths (like brainworms, but y’know)

We kinda came up with the AU backwards and filled in random spots here and there after the fact of our original conjuration of it, so I had to try and piece it together HAHA 

[actuallysaiyan]

bacon!!! 🩷🩷🩷 could we maybe see prompts 5 and 10 with yuji, and they're in college?

event here.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, creampies, college AU!, canon divergent, AGEDUP!COLLEGEAGE!Yuji, oral sex(fem receiving), virginity loss, Yuji isn't Sukuna's vessel in this one. word count: 1.2k(got a lil carried away with this one) pairings: Agedup!Yuji Itadori x Fem!Reader prompts: Person B and Person A as friends in school before they’re together. They awkwardly use each other to learn how to/practice kissing and end up making out passionately until their mouths are sore. Person A and Person B's first time.

Yuji easily became your friend when you got into college. He was the boy with the sunniest smile in all your classes, and soon you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He was so easy to get along with, and you discovered pretty quickly that you two had so much in common. Spending your days with your new best friend was the highlight of your time here in college. The only thing that was a bit off was the fact that you were desperate to get laid and lose your virginity. And you weren’t about to force Yuji into something so stupid when you were very sure that he had already had sex already.

But what you didn’t know was that Yuji was trying to save himself for someone very special. And Yuji happened to think you were that someone special.

One night, after classes, you invited him back over to your dorm room for a study session/movie night. You had planned for this to be so laid back, and Yuji shows up in his sweatpants and hoodie. There’s a big smile on his face as he shows you the snacks he’s brought for the movie. 

“I didn't know which ones you preferred, so I got them all!” he says, a nervous laughter ringing out. He shows you every chocolate bar and all the flavors of chips. 

He sits on your bed, the big bag of snacks dumped onto the duvet. You sit right next to him, turning on the movie you picked and you two begin snacking and lightly studying. You ask him a question and for everyone he gets right, you throw a skittle into his mouth. He does the same thing with you, but instead he throws a M&M into yours. This becomes a very fun game for the both of you, making you both giggling like crazy.

Eventually, Yuji leaned back on your bed. You can’t help but check him out, noticing just how much you enjoy seeing him like this. He looks up from his phone and smiles shyly. He’s so smitten by you, but he really doesn’t know how to tell you. He wants it to come naturally, but it’s hard when he feels his heart beating like crazy and his palms get sweaty whenever he only just thinks about confessing.

You sit up on the bed, approaching him. He looks up again, that same cute smile on his face. You realize how you could make this work in your favor. Maybe if he agrees to your little game, you’ll be able to finesse the rest of this to work out.

“Hey Yuji,” you start. “Wanna play a little game?”

Yuji laughs, “alright!”

You explain to him that you’re going to play a kissing game. This makes you both blush, but he doesn’t back out. You explain that the rules are simple; kiss each other as best as you can. Make the other person completely breathless and flustered. Then once you’re done, if you manage to make the other person breathless and flustered, you win the best candy bar from the bag.

“Alright, you’re on!” Yuji shouts, his tone full of gusto and determination.

It takes a little time for both of you to stop giggling, but eventually, Yuji cups your cheeks and pulls you closer. You look into his beautiful eyes and you know you’ll never feel the same way for anyone else. You swear your heart stops when his lips press against yours. It’s all so beautiful like this. You’ve thought of this moment a million times, but still it’s way better than you ever could imagine.

When he pulls away, you’re both a little flustered. You decide to just continue the game, kissing his lips. Yuji feels butterflies erupting in his tummy. He’s always felt this way about you, but this was something new. A new territory for both of you to explore together.

Your little game goes on for a bit, both of you foregoing the game to really just have an excuse to make out. Eventually, you both pull away to breathe and you’re both giggling nervously. Your lips almost hurt from the amount of kissing you’ve been doing with your best friend. That’s when Yuji looks over at you and he presses you down onto the bed. He has you playfully pinned underneath him.

“Hey honey…” he murmurs softly before kissing you. “I want you to know that I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I first met you. I have been waiting to have sex for the first time with someone I love.”

There’s a ringing in your ears and your heart skips a beat as you come to terms with what he’s just said. You return the sentiment, confessing that you’re also a virgin and you had wanted to find the right person as well.

“Then, I think this is the perfect moment…”

He cups your cheeks and kisses you so sensually. As your tongues dance together, Yuji makes quick work of removing your clothing. You do the same thing to him, your hands splaying against the beautiful muscular parts of his body. Once he’s got you completely naked, he takes his time kissing all over your body. He finds all your erogenous zones, taking advantage of having found such sensitive spots of your body.

By the time he’s between your thighs, your heart is racing and you’re completely aroused. You watch as he spreads your thighs and presses a sweet kiss to your mound. You buck up as his tongue presses against your wet folds, lapping at you like you’re his final meal. The way Yuji works your body towards such a sticky climax is heavenly.

You’re shuddering and twitching as you come down from that high, but Yuji barely gives you any time to recover. He’s sliding into you, making sure to go slow as he stretches you out for the first time. When he’s bottomed out, you’re both looking down at where you’re connected. It’s such a beautiful moment. He leans in and kisses you.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you,” Yuji mumbles as he begins rocking his hips.

“Oh Yuji…I love you too,”

You cling to him as he thrusts deeply into you. He never expected it to feel this good, and he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to try and ground himself. Already his balls are drawing up as his orgasm becomes imminent. He feels so lost in all of this pleasure, but there is a rational thought that enters his brain. Will you let him cum inside you?

“Baby…” he huffs softly. “Can I…can I please cum inside you? Please can I cum inside you? Please please?”

Your heart flutters as you hear these sweet yet lewd pleas. You know it’s irresponsible to let him do this, but you’re ready to throw caution to the wind. You nod your head and moan out a yes.

“Shit! Fuck, oh fuck! Honey, I’m gonna cum inside you! Is it okay? Tell me you want me to cum inside you!”

You begin begging him to fill you up, and with just a few more thrust of his hips, Yuji is emptying himself into you. His hips stutter and he lets out the cutest little whimpers as the pleasure overtakes him. Shots of sticky, hot cum fill your tight little cunt, making you feel so warm. Slowly, he comes down from his high and slumps on top of you.

“Good study sesh,” Yuji says with a cute little laugh. You can’t help but agree.

[holybibly]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader ❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut ❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love. ❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior. ❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

English is not my native language, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know.

Published on AO3 like FleurRi

❣ Prologue: Roses scarlet like blood ❣

 Every story has a beginning: a magical, inexplicable moment—an elusive contact between reality and dreams. When thoughts emerge from the edge of consciousness, a stream of colorless letters appears on the parchment of our fate, eventually becoming an event. Life's intersections, fragments of various plots, are continuously repeated, lost, or deliberately forgotten. They are like unwritten melodies; the echo of their angelic voices follows us through life, like the bright tent of a wandering circus that incessantly makes noise. is full of tinsel, and raves with dreams.

  There are millions of them. No. Billions, like the sleeping stars, sway peacefully on the sky-blue wire; their scattered light tells the wayward souls the way in the velvet folds of the night's darkness. These are our memories. Some are dazzlingly bright, as fresh as summer breezes, while others are barely flickering, covered in the marble ashes of time and a diamond crumb of emotion. And they all live so far away and at the same time prohibitively close together, there, in the labyrinth of the underground sky and on the endless roads of the blood rivers, where it is impossible to find them: in our memory.

  Just as a pebble thrown into the ocean sinks into the murky depths, so does memory. Drowning into the viscous muddy depths without a bottom, in that rich and uncharted area that we call “oblivion,” it sinks in time. And few of us have been given the opportunity to preserve living images of memories of the feelings we have ever experienced: to drown in the bittersweet water of sorrow and joy; to fill our consciousness to the brim, like a vessel with golden honey, with the feelings of pain and keen passion, and to die. Die happy. The greatest privilege of all.

  Seconds, minutes, days, and years—colorful fragments of time; sharp crumbs scattered under our feet. Unlike us, those who plunge into eternal sleep, our memories that have insidiously dissolved in ink in our blood will not disappear. They fear death, flee from it, and hide in the thick of the earth that blossoms with fluttering glass, forget-me-nots and drunken petunias that, in their intoxicating happiness, kiss the eyelashes of the blind God. You hear them whisper, “I’ll never forget you…”

  My story begins with an innocent question that I’m sure you’ve heard more than once: “Do you like roses?”

  Once upon a time, I would have answered, "Yes, I love roses." But, as it turns out, all our words are followed by consequences, and small rosy spikes can be much more dangerous than they seem at first glance, just like in the fairy tales that we were told in childhood.   You know, there are things that we might call fatal: people who decide other people’s lives as long as they reach out to them like they're God. And then there are the flowers, which keep the mysteries tenebrous and ancient.   I'm almost a hundred years old, maybe more. I should start my story right now; this is the perfect moment.

  I will tell you about who I once was and who I am now. I will tell you about love, which is akin to obsession, and the death of her faithful friend. I will also tell you about the people, ghosts, or maybe illusions that were around me. They were with me once…   Now, there are others, but they’ll be in my story later. They will come into my life with a chorus of angelic voices; the sound of a heavy autumn downpour, and the pretentious solemnity of death. Yeah, they’ll be there, though, if you think about it, they were always there, from my first breath to my last breath, by my side.   But I’m forgetting what’s important.   I have to tell you about the roses, and only about them.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

Mina's long hair shimmered like luxurious silk under the early morning light. Bloody strands fell in curled doll curls onto her bare shoulders, as if in Baroque paintings. The lush blossoms of white roses woven together in her hair made her look like the ancient Greek goddess of spring.   Her appearance has always been astonishing, blatantly perfect rather than real, but that was sometime in the past. Now she was like a pale ghost of herself, a blurry reflection on a black surface of water on a moonlit night. The only thing that reminded her of her former beauty was her hair, which remained perfectly groomed and scarlet, like blood. Oh yeah, there are still roses.  These flowers… there was something unnatural about them, something otherworldly. Each petal was painfully perfect, as if made of satin. But the flowers were real; they were alive and breathing and too demanding. It seemed that just because they wanted this, Mina could wear them in her hair. It was their choice, not hers.  “Do you like roses, Rosa?” · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

This is the moment when my life changed forever. If I had known that this innocent question would be the beginning of my end, but can this be called the end? Would my answer have been different?

  I’ve thought about it a thousand times. Over and over again, I played this scene like a broken record, crossed my answer out of the script, wrote a new one, and made comments and footnotes, but…   But the answer was the same. I couldn’t change anything; it was destined. Much later, when I fall asleep in a warm bed, I will feel a gentle kiss on my closed eyelids and hear San’s angelic voice whisper in my ear that fate is never wrong. That they would find me or that I would come to them does not matter; in the end, we would still be together in life and in death. In eternity.

  I’ll come back to that later, I promise. In the meantime, I’ll continue. · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

“They’re beautiful, Mina, but I don’t like them anymore.”  I sounded terribly rude from the outside, and I could see Mina’s eyes filled with tears, as if I had slapped her.

 “But Rosa!” Mina reached out her pale arms to me. “Look how perfect they are; don’t you care about their beauty? Doesn’t your heart beat faster when you look at them? O Rosa, these flowers are special; they never wilt.” She shook her head, as if confirming her words. “Yeosang gave them to me before I left” Her long, thin fingers reaching for the white rosebuds in her hair. “I want to give you one.” Hooking the flower, Mina gently pulled it out of her curls and stretched it towards me. I didn't have the desire to accept her gift; something in her behavior and her voice caused me anxiety. And there was this name: Yeosang. It wasn’t the first time I heard it, but it was a long time ago, and I still remember that Mina mentioned others with that name: Hongjoong, San, and Mingi. They sounded familiar to me as a song once learned by heart. She pronounced them in a special way: with a gentle intonation and an exciting euphoria. As if it had been repeated countless times at the same completely new to her.  All I could hear was the echo of that song, which came along with those names in the conversation. It was an ominous echo, like an impending, inevitable storm. Mina was still holding out a rose, and I looked at her hands. Arms with a faint web of blue veins that looked like dried stems of faint flowers. For some reason, I came up with the idea of sirens holding out their hands to pirates while their voices led them into the welcome embrace of death. Did they look like Mina’s hands now?

I remember these hands weaving long pearl threads into my hair during festivals. I remember the feeling of intertwined fingers as Mina led me down the dark corridors of my grandmother's old house. I remember them gently wiping my tears when I was rubbing my feet until I bled in ballet class.

I remember the touch of those hands… I know him. These cold fingers that so carefully hold the snow-white flower no longer belong to my sister. Their touch changed, becoming foreign and distant, as did the mysterious land where these perfect, never-fading roses grew.

Didn’t that sound like a fairy tale? Just in our history, there has been no magic mirror, no Queen-Witch whose crown shines like a star, and no apple full of poison, but there is a coffin of shimmering crystal, and a prince that sleeps in it. Of course, there are also roses—thousands of roses.

“Rosa” Mina turned to me again. “Please take them; you will surely love them. Just try to feel them…”

She put a flower in my hands. The drops of nectar froze on the wax petals, and the first rays of the dawn sun made them sparkle like diamonds. “This variety is special.” Her voice sounded soft. “It's called the Deva-Rosa. I want to show you where they grow. It’s so beautiful. I want you to come with me, Rosa. We’ll be there together, you and me.” Mina smiled dazzlingly, but something was wrong with that smile. The once-sensual kiss lips were painfully curved, the corners awfully lifted, like the forever-frozen smile of a Venetian mask, and the warm pink shade was gone.

I was always jealous of her lips. They were so tender, plump, and enticing. All her features attracted attention, but it was her lips that made Mina's beauty unique.

She shone like the sun, easily becoming the center of everyone's attention—a beautiful white swan. The main heroine of the story. 

Then there was me, only a shadow of her perfection—gloomy and pale as the moon, the complete opposite of the burning heat and the sexuality of my sister. Unlike Mina's, my features were not sensual and breathtaking; no, they were old-fashioned, like those of a porcelain doll. I didn’t find myself ugly or unattractive; just ordinary. One of a hundred million. The classic tragic heroine of a Gothic novel, someone like me, doesn’t make it to the finale.

Now looking at Mina, I can no longer see her life; her fire has almost been extinguished, leaving embers smoldering. And only her hair, like a burning sunset, was the only bright spot in her appearance. They crimson her white dress like blood rivers in the snow. 

 “Rosa, come with me.” The touch of her hands was icy and gave me a nasty shiver. It wasn’t Mina anymore. “Let's go, please. We can admire roses together. We can be together, Rosa. Remember what we promised each other when we were kids? Forever.”   Mina leaned towards me with her whole body, completely trespassing into my space, and with her intimacy came the suffocating, sugary smell of roses. It was a thick, enveloping aroma that instantly sat in the lungs. I thought that if I breathed it in deeper, these strange, unnatural flowers would sprout in my veins, intertwine with my bones, and create a new home for themselves in my body.

 “No!” I exclaimed, pushing Mina away from me. “I don’t want that, Mina. I don’t want you or those freaking roses in my life.”

  Suddenly on my feet, I took a few steps away from the pale Mina, who was staring at a rose that had fallen to the ground. Her posture was as vulnerable as that of a wounded animal, and her limp arms reached for the flower, which, surprisingly, began to darken and fade, touching the ground.   In her eyes, once radiant with happiness and dreaming, stood tears, and her lips began to tremble. It was as if a child whose beloved toy had been mercilessly abused had fallen to her knees, picked up a dying bud, and, in despair, pinned it to her lips.

“How can you be so cruel, Rosa?” Mina whispered, her lips gently touching the petals. “You hurt them; it breaks their heart. Can’t you just accept their love? Accept the roses?” She continued to kiss the petals.

 “What are you talking about, Mina? Whose love should I accept?” I asked cautiously. Her behavior began to frighten me.

 “You must give yourself to them, Rosa; I must give you to them.” Mina ignored my question, methodically kissing a faded flower. His dead petals began to fall away, slowly, baring his heart. “O Rosa, the rose is a rose; the rose is a deva; the deva is a rose; is a rose.”

 “Mina!” I called her by her name in an alarm. The entire situation had me in a state of primitive terror.   Mina began slowly swaying from side to side in time to your words, all the while continuing to say, “Rose is a rose, the rose is a deva.” It was meaningless, like the ravings of a madman.  The words were repeated in an endless circle, like a prayer or a ritual chant. Mina’s voice grew louder, higher, and higher until it broke, and abruptly she stopped all movement, standing there like a graceful statue.

  Once I admired her every move; now I want to cover my eyes so I never have to see her again.   What happened after became the most traumatic thing in my life. I can never forget it, no matter how much I want it. It seemed to be imprinted on my eyelids, and even after closing my eyes in my sleep, I couldn’t get rid of those memories.

  Her movements were fleeting, like the wings of a butterfly. Here she is before me, tense and waiting, and then her throat crosses a ragged line, and blood rushes through her body like a waterfall.

  Eyes shining from tears are wide open and so resemble smooth black pearls, and lips are opened as if waiting for a kiss.   For a second, Mina's body stretched like a thin string and then softened, falling on the grass.   I heard someone start screaming; the sound was so deafening and heartbreaking that I wanted to curl up in a ball and cover my ears with my hands, so I couldn’t hear.

  I found myself screaming. I needed to call for help; I had to call an ambulance, and I had to try to help her. Put my arms around her neck and cover her gaping red velvet wound.

  But I was yelling about something else instead.   My name is not Rosa; you hear me, Mina!   I am not her. · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

I awoke in a frenzy, sweating profusely and with a wildly pounding heart from an endlessly recurring nightmare.

 This dream has haunted me for months since Mina’s funeral. Night after night, I have lived this sunrise over and over again. I didn’t like morning anymore; I started avoiding sunlight and hiding in the velvet folds of the night, sharing my loneliness with the darkness. I made the moon my friend, and the stars my silent witnesses.

  My memory is folded paper, folded a thousand times. Sometimes, I want to unwrap it, but not completely: open the brittle edges of the fragile sashes, smooth out the folds and creases with my fingers, spread out the time sequence. Unwrap it just a little, and then fold again, mixing letters and days, reality and dreams. I never want to open the pages where the memories of that morning are stored. Every time I get almost to the end, moments before the final, I run away to the safety of happy days.

  I try to come up with a new ending to this story, a different ending, but the dream comes to me like a cat, gently calling me into its embrace, and I find myself again in a place I don’t want to be.

  It’s early in the morning, and the sun is just rising above the horizon, shimmering like a limitless purple-pink ocean.

 In Mina’s crimson hair are snow-white roses, and her dress looks like an intricately woven ruffle and lace. Her pale hands holding flowers, her puffy lips in a painful smile, and her bare feet—the ground must be cold since it was the middle of October.  Her blood… and the roses.   And if it were possible to personify hatred and death, then for me, it would be roses.

  I hated and despised these flowers with all my heart. They brought only sorrow and gloominess into my life. The beautiful symbol of mourning solemnity.   They started it. They ended it all.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

I was sixteen when Mina first called me Rosa. One January afternoon, she came home with a basket of the most gorgeous flowers I’ve ever seen in my life. Scarlet like the blood of a rose, they were magnificent and perfect. From that day on, I became Rosa. Why did Mina start calling me that? She never spoke.   But she completely forgot my real name. For the whole world, I was now Rosa.   After this case, every day in our small apartment, the roses became more and more numerous, until every inch of free space was filled with scarlet buds. Their smell was suffocating, thick, and sticky like honey. It is absorbed into the skin, hair, and dissolved in the blood. It made me dizzy and nauseous, and I could taste it on my tongue with every breath.   But it wasn’t just a smell. It was a color that screamed “red,” like blood itself. It poured over our house, coloring the entire apartment in a disturbing shade.

  After that, every day in our house, the roses became more and more numerous until they filled all the surrounding space.

  Soon, they became so numerous that our house looked like a tomb filled with scarlet petals hanging from the ceiling. We've been arranging here with all honors, breathing in a haze as imperceptible as rose-scented mist. 

  In all the time I lived there, not a single flower withered. It was frightening and exciting at the same time. Day followed night, and night gave way to day; but no petal lost its pristine beauty, and no bud bowed its heavy head in sorrow. There was not a single bouquet that would dilute this velvet sea with its mourning black.

  And if that did happen, Mina cried long and hard over these flowers and blamed herself for not saving them. At night, I heard the sound of her apologies and her fanatical prayers. 

  Whether she prayed to God or to the Devil, I couldn't tell. I'll find out for whom these prayers were intended many years later.

  Roses were always sent with a postcard and a box of expensive chocolates with some intricate filling. The box was necessarily in the form of a heart. The signature was also one; once the unchanged calligraphic handwriting deduced only one phrase, “For you,”

  Mina never told me who gave her these magic flowers or why the roses didn’t wither.

  I tried to ask her these questions several times, but she only brushed them off, throwing her long hair from one shoulder to the other and angrily declaring, “You must love them; you don't need to know more.”

 Mina also dyed her hair scarlet, like roses.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. Constantly surrounded by these flowers was unbearable, and one day I packed up all my things and moved in with a friend, leaving Mina alone in her regal rosary.

  My first night away from home, away from the roses and Mina, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned anxiously in bed hour after hour; but the dream never came, and then the phone rang. Mina called. Crying, she begged to come home, and when I asked her why, she barely whispered, “The roses are wilted.”

  I hung up, and Mina never called me again. Two years had passed. My life had changed, and I think my luck had smiled. I found wonderful friends who were eccentric and bright. I had a great and caring boyfriend, and the internship at ballet school was promising. Everything worked out perfectly, and there were no more roses.

 Until my twentieth birthday, a huge bleeding bouquet of scarlet roses tied with topaz-embroidered ribbon appeared in my new apartment. The candy box was heart-shaped, and the caption read, “For You.”

  I burned the bouquet, threw out the chocolate, and tore the note apart, and blew it to the wind.

  No one was supposed to see or know.   Even me.    Exactly eight days after these flowers appeared, I got a call from former neighbors in the apartment complex Mina was still living in.   I was urged to come and deal with the situation; the smell of rot and death was unbearable, and Mina didn't open the doors or answer the phone.   I opened the door with my key. Opening it wide, I crossed the threshold and could not contain a short scream. All the once-luxurious roses had rotted, dripping thick, stinking jugs on the floor and accumulating in gleaming poisonous lakes. Every corner of the space was occupied by large vases with black velvet buds and tall candles. After my move, Mina got rid of all the furniture, leaving only the big bed, which was now covered with dried stems strewn with thorns.

 This place was like a grave — cold and dark — where my sister was supposed to rest.   Going deeper, I found no hint of Mina's presence. Absolutely nothing.     Only putrid roses and an empty heart-shaped box.

  Mina was gone. For a whole year, I tried to find her without success. Old friends, distant relatives, acquaintances, and any other connections she might have ever had—I checked everything, but there was nothing to help me find her. It’s like she never existed.

 In the two years we’ve been apart, I didn’t know anything about her. Mina didn’t call, and when I tried to contact her, she would reply with a short message, always the same: "Roses have wilted; come back." just like the night I left her.

  All Mina had ever thought about since that unfortunate January day were these sinister roses.

  The police began an investigation. Two years after her disappearance, Mina became officially missing.

  And a year after that, she showed up at my door in the twilight of the fall morning, barefoot, in a sophisticated lace dress with a rose crown on her head. From the Mina that I knew, all that remained was her hair—long, silky, and crimson like blood and roses.

  She still kept calling me Rosa, calling me out, and promising that we’d be happy together. That it will be only us, forever. She promised to show me where these strange flowers bloom, which she called the Deva-Rose, although these were not her words, but those of someone distant and unfamiliar to me, Hongjoong.

  And then...then Mina died. The dawn painted her body in pink shades, flooded the grass with sparkling gold, and dyed the white roses of her crown scarlet. She slit her throat. Ragged a sharp spike into it. As it turned out, even the tiniest rose spikes were deadly.   It was a nightmarish and, at the same time, majestic end to her story.   The image of Mina haunts me in dreams even now—this distant gaze in her pearly eyes and a complete absence of fear of death. No, Mina wasn't afraid. She welcomed death as an old friend, graciously opening her arms.

  It was her exodus.   I remember screaming loudly. Blood thundered in my ears, and tears flowed in an endless crystal stream. I screamed that my name wasn’t Rosa; that I wasn’t her, and never would be.

  Her funeral was truly a royal one. Rain and thunder rattle in the sky, as if raising a toast in her honor. The flat haloes of the black umbrellas swayed peacefully as the guests made their sorrowful speeches.

  Mina seemed to fall asleep, dressed in an old-fashioned wedding dress, lying there like a princess, drowning in thousands of roses.   The flowers were brought at dawn. Their color was deep and dark, as if every petal was filled with the gloaming of the night. They mourned with me.   But I knew better. It wasn’t the end; it was the beginning.  Death follows life in an endless cycle of rebirth. When one flower fades, plant a new one.  Back home that night, I found a black envelope at my door, sealed with a monogram wax seal.

  It lacked an address and the sender's signature. The message was clear and concise. "I live for you, my Rosa."

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·   I went to the window and opened the curtains with my newfound determination. It’s time to stop being afraid and run away. Whatever it is, I’ll find out what happened to Mina. Let her start it all, but I’ll be the one to finish the story.   The last surviving girl.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·   How naive I was then, how stupid. The moth always flies to the flame, attracted by the warm fluttering light; he himself goes to his death.

I was that moth. Without realizing it, I came to my inevitable fate, which has been waiting for me for centuries, maybe longer. Their hands have stretched out since the darkest times, when the light didn't exist, and the Devil was as real as you and I. At that time, everyone knew his face, felt his hot breath on his skin.   The story I’m going to tell you isn't going to be bright and sweet; we’re going to go down to hell and come back. I'll take you through the dark woods to the horrors of uncharted lands where barefoot priestesses rock their sharp teeth in alluring smiles. I will take you to the castle where the prince rests in a crystal coffin and make you drink wine that tastes like blood.

  Now I have to ask you, "Are you afraid of the dark and what’s hidden in it?"   But my question is, "Love, do you like roses?"

[camthecatchameleon]

youve heard of moths as iterators

now get ready for: Dreamers as iterators

feel free to use designs (with credit ofc)

what do you think their Iterator names should be?

w/o veils and AU thoughts under cut:

i think in this crossover/AU the Ancients would be the gods (Pale King, White Lady, Radiance, Grimm etc)

I’m not sure how the vessels would fit into this, but Hornet and Quirrel would definitely be slugcats created/modified by Herrah and Monomon.

[machine-finch]

New art ref for Noon! Just in time for art fight :3

Noon is from an au in which (instead of following PK) the moth tribe left and established their own kingdom. After her dominion grew, the Radiance decided she needed a way to be more present in her people's lives. Getting an idea from her brother the Nightmare King, she created a vessel for herself. But, while she watched it grow into an adult form, appropriate for a goddess, Noon sort of happened to fill the emptiness. In her endless mercy, the Radiance decided not to get rid of him but kept him as her child instead. So Noon was left with this gift of life and without a purpose to haunt the hallways of her temple. Her child in name, but not in use. That is, until an offer came to the Radiance from the dreaded Wyrm: his heir to be wed to one of hers.

[littlexdeaths]

𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚆𝙸𝙿𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

thank you for tagging me @myspacebrat @thecreelhouse and @strangerstilinski smooching all of you 🥺

misery business: set in the late 2000’s at the van’s warped tour. you’re corroded coffin’s favorite little groupie, attached at the hip to their lead singer/guitarist eddie munson. but you’re not his only groupie. so after another night of being fucked and tossed aside you’re found crying by one robin buckley. lead singer of the band sweet misery, who also happens to really hate eddie munson. she makes you an offer you really can’t refuse, and soon you’re caught in the middle of a love & sex filled feud between both front runners. but who will win this battle of the bands?

a touch of evil: a follow up fic to sympathy for the devil, a supernatural au. after your run in with the demon kas the bloody-handed, your life has been completely turned upside down. despite your efforts to find both kas, and his new favorite vessel (and the love of your life) eddie munson— they both remain in the wind. but what happens when you’re on a hunt and a very bloody, and demonless eddie shows up at your motel room door?

eras of us series (this installment is untitled as of now): your first life together since troy fell. set in a small village in the rolling hills of ireland, you find yourself unwillingly engaged to one william hargrove. it is a loveless relationship, one brought together by the likes of your greedy father. but when a new blacksmith rolls into town, you’re immediately drawn to him like a moth to a flame. almost as if you’ve known his soul in another life...

i’m terrible at descriptions so i hope these suffice lmao.

no pressure tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @keeksandgigz @babygorewhore @theold-ultraviolence @munsonhoneybaby @lokis-army-77 @munson-blurbs @uglypastels @chaptersleftunwritten @devil-in-hiding @strangersmunsons @eddiexmunsonlover @madelynraemunson @mediocredreams & if you’re seeing this and want to— DO IT !! 🫡