𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆!!

SUNNY !  ♡  ( he / they. )  ♡  25+.   ♡  UTC -5.  █  an indie rp blog for the ORIGINAL HELLHOUND known as RAMSEY who is now topside and causing all kinds of trouble while going by the name BLUE. original lore mixed with influences from shows like supernatural and lucifer. check out the links below before interacting, thank you!! ♡  

A HELLISH STUDY IN : the ‘anger’ stage of grief, using partying to cope with literally everything, loyalty to the actual devil, who the goodest boy is, the consequences of biting the actual hand of god, how everything is about either love or the lack thereof, and what it means to be a very bad dog in an even worse world.

      stands in the corner, munching on a bowl of snacks he’d randomly found . 

brown eyes are instantly moving to look towards him, though vex soon rolls their eyes. ’ make someone press a hot iron to their face,  — kinda crime. ’ words are spoken seriously, flatly. and then a grin breaks on their lips.  ’ though last time i did that, it kinda ruined the iron. it was a real shame. ’ sarcasm drips off their words. vex is nothing, if not known for their rather sociopathic tendencies, disregard for hurting others, if only for their own amusement. ‘ though if someone were to kiss me. tell me i’m pretty. i could be distracted. ’

brows shoot up as lips curve into a little smile as vex describes their intentions   ---   as they offer a better insight to just where their mood lies. sarcastic. blue wonders if kissing them would fill his mouth with the taste of something bitter or not. amusement comes and mixes with endearment; oh, there’s something about that drive towards violence   ---   something that makes the hound miss grabbing people and dragging them downward with his teeth. nostalgia keeps his hand on a cheek, keeps the two of them close as he hums out.

  ‘ if someone doesn’t kiss me i’m going to commit a crime. ’

oh. a hand reaches out   ---   touch so warm when he comes in contact with a cheek. the moment is there. welcoming. suggestive. hallmark, eat your goddamn heart out. there is that split second in time where his head ducks and it looks like the kiss is coming but then he pauses, close enough to speak against tiers.

             Shaggy felt wildly out of place in the crowded, flashy club. Lux wasn’t his kind of scene. He dressed the part. Had more than enough of a reputation and contacts to get in, but then again some nights it didn’t even seem exclusive. Shaggy wandered the club with a drink in hand, barely a glance spared at the dancers. The bar was too crowded, everyone seemed occupied, and Shaggy had no idea where to start with what he was looking for. 

              Vincent said something was weird about the place. About the owner. Some of the workers, perhaps. Something otherworldly, not quite right. Shaggy didn’t even want to touch the place. There was something weird about it, alright. He had that bad feeling he got sometimes, the one he didn’t really understand, but knew it meant something was about to happen. Or someone bad was around the corner. He used to run away from that feeling. Now he followed it like a moth to a bug zapper. 

                         “Uh, hey!” Shaggy shouted over the music, a half-baked idea in mind. He recognized the guy as the one who had been performing not too long ago. “You really know how to win a crowd, man! Think you can, like, help a guy out? I’ve got a group who’d wanna perform here, but I haven’t been able to meet the guy who owns the place. Any tips?”

            It’s a perfect fucking night in Lux; the microphone loud and the walls absolutely packed with people eager to get lost in whatever they can. For some, a few drinks and songs is more than enough   —   but for creatures like Blue, the party cannot come to a stop. The hound had been especially energetic on stage, a warning that this night will likely be a long one if he can get away with it, and his time in the crowd isn’t really much different. There’s an interesting cocktail in his veins as he weaves through people   —   occasionally stopping for a bit of a distraction when they show their faces. People. They are difficult for him to understand. Some of these humans show up almost every night and others get a taste and realize that Lux isn’t a good fit. Blue loses them quickly. Names come   —   little personal stories sometimes follow but Blue forgets it all by the time the sun comes up. It’s the same noise again and again. The same party, ongoing. It suits him, well; he all but glows under the attention that people give him when it comes and yet sometimes people stick out   —   sometimes something special grabs his attention and then it’s hard to get rid of.             Tonight that something special is a man who looks like he doesn’t want to be in Lux at all. Out of place. Shaggy isn’t won over by beats booming out of speakers, isn’t trying to drown himself in people or poison. Rare   —   but always worth the time. Interesting. A change in pace, even with words that ring a little familiar. It doesn’t take much to get Blue grinning, to make the hound all but loom. Knowing. This man isn’t here for the dancers, isn’t here to drink and make a few lovely mistakes. No. It takes hearing ‘the guy who owns the place’ to make Blue’s entire night; a newcomer. A non-believer. Someone who hasn’t looked upon Lucifer Morningstar’s face and come to the understanding that the devil is very real and he enjoys the taste of ranch. Thrilled, Blue’s head tips as if he even needs to think   —   as if Shaggy isn’t suddenly a toy in his mouth.

there’s a glance towards him, finally. ‘ then what are you waiting for ? go on then. get on your knees, and beg me. beg me, to put my sixteen hundred dollar shoes against your pretty little throat. ’

aha. the glance is encouraging enough on its own   ---   but then words are following and the hound’s grin only widens. a slight step is taken for the sake of getting closer before he does as he’s told; body lowering until knees touch the floor.  damned if it doesn’t look something like worship. and he doesn’t seem to want to be anywhere else.

 ‘ if that was the case, all you had to do was ask. that’s what good boys do. ’

the hum comes out   ---   low. entirely uncalled for, like the way he looms closer.  tempted, thoroughly. and yet somehow respectful of distance despite his mouth.

  ‘ and how did you think that was going to go for you ? ’

       His returning smile is brief, tight at the sides to show the slightest TENSION….bitterness more like. What Blue did….it’s irreversible at this point. Is there such a point to vengeance, to hard feelings?

              “New and improved, baby.”

           Dean follows their little circling before they come back to step in front of him and he leans forward, sudden in taking the other by the chin, thumb pressed to Blue’s lower lip. Tapping with each enunciation on the final words.

            “Have YOU to thank for that…don’t I? Yes. I. do.”    

      Excitement. Oh, it’s RARE to get to look into the face of those he’d gotten his jaws around before   ---   to see the souls that dig deep and drag themselves back to the very tippy top despite everything. Winchesters are a tricky little bunch, for sure   ---   and this soul in particular seems suited by the charred edges Hell has caused it.       New and improved, yes. BOLDER, still   ---   with how the hound’s chin ends up grabbed. Heat radiates from Blue’s entire body but his mouth seems to be the main focus; chuckle warm as he welcomes the contact for what it is: a showing of strength. Dean doesn’t FEAR him. Not like this. Not anymore. And something about that has the Hellhound hopeful.