Morrigan

!Requests are open!

Fandoms + Characters(More to be added or requested)

Requests can either be platonic or Romantic.

Hazbin Hotel

Carmilla Carmine

Shared breath (One shot)

Carmilla x fallen angel!reader (headcanons)

Rosie

Hungry in the wrong ways (One shot)

Others

Charlie and Vaggie x human!child!reader {Platonic}

Avatar

Grace Augustine

Resident Evil 7 & 8

Mother Miranda

Lady Dimitrescu

House of the Dragon + Game Of Thrones

Catelyn Stark/Lady stoneheart

Rhaenys Targaryen II

Balders Gate

Jaheira

Minthara

Mizora

ART (pls consider checking it out)

The reader are a human child (age around 7/8) that go to Hell after their parents tried to sacrifice the reader in a ritual. It failed and the reader not only go to Hell, but they get cursed. And the curse is that after their death, their soul will never reach the Hell or Heaven, they will disappear into nothingness and nothing can break it. So when Charlie and Vaggie meet them and get to know about the child's curse, they try their best to protect and take care of child, as if they become the new parents of child.

Thank you amd have a good day

Thank you so much for your request! Hopefully i have gotten your idea right!

Charlie and Vaggie x human!child!reader {Platonic}

Hell was never quiet.  Even when the streets emptied and the neon lights flickered low, there was always something. Whether it was distant screaming, laughter that echoed too long, the crack of violence carried on the air like static. Hell breathed chaos the way other worlds breathed wind. That was why Charlie noticed you. So frail and quiet.

You were sitting alone near a broken fountain in Pentagram City,  The cracks around it glowed faintly red, heat seeping up from below, but you didn't seem to notice. Your feet didn't quite reach the ground. Your hands were folded together, careful, polite. Almost like you were afraid of taking up too much space. You were just alone. A child with no home. Charlie stopped mid-step, her heart stuttering painfully in her chest despite the excitement burning bright in her gaze. She couldn't believe it. "Vaggie," she whispered in complete disbelief. Vaggie followed her gaze and immediately stiffened. Every instinct she had flared sharp and bright. A HUMAN child in Hell wasn't just rare. It was wrong. Unnatural. You were alive.... It made the fallen angel fell uneasy

"No," Vaggie said firmly. "Charlie. That's not—" But Charlie was already moving. Causing Vaggie to groan under her breath. The Princess approached slowly, deliberately, like one might approach a wounded animal. 

When she knelt in front of you, the heat of Hell seemed to pull back just a little. She gave an awkward smile and tilted her head  "Hi there," she said softly. "I'm Charlie. What's your name?" You looked at her for a long moment. Your large wide eyes were dull, not lifeless, just... tired. Far too tired for someone so small. You answered truthfully. Your little voice didn't shake. That scared Charlie more than if it had. "I like your bow," Charlie added gently, gesturing to the ribbon tangled in your hair. It was similar to Vaggies but smaller and blue. Ripped a little at the sides.

You touched it absentmindedly. "My mummy put it there." She did. Before papa and mummy tied you down... Mummy.. With her twisted smile. Where was she? Why wasn't she with you? You teared up and hug your knees. You wanted your mummy. 

Vaggie's jaw clenched. "Where is she now?" Vaggie asked, voice guarded, eyes scanning the surroundings. Curious if there were more humans running round hell.  You shook your head. Trembling as you held your knees tighter trying not to sob.  Charlie felt something crack inside her chest.  And with a little begging from Charlie, They took you back to the Hazbin Hotel that night. You didn’t resist. You didn’t cling, either. You followed like someone who had learned long ago not to expect permanence. What if they sent you away too? Over the weeks, In the safety of the lobby far away from the hellish noises, the violence, the eyes on the walls. You told them your story in pieces. Not all at once and sometimes over some hot choco. You spoke like memories pulled from a box you didn’t like opening.  Your parents had told you it was a game. They drew symbols on the floor and told you to not struggle as they tied you in the middle. You remembered the smell of wax and iron, the way the air felt thick, like it was pressing down on your chest. You remembered the chanting, how it made your head hurt.

“They said it would make everything better,” you said quietly, staring at the carpet. “They said I just had to be brave.” Charlie covered her mouth with her hands. Vaggie didn’t sit down. She couldn’t. Her hands trembled with barely restrained fury. “The thing they called,” you continued, “it didn’t finish coming through. It was mad." You whispered.

Charlie’s voice was barely audible. “What do you mean?”  You didn't answer. Too... dazed in the confusion of your own Story. Silence swallowed the room. The couple shared a worried glance. 

Kneeling, Vaggie took your tiny hands in hers. Your wide eyes flickered up to the fallen angel. She offered a smile. Warming something inside you. Charlie's eyes softened at her girlfriend's gentle move. Vaggie finally spoke. “Why don't you explain the curse.” She offered. Giving you the floor at your own pace. 

You hesitated, then nodded, like you’d practiced this answer before. “One day,” you began while paying with Vaggie's fingers. “I wont go to Heaven. I don’t stay in Hell. I don’t... think I become anything.” You looked up at them. “I disappear.” You mutter as if not quiet grasping the weight behind your curse. Youthful innocence keeping the curse's cruelty slow to process.  Charlie’s breath hitched sharply, tears spilling before she could stop them. Without thinking the princess scooped you into her arms and hugged your form tight. She had grown so attached to you over these past few weeks... Vaggie, on the otherhand, turned away as one hand gripping the arm of a chair so hard it creaked.

The Princess whispered desperately. “T-there has to be something—” She whined into your hair. 

“I don't think there is,” you said gently.

And that gentleness broke her.

From then on, you were never alone. Charlie insisted you have a room next to theirs. She filled it with soft blankets, warm lights, and stuffed animals she pretended weren’t enchanted to bite anyone who got too close without permission. It was Angel's idea. “They’re guardians,” she said brightly to you, then softer, “Like us.” Vaggie stood watch as her girlfriend kissed your cheeks. She would always stay near you both. Always. She walked you through the hotel halls, positioning herself just slightly ahead of you. Her spear was never far. Demons learned quickly that even looking at you too long earned them a very unpleasant conversation. The fallen angel taught you how to recognize danger, not to scare you, but to keep you safe.

“If I say ‘behind me,’ you move,” she said one day, crouching to your level. “No questions.” You nodded solemnly but force a smile at her stern expression causing her to falter. She paused. Quiet for  moment. “…And if I ever look scared?”

You thought for a moment. “I hold Charlie’s hand.”

Vaggie swallowed hard. “Yeah. That’s right.” She then stroked your hair and kissed your forehead.

At night, when the screaming outside crept into your dreams, you’d wake up shaking but silent. Charlie learned quickly and checked on you through the night. She would sit on the edge of your bed, hum softly, let you curl into her like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You’re safe,” she’d whisper, over and over. “I’ve got you.” Sometimes you believed her. Sometimes you asked questions she hated.

“What happens after nothing?” “Will it hurt?” “Will you forget me?”

Charlie never lied. She just held you tighter and said, “I will remember you for as long as I exist.” Vaggie would stand in the doorway, pretending not to listen, fists clenched so tight her hands shook.

They searched for a cure anyways. Charlie begged angels who refused to look her in the eye but after the last extermination? The angels were silent.  Vaggie tore through ancient texts, interrogated demons, made threats she fully intended to keep. The answer was always the same. Unbreakable. Absolute. Final. One night, you fell asleep between them on the couch, small and warm, trusting in a way that hurt. Vaggie spoke quietly. “This is going to kill you.” Her words weren't meant to be harsh. Just honest. 

Charlie brushed your hair back, careful not to wake you. “I know.”

“She’s human." Vaggie reminded her. Charlie searched her gaze and slowly nodded. Vaggie exhaled shakily. “…You love her.” Vaggie smiled weakly and kissed her lover's forehead. 

Charlie smiled sadly. “So do you..." The princess of hell muttered and stroked your hair. "I dont wanna won’t waste the time I have.” You shifted closer to them in your sleep.

After a long silence, Vaggie nodded. “…Neither will I.” 

You called them mummy by accident.It slipped out one afternoon when you tugged on Charlie’s sleeve, asking for help reaching a shelf. Both froze. Vaggie's eyes widened in shock  Charlies eyes gleamed in wonder. Her heart raced. She wanted to scoop you into her arms and never left go. Your eyes widened. thinking you might have offended them.  "I-I'm sorry. I can stop." 

Charlie pulled you into her arms, laughing and crying all at once. “No. You don’t have to stop. Vaggie turned away quickly, shoulders shaking. Trying to hide her pride and laughter at the scene. Later that night, you crawled into their bed after a nightmare. Without thinking, you curled between them like you belonged there. And maybe you did. Hell could take many things. But it would not take the love they gave you. Not while they were still breathing.

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I really hope you all enjoyed this little one shot request.

I kept vaggi's name vaggie for this one just because in my head i thought it may take place in between season one and two

I'm currently open for requests if anyone would like anything written? Pls lemme know what you thought. I always appreciate some feedback and comments.

If it's not too much to askk, could you write about carmilla x a fallen angel!reader? just general headcannons, if ya can :33 thank you so much! I love your writing !! :D

--- @vivurtues

YESSSS I CANNNN YAYYYY. Carmilla deserves more loveee. I love this concept. I've never really written head canons before so I really hope this is okay! Thank you for the request! 💜

Carmilla carmine x fallen Angel!reader (Headcanons)

I think how our beautiful Milla treats you all depends on what type of angel you are but for arguments sake lets say you're a fallen exorcist angel.

You fell by defiance, by refusing to obey an order that would’ve caused a massacre. Carmilla would respect that instantly.

She IMMEDIATELY clocked you as “not a normal sinner” the second she saw you fight as you were too disciplined, too clean, too controlled.

Her trust was a challenge to gain. You were both as weary of each other as the other. But when trust came. It was near impossible to break.

Carmilla doesn’t sleep much, but when she does, she sleeps better with you there. With your wings half-curled around her like a shield.

Your wings are scarred, permanently damaged. Carmilla is shockingly gentle when she touches them. Milla loves fiercely but gently. She's the only person you'd allow to touch them

She cleans them frequently. Caring for your feathers with the same care she gives her finest blades.

She likes the sound your wings make when you fold them or when they flutter. She calls it “grounding,” though she’ll never say that out loud.

Carmilla pretends she doesn’t have routines, but she does and you’re part of them now. You’re always there when she sharpens her blades at night.

You hate when others stare at your broken wings. She always notices. Carmilla always puts herself subtly in front of you in public. The older woman always being possessive, protective and unmistakable.

when it's late nights in her office. You can't help but be perched on the window ledge, watching the city burn softly while she reviews contracts. Comfortable silence.

Carmilla shows affection through trust: access to her armories, her daughters, her secrets.

You show affection by standing at her back during meetings. With Zestial. silent, watchful, lethal if needed. Always willing to defend.

Arguments are rare but intense. When they happen, the room feels like it might collapse under the pressure.

Some demons think you’re her executioner. Others think you’re her conscience. But the truth? You’re her equal. Anyone who tries to use your angelic past against her… doesn’t get a second chance.

During Extermination days, Carmilla keeps you inside. Not because she doubts you, but because Heaven might recognize you.

Her daughters were wary at first. Not afraid—measuring. You never try to replace anything. You simply show up, fix problems quietly, and respect their autonomy. That earns their trust faster than grand gestures ever could. Carmilla notices. It matters to her more than she’ll admit. Her daughters always came first after all.

You still kneel sometimes. Out of instinct, not faith. Carmilla gently pulls you back to your feet every time. Holding you close. Shes never demand that of you. Not like Adam. Not Like Lute.

You can’t lie easily either. Carmilla finds it inconvenient… and endearing.

If you ever tried to leave to protect her? She would hunt you down. never in anger, but in refusal.

Carmilla never touches you without warning. When she does, it’s deliberate. She learned which scars not to ask about.

Carmilla calls you by your name. Not your designation. Not your rank. That matters more than she’ll ever know.

Part of you still fears Heaven will come after you. That Lute and Adam will their revenge. While a part of Carmilla fears you’ll leave to protect her. Neither of you says it out loud. But you don’t need vows. You’ve already chosen sides.

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That's All! Hopefully this was okay. I've never done Headcanons before. lol.

 I'm currently open for requests if anyone would like anything written? Pls lemme know what you thought. I always appreciate some feedback and comments.

warnings - Implied SA not between Milla and Reader.

Mostly hurt/comfort

Your bedroom felt cold tonight. Cold in a way that slowly nipped at your skin in subtle bites. It wasn't sharp. Not in any means. But it was persistent. Digging in until it was near impossible to ignore. The grip on Carmilla's dressing gown tightened as you took in her scent. Grateful it still lingered on the fabric. Your lip trembled as you squeezed your eyes shut. Gods.... you felt so alone without her. When did she finish up in the office again? Shadows pool in the corners, thick and unmoving, as if the light itself knows better than to linger there. And yet, despite that, You felt exposed watched. You rubbed your throat. What if it happened again? What if you couldn't escape this time? The floor was cool beneath your bare feet. It was polished enough to reflect a distorted version of yourself, fractured by scuffs and faint stains that no amount of cleaning has fully erased.  Tearing up, you clutched your knees. Hell felt so far that moment and yet, with every shadow, you felt as though hell wasn't outside but in. 

The door opens without ceremony and your breath became ragged and fractured. And despite your deep effort to hide it... You failed. The light shifts as Carmilla Carmine, your lover, steps through the doorway, her silhouette cut clean and was unmistakable against the dimness. She closed the door behind her with deliberate care. Not a slam. You still flinched. Regardless of your lover's efforts. You couldn't help it. So caught up in your own head.. Her steel point shoes tap against the floor as she walks then it stopped. She takes in the room in a single glance. Her cat like eyes scanned the corners, the shadows and then you. She tilted her head. Her eyes worrying before she began moving farther inside. Her presence felt grounding... Familiar. Her expression was composed, controlled, but there's a tension beneath it. Something held tight, like a breath she hasn't let out yet. Almost as if she understood what was happening in your head. The light catches the sharp lines of her features, the red of her eyes cut through the dark. She didn't speak right away. Carmilla rarely wasted words when silence would do the work for her.

Then she stepped closer. She didn't dare rush. But she was no where near hesitant either.  She didn't want to spook you. With each step closer the cold of the room felt less and less important, replaced by her presence. It felt solid, immovable. "You're shaking," she said at last, her voice was low and even, as if naming a fact rather than asking a question. Were you? You didn't even notice. She paused there, giving you space without leaving it, a quiet wall between you and everything else. She doesn't ask what's wrong. You had had these episodes before... these moments of fear and uncertainty. It broke her heart. She debates the best course of action. Last time you had screamed at her to leave you alone. But How could she? No, Instead, she steps in close, close enough that the world narrows to her presence. One hand settled at the base of your neck, firm but careful, grounding rather than restraining. The other steadied your wrist, thumb pressed lightly where your pulse was racing. Your eyes watered.  "Look at me," she said. Not sharp, just certain. She wished to kiss you and whisper sweet nothings but she couldn't. It might have sent you into an even worse spiral.

So she brought her forehead to yours, the contact deliberate, anchoring. Her voice lowered, measured. "In through the nose," she breathed, exaggerating it so you can follow. And all that was good, you tried your best. Trying to follow your partner's light.  "Hold. Two counts." Your heart raced with her words. "Out. Slow." She matched you breath for breath, refusing to rush. When you stumble, she doesn't correct you. She simply kept going, letting her rhythm pull you back in. 

"I can still feel it, Milla.." You whispered, broken. "I can still feel what they did to my body..." Her glowing red gaze snapped to your trembling form. "I keep thinking to myself... what would have happened had you not come in time?" Her brows furrowed with each word you whispered in fear.

"You're here," she reminded you. Your eyes widened. "You're not in danger. I wouldn't allow it." Her promise rang through the room. Your shoulders lowered. The Overlord would keep that promise well. That you were both sure on. Her breathing never faltered. That was the point... Right? Carmilla became the constant when your body won't cooperate. When your pulse finally slows, she didn't pull away right away. Her forehead stays pressed to yours, her thumb still marking time against your wrist. "There," she said quietly. "You're back." Only then did she ease her grip. However only just enough to give you the choice to lean away. She didn't assume you would. And you don't. You stay. Safe in the arms of the woman that would never ever let you be hurt again. Carmilla exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her hand stroked your hair. And for a moment, she lets herself rest too.

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Short little milla comfort oneshot. I miss my wife. She deserves more love. I will stand on that hill till i die. I'm currently open for requests if anyone would like anything written? Pls lemme know what you thought. I always appreciate some feedback and comments.

Rosie x Reader Just a short and quick Rosie one shot idea that hit me.

The air was thick with the smell of Rosie's perfume as the pale woman sat at her desk in her office. The leader of Cannibal Town let a sigh slip through her ruby red lips. File upon file consumed her work space and she grew bored. After all, it was like watching paint dry. On that there was no arguing. But it did have one perk. One thing she could be grateful for. There were was no audience here. No forced smile she had to wear for the glorious citizens of Cannibal Town. Here, there was only a dimmed light and some polished bone furniture. Her mouth twitched as she took in the scent of copper. That sweet stench never did fade. Trapped in anything it could cling to. She was unaware of the drool running down her chin until she heard the pitter patter of your bear feet on the wooden floor boards. Damn it. Shouldn't you be in bed? Asleep? Far from her?

You smile as you opened the door to her office. The room was covered in shadow and you couldn't only see her back. You tilted your head at her rigid posture. "You didn't come to bed, love?" You called gently to your beautiful cannibalistic girlfriend. She had been.. distant with you lately. You couldn't help but worry you had upset her in some sense. You really hoped not. She was all you had and you loved her dearly. With furrowed brows, you inched a little closer at her silence. Fiddling with your thumbs. "Rosie?" you whispered to her, slightly more nervous this time.

"I'm busy." The answer was short. Clipped. It bothered you greatly. She glanced up, at the window. Refusing to even look your way for a second. if she did.... she might cave. Dig her pearly sharp teeth into your beautiful smooth neck. Listen to the musical crunch as she keeps you pinned beneath her. Her throat went dry. It felt like swallowing sand. Squeezing her eyes shut, the cannibal reminded herself no.. Not you. Never you... she could control it. Right?

Not sensing the danger you took another step towards your lover. "You're always busy lately." You mutter, the worry clear in your tone. "Especially once I get too close." your whisper hung in the air. There was a long pause. A pause that lasted too long. Her shoulders stiffened. Only slightly. If you blinked you might have missed such a thing. "Have I done something to upset you?" your awkward question was left unanswered. Her back was still turned to you. "I feel... as if you hate me, Rosie." You admitted, vulnerable. A little scared.

Her body twitched. Almost as if she was resisting the urge to look upon you. To take you into her arms and kiss you forehead. Reassure you that everything was going to be alright. But was it? "Don't be ridicules." She grit out. "That's not true" The cannibal lady hissed, defensive. Hate you? No... you just smelt so delicious and all she could think about was licking your blood and sucking on your organs. Her legs trembled at the thought. Shit. this wasn't how this was supposed to go. She loved you.. Right? You begged her to glance your way. But the older woman didn't. She couldn't. Her claw like nails dug into the edge of her table. Ruining the varnish. "If I look at you.. Ill ruin this..." She mumbled. Feeing the weight of what was happening.

“By doing what?” The question was so innocent it made her feel sick in her lower stomach.

Rosie was silent. Too silent. A subtle sort of quiet that eats away at your hearts beat. "By wanting you incorrectly." Rosie rasped out while rubbing her forehead. Her body felt heavy. You stare wide eyed at her disposition. So with so subtle steps you inch a little closer. Rose tenses as she heard the pitter patter of your feet. The room felt like it was closing in. Going to swallow her whole. She made sure to keep her back to you .

Your fingers twitched. Wanting to reach out for her. “I don’t feel wanted at all.” Your mumble rang throughout the shallow office. Did she no longer love you? How did she not see this distance was killing you. A brittle laugh came from the cannibal causing your posture to lower. Feeling more and more vulnerable as the laugh hit you like a slap.

“Good.” she hissed through her laugh. Piercing you were you stood. Like a child being scolded. “I'm trying to keep you safe.” The confession could be nearly missed if you weren't paying attention. Luckily, you were. Her words were spoken with such... honesty. Your eyes welled a little. Scared and confused. What did she mean? When you asked, her voice dropped low. Her eyes searching her desk. "From me." She muttered. Your heart ached. "From the part of me that doesn't know the difference between desire and consumption." Her voice shook with worry. Her hands trembled. She pinned her hands to the desk. Trying to keep steady.

Then there was silence. And it was haunting. There was only the sound of a clock ticking it's seconds. You swallow and look down. Taking a step back, you hugged yourself. Trying to feed the urge to scream for comfort. "Was I a mistake, Rosie?" Your words hung in the air. That finally did it. Rosie's smile was gone. There was no mask in place as she snapped her head towards you. Fear and hunger ate away at her tangled expression. She shook her head. Her large inky eyes seemed appalled. A mistake? You? Never! You search her eyes. "Then why do you flinch when we touch now, Rosie? Why do you shy away?" You begged for an answer. to make sense of this situation without her riddles.

Rosie shuddered and squeezed her eyes. Imagining your touch on her body. "Because when you touch me, pet, I can no longer think in words." She seemed to read your confusion too easily. "I think in need." she swallows thickly. You knees felt weak. Need? The leader of Cannibal Town took one step towards you. She doesn't dare get any closer as she stopped herself. Inhaling your scent. "You make me so hungry, pet. So hungry." She grit and smiled sadly. "But in all the wrong ways."

Your heart raced rapidly. It was killing her. Your innocent eyes scanning her features. Didn't you recognise the monster before you? "Isn't that just love?" Satan below, her heart shattered as she eyed you. Damn you. Damn the stupid way you were looking up at her.

Shaking her head, she glanced at anything but you. "Love doesn't make my mouth water." She whispered, Her guilt eating at her as she thought about everything. "Love shouldn't make me imagine how quiet you'd me... still unmoving as your blood lingers on my finger tips." Her mouth watered as she swallowed down her thoughts.

Against your better judgment, You didn't move. Didn't run. "You've never hurt me..." You whispered with shaking ragged breath. "You wouldn't hurt me..." You tried to reassure yourself as well as her. Rosie looked at you with bitter pity.

“That’s because I leave the room whenever I want to.”

Your breath caught. She had had these thoughts before? Thoughts of hurting you? You fiddled with your fingers. Now nervous. A what if hung in your mind. “And if one day you don’t?” you questioned with a scarce gaze. Rosie smiled. It was small and broken. Not like anything she had showed you or the town before.

Rosie searched your trusting gaze. A sigh escaped her lips. "If I don't? Then I hope you hate me enough to scream." There was another beat of silence then. Scream? To scream for help? Your heart ached. Hate Rosie? You couldn't ever dare to think of hating her.

“Do you want me to leave?” You whispered quietly. Vulnerable and.. unnerved. Rosie hesitated. And that hesitation was the most dangerous thing in the room. She shook her head weakly. No. She didn't want want you to leave. Never. That struck her with a pang of fear. Once again, you stared at your lover. Confused and with a tilted head. “Then what do you want?” You muttered.

Rosie's eyes softened, her brows furrowed and her smile quirked a little in disbelief of herself. “I want you close enough to feel real… and far enough away that I don’t destroy you for it.” She'd hate herself if she hurt you. Perhaps even worse. She slowly reached out. Her heart thumping. But she stopped herself. Only short of touching you. "That’s why I keep pushing you away.” She grit. Her sharp teeth glimmering as she spoke. “Because I don’t trust what I become when I’m starving.” And with that... the room darkened.

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Just a short Rosie one shot.

Our favourite cannibal deserves more love. I used to write and I'm just trying to get back into the swing of it again. I'm currently open for requests if anyone would like anything written?

So I'm currently in the middle of drawing my oc with our fabulous milla. But I'm worried. I've seen mixed things, and colour theory is kicking my ass as we speak. Is milla grey or purple/pink cause I'm so confused 😭

Also any art constructive advice is welcome ❤️