#he brought humans fire.

[mars-ipan]

do you guys think aziraphale heard the myth of prometheus for the first time and lost his mind a little

#marzi speaks #good omens #aziraphale #this is lighthearted but also not at all. i just don’t have big words rn #can you imagine though. aziraphale is gomensverse’s prometheus #he brought humans fire. #do you think he heard of prometheus and suddenly his fear of disobeying god reared its ugly head with a vengeance #do you think he remembered lying to god about it. wondered if it was that that would do him in instead of the original theft #do you think he spent nights upon nights wondering when he would be chained to his rock #wondering when his crow would come eat his liver for all of eternity #do you think he wondered if it already had? #not in the shape of a crow- but of a snake- a charming snake that slithered over and ate his heart again and again and again #he had appeared shortly after aziraphale gave up the sword; after all. aziraphale told him and everything #perhaps that was his punishment. perhaps She was playing a cruel little game by sending him someone he wanted so much but could never have #maybe that was the rock. the chain. the inability to move- to do anything more than sit there in anguish #the crow came in the form of that sharp mind and clever tongue. it dug straight to the core of his heart and tore it to shreds #picked it apart; observed; and ate #do you think he worried on and off about that for centuries. millenia #do you think he thought about it every time that demon of his did something so utterly charming #‘oh- there’s another piece of my heart- a morsel for him to savor again and again’ #do you think he thought about it when he kissed. felt those lips on his like a sharp beak straight through his body #do you think he minded. do you think he thought ‘i would lay in these chains forever if you would just do that again; right now.’ #do you think he broke those chains anyway. #I’M INSAAANE turns out i did have big words for it

[chromatic-corrosion]

.

#NEW ESCAPING VIRTUALITY CHAPTER YEAGH!!!! #this chapter is amazing. absolutely worth the wait! #every chapter is better than the last. im not joking. #well. i think its time to discuss the chapter. #Able Desdemona exists! considering Caine's name- he and Abel are definitely brothers. #i hope nothing bad happened between Abel and Caine like their namesakes. but parting regrets are such fun to imagine. #also: what the hell happened in what used to be Abel's office? and why was he terminated? #wouldnt it be nice if Caine kept the 'Abel Desdemona' nametag? #so... Caine is human and has always been human. #and he had his memories removed. #hes really living up to meaning of 'Desdemona.' #i for some reason feel like the removal of his memories was agonizingly painful. #maybe because i have enough burn scars to know that fire is agonizing. #i wouldnt even blame him if he is terrified by fire #considering the past chapters. the other humans all think that Caine is just a AI that got a human body when brought into reality. #i wonder how the others will react when they find out Caine has always been human. #but how will they find out he is human? ...what about Jax? he has found the 'Caine Desdemona' file. #nobody except Jax has seen that file yet. that file would shock and confuse everyone- #-considering that nobody knows Caine has always been human. #the fact Caine thinks that the outside world only consists of the office is rather sad. #i wonder howd he feel about the real sun and moon. #for some reason i feel like caine is the type of person to have nightmares extremely frequently. i dont know where this idea came from. #overall. this story is great and i want the fanfic injected into my bloodstream. if thats not allowed- then i will offer my heart to it. #cant wait for the next chapter! please dont rush yourself! and have a good day/evening/noon/night! #seasalt speaks #EscapingVirtuality

[lord-squiggletits]

The most unrealistic part about exRID is that people actually got mad about Jazz killing a cop.

#squiggposting #this is a shitpost but also that whole plot point genuinely pissed me off because it was so fucking stupid lmao #i would get it if it was framed as like 'he killed a human being!' but like #every single time the incident was brought up it was like 'jazz killed a cop he killed a cop he killed a cop he killed a cop' #to the point that journalists in fucking MEXICO were pissed off about a cop in THE USA getting killed #while he was firing on a group of injured and surrendering autobots no less #and like that ties into the whole 'autobots bad' plot which was stupid in itself #ah yes one single autobot killed one single cop in defense of his friends who were injured and surrendering #that's totally the same as the decepticons killing LITERALLY A BILLION HUMANS IN A PLANET WIDE RAID #anyways let's help the decepticons build their totally peaceful space commune in jupiter's orbit #that's totally peaceful and they definitely won't use it to attack us #because we apparently don't trust the decepticons but we do trust them enough to.... #help them BUILD A FUCKING BASE IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM???? #AFTER THEY ALREADY KILLED 1 BIL HUMAN BEINGS??? AND ONE OF THE DECEPTICONS ASKING US TO HELP BUILD THEIR COMMUNE #IS ONE OF THE FUCKING GUYS WHO WAS ON THE GROUND HELPING THE INVASION AND KILLING PEOPLE???

[themthistles]

i understand that people generally don't mean for it to come off this way but it always peeves me when ameribrits and co talk about the state of lgbtqa+ rights in other counties as if homophobia and transphobia present there are a virus or some boogeyman that is going to breach containment and come for them. like oh what's this??? here comes christianity with a steel chair!! guess what our bigotry is your bigotry buddy. it always has been

#it's always like oh isn't it so scary what is happening in those countries they're so backwards #hey quick question who brought say catholicism to the continent of africa who could it have been #i'm watching hozier's new album interview and i respect him and value what he says but he was talking about the story behind tmtc mv #something about how he said 'it's a culture that can cross borders and now it has' referring to the rise of homotransphobia in the us #i think many ameribritcetera consciously or unconsciously believe that their countries are some beacons and trailblazers of human rights #and everyone else with rare exceptions needs to have the light brought to them or else they're trying to take it away #which is ironically the most christian shit ever #i guess what i'm trying to say is that bigotry ripples #it doesn't come from one place and requires the right conditions to flourish #for example the rise of transphobia in the world is absolutely stoked by jk rowling so can we say that it came from england? #i mean putin literally referenced her in his speech #not really that garbage was already around she just set it on fire #bigotry doesn't 'come' from anywhere it doesn't 'cross borders' it lives everywhere waiting for an opportunity #splitting the world into countries that stand against homophobia and countries that bring it doesn't help it dehumanises and divides us #(alsoiknowthathozierisirishthatwasnotthepoint)

[prokopetz]

Something I love about The Far Roofs is how much of a swerve its premise is if you're coming to it uninitiated.

Okay, so there's these talking rats with a culture of swashbuckling heroism – basic Redwall/Reepicheep stuff.

Also, there's a magical realm called the Far Roofs which exists above every human community, and that's where the rats go adventuring; a little weird, but you can see the precedents in popular fiction. It's like wainscot fantasy taken to its logical-yet-absurd conclusion.

By default, the game wants you to play as a fictionalised version of your (presumably human!) self and go up onto the Far Roofs to have adventures with the rats. All right, now it's coming together: it's like isekai fantasy meets The Muppet Show, with you as the obligatory human character, right?

Then we get to the nature of those adventures: the rats have this whole culture built around questing against beings they call "the Mysteries" – beasties with names like Harpy and Goblin and Unicorn. So basically it's a bunch of muppety rats on the roofs fighting Dungeons & Dragons monsters, and you go up and help them do it. Great.

And then you get to what the Mysteries are actually like, and... well, I'm going to let the following excerpt carry the weight here. (This particular bit of text also appears in a previously published work by the same author, so I'm not giving anything away that's still under wraps.)

Unicorn, which is named Numinous, dwells three steps away and beyond the world, but most often in the Farthest Roofs, where the Steppes of the Sky come down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court. There it is stepping upwards from the world, as it has always been stepping upwards from the world, caught in a moment of transcendent glory that does not complete. It simply is. Melanthios heard the footsteps of Unicorn. Melanthios heard the ringing of Unicorn’s bells. So Melanthios chased Unicorn off to the Farthest Roofs, and Melanthios did not return. Anton and Karel, who were his sons, were wiser than their father. They heard the bells but they did not follow. Instead, they memorized the scent. They gathered swords, and ropes, and nets, and they went out. They brought food and water and all manner of gear. They clung to the roofs with all four feet wheresoever after Unicorn they went. It proved no good. Anton looked up, and Karel to his brother. The world came down— That’s what Karel said. He had time to look away. He had time to bury his head in his paws. He did not see the fullness of Unicorn’s presence. He only saw Anton his brother become unreal. In the light of the moment of the Unicorn, Anton became as a paper figure in the fire. His reality burned out. His shadow seared into the roofs behind him. Where he’d stood, for just a moment, the Steppes of the Sky came down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court; and Anton was gone away. So Karel ran and Karel ran and Karel ran from the Unicorn; and all his life, he envied but was more fortunate than his brother.

These are gods. You're going up there to kill God.

Like, it's still silly wainscot fantasy with funny talking rats, but there's that tension. It's like if Fraggle Rock occasionally took a hard turn to serious cosmic horror – Lord Dunsany by way of Jim Henson – and that tonal juxtaposition was treated as something unremarkable.

Basically what I'm saying is go back The Far Roofs.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #the far roofs #dr. jenna moran #crowdfunding #kickstarter #violence mention #death mention

[rithmeres]

i don’t think i’ve rewatched atla since becoming a committed pacifist and i just finished what was probably my tenth rewatch and i have never loved aang more. i've seen it so many times but i still came away with a new appreciation for the way the end of the story was handled. aang is the only survivor of a genocide and he is clinging to the last remnants of his culture and religion, and everyone is telling him the only way to save the world is to kill the dictator whose regime is responsible for the genocide, but to do so would abandon the deeply held beliefs of his people. if aang goes against his beliefs and kills ozai, his people's way of life dies completely and sozin wins.

aang knows it would be wrong but he can't see another way out so he prays for an answer, and the universe hears him and the spirits send out the lion turtle, and the creator answers him. and here's the thing that i never put together before today: aang would not have been able to energybend ozai if he had given in and wanted to kill him. the lion turtle tells aang that only the incorruptible can bend another’s energy, or else they will become corrupted themselves. and i think that aang, because of his love for the fire nation as he had once known it, was never corrupted by personal hatred for the fire lord or the fire nation. he was able to expertly hold two conflicting beliefs in harmony better than any adult could, the belief that ozai is a horrible person and the world would be better off without him and that he's still a human being with a life that is sacred.

and i don't think it's a matter of selfishness like some people make it out to be. aang is not some immature little kid who doesn't want to kill because killing is for bad guys. he's an incredibly wise and spiritual person who was shaped by airbender beliefs and upholds airbender beliefs, and he can see beyond the scope of this war. the balance of the world depends on the existence of the four nations, and aang does not just represent the air nomads, he IS the air nomads. he's all that's left.

despite many people’s interpretation of the four past avatars’ advice, none of the past avatars outright tell him to kill ozai. they tell him to be decisive, to bring justice, to be proactive, to be sacrificial. but none of them tells him definitively to kill him. he doesn't disobey or ignore their advice, he follows their ancient wisdom while still staying true to his beliefs. yangchen actually comes the closest to outright telling him to kill ozai (even more than kiyoshi, surprisingly) but what she fails to account for is that aang is not just the avatar, he is the last airbender, and being the last airbender is far greater a burden than being the avatar. no matter what happens, once he dies, there will always be another avatar. but if he is not careful to preserve the airbender way of life, there will be no more airbenders. yangchen could sacrifice her air nomad way of life for the sake of her duty to the world because there were thousands of other air nomads to continue their traditions. aang has no such privilege.

and it's not that he doesn't want to kill, it's that he actually doesn't think he can do it -- both that he won't be able to emotionally bring himself to kili someone, and, prodigy that he is, he doesn't have the raw bending skill to overcome a comet-powered master firebender. and then it turns from 'i don't think i can do it' into ‘i can’t do it.’ and when the avatar state gives him enough power to actually do it, he changes the answer to ‘i won’t do it.’ he overcomes all the combined power of his past lives to say no, i have found another answer and i will remain incorruptible. to kill is to maintain the power struggle of the fire nation and to reject air nomad wisdom and without airbenders the world CANNOT be brought into balance.

the only thing ozai cares about is power, and that's what the entire fight with ozai is about, physically and ideologically, because ozai only sees power in terms of force, fear, threats, and violence. to ozai, aang (and his entire people) are weak and undeserving of life because they are largely pacifists, but he fails to see the magnificent power that the airbenders do hold, spiritual wisdom and mastery of the self and contentment and joy and harmony and a deep understanding of the world that a man like ozai could never obtain. to kill ozai would ratify ozai’s worldview that power as he defines it is the most important pursuit in the world and the only way to assert one's right to be in the world is to be cruel and violent like him. i think to ozai, becoming powerless might be worse than being dead. he wants power, or he wants death, and aang gives him neither. it upends everything he believed in. aang, the avatar, but more importantly, the last airbender, armed by his past lives' power and his people's love and the spirit world's blessing and the lion turtle's omniscience (and toph's mastery of true sight through neutral jing), ends the war 100 years to the day after the air nomad genocide, in the way that his people taught him, with power that goes beyond force and violence, with spiritual wisdom, with an incorruptible soul, with mercy -- mercy that is not weakness, mercy that brings justice.

#they just don't make kids cartoons like they used to!!!! #also zuko said 'love and peace' in his coronation speech. i am squinting at bryan and mike. is that what it think it is #atla #aang #meta

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: semi-angst

notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to

PART TWO | PART THREE

Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.

“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.

Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.

“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.

At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?

Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.

Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.

“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.

“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.

“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.

Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.

Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.

Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel lucifer

[whumpacabra]

Day 23 - “You’ll have to go through me.”

Fire, protectiveness, self sacrifice, hidden injury, gunshot wound, fire arm use, dog mention

[Follows Mondays]

There was fire on the hill, red and warm and, from a distance, indistinguishable from the blazing sunset. David didn’t realize his home was burning until he was halfway up the winding, gravely private road.

Squinting against the setting sun, he finally saw the disaster - the ranch house alight like a pile of kindling, doors and windows blown out. Heart hammering in his chest, he accelerated the car.

There were two unmarked black vans at the top of the hill.

David’s mouth was dry, ears ringing. RJ put a gun in his car - at least one that they told him about. He never wanted to use it.

The sparse desert offered little cover beside the vans, his own car, and RJ’s sedan. If they were pinned down, he would have to take some heat off of them.

He unclipped Meowth’s harness, the dog already growling softly at the unfamiliar figures in the distance. The dog wouldn’t fight - RJ trained him too well for that - but he would try to follow David.

The old mustang’s engine snarled as David skidded to a stop a few meters shy of the other vehicles that made a rough semicircle surrounding the front of the blazing house.

Dave opened the driver side door and dove from his seat, fishing the firearm hidden in its custom compartment from the door. Meowth, in his neon service dog vest, followed in suit, hackles raised but silent.

“Go. Get. Go somewhere safe.” David was relieved as the dog trotted away, no gunshots following its path. At least, none he could hear over the roaring flames.

Peering over the hood of his car, he could see the situation clearly.

RJ was making quick work of three assailants - well trained men buckling under their precise blows. They weren’t trying to kill the men, and the men didn’t have any weapons drawn.

What the hell was going on?

“Hello - you must be David, right?” He spun on his heels, shaking hands pointing his gun at the source of the voice. There was something terribly familiar in the man’s gentle smirk, his tactical vest heavy with weapons.

Before David could speak, he screamed, cursing as his legs gave out. The fresh, aching burn of a bullet cut clean through his thigh, and terror filled his veins as blood began to soak into his jeans. He dropped his own gun to press his hands against the wounds, hoping to stem the bleeding.

“What are you doing East? He’s not important.” David could only gape in dumb horror. Jackson? The older English gentleman shrugged, looking to the man on the ground. “Although… he could be useful for-“

The spy ducked, a tire iron flying with brutal force well behind the pair of men before striking the sand.

“You’ll have to go through me first.”

David felt relief flood his adrenaline shocked body. RJ stood on the roof of his car, baton in one hand and knife in the other - a destroying angel to his rescue.

“God, you kids are so bloody dramatic. Dear if you didn’t throw such a fit about -“

“Shut up.” Both the stranger - East? - and RJ snapped at Jackson, the two locking eyes as they jumped down to the ground with ease and landed in a crouch beside David.

“Safehouse C. Meet you there.” They mumbled under their breath, stealing a quick glance at the silhouette of blood framing his hands. “Bad?”

“Just grazed me.” David must have been getting better at lying, as RJ gave a curt nod before standing straight to face the two men.

RJ stalked forward as David pulled himself to his feet, scrambling back inside his beloved mustang. The upholstery would be a mess to clean later. He heard a gun cock, unable to see the weapon the East had leveled at RJ’s chest, aimed at his head behind them.

David swallowed hard as Jackson muttered something, East’s eyes drifting to the older man as his weapon wavered. No time like the present - having left the engine idling, he shifted gears and spun his tires as he escaped.

Through the cloud of dust and sand behind him, he couldn’t tell what was happening between the three. His hands felt numb and his stomach turned, the pain in his leg pulsing as he barreled onto the highway.

RJ said they would meet him there. He trusted them - they didn’t lie to him.

Usually.

[Directly before Birthday]

(Part of my Freelancers: Post-Retirement series)

#whump #febuwhump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday23 #protectiveness #gunshot wound #fire #self sacrifice #hidden injury #kinda? #freelancers #ft. Meowth the best doggo ever don’t worry he’s fine. humans are gonna get whumped but I don’t whump dogs that’s too far (over dramatic) #another late in the day post brought to you by ‘I had something written this morning. wasn’t vibing w it so I rewrote the whole thing’ #still avoiding the :readmore: until that bug gets fixed :/ kinda annoying

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part two)

This is part two! Here is part one. I lied, there is a bit of smut! Oopsie daisy. Inspired by @moonmark98 ‘s story idea of reader trying to forget Alastor and failing. I hadn’t planned a second part initially so I hope you like it 🥺

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

You return to earth and spend a year trying to crawl out from under the memory of Alastor. When an employee tells you a terrible past trauma, you end up right back where you started.

<Tags/Warnings/Promises: Alastor x reader, light smut, not as explicit as part one, masturbation, implied childhood trauma, justified homicide regarding said implication, stabbing, death, a realistic description of my former job, gerbil slander, your bitch aunt Sara, hiking as a hobby, guns, shooting, choking, florida weather, mentions of the 2021 Loo Loo Land fire>

minors DNI

“Ooh my, this is highly unusual. Charlie is right, you really shouldn’t be here.” Stolas fretted over you. “Uuunfortunately I don’t have my book at this particular moment however I can just snag it from Blitzy and be back soon.”

“What’s a blitzy?” Angel looked around the room to no one in particular.

“What isn’t he?” Stolas cooed. 

“Wait a minute!” Husk snapped his fingers, “Is that the imp who burned down loo loo land?”

“The very one!”

“He also takes hits out on people on earth, doesn’t he?” Husk gave Stolas a sideways look. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment.

“Ah haha yes” Nervously chuckling, Stolas scratched at the feathers behind his neck, “Anywho! I’ll return shortly and get you back where you belong, little one.” He flashed his kind smile to you before bowing to Charlie and portaling out of the room. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlie sat beside you on the edge of the bed. You’d been escorted immediately to an empty room upon arrival, sat down while the core staff of the hotel flitted about wildly upon hearing Angel’s recounting of events.

“You smell dirty”, the tiny maid cackled and ran to you before being lifted by her apron by Husk. 

“That is a”, you rubbed your wrists nervously, “complicated question…”

“There’s nowhere safer in all of hell than this room. With Vaggie and me and Alastor”, Charlie brought her hands to her mouth, “or— not Alas- I mean” She looked at Vaggie, “What do I mean??”

“Nothing and no one will lay a finger on you here.” Vaggie was staring at Alastor when she said it.

“I don’t think its fingers anyone’s worried about”, Angel shifted his gaze from Alastor to you and back.  

Alastor turned his head  slowly to meet Angel’s eyes, “Did you say something, Angel Dust?”

He shook his head and quickly left, Niffty and Husk in tow.

“I think you should leave, too.” Vaggie crossed her arms.

Alastor replied by taking a step closer to you, gesturing with his microphone, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. She is safe and sound, barely a bruise on her.” He looked over you, the side of your face still slightly pink from the way you hit the ground hardly an hour ago. He could hear your body sliding across the wooden cabin floor still, what a strangely exciting noise. What else could he drag you across? What surfaces could he slide your over? What noises would they make? What noises would you make?

“You took her fucking soul, Alastor. In a coerced deal!”

“If I remember correctly, that is exactly what I had been asked to do.” He grinned, taking his monocle off and cleaning it on his sleeve. Vaggie looked to Charlie, who shrunk from her horrified face. “Plus, she’s still alive. Who knows if the deal even counts. I’ve never made one with a living person.” With an exaggerated shrug, Alastor took a seat on the sofa opposite the bed, legs crossed. “Either way, she isn’t anywhere near Val anymore.” His eyes met yours, for the first time since… 

You looked away. He wanted to grab your chin and force you to see him. He wanted to read what was written on your face. Shame? No…yes, but something more. Embarrassment. Confusion. Ah— You clenched your jaw, finally returning his stare. Anger. “Did I not do exactly what I had promised I would? What I had warned you I would?” Your lips curled over your teeth. “While yes, I hadn’t explicitly stated the number of times-“

“Stop talking! No, no. Enough of that.” Charlie waved her arms as if she could dissipate the very topic away, “Alastor could you please give me a moment alone with her?” She looked at him with big, worried eyes, “Please?”

Through gritted teeth Alastor acquiesced, “It is your hotel, Princess. I’ll be just outside the door.” The last sentence was for you, you could feel it like you could feel his shadow still ghosting over your legs.

As soon as the door shut, she closed the distance between you, looking to Vaggie who offered her a supportive nod.

“Seriously, are you hurt? Did he— Did he hurt  you?”

Oh, you wish he had. That’d be easier to say. Easier to process. You wish he’d knocked you around like Val had done earlier. That left you indignant, enraged. But this — whatever this was — you couldn’t find purchase on a reaction. You didn’t even want to think the things bubbling under your consciousness. 

“Just my pride. Uhh,” you shifted, your thighs and cunt sore to the touch, “He really did warn me. Got my okay, kind of. And he didn’t hurt me, except dragging me around and flipping me but-”, You noticed Charlie’s alarmed expression, “I’m physically fine.”

She nodded, her expression still oozing concern, “Well that’s good, then.”

“What… You both seem humanish, but what exactly are-“ You tipped your head in the direction of the door. 

“Well I think Angel is some kind of spider…Husk, not entirely sure honestly”, Charlie looked up as if searching for a memory, “Alastor is a deer. It’s all tied to how people lived and died, I think.”

A deer? You shook your head, “Nothing about that man resembles a prey animal.”

“His death sure did.” Vaggie commented.

“So if I have some weird death I’ll end up here? If I drown… I’ll come back as a fish?” You were mostly thinking out loud, and hadn’t expected Charlie to nod in agreement.

“But don’t think about that! You might still go to heaven. Like Al said, he isn’t even sure the deal is binding.” She beamed and clapped her hands together.

It felt binding. 

When that green light had erupted from beneath you, you thought you could feel him. Not the tentacles, or the memory of his hand. It felt like he was in the light itself, casting shadows on the ceiling in the shape of you. It felt alive, every ray of light a breathe washing over you. 

You looked down at the robe, white and silky. Where were your clothes? Where was your fucking aunt? What about your phone? You had a car, too. Wait, no… did you drive to her house? Or did she…You hadn’t slept since being dragged to hell. Staring at the hem of the sleeve, you tried to focus your mind but suddenly you were wading in cognitive mud.

Shadows gathered near the foot of the bed before you saw Alastor rise out of the cluster. Charlie said something, Vaggie said something but sharper. It sounded far away already. Your body was beginning to feel heavy, an ache settling across your back and thighs.

“Perhaps you should lie down, my dear.” His voice cut through the murky waters of your thoughts. The bed sunk beside you as he pressed a hand down, the other lifting your chin to force eye contact. Vaggie made a loud noise, Charlie a smaller one, a longer one. Was it words? Were they speaking? Your lids were heavy over your eyes, Alastor’s face beginning to blur. His smile looked strained, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion almost recognized. Concern? His grin threw it off. You raised your eyebrows to try and open your eyes wider but the effect was minimal.

You heard yourself groan as an arm hooked under your knees, another catching your shoulders as you fell to the side. It felt like you were floating. Your legs came down slowly, you could feel the robe adjusting around your waist. Your head went back before comfortably straightening. A warmth spread down your neck, leaving goosebumps to runaway down your shoulder. It was dark now, and in the haze you heard from somewhere so close it felt like maybe you had thought it yourself,  “In perpetuity, mon cher.” 

You didn’t recognize the room at first, but when you finally managed to lift yourself out of bed you sighed. Home. You only knew it had been real because of the robe and busted lip. Well, mostly sure. 

 No one noticed you were gone, which wasn’t shocking. Working backwards, you could piece together you had gone to visit your aunt on Saturday morning. You awoke early Monday in your own bed some 60 miles from your aunt's home. Your car had been found abandoned off an old dirt road way outside of town. 

You tried to get back to life, get to work. But you were clearly only half there.

Your aunt was found dead the following weekend, half submerged in a swamp just outside of Tampa. Her funeral was funny. Not “haha” funny, “Say hi to Val for me” kinda funny. When they lowered her into the ground you wondered what she looked like. What's the animal manifestation of a selfish, raging bitch? What’s the most untrustworthy home appliance? 

Probably a gerbil, or a toaster. 

You found yourself doing that a lot, What will they look like in the afterlife?

It took a good six months for you to stop sleeping in the robe. You couldn’t trash it, it was evidence you had been spirited away. It smelled like smoke and baby oil. Like Angel. It was soft on your skin, like—

Oh. It took less time for the dreams to calm down. Maybe a month of waking up in a cold sweat.  

At first they were stressful. Val backhanding you. The feeling of leather chafing against your wrists. The cabin. The real one, not the set.

But then one night they weren’t stressful. You could remember the dream like it had really happened. A large hand cupping your cheek, another roaming past your hips before hooking under your knee. The warmth of a breath on your neck, on your navel. More hands. Everywhere. Your back, your ankle, your neck. 

You woke up and the first feeling you felt was disappointment. It hit you like a truck. 

The dreams slowly ramped up until some nights you awoke mid-orgasm. Never in your life had you experienced wet dreams; you didn’t even know women got them.

And it wasn’t always him—- well, not at first. You’d be kissing someone, a stranger or your ex or whoever. You’d have your hands in their hair, enjoying the feeling of their tongue sliding over yours. You’d be positively humming into their mouth. They’d pull you forward, lie you down, tugging your pants down your legs.

When they’d kiss up your arm and nestle into your neck they’d whisper hottily into your ear, “My doe.”

Sometimes you woke up, but many times you didn’t. Many times you grabbed his face and kissed him, letting him take control and direct you. You’d shrink beneath him, allowing him to use your body as he pleased. You’d surrender, you’d melt. He’d fuck you into the ground of god-knows-where, nails cutting into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you up to meet each punishing thrust. There were trees and starlight and you felt the humidity on your skin. 

You’d always squirm away, try to escape the pleasure and he would find joy in pulling you back onto his cock. It felt like a game where you both already knew the outcome. “Going to cum, sweetheart?”, would be the last thing you heard before the real life spasms of your release stirred you awake. 

The first man you took home after returning to earth was sweet. Gentle. Too gentle. You’d try to direct him, to let him know you wouldn’t break but he’d shy away from asserting dominance.

Other partners were more in charge, but it didn’t sit right. If you were going to allow someone control over you, you felt like they had to deserve it. You needed to respect them in some capacity. 

You tried choking during sex, while it did heighten the pleasure their hand felt so small it broke your concentration. Bondage was fun, you got a rush from shibari, but all it did was inform your dreams. 

You tried femdom, and while it was impowering it didn’t scratch that itch. You tried being a sub, but like before you found the people over you as unworthy of you. You didn’t think so highly of yourself, it’s just that autonomy was precious and these people were, well, just people. Mortals.  

Your friends enjoyed your hoe era, self titled, but it was short lived. It had been eight months since you returned when you bought your first real sex toy, and took up hiking. It felt nice to be outdoors, and the days you spent in the forests seemed to make for nights of  less intense dreams. 

Your toy was, ashamedly, selected for its three points of contact. A pink little vibrator, big enough to need some work into you but not painful. The first time you used it you clung to your pillow, heart ballooning against your spiked blood pressure, and screamed a chorus of his name. The two points inside you vibrating in tandem with the small suction cup shape extending from the base doming your clit brought back delicious memories. 

Every time, you felt embarrassed after. You could imagine him hearing you all the way in hell and chuckling at how pathetic you were. Satisfied at how empty you felt after.

It wasn’t just about the sex, you were never a very sexually needy person. You were chasing that feeling of surrender, of being both safe and out of control at the same time. The little bit of danger with the pleasure. But not, “local woman found dead in the woods” kind of danger. “Corrupt your soul and ruin your afterlife” kind of danger.

After a year of being earthside, life had finally calmed. Were you still fucked in your dreams? Yes, but a manageable once or so a month. Your toy was nice, but not necessary. A man, or anyone, hadn’t touched you in months. And that was alright. You felt almost normal, except the mornings you woke up hoping to see a pair of red eyes somewhere in the room. 

You chalked it up to escapism. 

Work had promoted you, twice, which helped distract you from boredom. While performing one of your monthly employee meetings, you met with a young man you’d recently hired. He was still in college, but he had a good head on his shoulders and made quick decisions. You were confident he’d be your equal within the year.

(Implied childhood trauma below the line; not graphic but it’s implied to have happened)

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

“Tired?” He asked you while you logged back into your computer. 

You nodded, yawning into the back of your hand, “Spent most of Sunday at Shallow Ridge. Scoping out a good camping spot for when it warms up.”

“No shit, my dad hunts out there. Every Sunday, too.”

“I didn’t take you for the hunting type”, You blinked away the exhaustion and opened his employee file.

“Nah I’m not.” He shook his head, “He used to take me all the time when I was little.”

You nodded, not looking at him and only half listening, “Aww, sounds fun.”

He scoffed. You found the audio file of his graded phone calls, double clicking it. The file seemed corrupted. 

“Not fun?” You absentmindedly asked.

You opened the program to manually find the call file. The silence began to creep over you until you felt your chest heavy under the weight of it.

You finally looked at him. The look in his eyes was distant, the color from his face was gone. 

“Hey”, your tone changed, your subconscious recognizing something before you did.

He snapped back up, looking at you now. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t say anything, just pushed your chair from your desk and looked directly at him.

“What?” He averted his gaze.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? You’re not just a resource here. Hell, I see you more than my own flesh and blood.”

He nodded, and when he finally brought his eyes back to yours his composure cracked and tears fell down his cheeks in streams. “It’s fine” he forced a laugh, “It was like a million years ago.”

You took off the rest of the day, and after providing hugs and your own tears and information on company sponsored counseling and resources, you went home.

Well, first you went to the camping store. And then home. Your dreams that week were calm, as if they knew you couldn’t enjoy a romp in a field.

When Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, you drove your car to Shallow Ridge. You placed the keys on the front seat and left your phone under the seat itself.

You waited for four hours, but eventually a truck pulled up and the man you saw in various Facebook photos and tagged family Christmas cards made his way into the dense forest. You circled back on the trail, head dizzy. 

You knew you couldn’t overpower him, but you weren’t trying to win. You just wanted to make him hurt. You’d met men like him before. You’d suffered men like him. Survived men like him. When you two crossed paths on the barely marked trail and you were a beat behind him, you stopped, took out the hunting knife you were told could cut bone, and brought it down into the crook of his neck with both hands.

He whipped around, shock and panic on his face as his hands came back from his shoulder bloody. When he scrambled for his gun you sliced at his chest, then again at his throat but it wasn’t deep enough to stop him. 

As he advanced on you, fumbling with his shotgun, you tumbled backwards. He fell with you, pinning you down beneath the full weight of his body on your stomach. Twisting beneath him you almost got onto your side when you sunk the knife into his inner thigh, remembering the artery there from your mother’s surgery. He got the gun loaded, aimed it at your chest, “Crazy bitch!”

“Fuck you.” 

He fired.

Your breath left steam as it flitted weakly from your body, frost still on the ground. Your mouth was open as blood held your face to the forest floor. As your vision darkened, you watched the man slump over and onto the ground beside you. His eyes were open and unmoving. 

A burst of green erupted from beneath you, and you smiled as you sank down into the light.

“Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?”

(Part three)

༻Masterlist༺

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Helluva boss #helluva boss x hasbin hotel #Hasbin hotel x helluva boss #Smut #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #18+ content #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x you #the radio demon #radio demon #alastor the radio demon

[pandoraslxna]

❄️ Kinkmas — 01. Cockwarming ❄️

Neteyam x female human reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: cockwarming, soft morning sex, fluff, size difference, belly bulge

⋆｡° ✮ Translations: ngaytxoa = sorry / my apologies, tsawke = sun, mowan = pleasing / enjoyable (physically, sexually), yawne = beloved

⋆｡° ✮ For my precious @viviartsy who requested fluffy morning sex 🩵

It was winter on pandora, one of those late days when everything was so cold that no matter how much wood you placed into the fire or under how many blankets and furs you buried yourself in, there were still goosebumps on your arms.

On top of it being the hard frost of winter, it was also early, and the sun was just barely starting to shine over the horizon, leaving the marui a fuzzy blue-gray. Loosely-closed cloths that served as curtains filtered light in, everything painted in the cool tones of a winter morning.

The first rustle in the blankets came from you, soft skin sliding against the blue of your mate’s, the woven sheets whispering icey secrets. You could feel the cold in your bones, but also in Neteyams body as he pressed himself closer to you.

"You’re cold…", you whispered.

"Ngaytxoa…" He sounds so alien when he’s drowsy, everything almost growled or purred or chirred, all at the same time. In these moments he often forgets to switch to the sky people’s language.

The sheets whispered again as you turned around, shifting ever so slowly to welcome the much bigger na‘vi into your arms, let him scoot closer until he’s laying between your soft thighs, face buried against your chest and his arms holding you close. He’s so cold, you could feel it in his chest, in his thighs, where he was usually so warm.

As much as the Na‘vi resembled what your kind called a cat, they were much like reptiles during the colder days, hardly moving until they were warmed up. Sleeping nude didn’t help much, but it was so hard to give up on touching each other. With you so close, hands sliding over his back and arms, cradling the back of his head, you could feel the more cat-like side of him rising, rubbing against you so slowly, soaking you in, seeking your warmth.

"Y’so warm, tsawke." The words were slow and mumbled against the skin of your breasts. His hands found your hips, sliding down to the curve of your bottom, where icy fingers pressed into your flesh, kneading a handful of each cheek. His tail tangled with your ankle, while he tried to wrap you around him like a blanket, slowly rocking his body against yours.

Your legs tightened around his middle and you felt him move, his skin pressed so closely to yours anywhere he could.

You almost didn’t notice the slight pressure from something hard prodding at your thigh if it didn’t send a chill right through you. As his blood heated up, so did the rest of him as well it seems. He felt like he was made of ice against you, but he was starting to warm and it seemed he wasn’t the only thing waking up. Morning sex was almost a constant for you both, and not even the grip of winter could dissuade his libido.

"Need you", Neteyam groaned lowly, a little short of words but you knew exactly what he was asking for.

"Come here", you smiled softly. The words are whispered between you both, not wanting to break the silence that the season brought this early in the morning.

Sliding into you was like diving into a hot spring, wet and warm. Your walls wrapped around him like a blanket and it made him melt into you, a content sigh of relief leaving his lips.

He shuddered as he bottom out, almost pulling away before settling on you again and rolling his hips slowly before coming to an halt completely. You could only imagine how intense the temperature difference was for him like this, especially with how sensitive he was in the morning.

You could feel him bulging your stomach, your own arousal smearing between your fused bodies which raised even more goosebumps on your skin.

Neteyam doesn’t even get a chance to voice his comfort before your walls ripple, tightening around his cock as if to proof that this was the best way to warm him up, then loosening just a bit before starting again.

You moaned softly as the pulsing of his cock got stronger, while your body subconsciously worked his length, giving him the best kind of a massage. Eywa, Neteyam doubt anything na‘vi could ever feel better as his precious human mate did.

"Mmh… mowan, ywane", he breathed heavily, "haa, fuck…"

"Does it feel good?", you murmured, a smile pulling at your lips as you let your eyes flutter closed.

"Hmh, soo good…."

He barely rolled his hips then, pushing further into you while you moaned softly. Your hips moved to meet his, then setting still so that he nudged perfectly against that spongey spot deep inside you that drove you both crazy, and apparently one of the very few ways for him to finish quickly.

You couldn’t even count the times he had fucked you senseless and purposefully knocked the fat tip of his cock against your cervix, just to work himself to his own end. The thought about doing this to his small human mate so effortlessly always had his mind spiraling. He was always so limp and almost loopy with satisfaction then. He cuddled a lot more than usual after those times too, though that’s not saying much.

Now though, now it was just the barest rub against it, feeling the bulge of your tummy and listening to the sweet sounds you made while keeping him warm. You felt more than heard the rumble in his chest that wasn’t really a purr and more like a muffled moan.

Time passed indefinitely like that, wrapped around each other and barely moving at all. You might’ve fallen back asleep if it weren’t for the tingly feeling of being so full of him that kept you from drowsing off.

Neteyam warmed steadily from there, until both of your bodies were the same temperature and you couldn’t tell where he started and you ended. After a while, he started to move a little, small little trusts every few minutes, although he was not quite fully awake yet. You could feel that he was still half asleep, though he sounded ready to finish soon enough. You shifted slightly to kiss the top of his head where it was still nestled between your breasts, then his shoulder, before you begin to leave a trail from there to his jaw.

Neteyam also began to shift then, just enough for your lips to meet gently as he rolled his hips against yours, his length swallowed up into the warmth of your deliciously slick cunt. The new pace made you both pant softly against each others lips.

You went back to kissing after a few breaths, a bit more insistent this time and with more hunger behind it. Both of your bodies kept crawling so slowly towards your climax, prepared to go over the edge as soon as you were both ready for it.

"Nng… close, m‘close…", Neteyam‘s voice was muffled, both of your moans swallowed by the kiss. "Feels so good, so warm."

"M- Me too", you whimpered softly, clenching your thighs around his hips to pull him in deeper. The position allowed your clit to gently rub against his pubic bone, the friction adding just enough to your growing orgasm.

Your shared orgasm comes just as slow and quietly as the rest of this has been, the constant feeling of pressure on his cock and then the little rolls of his hips guiding you both over the edge with low groans, sweet little moans and a short, sharp thrust. He makes a sound that’s so incredibly content that you can’t help but smile down at him as he basks in your climax. You can feel him squirming around, his cock twitching and throbbing as your walls milk him, sucking down every drop. God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to the warmth spreading so deep on your belly you felt hot all over.

After this, Neteyam nuzzles himself even closer to you, his tail swishing under the blanket like a happy puppy because he feels the way you warm up around him even more, spending heat to him like a cozy fireplace.

"I love you", he sighs and then finally blinks his eyes open to look up at you and you swear you lose yourself in those warm, sun kissed orbs. The only real, golden warmth of the sun this season holds and you think you could live forever with just them.

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #Neteyam #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #atwow neteyam #avatar neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x you

[andypantsx3]

part ii of the dragon shouto au : prequel + part i warnings: unedited lol, afab implied fem reader, possessive dragon boyfriend shouto, unrealistically excellent first time, 18+ minors please dni!!

the thing about having a human-shaped shouto on your hands was that he didn't quite seem to understand humans did things differently than dragons.

where before you'd cuddle up against shouto in his dragon form and spend the night insulated under his thick leathery wings, or let him rest his head in your lap as you absently stroked his scales—those things took on an entirely different connotation when you thought about performing them with a human man.

particularly a human man who looked like shouto.

shouto did not appreciate the distinction.

"i am yours and you are mine," he said simply, the third night after he'd transformed.

you'd tried to take him home, at first, unclear about what to do with an entire human man on your hands, but had quickly realized this unwise.

your parents, ordinarily traditional and fussy, had been floored by the audacity of your bringing a man home still unwed. but they had kept their distance once shouto's pupils went slitted, and a familiar guttural noise tore out of him when they attempted to remove you from him, not-quite-human-teeth snapping.

it was exactly as it had been when you'd brought him home as a child, and he a lizard the size of a fat cat. he'd staked an unmistakable claim on you, and any hand that got between you two would be severed.

so you'd taken shouto back out into the field where he'd transformed, in the interest of keeping your family home intact. you'd lit a fire again, camping out with him over night, trying to keep your distance and failing.

"it's different with humans," you said, freezing when shouto's head suddenly appeared in your lap. he looked up at you expectantly, those blue and grey eyes searching your face, a tiny frown on his lovely mouth.

"it is not different. you are mine in any form," he said. a large, elegant-fingered hand caught yours, guiding your hand up to his hair.

you laughed despite yourself, his insistence on being pet all too familiar in any form as well. carefully, you stroked your fingers through the red and white strands, marveling at their silky softness. shouto's eyes slipped closed and he let out a contented huff, long eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks.

your face heated. he was very beautiful.

"in human custom, i can only belong to one man," you said to shouto, unable to keep the dismay from your voice.

you did not want to take a husband, and it would be all the more difficult now that the entire village had seen human shouto trailing after you the last few days, following you as he always did in his dragon form. except now they had all seen very human, very male hands on you, had seen how closely shouto shadowed you, as if your body was an extension of his own, and no space was needed between you.

you knew there was already talk.

"i am one man," shouto rumbled, turning his face into your stomach. something fluttery jumped in your stomach as the feeling of his soft exhalation over your hip bone.

"i meant a husband, shouto," you said. "i am obliged to take a husband."

shouto was quiet a moment, before another slow, hot breath warmed the fabric of your shirt. "you said i was the only boy for you."

something lightning hot raced up your spine, embarrassment mixed with the thrill of the implication. you looked into the fire for something to do with your attention, watching the flames lick over the logs.

"i said that when you were a dragon," you hissed, your ears prickling with heat. "i didn't mean you would be my husband."

a strong arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you that much closer to shouto, locking you against him. a fiery blue eye cracked open, fixing on you with inhuman intensity. the pupil looked a little slitted in the firelight, and you swallowed in apprehension.

"i am yours and you are mine. if that means i am to be your husband then i will be," shouto said with unmistakable decisiveness.

the thing in your stomach fluttered again, and your thighs shifted beneath shouto's head. his other hand gripped the flesh above your knee, holding you in place.

you choked, your hands freezing in shouto's mop of white-and-scarlet hair. "you don't know what that means."

his hands tightened on you. "i have lived among your people nearly as long as you have. i am not unfamiliar with human custom."

your face burned, words slipping out of your reach. did he really understand what he was saying here? you'd known he'd long understood you, but it had never been clearly exactly how much his dragon brain was processing. but now...

"but you can't—if you know what it means—shouto, you can't—"

a hot mouth met the skin of your stomach, just under your shirt, and the words choked off in your throat. a slow, careful nip to your skin made you freeze.

"i will be your husband and you will be mine," he purred, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. his mouth dragged over your hip.

your hand fisted in his hair, gripping on for purchase. shouto did not seem to mind, his mouth mapping the edge of your stomach, your hip, the waistline of your unladylike trousers.

a shaky breath escaped you. "there are parts of a human union, though, shouto, that i'm not sure you, um, quite understand."

the hand at your knee slid up your thigh as the hand at your back disappeared, reappearing at your hip, pulling the waist of your pants a little lower.

"i understand," shouto replied, his mouth meeting the newly exposed strip of skin above your pelvis. it was only his grip on you, the weight of him across your legs that kept you from jumping a mile into the air. "i have taken this form for that reason."

words failed you, their meanings slipping right out of your mind as shouto's mouth moved painfully gently and deliberately lower and lower.

"ah, shouto—" you managed.

shouto hummed, and you felt his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your stomach, though most of his face was obscured by the fall of your shirt.

"you smell like mine," he rumbled into your skin, sounding altogether too pleased. "i will make it so. i will keep you and care for you as you have kept and cared for me."

another trembling breath quivered in your lungs before you found yourself flat on your back on the ground. shouto had somehow managed to keep himself beneath your shirt, only this time his mouth met the underside of your chest bindings.

"you like it," his voice sounded wondering where it issued from beneath your shirt. you'd have found it comical if not for what he was saying. "you like this form—i can smell it."

his weight moved on your legs, shifting into the cradle of your thighs. he was so warm and broad over you, hot as fire even though the shirt and trousers you'd managed to wrangle him into.

you did not like being laid so bare, but shouto was your oldest friend, and your attention was rapidly being subsumed not by his words but by the feeling of your chest bindings coming undone under your shirt.

"shouto—you are, um, of course very handsome," you said, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. you thought you should push him away to have this conversation from a safer distance, but your arms were barren of the strength to do so, instead clutching him closer. "but you've only been a man for a couple of days. what if there are other women who—oh—oh!"

a hot mouth closed over your left nipple, soft but firm as if in reprimand. "there are no other women. there is only you."

a hot tongue, a little longer than you thought might be normal, laved over the peak. your hips pressed up into shouto without your say so, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. he was doing a little too well under there.

"sho—shouto," you said when he found the other breast, long fingers pulling your bindings down to expose it to him. you'd never had a man's mouth on you before, except for the kiss shouto had given you upon first transforming.

the feeling was mind-numbingly good, and suddenly the idea of a husband—of shouto as your husband—was altogether too appealing, if this is what it was going to be like.

your hips shifted into him again, and you felt his rumbling purr in the meat of your breast.

"my treasure. mine." shouto said when he finally seemed satisfied with the attention he'd lavished on your breasts.

he pulled himself back out of your shirt, leaning in to take your mouth instead as he laid himself out over you. you could feel something firm and insistent press against your inner thigh, hot and hard and unmistakable.

shivers crawled up your skin, little frissons of pleasure.

"say you will be mine," shouto puffed against your mouth, his hands already yanking at your trousers. "please say you will be mine."

he was so handsome over you, your most steadfast friend wearing the most beautiful face you had ever seen, new to you and yet so undeniably familiar, somehow. the sight of him settled that feeling inside you you'd had your entire life, the feeling that the thing you were meant for was just out of reach, just beyond the next corner.

he looked like everything you were meant for—everything that was meant for you.

feeling strangely squirmish and shy, you managed an answer. "i always have been."

a heartbreakingly beautiful grin swept over shouto's mouth, a sweet half-moon. his pupils were unmistakably slitted, his two-toned eyes looking just as they did in his dragon form.

in a few shift movements shouto had you both divested of your trousers, and was pressing slowly, carefully inside you.

the feeling was strange, foreign. but with shouto over you, the weight of him holding you down kept you grounded, and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder kept you just distracted enough as he slid home inside of you.

you felt full in a way you'd never imagined, physically and otherwise. your nerves sparked to life when two of shouto's fingers found their way to where you connected, pressing firmly over your clit. a shivery moan escaped you, and shouto's mouth clamped down lightly over your shoulder.

"mine, mine, mine," he groaned into your skin, flexing his hips. the slide of him inside you was better than you'd known it would be, especially when he cupped the small of your back, pulling you into him at an angle.

between his fingers on your clit, rubbing little insistent circles, and the press of him inside of you, you quickly grew frantic, returning his thrusts with eager motions of your own hips, reveling in the way it sent sparks skittering up all your nerve endings.

your liked the way your breasts pressed into his chest, the firm way he held you to him, the bruises he was sucking into the skin of your neck. talented fingers pinched carefully at your clit, a slurry of sensation.

he seemed determined to work you up, hard and fast, and he was succeeding. you felt like pudding in his hands, melting, dripping, hot over his fingers. every single one of his movements seemed calculated to drive you insane, drive you to writhe against him harder, more desperately.

in no time at all you were gasping his name into the cool night air, chasing the release of an unfamiliar pressure.

"let go, love," shouto said, kissing your mouth again. "let go and be mine."

you nodded, words failing you as something inside of you snapped and a tidal wave of pleasure crashed into you, sweeping away all thought. shouto fucked you right through it, his groans rumbling into growls, full-throated and deep. the slide of him inside you became almost too much and you squirmed underneath him, but couldn't bring yourself to want it to stop.

shouto's thrusts grew faster, messier. you heard his fingers rake the ground at the side of your head as he finally came too, his slender hips grinding into your thigh as he spilled inside of you. he went rigid over you, huffing your name, until finally he relaxed into you, his hard body pinning you to the ground.

"this will be an interesting conversation to have," you said some minutes later, when both of you had settled. your hands found their way into shouto's hair again and he pressed up into them like a pleased tomcat.

"there will be no question now. you are my mate, and i am your husband," shouto said, sounding smug. his eyes were closed but you thought they would be glittering with pleasure if they were open.

"we'll still need to do the human ceremony," you said. "but i can't imagine anyone could stop us."

shouto all but purred. "i will eat them if they try."

you laughed, yanking on his hair. "you will do no such thing."

"then i will fly you off to the nearest cave and mate you so thoroughly no questions could ever be asked," he said instead. "there will be no doubt you are mine."

your thighs clenched involuntarily around his hips, and you could tell by the flutter of his long lashes that he was suppressing a smug expression.

"maybe for the honeymoon," you allowed, trying not to sound too interested.

but shouto was your oldest friend and you were learning he'd long known everything about you. "definitely for the honeymoon," he decided, shifting to pull you into the circle of his arms, tucked safely into his side.

you settled into his embrace, feeling truly content for the first time in your life, certain of the one thing shouto had been insisting this whole time.

you were his, and he was yours. always.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto smut #shoto x reader #character: todoroki shouto #dragon shouto au

[fizzlo-and-the-cubes]

uoghoughghg bloodbender au follow-up

(idk if any of you watched rottmnt and caught the reference here but i'm making this phil act more like a draxum-type character. there will be more references to draxum in the future. this is a threat.)

extra notes under the cut vvvv

phil wont get attached to these kids, he's a warrior after all (he gets attached after like a month lmaoooo)

missa first only came to the human world for it's music - he hates humans actually. after chayanne and tallulah showed him kindness though he started street performing and gave his earnings to the two of them

missa doesn't pull the wet cat act with phil here he gives that man passive aggressive hell

maybe phil disturbed something in the spirit world and it pissed missa off?

phil's plan is to move around unpredictably in order to evade someone and the kids follow him (to his irritation)

if i ever make this into a full on story i imagine they'd go to the earth kingdom first, where foolish and tubbo are building a city of their own that phil wants to seek refuge in

they go undercover most places (hence the different outfits) because phil is wanted in literally every country

cellbit is being held in a prison in the fire nation for bloodbending. while scouting ways to break him out, roier found pepito and brought him back to foolish

bagi is also a bloodbender but she barely uses her abilites. chayanne might seek her out later on in the story

roier carries a spool of metal rope and uses it to swing between buildings

charlie is a water bender and lives in the foggy swamp with juanaflippa

vegetta and willy are combustion benders

jaiden baghera and carre are air benders

etoiles can bend lightning

pepito is taught earth bending by foolish and roier, water bending by cellbit and juannaflippa (sometimes), air bending by carre and fire bending by leonarda

no dead eggs there will be no sadness (there will be sadness but i like the dead eggs and they cant bend if they're dead)

tallulah thinks chay wants to meet cellbit to learn blood bending, but in reality he wants cellbit to remove his bending entirely

if you've read this far you're being perceived YOU'RE BEING PERCEIVED OOGABOOGABOOGA NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE-

please bear in mind I'm not an expereinced writer in the slightest and i've never had the balls to make an au before so please bear with me as I get a better understanding of the qsmp characters. there are dozens of people to account for and i want to be fair and accurate with who i portray. k thx luv u all /platonic BYEEEEE

#qsmp #qsmp au #qsmp bloodbender au #qsmp philza #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp missa #qsmp foolish #qsmp roier #qsmp leonarda #qsmp pepito #ououghgh i gave it its own tag i feel so CRINGEEEEE #idk if i'll even make this into something but y'all were so nice on the first one so i made you guys something to chew on

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: They sing going to war

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

While serving alongside the human forces during the Torus Campaign I learned much of their strange culture.

Their need to stack foods in elaborate combinations which they call a “Sandwich”, their constant need to play “The Game” without ever explaining what it is unless to tell you that you have lost it, and even their obsession with petting anything within arm’s reach with an almost religious like dedication; but the strangest custom I only witnessed during the final stages of the war.

We had just deployed over the world of Obidon III and were launching a joint ground assault with the human forces. Enemy resistance was expected to be heavy and many would not survive the drop, but command believed that if enough forces reached the surface of the planet they could establish a beachhead and allow the rest of the contingent to be brought in.

During the decent to the planet all I could do was keep my eyes closed and hope beyond hope that we would survive. I was so lost in this trance like state that my friend Septem had to physically smack me on the helmet to get my attention and tell me to turn my radio channel to frequency 13.

I was confused at first since that frequency was being used for our human allies but he insisted that I would not believe what they were doing. So I reset my radio in my helmet to frequency and what I heard was something I had never expected on a battlefield.

They were singing.

The frequency was chalk full of voices in such volume that I had to turn down the volume but it seemed like every single human that was part of the attach was joining in the song. My translator unit was trying to keep up but the sheer intensity of the humans singing was causing it to drop in and out, picking up every other word.

I wanted to listen closer to them but the enemy flak began pounding the outside of our dropship. Each detonation sent the ship rattling side to side violently. I had just retightened my straps when a shell burst just beneath us sending a shockwave through the ship so strong it sent several of my comrades flying from their seats into the opposite wall. They hit the wall hard and did not get back up when their bodies collapsed to the ground.

All I could think about was how this was the moment I was going to die. This was the moment my existence in this universe comes to its conclusion and I return to the dust and atoms of the cosmos. And as I tuned myself to this reality all I could hear were the humans still singing over the radio.

They must have been going through the same amount of enemy fire as he was and yet still they somehow were still able to sing as if nothing was wrong with the world. I got so focused on their singing that I forgot about my worries for such a time that I was startled when the dropship landed with a loud thud against the planet’s surface and the boarding ramp lowered.

The following battle was a grueling six hour run and gun with the enemy as we tried to carve out a safe LZ for reinforcements. I got separated from my unit on more than one occasion and wandered into the human designated areas in the confusion.

To my utter surprise the humans were still singing.

Clad in their blue and gold armor, they broadcasted their voices from their helmet speakers as they advanced street by bloody street. One of them took shelter with me for a time as we prepared to rush a fortified courtyard which housed heavy anti air emplacement. I nodded a greeting to the human who replied in kind, yet their voice never ceased in song. I saw them rush around the corner and take several heavy rounds to their chest, but the shells ricocheted off the armor leaving only scratches on the paint.

I watched in disbelief as this wild singing human leaped over the barricade and slapped a detonation charge on the anti-air weapon before leaping back as it exploded the weapon. They stood in the smoldering flames to take a moment to catch their breath when a sniper’s round from down the street struck them in the head and blew out a large portion of their cranium. It was the first time during the entire battle I had seen a human die but I did not have long to contemplate it as the rest of the humans charged past, still singing, in the direction of the snipers shot.

Another hour of combat and the landing site was finally secured and reinforcements were brought in to take our positions. What was left of the initial landing force were sent back to orbit and recover and regroup from their losses. Out of my people’s forces I was one of twenty soldiers to have survived. I imagined the humans had lost equally as many until the pilot remarked that additional shuttles had been dispatched to carry their force back up. It seemed that despite the intensity of the fighting only three of their warriors had fallen in battle; one of them including the warrior I had watched fall.

I was beyond myself.

These reckless warriors had somehow survived one of the most intense battles the campaign had seen and only lost three of their number.

Once back on the ship the first chance I could I sought them out for an explanation. They were quartered in the lower reaches of the ship, isolated from the other contingents onboard.

Outside their area were two guards still in full armor that initially would not let me through until one of them recognized me from the fighting in the city. I was then led inside and found many of the humans feasting and laughing. Two long rows of had been setup facing each other; between them were several fires, each with a different animal being roasted over them. At the end of the rows stood three large pyres of wood which held three bodies atop each of them.

As I passed through the humans many ceased their laughter and looked at me, their eyes with suspicion. We made it half way through the throngs when a giant of a human stepped forward and blocked our path. They demanded to know why I had been let it in; going even further to say they will throw me out personally if the answer was not good. The guard who had recognized me said I had witnessed the last moments of one of the fallen and would speak of their deeds. There was a long pause as the large human glared at me, his eyes as cold as the crescent moon of my homeworld.

The human finally relented and let out a loud boastful laugh, clapping me on my shoulders and welcoming me to the feast. Those gathered around cheered and similarly welcomed me now as the ceremony proceeded once more. I could barely say anything as I was seemingly pulled into the celebration. I drank, I ate, I laughed, I even boasted of my own achievements during the battle.

At the height of the feast I was called forward to speak of the final moments of the human soldier I watched die. I learned their name had been Moris Yu, and had served in the human contingent since the beginning of the campaign. I spoke of his final moments, of how he charged the enemy alone and had single handedly destroyed their war machine. I spoke of the snipers bullet laying him low to which all the gathered humans spoke as one “To Odin’s hall he flies.”

With that pyres were set on fire and the bodies slowly turned to ash. I imagine it had some significant ritualistic meaning in human culture but it was beyond me.

After the funeral I asked one of the soldiers the question I had come to them with.

“Why do you sing in battle?”

The human took a long huff from a wooden pipe and blew a cloud of smoke before answering.

“Long ago, my people were raiders and conquerors of the sea.” They began, “Our gods watched over us and should we prove worthy we would be sent to them to join them in their halls and fight alongside them for eternity.”

“There was one warband led by a giant of a man called Osmond Frig. He loved song just as much as he loved fighting, so he made his warriors sing during every fight as it made him happy.”

“They agreed to such silliness?” I asked, to which the human grinned.

“They did after he felled the first three men who laughed at him with a single blow from his axe.” They finished before continuing with their story.

“What was truly surprising was not the sight of these warriors singing, but rather the fact that they were rather good at it. It was said they could make the Valkyries themselves shed a single tear with their songs.”

“Eventually one of the gods, Bragi, noticed Osmond’s warband and took a liking to them. Much like the Valkyries he too was moved by their song and decided to reward them with his patronage. He used ancient magic and made it so as long as the warriors sung they would be impervious to harm of all kinds.”

“So the warband grew in fame and glory as they went conquest to conquest, emerging from battles against impossible odds with nay a scratch on them. First across the northern seas, then across the continent of Europe, and then soon the entire world knew of Osmond; which is when they finally drew the attention of the king of the gods, Odin.”

“Odin watched these powerful warriors and wanted them in his hall for the eternal battle, yet despite every challenge they faced they emerged victorious. No matter what enemy Odin placed in their path or scheme he unleashed on them they refused to fall. Odin knew of Bragi’s patronage and tortured the god to reveal his secret and after seven days and seven nights Bragi told Odin of the spell he had cast and how it could not be undone.”

“But that was all Odin needed to secure his warriors.” The human said with a devil’s grin.

“During the midst of the most recent battle Odin took the form of a mighty warrior and stalked the fields for his prey. He waited for each warrior to catch their breath and cease their song before striking and slaying them, one by one. By day’s end only Osmond remained to fight Odin and though he sang long into the night he too eventually gasped for air and was slain.”

“So that is why you sing?” I asked the human. ‘Because you believe your gods will protect you?”

The human chuckled and nodded to the three pyres. “Did you not say that Moris was only slain after he ceased singing?”

I wanted to counter him with some logic, some reason grounded in reality, but I could not. I left that human area with a profound new perspective of myself in the grand scheme of the universe.

The next time I was in a combat drop my comrades laughed when I began singing. I wasn’t sure if it was good or not, but I hoped that in some way the human god would at least find me amusing and let me live another day.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #odin #bragi #norse mythology

[littlemoonglow]

Warning: Long post?

—

Jason did not expect his ghost form to feel…like this.

(Oh, dealing with his body randomly phasing through the ground and smacking his face onto hard concrete was not fun, but Jason dealt with that just like with every other hurdle in his life. By being more stubborn than the problem itself.)

It felt like something… settled into place. That was the best way he could describe it.

He felt as if spite and anger were finally not the only things keeping him awake and running. 

He felt calm, almost. Stable, at least. Whatever pent up energy that was stuck in his chest cavity now flowed freely throughout his body, redistributed, instinctually easier to manage.

It's almost like he could breathe a little bit easier.

(After much… ranting that Jason decided to ignore for his own sanity, Danny said that his case ectoplasmic corruption was probably due to the fact that Death, as a concept, doesn’t let go of things easily, time shenanigans notwithstanding.)

(Becoming a half-ghost was seemingly the only working compromise.)

—

Danny once told him that broad strokes of a ghost’s personality could be guessed by looking at their physical appearance. 

Despite the cool powers, this was a slight downside. Jason dealing with the filth of the Earth meant that being to hide his emotions and who he is was kind of important. Life saving, even.

He realized later on that his ghost form was way too easy to read.

—

He looked at his arms covered in bandages, and got reminded of the amount of times he had to patch himself up in the last month.

His jacket was ripped in place he knew that would have been sewn together when he was a living breathing human (well, as much as he could be).

He always looked slightly on fire?

(Danny told him it's probably related to his... core?)

(He know he died in an explosion but really?)

And then, there was his… veil? Shroud? Cloak?

It looked really nice.

But on the other hand…

It drooped when he felt under the weather. It flicked and thrashed around when he’s either irritated or barely holding back his urge to headshot someone.

And—

(No Danny, my cloak was not fucking wagging when you brought me fresh ectoplasm last week, you’ll have to get your goddamn eyes checked—)

He'll deny it until the day he dies (a second time).

And then his cloak could sometimes just…grow bigger. He figured that it acted as an extension of his own body, and had a nice add-on of allowing him to sense things he couldn't see. Hell, he could even make a hand out of it (wacking Danny with it - gently - never gets old). Jason had to also admit it looked cool, with the wispy bits and with one of its sides becoming a bright yellow.

(It reminded him a bit of his time as Robin.)

—

Being a ghost had a lotta perks.

Dealing with targets was so much easier when no one could see you. Inflitration was so much simpler when walls became optional. Cameras will glitch out when he's around, he left no traces visible to the naked eye and, combined with his training, to say that it was useful would be an understatement.

But, sometimes, he feels like he’s changing as well the more he transforms. Not drastically, but enough for him to look back and notice.

He usually was someone who prided on being efficient and straight to the point.

But now he’s starting to… have fun.

He started using his claws whenever he could. Don't het him wrong, he still uses his guns plenty, but there was just something deeply satisfying about vaulting over things, scaling a wall or crawling on the ceiling with bare hands. 

(Punching people is still the most satisfying by far, though.)

That one time hunting down the Joker wannabes was fun too.

(Danny said he’d get along great with Skulker? Did Jason want to find out? No.)

Fading in and out of invisibility, he picked them off one by one, watching as panic and dread slowly but surely creeped up on the remaining ones.

(After all, he has no respect for those trying to emulate the dead clown.)

—

(Yeah, the Joker was dead.)

(Surprisingly, that has not been a good day.)

—

One of the favorite things he liked to do was rooftop parkour. The… bendability of gravity is… fun, not gonna lie.

(Not flying though. Jason is used to having feet in regular contact with solid ground, thank you very much. No offense, Danny.)

But he gets why ghosts love to fly. When he’s jumping from rooftop to rooftop in Gotham in the at night, watching the city light fly by, cloak spread behind him, it’s as if nothing else matters. 

(No Joker, no petty criminals to beat up, no avoiding the Bats so they don’t find out about his existence—)

He can just enjoy, even just for a little bit.

—

(Somehow the Demon Brat and Orphan could sense him. Will keep and eyes on those two, and also the more reasons to avoid them.)

(The real problem was the new Bat in town. Bruce, what the fuck, another one? Again?)

(The yellow one, Signal. No time to check his profile yet, but probably a meta or something.)

(First night out and the guy almost managed to actually fucking see him —looked at him straight in the eyes and all, then did a double take. Jason never phased into the pavement so fast in his entire fucking life.)

(And so far no Bats on his cloak tails yet.)

(He did help the guy incognito, just a couple of times.) 

(And he also did steal his escrima sticks for fun, and once the guy went out looking for them, he’d put them right back where they were.)

(Turns out, he discovered later, that being a little shit runs in the ghost community.)

—

(Sometimes he also wonders what happened to Danny before they met.)

(He wasn't a Gothamite, that was obvious. He doesn’t pry, but it doesn’t take a lot to piece two and two together.)

(He just wonders who he has to kill this time.)

—

(Jason could not believe he forgot and underestimated just how fucking persistent every single one of the Bats could be. Of course it had to run in the family.)

He gazed down, thought the agony, at the gaping wound under his right armpit.

(The Bats have been chasing him relentlessly for a while now. He got more injuries than he can count, especially from Bruce.)

(They know. Oh, they know.)

(It didn’t go well.)

(He knows the others are there surrounding him to prevent him from escaping, he knows that Dick is right behind him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.)

It has been a long time since the last time he got shot.

(It felt like someone set his right side on fire.) 

What was flowing out in abundance was a neon, toxic green.

(The Pit Waters, ectoplasm, he didn’t even know that he could fucking bleed in ghost form—)

(Danny—)

He looked back up at Batman, holding a (frankly) ugly gun, white casing and highlights in the same shade of toxic green. 

(A gun that Danny warned him about. And everything behind it.)

Jason felt something in him... snap.

(Why did it have to be you, Bruce.) 

His mouth opened—

(waitsincewhenhecoulddothatthroughtthe mask—) 

(Jason could see the billows of neon green smoke—)

(He couldn’t see Bruce’s expression.)

(Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.)

— and wailed.

---------------------------------------------------

I am genuinely delighted that my last post got that much attention! Thank you so much, to all who liked, rebblogged and commented, it really does mean the most. 💕

This AU may be continued? No guarantees, tho.

For those interested: Part 01

@fandomnerd103 @phoenixdemonqueen @satisfactionbroughtmeback @ascetic-orange @apointlessbox @bathildaburp @fisticuffsatapplebees @aisforanonymity @phandomhyperfixationblog @help-i-need-a-cool-username @hashtagdrivebywrites @did-i-miss-anyone-tagging-is-a-monk's-job-first-time-doing-this-aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

#jason todd #red hood #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #danny phantom #halfa jason #halfa au #fanart #I may have subconsciously got myself inspired by spawn #as in like i figured it out on a random day halfway through the second painting #and went whooooooops i did it again #It took so long #cauz my perfectionism worked against me #a classic #*cries* #But thanks yall who read the tags #yall delightful #i guess art is a journey but im getting slapped by strong winds in the opposite direction #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp au #the inspiration to write only strikes at ungodly hours of the night i guess

[justalittleficsideblog]

Can I touch your wings..?

Asking to touch / see their wings with Mammon, Lucifer, and Diavolo! i feel like these would be kinda sensitive but not rlly?

Lucifer

you had both been working in his office, you were simply trying to work through your homework without the brothers interfering (as they usually did). Your most recent subject involved the anatomy and biology of demons.

reading through the various lists of wings and their differences, you realized Lucifer's wings were a bit odd compared to the others in the textbook. most were bat or insect-like. Glancing up, you spoke.

"Hey... Lucifer, could I see your wings a minute?"

eyes immediately lifting to meet yours he grunts

"and why.. pray tell?"

fumbling over yourself you flip your textbook over to show him what you were studying. "Yours don't look anything like these! I just wanted to get a better view of them. Pleaseee, it's for my assignment."

rolling his eyes, he stood from his chair and dropped his jacket onto his desk, back facing you. in a blink, they appeared, black feathers swooshing around you.

they were enormous, gorgeous even, the pure slate colored feather tips gently drifting across the floor. you had assumed he had gorgeous angel wings, and that they looked similar to what was in front of you. which made you wonder...

reaching a hand out, your fingertips brushed the spot the wings met his back. before you knew it, he whirled in front of you, grabbing your wrist that was touching his wings.

you staggered back at his reaction, trying to pull free from his grip.

"Don't" he released you as you fell back into the chair, gaping up at him.

"luci... they're incredible! I- I didn't know they were so sensitive, my bad."

he left you to your studies, but you were completely breathless... wanting to touch them in full again.

meanwhile, as lucifer struck out of his office, his heart was erratic in his chest. the feeling of your hands gently stroking his feathers caused him to bristle, no one had ever dare to touch his wings before you...

Mammon

 Somehow you and Mammon had ended up binge watching nature documentaries as he made an offhand comment about not knowing much about humans and their animals.

So, you had picked one about flying animals and now, the narrator was explaining the different types of wings and how each fits the species and their needs perfectly.

Eyeing the male next to you, you thought about his own wings.

“hey… Mammon?” you murmured, causing his head to turn towards you as he raised an eyebrow in question. “I mean… can you show me your wings? I kinda want to compare them to what I’ve seen in the human realm.”

He shuffles awkwardly between himself, turning his head away, “the hell would’ja wanna do that for? You’ve seen them plenty.” You huffed at his reply and grabbed his shoulders, turning his face towards you. Blinking up at him, you gave your best puppy dog eyes.

He squirmed away from you, “uGH, fine! Just… turn around!”

Happily scooching back, you felt a slight breeze as his wings popped out. Glancing at them, you stared in awe as you came closer, looking over the white, bony structure connected by a thin, black membrane that seemed almost translucent the more you looked at it.

You reached out a hand, fingertips brushing along the sharp edges. You felt Mammon shiver beneath your touch, his face becoming flushed as your gentle touch. Were they sensitive? You thought, bringing your hand to wrap around where it connected into his back.

He jolted, wings disappearing as he spun around to face you, sweat starting to slick his brow as he brought up his wrist to cover his mouth. “Alright! That’s enough, you can’t just poke and prod wherever ya please!”

You laughed, short and soft as he became more and more uncomfortable beneath your gaze. Settling back down to the couch, you continued on with the show.

Unbeknownst to you, Mammon was on fire, the spot where his wings met his back was on fire from your touch. He hadn’t realized how sensitive to your touch he was… but he couldn’t say he was complaining.

Diavolo

You had been playing some games with the lord of devildom, entertaining him with games, books, and more about different folklore and fantasy that humans were interested in. He was particularly interested in one of the mini board characters, a dragon to be specific.

“Indeed, it does look rather defiant, does it not?” he asked you. Nodding in reply, you grabbed the mini figurine from him and turned it around to study it. you took particular notice of it’s wings, the hook looking incredibly similar to the ones on someone’s wings…

“Hey, Diavolo? Could I see your wings for a minute?”

Eyes widening, he tilted his head at your request, looking at how you were contemplating the tiny statue in front of you. Did you mean to compare his wings to this…. Tiny clay thing? He smiled and the next thing you knew, Diavolo was in his demon form.

He turned around and rolled his shoulders back, stretching his wingspan to it’s full length. Your mouth dropped open. Fanned out in front of you, were the largest wings you had ever seen. The muscles and membrane that stretched between the structures of all four wings were nothing but impressive. You looked at the changing colors between the membrane, noticing tiny glistening cells that made up the brunt of it.

“Holy shit…” you murmured. To be honest, his wings very well could have been the inspiration of dragons. They looked incredibly strong… you reached out a hand instinctively to touch the …horn? On the top of his wing.

Diavolo laughed at your expression of awe and desire to touch his wings. No one had ever been bold enough to try and touch them, even Barbatos knew better than to brush past them. But you… were so delicate and curious about them. He assumed you thought they were the stuff of legends.

“Are they to your liking?” he flapped his wings, causing a gust of wind to overtake you. Blinking up at him you responded, “They are… something out of a fairytale, Dia. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so…” you were at a loss for words, extending your hand towards the middle of his back, your fingertips brushing along his wingspan.

In a blink, he was towering over you, his wings cocooning you closer to him as you braced your hands against his chest.

“Oh! I- uh… I’m sorry,” you squirmed, backing into his wings. He laughed, transforming back to his casual clothes from before in a blink. He enjoyed teasing you, but you couldn’t ignore the glint in his eyes the way he turned towards you after you touched his skin.

“Well… shall we continue where we left off?” Diavolo gestured to the games laid out in front of him. You nodded, a bit spaced out by the whole ordeal.

“Dia, I have to admit, your wings are magnificent.” Glancing down back towards your book, you laughed as you plunged back onto the couch.

Unaware of his gaze, Diavolo felt an immense pride at the idea of you admiring him. He didn’t consider himself insecure by any means, but he felt his chest flutter at your words… and your touch, he felt his blood scream when you had touched them.

“Well you know… you can see my wings anytime you like.”

#obey me mammon #shall we date #obey me #mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #om! diavolo #diavolo x you #this has been fermenting in my drafts for like a week lmfao

[radiance1]

The League tried to interrupt a summoning of a powerful being from the Infinite Realms. From the information they collected, the being isn't of the status of a royalty, but they still had to be careful as the being the summoners tried to call forth was still of noble status.

They failed.

The head cultist finished the ritual, the last words to finish the summoning left their tongue and the room was suddenly doused in heat, as black flame came to life from within the circle, twisting and turning, back and forth until a pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from inside the twisting pillar of flame and just as suddenly as the eyes appeared, was the pillar broken apart.

What was left behind was the figure of a giant phoenix, wings spread as embers black as night gently fell down to the floor below and suddenly disappearing, as if they were never there in the first place.

"Who dares to disturb-" The being started, eyes scanning the crowd below before stilling, extremely and worryingly quiet. One of them quietly cursed. "Constantine..." The creature's voice was low, dangerously low, no doubt anger in its voice as it called out the Warlock's name.

Everyone tensed, expecting something dangerous, except for the cultists, and the Head, who turned his head towards them and smiled, obviously expecting them to be reduced to not even ash.

"100 years. One. Hundred. Years." The being spoke, and confusion wormed its way into the hearts of all those present. "100 years I have waited for you, and when we finally meet once again it's not even you summoned me but these-" The creature waved a wing at the cultist below. "-These fatuous and vacuous little things."

"And what is this? You surrounded yourself with those not even of human birth before you have even thought about me?" The noble's eyes narrowed. "Did our relationship mean nothing to you?

Someone, probably not Constantine, choked.

"Well then, after all of this time you can at least make yourself useful." In a flash of black fire, Constantine was brought from within the ranks of heroes and in front of the beast, a man who seemed to be trying to-and unsuccessfully- lighting a smoke. "Ah, why do that when you have me?" The being purred, bending down to apparently light a smoke before freezing, as if remembering what exactly it was doing, but the action was already done, and Constantine was killing his lungs away.

The phoenix snapped back up to standing above everyone else, clearing its throat as if what happened decidedly didn't happen.

"What exactly did you want me to be useful for, love?" Constantine asked, expelling the smoke from his lungs and deciding that this might as well be happening. The noble huffed, folding its wings at its sides as it stared down at its apparent lover. "Take care of our son for once in your sad, pathetic life."

This time, not only did Constantine choke, but a good chunk of people there did as well. Constantine ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the phoenix incredulously. "Aren't we both men?"

The phoenix looked at his lover as if he were stupid. "Your point?"

"I-" Constantine sighed, took a breath, held, then expelled more smoke from his lungs. Apparently, he decided not to question anything anymore. "You know what? Sure, where is the little bugger?"

Over the next few moments, both the Justice League and Cultists were treated to the noble transforming into a human (still having wings) and handing over their apparent child-who looked nothing like them by being a dragon, but who were they to question the apparent reproduction of a being from the Infinite Realms- and being lectured about what not to do and what to do and how he should be cared for.

Also, a warning for his many powers.

Then the Duke stole a kiss (One that he claimed was long overdue) and left.

The room was silent, only the sounds of breathing occupying the room as the temperature was brought back down to normal levels.

A moment later, Batman walked up to the nearby cultist and punched him across the face and knocking him out cold, suddenly reminding everyone what exactly they were here for.

A while later, in the meeting room, everyone looked at Constantine. Who had a baby eastern dragon wrapped around one arm (who was apparently his child) and rubbing his temple with the other.

"I can't explain this."

===

Danny was actually not Constantine kid, neither was he Vlad's. Biologically, at the very least, however. Vlad did adopt both him and Jasmine a while back after their whole parent fiasco.

They're dead, sadly unable to become ghosts, or perhaps not so sadly.

Of course, they unfortunately outlived Jasmine, which was to be expected, but Vlad and Danny did grow close enough that they no longer viewed each other as enemies.

However, who could have expected that Danny, finally ascending to his princely status, would turn him back into a literal child because he was, for all intents and purposes, one by Dragon standards.

Utter malarkey, he would say.

Taking care of that boy was the worst few memories he has ever had. He was constantly being kept from his sleep, his work being interrupted constantly, and the child managed to find a way to leave his sight at each and every turn.

But there were some sweet moments, he would say.

It's only reasonable, however, that his lover (who he hasn't seen for an entire century might he add) share the workload.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I don't know how to write John Constantine #But I probably can't do worse then the current writers of DC or Marvel. #Probably. #Anyways. #shitpost #At least I think this is a shitpost #Idk #Or maybe its a #crack fic #crackship #But I thought of this and I find it funny so you all shall be cursed with this