Ok ok I always find it funny. Here we are valhalla and toman are about to frigging fight. Ready to beat the shit out of each other and then the Sign in the background is like safety first.
Safety flipping first dude seriously it's like it is holding onto its frigging last brain cell still warning to be safe. You know don't punch too hard. Kazutora no don't use a pipe on mikey's head. And speaking about Mikey where is your damned helmet.
Ok I'm done
@stxrmylxve and @angelsdevils
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Kidnapped Zuko? Rescued by Gaang who dont know who he is and he has to hide his identity.
Okay, so. There’s already a teenager down in Commander Muttonchop’s brig. This fact is so far past concerning it’s wrapped around to let’s-not-think-too-hard-about-this hilarity, and Sokka finds himself grinning, and offering the guy a good ol’ fashioned Water Tribe wrist shake through the bars. They’re neighbors, after all.
“Hello, Fellow Prisoner. What are you in for?”
“I, uh,” says Fellow Prisoner, who is clearly undersocialized from his time in here. He’s looking a little grimy around the edges of his all-black outfit, and the bruises on him have had time to get newer, fresher bruises on top, which is just. That is all kinds of reassuring. Oh, and the giant fiery facial scar. Also reassuring. Though at least that one’s a few years old. So… inflicted when he was, what, Aang’s age?
So reassured, is feeling Sokka, for the Fire Nation’s upcoming hospitality.
“Uh,” repeats Fellow Prisoner, who is uncoiling a little in the direction of Sokka’s offered hand. As if Sokka was trying to coax him out, and hadn’t just sort of forgotten he was holding it there while his thoughts were doing their downward spiral. But hey, one man’s desperate attempts to keep his cool were another man’s offer of friendship. Fellow Prisoner grasped his wrist and shook it, in both the most technically correct and least experienced Water Tribe wrist clasp Sokka has ever experienced.
“Zhao thinks I was stealing military correspondence,” the guy says.
“Were you stealing military correspondence?” asks Sokka.
“Only his,” scowls Fellow Prisoner, to whom Sokka takes an immediate liking. “...What did you do? To get arrested. But not killed. He doesn’t usually…”
So, so reassured.
“Oh, you know,” Sokka says, continuing to shake wrists, because it is becoming clear that Fellow Prisoner has no idea how long this is supposed to last and Sokka isn't going to be the one to stop him. “The usual. Found the Avatar. Became traveling companions. Got captured doing something definitely heroic that did not in anyway involve excessive screaming of an unmanly pitch.”
“...The Avatar?” says Fellow Prisoner, who clearly knows how to focus on the important points.
“I’m bait,” says Sokka.
“For the Avatar.”
To be fair, Sokka is still a little stuck on that point, too. It’s been a few weeks, but he still wakes up too-hot in the night and wondering why the stars above him aren’t quite right.
“Yep,” he confirms.
Fellow Prisoner’s face does a thing. A sort of processing, processing, processing thing that involves progressively more scowling. “The Avatar left you? I knew the old man must be a coward.”
“So,” Sokka says, “about that.”
Fellow Prisoner drinks up Sokka’s story like a man who’s spent three years in a desert searching for water.
- - -
(It’s been two and half years.)
- - -
Their escape involves a significantly higher swords-to-escapees ratio than Sokka had anticipated, which is distractingly epic.
Also, the last-minute bison save is both the stupidest thing his little sister could have possibly done and very welcome, which means that Sokka is going to catch his breath and let some of his adrenaline fade before channeling his inner Gran-Gran for a lecture.
Fellow Prisoner sheaths both his swords. And kind of stares, rather than sitting down, so Sokka pulls him over before the bison turbulence (read: catapult dodging) can do the job. This does nothing to interrupt the staring.
“Hi,” says Aang, looking back from Appa’s head. “I’m Aang! What’s your name?”
“...Li?”
Under the sunlight, Fellow Prisoner’s eyes glint gold. He is… very Fire Nation-y looking, now that there is enough light to see him. And he is warmer against Sokka’s side than anyone not feverish should be, even in the ridiculous heat these northerners call ‘winter’.
“Are you a firebender?” asks Aang, like that question hasn’t spent decades earning its status as an insult.
“Uh,” says Li.
“Great!” says Aang, who has already figured out Li-speak. “I need a teacher!”
On the deck below them, Zhao has gone from shouting to laughing.
Sokka continues to be reassured.
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Nsfw ❤︎ Thinkin’ about sleepy sex with Satan ^_^
I’m talkin’ passionate and quiet sex, Satan reduced to just a tired, needy demon. Seeking comfort in his favorite human after a long day <3
You always make him feel safe, relaxed. Even his mind seems calmer when he’s with you, you feel like home to him.
Even better when he’s got you in his bed, spooning you from behind with his cock nestled inside your warm, welcoming pussy.
Slowly rocking his hips into yours, just the soft sound of skin on skin and the occasional soft moan of each other’s names. Satan’s lips kissing up and down your neck, whispering soft praise right by your ear. Nothing is rushed, just slow, soft movements while he hits your sweet spot each time he ruts into you.
Satan pulling you closer to his chest so he can moan right in your ear while thrusting just a little faster, one of his hands moving down to flick and rub your clit, begging with an almost broken whine of you name to cum with him, please, please, please!!!- in time with his thrusts. Ending in low moan while he tells you how good you did cumming with him. Promising he’ll help you clean up….soon….just….for a few more minutes stay like this, stay with him ♥︎
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