#what else has wings.. huh

[dizzygrizzlies]

“why do you stretch your shoulderblades so much?” my wings boy. boy my wings

[ravewing]

not over how if you go to the flame wof tag im not in the top blogs . like what do you mean tumblr WHAT . i have like ten billion posts of flame . i drew him every day for THIRTY DAYS STRAIGHT . i am his #1 fan . i AM HIM . do not do me like this tumblr i guarantee you i post about him more than anyone else on this app

[twilightarcade]

OC-tober day 6 - symbol

These two freaks.. caduceus ft some assorted article clippings! Transcripts of said article clippings under the cut :]

1- top left

"Caduceus as a symbol of medicine

The caduceus is the traditional symbol of Hermes and features two snakes winding around an often winged staff. It is often used as a symbol of medicine, especially in the United States, despite its ancient and consistent associations with trade, liars, thieves, eloquence, negotiation, alchemy, and wisdom."

2- top right

"The author of the study suggests that professional associations are more likely to have a historical understanding of the two symbols, whereas commercial organizations are more likely to be concerned with the visual impact a symbol will have on sales."

3- bottom right

"Wing clipping is the process of trimming a bird's primary wing feathers or remiges so that it is not fully flight-capable, until it moults, sheds the cut feathers and grows new ones."

4 & 5- behind everything, the long ones

the one on the left is a snippet from the Declaration of Helsinki, while the right is a snippet from the Hippocratic Oath, as written by Louis Lasagna. I don't believe said snippets have been chosen with any particular care but who knows really.

[typingcharactersbymoonlight]

Rui Kamishiro— 7w8 741 sx/sp

This time descriptions fits too well already for me to feel the need to go into my reasonings for why I type him the way I do, so lmk if you want me to go more into how those traits show up in canon and interact with each other, I guess?

Sources: Enneagram Universe, Personality Database, Oceanmoonshine

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.

Pairing : Lucifer x Reader

Word count : 2239 Words

Genre : Fluff, Romance

Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!

a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek

Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-

Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.

"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.

After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.

Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.

It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.

You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.

Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.

"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.

"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.

That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.

The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.

Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.

"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.

You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.

"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.

"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.

Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.

The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.

So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.

"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.

"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.

"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.

"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.

You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.

[thegnomelord]

this isn’t a request but you’re the only writer i know who writes the monster!au so

dragon!reader and dragon!price are haunting my thoughts. dragons usually have to hold themselves back when sparring because they’re so much stronger than other monsters but with price & reader they don’t need to, to the point where the other members of the 141 are kinda wondering if they need to intervene.

what they do or don’t know is this is you and price courting, testing each other’s strength to assess whether you’re suitable mates. once you have decided you’re suitable it continues in the bedroom, fighting for dominance and testing each other’s stamina as price rides you or you pin price down and see if he can take all the strength behind your thrusts.

OH god I LOVE the way you think! I know @rodolfoparras also did a dragon price some time ago but I'm happy to let my monsterfucker out lol :D I'll consider this a spitball thingy but GOD DAMN did my hyperfixation hyperfixate on this :Ddd kinda rushed at the end but it's 3AM :/

CW:NSFW

What about if dragons measure not just raw strength, but all other aspects as well? They're prideful by nature and with so little of them remaining no self-respecting dragon will settle for a witless brute or a powerless scribe.

Price had lost hope in finding a mate centuries ago because he's even pickier than most of his kin; in his view, a proper one needs to be strong enough to completely pin him down, needs to be smart enough to see the insults in his honeyed words and give back as good as he does, needs to be clever enough to lead men as good as he does.

A proper mate needs to keep up with him on all levels.

And for a dragon of his age, that's an unachievable set of criteria. Oh sure, many of the dragons he's met over the years have tried to match him, but all fell short, leaving him lonely and unsatisfied.

Then he met you, a fellow Captain, a fellow dragon. Though only a few centuries younger than him, you're a wyrmling in his eyes, your scales like shining metal compared to his muddled gemstones. An arrogant wyrmling if the way you peacock for him the first time you enter the training room has anything to say about it— your wings spreading out and muscles rippling, back straightening out to make you taller, scales glinting in the artificial light; little details that anyone else can brush off as a simple stretch but to a dragon it screams of your interest in him.

His slitted eyes roam across your body, both equal parts disdain and curiosity. "Got somethin' ta say there boy?" His words are rough like sandpaper.

"No, no." You hum as you get into the ring, every little movement purposely done to showcase your hard earned musculature. "Just that you should skip out on this fight. Wouldn't want you to throw your back out old man."

"Old man huh?" His eyes blaze with the same fire at the end of his cigar, your words igniting something in his chest that had long been extinguished. "I'll show you old."

And suddenly he's in the ring, both of you trading blow for blow with the same savagery your progenitors had frightened mankind with for millennia, your claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete when you miss his side, his tail smashing a portion of the ground into dust when you avoid it, the ground between you cracking when you try to push the other away, loose scales and dust and debris littering the ground as you and Price wrestle on the ground.

Both of your teams watch from the sidelines, your team calming the other members of TF141 that this is just how dragons are, pointedly ignoring your victorious snarl when you pin Price down to the ground, your clawed hand harshly pushing his face into the concrete to the point you might break his nose as you bite the back of his neck, forcing him to submit. "I win,"

"Not fer long." He snarls back just as deep, feeling alive for the first time in who knows how long. "Best two out of three." And with that he jerks, remaining wing slamming into your side and knocking you off balance long enough for him to fling you into the wall opposite of him.

You don't know how many rounds you go before you're forced to stop by a very pissed off Laswell, who also pointedly ignores the obvious bulges in what remains of both of your pants, giving both of you a stern talking to about wrecking the damn training room.

You're ready to leave after being chastised like a child but Price is quicker, passing you with a "Good fight back there." rumbling in his throat, the soft scales of his wing brushing along your jaw. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you meet his gaze, and Price has a good poker face but the smoldering look in his eyes and the low grumble in his chest makes it's obvious you've peaked his curiosity.

But that's just the start, the hard part is keeping it. While regular dragons may spend time with a potential mate conversing on scholarly subjects or having philosophical debates, you and him have a more practical way of assessing the other's intellect — Battle plans.

To your teams it sounds like a harsh argument, ideas thrown around and sharp insults tacked on top, their heads ping ponging between you and Price as you look over maps, trying to one up the other. Eventually your teammates leave you to settle this on your own.

"And I'm telling you, old man," You growl, both of you so close there's barely any space between you as you point at the map. "We can push a smaller team through the forest while we lead the frontal assault, our wip's not going to have anywhere to go then." You huff, holding your head up high to make it obvious you're proud of your idea.

Price gives you the stink eye, before he scans the map again, humming to himself. After a few seconds he lets out a scoff. "We don't have enough men for that." He says, but the sharp edge in his tone is dulled. "But—" His tail moves to brush against your own, your rough scales brushing against his smoother ones. "—It has some merit."

Price doesn't draw attention to the way your tails intertwine, wrapping together like two snakes, and neither do you. But the short purr that bubbles out of your chest says everything he needs to know, growing louder when he answers with his own, your shoulders brushing together. "Aight, back to work." He cuts your purrs short, but you can't hide the pleased look on your face as your tails remain coiled together.

Then comes the actual courting dance.

One late evening spent looking over documents in the privacy of his office, your tails once again coiled beneath the desk after successfully having proved your wit to him again, absentmindedly telling embarrassing stories of your respective teams. . . Price has a revelation. You might be it. "Hey lad."

You look up, your full attention on him. "Yeah?"

With a mumbled grunt too quiet for you to hear Price slides a hand beneath his shirt and pulls a large green scale from the meat of his shoulder blade, the wound healing before it can even bleed.

Instinctively you know what this means, for knowing how a prospective mate treats an extension of you will show how they'll treat you. But you still speak up, needing proof for your own mind that you're not insane and haven't been burning the wrong tree. "What?"

Price glares at you, "Don't play dumb," He says as he slides the large scale across the table to you. "It doesn't suit you." There's an underlayer of heat in his words, blue slitted eyes looking you over in a much more appreciative light.

You can't control the big grin that spreads across your face, "Oh, then what does suit me?" You ask as you follow his lead, yanking out one of your larger scales from your own back and sliding it to him. It makes the difference between you two obvious, his green scale muddled with age compared to your shiny one.

"Arrogant muppet." The gentle way he picks up your scale clashes with his harsh words, cradling it in his hand like it'll crack at the slightest of touches, his face reflected in the surface.

You grin, "Just confident." You feel his sharp eyes judge every minute twitch of your fingers as you pick up his scale. Price's poker face hides the way his heart melts at the loving way you brush a thumb across the surface, how it throbs when you don't immediately attempt to make it shine like some whelps once did, accepting him for how he is by putting it in your breast pocket.

God, he doesn't even know how much he'd fantasized about something like this when he was still young, vestiges of a purr escaping his throat at the tender way you treat his scale. "Right." He shakes his head and places your scale in his own breast pocket, handing you another stack of papers. "Get back to work."

You grin and do as he says, wings twitching as a sign of joy, your tail squeezing down on his and receiving a squeeze in kind.

Price feels like a horny teen when he lays awake in bed late at night with your scale held between his claws. He feels stupid for feeling so giddy at the thought of having a mate, a proper mate, yet his body thinks differently. Just holding it in his hand is enough to make him grow hot, your scent still clings to the scale and Price finds himself holding it close to his nose to familiarize himself with it and Hell his body loves it, cocks growing hard in record time and his thighs wet with slick. The poor thing doesn't even know what to relieve first, his free hand constantly going between stroking his cocks and fingering himself, mind craving the heat of another dragon that he'd been deprived of.

What Price doesn't know is that you're in the same boat, biting your arm to silence yourself as you imagine it's Price you're breeding instead of a pillow, splintering the headboard from how hard you're gripping it in an attempt to not damage the scale.

Then shit hits the fan when during a routine mission you two are ambushed, and while two dragons are no easy prey for mankind, humans have long since gone from using rocks and sticks. You catch sight of a sniper's scope glint seconds before the bullet targets Price, and in only a few seconds to think you throw yourself in the way, Price's scale in your breast pocket puts enough resistance to make you survive the bullet, but you feel it crack, and that. . . that sets you off.

Price doesn't even have the time to lift his gun before you're tearing through the battlefield like a man possessed, anger burning like a volcano in your chest for trying to hurt him, elemental breath and draconic strength unleashed to it's fullest potential.

And Price? Price watches the show with that same heat burning in his belly, forced to bite his lip to silence the pleased purrs as he rubs his thighs together while you tear flesh from bone, mate flashing in his mind. Look how he protects you His mind purrs, Good mate. Perfect mate.

"I'm sorry." You whimper when you've finally calmed down, the battlefield nothing but a ruined crater and the shards of his scale held tenderly in your cupped hands. "I failed, I-"

"Come here." Price cuts you off quickly and pulls you down into a harsh and desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and need. He parts just a fraction of an inch, "You passed." He growls and only then do you notice the sharp arousal in his scent, your animalistic hindbrain jumping for joy as you kiss back because holy shit he considers you worthy.

And now that he's found his mate? You best believe his body is going to make up for all the centuries he'd spent alone.

It doesn't even take a week for him to enter heat, waking in a daze with his twin cocks hard and his thighs glistening with slick, your scent lingering in the sheets and your side of the bed still warm. The walls almost shake from how deeply he growls when he registers that you're not next to him, just enough sense in his head to throw on a towel around his waist before angerly stomping through the halls to find you, sniffing you out like a bloodhoud.

"Bloody muppet." Price growls as he yanks you by the horns back to his room, the scent of his arousal so potent you're struck dumb, letting yourself be pushed down. Price's claws slice through your clothes, his hole so slick and eager for you he doesn't even need to stretch, just jumps onto your lap and in one fluid motion takes one of your cocks to the root. "Fuckin' finally." Price hisses, instantly setting a harsh pace of bouncing on your cock that would have had a lesser race end up with a crushed pelvis.

You grip his hips for dear life, surging up to mark his neck and shoulders with bites as he does the same, his ass clapping against your thighs. "Mate." Price moans, hole clenching around you, his cocks leaking against your stomach. "My mate." He grips your hair and pulls you into a bruising kiss, "Going to last long for me yeah?" He asks, a bit of mockery on his flushed face as he feels you cum inside him, riding you through your orgasm as the sudden onslaught of sensations frazzles the intelligent parts of your brain. "Not going to disappoint me now are you?"

Good thing dragons have really short refractory periods.

"Not a chance." You snarl and flip him over suddenly, rumbling purrs escaping your chest from the surprised sound he makes. You attempt to pin him down and he squirms out of your hold, another bout of wrestling breaking out between you that has you two tumbling off the bed and onto the ground.

"That so whelp?" Price breathes out when you manage to pin him down, your strong hand keeping his face flush with the floor. "Do you really think you can keep up?" A pleased thrill runs down his spine from the sensation of your weight bearing down on him, his knees automatically locking up to hike his ass up, tail flipping up to display his slick hole for you.

"Do you?" You counter, one hand on his head, the other pressing both of your dicks together, your two tips pressing against his ass. "You're so wet and desperate, should have just pinned you down the moment I saw you instead of courting you." With one sharp thrust you push in, a pained and elated moan tearing out of his throat at the sensation of your twin cocks spreading him wider than any toy ever could, scratching that itch he'd had for who knows how long.

The stretch and burn and pleasure muddles his mind, reduces him to low animalistic snarls and growls as he does his best to push his hips into yours. "Hurry the fuck up." Price orders, whole body shaking from the way you set a harsh pace, bashing on his prostate, your balls slapping against his own, each hard thrust pushing and pulling his face across the floor. "I'll- fuck- fall asleep."

"You sure about that?" You push your weight further on him, forcing his wing to spread out, your own partially wrapping around him, "Seems to me like-" A bit of elemental breath leaves your throat when one particularly strong thrust has his hole clamping down on you, his back arching to push his hips as close to yours as one of his cocks spews cum on the floor, "-like you're not in a place to order me around."

"You- ah-fuck-ah- wanker." His insult would be a lot more hurtful if he didn't whine like a bitch in heat, both of you devolving into primitive snarls and growls with the only thought on both of your minds being the need to fill Price with as much of your cum as you physically can.

[onlyswan]

jk releasing 3d on my birthday has been the greatest bday gift ever. ITS BEEN ON REPLAY NONSTOP 😋😋😋😋😋😋🤞🤞

what do you think oc’s thoughts and reactions were when they first listened to it??😭😭😭i need to know, art

summary: in which jungkook is crazy about you, and he sings songs about it.

> idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive / word count: 0.5k

> content/warnings: allusions to phone s*x and well… s*x, finally found the perfect time for oc piercing reveal :P

> in which masterlist!

note: BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LINA BELOVED 💕💕💕you’re a source of light in my life and i’m so grateful for your existence <3 i hope all your wishes come true <333 lol surprise. i got bored this morning so here’s a baby drabble for u 🫶🏼 (i did say i’m taking a break from writing in oct and it’s sept 30 today so…)

—

jungkook pauses 3D at the 3:20 mark before the song can start playing again on loop, and then he looks at you with an excited grin painted on his face.

“so, what do you think?!”

you remain quiet under the weight of his tattooed arm swung around your shoulders, fiddling with his fingers as you always do when you can’t seem to sit still. it’s a contrast to the wide-eyed gasps and bright giggles elicited from you when his sultry singing voice filled all the empty corners of your shared apartment.

“mhmm…? why is my baby quiet all of a sudden?” he chuckles, nose nudging your cheek before he plants a kiss on the soft flesh.

“you were thinking of me?”

your eyes finally meet, and the curious sparkle he sees in yours makes his heart uncontrollably race inside his ribcage.

damn, he’s whipped.

“uh-uh. are you serious?”

you feign innocence, eyes going wider, surprised at his reaction.

“oh, don’t act all cute!” he exclaims, leaning back to watch an amused smile gradually form on your lips. “who else calls me in the middle of rehearsals and whines because they’re feeling needy? at three in the morning! three! huh? tell me!”

“oh my god, shut up! when will you stop bringing that up?!” you lightly punch his thigh, ashamed of your shamelessness when your yearning for your boyfriend reaches an all-time high. now that you’re being spoiled rotten with physical affection, you can no longer fathom how you used to survive it before, being distant from him for months on end. “that’s more you!”

he blinks at you, contemplating for a moment as he combs through his collection of hazy memories. “you mean, during rehearsals or at three in the morning?”

you only raise an eyebrow in response, and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he bursts into a fit of giggles. uh-oh, this is what you must look like when you scold him for being frisky over the phone while you’re out in public, forcing you to bring the brightness of your phone all the way down or to hastily plug in your earphones.

the truth is he wants to kiss you more when you get a little mean, though he refuses to say it out loud because he knows that you won’t ever stop using it against him the same way you purposely wear red when you want to test his self-control.

“alright, so i’m crazy about you, and i even sing songs about it. sue me!”

you intertwine your fingers together, concealing a smile by planting a chaste kiss on the purple heart permanently inked on the back of his hand. “i’d rather touch you.”

at that, his hooded gaze travels down south where your crop top couldn’t reach, watching your stomach unsteadily rise and fall, and the butterfly-shaped jewelry that pierces your belly button seems to flutter its wings with every breath you take.

his teeth tugs at his bottom lip before his tongue sweeps over it, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“would you mind if i touch you first?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

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[girlboypersonthingy]

Hi again, I'm the awkward anon (lol)

So I had this scenario in mind and even though I'm new to this fandom, I haven't found anything similar.

So, reader (gn) is Lucifer's partner and is a fallen angel too, but not as powerful. During the final battle they fight with Adam, and just when he is about to eliminate them, Lucifer arrives and saves them and goes full demon mode.

You're obviously not obligated to write it, and please take your time!! Thank you🥰

AWKWARD ANON, YOU GENIUS 😍 I’m in love with this prompt oh my god. And thank you for being so polite, what a gentleman, what a lady, what a scholar. Enjoyyyy!

Notes: gn!reader, fallen angel!reader, reader has their wings still, reader is sort of a parental figure for Charlie

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing

Lucifer x reader- To the Rescue 🎇

It had been a long, grueling battle so far and watching Sir Pentious disappear into nothing within just a split second brought tears to everyone’s eyes. “Ugh! Razzle, Dazzle!” Charlie summons her fuzzy companions who magically morph into giant, elegantly fierce dragons.

You stood beside the others as you watched Charlie and Vaggie charge forward towards Adam on Razzle and Dazzle, the entire group cheering them on before continuing the battle against the exorcists. Upon seeing Vaggie and Dazzle fall at the hands of Lute, your eyes then land on Charlie next, a cry of worry leaving your mouth as you watch Adam smack Charlie so hard she goes flying into the lights of the hotel sign. “Charlie!” Using your wings, you race to get to her, dodging other angels as you fly. You had no time to waste- sure Charlie is powerful but Adam is quite the equal match. If anything, you worry that he will conquer her if she fights him alone.

The moment you step foot on the roof of the hotel you take a moment to watch as Charlie stabs Adam with her weapon and swings it around, sending him crashing down as she glares at him. “That’s princess of hell to you, pig.” Despite the tense and scary situation, a proud smile grows on your face as you watch her. “I’m here. I’m with you.” Your words grab her attention and she smiles at you before you both raise your weapons up in defense.

“Ah! I see another traitor has come to die, huh?” Adam teases you as he gets back to his feet, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Long time, no see, babe. So this is what you’re up to since you fell? Hm, you seem to fit right in with these idiots.” As she suddenly charges forward, Adam quickly flies out of the way of Charlie’s attack and instead grabs a hold of her weapon, swinging her around by it and knocking her down again, this time tossing her weapon far aside where she couldn’t reach it. Before you could get between them, Adam hits Charlie hard across the face then raises his angelic weapon above her. Sprinting to Charlie’s side, you manage to stop him in his tracks by putting your weapon up against his, a loud clash of metal sounding between you two. After a few moments of struggling against each other, Adam uses so much force that it brings you to your knees and you watch as your weapon begins to bend and buckle under his. Pushing back against him, you manage to make him stumble back for a moment. Tossing your own weapon aside then grabbing a hold of his weapon with your bare hands and not letting go, you panic as you realize there’s no where else to go and no way you’re getting out of this alive. You just have to hold on and push back for as long as you can.

“NO! Adam, please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to kill these people. Please…It’s n-not too late-“

Within seconds, Adam has you knocked to the ground right beside Charlie with a brutal punch to the face. “You don’t know anything! I know it’s been a while since you were in heaven with us but things have changed, hun.” Weak and exhausted from the fight, you stay down beside Charlie, even reaching over to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You really think these disgusting vermin can change? HAH! You are so stupid. Even more stupid than I thought you were before!” Adam crouches down to get a closer look at your bruised face covered in streams of gold blood.

You saw your chance and took it without hesitation, reaching forward to grab Adam by his clothes and slam him down to the ground. “I’m not stupid, you asshole!” The words come as a guttural scream from you as his back hits the hard ground. As fast as you can, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist as you begin landing blow after blow to his face. After only a few hits, his mask falls off and clatters to the ground beside him. “You’re disgusting! What kind of angel are you?!” And before you can get another punch in, he has you by the throat. His fingers dig in to your skin, his face now matching yours with patches of gold blood staining it. It made you feel somewhat proud to know that you made those marks on him.

You continue swinging on him but to no avail, he just won’t let up on your neck and your chest is starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. Finally, your hands find his, frantic fingers trying to pry his off of you as you gasp for air. “(Y/N)!” Charlie scrambles forward to try and stop Adam with a fierce expression on her face but it only takes him a second to remove one hand from your neck and latch it onto hers with deadly force. With your throat in one hand and Charlie’s throat in the other, Adam squeezes with all his strength, making your vision start to go dark and fuzzy. “A-Adam. P-please…” you squeak out, still trying to get his hand to loosen up. Your wings pop out again, trying to flap and get you away from him but he had such a strong hold on you. You suddenly worry that Charlie’s whines and choking beside you will be the last thing you ever hear.

“This fight was cute and all, but it’s time to die with the rest of them.” He uses his leverage on your neck to pull your face close to his. “Im glad you fell. You didn’t deserve to be up there with someone like me. You’re just a stupid little-“

Without another word, Adam was flung to the side by a hard punch from a suddenly appearing Lucifer. The blow had you swiftly dropping to your feet before Lucifer catches you, kneeling down as he cradles you and Charlie gently. “I’m so sorry I’m late, my darlings.” He looks back and forth between you and Charlie with apologetic and loving eyes. “Are my loves okay?” Charlie nods with a sweet smile towards her father while you give him a smirk and a wink. “Took you long enough.” You teasingly reply as Adam finally crawls his way back to the fight.

“Hmmph! Ugh…how man of you freaks do I have to fight?”

“Oh I’m the only one that matters. See, you messed with my daughter and my partner and now, I am going TO FUCK YOU!” You actually face palm as Charlie steps closer to her dad with an embarrassed look on her face. “It’s ’fuck you up’, dad…” “Wait, what did I say?”

As Luci and Adam fight and soar around in the red sky above you, Lucifer shape shifting and bullying Adam, you notice Charlie running to help Vaggie who was still fighting with Lute. Just as you began running to assist her, Adam hit the entire hotel with an extremely powerful blast, slicing the whole building into two. You trip backwards, thankfully avoiding the huge canyon that had formed in the middle of the hotel. All you can do is watch with fearful eyes as Charlie goes falling down into the deep pit, Lucifer chasing after her with impeccable speed. In just seconds, he catches her and circles around back to check on you.

“I got you.” “Dad, look out!” You flinch as Adam approaches but fortunately, the two demons with you were prepared and countered his attack, Charlie sending Adam crashing down to the hard asphalt. Lucifer then scoops you up and holds you and Charlie up in each of his arms as if you weigh nothing, then he flies all three of you into the air together. You couldn’t help but admire both of their passion, their anger and burning hate for Adam radiating off them. Charlie looks so much like her father and Lucifer looks so protective- both of them with glowing red eyes, horns fully protruded from their heads, tails wild and whipping behind them.

“You come at me and my family?! Don’t forget-“ In the blink of an eye, Lucifer has cautiously set both of you down before rushing to Adam. “You’re in my house, bitch!” Within seconds, Lucifer has reduced Adam to a golden bloody pulp as you watch, arms crossed and a vengeful smile on your face. “Whoa, whoa! Dad!” Charlie grabs her father’s shoulder and gains his attention. “He’s had enough…”

Lucifer complies with his daughter’s pleas and retreats back with you and the rest of the group as Adam crawls forward, whining and bitching about how cool he is and how he started all of mankind and blah blah blah. Lucifer’s hand slips into yours and his other finds Charlie’s hand. Just as you think you’ve heard enough of Adam’s bullshit ranting, he stops very abruptly and falls to the ground to reveal Nifty to be the one who finally took down Adam. Of course the entire group was shocked but relieved nonetheless.

“Oh, damn.” You can’t help but pity Lute as she begs Adam to get up and cries over his slowly dying body. “It’s over.” Charlie spits out as she stands beside a beaten up Vaggie. “Now take your little friends AND GO HOME! Please~” Lucifer growls out.

Lucifer watches as the exorcists retreat before he heads over to bring you and Charlie into a crushingly tight group hug. “I’m so glad my babies are okay. I love you both so much.” “I love you too, dad.” Charlie replies as she smiles, her eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, too, Luci.” He pulls away and sweeps your hair out of your face before letting out a soft sigh. “I can’t ever thank you enough for protecting my little girl.” All you can offer him is a smile and dreamy eyes. “She’s like a daughter to me. She’s our daughter. I love her just as much as you.” And this time, you initiate the group hug, cherishing the feeling of knowing both of them are safe and in your arms.

And Lucifer couldn’t be more happy and proud of his family. He’s so thankful to have both of you in his life now and he feels truly blessed to have you both safe with him again.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Oooo Vox! How about Vox with a unnaturally unlucky SO? And it's always been like that and how they died as well!

(Also calling Vox their lucky charm and how he's the most luck they ever had and needed)

Man Y/N really is unlucky landing Vox as a S/O-

I'M JOKING I LOVE THIS

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Second hand embarrassment for Y/N, Valentino being harmed

Description: ☝️⬆️

Not Y/N accidentally getting placed in Hell because of some unlucky mix up-

When you first told Vox you were unlucky, he didn't really believe you and just thought you were being dramatic

And sure you've had a few bad luck incidents that he's seen but nothing that really stands out to him

It's not until he's in a relationship with you that he realizes you weren't fucking joking around when you said it

You really are unlucky

In just a day you've somehow managed to trip and ruin one of Velvette's outfits and completely disfigure her model

You caught Valentino's wings on fire while trying to make a sandwich and when you went to put it out you made it worse by throwing oil on him

Good

You broke four of Vox's cameras, five of his stage lights and broke his chair all while he was live

And all that doesn't even begin to cover the mayhem you caused just last week

Somehow you keep running into Alastor and that's a whole headache in itself

You stress him out so much that if he had hair it would be white and falling out of his head

But Vox will be damned if you aren't just the most precious thing in his life, you're too adorable to get rid of

No matter how much trouble you are to keep

You're so fucking adorable Vox isn't letting you go

Whenever he starts to feel himself getting irritated with you, he just looks at your apologetic face and melts

"Sorry Vox...I guess I just need to stick closer to my lucky charm next time, huh?"

Fuck he loves you

"Just-get over here and hold still!"

Keeps you in his lap because it's the only way to keep you from causing trouble with your horrible bad luck

Not at all because he loves having you close and because his heart skips a few beats when you lean into him or because you smell so perfect-

"Vox? Your screen is all hot and glitchy...are you alright?"

He's fine, babe

Honestly can't get enough of you and genuinely believes he can keep your unlucky nature at bay if he keeps you with him at all times

You managed to trip and toss a dozen fragile, expensive things into the air???

Don't worry, Vox is scrambling to catch them all in a hilariously cartoonish manner

You got lost and now Alastor is contacting him and telling Vox to come get his curse out of Alastor's hotel??

Vox will be there and won't even start a fight, the hotel has been beaten up enough by you and your bad luck as it is

He's kinda proud of you for that one tho

He can't even be mad, it's so obvious that some supernatural force is out to get you

There's no way you're just naturally this unlucky

And he can't just dump you, no matter what Valentino says, fuck him

If he dumps you then you'll be at the mercy of your unluck and nobody will be around to save you

And Vox wants to be the one who saves you, he wants you to depend on him more than anything else

Whenever he sees the grateful look on your face after he bails you out of trouble he's reminded of how much he loves you all over again

Can't resist the urge to take you into his arms and rub his face screen on you, no he won't put you down

With him around to clean up your messes, maybe he really is your good luck charm

Vox really starts to believe it

But then your bad luck strikes again and his migraine is back

Good luck charm his ass

I REALLY REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE 💗

[stealingyourbones]

Prompt Idea: Danny has plot armor.

To start off, Danny’s whole family knows he’s Phantom, and they had to run from Amity because of the GIW. They wind up in Gotham because that’s the one place that The Government doesn’t really mess with.

The reason behind Danny’s plot armor is that in this world, Danny became incredibly overprotective of his friends and family in order to make sure he doesn’t wind up as Dan, ironically making the chance of that happening much greater than before.

In order to prevent this, Clockwork gives Danny and his family a blessing. It works like this.

Imagine you rolled a dice. To Clockwork, there are now 6+ possible alternate timelines that can ensue. Clockwork’s blessing allows those possible timelines to be restricted to only one or two, all of them good for the Fenton family.

In effect, it was like plot armor. Scarecrow attacks a library with Jazz inside? Oh, looks like her parents need her to pick up Danny early, or she drank too much water and needs to go to the bathroom, which just so happens to have a window just in reach that she can escape from.

Maddy needs to get a job? Well, Jazz’s university needs a new chemistry professor (last one was kidnapped by a rogue) and they’re in a bit of a rush so they’ll skip looking for a teaching certificate. No one cares anyways, it’s Gotham.

Jack needs something to do? Well, besides hunting ghosts, he’d always wanted to open a food truck! With Jazzy making sure nothings contaminated and some (slightly modified) recipes from the Ghost Zone, he can finally chase his dream in a big city with his Phantom Food Vehicle! He wonders what some of those shady men came up to him for, or that odd stout fella in the tux.

(The Phantom Food Truck has become a recent cryptid in Gotham. Except it’s not a cryptid, because everyone’s seen the video of the truck hurtling down the street like it’s chasing down the devil, cop cars and vigilantes alike on its tail. And yet, no one could find it. Not even the Bats. That’s about when everyone gave up. When they learned that you don’t find it, the Phantom Food Truck finds you.)

As for Danny? He’s entirely unaware of this, to focused on keeping his head down. It works, for a while. Before fate came knocking in the form of a wicked smile, as if there solely to ruin his day.

The Joker wasn’t having a good day either. He started out having a jolly old time, joker toxin gassing a small high school, making sure to leave macabre presents for his dear Batsy, and then what happens? This random kid just starts running around, helping students, saving teachers, what’s he gonna do next huh? Save a cat from a tree?

What’s worse, his useless henchmen couldn’t even land a hit on the kid! He swears, Bill doesn’t even seem to be trying.

Whatever, they managed to corner the brat, looked like he was standing in front of some other children. So Joker lines the shot, and he fires.

The gun jams.

Alrighty, he takes one from a random mook, and he shoots again.

The gun jams.

No one’s moving at this point. Where there was once dread and tension in the air, there’s just confusion. So Joker points the gun at a goon, pulls the trigger, the shot goes off.

He turns back to the Robin-ish looking twink, and he pulls the trigger.

The gun jams.

And as he starts walking towards the kid to just kill it himself, he wakes up in the Arkham hospital wing with his last memory of the encounter being him slipping on the glowing green contents of some weird looking thermos that the kid had thrown earlier in the fight. What the FUCK was that.

Clockwork doesn’t even care how pissed the Observers are any more, this is hilarious.

it's to the point of ridiculousness that the Bats have an entire file on Danny and they think he's a meta with a luck ability and nothing else.

[sorcerous-caress]

Faux Innocence | Halsin

[Smut, purity kink, slightly toxic Halsin, Durge reader, nb!reader]

Halsin has developed a false impression of who you are. Despite being a bhaalspawn, you were the picture of purity in his eyes and he let his urges to corrupt you take over.

If someone were to ask Halsin what true purity was, he'd merely point in your direction.

For how could anything else compare to you? How could the petals of a budding spring flower compete with you? Not even the sweet nectar of a honeysuckle rivals the sweetness of your innocence.

Is what he sincerely believed, constantly preached and defended with vigour against any conflicting view or opinion someone had of you.

He might have not gotten to know you much, but from what he has seen and through all the troubles you went through to help him and his grove, to help cure this land from its curse and save a child of nature, he has a solidified view about you.

A maniac? A murder? A bhaalspawn? Halsin will soon believe that the sun was blue rather than these blatant lies. You couldn't hurt a fly if you tried, you were the picture of a meek newborn deer in his eyes.

No matter how many times your companions attempted to tarnish his glass stained picture of you, it would never shatter.

Yet you accepted his advances, his proposition in broad daylight. Halsin was sure of one thing that day, and it's that you might have been even more naive than he thought you were, to allow a man you've barely known to bed you so easily.

It almost felt sinful of him to wait for you in the woods that night. His neglected cock throbbing and aching against his clothes, tip leaking pearly white droplets at the thought of your wide eyed stare and sweet smile when you finally arrived.

He was gentle, he really tried to be as gentle as he could. The most careful and delicate he has been in his entire lifetime, a stark contrast to his wild nature and usual intense sexual experiences.

Speaking slowly, softly. Allowing you space and asking you if you're sure multiple times in an almost condensing way. The man would coo at your endearing enthusiasm as he patted your head, amused by your innocence.

Your companions really don't know you at all huh? Spinning false tales of you allowing a priest of loviatar to whip and inflict pain on you so publicly, claiming you were flirting with the devil women after Wyll. They even had the audacity to imply that blood and gore turn you on!

These thoughts only make him chuckle, he has never heard anything so bizarre in his life before.

Halsin picks you up, you fit perfectly into his big arms. The urge to protect you, keep you in his embrace from this scary world that would devour you at the first sign of weakness. It's a miracle that someone as sweet and innocent as you managed to remain pure for so long.

As much as he wants to push you against the tree, he fears its bark might be too harsh for your delicate skin. He only wishes for your utmost comfort as he trails up your neck. Giving your forehead a tender peck before pressing his lips against yours, his tongue politely and wordlessly asking permission for your lips to part.

The kiss is slow, tender, and drives him crazy. He is using all of his self restraint, burying every depraved perverted instinct of his deep down being so careful not to tighten his grip around you.

You're like a fragile fledgling of a hummingbird that entrusted him with its delicate wings.

He asks permission before removing your clothes, swallowing down his saliva at the idea of finally seeing your naked body.

He interprets your casual nod as a sign of being embarrassed, what a timid shy thing you are. May Silvanus grant his soul mercy and give him strength for he is barely holding back. His cock painfully hard and left ignored for the sake of you.

The night is warm and calm, the perfect atmosphere to slowly strip you down. The moonlight illuminating your breathtaking figure as his large hands glide down your soft body.

You belong in a soft bed with featherly pillows, he thinks, covered in silk and veiled by white lace. Maybe even a nest of wool or cotton, as delicate and as precious as an egg, you deserved the same protection.

When he reached between your legs, his breath stopped for a second. Eyes drinking in your most intimate parts on display for him. How he longed to drink you up, swallow you like honey down his throat.

You deserve a hot wet mouth to grind into each night, both to wake you up in the early morning with his head between your legs, and to put you to sleep late at night with your thighs above his shoulders.

Before he realises it, his lips are already on you. Sucking and licking against your heat with the hunger of a dying man. You tasted like pure ambrosia and he was getting addicted.

Nothing could pull him away from you at that moment, no one could convince him to let go before you had your orgasm. How sweet your moans sounded as he drove his tongue further in, as he sucked and swallowed.

And when you held his hand, when you entangled your fingers with his instead of pulling on his hair, he almost came untouched. This simple innocent act of holding hands while he devoured you on his knees, while he shamelessly let his gluttony take charge, it drove him mad with lust.

That hand could never hold a knife or a dagger, he thought, there is no way these delicate fingers could handle a weapon. They were made to be held, to be kissed and to be pinned down.

The melody of your moans echoed through the night, getting louder as you approached release. Halsin felt a sense of pride when he saw the hints of tears at the corner of your eyes, what an intense experience his simple act must have been for someone as pure as you.

“Halsin…please” you breathlessly said, “I'm close, I'm…”

Your next words, asking his permission to cum, were his last straw.

For your orgasm never came. Halsin pulled his mouth away with a wet pop as his primal urges took over. Picking you up again and bending you against his chest, your legs over his shoulder as he kept you in the air.

“Please bear with me, I deeply apologise for this.” you felt something large prop your entrance, his eyes were glazed over.

He's an awful man, he thinks as he plunges his cock into your wet hole. He couldn't resist, he couldn't control himself, he couldn't not be greedy and selfish against your temptations.

The sudden intense change of position, the sudden insertion and the large cock pumping in and out of you with a trail of precum painting your walls, was more than enough to send you over the edge.

Your previous denied orgasm coming back twice as strong. Halsin kept fucking you through your release, pace never slowing down as you cried in pleasure and and your insides squeezed him fist tight.

Drool slipped from the corner of your lips, pleasure clouding your brain and making everything look hazy. Halsin lapped it up with the look of a hungry wolf about to devour its prey, kissing you again and pushing you down deeper onto his cock.

He wanted to ruin you, to steal your purity so it's his forever, to share his filthy fantasies with you until you're as much of a pervert as he is. To fuck each and every one of your holes, to fill you with his cum and bulge your stomach.

Apology after apology were whispered against your lips between each kiss, his brutal pace sending you into overwhelming sensitivity from your fresh orgasm. You could only hold on to his strong chest as you were used like a flashlight, fucked and made to cum so easily by the arch-druid.

The idea of keeping you on his cock forever stirs something dark inside him, to have you warming his cock each moment of the day. To stretch you out on it and bounce you slowly until you cum yourself to sleep, have you all pretty and ready on his lap to be fucked. He would protect you, he would treasure you and he would show you what's your true purpose.

Instead of having to worry about you each time you went out on these adventures, never taking him with you and coming back covered in blood courtesy to your careless companions no doubt. How could they let someone so meek and innocent even see the sight of blood?

You're crying his name, hugging him closer to you. Moving your hips as much as you can to match his pace. Even now you're indulging this selfish man's desires? Fucking yourself against him so he'd give you his cum faster? You really are a sweet thing aren't you. The most adorable person he has ever met.

He was never one to abuse his authority or power, but something tells him if you were a cute fresh druid in training in the grove, he would've made you his personal assistant since day one. Gave a million excuses and reasons on why it should be him to train you, to hold you and show you the proper positions to cast spells, to give you the permission to visit the arch-druid chambers any time.

But maybe even nature is too brutal for you. The sight of that bloodied brutalised squirrel just above the elevator still confuses him to this day, apparently animals can still be hostile whilst in a safe sanctuary like the grove. At least he fully assumed it was another animal that had taken its life.

And Halsin will make sure you never see that side of nature, only the most soft and cherry picked ascents. Have you tending to the flowers and caring for the baby bunnies. Maybe, feeding the kittens seems much more your style.

Your cries pull him out of his fantasy of what a different life with you could've been. There are tears going down your eyes from the intense pleasure and the most cute hiccups and pleads for him to please fill you with his cum, to please push his cock deeper in.

How could he ever say no? It would be criminal to deny you anything.

Halsin was already on edge for so long, it only takes a couple more kisses against your neck, a touch of your curious fingers against his pointy ears and he's spilling his seed inside you. Marking you with his cum and filling you the brim.

His cock pulses inside you as it empties itself, he keeps it plugging you and not allowing a single drop of his cum to escape.

Looking at your eyes, he wonders what you're thinking about in that pure mind of yours. Completely unaware to the depravity of gore inside, to your wandering thoughts about snapping his neck, to your dark urges for him to choke you with his large fists as he fucks you against the harshest tree.

No, instead he kisses your forehead. Smiling as sweat glistens on his skin, he keeps you on his lap.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 8﹕✦﹕┈・୧

Hawks x f!reader -> Cockwarming

Event Masterlist

a/n: soft hawksie, comfort, slice of life <3, cockwarmin.

there are times your work, your day absolutely drains the fuck out of you. you want nothing more than keigo and to be covered in the duvet of his wings. today you were late from work, reaching home at 10 pm. it was irritating— you were drained and your shoulders were slumped, keigo noticed the lack of ease and effortlessness in your body language and facial expressions in the morning itself. a sudden murmur when he wore his hero jacket, “why don’t you take an off from work sweetie? take my card and spoil yourself a bit mm?” keigo tried, but you dismissed his proposal. “no, im good thanks kei” your smile also seemed forced—

now that you had returned home, keigo came over to you immediately. wearing his grey joggers and a white tee. fuck he didn’t even have to try !! he was so ethereal. the blazing sun had toned down in japan & keigo’s golden tan with it. you walked towards him, hugging him eagerly. a musical chuckle escaped him as his hands groped your back, “aww~ my cute little birb.” he mumbles, leaning back and kissing your lips softly, melting away your stress and worries. “dinner?” he muses, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“mhm, what do we have?” you asked him, nuzzling against his palm when he cupped your face. “mm, whatever you want is what we have. keigo’s kitchen especially catered to his baby girl.” he grinned. you love that he addressed himself as keigo and not ‘hawks’ in front of you.

“some chicken soup.” you hummed, smiling back at him tenderly, through tired eyes.

“gotcha~” he took out his phone to check for outlets and you chuckled, “hey now, wasn’t this keigo’s kitchen?” keigo bit his lip, blushing with a grin. “yes it is, just out sourcing some stuff.” he winked, sounding exactly like the man of your dreams — oh wait, he is.

the dinner came in quick, by the time you were out of the shower, a stray plume caressed your cheek, making you giggle as you paved your way towards the dining area. “dinner is ready missy, sit down.” keigo looked at you, still in the bathrobe and whistled. “oh my~” you blushed and rolled your eyes at his antics, sitting down and having dinner with your husband. things seem so great when you start counting these little moments that life awards you with your man.

once the dinner was finished, where you talked to him about work, he talked about his— well, as much as he could share of course. you got up. flustered at what you’re about to ask. “wanna, cockwarm.” the words came out of your mouth easy. keigo smirked, “mm? want to feel daddy that close huh?” you nodded, blushing and looking down.

you nodded, looking into his eyes because you know he likes it. “yeah, wan’- wan’ to feel you close keigo.” you looked down, fuck his siren gaze with his marked golden eyes made you shiver. “and too tired for the whole sex.” you pouted, while keigo observed you in awe.

“mkay, if my sweet little girl wants that, who the hell am i to deny her demands? don’t want to be a bad daddy to my kid.” he winked, carrying you bridal style, a low purr escaping him when you lean against his chest as he took you to your shared bedroom.

“looks like gotta work you up first mm? how else are you gonna take daddy’s cock?” keigo smirked, oh he had no filter at times… you pouted, quite impatient and wanting to feel stretched & full already. after all these years with you, keigo has become an excellent mind reader. “okay okay~ let me get the lube, mm?” he cooed, pulling the knot of your bath suit and kissing your exposed tits. tugging at your nipples just to check how far he could go with them. they get really sensitive depending upon the time of the month & keigo doesn’t want to hurt his darling.

spreading your legs, pupils dilating in anticipation, keigo lubed up your pretty pussy and groaned when you arched your back at him rubbing your clit. “there she is, there she is.” he hums, spreading your cunt lips and thrusting himself in slowly. you arched your back and whined, gasping at the stretch. “fuck— i can’t.” you moaned when keigo pressed your pelvis, making you feel just how deep he’s reaching.

“that’s it sweetness, that’s it. ssh~ you’re taking it so well.” he crooned, kissing your neck and stilling. your eyes were glossing up. overwhelmed by the smouldering amount of love keigo showers you with. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” he said it like a silent prayer, smiling tenderly at you and leaning beside, adjusting your position & kissing your forehead deeply. “cute. my cute little angel birdie.” he smiled, kissing your eyelids. “let it go for me okay? all your worries, all your stress. because i’d always be here.”

and he’ll always be there for you. <3 you don’t doubt that.

[kinopio-writes]

A/N: Decided to answer these two in one go. Screenshotted, lol. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it like last time. Also, I’m gonna be honest with you, after the last Adam post, I started to find his relationship with Sera and Lute intriguing. They both make an appearance (separately).

I just found out. Apparently, Sera and Emily are sisters (just with huge age gaps)? Well, I never viewed them as actual mother and daughter, but I was leaning more towards motherly-figure Sera. Kept it vague.

Words: 1,404 (not including the bullet points)

Warnings: Swearing (surprisingly not as vulgar as pt.1)

———

More Adam w/ a Child!Reader

• to solidify my statement that Adam wouldn’t just give the child away to someone else—along with the points I said in the previous Adam post—is because he didn’t want to seem incapable and, God forbid, ask for help?

• uh-uh. No way

• also, I don’t really see their first word being “papa”

• because of Adam, the kid cursing as their first word seems pretty on-brand

• not to mention that I don’t think they were with many people other than Adam, Lute, possibly Sera, and maybe his friends, too

• if he even has any

• and this isn’t even slander (when Charlie said, haven’t you had a night of drinking with friends after a rough night, he neither confirmed nor denied it. Not exactly the most reliable proof, but I take whatever I get)

• so, yeah, they were stuck with Adam’s vocabulary, unfortunately

• but for the sake of it, I’ll do “papa” as their first word (“fafa”, actually. You’ll get it when you read it)

Also, uh, heavily focused on Adam. Again. I mean, you can’t really do much with a child!reader in regards to personality, so.

———

Adam sat comfortably on his chair outside his balcony, his hand carrying Adam Jr. while the other was mindlessly plucking at his wings’ loose feathers. He would let them fall onto the floor after collecting a pile of them on his lap, finding that to be the only source of entertainment he could do without his kid crying.

Before he was going to push his feathers off his lap, a gust of wind blew them off for him and they flew over the edge of his balcony. All of his previous feathers slipped through the railing’s gaps as well.

His hand lingered mid-air as he looked up to see Sera land next to him. “Holy shit.” He instantly became more animated, a grin forming on his face as he stood up. “Y’know, I keep forgetting that anyone can just waltz in here.”

“Good evening to you, too, Adam.”

He bit back from replying rudely, instead choosing to place his hand on his hip while he held Adam Jr. closer to him. “Yeah, whatever.”

Sera then went on to dramatically stare down at the scenery above the city of Heaven, hands folded in front of her as Adam waited for her to say something. He got impatient after a few seconds.

“What’s up your ass?”

She turned her head to face him and furrowed her brows. He only rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching downward into a grimace as he slightly turned his head away from the head seraphim. Her attention was instantly directed to the baby in his arms. “Do you mind if I hold it?”

Adam jerked back at the sudden ask. “Uh, weird request…but you do you.” When he didn’t attempt to move, Sera leaned down and took the sleeping child from his secured arms, standing back to her height as she observed their peaceful slumber.

Quite a surprise, frankly. She didn’t think Adam was capable of handling something so fragile as life for more than a day, let alone a whole year.

The feeling of a baby in her arms made her reminisce about the time when Emily was just as little.

“The concept of birth is astonishing…”

“ʼKay…?”

“Having a child is one of God’s greatest blessings...”

“Uh-huh.”

“You must be very proud…”

“Uh, yeah…sure…”

“It even has your wings.”

“Y’know, this is starting to feel a little one-sided right now.”

“What I’m trying to say is—” Sera seemed to have gotten out of her sentimental trance and narrowed her eyes at the man below her, “—you are fortunate to have this child, Adam.” She slowly returned the child to its father and watched as Adam held them back securely in his arms. “Children grow up faster than you think. Spend your time wisely. It’s not as if you’ll get any older yourself.”

“Mhm, yeah, got it.” The seraphim only hardened her gaze. “Okay! Fatherhood is the best thing ever, time is faster than the speed of light blah blah blah.” He swayed his head from side to side to emphasize each word, shoulders slumped. “Sheesh. Don’t have to be so sensitive over a kid that isn’t yours.”

Sera tightly shut her already parted lips and deeply breathed out through her nose, turning her back on the man and pushing the hair that strayed on her face. She didn’t say anything more and simply stared at the view on his balcony again.

Adam only raised a brow at her unusual behavior.

“So, not that I care or anything, or about your weird touchy-feely icky vibes, but you never told me why you’re here, so, if you could just tell me what I need to know and leave, that’ll be really great—”

“Adam.”

“Okay. Fine.” He held up a hand and lifted his shoulders. “Wallow in your melancholic—whatever this is. It totes ruined my vibes. I’mma dip.” Adam flapped his wings to get himself on the railings as the head seraphim watched him gently fly down with his child.

Sera speculated he would most likely come back after ten minutes. That would hopefully be enough time for her to have a composed mind to have a discussion with the first man.

———

“Say, ‘fuck’.”

He was told that it was smart to teach his kid how to start speaking at this age with pictures and shit. Adam, however, went with his method and sat Adam Jr. and himself on the carpet floor, repeatedly saying what he wanted it to say. He’d been like this for half an hour.

“Fafa!”

He blinked.

“That’s not what I fucking wanted you to say, but, close enough.” He shrugged. “Now say, ‘di—”

•••

It was only after Lute came over that he realized what his kid just said.

“Yeah, so my kid just called me his dad. First words,” Adam spoke with drawled-out speech, inspecting his lack of nails. “Pretty dope,” he accentuated the ‘p’ in ‘dope’

“That’s not what we were talking about, Sir.” Lute had her hands on the edge of the table as they both sat on the carpet floor.

“Uh, does it look like I care?” He had his kid on his lap, playing with it by holding its hands in his and making them punch thin air. “ʼSides, we still have a week to finish this shit.”

Lute only deadpanned at her leader going off-topic to talk about his kid but said nothing more, deciding it was best to let him run out of things to say so they could get some work done without interruption.

———

“Yeah, you little piece of shit, slash ʼem!” Adam’s maniacal and obnoxious laughter bounced around his living room space as Adam Jr. punctured the heads of hand-made figures of sinners with their fake angelic spear (he couldn’t get a real one, unfortunately. They’re only obtainable during the extermination).

Lute happened to walk in on the scene. Adam always left his balcony door open. His neighbors, despite being come-and-goers, continually complained about his loud guitar sequences. He always responded with something about how he was being generous and that they should be happy—heck, blessed that they were getting a free concert without having to pay.

He hasn’t had those arguments lately, though.

She observed him sitting on the cardboard-littered floor with his HolyPhone in hand, assumably recording his child slaughtering the wretched sinners.

He had the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his mask.

“Sir, what are you doing?”

“AH!” he released a guttural yell as he snapped his head over to the source of the voice. “Jeez, Lute—what does it look like I’m doing?”

The lieutenant immediately answered, “Playing with your offspring, Sir.”

“I’m not playing! I had tons of cardboard lying around from my fan mail, and throwing them all away’s a bother.” he defensively retorted. “And, ew, don’t call it offspring. It’s Adam Jr. now. Check it.” Adam clumsily messed with his phone, muttering curses until he found the video he was looking for in his endless album of blurry photos. He showed the screen to Lute, not realizing it wasn’t even playing. “This kid will grow up to be such a badass!”

“But it isn’t meant to be an exterminator, Sir.”

“Uh, so what?” He placed his hands on his hips.

Lute missed a beat when countering, “Sera won’t allow it.”

“Pftt, what? No.” Adam refuted with a wave of his hand. “She so would. I have the proof.” He lifted his phone and shook it for emphasis. “And it’s my extermination, so I do whatever the fuck I want.”

Lute turned her head away momentarily before perking back up. “When it grows up eventually, it’s a possibility.”

“Ah, what? I can’t wait that loooong,” he whined, slumping onto the floor. “Bummer. I mean, imagine a tiny cunt-born exorcist! How cool is that? The first in history!”

She nodded. “With it under your wing, I know that it can learn our ways just as quickly as we slaughter those wretched sinners.”

Adam tapped a finger on his chin, face scrunched in thought before he placed his hands on his hips as he kneeled on the floor. “Hmm, yeah.” He spread out his wings, too lazy to stand up on his own two feet. He then plucked Adam Jr. from the floor by their armpits, deciding to bring them along without much thought. “Let’s go pitch the idea to Sera. And let’s get takeout on the way.”

“Right beside you, Sir.”

[minjiquo]

You said hazbin reqjests??!? Someone helping Lucifer preen those huge lovely wings?

Im big into raidoapple atm but whoever is your fav character helping the poor old man! He has such big wings and such short tiny person arms!

Sorry if someone else has asked this lol

I’M STILL ALIVE—so HERE. TAKE IT. EAT IT, BURN IT, SMITE IT just take it off my hands--

Had to send get this out so I could start posting again; minor motivation block after life did its thing.

I read “Just Buisness” by rollingchibi for some inspiration—because got I could not figure out how how depict these two–Alastor had imitated (replayed?) Charlie’s voice so I was like “huh. HMMMMMM.”

Just want to Clarify that’s what that is on pg. 1 & pg. 2

[sapphicteaparty]

there's a poster in the security wing that says "If you remember your password... IT IS TOO SIMPLE!!!" and at first i was like okay cool, just some more flavor text for this area in the game.

except. a little bit later Macaron or someone mentions they need to get Korisca's password but the only way to get it is if she tells them that because she has memorized it. and immediately i thought, huh does that mean her password is weak?? really?

and we don't find out anything else about it and the game just goes on as usual and i pretty much forget about it. until!!! much later we actually find out what her password is:

yes that's right!!! the head of security has the weakest imaginable password!!!!!! how did she even get the job?? i love this game.

[stareaterau]

Chapter 1 episode 3

←Previous episode

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Index

---

Let's see if these two have murdered each other yet

CW: injury, blood, violence

Read below↓

Or AO3

"You're that bird person from the alleyway."

In front of Scar, the familiar stranger stands motionless and quiet, framed by the striated walls of the ravine. Despite having placed their weapon back in its sheath, they still look as if they’re on edge. Their body is tightly wound, their wings held out slightly, in a subtle effort to make their form larger, combating Scar's height. At their side, their taloned hands hang, fidgeting restlessly.

Scar shuffles awkwardly under his piercing gaze, growing more uncomfortable by the second. His reflection stares back at him from the deep, black voids of their eyes. At first, Scar had thought that they were utterly black, but, looking now, he can see the slight edge of brown circling his wide pupils, the bright sun casting an almost purple sheen across their surface. They’re quite pretty, he muses, as he waits for the other's response. He rocks on his heels, grimacing slightly at the deep ache setting into his legs and the soles of his feet.

Growing impatient at the silence, Scar reaches out, tempting fate by waving his hand in front of the bird's face. Nothing. The stranger continues to stare at Scar, unblinking. The only sign of recognition he can decipher is the slightest flicker of his feathers as they bristle at the proximity. Scar huffs, disappointed at his failure to evoke a reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have big, creepy eyes?”

That manages to break him out of his stoic stare. He splutters awkwardly, gawking, an incredulous look crossing his face. He looks away, embarrassed.

“Ah hah! You looked away, I won the staring contest!” Scar grins triumphantly.

“I wasn't- what? I was just processing-” The stranger doesn’t return the disarming gesture, their mouth a thin line. Their arms clank softly against each other as he crosses them. Scar hadn’t gotten a good look at them before. He’d thought that they had just been wearing a long, black undershirt at first, but there’s no mistaking the dark metallic casing and wiring of the robotic prosthetics.

“Imagine the chances we’d ever meet again, huh?” Scar grins wildly, stepping forward with as open a demeanour as he can muster, pretending he’s meeting an old friend. He almost is, in a messed up way.

The stranger doesn’t return this warm gesture either. Instead, he frowns at Scar, a multitude of emotions unsuccessfully masked as they cross his face. His gaze flickers up to meet Scar’s eyes before something scared or sorrowful flashes in him, directing the strangers' eyes to their feet instead. Their expression now hides behind their tangled hair as it falls across his face. He searches for the right words, but they die on his tongue. Shaking his head, he resets his expression, carefully masking any unwanted emotion. Finally, he looks back at Scar with a soft yet concerned smile.

“I- I couldn't- I sorta thought I killed you that night.”

“Oh… OH! I'm like a ghost to you!” Scar raises his hands in a mock scary gesture, making a low ‘ooo’ sound to do his best imitation of one. It would put everyone else’s attempts to shame at the yearly Vindicators' spaceween party, he thinks smugly. He’s sure his attempts to lessen the tension between his evidently awkward company and himself is working. It always works… or it works sometimes at least… Actually, this might be the first time he’s been able to get this far.

Unamused, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “Well not so much anymore- you'd be a pretty bad ghost if I could’ve tackled you that easily.”

“Ah- that's no fair. You have wings… and I don’t have the ability to turn incorporeal, yet.”

“Mm-hm.” The stranger hums, shifting as they drag their taloned feet through the sand, etching grooves in the grainy surface. Scar pauses, racking his brain for a response, desperately not wanting to lose the traction on the conversation he had just gained. If he lets the stranger shut himself off now, he’ll have to do all the work to get him to open up again. Scar doesn’t want the only sounds in this empty desert to be himself and the whistle of wind through sandstone tunnels.

“My name is Scar, by the way.”

The stranger turns his attention back to Scar. Pausing, as if they’re expecting there to be more to that statement. They frown, not looking convinced.

“Is that a nickname, or just an unfortunate coincidence?” They ask, tentatively, like they’re trying to avoid saying something to offend Scar.

“Hah! Wouldn't you like to know!”

That, out of everything, gets a laugh. However, the stranger quickly tries to disguise it behind a fake cough, burying his face in his arm. Scar smirks, satisfied by the other's reaction, ignoring a twinge of pain from the knife wound in his shoulder.

They look back to Scar, a more playful expression creeping its way onto their face. “…Yes, that is the nature of a question.”

Their wings slowly lower back into a more natural position, the muscles relaxing— not muscles, his wings look robotic, too. They’re covered in feathers, but they’re held up and moved by a metal armature where the bone should be. For a second, Scar wonders how much of their body remains untouched by metalwork.

Regardless, Scar just beams at him, revelling in his ability to make them laugh. Happy with his ability to lessen their agitation, he makes no indication of wanting to answer the question.

The stranger chuckles awkwardly at the silence and shrugs.

“Heh… well, my name's Grian.”

“Oh! That name really suits you.”

“Thanks?”

Scar watches as they pick up their helmet off the ground, shaking it gently to knock out the sand. They clip the helmet to their belt and turn away from Scar, walking off in the direction Scar had been headed earlier.

“Where are you going?” He calls out at him.

“I- We-” Scar catches the way Grian corrects himself, hoping that means his new friend has decided not to try attacking him again, “-should get moving to somewhere with more cover. It's getting darker.”

“Wh- how could you even tell that? It feels like the whole sky is just the sun.”

To emphasise his point, Scar stands up straighter, turning his gaze to the sky to try and pinpoint the sun within the harsh light. After a moment, he shields his eyes from the glare with his hand. Another moment later, unsuccessful, Scar lowers his gaze. He blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes, trying to lose the blurry afterimage that stays behind and plagues his vision. Grian looks away from Scar, an unreadable, mostly uncomfortable expression on his face. He flexes his wings, shaking his feathers out, then strides away.

Scar realises he’s falling behind. He catches up hastily, coughing up an air of responsibility to match Grian’s. They are a ‘we’ after all.

Scar is honestly glad for Grian's company. He provides a familiar face, even if he is a familiar face he met only briefly… and a familiar face that promptly tried to kill him upon reuniting. At least Scar doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be serious around him— Grian has that handled for the both of them. Although, Scar is certainly going to do his best to break through the birds' cold facade. “So, are we heading in any particular direction?”

Grian shakes his head, before realizing he should elaborate.

“I can fly up and scout out a direction later, but not now. Right now, I'd like to find a spot to rest.”

He stretches his wings out fully, the feathers bristling as the hinges make a soft rattling whine. Scar marvels at the impressive wingspan. He’s never seen wings quite this big before.

“You were flying a lot?” Scar watches them, intrigued. They don’t look like elytra, despite their metal parts, and Grian has far more control over them than even an experienced user. Elytra also don’t tend to come feathered like his— his look jarringly realistic. Maybe he’s an avian?

Scar’s never actually seen an avian before, though that’s not out of the ordinary. Most people haven’t. Could robotic enhancements be commonplace amongst them? Scar is somewhat familiar with enhancements, they’d even been offered to him once, but he’d declined, opting for the less invasive options. Mechanically enhancing what were once organic wings is the only option Scar can think of that matches Grian’s capabilities. That must be what he is, Scar concludes. Though, he pictured avians being taller.

“Yes,” Grian replies bluntly, his tone changing noticeably at the subject.

“Do you have an enderchest?” Scar inquires instead, searching for topics that aren’t sore spots.

Grian whips his head up to look at Scar, a bewildered expression spreading across his face.

“...What? No.”

“Dang it.” Scar sighs.

“Why would you want an enderchest?” He asks, growing curious after the initial surprise.

“I lost mine. It has some pretty important things in it that I need.” Scar hums, looking down at his scratched leg braces. They’re starting to creak under the strain of walking for so long. If Grian had one, he could use it to access his stuff. He really could do with his cane, or anything that can ease the stress on his braces. Grian follows Scar’s gaze, a particularly strained expression returning to his face. Scar frowns at how he almost looks guilty.

“I know you’re a Vindicator and everything,” Grian makes an effort to maintain the current topic and hide the distaste in his tone as he eyes Scar’s neat, albeit dusty, uniform. Scar isn’t surprised by Grian’s opinion on Vindicators. Grian was wanted by them when they had first met, but he at least has the decency to swap his tone out for a more apologetic one towards the end. “Enderchests aren't as common as you think. It might be a while till you can get to one.”

“...Really?”

“Yup.”

“Do you know where we are, then?” Scar quizzes, taking note of Grian's phrasing.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don't know where we are, or how I got here. You're the first person I've seen.”

Grian looks away, pausing to calculate his answer. His hard-won casual demeanour bleeds back into his previous defensive apathy. “We're in the same boat, I have no idea.”

Scar watches him, sure that Grian is holding something back. There’s something he doesn’t want Scar to know. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Pressing him on it would probably just push the avian further away. The last thing Scar wants to do is push away the only person he’s seen for miles, especially when that person seems to know more than what they let on. He chooses to stay quiet. He’s anxious to avoid agitating the bird further. He still has a weapon, and Scar is rather fond of the idea of not finding himself on the other end of it again.

Silence falls over the two, the only sound coming from their steady footfalls meeting the sandy ground, and the whistle of wind through the caverns. Eventually, his worry about Grian shutting him out completely resurfaces, but he isn’t sure what to say.

“So… got a favourite animal?”

“You have an awful way of being chummy with your would-be murderer.” Grian titters.

“I wouldn't call you that.”

“Still.” he shrugs, unconvinced.

“I don't think you were trying to kill me. At least not the first time.”

Abruptly, Grian stills, his feathers bristling.

“And about today- I'm not dead, and you’re not in the process of killing me, see?” Scar carries on. Grian turns away sharply, but Scar is undeterred.

“You're a pretty unsuccessful murderer, if you are one. I've put myself in more danger on purpose than you’ve put me in on accident.” Scar barks out a laugh, but receives no response. Grian's face hides behind his cheek feathers and hair.

“You don't know me,” Grian replies flatly.

“But I'd like to.”

Scar tilts his head, stepping in front of the bird, trying to get a read on his face. They lock eyes only briefly. Grian’s eyes are wide, his brow furrowed, and his face contorted by a frown.

“Anddd- we have time-” Scar adds more gently, “You said you wanted to rest.”

“What if my kind of rest doesn't involve talking?” Grian retorts, tone still flat, but the slight lilt of amusement is unmistakable.

“Oh, well-”

Scar doesn’t get the chance to finish his thought. A shrill, distorted cry fills the sky above them.

Grian and Scar both turn on the spot, their heads snapping in the direction of the sound. Soaring above them is a colony of three familiar creatures. Bright green eyes lock onto them both.

“Are those-”

“Phantoms.” Grian finishes, his feathers standing on end, fluffing up reflexively.

“What are phantoms doing here?” Scar asks, searching Grian for any indication that he knows what’s going on, but the avian looks just as clueless. Phantoms shouldn’t be here. They are artificially manufactured creatures, used as surveillance drones and protection in big cities, or anywhere where the landowners are wealthy enough to afford them. Scar encountered many during his patrols in the capital of Vindicator territory. They definitely aren’t something you would find in the wilderness, let alone a desolate desert like this one. They don’t even count as wildlife, as they’re more robotic than organic. The last of the desert sun reflects off the metallic plating lining their backs as they twist and glide through the air. The bright lights of their eyes shine, harsh and cold, illuminating Scar and Grian with a green glow in the ever-darkening wasteland.

Grian grabs Scar's elbow and drags him towards the walls of the ravine.

“We need to hide!” He hisses. Scar, not arguing, follows him through the tighter passages of the caverns. Unfortunately, they don’t provide as much cover as they had hoped, the walls still far enough apart for the bat-like creatures to give chase. They dash into a covered tunnel, but they have already been spotted, the phantoms fly lower, circling.

As one of the creatures dives towards the entrance, Grian pushes Scar behind him and backs them both closer to the wall. Scar, taken aback by the sudden protectiveness, can only go along with it in a dumbfounded daze.

“Do you have a weapon on you?” Grian asks, quickly scanning him up and down.

Scar falters. “Uh- no.”

“What kind of Vindicator are you?” Grian raises his voice, pulling an expression somewhere between angry and amused.

“Hey! I didn't decide I wanted to be stranded without weapons- they've been taken.” Scar counters, a comically sad look on his face.

“What?” Genuine surprise plasters across Grian’s features. Another piercing shriek fills the air, interrupting him, as another phantom separates from the group and dives towards them.

Quickly, Grian turns back to face the danger. Spreading his wings out as far as they can go, he presses Scar into the sandy, stone wall. Scar splutters, feathers catching in his mouth. As delighted as he is that Grian is now deciding to protect him, Scar can’t help feeling defenceless as Grian takes their lives into his own hands.

“We are so screwed with one sword between us.” Scar complains hopelessly, pushing the feathers out of his face. The phantom barely misses them, metal slamming into soft rock with a clang, causing sand and debris to rain down over them. The creature flies back to regroup with the other two, hopefully with wounded pride. That is, assuming it’s even capable of feeling pride.

“It's also a gun,” Grian adds.

“It's also a gun!?!” Scar gasps, a plan formulating in his mind. “How!? Show me! A gun is way more useful!”

Utilising the advantage of being held so close to the avian, Scar reaches forward and grabs the sword out of its holster, unnoticed.

“No, that's a bad idea!” Grian cries as Scar ducks, slipping under Grian’s wing and sprinting ahead to the mouth of the cave.

As he raises the blue blade, Grian lets out a shrill yell. He lunges for Scar as the Vindicator inspects the weapon, prodding at the grooves for a button and thumping the hilt against his palm.

Scar clicks a button that looks like a trigger. The knife folds in on itself, clipping in place, and the blue blade shrinks as a portion of its energy is diverted to fill a small bar. That must signify the ammo, Scar hums to himself, pleased at this discovery.

"Don't shoot it!" Grian yells with surprising ferocity, but Scar can’t see an alternative. Grian reaches him, grabbing onto Scar’s injured shoulder. He bites down on his tongue, hard, to avoid flinching. Making use of his military training, he forces himself to push through the throbbing pain.

Grian quickly releases him, hissing in pain himself. Scar doesn’t take the time to find out what hurt the avian, instead scanning the phantoms as they twist in the air, preparing to dive again, excited that their prey has moved into the open. He aims, and fires.

The shot makes contact with a phantom just as it dives towards them, long metal claws spread wide and teeth bared as it shrieks. The bullet burrows into the soft, fleshy material on its lower jaw, embedding itself deep in the phantom's head. The creature's cry dies in its throat, its eyes flickering out. It tumbles to the ground, kicking up dust in front of Grian and Scar. Smoke billows out of the mouth of the creature, the bullet wound smouldering.

Scar hears a quiet “woah” from behind him.

“Ahah! Did you see that??” Scan grins, amazed that he actually hit it on his first try. Scar spins on the spot to face Grian, who blinks at him, mouth agape. Scar twirls the gun in his hand, the remaining blade shrinking as more power is diverted to refill the used ammo.

Grian huffs, regaining his composure, and scowls. “Well, I was looking straight at it, so yeah- and give me that!” He snatches his weapon back from Scar with a grunt.

The other two phantoms dive into the ravine. They move faster and more daringly, learning from the mistake of their fallen friend.

“Oh … oh no.” Scar whispers.

Grian unfolds the weapon, its blade noticeably smaller than its original size, and places it back into its holster. “See, I told you the gun is a bad idea! Ask before you waste someone's bullets!”

This time he makes a point of keeping his hand on its hilt, both to prevent Scar from trying to take it again, and to be ready to fend off the approaching phantoms if they get too close.

“There's only two now- I could just hit them again!” Scar argues, casting a panicked glance at the approaching creatures.

“That was pure luck- without bullets, I don’t have a blade, and without a blade, I'm without a weapon!” A dark tone infects Grian's words as he glares at Scar, who sighs defeatedly.

“Well, what else can we use? There's no other projectiles.” The phantoms scratch at the exit, waiting for either of them to get too close.

“I don't know, be creative with it!” Grian huffs hopelessly, his face taut with frustration.

“I could throw you.” Scar teases, eyeing up the shorter man to emphasize his joke. Grian just stares back at him with a deadpan expression, and Scar giggles to himself. Scar takes a small step towards the exit. Not too far, but it's enough that one of the phantoms spots them separate and focuses on him with a screech.

Grian shoves past Scar, who continues to giggle to himself, and reaches for the only other thing he has on him. Holding his helmet in his hand, he takes a full-bodied swing at the phantom clawing towards him, close enough to scrape against Grian’s arm. Metal cracks against metal as he hits the phantom, hard, and it’s flung back by the force. The creature rolls helplessly through the sand, metal plating creaking under the strain of the new dent. Grian inhales shakily, thankfully unharmed.

Scar lets out an alarmed cry, and Grian looks up in time to see the phantom regain its bearings. It shakes, sand flying off in every direction, and launches itself back into the air with a powerful flap of its wings. It circles a few times before swooping back down towards them, faster this time, its eyes blazing and its jaw wide and unhinged.

Grian panics. He makes an involuntary squawk and launches his helmet right at the injured phantom. The helmet collides with the phantom's head with a sickening crunch, and the phantom falls limply out of the air.

“Aha! I got it!” Grian shouts triumphantly. Scar cheers behind him, just as surprised that it worked.

Their celebrations are horribly timed. The final phantom wails and plummets towards them. They both throw themselves out of the way, only to watch it grab the helmet in its claws and retreat over the ravine walls, out of sight.

“Noooo!” Grian cries out, running hopelessly back into the ravine. He stretches his wing out, readying himself to take off after the phantom, but he hesitates. He decides against it, holding his head in his hands, groaning over the loss of his helmet.

“…. Well …at least it's gone now,” Scar says, walking up beside Grian, hoping to cheer him up a little. Grian just laughs, dejected.

Sighing, he looks up at the sky. The sun has almost entirely disappeared from view now, revealing a dark red sky. Grian yawns, stretching his arms over his head. He flinches as his wounded shoulder is pulled by the movement, and Scar yelps quietly to himself, his hand reaching for his own injured shoulder.

Grian turns to Scar, a tired look on his face. He eyes Scar’s jacket as he rubs at it absent-mindedly, the fabric stained from where Grian had stabbed him. Grian frowns, contemplating his next move.

He walks past Scar, his steps heavy on the sandy ground. Re-entering the cavern, he all but collapses onto the sandy ground. Exhaustion and pain catch up to him as the adrenaline from the fight wears off. Sand billows around him as Grian’s tail drags across the floor, curling around himself. He looks up at Scar, who hasn’t moved, hesitating over what to do while Grian makes himself comfortable.

“...Come here.” Grian instructs him, his expression softening.

“Okay?” Scar replies, and sits himself down next to the bird. Slumping against the wall, he lets out a sigh of relief, glad to finally be off his feet.

Looking at Grian, he expects him to move away, but the avian shuffles closer to him.

“Alright then, take off your jacket.” Grian taps Scar’s arm, directing him.

Scar complies, pulling his shirt over his head at the same time.

“Just your jacket!” Grian squawks, “You don't need-” he fumbles at Scar’s teasing grin.

“It's hot! Besides, it’s a perfect opportunity to show off my awesome pecs.” Scar flexes for added flare. The softness is gone from Grian’s face.

“I just need to get to your shoulder.”

“Oh- what are you doing?”

“Wound dressing, or it's gonna get infected.”

“You have healing supplies?” Scar raises an eyebrow.

Grian fixes Scar with a weird look. Of course he has healing supplies. He always has healing supplies. He was just hoping to save them for himself… Scar doesn’t need to know that, though.

“...Yea… I just- forgot.”

Digging into one of his trouser pockets, Grian pulls out a small box. He pulls open the latch, revealing a small collection of items inside. It’s nothing like the regeneration potions that the Vindicators are equipped with, but Scar recognises some small healing wipes and rolls of dressings.

Grian raises the wipes to clean up the now-dried blood. He inspects the wound— Scar’s lucky his blade didn’t go too deep or hit a bone. It just falls shy of being too wide to go without being stitched up. It still looks nasty though. Grian winces, looking up at Scar with an apologetic look. As gently as he can, he starts to clean the wound.

“Sorry about this… by the way.”

“It's alright.”

Grian carefully cleans and bandages Scar’s wound, while Scar sits and tries to think of jokes and bizarre questions to ask the avian. They never make it past his lips, though— he isn’t sure it’s a good idea when Grian is looking more and more guilty as he works, Grian’s gaze occasionally drifting to the scars covering the right side of his companion’s body. It isn’t hard for him to guess why they’re there. Scar doesn’t want to push Grian too hard on the subject in case he closes off from him again, and it’s awkward enough as it is.

Instead, Scar settles on a different, more genuine approach.

“You know, I forgive you.”

Grian's discomfort is immediate. Scar is close enough to watch as his feathers pin back against his head. The avian avoids Scar’s gaze, instead focusing solely on his wound. He knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“You shouldn't. That's not fair, I barely know you.” He frowns, his hands pausing over Scar’s shoulder.

“I know that! But, well, you looked a lot worse back then,” Scar explains, admiring the brightly coloured feathers covering Grian’s face and ears. He remembers how dull and grimy they looked two and a half years ago.

There’s a waiver in Grian's voice, a lump growing in his throat. “And I left you looking dead-”

“But it was an accident!” Scar corrects.

Grian takes in a sharp breath. Scar watches his tail flicking at his feet.

“What can I do to make you stop bringing it up?” Grian asks quietly, pushing unnecessarily hard against the dressing of Scar’s wound. Scar hisses, and Grian removes his hand immediately as if he had burnt himself.

With a muttered apology, Grian sighs, resigned, finally looking back up at Scar.

“...Okay. If we're gonna be travelling together, I'll make a deal with you.”

Scar sits up straighter, intrigued.

“For almost killing you… twice,” Grian elaborates, “I'll be indebted to you and will protect you until we escape this game.”

“Game?” Scar repeats, confused. Is this a game?

“Urh- trap-” Grian stutters, trying to cover up his choice of words. “I’ll help you get home, off this planet. It mostly- depends on-” he waffles on.

“You won't kill me?” Scar clarifies, briefly dropping the cheerful disposition he had so carefully applied.

“I mean… third time’s the charm-” Grian grins foolishly. He coughs out a laugh when Scar doesn't return the sentiment, instead pulling a concerned expression. “...No, I won't kill you, that was a joke.”

Scar mulls the idea over. He gasps at a realization. “So you’ll be my sidekick?”

“...No.”

“Driver? Sofa?” Scar asks, trying to think of the word.

“Chauffeur, and no.” Grian sits back. “As I was saying- you not bringing up that night again is also part of the deal.” His tone is serious, expression hardened with no hint of amusement. He stares right at Scar, his void-like eyes boring into him. Scar feels like he might get cursed by looking into his eyes for too long.

So naturally, he tests that.

“And you'll let me use your gun?”

“Nope.” Grian replies without hesitation.

“Oh, I mean gun sword.”

“You're pushing it.” Grian acknowledges, glaring at him.

“Okay. okay, deal.”

“Good.”

They shake on it. Long, metal talons meeting worn, gloved hands.

“Can I say one thing about that day?” Scar asks, pulling his hand back.

Grian stares at Scar.

“It's just a little thing.” Scar holds his fingers millimetres apart to emphasize his point.

Grian maintains his steady glare at him. Scar attempts to pull a sad puppy-dog face, earning himself a snort from the avian.

“Fine.” Grian groans, rolling his eyes.

“If it’s any help, I'm glad you look better than you did back then. Cooler, even. Not all beat up and soggy.” Scar says sweetly.

“That doesn't really help at all- for any reason-”

“No, I mean, like- your wings, they look all- fuller? Fluffy.” Scar adds, for lack of a better word. He watches as Grian’s face turns bright red. He doesn’t normally get described as ‘fluffy’.

“I- They're not pin feathers anymore- you mean.” He stammers, completely flustered.

“Oh- pin feathers?” Scar asks, curiously. He’s not too familiar with avian biology.

“It's like a waxy sheath that covers new feathers when they grow-” He cuts himself off, waving his hand as he stops the tangent.

“Anyway! We agreed not to bring it up!" He pouts, annoyed at how quickly he forgot his own rule.

Grian hastily finishes folding all the unused bandages back into their box, leaving a small pile of bloody gauze behind in the sand.

Scar stares at them, blinking slowly as he fends off his own adrenaline crash. Grian looks back at the Vindicator sympathetically.

“So, rest.” He offers.

“Rest.” Scar confirms absently.

“I'll be first watch.”

“You sure?” Scar looks over him. It had been Grian who first brought up the idea of resting, hours ago.

Grian just shrugs in response, turning away. “Yeah, I got this. You're the injured one.”

Not wanting to argue, Scar complies, shuffling down until he's lying across the sand. Grian quietly settles into a more comfortable position too, pulling his wings out in front of him. He runs his talons through the feathers, quickly preening the particularly dishevelled spots.

After a while, Grian peers back over at Scar, who is quietly snoring. He fell asleep remarkably quickly. His jacket is rolled up as a pillow— it doesn’t look particularly comfortable, but it’s not like they have any alternatives. Grian watches and waits, double-checking that Scar is fully asleep, slowly making noise with his feathered tail to test him.

Once he’s confident he won’t wake Scar, he turns his back to him and pulls back out his healing supplies.

Cautiously, he slips his sleeve over his shoulder, unbuckling his armour slightly. He gets as good of a look at his shoulder as he can. Blood clots the thick fabric, but thankfully, it must have helped to temporarily bandage the wound, preventing most of it from bleeding through. Not that it would have been easy to spot on the red fabric if it had. Grian winces as he tugs on the dried blood slightly. The wound looks exactly like Scar’s, albeit with more congealed blood. It was a good idea to get a closer look at Scar's injury, he thinks. This confirms his suspicions.

He sighs, reaching for the wipes and dressing, tending to his own hidden wounds until he can clip his armour back in place, the bandages hidden underneath. He frequently checks Scar’s status, who lies completely still, fast asleep.

He leans back against the walls of the cavern, wrapping his wings around himself for comfort. It’s not freezing temperatures, but the air has definitely cooled significantly since the sun dipped below the horizon. Even now the sky refuses to turn fully black, a soft orange glow shining from where the sun had disappeared, basking the world in a reddish hue.

His gaze falls on the sad, broken remains of the phantoms from earlier. He’s got a feeling they’re not going to be the only challenge put in place for them here. He’ll wake Scar up in an hour or so, so he can get his own opportunity to sleep through the rest of this short night.

For now, he sits, and watches.