darkdemeter

[darkdemeter]

Strife's got you covered

[darkdemeter]

yeeeeeeeeey~

AC!Death i guess idk i like it but I aint finishing it thats for sure lol

[darkdemeter]

Crying

Laying on the floor

Devastated and denied a fantastic piece of art to nom on viciously

R I P

…

*proceeds to nom on sketch anyway*

AC!Death i guess idk i like it but I aint finishing it thats for sure lol

[darkdemeter]

Death: *storming in* Where is she!?

Strife: You mean Baby!? I don't know!

Death: WHERE IS SHE!? *turns away from Strife*

Strife: Pfft-!

[darkdemeter]

A FERAL IN THE DARK

hc based: .ᐟ very rare is it that he loses that discipline and goes absolutely feral to have you

Death was always a well versed and disciplined lover. Everything he'd do was with a single, pleasurable purpose, no matter how tedious his teasing would become.

Every stroke, every gesture and flick, every bite and kiss in the room's darkness had meaning, a purpose behind it.

But not this time.

As per your relationship's agreement, the room was void of all light to conceal the one part of himself he refuses to let you see. It's not that it bothers you so much, at least not mostly, you have a bit of a thing for the whole animosity of it all; what it was that resided beneath the mask. But you feel like you lack in knowing Death truly.

And maybe that's how he wants it to remain. To forever be the shadow cast upon the wall that hovers above you, intimately driving his hips into you with the husky grace of his groans filling your senses as you grip the sheets tightly.

Death is not the one you would expect to be between your legs, no less in this predicament, in this current state of mind...

Before you'd known it had happened, he was on you like a dog with his bone.

Death was often a disciplined and restrained lover, holding back most of his own strength that you mistook for only his physical prowess. You never expected that madness... insanity... would be set upon you.

Your moans dissipate into shortened huffs. Gasps. Whines that choke in the gullet, hitch in the lungs. You're staring at what you presume to be the ceiling but it's just so dark and the venomous drug of Death's vocals tear you away from a world of reason, a world of sense.

Between your legs he ravishes you. He's got a hold of you tightly. There are no calculative strokes that have you teetering on a broken plea for him to be merciful and less teasing tonight. No, the self patient and torturous play on his end is replaced by the merciless nature of his instincts. Primal. Feral.

You're throbbing, legs quivering and his grip only squeezes around them tighter, the verge of another uncountable climax within reach and he's not letting up. He isn't in his right mind to keep you on that ledge until you're in near tears and begging.

"D-Death-" You gasp and your back arches sharply at the prick of his fangs poised at the apex where you are most sensitive.

He speaks in a tongue you can't comprehend. A language unknown and forbidden to your curiosity. All you do know in this moment is that you do not deny him.

His sounds are harmonious in his deeply driven lusts, tongue gliding and feeling you shiver and flinch with each pleasuring strike he delivers to your core. The marring of his fangs you thought was over begins in a cycle anew, your inner thighs are riddled with patches of stinging pain that match the same size as his mouth, left behind is a moistened coat of either saliva or blood. Maybe even both.

Still, you feel how your skin pulls taut over your own knuckles with the threat to split and break open from how you clench the sheets into your palms. The prick of your nails is felt between the fabric.

The roughened purr of his throaty pitch akin to a hunting predator elects a pitiful whine from you. His hunger evident in the way he is devouring you, finishing the sweet nectar he harvested with greedy intent.

How can one such as Death be so far gone to the logics of his mind?

He is purely feral now.

"I need to have you. Now."

Death used to be a very disciplined lover but now as you're flipped onto your stomach, back pinned against the cold rippling grave of his gaunt yet muscled body that delivers a chill deep into your bones, you are driven deep into the bed with each thrust he gives of his hips. Each one that follows is more powerful than the last.

His breath comes in ghostly, haunting pants that flow hot through your mind yet hover coldly against your skin. Your gasps and breathless moans grow louder as a symphony to his ears and his hands have your wrists pinned.

There is a feral side to your lover, and it comes every once in a while. So do not mistake him the next time he is endlessly tedious. 

SOME DEATH HEADCANONS

Ayooo, it’s the man himself~

.ᐟ it’s really hard for him to say those three words… though he knows in his heart what he feels, what he tries to bury deep down and cast aside — almost clawing at his chest until it’s nothing but shedded skin and muscle — he knows what he feels. And it scares him

.ᐟ the way he can stare into your eyes with this stern, aware state that is calculating and almost viper-like in nature is beyond amazing and terrifying. Your resolve always weakens when you meet his gaze; yes it is that gut wrenching level of intensity

.ᐟ at first he wants you to see him as the monster he is to scare you away but gradually over time, he becomes scared of letting you see the monster

.ᐟ he is Death - enemies would really think twice before thinking of messing with you. It’s over for any involved who dare try

.ᐟ prefers to have you to himself, in seclusion. He’ll make a home that’s safe for you

.ᐟ enjoys a witty back and forth battle of sass when he’s in the mood for it, but on the off chance he’s in an unsavoury mood… it’s best to watch yourself

.ᐟ he has a patience that is best not tested with

.ᐟ his skin is cold, very well near too cold to touch, but beneath it there is a flow of ever faint heat but it almost thrums in dull pulses; his heartbeat is there yet it is barely heard

.ᐟ Despair is quite the fearsome menace. It takes AGES for this horse to even tolerate you without the firm ire of his rider barking at him to behave himself and to keep him from nipping at you

.ᐟ Dust is more easier to get along with in the beginning, so long as you have some carrion and gentle pats in store, he’ll warm up to you quickly

.ᐟ good luck getting this guy a regular wash schedule. He takes an entire bottle of shampoo and conditioner to get his hair clean of grease and grime

.ᐟ holds you very close and pretty tightly as you sleep. Does he sleep? Nah, ever rarely. He’s gotta make sure you’re protected

+ nsfw bonus +

.ᐟ the mask stays on, there is no “ifs” or “buts”. Only exception is that the lights are out and the cover of darkness conceals his face

.ᐟ a rather slow, sensual lover, wants to take his own time exploring you — the more you tease him the more likely he’s gonna get you back by making you wait

.ᐟ very rare is it that he loses that discipline and goes absolutely feral to have you

.ᐟ oh yes, he is (like his brethren) not lacking in size. It’s ever so slightly curved when erect cough, who said that?

.ᐟ does not like to be in a submissive role. It would take a great deal of intimate trust to allow you to have some kind of dominant power over him; and he has to be aware of it. No surprising him with a sudden burst of courage

.ᐟ is the kind of lover to tease playfully and give praise where it’s due

.ᐟ don’t be fooled by that act that he only gives, he’s secretly obsessed with receiving some special, attentive attention and the husky groans are well worth hearing every time

[darkdemeter]

THIGH RIDING WITH FURY

She's got you on her thigh, hips moving back and forth in a grind that feels oh so insanely pleasurable.

What more is that it's not even the bareness of her skin. Oh no, it's the armour that has you hot and bothered, cheeks burning with a temperamental heat as her hands guide you; not that spurring you on is much needed.

She sees you're an eager little thing, gasping and moaning her name weakly in that pleading whine. Anymore and she might actually call you pathetic... teasingly.

But every drop of those praises is a sweetened taste of lover's honey, intimate and sensual in her own domineering way. Whilst you're falling apart just riding her thigh, she's sitting back like she's lounging on a throne, enjoying the view.

"Aren't you just the dearest thing... riding my leg like this, hm?" She raises a curled finger to raise your bowed chin to get a clearer view of the tears in your eyes. How your pupils are blown so wide that barely any colour remains in them. You ride her thigh faster, pushing more into the armour as you feel yourself pulse and throb in your pants. And dammit, you are soaked. Even through the layers, she can feel it.

She chuckles the sound of a deep, melodic purr. Very well her vocals could be on the verge of a growl...

"Yes, my little human... so good and needy for me~"

SOME FURY HEADCANONS

It is 1 in the A.M what am I d—

.ᐟ Won’t admit she’s jealous, but has a streak of getting over-zealous in a way that demonstrates just how jealous she can get

.ᐟ flirts with you in the most (passive) aggressive way that you can’t tell if she’s threatening or insulting you. (Don’t worry, she learns the more gentle later on the relationship)

.ᐟ lowkey adores it when you run your fingers through her hair and scratch over her scalp…

.ᐟ if you were very close to a near-death experience, she will rush up to you and pull you close, her nose buried into your hair and her lips brushing your hairline as you hear her sigh out heavily. She really through she lost you for a second there…

.ᐟ when Envy kidnaps you, oh ho… is this Horseman SEETHING MAD. You ain’t seen Fury this mad before as she confronts Envy at the Council chamber

.ᐟ she wears sweaters so well. But you didn’t hear that from me…

+ nsfw bonus +

.ᐟ … ahem. Dom—eEUGHHH!!

.ᐟ if you tug on her hair you will see a whole new side of her, she enjoys it so much

.ᐟ she is a giver more than a receiver, but she does appreciate when you give. She secretly needs it though, makes her feel relaxed

.ᐟ ask her about her hollow forms when you’re both about to get frisky. Go on, I dare you 😏

[darkdemeter]

Child Reader CUTE Fluff! Remember the Arena? Where Strife and War have to fight waves of enemies to get stronger and the talisman? S/O is just standing in the audience seats alone and watching them fight. She asked Dis before to help make a sign that says something like You Can Do It Strife/War! Bc she probably doesn’t know how to write, especially in different language. S/O cheers them on and Strife/War felt more motivated. Got this idea from Red Shade from the game, Hades.

GUIDE HER WAY HOME SIDE ADVENTURE: LITTLE ONE IN THEIR CORNER

(platonic) War and Strife x Female Child Reader ・1k words・

There is something truly special about the ring of applause. Compared to the eruptive rhythm of a thousand hands smacking in cheered unison and voices hollering like wild herds of beasts, primal and bloodthirsty, no there is something more inspirational about the singular hum of two tiny palms clapping from the lone stone seats. 

It’s been a long time since Strife found himself in any type of arena. The call of it is refreshed in his mind, fingers impatient to idle on the triggers of Mercy and Redemption, the deliverers of execution. A gory show hyped up for the masses to flaunt the prowess of his abilities, to show just how easily… he can kill just for fun. Only there weren’t hordes of spectators to beckon his victory with their song of praise and cheers. Only you. 

As for War, well… the honourable brother may be just stoic with a sense of morality, a sensibility to the code. A foe unarmed is not an enemy at all. But in the arena anything goes. A playground to satiate the burn of bloodlust in his veins, an event of pure, chaotic fun. So this rush, this is what his brother felt when contained within the contested zone of the arena. How it could be so addicting to simply kill and what’s more, no consequence of having his other arm removed promptly from his person. 

War has never heard the roar of a cheering crowd, nor did he ever. The up-risen cleave of Chaoseater strikes deeply, embedding into the skull of another opponent. His looks were not of great importance, he was an ugly spawn before his brain matter and skull were crudely caved in. 

Another round of claps echoes faintly throughout the arena, almost going unheard but by Strife and War, they heard it. And it was the swell of pride and encouragement they needed to complete the waves, the crush and vanquish every enemy thrown their way. 

“Yaaaay! Go Wawr!” Your voice calls out with a high pitched shout, you jump with every intent to fly high from your place in the audience, arms thrown even higher to reach further than the heavens themselves. “You beat ‘em, Strwife!” 

Strife’s body moves in a swift and cunning spin, easily swirling on his heel after running one of his daggers over the exposed throat of a lunging demon dreg. A decorate splash of blood spurts like a gushing fountain, almost catching the Horseman within its staining vicinity. Thankfully he didn’t get blood on his boots. He plants himself to a halt and salutes two fingers from the helm of his brow, a soft hitched chuckle buried in his throat. 

“Heh, thanks baby!”

“Go go go!” you cheer out with a gleeful yip, your claps seeming to grow louder. 

With a surging force that could flatten mountains, a hellbent resolve that could bend the wills of armies with a singular and powerful strike, War swings his blade from behind him to carve another foe in two with a single blow. Another thick coat of blood splatters the arena grounds and another is felled. Beneath the shadowed cowl of red, War’s lips quirk into a small smile on one side. 

“Ugh, dammit War! You got blood all over my boots!”

By now they have almost reached the end of the wave, so very close to claiming the talisman. Far more eager for their succession you run about, back and forth across the stone platforms arranged like giant steps and at times you make vague gestures that resemble kicking and punching. A very cute sight for the Horsemen to catch out the corner of their eye. 

“Wawr! Strwife!” You bend down to pick something up and hold it high, presenting it for your guardians to see. Their sights turn and their morale are boosted. 

The spirit of invoking their motivation ignites. 

‘You can do it! I baleev believe in you!’ is written on your sign, even more so in a different language. Their hearts are warmed. Their determination refuelled. 

Between an elaborate darting of bullets plugging several enemies at once, Strife soaring, ducking and weaving compared to War who charged and battered down the next roster of enemies with ferocious abandon, he fawned, “Dawwww! Look at her and her adorable sign, she’s totally our number one fan!”

“Nay, she is our sister cheering us on.”

Strife’ golden eyes widen, brimmed with an unfathomable amount of stun and awe. The glimmer could have rivalled the shiny coins in Mammon’s hordes. “You said it and I’m holding you to that, bro!”

More and more they paved the way for their victory through the final wave and they dared to face the impossible, and all by the shouts of your cheers. Merry sounding and uplifting, the Horsemen felt they could do anything. 

And once the final opponent lay dead, the talismen was bestowed upon them as their rightful prize and you came dashing towards them. 

“Heh heh! You did it!” 

“Yes, baby, we did! And we have you to thank for that.” Strife hoists you up into his arms and dances about, some energy remaining to hype him up. Only War could roll his eyes and ignore the shove to his shoulder by Strife though he did offer you an appreciative nod. 

“Your cheers from the sidelines kept us going, little one.” 

“Yeah,” Strife chuckles, holding you up high. A smile hides under his mask, one that he regrets you cannot see. “You’re always in our corner, right kiddo?” 

“Awways!” 

The roar of a maniac crowd entertained by sport and blood is an echo of the past for Strife as he carries you off, one that pales in comparison to the sincerity of your belief in them, that bright and pure spirit that urges them to carry on the fight. And while War may never get to experience that same adoration from a congregation of applauding crowds, only you would be the voice he would hear. 

Their number one fan. Their little sister in their corner. 

[darkdemeter]

Why do you expose me like this....?

Yes.

Yes i’m having fun with him

[darkdemeter]

Y’know, it’s hard to make what they want us to think cause sometimes his hair looks flawless and silky and I gotta wonder which one of ya’ll bathed him to look so damn slay in that next comic panel

And then in other media he looks in dire need of that bath and then I gotta call in a special suds-ops team for this guy 😂

[darkdemeter]

WAIT! I just realized, we never did learn what would happen if Samael met Child S/O’s parents at all! The Horsemen, Vulgrim and Dis, and even Crowfather met her parents but not Samael! If Ettina throwing a spear at Vulgrim was bad enough, she would probably immediately call the Horsemen the second she saw Samael! Guess it’s just another acceptance in their already-crazed filled lifestyle now. On the plus side, Child S/O and her baby brother are in the top list for Samael to protect now.

It's highly unlikely that Samael would actually "meet" reader's parents. His presence would somehow come to be known in a sense, mostly by Ettina.

Fleeting forms in the corner of her vision, a looming presence that lingers over the cots of her children in the shape of a large, winged shadow with hot, red eyes that pulse and yellow teeth that twist into a gnarled grin; a finger raised to his lips to bring the stunned mother to her choked silence.

The Horsemen know, they caught a glimpse of that unforgettable fear merely by looking into her eyes. Her husband believes her, but not once has he seen the shadowed fiend himself.

Samael overlooks as an omniscient force, and he has his ways of keeping tabs on reader without physically needing to be present...

[darkdemeter]

Can you do Strife headcanons? Pleaseeeeeee 🥹🥹 I loved all the other ones

SOME STRIFE HEADCANONS

Yes I can, anon! Hcs for our best guy! *looks down to realise* wait, oh fuuuuuuu-!

.ᐟ He is your ride or die. Simple as that

.ᐟ You are a friends to lovers trope! Maybe a bit of friends with benefits to add a bit of spice~? (If you somehow manage to have an enemies to lovers trope with this guy, please and thank you, give me those juicy records so I can read through them)

.ᐟ Will give you cute nicknames, even if you think some of them are annoying. He also lovingly leans his weight on you, drapes on you like a cat trying to lounge in the sun - does this to be both loving and to be annoying. He knows you can't stay mad at him

.ᐟ He enjoys being a prankster and a huge tease in the relationship, so double brownie points if you can match that energy for him if you're more on the serious side. If being goofy and funny is something that comes naturally for you, the trouble you both will get into... Literal partners in crime

.ᐟ Ruffle hair warfare. Winner still to be determined but so far and due to certain disadvantages, Strife is in the lead (being 8 feet tall comes in handy)

.ᐟ You and Mayhem are two peas in a pod! That horse has charged at you so many times only to skid to a halt before you to just huff at your head and whicker playfully and snort like he played the biggest prank on you. A literal extension of his rider to which you couldn't be more grateful for (Cough, it also doesn't hurt when you watch Strife doing hoof care for Mayhem. Just a thought...)

.ᐟ That doesn't mean he can't get serious himself! He will plug a fat bullet between the eyes and several more for extra taps if so much as anyone messes with you. Super protective of you when shit goes down, you are his top priority - you have to survive

.ᐟ He knows that his scarf is a comfort item for you. If you suffer terribly with being sick, being lonely or having anxiety/panic attacks, he will wrap you in his scarf and watch as you bury your nose deeply into the fabric. It's warm, cozy and weather textured; smelling of him and his wildness but there is something so stilling - grounding about his scent

.ᐟ He LOVES it- omg he- play with his man's hair. You seriously have no idea just how much this man is touch starved but having you scratch his scalp and run your hands through his spiky hair, you'll have him purring contently. But if you tug, you're asking for trouble...

.ᐟ Is the big spoon and generally prefers to be, he likes to make you feel safe but when he's suffering from nightmares that have him thrashing in his sleep, you being there to hold him is what he truly needs. Prepare to basically have the life squeezed out of you but... anything for your loveable gunslinger

.ᐟ Speaking of which, good luck trying to get out of bed with this guy around. He's a space hogger on the bed in the way that either you will be tucked so close to him like the concept of space doesn't exist or contact between the mattress and yourself isn't a thing because he is your bed. Trying to crawl your way to freedom is nigh impossible (especially when he knows you're trying to get out of bed)

.ᐟ Get this man on a dopamine high if you stop him from walking by tugging on his scarf and planting a kiss to his face, masked or not, you'll have this man dizzy, awe struck and feeling giddy

.ᐟ Shower hog. The shower was not made for Nephilim proportions so while he is enjoying all that hot water, you're pouting under his burly form with your arms crossed. Dry. Time to upgrade!

.ᐟ The ultimate king of flirt. If you yourself are a chief in the game of flirtations then buckle up cause this man will leave you flustered and bothered

+ nsfw bonus +

.ᐟ Yep, he does not lack in size - both length and girth, he is p a c k i n g~

.ᐟ Sexual innuendos, intimate and playful touching and some very suggestive positions are just the tip of the foreplay iceberg. Cough he is the fucking menace king of foreplay who said that?

.ᐟ Is the amazing combo of gentle and rough, will go at what suits you and gives you what you need in the moment

.ᐟ He is down to try new things not once but twice! Maybe the first time trying that new kink was just bad timing and found you weren't yet ready to explore such an avenue. He's willing to come back to it if it's something you want to try again

.ᐟ Is a giver and greatly appreciates to be a receiver, makes him feel real good and valued. You'll have this guy purring and howling in pleasure

.ᐟ Dammit he's got a frisky, dirty side and it's hot. But overall, loves to shower you in praise more than anything, is not a fan of the whole "shaming" thing, but he will gladly tease you

.ᐟ Is relatively a dominant but can do some switch ups. Be a bottom dom or if you really want to try, he will give the reigns to you to dom

.ᐟ Is a biter. He marks and claims, hickeys are everywhere he can get them and where you'll accept them. And he can get a bit carried away at times...

.ᐟ Very wild sex hair the next day

.ᐟ If you want sheets that last long make sure they are durable because this guy will shred them to bits otherwise

.ᐟ This man wants to be touched all over and craves it so much when you do, and be sure to praise him too, give him good affirmations please

.ᐟ He takes good care of you- NAY! EXCELLENT CARE OF YOU! Aftercare is a must! And cuddles afterwards, he snuggles into you so much that this is how you end up having to claw your way out from underneath him the next morning

.ᐟ Tug this man's hair during the intimate tango and in his own words, "tug hard." because it tells him just how good he's making you feel

[darkdemeter]

Ballad Of The Mafia (series) - is it back?

After taking a hiatus on Ballad Of The Mafia (which is being rebranded as "Know Your Rhythm") I've been doing a bit of behind the scenes stuff, going back to the drawing board.

I've been quite detached from the Bucky Barnes content for some time but I'm looking to potentially rekindle that spark for the SBBTM storyline. Currently for BOTM/KYT, I've been contemplating whether to continue it as a Bucky Barnes mini series or to instead convert the idea as my icebreaker into the COD fandom.

I'm just having a bit of a difficult time rn grasping Bucky as a mob boss, and feel like I lack a certain flare that others have been able to write so much better than I can for Mafia!Bucky.

I haven't looked to see if there is any Mafia!COD fics, I've been looking at writing some stuff for the fandom for a little bit now but haven't been able to exactly figure out what as an ice-breaker; so maybe this series can be it?

[darkdemeter]

SHE. IS. GODDESS

[darkdemeter]

"The sad man..."

[darkdemeter]

You know, I HC Child S/O’s mother, aka Ettina, learned to use magic from Fury. At least basic spells for self-defense and she uses magic to help out the chores. Wind magic to dry the laundry faster? Fire magic to lit up tough wood for firewood? Earth magic to trap troublemakers like Strife for a timeout? BTW, what meaning does Ettina come from?

Ettina is one of the few humans who showed natural promise to use magic, able to learn and comfort its flow almost to her will right off the bat with a few learning curve balls learned along the way.

She would use these magics taught to her by Fury in cases of self defence and as a means of useful tools. The ways she can now catch Strife before he lands himself into some serious trouble…

As for Ettina’s name, it was honestly the first thing that came to mind and I liked how it sounded when the Horsemen would say it. I think it carries a specific cadence to it that’s gentle and very Eden-ish.

But I did look it up to see if there was anything about the name meaning and this was what I found from 2 sources:

Ettina is a charming name of Hebrew origin, translating to 'little short one' or 'to be forgotten'. Often perceived as cute and endearing, it embodies a sense of familiarity and closeness. While it is not widely used, it has a unique ring to it, making it appealing to modern parents looking for distinctive names.

The name Ettina carries positive connotations of warmth and affection, evoking a sense of comfort and charm.

Your first name of Ettina gives you a clever mind, good business judgment, a sense of responsibility, and an appreciation of the finer things of life.

You are serious-minded and not inclined to make light of things even in little ways, and in your younger years you had more mature interests than others your age.

Home and family mean a great deal to you and it is natural that you should desire the security of a peaceful, settled home environment where you can enjoy the companionship of family and friends.

Whatever you set out to accomplish you do your very best to complete in accordance with what you consider to be right. In the home you assume your responsibilities capably, having the self-confidence to form your own opinions and make your own decisions.

Others can rely on you; once you have given your word you will do your utmost to fulfil a responsibility. However, there is a tendency to be a little too independent in your thinking and it is difficult for you to accept the help of others when you should.

[darkdemeter]

You know, if the Horsemen live with S/O now, eventually, I believe that her family moves out from the hut and, using money they saved up snd lots of supplies, start making a large house to house the rest of the Horsemen and the horses. Sure the Horsemen aren’t always going to be around but it’s the thought that counts. …Fury and Strife totally fight over who gets the bigger room.

Oh yes, there would be plans for a bigger home because the hut is relatively sized for... well, humans. So the Horsemen faced some challenges there until they remade the hut from scratch.

It'd be like a big family project in a way, a home they built together and a place the Horsemen know they can come back to when they can. It'd be a much larger hut and Fury and Strife would fight over who gets the bigger room space.

[darkdemeter]

Child Y/N was told by the Horsemen that if anybody asks her to marry them to tell them no, but her good and pure-hearted personality shines through even then