#Pilot AU

[heavenly-hand]

Happy Holidays from KC Air Lines!

[somewillwin]

Tanthamore commission for @flowerssintheconcrete 🩵🩵

Kofi

[maslosstuff]

Oh that’s hilarious!

A redraw of one of the official images of them:

[supernaturalkickparty]

Clearing out drafts and found this, @fandom-hoarder bestie have we talked about this before?

Thoughts/sambrady

Spn pilot au, Sam's powers started on his birthday, it's been almost 6 months of things randomly being thrown around the room, hearing others thoughts, dreaming of things before they happen, not dealing with it well

Brady of course hasn't been the same the past 2 years. He's not in school anymore. Sam's working, going to school, and trying to help Brady with his drinking/drug problem.

Brady has also taken to hitting Sam and gaslighting Sam.

Sam just accepts it because he really does love Brady and has the "I can fix him" mentality.

Brady encourages Sam to test out his powers and while Sam is getting good at everything he's scared.

He accidentally projects his thoughts/feelings/some images to Dean who's hundreds of miles away

"De I'm scared"

Dean doesn't tell John. He just gets in the car and heads for Palo Alto because that wasn't a dream, it felt too real and in their life/line of work. He knows better than to not go with a gut feeling.

He shows up pilot style blah blah blah and Brady isn't happy like not one bit. Sam tells Brady that they're gonna talk and that he'll be back in a bit.

Brady getting really possessive of Sam now that Dean's in their apartment. They' start arguing/shoving and Sam tries to pull Brady back away from Dean and Brady ends up swinging on Sam and knocks him down.

Dean's in shock because Sam tells Dean it isn't a big deal and apologizes to Brady who is over there faking how sorry he is and Dean's had it. He ends up pulling his gun on Brady and Sam's yelling for him to put it away and Dean won't have it. He tells Sam that he don't have to go home with him but he ain't staying here with Brady anymore.

Sam tries to say it was an accident and it only happens when he don't get out of Bradys way. It's just a thing that happens.

Dean shoots Brady, well clips his shoulder to send a message.

He orders Sam to go pack and he hates himself for a second because he used his "john" voice and the defeat in Sam's eyes makes him feel worse.

He knows Sam hated when their dad ordered them around but it was for their own good and their own safety.

They leave and Dean hopes Sam will go back home with him but he knows it more than likely won't happen.

Sam tells him that Jess was his best friend and that she moved in with her boyfriend and he don't want to impose on them. He can't move back in the dorms, they won't give him that option this late in the the semester, he asks if Dean can stay with him for a few days, just until he can try to find something.

Dean gets them a room, he tells Sam that he's gonna get them something to eat and he'll be back.

He ends up calling John, he debated it for a good 5 minutes before he dialed his number.

He tells John he's in Palo Alto, that he's with Sam and John starts in if Sam's hurt, if he's ok.

Dean don't tell him about the abilities, one problem at a time.

Instead he tells him that Sam called him, that Sam's been going through it, that his boyfriend had been knocking him around and that the boyfriend had drinking and drug problems, money problems, all kinds of problems that he made it all Sam's problems.

Dean was kinda hoping John would have said something right away.

Anything, it could even be him getting mad at Dean for taking off to Palo Alto to get Sam.

"Is he coming home?"

"I don't think so dad...I mean i was thinking staying out here with him for a while. Help him get back in his feet."

[stressed-sock]

i reread pilot au (by the lovely @mawofthemagnetar) today :D

[geckoodles]

I have no art direction yet again so I leave everyone with some more outfits for various Alex AUs/timelines.

[mushiemellows]

Floating Through the Stratosphere Part 2 🛩 (nsfw)

Rating: E. I couldn't resist bumping it up sorry

Words: 30,747

Summary: Thousand Sunny Days Air was a decently sized independent business. Their fleet was large enough to have a few chartered jets at most major airports, but they mostly dealt in private transatlantic trips. A lot of New York to London, with rare hops from LA to Tokyo. Robin didn’t mind, though she always liked it better when the destination was a little more exciting to explore. That is, until she's stuck for two extra nights in Paris with an incorrect room booking and a pilot that seems incapable of wearing proper pants.

Fate, though, has other plans. After Franky's caught in a motorcycle accident, Robin needs to decide if she'll stay the course or alter her route. Healing takes patience, and the amnesia isn't helping.

Content warning for: drunk driving accident, significant hospital stays, surgery, suicidal ideation, alcoholism, and rehab

[doodlingdilemma]

// body horror (at least mild)

Now that that's done

Hello

I welcome you to this 24 hours project of a visualization of a scene from chapter 29 of the Pilot AU written by the very talented MawoftheMagnetar

I love this AU a lot and you will too when you read it on Ao3 and indulge yourself in a riveting story with the Hermits and friends

Anyway I had a lot of fun drawing this

[123pixieaod]

pilot!Max x backpacker!Daniel 👨‍✈️✈️💼

Part 5!

Part 1: Part 4

"Well, when I'm not being hunted by interpol," he says after a beat, the laughter still playing on his lips. "I'm a tattoo artist."

Max's gaze darts down, taking in the lengths of tanned, tattoo skin; dark ink woven onto Daniel.

"Ah," he says after a beat. "Possibly slightly more likely than a teacher."

"Hey, I'm a teacher of life," Daniel says, and then flushes, no doubt hearing how presumption he sounds. Max laughs, cheeks warming.

"A teacher of life? Go on?"

"Well," he shrugs modestly, a mix between proud and bashful. "It is my Instagram username."

"Is it now?" Max asks dryly, watching as Daniel takes out his phone and unlocks it to reveal a wallpaper of bright, blue ocean.

"Yeah, well, something like that," he says, tapping on the screen and then twisting the device around so Max can see. Rows of neat squares great him, patterned in alternative art and lifestyle themes.

Max gaze flickers to the top.

Tattooed.teacher.of.lyf

1747 posts, 915k followers, 1,324 following

"Impressive," Max says, taking the figures in.

Daniel laughs. "What, my misspelling of life? 20 year old me thought he was a genius. Here," he taps on the most recent post, a black and white tattoo. A whale jumping through stars, it's body detailed with feather- like strokes of ink.

"This is the one I did last week," he says, note of pride clear. "Cool, right?"

"Very," Max replies, earnestly clicking to the next photo of a cartoon racecar inked into someone's ankle.

"Maybe one day I could give you a tat," Daniel says. Max's head jerks up, and then he lets out a surprised laugh when he realises Daniel is teasing him.

"I don't think so," he says smoothly. Sebastian would kill him before F1 Wings had a chance to fire him. Professionalism is the first article in the code of conduct they all have to sign. No tattoos is the third article.

"Why?" Daniel cocks his head. "You don't like them?"

"Not on me," Max replies. He's always known his appearance is more akin to an office worker than anything remotely exciting. If people were colours, he'd be a fine beige hue. Tattoos are cool and dynamic and interesting, all things Max is most certainly not.

"I think you'd suit a few tattoos," Daniel continues, gaze turned critical as it runs up and down Max's body. He shivers, trying to resist the urge to cross his arms across his chest.

"You have a wonderfully cool colouring; tattoos would really take to you I think."

"You mean pallor," Max says dryly, but Daniel shakes his head.

"No, I meant what I said. Cool colouring. Opposite of warm. Tattooing you would be like painting on a canvas, the colours would be so beautiful and bright, I can just tell. I mean, look at me," he rolls up his sleeve, revealing tanned skin adorned with ink. "I'm a bitch to tattoo with colours because you constantly have to work out colour theory, and how the inks will show up against my darker complexion. You wouldn't have any of that worry - your colouring is perfect, a tattooist's wet dream."

"Am I really?" Max says with a grin, delighted in the way Daniel's cheeks instantly darken.

"I didn't mean," he blurts out, and then shakes his head. "Well, I mean, I idn't not not mean - The flight."

"The flight, " Max repeats, smiling at how flustered Daniel is.

"How'd you find it?" He asks, clearly desperate to move the conversation on and to ease the burning in his cheeks.

"Good," Max says with a shrug, taking pity on him and letting the topic change. "What about you?"

"Er good, yes, very good. I mean, I pretty much slept the whole time, so that helped. How about you?"

"How about me what?" Max asks, piercing a lump of chicken. It's beyond stupid, but he takes a sprig of pride in the fact the flight was smooth enough for Daniel to sleep, despite the turbulence they went through.

"Did you catch some Zs?" Daniel asks. He tilts his head slightly, as if searching Max's expression for evidence of exhaustion.

Max huffs a soft laugh. "No, not really. I can't really sleep on planes. I think I got about forty-five minutes? But not a lot. It's fine, I'm used to it." Forty-five minutes in the cramped chair as Lando took his seat, listening to Sebastian carefully instructing Lando and knowing it was advice Lando would promptly forgot.

Daniel's eyebrows draw together. "You must be wrecked then, right? As you didn't sleep on the bus either."

Max shrugs. It feels nice to have someone fuss over him, even a stranger like Daniel.

"Not really," he says, piercing another lump of amorphous chicken in the sea of mayo. "Like I said, I'm used to it."

Daniel just scoffs, as if Max has done something particularly impressive. "Wow, if I had gone over 24 hours without sleep, I think I'd be fit to kill."

"Good thing for me you slept on the plane then, right?" Max quips.

Daniel looks at him, and then grins. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

-

When they've moved onto their second coffee, Max can't resist any longer. He has to ask about Lando's overhead announcement.

"So," he broaches the subject. "Had you fallen asleep yet when the first pilot came on the comms?"

Daniel snorts, and Max feels his lips turn upwards reflexively.

"No, and thank fuck I did not get to miss that. The most entertaining thing I've ever witnessed on the plane, and that includes watching the Fast and Furious films in one sitting and watching a toddler drawing with a Sharpie on her sleeping dad's face. I don't think I've ever heard a pilot be more enthusiastic while being so undeprepared. How did he manage to get every detail wrong?"

Max smirks at the memory. The first comms announcement typically fell under his responsibilities as Second Officer. This time, ostensibly as a reward for officially being promoted to Cadet, but in reality simply to prevent Daniel from hearing his voice, he had convinced Sebastian to let Lando do the welcome comms for the first time.

"Come on Seb," he'd said as they all belted. "It's three sentences, how bad can he fuck them up?

Clearly, Max had vastly underestimated Lando's talented for fucking things up.

"He sounded like he was 12 or something," Daniel says, not unkindly. "The woman sitting beside me looked like she was checking whether it was too late to bolt for it when his voice cracked for like the tenth time."

Max laughs. "Considering he also got his am and pm mixed up, the date wrong, and mispronounced about five words, I can't really fault her logic."

Max had been sitting beside him in the cockpit, hissing corrections, which in turn only made Lando panic more and somehow mess up even further. When he'd finally switched off the comms, successfully turning the simple, routine welcoming address Max does on each flight into about ten rambling sentences, Sebastian had looked up from his final checks.

"Let's not do that again, okay?" He had said mildly, and for once Lando had just meekly nodded in agreement, and Max had had to turn to the window to hide his grin.

"Speaking of ages," Daniel says, drawing Max from the memory. "How old are you?"

"Me?" He replies stupidly, as if Daniel could mean anyone else. "Twenty-three."

Daniel's eyebrows shoot up. "No shit. I had you figured to be at least in your mid, if not late, twenties."

Max tries for a teasing smile. "Do I already have so many wrinkles?"

Daniel huffs a laugh, and gratification spools in Max's chest, tighter and tighter.

"Fuck you, you full on know you look like an extra in, like, Baywatch."

"Oh yes, because I am clearly so tanned, " Max deadpans, and Daniel laughs again, his cheeks warming.

"Well, okay, but -"

He's interrupted by a shrill alarm and swears as he taps at his phone.

"Sorry," he mutters, leaving over to rummage through his bag. "Normally I'm fine, but when I'm traveling I have to set alarms to remember to take my meds, or else the jet lag would completely ruin it."

Max watches as Daniel sits up again, a neat medicine box in his hands, the same one Max can remember his grandmother using.

"Health is wealth, as they say," Daniel clips open the section labelled Monday, revealing one circular white pill and one blue tablet.

"Do they?" Max asks, and Daniel shrugs as he scoops them into his palm.

"I keep forgetting English isn't your native language. So this one," he holds up the blue tablet, "is keratin, to ensure these lovely, luscious curls continue being just that while evading the male baldness gene which haunts my paternal line." He pops in his mouth, swallowing it dry. "And this one," he continues, holding up the remaining pill, "is a wonderful combination of various vitamins and minerals to keep me looking young, vibrant and ridiculously attractive."

"And humble as well?" Max asks as Daniel swallows that one dry too.

"Of course," Daniel gives him a grin, finally reaching for his water. "Naturally, Maxy."

Part 6

[rayssion]

au wherein,

Pilot James Potter tries to save his plane from a storm but unfortunately crashes in a deserted island.

Out of 187 on the plane only 9 survived. James himself, flight attendant Remus Lupin, Musician Sirius Black, Sirius Black's younger brother Regulus Black among other collage students Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier, business woman Lily Evans, and two other women on vacation Dorcas Meadows and Marlene McKinnon.

All wounded and in bad shape. Through the next days they attemp to survive relying on instincts and knowledge from the strange depressed kid.

One thing James knows, without Regulus Black they won't stand a chance.

[drunkintergalacticemotions]

It's finally here!!!! It's finally finished!!! The Sky Weighs Heavy Tonight is a phenomenal hermitcraft fanfiction by @mawofthemagnetar that everyone should check out here

I printed it out as a book and designed a cover for it because this story lives incredibly rent free in my mind and I wanted to hold on to it forever

Sometimes however mistakes are made, and as seen below I accidentally ordered it in A4 instead of A5 first, so now I have a normal book sized version and a textbook sized version. For fun I suppose

[slippy-socks]

pilot au. yeah

[hazbincalifornia]

A Little Poke

Summary:

He wanted Blitz. He wanted Blitz more than anyone in Blitz’s life ever had, wanted to pull him open and suck the marrow from his bones, wanted to tear him to shreds and then sew him back together with golden thread. He also wanted a child. He missed his firstborn deeply, that much was obvious, and it didn’t seem like he had much else going on in his life before Blitz came crashing into it. There was a very tantalizing way to combine the two, and when he asked Stolas to meet up in person again, he could practically hear the panties drop from half the ring away, and he grinned.

Warnings: Explicit content, Breeding kink, Implied mpreg, Pilot au, Mutual Babytrapping

Wordcount: 3380

Ao3 link

They had met once, after Blitz had heard of the prince who spoke to the stars and traveled to Earth to take care of business, and he had decided that there was an opportunity there that needed seizing. Yeah, sure, it was a prince, and that meant if he was caught he’d get himself turned inside out and hung as a pulsing art piece on some wall somewhere, but on the other hand, the prince was almost notoriously a weirdo that nobody liked much, and he really seemed like he needed a good dicking. Plan B of fucking him seemed pretty solid, and Ol’ Reliable was always ready under his pants.

Blitz liked those odds.

He’d staked out the palace for about a week leading up to the heist, and had found out a few things:

First, the prince’s daughter had left home, but she didn’t really seem to come back much. It seemed like this was a fairly recent development, because he kept wandering to her room to sit on her bed and look around, or flipped through a photo album that mostly had the two of them as Blitz adjusted the binoculars and watched as the owl’s feathers drooped. (She was alive, though. He did call her once. Or, rather, he'd tried to call her five times, but she'd only picked up for one of them.)

Secondly, the prince’s wife was a massive bitch. Christ on a stick, frankly Blitz didn’t blame the guy for the amount of alcohol that flowed down his long throat. And they didn’t even get to have makeup sex afterward, so he was left to go sulk in the opposite end of the palace from her.

Thirdly, outside of his job or the party he was dragged to one day, the prince didn’t really seem to leave the house much. He spent most of his free time jerking it in his room to books, draping himself dramatically over his little couch-thing and using magic to jerk it or sticking toys inside himself, and watching soaps. (He also talked to himself, a lot. Satan’s balls, he loved the sound of his voice, narrating shit constantly. Then again, it didn’t seem like had anybody else to blab to, since the kid had flown the coop and the wife wasn’t exactly the listening type.)

Fourth, and finally, Blitz found himself caught up in every little detail as the prince sang while scrubbing a loofah over soaked feathers, the syrupy voice sinking into his chest. Listening to the prince talk and hum and serenade himself for a week had wormed something squirming and hot into his gut. The infinitely long legs and dramatic hands, the feathery softness contrasted with the sharp edges of his beak and claws and eyes… pretty, but dangerous. Very, very dangerous.

So, naturally, when he was caught trying to snatch the book, they fucked, and he enjoyed having nine feet of royal splayed underneath him, as well as hearing that voice aimed at him as reality unraveled.

“Oh, oh, darling, take me apart, fuck me inside out and snap my bones, you are everything-”

Magic swirled around them, sinking into Blitz’s skin as surely as red eyes flashing with white pupils pierced his soul. He was intense, he was manic, and the threat snapped as surely as any whip, but the power Blitz had over this glorious royal beast was intoxicating.

Stolas called, over the next few weeks. Multiple times a day, although a few did have to go to voicemail, which was fine because that meant Blitz could replay them over and over again.

They were mostly long, fucking weird rants all about the things he wanted done to him, or he wanted to do to Blitz. He’d started sending pictures too, and Blitz had never regretted the couch-in-the-living-room setup more, because having to sit in the bathtub to jack off for the fifth day in a row was kinda starting to fuck with his back.

There was the question of the book, of course. Stolas had graciously let him keep it in exchange for carrying out the assassinations that were meant to fall on him to perform- really, everybody won this way. Stolas didn’t have to get his hands dirty, the company could go topside, and IMP could consider him a client since he’d offer to drop them some cash for particularly large kills. (He didn’t really bother to count it outside of the number of bundled wads likely fished out of some safe somewhere, so it usually made up for the smaller ones anyway.)

It wasn’t secure enough, though. It wasn’t going to keep everything the way it was now, not when Stolas might get bored or decide it wasn���t worth it. Not when Stolas might tire of raunchy conversations alone, even though there was far more fire in him in the last month of their calls than there had been in any given moment of the week Blitz had been staking him out.

He wanted Blitz. He wanted Blitz more than anyone in Blitz’s life ever had, wanted to pull him open and suck the marrow from his bones, wanted to tear him to shreds and then sew him back together with golden thread.

He also wanted a child. He missed his firstborn deeply, that much was obvious, and it didn’t seem like he had much else going on in his life before Blitz came crashing into it.

There was a very tantalizing way to combine the two, and when he asked Stolas to meet up in person again, he could practically hear the panties drop from half the ring away, and he grinned.

“And then I tear open your rock-hard chest and squeeze your beating heart as you cum so hard you see entire galaxies, soaked and sticky and-“

Blitz’s tail swished as he set the needle against the wrapper, careful to angle it so the gaudy design would hide the hole once it was shifted around a little, then pressed it through, piercing plastic and latex. It was all too easy to let Stolas’s slightly staticky voice from the speaker sink into his brain and imagine the needle was the hot, heavy length he had summoned for when it was his turn to do the fucking.

Pulling it back, Blitz admired his handiwork before tossing it on the pile he’d been planning to bring tonight, dropping his newly free hand to his stomach and giving it a pat.

“You’re going to make daddy very happy if you come home nice and full of owl baby, you got it?” His stomach only gave a little gurgle, but he took it for a yes as he reached for the next condom and readied the needle again with a cheery whistle.

He’d always wanted a big family anyway.

_________

He shimmied up to the balcony- across from the statue in the garden Stolas had of himself, and directly above the table where he’d gotten cake splattered all over and shoved up into his ass after falling into the wife’s tea party. The shocked look on her face before she’d sputtered and tried to swipe at him with her talons had been worth almost as much as the book itself was, even though he’d had to scrub for a while with cheeks pried wide to get all of the frosting out once he’d gotten home.

Anyway. She wasn’t the focus tonight, Stolas- and, hopefully, his filled guts- would be. Blitz hauled himself over the railing, shifting his bag over his shoulder at the closed door. “Stolas!”

“Blitzy!” His voice was slightly muffled, but with a snap of fingers, the handles on the door lit up red and the doors flew wide open to expose the prince who had already laid out on the bed with a rose in his beak and his red robe draped over his shoulders. He narrowed his eyes as he quirked his beak up into a smirk, tail flicking once before settling down as Blitz ventured closer to the bed, then opened his mouth to float the rose over to settle in Blitz’s collar. “Now, to what do I owe the extreme pleasure, darling?”

“I figured that since, y’know, you’re letting us keep the book, I might as well show you how much I appreciate it,” Blitz said, tipping his bag over to let the half-opened box full of condoms spill in front of Stolas like a kicked-over treasure chest, and getting a delighted curl of clawed toes and a slightly squealy hoot to go with it. Bingo.

“Oh, I knew you were a good one, Blitzy,” Stolas practically breathed before reaching forward to snag the back of Blitz’s neck, pulling him down onto the bed- or more specifically, on top of him- and into a kiss. He reached in to grab the rose back and fling it into the air. Petals showered down on them while the kiss deepened, tongues tangling as Blitz allowed himself to sink into the soft-as-fuck feathers and the breath that tasted like mint layered over meat in all the right ways.

Stolas’s hand slid down to squeeze Blitz’s ass, and Blitz returned the favor, tail tangling with the fluffy flesh on his thighs and what little of his feathery butt that he could reach from their awkward position. Stolas didn’t seem to mind, the bit of tail that was brushing his inner thighs pulling a lewd moan from him, and he pulled back from the kiss with a pop.

“I was thinking.”

“Imagine that,” Blitz said, raising an eyebrow, and Stolas gave him a playful swat before rolling over, leaving Blitz pinned underneath him as his long body cast a shadow. His eager mouth seemed to spread across his entire face, tracing a finger down Blitz’s chest and stomach and humming.

“Last time, you were mostly the one fucking me, which was wonderful, but the round where we switched was plenty fun, and I so enjoyed your cute little whimpers. What if we did that again?”

“Hey, they weren’t fucking whimpers!” Blitz protested, but Stolas’s grin just widened.

“They weren’t, hmm?” Another snap of his fingers, and a bubble appeared next to them, with a video of Blitz being plowed directly into the mattress with a glowing gray cock planted deep between his asscheeks and a rather squeaky sound emitting from his body. Blitz smacked Stolas’s ass with his tail even as a flush dotted his cheeks, and got a cackle out of the bird that he smothered in another rough kiss that almost snagged his lip on razor-sharp beak before pulling back.

“You know, I was going to ask for that anyway, but if you’re going to be a fucking smart-ass about it, princey-”

“Oh, I’ll be good! I’ll be very good,” Stolas promised, reaching for the condoms Blitz had brought. He lifted the closest one, sticking it up to his eye as if examining a fancy diamond, then rolling it in his fingers with the index talon pressing against the surface of the wrapper. He dropped his hand into the ruffled-up blanket before turning to look at the rest. “You came expecting to really get your cute little cheeks destroyed, didn’t you?”

“Dabbled with the thought, yeah,” Blitz said. “Plus, since we, y’know, know each other now, you can go in the front if you want. One freshly slicked-up man cave, just for you, one night only.” (It’d be more than one, if he was lucky, but Stolas didn’t have to know that yet.)

Stolas’s head spun around at that, glee lighting up his features and white flames dancing in his eyes. “Really? I can do both?”

“I might even throw in the mouth too if I really like what you do with the place and I think you’ll lay the fuck off without me being able to snap out the big-boy words and just use body signals,” Blitz said, waving a hand. “Impress me.”

“Oh, you’re feeling generous today… I may just have to take advantage,” Stolas purred, twisting a hand as a glow shimmered between his legs. When Blitz glanced down, something long, thick, and particularly spiky in a way that drove chills up his spine was resting between the thighs. “Now, legs open, pet.”

The way the last word was purred drove way more blood to Blitz’s dick and pussy combo than it really should have, but his legs snapped open fast enough to practically snap sparks on the blankets, and Stolas tore the condom wrapper off before rolling it down his cock. A twirl of his wrist summoned a bottle of lube, which he applied generously, and he hummed as he nudged his tip against Blitz’s entrance- which was already dripping. “On three?”

Blitz rolled his eyes. “I'm not a little bitch, just put it in alrEADY-”

Stolas took his words to heart, immediately thrusting forward before Blitz had even finished his sentence and burying half his cock inside with a cry.

“Oh yes, yes, take all of me you greedy little slut, I’m going to turn your pretty little pussy into mulch and then bathe in your blood-”

Blitz’s heels dug into the mattress as Stolas pushed in further, the owl’s hands wrapping around his thighs and digging into the muscle deep enough that spots of black bubbled up from the skin even as the fat cock advanced with spikes tickling the walls like ridges. “F-fuck yeah, just like that-”

“Take it, take all of it.” Stolas snapped his hips further forward, pushing himself in almost to the base as Blitz felt the weight drag against his inner walls. “You’re so good to me, darling, you listen, and you have the cutest little ass and thighs and abs and face that I want to just devour-”

“Do it, take all of me, you horny-ass princey bitch,” Blitz growled out, locking his legs around Stolas’s waist before his tail wound around them to keep them tight. “Take me, claim me, make me yours and keep me.”

All four of Stolas’s eyes bloomed with white in the middle, tiny flames the color of scars. The edges of his feathers shuddered with blood-black and Pride-red as he stared for a moment before slamming forward and closing what little space remained, locking them together with a dual moan as they both only took half a moment to adjust before the thrusting back and forth began.

“You want me to keep you, Blitzy? What about a cage in the basement, or a collar in the corner of this room, always ready for whenever I wanted my precious little pet?”

Blitz shivered, tail twisting tighter around Stolas’s waist before Stolas leaned in close, voice dropping low. “Oh, I have a much better idea. What if I made you gravid?”

“Grav-”

“Round and heavy with child,” Stolas clarified, and Blitz’s tail froze.

He didn’t know, did he?

“Into breeding, then?” he managed, the heel of one hoof digging into Stolas’s back, but it only got a giggle and a narrowing of eyes that edged on that of a kid that had just been handed a knife and a bowl of candy.

“For you, darling? Absolutely.” One hand raised to cup his cheek before giving a pinch. “You would make the most adorable children, and oh, the thought of you fat and swollen with my chicks, oozing milk and cum, constantly crying out for me to fill and fulfill you-” he shuddered, accenting it with another thrust. “You’d be mine, all mine, and I would be all yours.”

At some point, Blitz’s tongue had lolled out, and his pussy was gushing like the acid geysers down in Wrath. Real, real, he could make that real, and right the fuck now. “Fuck, Stolas, fill me up.”

“Oh, you want that, don’t you? You want my owlets, you want this cock to split you open until you’re stuffed with me?”

“Fuck yeah I do, give me all you’ve got, knock me up, get me pregnant.” He could feel the lube easing the way for Stolas’s cock, as well as the latex of the cheapest condom brand he’d could find. Mostly, though, he could feel his brain halfway to getting melted out of his eyeballs because Stolas’s body wasn’t fully in the room with them, the edges bleeding black and ruby into disreality and taking his tail and legs with it. That magic rippling in the air combined with the cock in his pussy had every nerve inside and outside of his skin sparking like nightmare of an electrical extension cord that was powering his apartment building’s entire fifth floor.

Even half-anchored, Stolas’s fingers were like knives, slicing Blitz’s thighs as he thrust with the edges of his form lapping up the blood and singing as they did. Something was chanting ‘mine’, and if it was Stolas, he had a whole choir of the damned playing backup in a way that made Blitz’s soul sing right along with them.

“I want you on this bed where you’ll never fucking leave,” Stolas moaned out, or at least something thereabouts because Blitz’s ears weren’t fully working anymore. He mumbled something that was definitely clever in response moments before the spikes flared out, catching and digging in with a flash of pained ecstasy as his own claws dug through the comforter and his back arched up. “Over and over, always full and fat with child and so very, very fuckable, all mine.”

“You want me?” Blitz managed. Wings of stardust snapped out, an angel of life and death and infinity all at once as all he could focus on were four hypnotizing eyes. When the response came, it hissed down to his very cells.

“Always, my broodmare.”

The orgasm hit Blitz like a mob enforcer in their prime, and Stolas’s followed almost instantly, flooding him with wave after wave after wave after wave of hot, thick cum that burst through the condom and bloated up his stomach, each pulse adding to it- from his regular trim middle to a slight bit of ‘pudge’ to a well and proper cum balloon, heavy and sloshing with every breath.

Blitz collapsed back into the pillows, hearing one rip about a million miles away but physically incapable of giving even half a rat’s ass about it.

Stolas’s form slowly fuzzed back into reality. His feathers were disheveled, flopping out of his coiffed ‘hair’ and over his top eyes.

“Oh, oh Blitzy…” As he pulled back, a flood of jizz came with him, stickying up the sheets even before they could see the broken latex on the end. “That was…”

Blitz held up a finger, pounding on his chest. “One sec…” A wet little burp escaped him, and it tasted salty. When he let his tongue loll out, something white and sticky dripped off the end, and he swiped up a fingerful before wiping it on the bed next to the cum- which it matched. Both of them stared at it for a moment. “You know what, I’m just going to put that down to your weird-as-fuck magic.”

“Fair enough!” Stolas said with a wide smile that twitched slightly on the edges as he lifted the broken condom. “Well, that was unexpected… but it’s too late now!” He kicked the box off the bed. “What do you say we just go in rough and raw for the rest of the night? It’s not like adding them back in would fix anything at this point, after all.”

Blitz glanced at the tampered-with box for only a second before he smirked and wrapped his tail around Stolas’s waist again.

Yeah.

Yeah, this would work just fine.

“Game on.”

[mawofthemagnetar]

There was a lot of stuff I wasn’t able to include in The Sky Weighs Heavy Tonight, because it wasn’t relevant. A lot of things got cut, a lot of things weren’t mentioned. One of those things was that TFC streams on that universe’s version of twitch. While still being, fundamentally, an old man.

Well, this morning I had a burst of inspiration and wrote a little something about exactly that. If you haven’t read Pilot AU, this likely won’t make much sense.

If you have, please enjoy!

“Hello everyone! Welcome back my humble little stream. I hope you’re all doing very well. So, today, I figured we’d play a bit of Block Game, and do some work on my branch mine-hm?”

An alert went off on the stream, and TFC’s mouse clattered against the desk as he minimized his game to look at it. In the facecam window in the corner, he glanced over and smiled.

“MisterMiter77 decided to grace us with a subscription! Thank you! Now, you don’t need to do that- I’m still not sure how to turn those off- but keep in mind, I work for the government, guys. I have a pension. This streaming lark is just for fun!”

A gust of wind rattled the windowpane above TFC’s desk loud enough for the mic to pick it up, and he shook his head.

“Ah, now, a little warning for all of you: the weather’s really bad today, so I might get called out. You all know the drill! If my pager goes off, what do we do?”

TFC grinned as his chat parroted the line.

“That’s right. Remind me to close the damn stream. Now, let’s get to mining, that’s enough wasted time!”

Twenty minutes later, the phone rang. TFC scowled at it, pausing Block Game and picking up the corded phone that sat on his desk next to his computer.

“Hello? Oh, hiya, Frankie. Listen- yeah, I’m still in for the music night. Listen, I’m actually streaming right now. Yeah. The one on the internet, Frankie. Yes. Okay, thanks. See you later.”

TFC hung up, to the welcome sight of his Chat spamming pogchamp emotes. He cackled, leaning in.

“Frankie pog? Yeah, I’d agree. Super nice guy. We’re going fishing next week…”

TFC shook his head, and he and Chat headed deeper into the branch mines. A few tunnels later, and TFC squinted at one chat message.

“Hm? How come I have subscriptions on if I don’t want them on? My nephew set this all up. I said to him, I wanted everything all set up properly, and he got my account to get- subscribers and stuff. And then he ran off to New York and he hasn’t been back to Newfoundland since. There we go, the crying child emotes. Yeah. So, you know, you don’t have to subscr-“

An earsplitting ringing drowned out what TFC was about to say next, and he snatched up his pager, eyes bugging out. This one had a small screen with text scrolling across it, and he leapt to his feet.

“SHIP OFFSHORE SINKING GOTTA GO BYE!” He shouted, clicking a button to close his game and jabbing at something in the corner of his screen-

The pager rang again, even louder, and TFC almost tripped over the charging cable plugging his prosthetic leg into the wall. That cable was the entire reason he’d started streaming at all- if he had to be stuck in a chair for hours, why not have some fun with it?

The pager let out an earsplitting shriek just as TFC got the wire unplugged, and he sprinted out the door.

Leaving chat staring at his white computer room wall.

For the next ten hours.

They only started three cults.

[lincolnlogsnfrogs]

getting too peaceful around here have some pilot dib

[lirhyapetitpain]

C0mmission for AzuurL of his Sam pilot AU design ! I wasn't supposed to make more than the top pic but it was criminal to not draw Azuurl's full design so anyway, enjoy !