#it was so tasty and human and so real

[glitterynebulas]

[nana-glass-chillhop-radio-hour]

Ok sorry I’m long overdue for a follow up of these tags I left on your post lol. Here goes: In my brain, the role of a cop is a very masculine one. Like obviously there are female cops but whenever they appear in media ( at the ones I’ve seen) they always are very masculine. So with Hayward whole thing about performing the role of a standard cop I think he was also performing masculinity in a very standard way. His whole arc in season 2 has also been about learning who he is outside of that performance so he I think he can also start to experiment with gender and get silly with it. I think that’d be good for him. maybe this only makes sense to me but thank you for the space to expand upon me ideas.

This is paige and Hayward season three. my final message

I just saw this response omg loving where you head is at... gotta get this out on the record before s3e3

[outeremissary]

I love it so much when a creature of untouchable ideals gets turned into a Real Person against their will and isn't sure that they want to be one... that's what it's all about!!

[mobbothetrue]

I was the tiger, and no one understood me. Everyone else was domestic. Everyone else knew not of fear.

I was supposed to be domestic. A child’s toy. I was supposed to be tame and docile. I was not. The boy pulled my ears and my tail and was cruel. The father averted his eyes. The mother encouraged it.

The Mother didn’t understand what it meant to be domestic. The mother thought she knew better than anyone else. The mother thought she understood me.

It was the mother who chased me down with a kitchen knife after my claws broke the boys skin. Howling her anger, she pursued me out of the house, but she could not keep up once I ran.

I was the tiger, and no one understood me, but I didn’t understand anyone either. Other animals could speak, I watched them do it with narrowed eyes, but I could not. What had the mother done to me? What had the mother denied me?

I found a shop that smelled like home, and the strange man fed me a pastry. It stuck to my teeth, tasted like cinnamon and marshmallow. I understood him. He understood me. I could not stay, the mother was still looking for me.

I found joy on a beach rich with fish. The mother came to me there, and I swam away. She understood me, then, and threw her knife to the ground. I did not understand her, so I waited in the water until she left. It was warm.

[evilminji]

You know what seriously doesn't get played with enough?

In the grand, shared, doll set of Danny Phantom?

The cultural alienation.

Is Danny up to date on Human Memes? Did he see that movie? Hear about that celebrity drama? He lives here, amongst us, WITH us. But? Feels... half out of the loop.

And? He can't SHARE his passions with us.

Is he REALLY gonna show his new lecture buddy that hot new Kryptonian Sci-fi series he picked up from the Zone's nearest mega market bookstore? Invite a neighbor over for some sparkling ectoplasm laced soda and a binge of this cool Alien animated film from a long dead planet's artist guild? They're trying new mediums, apparently! Danny thinks it's pretty cool, he hopes they make more.

Oh, but maybe he can talk about games!

Except he switched to the technologically far more advanced Z-Held, years ago. They have literally billions of billions of options, since every game maker in their region of the Zone designs for it. Has for millennia.

....music?

Ghost speak either creeps people out or actually hurts to hear, if they listen too long. And "normal" music... feels so FLAT. Emotionless. Yeah, he'll LISTEN... smile and agree it sound nice. But it's... it's so bland? Less then bland.

He can't even share his food! It's a one way trip to ER! If not the morgue. Half his spices are FROM the Zone now. And Zone plants? Heeeeeella poisonous to humans. Tasty af to HIM, but... yeah. No sharing.

So like... what does that LEAVE him? Dance? Hobbies? Sam n Tucker he can share his REAL interests with, but... they went to different colleges. And protecting people isn't a hobby. It's more of a Gotta, you know? He ALSO can't join any space related clubs because now he knows WAY too much about Space.

Like "above civilian clearance, no one on this planet should know that" a lot.

He gets distracted. Too excited. He KNOWS himself.

He would totally ramble on about Space.

He's a Fenton, man. It's genetic.

So... he's lonely. Adrift. A sad, sad, semi-feral noodle of a man. And you know who would never let that stand? Who also wants to know what THE FUCK he's listen too, because it's both giving him a headache and creeping him out? Kon.

This dude reminds him of Tim. Complete with the feral energy and fluffy hair. *snaps pick* lol, bro, is you. ANYWAY, this guy? Apparently the source of the Kent family splitting migraines. That sound has been KILLING them. They need to get this guy better headphones. Aliens gotta stick together, you know? Time to go make friends.

*floats over in his shades n leather jacket* Sup~!

[dirty-c0yot3]

therian tips! (food)

so, I CRAVE raw meat a lot even though I can't eat it :( BUT I have compiled a list of foods that beings with human bodies can't eat (or just prefer not to), but that most animals eat that I could translate to human foods :D

worms = gummy worms :3 if you want them to be slimy like real worms, you could put water or a thin layer of oil on them

little insects = raisins or chia seed pudding (thank you to @puddin-dear 😌)

bigger insects = you could prob eat plain chips, I think it would have the same crunch affect. or chippers! (chocolate covered potato chips)

carrion (dead animal flesh) = jerky or bacon!! (ty @silverfoxboy for the bacon one!)

raw meat = meat sticks (I believe you can get them in beef or turkey) or raw pepperoni (you can get it small bags). suggested by @avocados019, salami :3, and commented by @horse-wisteria 😅 prosciutto (which I honestly forgot was a thing 😭) and multiple beings have said salmon and I keep forgetting about salmon 😭

mice = marshmallow mice (credits to @ink-man-sam )

kibble = cereal (I think most of you know that though) or for something softer- gnocchi! (Suggested by @emberslimehunts )

treats = Scooby snacks!

Snacks:

Go-gurt (if you freeze them, they're really good!)

nut bars, such as Nutri grain or Kind (good protein/energy + tasty)

Chex mix

assorted nuts/trail mix

smoothies!

(I have updated this a lot)

Have fun!

[cosmiclily]

daylight

vi x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

cw: the beginning might be triggering for some people, it has homophobic undertones aannd a man being gross, so be aware!

@caspianalexander007 ‘s request!: I was wondering if you could write a little Vi comfort fic? Maybe she’s hurt from a fight or something and Reader is just absolutely spoiling her - patching her up, drawing her a fancy bath, washing her hair so she doesn’t make the wound worse, tucking her into bed, making her tasty soup, just being like super gentle, warm, and comforting. And at first Vi is like “I’m fine I’m fine” but Reader is just like “I know you’re fine. But I want to do this for you”. And maybe there’s a sweet moment where all the affection and care makes Vi breakdown because she’s always been the fighter, the protector, the warrior - she’s never had someone take care of HER for once and it’s such a relief to just - not HAVE to be the strong one for a while, ya know?

Vi didn’t want to cause any trouble—truly. This time, the busted lip, bruised knuckles, and the nasty cut on her eyebrow weren’t her fault.

The guy at the bar where the two of you had gone together had been a disgusting excuse for a human being. He wouldn’t leave you alone, hovering too close, ignoring every polite (and then not-so-polite) attempt to make him back off. And then, right before the fight broke out, he decided it was a good idea to open his mouth and say that you needed a "real man"—that he could show you what you were "missing."

So, yeah. It really, really wasn’t Vi’s fault when she punched the guy so hard that you heard his cheekbone crack.

The guy barely had time to react before Vi had him on the ground, landing another hit that sent him sprawling. Before his friends could jump in, the bar’s security had stepped in, pulling Vi off him and shoving both of you toward the exit. A few harsh words and a lifetime ban later, you found yourselves out on the street, Vi still flexing her bruised knuckles like she was ready to go back in for round two.

Now, back at your place, Vi sat on the counter, legs spread, arms resting on her thighs as you stood between her knees, carefully dabbing at the cut on her eyebrow with a damp cloth.

"I’m fine," she grumbled, shifting slightly as if she was about to leave. "I can do this myself."

You shot her a look, pressing a little harder than necessary just to make your point. She hissed, flinching back.

"I know you’re fine," you said, voice firm, "but it’s my fault you got hurt. I’m not gonna let you take care of yourself." Your brows furrowed so hard you were probably going to give yourself a headache.

Vi sighed, her hands coming to rest on your waist, more to steady you than to stop you. "It’s not your fault," she muttered, her voice quieter this time. "You heard what he said." Her jaw tightened, her usual tone replaced by something sharper. "I would never just sit there and let some asshole talk to anyone like that—especially not you."

Your hands stilled, the cloth lingering against her skin. There was something about the way she said it, the weight behind her words, that made your heart clench.

"I know," you murmured, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "But I still don’t like seeing you get hurt."

Vi scoffed, smirking up at you. "Please, this?" She gestured to her bruised knuckles and busted lip. "Barely even a scratch."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, yeah. You’re real tough, Vi."

"Damn right." She grinned, squeezing your waist playfully.

"Go take your clothes off” you said, stepping out from between her legs and gently squeezing her tight. "I’m drawing you a bath."

Vi raised an eyebrow. "What, are you my babysitter now? Patching me up, making me shower—what’s next, you gonna feed me too?" She smirked, teasing, but you had already made up your mind.

Soup, something warm and comforting—your way of thanking your knight in shining armor for defending your honor.

"Shut up” you laughed, nudging her lightly. "I just like taking care of you."

Something shifted in Vi’s expression then. For a moment, she looked like she was going to fire back with another joke, but the words never came. Instead, she just blinked up at you, lips parting slightly, like she wasn’t sure what to say.

You didn’t think much of it, just gave her one last playful shove toward the bedroom door. "Go. I’ll have everything ready when you’re done."

Vi hesitated, but eventually, she went, peeling off her jacket as she disappeared into the bedroom. You busied yourself with the bath, letting the water run warm, adding a few drops of something that smelled vaguely of lavender. She’d probably tease you for that, but you didn’t care. She deserved a little softness.

By the time she came back, dressed in some clothes she left at your place with damp hair sticking to her skin, you had a bowl of soup waiting for her on the counter.

She stopped in the doorway, her usual swagger gone, replaced by something hesitant. "You really did make me food…” she muttered, almost disbelieving.

You shrugged. "Of course I did. Now sit and eat before you pass out."

Vi did as she was told, but the second she took her first bite, something in her just… crumbled. She didn’t say anything at first, just stared down at the bowl, jaw clenched tight.

"Vi?" You frowned, stepping closer.

She let out a shaky breath, setting the spoon down before rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her palm. "Shit," she muttered, her voice thick. "Sorry, I just—"

She trailed off, and the hesitation in her voice made your stomach twist.

"What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?" You asked, concern slipping into your tone as you stepped closer.

Vi immediately shook her head. "No, no. It’s the opposite, actually." She let out a humorless laugh, her fingers curling into fists on the counter. "It’s just that... I’m not used to this."

And that’s when it hit you.

Vi had spent her whole life being the strong one. The protector. The fighter. She had taken punch after punch, fought battle after battle, and never once expected anyone to take care of her in return. She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders like it was second nature—because it had to be.

But now? Now she was sitting in your kitchen, wrapped in warmth, eating something made just for her, being cared for without having to fight for it. And it was overwhelming. Too much. And at the same time, exactly what she had needed.

"Vi..." you murmured, stepping behind her. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. She was tense at first, muscles tight like she didn’t know how to accept it, but you didn’t let go. You just held her, grounding her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

"You don’t have to apologize," you whispered against her hair. "You’re allowed to just… let someone take care of you."

She exhaled, a deep, unsteady breath, and after a long pause, she finally melted into you. Her hands came up, gripping your arms like she was afraid you might disappear if she let go.

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice raw, barely more than a breath. "Okay."

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just held her, feeling the way her breathing slowly evened out, the way the tension in her body began to fade.

"You know," you finally murmured, trying to lighten the mood just a little, "I was gonna offer to feed you, but I feel like that might actually make you cry."

Vi let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. "Shut up."

You grinned, pressing a small kiss to the side of her head. "Never."

She sighed, squeezing your arms one last time before finally pulling away just enough to look at you. Her eyes were still red-rimmed, but there was something softer in them now. A quiet sort of gratitude.

"You really are something else" she murmured.

You smirked. "Yeah, well. You’re stuck with me now."

"Good," she said, nudging her forehead against yours. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

──────────────────────

masterlist

[transmutationisms]

@annevbonny yeah so first of all there's the overt framing issue that this whole idea rests on the premise that eliminating fatness is both possible and good, as though like. fat people haven't existed prior to the ~industrial revolution~ lol

more granularly this theory relies on misinterpreting the causes for the link between poverty and fatness (which is real---they are correlated) so that fatness can be configured as a failure of eating choices and urban design, meaning ofc that the 'solution' to this problem is more socially hygienic, monitored, controlled communities where everybody has been properly educated into the proper affective enjoyment of spinach and bike riding, and no one is fat anymore and the labour force lives for longer and generates more value for employers

in truth one of the biggest mediating factors in the poverty-body weight link is food insecurity, because intermittent access to food tends to result in periods of under-nourishment followed by periods of compensatory eating with corresponding weight regain/overshoot (this is typical of weight trajectories in anyone refeeding after a period of starvation or under-eating, for any reason). so this is all to say that the suggestion that fatness is caused by access to 'unhealthy foods' is not only off base but extremely harmful; food insecurity is rampant globally. what people need is consistent access to food, and more of it!

and [loud obvious disclaimer voice] although i absolutely agree that food justice means access to a variety of foods with a variety of nutrient profiles, access to any calories at all is always better than access to none or too few. which is to say, there aren't 'healthy' or 'unhealthy' foods in isolation (all foods can belong in a varied, sufficient diet) and this is a billion times more true when we are talking about people struggling to consume enough calories in the first place.

relatedly, proponents of the 'obesogenic environment' theory often invoke the idea of 'hyperpalatable foods' or 'food addiction'---different ways of saying that people 'overeat' 'junk food' because it's too tasty (often with the bonus techno-conspiricism of "they engineer it that way"). again it's this idea that the problem is people eating the 'wrong' foods, now because the foods themselves are exerting some inexorable chemical pull over them.

this is inane for multiple reasons including the failure to deal with access issues and the fact that people who routinely, reliably eat enough in non-restrictive patterns (between food insecurity and encouragement to deliberately diet/restrict, this is very few people) don't even tend to 'overeat' energy-dense demonised foods in the first place. ie, there is no need to proscribe or limit 'junk food' or 'fast food' or 'empty calories' or whatever nonsense euphemism; again the solution to nutritionally unbalanced diets is to guarantee everyone access to sufficient food and a variety of different foods (and to stop encouraging the sorts of moralising food taboos that make certain foods 'out of bounds' and therefore more likely to provoke a subjective sense of loss of control in the first place lol)

but tbc, when i say "the solution to nutritionally unbalanced diets"---because these certainly can and do exist, particularly (again) amongst people subjected to food insecurity---i am NOT saying "the solution to fatness" because fatness is not something that will ever be eliminated from the human population. and here again we circle back to one of the fundamental fears that animates the 'obesogenic environment' myth, which is that fatness is a medical threat to the race/nation/national future. which is of course blatant biopolitics and is relying on massive assumptions about the health status of fat and thin people that are simply not borne out in the data, and that misinterpret the relationship between fatness and illness (for example, the extent to which weight stigma prevents fat people from receiving medical care, or the role of 'metabolic syndrome' in causing weight gain, rather than the other way around).

people are fat for many reasons, including "their bodies just look like that"; fatness is neither a disease in itself nor inherently indicative of ill health, nor is it eradicable anyway (and fundamentally, while all people should have access to health-protective social and economic conditions, health is not something that people 'owe' to anyone else anyway)

the 'obesogenic environment' is a liberal technocratic fantasy---a world in which fatness is a problem of individual consumption and social engineering, and is to be eliminated by clever policy and personal responsibility. it assumes your health is 1) directly caused and indicated by your weight, 2) something you owe to the capitalist state as part of the bargain that is 'citizenship', and 3) something you can learn to control if only you are properly educated by the medical authorities on the rules of nutrition (and secondarily exercise) science. it's a factual misinterpretation of everything we know about weight, health, diet, and wealth, and it fundamentally serves as a defense of the existing economic order: the problem isn't that capitalism structurally does not provide sufficient access to resources for any but the capitalist class---no, we just need a nicer and more functional capitalism where labourers have a greengrocer in the neighbourhood, because this is a discourse incapable of grappling with the material realities of food production and consumption, and instead reliant on configuring them in terms of affectivity ('food addiction') or knowledge (the idea that food-insecure people need to be more educated about nutrition)

there are some additional aspects here obviously like the idea that exercising more would make people thin (similar issues to the food arguments, physical activity can be great but the reasons people do or don't do it are actually complex and related to things like work schedules and exercise doesn't guarantee thinness in the first place) or fearmongering about 'endocrine disruptors' (real, but are extremely ill-defined as a category and are often just a way to appeal to ideas of 'naturalness' and the vague yet pressing harms of 'chemicals', and which are also not shown to single-handedly 'cause' fatness, a normal state of existence for the human body) but this is most often an argument about food ime.

[koolades-world]

Can you please do headcanons of an MC whose love language is random biting

Like MC and their chosen lover could be cuddling or watching a movie and randomly in MC’s mind they’ll just go “their arm lookin’ real bitable rn” and softly bites them

Can you do everyone please 🙏🙏🙏

hi!!!!! haha of course

enjoy <3

Mc whose love language is biting

Lucifer

it's a jumpscare for him at first

he's always on some elevated level of alertness, and he wasn't expecting it at all

but after he realizes it's just you, he's happy to let you continue

he's a little confused but he's happy if you're happy

Mammon

another brother that's scared the first time

you two were watching a horror movie, so he was already on edge

you already know how that ended haha

but, he really enjoys your little bites, and brags about it a lot to his demon friends who don't know a lot about humans

Levi

he's familiar with the concept because he's chronically online

he turns into a blushing mess every time you do

but don't stop

(he really likes it, but he'd never tell you that directly, but he might indirectly)

Satan

since he was midway through his sentence while reading, he has a moment of buffering

he had to finish reading, mark where he was, then assess the situation

he'll ask several questions about why and what it means

but once he learns that it's because you love him, he won't even stop or question you again <3

Asmo

he just has to ask you: is he tasty haha

of course he is, you don't even need to answer

he thinks you're very cute

as long as you don't do any serious chomps that might do damage, he encourages your adorable expression of your love

Beel

will ask if he can nom you back

he understands you!!

this will become a regular thing

he loves the mischievous face you always make before you decide to bite

Belphie

he doesn't even notice at first

he's half asleep so he only realizes when you make it more obvious

if it makes you happy he won't stop you

just don't wake him up from his nap haha

[pillow-priestess]

If You Know What To Look For

content: dollthoughts, stillness, cozy fluff wish fulfillment

You arrive early to your favorite cafe, several minutes before the agreed time with your date. It's only polite to sit down and reserve a quiet table outside, one with a lovely view over the nearby lake. It'll be her first time coming here, so you'd like to do what you can to prepare nicely!

When she arrives, you notice each other instantly. She greets you with a wide smile that's even prettier than the one on her dating profile! You stand up and exchange a soft hug, laughing it off when she asks if you've been waiting long. The way she tilts her head and grins fills you with warmth.

She sits in the chair across from you, and it's on to pleasant conversation. What you do for work, how you recently moved out, recommendations on what to order here. When you offer to share a favorite tea of yours with her, she happily accepts, and the drinks arrive in no time at all.

It's easy to listen to her. Her voice is clear and focused, even with the mild chatter from other patrons and soft music flowing from within the cafe as a backdrop. Questions and answers flow between you, with the occasional joke that makes you both giggle, and every word feels nice and natural.

As the date goes on, her demeanor slowly shifts, and her gaze seems to pierce you a little more. She asks you about literature, friends, habits. Her eyes follow your cup of tea when you bring it to your lips. She notices every time your posture shifts. A hint of a smirk colors her face.

Eventually, you both refill your tea, and she compliments you on the flavor. You ask if there's anything that could improve it for her, adding that experimenting at home is nice for you. It's been a hobby of yours recently, something you picked up from reading things online. She just smiles and says she'll think about it, and waits for you to take another sip. The moment your cup is back on the table, a single word leaves her lips, one that brings the world around you to a halt.

"Still."

its body locks up, its eyes frozen on the tea in front of it. human thoughts try to race through its head, but they're muffled, suppressed by the trigger it had slowly, naturally gained over the last few months.

the face of the woman across from it breaks into a smug grin.

some part of it tries to deny that this was intentional. it was just a word, meaningless to the average person, there's no way that she meant-

"That's right. Nice and Still for me, doll. It doesn't have to think, it can just listen. It's so very good at that, isn't it?"

it is. it does.

the woman adds some sugar to her tea, leisurely taking her time stirring it in before taking a sip. it stays frozen, the only signs of life to an outside observer being the slow rise and fall of its chest, and the occasional blink of its eyes, locked looking down at its tea.

"Good doll. It's never been noticed like this in real life, has it? It was very good at pretending to be human… but its true nature is all too obvious, if you know what to look for."

she leans forward in her chair, reaching over the table to slowly trace her fingers over the back of its hand.

it would gasp if it could. the touch feels divine.

"It hasn't been a doll for very long, has it? The way it sounded, it likely fell into dollhood… a month or two ago, I'd think. It must have read a story or two that changed the way its brain worked. How long did it take to Become, I wonder?"

her fingers lace with its own, gently squeezing.

"Resume. Look at me."

motion floods back into its body, and it sits up straight, eyes instantly meeting hers. its jaw opens to try and respond, to ask what she's thinking.

"M- …Miss, I- this one-"

"Shh. No words, doll. Just listen."

it obeys.

he finishes her tea, setting the cup down with a satisfied exhale. "This was tasty. It made the right choice, taking me here."

its cheeks flush at the praise, and its hands clench a fold of its dress. she smiles at the tic.

"I can't wait for it to make me more at home."

opening her wallet, she pulls out more than enough cash to pay for the tea, leaving it under her mug. she stands, holding out a hand to the doll.

"Up. Come with me."

it takes her hand, dainty touch matched with a gentle grip as she turns to walk it down to the lakeside. a light breeze is blowing over the surface of the lake, causing ripples that shine and flash in the late morning sun. she leads the doll down a small walking path, gravel crunching beneath her boots and its shoes. soon, there's a nice little bench looking over the water. before it can sit, though,

"Be Still."

it locks up, halfway to taking a seat. her hands take the doll and begin to move it, shifting its form as easily as adjusting a mannequin. she sits it down on the bench, tilting its head up to look at the gentle waves, then folds its hands daintily in its lap.

a few more touches to fix its hair and straighten its dress, and she steps back to admire her handiwork with a smile that makes its silent heart soar. taking a seat next to the doll, she wraps an arm over its shoulders, letting it lean into her ever so slightly without having to break its stillness.

"That's it. Such a good doll for me… Maybe you weren't sure that this was right for you yet, doll. I'm sure you've felt your dollhood reading and experimenting online, but this is the first time you've truly been treated as what you are, what you're meant to be."

she looks at the lake and smiles.

"But I don't think there's any question left, is there. You are a doll. You are a pretty little toy, made to be posed and instructed and appreciated and played with."

she strokes its hair, curling it around a finger like playing with a string. her eyes move back to it, languidly drinking it in.

"And to think, we're both lucky enough that I need a pretty new doll for my collection. And this one is already nice and ready and free for me to take…"

the glimmering sunlight from the lake is reflected in the doll's eyes. it would like to hope that that shine is enough to show its excitement. she takes the doll by the chin, turning its head to face her and finally meet her gaze. there's a hunger in her eyes, something it yearns to satisfy, to let it devour any semblance of personhood it has left.

"Yes. Yes, doll, you'll do just perfect. Resume. And thank me."

motion floods its form again, hands shaking and squeezing at its dress again and again as gratitude bubbles out of its lips. this one thanks its mistress, thanks her so much, she's wonderful, she's divine, this one is so lucky to be her possession, to be part of her beautiful collection forever-

she sweeps it up in a hug, lifting it off the bench and off its feet like it weighs nothing at all, and all of the praise is suppressed for a moment by an adorable 'eep!' she's smiling up at it, a loving, infectious smile that it automatically matches, her adoration filling it with the greatest purpose it's ever known

"That's my good doll! My precious little dolly…"

lowering it to the ground, she steadies its shaky legs with her hands on its hips. she leans in to plant a long, warm kiss on its forehead, and it feels like it could fall apart into warm mushy pieces.

"Now. Let's get you home, dolly. You're going to be just perfect for me~"

<3

[sorcerous-caress]

I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.

A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!

He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!

Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?

Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.

A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?

But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.

Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.

Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.

We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.

Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.

THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.

This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.

I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.

The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.

This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.

also my buckets yk.

One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.

What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.

Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.

There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.

Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!

In a rusty empty food can.

Falling into a bucket with shit stains.

MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥

Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.

Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.

That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.

Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.

[lou-struck]

Made with Love Part 1

Obey Me Brothers and Datables x reader

Part 2 HERE

MASTERLIST !

~After Luke uses a bowl from Solomon's Lab to make some Cookies for the Valentines Day party. Everyone starts acting a bit... Love Drunk.

a/n: I hope you guys like this little Valentine's Day series! If you want to be tagged in part 2 Comment Below!

Introduction:

As the Angel reaches up on his tiptoes to reach an upper kitchen cabinet, Luke's little white beret slips from his white blonde head. The sweet smell of angelic sugar cookies wafts through the air around him from the dozens of batches he has made today. From what he has 'sampled' earlier, he can tell that if he were to wrap them up right now, even Barbatos would have seconds. But he wants to frost and decorate the little heart-shaped cookies with a whipped-cloud icing you like before bringing them to Diavolo's castle for his Valentine's Day celebration.

The party may be small, but it was planned especially with you in mind. 

Although he was up in the Celestial Realm running an errand for Michael, Luke heard all about the little prank that Solomon played on Simeon and the others about some evil, human-world monster called Cupid that was trying to steal you away. 

You were never in any real danger, but he and everyone else agreed that the prank made the day less enjoyable for you. Which is the last thing anyone wanted. 

Meetings were held, contracts were signed, and it was agreed that for this Valentine's Day, there would be no funny business. 

Today has to be perfect for you, so his cookies need to be frosted.

Fueled by his good-natured desire to make you something sweet, Luke is able to reach just a bit higher, his fingertips grabbing the ceramic mixing bowl by its patterned edge. 

This victory is short-lived, however, as it slips past his butter-coated fingers and thuds to the ground, the heavy bowl splitting in two.

The broken bowl in front of him causes the Angel to feel a bit distressed. Why couldn't he be bigger?

To clean up the fallen pieces.

But as his kitchen timer takes down slowly he realizes that he's running out of time. He has to get the frosting made soon.

"Where are all the other mixing bowls?" he wonders aloud as he looks through the other cabinets and dishwasher, finding none. 

He knows that there are more than just the ones he has been using for the batter. But where are they?

He puffs out his little cherub cheeks with a pout as he tries to think where they could've gone.

And then, it hits him.

Solomon…

The Sorcerer has a habit of 'borrowing' things from the kitchen, bringing them into his Lab, hoarding them, and not bringing them back for weeks. The batch of cookies in the oven only has a few minutes left, so he wastes no time scampering up to the Lab to retrieve the stolen mixing bowls.

Thankfully, the dark wooden door to the Lab is unlocked, and he slips inside. Every step is anxious for the little Angel. You never know what is crawling about Solomon's Lab. 

This time, the air is unusually sweet, like cotton candy and pomegranate seeds. 

The mouthwatering smell has the angeling giggling to himself, although Solomon can't cook an edible meal to save his life, some of the spells and potions he cooks up can be classified as tasty.

From the corner of his eye, Luke sees a small stack of his mixing bowls on the countertop. But as he gets close, he sees that they are completely filthy, covered in remnants of some experiment.

Luke knows not to try to touch those ones; after all, the last time he tried to clean some of Solomon's dishes, he ended up cursed with webbed feet for a whole day. 

As he shudders from the memory, he spots a light blue bowl on the edge of another table. 

It's his favorite bowl; this one would be perfect for him to use to make the frosting. 

The best part is it looks clean. 

BUZZ...

The sharp ringing of the kitchen timer causes the little Angel to jump as he hastily grabs the bowl and runs downstairs so his cookies won't burn. 

But in his rush to prevent what he thinks would be the day's biggest disaster, he fails to notice the small layer of shimmery glaze that has gathered at the bottom of the bowl.

~

There is Love in the dark, chilly air of the devildom as you make your way to the Demon Lord's castle. Your feet are not quite running, but they step with an embarrassed quickness, 

The Valentine's Day outfit that Asmodeus picked out for you earlier had caused a few delays, so now you worry you are running late to the party. 

How can one shirt have so many different types of buttons and zippers?

A part of you wonders if the Avatar of Lust had given you this particular outfit to distract you and prevent you from leaving for the party with the other brothers. 

Your hands pat the back pockets of your jeans again as you feel the solid outline of your DDD through the fabric and sigh in relief. Barbatos wrote on the invitations that bringing the device was necessary for today's events since he had planned a few party games that required them. 

It's then you notice a little figure dressed in white slowly making his way up the path just ahead of you. 

Luke's steps are as small as he awkwardly carries a large container. You are about to ask him if he needs any help, but the look of determination on his face tells you not to try and take it from him, so instead, you raise a friendly hand and call after him.

When he sees you, he stands up a bit straighter. 

"Mc, Happy Valentine's Day." he beams. 

"Thank you, Luke." you look down at the box curiously. "Whatcha got there?"

The little Angel's cheeks turn a bit pink as he looks shyly away from you. "I made angelic sugar cookies for the party.

Your grin is elated at his words. "Those are so good. That was very thoughtful of you, Luke."

He perks up like a little dog at your compliment. "It was nothing, I made that frosting you like too, but I didn't have all the ingredients I needed, so only a few were frosted."

"I'm sure everyone will love them." you smile purposely, making your strides small so the little guy can keep up with you. "Did you remember to bring your DDD for the party games?"

His blue eyes widen in shock, and he looks at you with an expression of pure distress. "Oh no, I knew I was forgetting something."

"Since you have that big box of cookies, I can just run back to Purgatory Hall and grab it for you." you offer with a kind smile. "Where did you leave it."

He looks at you gratefully, and his shoulders relax as much as he can with that huge box of cookies in his hands. "You would really do that for me? Thank you, you're the best Mc; I think I left it on the kitchen counter."

Sounds good, I'll see you in a little bit." you smile. As you turn around, you remember one more thing. "Make sure to save a cookie for me."

"Don't worry," he calls back happily. "I will."

~

The enormous doors part for Luke in an almost haunting manner as he approaches the castle door. He fights the shudder as he steps inside, clutching his box of cookies with a death grip as his ears pick up the faint sound of conversation. 

He follows it closer and closer to the banquet hall, where he was told the party would be held. 

As the sounds grow louder, he can make out the excited rambling of Leviathan, the loud and merry laughter of Diavolo, and the animated squealing of Asmodeus. 

Although they are demons, their happy chatter soothes his nerves as he pushes open the door with his shoulder. 

The conversation in the room dies as the door creaks open. And when he steps out from behind the wood, he notes that everyone has been staring at him. When everyone sees it's just him, they quickly return to their usual conversations. 

"I'm glad you could make it, Luke," Barbatos says with a polite smile, being the first one to recover from the momentary disappointment. 

Simeon approaches the smaller Angel friendlily, placing a hand on top of Luke's head and ruffling his hair. "It seems everyone heard you approaching and assumed you were Mc."

"It could've been." he mumbles embarrassedly, "I had forgotten something back at home, and they offered to get it for me so I could bring over the cookies."

"Cookies?" Beel says, his head snapping towards Luke with gluttonous intent.

Luke's fondness for the Avatar of Gluttony's interest in his sweets causes him to smile and place the box on the table.

He removes the first layer of beautifully frosted cookies for all to see. "Yeah, I made these for the party. That's why I was running late today. 

"Smells good," Beel mutters, taking a slow step toward the tray of cookies. Luke is so proud of the attention he garnered that he doesn't realize that everyone else is staring at the plate as well, enthralled by the sweet smell. 

"Ohhh, they're soooo cute." Asmodeus gushes, holding up the heart-shaped cookie with his freshly manicured nails. The little red heart decals stand out on the glossy pink background.

Lucifer clears his throat. "May I try one?" he asks, "I do not have the biggest sweet tooth, but since it is a Holiday, I may as well."

"S-sure." the Angel replies, as everyone reaches for a cookie. There are only a few left on the plate, so he decides to wait to have one himself until you get here.

"Thank you, Luke, these look delicious," Barbatos says, removing his white glove before touching the gooey sweet. 

Luke watches as everyone takes a bite of the cookies, his heart feeling full when he hears the sounds of approval as they chew. 

"Wow," these are really good," Levi says, being the first to try to take another cookie.

"Wait," he says quickly, snatching the plate off the table. "These are Mc's favorite; let's wait until they get back to eat another one.

Lucifer giggles and stumbles back clumsily. "Yay, Mc's coming…" The dreamy lift in his tone makes Luke's eyes go wide in alarm. 

Something is wrong. 

Are they drunk???

"Mc…Cutie Pie." Satan hums; the usual sharp intelligence in his expression is gone and replaced with giddy lovesickness.

There is a haze to the Prince's eyes and a ruddiness to his cheeks as he nods thoughtfully. "I'll bring this plate up to my chambers. I want to feed them every bite myself. 

"No way," Levi says way too confidently. "If anyone will be alone in a room with Mc. It will be me.

Barbaots stretches his arms out lethargically. "I'm… going to lay down in my room." he yawns. "Tell Mc to come to my room when they get here."

"You're tired, Barbatos?" Belphegor asks, the Avatar of Sloth looking wide awake."

"Yer not?" Mammon slurs, his pupils dilated. Luke turns and looks into the Avatar of Greed's eyes and sees that his pupils are now heart-shaped. 

"How could I be?" the youngest of the seven answers. "Mc is coming soon, and I don't want to waste my time sleeping when I can be looking at them. 

"Do you think Mc would give me a piggyback ride?" Beel hums absentmindedly. 

"Course they would." Mammon gushes. "Mc is super strong and pretty and smart. And….~" his love-sick rambling is cut off by a dark chuckle from Simeon. 

"No way," he coos. "You would crush them if you jumped on their back. You clearly don't know how to treat someone as special as Mc. 

"And you do?" Levi laughs.

Simeon's smile is sinful. "Let's just say once I had my turn with them, Mc won't be thinking about any of you."

"That's so inappropriate." Asmodeus gasps with wide eyes. "I-i can't have you speaking about Mc like that." he covers his ears with his hands to block out the sound. 

"Some Avatar of Lust you are," Simeon smirks, leaning in and using his writer's brain to get a bit descriptive with what he would like to do to you when you get to the party. 

"What is wrong with you guys?" Luke stammers as he tries to block out Simeon's sinful words. 

With everyone else thinking about nothing but you, Solomon shyly taps a rather distressed Luke on the shoulder. His cheeks are a soft shade of pink as he stares down at the floor, "I-i think I know what is happening…"

~Why was in those cookies??? Find out what happens next in part 2

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[pinejayy]

Aizetsu NSFW Headcanons

Honestly he makes my legs drift apart // reader is describe as a female

trigger warnings: duh some nsfw, face sitting, fingering, blood/period play, him being a bottom, degrading, thigh riding, teasing, biting, blow job.

Let’s get this out of the way, Aizetsu definitely whimpers during sex. He lets out small whines and moans. “Please Y/N, I need to fill you up.”

He loves being the bottom most of the time, but there are times that he’s top. He will be top if you’ve been a bad girl or if he needs to let out some steam. “Yeah, you like it when I fuck you right? You like the feeling of my cock inside of you?” or “That’s right take my cock.”

He loves teasing you. Especially if you’re laying on the bed and he loves to finger you real slow and good. While his thumb is circling around your sensitive clit.

If he’s teasing you, you’ll have to beg. And a simple please won’t do you’ll have to get your knees and beg for his cock.

Whenever he’s top he loves to talk down on you. Like for example- “Oh my! Look at how wet you are?” and “Oh you’re such a naughty girl…maybe I need to put you in your place.”

Also whenever you’ve been naughty he makes you sit on his lap, and he’ll make you grind yourself against his thigh. He doesn’t care if you’re crying or begging him to touch you or fuck you dumb he’ll just sit down and enjoy the show. “Naughty girls don’t get rewards.”

Whenever the other clones try flirting with you, he’ll drag you to your bedroom and fuck you. He doesn’t care if they hear you moaning you belong to him and him only.

As I said, he loves being the bottom. He loves watching you a weak human overpower a demon. It really turns him on.

AND PLEASE TALK DIRTY TO HIM, TALK DOWN TO HIM! “Such a naughty Demon…maybe I won’t allow you to finish.” Or “Look at you moaning over me? Are you that weak?”

If you ever want to shut him up just pin him down to your bed and sit on his face, I’m sure he’ll enjoy the tasty treat. “Shh shut up and enjoy this treat-.”

Please pull his hair, he’ll moan your name out.

Whenever you’re on your period he begs and begs for you to allow him to go down on you. At first you were a bit hesitant but he didn’t shut up about it until you gave him what he wanted.

“I get too enjoy a taste treat with some extra sauce.”

He may be a sensitive babey but don’t underestimate the demon. He loves rough sex. His favorite position is missionary, he loves it when you wrap your legs around his waist. It makes him go crazy…to the point where he’s digging his nails on your thighs drawing blood.

Loves biting you, also loves it when you shiver when his fangs touch your soft skin. He gets excited when he hears your cries when he sinks his fangs into your skin.

Licks up the blood and tells you how good you taste. “Your blood is divine, I wonder what your flesh tastes like.”

Whenever he’s upset or mad about Sekido yelling you’ll get on your knees and bat your eyelashes at him. Slowly pulling his pants down and taking his shaft into your mouth.

He groans loudly and tugs on your hair. “Oh god that feels so good my love, so fucking good ~”

His other favorite position is when you ride him. He loves the way your chest bounces. The Demon also pinches your nipples, loving your reaction.

Is great at after care! He makes sure you’re always taken care of. If he was too rough he’ll hold you and kiss you. Whisper sweet things in your ear. “You did a good job my love. I’m so proud of you.”

He’ll bring you water or a snack. Because he’s gonna want round 2 so you need all the energy.

R.I.P. the ability to walk 

The other clones get annoyed by your guy’s moaning 👁️👄👁️ like bro!! You guys fuck like rabbits.

Karaku has asked for a threesome once and of course he got told no. :( Aizetsu doesn’t want to share you.

[revelboo]

can I just say how much I love! your!! writing!!! I wasn’t really a Starscream or Bluestreak fan before because I have a tunnel vision on Bumblebee but stumbling upon your account made me adore them so much!! I like how neat your writing style is even though you make it as bullet points because I’m usually not fond with bullet points style, however! Something about how you focus on the description and “show not tell” the most is sooo tasty idk how to describe it. Thank you for your wonderful writings 😔🙏💕

Thank you! The bullet points were mostly a way to clearly demarcate a view point shift since these are snippets rather than anything fully fleshed out. Normally, I’d only head hop every other chapter in a paranormal romance manuscript, but that wouldn’t work here.

Also: Pleasure to Meet You by Motion City Soundtrack is my theme for this fic

Everything is Alright pt 34

IDW Starscream x Reader

• Watching you walk over to your stash of human things on his desk, a little more tension eases. Everything right again, even though he’s fully aware of how fragile it is. That worry still there eating at him, a dark tide just waiting to crash down on him. But not at this moment. You offer him a little smile as you drape that old cleaning cloth he first gave you about your shoulders. Like a ghost, Soundwave’s disdainful ‘inadequate’ floats through his processor.

• Somehow going back with Starscream feels more like reality than going home to your actual life had. Like everything else was a dream, less real than this. Because this has become home. Well, not quite if you’re being honest. It’s not this place at all. It’s him and it’s a curious new feeling, fragile. Breathing in the scent of him from your blanket, something settles inside you and you look up as he runs a big hand over his helm, wings fidgeting. “After my rotation, we’ll refuel together,” he says, optics flicking to your dwindling supply of stolen junk food. It’s not a request to share a meal, but a certainty that you will do this. You smile anyway.

• “I’d like that.” You’re smiling at him, happy to be near him. Glad to see him and it almost hurts, a bittersweet ache that he’d almost given this away. Let you slip out of his hands. Reaching down, he runs the tip of a servo over your soft cheek, the touch lingering as you reach up to lay a hand on him. Such a small thing, but it means more than you can ever realize. It takes an effort of will to break that contact instead of curling his servos around you and bringing you to cradle against him.

• There’s an impulse to call out after him when he leaves, and your fingers fist in your blanket to keep yourself still. To not run to the edge of the desk and reach out. He’s not leaving you again. You know it, but that jangling uncertainty is still there. That he might leave and not return.

• You’re back. Soundwave hesitates, feeling that now familiar tangle of emotion at the back of his processor. When you’d just disappeared from his awareness, he’d assumed Starscream had accidentally killed you. It had always been a possibility with the Seeker’s temper. Thought that you were just gone and that loss has twisted about his spark, because as frustrating as the chaos of your mind is, he’s gotten to where it’s familiar. Always just there at the back of his processor, a warm presence he can’t shut out like music softly playing. He’s pushing up from his desk, aware of his cassettes looking up in surprise.

• When the door slides open, you stand up expecting Starscream, but it’s Soundwave. His helm turns, visor flaring slightly as he spots you and strides over. Head tipping back as he reaches a huge hand for you, almost not noticing the faint tremble as his servos curl around you and he lays his other palm on the desk, big frame bowing over you. Silent aside from the ragged sound of him venting. One of his servos slides against your neck over your pulse, but otherwise he’s still aside from that strange shivering. You lay your palms on his hand, staring at that unreadable, hidden face. Had he been worried about you? That fragile feeling you don’t dare examine too closely stirs as you wish you weren’t so very small so you could wrap your arms around him. Around them both, because they’re yours. And it’s worth fighting for.

Previous Next

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Angel's Blood

Aziraphale x GN!Vampire!Reader + a hint of Crowley

18+ ONLY / Requests are OPEN

Read part two- Demon's Blood

Summary: It's entirely an accident when you discover Angel's blood is an aphrodisiac.

CW: vampire!reader, blood, i guess blood kink if you squint, choking, thigh riding

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Being a Vampire had its draws, that was for absolutely sure. Strength, heightened senses (although this could be a hit and miss, depending on which sense you were talking about), speed, and your personal favourite- elongated life. Being able to watch the world grow and thrive around you, it was something truly special. 

It was also a curse too, but that was less fun to think about, so you generally tended to avoid thoughts about it as much as you could. Now, you weren’t necessarily a ‘vegetarian’ Vampire, per se. But you did your best to only bleed people dry who ‘deserved’ it. Real bottom of the barrell stuff. It was… not particularly tasty.

And what with the lockdowns, and the lack of evil and wrongdoing in the air, you’d found it becoming exceptionally difficult to find yourself more meals. The 1940s had basically been an all-you-can-eat buffet. Oh, sure, that wasn’t a good thing, but you’d not been sated quite the same way ever since. Never enough walking popsicles about these days. 

Oh, now there was an idea. Frozen blood pops. You thought you might give those a try when you got your next few blood bags. But those were still a while away, and you were hungry now. 

Usually it was not a huge deal to wait a while between meals, but given how uptight and wound Humanity was getting, and how much harder it was getting to, well, get away with things, you were spacing things out more than you should have been already, and as you pushed your way through the Bookshop doors, you knew Aziraphale knew what was going on immediately. 

You’d met the Angel and Demon pair several centuries ago during a particularly popular theatre act, and you had hit it off immediately. They’d both known exactly what you were, and did not beat around the bush about it. The fact that they’d not feared you in the slightest helped with that too. You didn’t have to keep your guard up around them, and once you’d told Aziraphale about who, what, when and where you fed on- he was much more inclined to become friendly with you. 

“Az- Zira-” you panted, the bell on the door clanging wildly and loudly as you practically fell through the door frame. “Do I- have any- blood here?” Each couple of words took effort to say, and were punctuated with a heaving breath in. You usually kept a small stash at your usual haunts just in case, but you had a sneaking suspicion based on the look on Aziraphale’s face, that no, you did not have any spare snacks sitting around. 

“Oh, dear- erm, no, I don’t believe so, darling-” the Angel said concernedly. You braced yourself against the door and smacked your dry lips.

Well fuck. 

“Shit,” was all you replied, arm wobbling before your body gave out on you. Before you hit the ground you felt arms around you, pulling you up and against Aziraphale’s body. You could smell his soap on his skin, a mix of white sage and oregano and you clung to him desperately so you wouldn’t fall. 

Aziraphale led you over to his arm chair, settling himself down with you in his lap. He brushed the hair out of your forehead and you shivered, your nerves becoming more panicked by the minute.

“You know you shouldn’t leave it this long between… meals,” he practically tutted as if unsure what the correct word to use was, and you let out a shaky chuckle, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. You weren’t sure if it was the desperate hunger or what, but Aziraphale smelt so fucking good.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, nosing at his skin softly. Your arm pulled closer around his torso. “It’s getting- harder. Not so much- supply,” you sighed, the panting easing now you weren’t exerting so much energy with movement. 

It wasn’t as if you’d die if you didn’t feed. It was just that without the blood, there’d be no flow in your system, and with no blood flow your body would just… stop working. Dry up and go stiff like an old doll. You’d be stuck in a coma until more blood was transfused into you. 

How did you know this? Well, let’s just say you did not particularly want to repeat the end of the 14th century. You shuddered at the memory and Aziraphale rubbed your shoulder, cooing at you softly in an effort to comfort you.

“Can I do anything for you?” Aziraphale asked softly, kissing the top of your forehead. You nosed at his neck another moment in throught before it came to you. Aziraphale had a body. One that pumped blood.

“I- I have an idea,” you said quietly, pulling away from his throat to look up at him. Aziraphale’s gaze was soft as he nodded, asking what he could do to help you. That was Aziraphale for you, always ready to give for the next person in need.

“I need to feed,” you say slowly and evenly, measuring the Angel’s reactions. “And I’m too weak to find someone who… I can feed off.” You wait to see if he gets what you’re hinting at, and when his eyes widen in shock, you can’t help but be amused at the comical expression. 

“Oh- oh, my,” he splutters as his brain processes the request. And it is a request. You’d never take advantage or take anything from him without his permission. It wasn’t who you were. Not at all. “Oh, well, I suppose,” he adds, clearing his throat. You didn’t even know if it was safe to drink Angel blood. But you supposed you were about to find out.

“Not too much,” he adds, readjusting to make it easier for you to gain access to his neck. “Takes a while to replenish, you see.” You can hear the blood pumping just a little faster- smell the spike of sage that permeates the air over his skin. You shudder out a breath, looking at him one more time. One more chance to back out of this. 

When he tilts his head just a little further in submission, you stop hesitating, fangs appearing in a flash of a second only to disappear again- sinking into Aziraphale’s flesh. The feel of his skin under your lips is to die for. The Angel gasps, the hint of a yelp lost in the haze of blood finally, finally hitting your tongue. 

You let out a groan of pure satisfaction, sucking a little harder. That sweet liquid tasting of peonies, iron and ink. Everyone tasted a little different. God, did he taste good though. You let out a possessive growl and twisted in Aziraphale’s arms so you were sitting on his lap, straddling one thigh and pulling him by the hair to gain as much access as possible. 

“God, fuck, Zira-” you panted, pulling away to lick your lips clean. Your eyes were blown wide watching a drop of blood swell and trail down towards his collar. You surged forward to lick it clean and let out a whimper. “Fuck, fuck- you taste good.” 

The Angel let out a breathy chuckle, and you managed to tear your gaze away from his willing throat to look into his face. His own eyes were darker than usual, and a pink tint was colouring his cheeks. You leaned in to sniff under the bone of his jaw and grinned a sharks grin. Oh, he was enjoying this.

“Do you like it too, Zira? Like it when I feed on you? Shit, I can feel your blood inside me- Angels Blood. Fuck.” You’d barely realised that you’d started grinding softly on his clothed thigh, jolts of pleasure travelling up your nerves like electric shocks. Nothing had ever tasted or felt this good- not in your couple thousand years of life. 

But why, why was it so good? Was it because his blood was undiluted? Pure blood straight from the Heavens- literally? That had to be it. God, it was almost… euphoric. Fuck it, it was euphoric.

When Aziraphale moved to wrap his warm hands around your hips and have you grind down harder and faster, you moaned, head tilted back in pleasure. The Angel tilted his head to the side and let out a quiet plea. “Take more, p-please,” he whispered. 

And who were you to deny him his hearts desires? 

Your fangs sank back into his skin, and his hips jerked up slightly in your direction. You moaned, sending little vibrations through his neck and shoulder and one hand reached down to palm at him through his slacks. 

“O-oh,” he gasped out, fingers tightening on your hips as you began to move in tighter circles, grinding yourself down on him and panting with the pleasure shooting up your spine. Your muscles were already beginning to ache but you persevered, the pleasure far outweighing the burn. 

Aziraphale whimpered quietly, biting his lip and adjusting his knee to have you seated more comfortably. The movement of his thigh pulled a deep groan from you, and your fingers pressed into his bulge with a little more devilish intent. 

Fuck, you were not going to last long and you knew it, it was almost like you’d been strung on a high wire and the ampage turned up to eleven. Fuck, the only thing that could make this better was if-

“Fucking Hell,” you hear behind you. The shock and the adrenaline that came with being caught sent your hips forward harshly, a noise of pleasure escaping whether you wanted it to or not. The pair of you hadn’t even locked the door. “Angel, I didn’t take you for this kind of behaviour. Seems more like my kind of thing.” 

You feel Aziraphale’s fingers clench tighter on your hips, dragging you forward and back over his thigh. You can barely focus on the conversation over the pleasure.

“It’s- ah- not what it looks like, Crowley-” Aziraphale manages to say. You’re pretty sure you know exactly what this looks like, and you’re not sure how Aziraphale intends to explain this to his Demon friend. Lover. The three of you were a lot of things to each other. It was bound to happen when you spend so many human lifetimes around each other.

“Isn’t it?” Crowley asks, taking a seat down on the chair facing opposite to Zira. You suck a little harder, more of your Angel’s blood laving over your tongue. Your hand massages against him and one of his arms comes up so his hand can caress your spine. 

“Because, and, right- correct me if I’m wrong- but it looks as though you’re letting our dear old friend here fuck your thigh and drink you practically dry,” his gaze must catch on the way you’re rubbing your hand over Aziraphale’s very prominent and thick erection. “Mm, well, and there’s that. Not overly Holy, I would have thought. But don’t stop on my account.” 

You feel Aziraphale’s fingers lift from your spine and suddenly Crowley isn’t on the chair anymore. He’s pressed up against your back and reaching to pull softly on your hair. You pant as your mouth is pulled away from Aziraphale’s neck, and the Angel in question whines in protest. 

Crowley pulls you into a kiss, licking the blood from your lips and giving you a truly devilish grin. He lets go only to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze. 

“Naw, what’s wrong, Pet? Hmm? You want to cum?” The Demon squeezes tight enough to cut off your air and you hump against Aziraphale’s thigh desperately. Crowley has the audacity to laugh, standing above you and holding you steady. 

“Go on, then,” he snarls, pressing tighter still. You whine and rock your hips harder, your hand grinding against Aziraphale at the same time, who is turning his head to press kisses to Crowley’s wrist reverently. “Come for us, Pet. Hungry thing.” 

You cry out as Aziraphale bumps his leg up against you, the final touch to make you fall over that edge. You cum hard, jerking in Crowley’s grip as he loosens his fingers just enough to allow you to breathe in again. He laughs, giving you a light pat on the cheek. Hard enough to feel but not to hurt. 

As soon as he releases your throat, you’re burying yourself in Aziraphale’s neck, seeking warmth and comfort, hips rolling over his thigh to ride out your pleasure. Your hand has reached into his slacks by now, tugging at him erratically and quickly. The Angels head tilts back in pleasure, where you’re sure Crowley is giving him a downright filthy look. 

As soon as your lips press a featherlight kiss to the marks you’ve left on him, he cums. Ribbons of white coating your fingers inside his slacks. You let out a moan of a laugh, tired and sated, as he pants underneath you. 

He’s got his eyes clenched shut with the pleasure, but as soon as he starts to come down, Crowley leans over to kiss him hungrily. The Angel reciprocates, reaching up to cup his jaw. 

You’re still snuggled up on Zira’s lap, the post-nut haze settling thickly and heavily into your skin. You let out a yawn, and lick your lips clean, the last of the Angel’s blood entering your system. 

“So,” you say tiredly as Crowley leans against the other arm of the chair next to the pair of you. “I’ve learned some things today.” Your fingers dance over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Who would have thought Angel’s blood would be such a powerful aphrodesiac, huh?” 

Crowley hums in thought before giving you a wicked grin, a hint of a flash of yellow behind his sunglasses.

“Makes you wonder what Demon’s blood can do, eh?” 

Hmm, makes you wonder indeed…

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Had another ISaT AU dream

This one was much less atmospheric and cool than my Tower of Dormont AU one but for anyone out there looking for fic ideas: Modern day 'urban fantasy AU' with the classic 'all the magic types are hidden' masquerade shenanigans going on but well the setup is: Isabeau, neighbourhood friendly vampire, trying to be as ethical as he can with his blood consumption, wanders areas like the outside of night clubs and the park late at night totally just 'out for a late night jog' with emergency fruit snacks and juice boxes on hand-

meets Siffrin, an exhausted, lonely, 'working far too many hours to barely break even on their rent' human on the way back from their 6 to 3am shift attempting to stargaze in the middle of the park, and the two get SO into talking Isa kinda forgets to even bite the little fella (oops!) before offering them a juice box. Cue Sif and Isa both deciding for '100% totally logical reasons' to keep frequenting the park, Isa having his first real 'help Mira, Ma'dam I'm biting someone I know on the regular, and I'm not sure if I LIKE-like them or if this just, idk, stupid vampire instincts going on' crisis combined with some secondary 'also I'm really worried about their living situation and maybe I could invite them to stay with me, introduce you all to them cuz they don't really seem to have any friends, etc' stuff, Sif slowly getting to meet everyone in 'the supernatural support group/family' (aka Mira, Odile, Bonnie and Nille), Isa and Sif's relationship progressing firmly into romantic territory with Isa stressing about how to explain the whole 'vampire' thing and how to apologise about all the hypnotising and get across that the only thing he's ever used it for was Sif's blood only (which btw is very tasty and sweet and also lets him daywalk sometimes which usually only happens when it's freely given, so Sif should probably not let any other vamp know about that) and- And-!

Annnnd it turns out that actually, Siffrin has known Isa was a vampire this entire time and that Isa's hypnosis never worked on them: Sif just accepted that getting bitten by the wonderful funny buff Isa-vamp was a small price to pay for free meals and good conversation on the regular, Isa's occasion 'red eye' thing was just attractive a tell for when he was getting hungry and as a 'Null'(1) -aka one of the Universe's designated monster killers who's constantly having to butcher and then hide the bodies of all the monsters that keep trying to pull off kills or worse right in front of them (when Sif's not being targeted himself. Late night solo shifts at the 7/11 / gas station are the worst)- this frankly has been the nicest, least stressful string of monster encounters they've had in a long time and they're really enjoying the reprieve.

TLDR: Isabeau is a vampire in the modern day who's hyper freaked out about confessing his (and his friends') monster status to his totally normal overworked human 'maybe partner' Sif, who actually knew Isa was a vamp the whole time, is actually THE primary monster hunter of the area, and is simply really happy that Isa and the other monsters he keeps introducing them to are actually good company as opposed to usual murderous eldritch horrors they usually run into. (1) My dream gave me a surprising amount of worldbuilding here (thank you dream Odile for trying to sus Sif out) but Nulls are sort of something akin to a Slayer in Buffy - Chosen ones selected by The Universe to slay evil. Nulls specifically 'ping' as 100% normal human to pretty much all supernatural senses (hence why they're called Nulls) but they're just flat out immune to mind manipulation and perception filters, they heal back from horrific levels of injury relatively quickly (though it's not quite at 'abusable in combat' levels), they instinctively know exactly how to hurt and kill any foe they deem in need of killing, and they tend to have major 'kill them all' issues towards most supernatural types since they often become Nulls as a result of their family's getting murdered or nearly being erased from existence by some sort of cosmic horror etc... Resulting in them being officially 'the ones monsters tell horror stories of'. Incidentally, one of the 'tells' of a Null is that they tend to be especially 'alluring' in various ways to most kinds of 'human hunting' monsters: Their blood, flesh, emotions etc all 'smell' and 'taste' especially delicious (and may grant 'special' properties such as giving Vampires sun immunity), they tend to work odd hours or 'do at one's own pace' jobs (aka being murder monster catnip tends to result in a lot of unscheduled and inexplainable emergences), and they tend to be perpetually exhausted (due to having to be near constantly hyper alert in case of Yet Another Monster after them, and all the monster slaying itself).

As for other stuff:

I vaguely picture Mira and the other Dormont Housemaidens as Angels for the Change God (think like bees to a hive - collecting the 'byproducts' of fresh hope and change in humans to make into food), Odile as some kind of primordial Eldritch Thing who's always lent towards benevolent observation of humanity (also one of the few supernaturals to ever have met more than one Null before and lived to tell about it. Probably the only supernatual being in setting who's likely to treat them as highly dangerous people first, murderous killers second), and Bonnie and Nille as Were Beasts of some kind (plz picture Sif being charmed over by Bonnie in an instant, being enthralled by their big gush/bragging about the 'once a month family camping trips' where they and Nille go to the countryside to hunt wild boar or deer which then Bonnie cooks up real nice for everyone except Za because he's a weenie who can't handle any good seasonings like garlic' and immediately offering to save Frin the best cut next time since it probably wouldn't be safe to bring him on the trip with them).

Also Isa totally works as a 'night only' beat cop or park ranger or something (gets away with just working the later hours since 'sun allergy' is accepted as a reasonably common disability in a human society full of secret monster folks trying to blend in) though he IS currently undertaking an online apprenticeship with a well known fashion designer who's been around forever.

Sif's Null awakening probably involved a 'history eating' eldritch horror (so um. Yep, sorry Sif, you still have memory loss, no ID and probably no education past middle school level) and The King's also a Null but of the 'genuinely murderous and terrible' kind - specifically in my dream, Sif's (2nd?) awakening involved killing The King (and mercy killing a whole bunch of innocent monsters The King was keeping as 'living trophies' or something because Sif had no idea how to free them from their various fate-worse-than-deaths otherwise) but like. I'm not writing this so do as you wish~ I do very much like the visual of Sif's 'Null' instincts including other Null who've 'gone wrong' though and hope that gets included. Makes for a nice 'and then Isa and the other friendly monsters had to process that cute, sweet Siffrin who's so gentle with Bonbon, stepped in to help Mira and Nille with babysitting near instantly, gets teased by Odile and throws everything into making Isa laugh and swoon, is in fact the rumored serial killer of serial killers who once dealt with a guy that had a rep akin to 'He Who Must Not Be Named' among the monster community, when he was around 14 years old and armed with a pencil sharpner.

Oh and before I forget again: Sif has absolutely zero knowledge of supernaturals other than 1) they exist, 2) most other people don't know they exist, and 3) Siffrin is supernatural catnip who's really really good at murdering things before they can murder him or other people. Also they do not get paid enough for this, monsters tend to carry less money on them than one might think, and the police start asking very awkward questions if you become known as 'that one fella who keeps finding and selling stuff suspected to belong to missing persons at the nearby pawn shop'.

Only reason Sif didn't start their 'three warnings before murder' thing with Isa is that they were just that damn tired when they met him that they didn't pick up on his vampy vibes until his teeth were in their neck, they didn't have the energy to 'bother' fighting him off (they were firmly at the 'this might as well happen, why not die at the teeth of someone who was at least nice about it' point) and well. Cue dull, confused happy surprise (much akin to someone just coming off a vamp's hypnosis) when Isa stopped them from tipping over, apologised for 'keeping them out so late they were fainting from low blood sugar' and gave them half a dozen snacks before offering to walk them home.

So yeah. There's another AU out for adoption if anyone wants in (do feel free to ask for help if you want more world building or whatever) and off I go back to typing away at my endless amount of ISaT Selkie AU notes instead~ XD