#oc: demon of twos

[philonob]

some self indulgent doodling to finish off birfday

[chalkrub]

strange fellas

[momoiro-hime]

HAPPY PRIDE FRIENDS !! 🌈💖

Heart series pt.1 | Do NOT repost or use without permission.

[confuzing]

My Super secret AU were Airplane and Cucumber Bro live in the same apartment building but don't figure that out until the entire building and it's tenants get transmigrated into Proud Immortal Demon Way post realms merging.

It's super secret because the stuff that's interesting to me is the apartment residents banding together to figure shit out. If I wrote this we'd probably be 20 chapters deep before any known PIDW characters showed up, and Demon Lord Luo Binghe isn't showing up until after the retired electrician grandpa and the engineering students (apartments were near a college so there's a bunch of students in the building) have figured out how to make their own solar panels.

(Also this is secretly about giving Mu Qingfang a happy ending because his canon PIDW situation is Real Sad- he shows up at the apartment and adopts the small gaggle of med students and starts a clinic.)

(Also he might start a lil cultivation school because a bunch of the residents got brand new shiny spiritual veins when they transmigrated and they have no idea what to do with them.)

Ok I gotta stop talking about this.

[ramshacklerumble]

cleaned up a sketch from a couple days ago when i remembered i could draw what i wanted and so i drew the aftermath of ace attempting to initiate a kiss and stick the landing.

tag list:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @winterweary @thehollowwriter @harryinramshackle

@theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @kimikitti

@s-t-y-x @nightwingshero @water-writings @beneathsakurashade @oya-oya-okay @scint1llat3

@twstinginthewind (dm to be added)

[chez-cinnamon]

Chezzy sonas.......

Cin is my main one but sometimes I hop between the four of them - they're also OCs for their own story !!

[cursedwretch]

Another Drop

young!Silco x AFAB!Reader; Word count: 1706 Words; Rating 18+ MDNI AO3

It’s early days in the Zaunite’s smuggling empire, and you’ve tagged along for a deal.

Deeply, deeply inspired by the young!silco concepts.

Contains: Public Sex, dom!silco, smoking, rough sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, exhibitionism/voyeurism, gun play (if you squint?? The FMC is never threatened with it).

Another drop.

Silco and I sat in the alley, waiting for Vander to finish the sale inside, which was pretty fucking novel, if I’m honest. I rarely joined runs, and Vander playing the businessman was even rarer. Unfortunate for us all, the fucker we were selling to happened to hate Silco—Shocker, I know—though clearly not enough to avoid our business entirely. I was reminded of why as I watched the man before me fish a cigarette out of his pocket. The little pill.

“You shouldn’t do that,” I narrowed my eyes at him. He froze, hand cupping the air as he cocked his brow.

I shot a leading glance to the crate he was seated on. He knew full well what manner of shit was stuffed within. One wrong ember…

“Life’s short,” he shrugged, fixing me with a wicked grin as the lighter sparked to life.

I scoffed, shaking my head as I watched him take a languorous drag. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering closed as he exhaled, fighting the tug at the corners of his mouth. Show off.

He held it up, level with his eyes, perched carefully between his fingers, “it was worth the effort.”

Right. He’s insisted on that foolish fucking run for a crate of these the week prior. I let out another exasperated laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

His answering snicker was low and treacherous, “unfortunate for us, seeing as I’m the brains of this little operation.”

“We’re doomed,” I held my hand aloft, “give me a hit.”

“You don’t smoke.”

I cast a quick glance over my shoulder, rolling my eyes, “life’s short, isn’t it?”

I heard the crunch of boots on gravel as he hopped down from the crate, a saunter in his step. As always. I keep my eyes forward, smirking towards the alley entrance as he approached.

“Close your eyes.”

My breath hitched; that I didn’t expect. Still, I wasn’t one for giving him what we wanted. Not easily, at least.

I glared his way instead, “we’re working.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” his eyes sparked as he closed the remaining distance, dashing the ashes with a dramatic flick.

I stared back, eyes narrowed.

“Let me give you what you want,” his eyes landed on my mouth as he drawled.

Fine. I’ll bite.

My world went dark, save for the remnants of that Zaun green that made its way into every crack and crevice of our city, stamped to the back of my eyelids. A constant reminder of where, and who, we were. Another crunch of gravel alerted me to his movement, followed by the warmth of his body, inches from my own.

“Head back,” he murmurs, “just a little.”

I hesitated. His laugh was rumbling, amused. My fingers gripped at the crate beneath me as I felt his fingers on my chin, tilting my back. I let him guide me.

The warmth of the cigarette hovered over my cheek, setting my nerves alight, followed by his lips ghosting over mine. His fingers pull at my lower lip, an instant little tug. Them smoke, warm and acrid and intoxicating, streamed from his lips into my mouth. I took in all the air he was willing to offer, greedy fingers threatening to make their way into his hair. My lungs burned as he retreated, just barely.

My eyes fluttered open, and I swallowed back the urge to cough.

“Good?” His mouth quirked up, eyes dark, roaming down my body.

Divine. But he didn’t need to know that.

I nodded.

“More?”

My own eyes betrayed me—fixed on that little scar on his upper lip. Another nod.

“Good girl,” he purred, shifting closer. His eyes burned into mine as dropped the cigarette to the ground, stamping it out. “Too bad.”

My legs parted automatically, making a space he eagerly filled. “Silco,” I warned, my words cut off in a gasp as his fingers tangled in my hair with a sharp tug.

His lips brushed from my ear to my jaw as he murmured, “Corvin’s a haggler. That wordy little shit will keep Vander busy for time enough.”

He punctuated his sentence with another tug, muffling my sharp cry with his lips. My hands found the lapel of his jacket, tugging him closer as he rolled his hips against me.

He was all tongue and teeth as he pressed me against the crate, mouth trailing down my neck. Fingers dipped beneath my collar, shifting the material to expose more skin.

He smelled of cedar, smoke, and sin.

Another treacherous whine escaped my lips and he let out one of his trademarked wicked, rumbling laughs. He held my hips against him, pressing against the divots with enough force to bruise. I try to buck out of his grip, desperate for more.

His hand found its way to the front of my pants, sliding beneath the waistband with practiced ease. I let out a ragged gasp as he found my core.

“Silco,” I gasp.

He smirk, “shh, I’m working.”

“Fucker,” I said between gasps.

He laughed, “yes, you know I think you’re right.”

He brought his fingers up, glistening with my slick, to pop them into his mouth. I pant as I watch.

“Open,” he instructed, pressed my lips apart and slid those very same fingers inside, they’re firm against my tongue.

He purred, “you always taste so good.”

With another sharp tug I was pulled of the crate entirely, feet hitting the ground. My legs unsteady as he turned me around, bending me over the crates until I felt wood kiss my cheek.

“You want more?” He teased, pressing himself against me. My back arched automatically, grinding my ass against the unmistakable hardness pressed against me.

“Please, Sil,” I whispered. “‘S not enough time.”

One hand tugged my pants down my thigh, his other hand at the small of my back, holding me in place. His cock, hard and teasing, slid between my folds.

I let out a cry as he buried himself inside me – the stretch making my head spin. I relished it.

“Sweetheart,” he shushed me, fingers sliding over my mouth as he pulled me up.

He wasn’t soft. No, he fucked me viscously. Bottomed out with each thrust, pressed against me until the wood bit the skin of my hips. Each snap sending indecent sounds ricocheting through the alley. Fire began to pool low in my core.

He mouthed at my ear, whispering while he fucked into me, “always so good for me.”

I whine, back arching against him.

He started to ramble, as he always did when he was close. Voice rough, gravely, “gods. When we get back, fuck, I’m going to take my time with you. Fuck you until you forget everything but my name—“

There’s a noise at the end of the alley, a crunch of gravel that freezed my blood over. Followed with the click of a gun. I whip my head in its direction, blinking past the haze.

A man stood frozen at the mouth of the alley, equal parts afraid and intrigued. Some poor idiot who stumbled down the wrong alley.

I pant against Silco’s hand, his other held the gun aloft—towards the stranger.

No one moves for a moment. Silco is the first to break, thrusting into me. He lets me fall forward, and my eyes snap closed with a needy moan.

“Hear that?” He sneered at the stranger, voice a low growl, “she’s occupied. Find another alley.”

I turn my head, wood scratching against the skin of my cheek. “Piss off,” I grit out at the stranger, eyes sliding closed one more.

And he must have listened—I hear the clatter of the gun against the crate, feel Silco double forward, chest pressed to my back. His teeth sink int my shoulder with growl, hips snapping against mine at a renewed pace.

His breath peppered my skin as he husked, “such a perfect little cunt.”

My legs shook, “Silco I’m—I need to—“

“Not yet,” he hissed, though his fingers found their way to my clit.

I blinked back tears as I whined, “I can’t—“

“Wait,” he barked, voice growing huskier.

I clawed at the crate, the wood collecting beneath my nails.

“Do you know? How. Fucking. Hard. It is?” he grit out, each word punctuated with a hard thrust, “to pretend I’m not thinking of your perfect fucking cunt every moment we work together.”

I moaned, babbling incessantly—his name, pleas, apologies, anything. Whatever would let him stop fucking torturing me.

“You were made for me,” he panted, grinding his fingers against me, “you understand?”

“Yes,” I cried out, “only you. Silco, please—“

“Good girl,” he gasped, thrusts growing uneven and breath growing ragged, “come for me, darling.”

I fell apart at his command, vision going blurry at the edges, each grind of his hips sending me further past the edge. Gods. Fuck. He let out a low groan, hips stuttering as he growled my name. He rocked against me until my legs ceased their quaking and my moans quieted. Until the world around us started to resume. Back to reality. He pressed a kiss to my cheek as he slid out, murmuring, “divine.”

I panted, propping myself up to turn around. I needed to face him, as the cold chill of the undercity air suddenly sinked into my skin.

He knew. He received me with open arms, pulled me into a deep kiss, and fingers finally, finally found their way into his soft hair. Long hair freshly fallen free from its usual bindings, dusting against his neck. He smiled against my mouth as he pulled back, blue eyes warm and full of light.

“Sap,” I laughed, batting at his chest.

He pressed a soft kiss to my neck with a quiet hum.

The door to the building cracked open, revealing Vander who quickly cycles from surprise, confusion, to an all too knowing smirk.

One last word to Corvin and we were on our way. Silco looped a lazy arm around my shoulder, a freshly-lit cigarette perched between his fingers as we walked. Vander kept quiet until we had a few blocks distance, looking down at his partner to tease, “On the merchandise? Animals.”

[killjo-q]

Random OC drawings because brain cannot focus today but I wanted to draw something

[mooechi]

hi. so u see, its about to be my last day in school and yall know what that means?

IM 1 MONTH FREE FROM HELL🗣️🗣️

but the thing is that i am now bored af+there is no reason for meto wake up on a daily basis no mo

which is texhnically yalls signal to drop anything yall would like me to doodle/sketch! i’ll draw whatever(as long as it isnt anything ykyk creepyweird ehhshsus u get my point) comment/ask that is requested within the 24hr period diz is posted….,.feel free to go crazy pls i need thsi so bas uddont unddersth (yallcan ask me anything abt akari to while were at it)

anyways heres sum riri+hashbrown offerihs/low quality manga redraws to improve myown goofyart

[lemonfroq]

demon dad and human daughter duo that kick ass and fight rogue souls together (idk if i mentioned before but their names are claude and eden ^_^)

[royaltea000]

[jttw swk oc children] tried out giving them some new clothes but I dunno bout this one… 🤔

Prev:

[eeniey-past-bedtime]

Hello, do you create angels and demons? If so, I might ask for a hot angel x reader x demon story

Feathers, Flame, and You

A/N soooo this took a while, had to get the right music and idea in my head! SO for a gender neutral reader, you work as a keeper of old secrets and mystic writing in an ancient library with an annoying pair that are just so interested in you. I took creative liberty and the demon's a dude but angel isn't specified- i hope you like it anon!

Buy me a kofi?

.

..

Dust curls in the shafts of light that cut through the Archive’s stained-glass windows. You run your fingers down the spine of a gilded tome, murmuring a half-remembered tune under your breath. The shelves shift behind you, responding to your song like an old friend rearranging their seat.

You turn a page and feel it before you hear it—warmth, as gentle and golden as a summer sunrise.

“Solari,” you say without looking. “Third time this week.”

Their voice glides across the space like bells ringing in distant cathedrals.

“I enjoy our conversations,” they say. “Your insight is... refreshing.”

You finally glance up. They're standing close today, closer than usual. Wings tucked in, robe shimmering like early morning light on water, golden eyes fixed entirely on you.

You give them a look. “You’re not here for the books, are you?”

They smile faintly. “You’re more illuminating than any text I’ve read.”

Before you can answer, the flames in the sconces spit violently, turning a deep, unnatural red. The air shifts—sharp, smoky, electric.

Azarion walks in like he owns the floor, boots echoing, horns gleaming. A smirk curves on his lips, unreadable and wild.

“Well, if it isn’t the Seraph’s lapdog,” he drawls, glancing at Solari. “Tell me, do you memorize poetry just to bore them?”

Solari’s expression doesn’t shift, but the air around them tightens, heavy. “And you crawl in like a rat, as always. Careful, Azarion. Even vermin can be crushed underfoot.”

“Oh, we’re doing this again?” Azarion sighs dramatically and turns to you, tone instantly shifting. “Darling, why do you let this walking sermon waste your time?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Can’t you two go one day without turning this place into a battlefield?”

Azarion raises a brow. “You didn’t stop me from showing up.”

“I didn’t invite you either.”

“Ouch,” he grins. “But fair.”

Solari steps forward. “They deserve peace. Not your chaos.”

“And you think you’re peace? You’re so full of yourself, I’m surprised your wings still fit in the room.”

You step between them, arms crossed.

“Okay, enough. I’m not owned by either of you.”

They both freeze.

You glance between them, irritation rising like heat beneath your skin. “If you’re going to use me to act out your millennia-long pissing contest, leave. I have actual work to do.”

Solari blinks, and for once, looks uncertain. “That wasn’t my intention—”

“Oh, please,” Azarion scoffs, pacing toward you. “You think hovering around them like a sunbeam doesn’t have an agenda?”

“And dragging infernal parasites into their presence does?” Solari snaps.

You step back, holding up a hand. “You’re both exhausting.”

They fall silent, tension crackling in the space between. You sigh and retreat toward your desk, letting the silence stretch long enough for your pulse to calm.

Finally, you speak, not looking up:

“If you want something from me, try honesty. Not theatrics. And definitely not insults disguised as affection.”

There’s a long beat.

Then, Solari places something gently on the desk—a polished quill, impossibly old, gleaming with celestial ink.

“For your work,” they say softly, eyes lingering.

Azarion scoffs—but then walks over and sets down a small, flame-warmed pendant, shaped like a tooth from some long-dead beast. “To keep you safe when I’m not around.”

You blink.

They glare at each other again, then both look at you, waiting.

The Archive is still. Even the enchanted scrolls don’t dare move.

You don’t choose. Not yet.

Instead, you pick up your quill, twirl it between your fingers, and smirk just a little. “Well. At least you’re learning to speak my language.”

And as they both stand there—frustrated, enchanted, and completely wrapped around you—you return to your book.

For now.

..

.

[freaky-flawless]

POV: You and your Ghoulfriends have wildly different vibes for Valentines Day

[ronkeyroo]

ᴛɪʟʟ 𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ᴜꜱ ᴘ ᴀ ʀ ᴛ

[chez-cinnamon]

Remembered I actually have sonas and now I'm revisiting old sketches to refine lmao

I'm so fucking tired bro lmaooooo

[qwertzze]

Lots of loose magma doodles !! ^^