#ofc the primal beast of destruction will like destruction man
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qualityrain · 4 months ago
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Im gonna have to ocfy them like crazy and think of jpn names for them
did i tell u guys i have a purse owner 5 athenyo 主明 au……
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drippiesfm · 2 months ago
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TASK 001: INTRODUCTION ⸻ DARIO LUNA
( drogon / damian priest, forty-five, cisgender man, he/him )  Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that DARIO LUNA is an MOTORBIKE MECHANIC that works in SECTOR 7. According to the file, they’re a mutant with the power of DRAGON PHYSIOLOGY + METAL MANIPULATION. That must be why they’re COMPASSIONATE and FRIGHTENING. If you ask me, they remind me of ❝ the way the metal curls at the touch like reshaping liquid thoughts, "you've got garlic in your soul ⸺ you have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile" & metallic scales shimmering like chainmail ❞ They are affiliated with RUST & RUIN.
PINTEREST — PLAYLIST — INTRO ( COMING SOON ) —STATS
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
character name: dario luna
nickname (s): drogon, lbr
face claim: drogon / damian priest
mutation status: gen ii
birthday: april 2
sexuality: bisexual undertaker
moral alignment: true neutral
occupation: motorbike mechanic
work sector: sector 7.
affiliation: rust & ruin / the biker gang
3 positive traits: protective, courageous, instinctive
3 negative traits: aggressive, jealous, unpredictable
𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
gender: cisgender man / amab / male
height: 6′ 5″
markings: scorch marks along his forearms, and adorning the many muscles on that man. lots of muscle veins, guyliner ( it looks natural, okay), myriad tattoos & calloused hands
tattoos: everything damian priest has on his body
piercings: none
decorum: purple bandana, sleeveless shirts, choker with family sigil, leather vest/ jacket - all black most of the time, a lot of metal / chains, spikes, bulky rings, bracelets and necklaces. he also wears boots that do the jangle ( spurs )
scent: smoldering amber and black pepper
zodiac: aries
primary vice: loyalty
primary virtue: wrath
trope: the dragon, the protector, the reluctant lover, the gentle giant, the beast within, primal instincts, the one man army, the underdog, the wild spirit, the badass with a good heart
inspiration: this gif but also sandor clegane ( GOT ), toph ( atla ), obviously, red eyes black metal dragon ( yu gi oh ) , gajeel redfox ( that anime juwy said ), magneto but only in powers, and ofc drogon ( GOT )
residence: the skies lbr, but also sometimes with renato to make sure he's safe 
hobbies: metalworking / forging / blacksmithing, cooking ( puerto rican food ) / grilling, motorbike mechanic-ing, brawling / street fights, dragon flying, sleeping ( in a cozy nest or random lairs ), seeking a mate, breathing fire at targets, sunbathing
habits: destructive outbursts, overprotectiveness, aggression toward strangers, protecting his territory, self-sufficiency, protecting the vulnerable, brutal honesty, fighting for what’s right, self-reflection, quick to anger ( violence ), isolation ( emotional detachment ), grudge-holding ( obsessive vengeance )
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questionnaire:
how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement?
better than his sister ( ren's mom ) did. she left first finding solace in a different settlement. dario tried his best to visit up until their big fight™ he has been determined to find her ( flying around / scouting for a semblance of her despite not speaking for 14ish years ) but he never was able to find her face in a sea of bodies. he regrets not leaving when she did, perhaps if he had, then she'd be here and not lost. otherwise, sol city is fine.
do they trust the council’s leadership? why or why not?
no as a part of the motor gang rust and ruin, he doesn't trust the council to look out for the forgotten, the lost and the less fortunate. under min's leadership, he thinks there is a fighting chance to help justice take its course.
if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn’t, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not?
the profession chose him, with his metal working / metal manipulation, but he does not hate it, nor does he find it taxing. working with his hands is better than using his brain or having to think to make a living. because of his metal manip work comes easy.
what’s one object that they always keep on their person?
a purple bandana that is used to keep his hands clean from oil and grease while being a motorbike mechanic.
questionnaire ( mutant vers ):
what is your character’s ability (or abilities)?
drawing from their dragon-like physiology, they have enhanced agility, dexterity, and heightened senses, allowing for swift, precise movement and stealth in any environment. their sharp night vision and keen senses—smell, hearing, and tracking—enable them to navigate dark terrain and locate targets from a distance. in combat, their ability to manipulate metal gives them an edge. they can shape, bend, and forge metal with precision, creating weapons, barriers, and traps.
are they gen i or gen ii?
gen ii
what can your character do? what are their strengths?
dario is typically always the muscle of the group, combining dragon-like strength, agility, and durability with metal manipulation. his enhanced senses, including flight and tracking, make him highly effective in any environment. dario can shape and control metal with precision—creating weapons, barriers, and traps. his physical prowess, combined with his ability to manipulate metal, makes him the go-to for heavy combat and problem-solving, whether it's taking down enemies or protecting his team.
what can’t they do? what are their weaknesses?
while his dragon-like physiology grants him strength and durability, he’s not invincible. his body, though resilient, can still be injured by enough force or magical attacks, and his reliance on physical power sometimes leaves him at a disadvantage against opponents who outmaneuver or outthink him. his primal instincts can also cloud his judgment, especially in high-stress situations, making him impulsive and prone to rushing into battles without considering all the risks.
finally, his emotional attachment to his allies can be a double-edged sword. his protective instincts can sometimes lead him to overextend himself or make rash decisions to keep others safe, which can put him—and the group—at greater risk.
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littlefreya · 4 years ago
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Prince Of Darkness
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Summary: There'll be no escape tonight, the devil always gets what he desires.
Pairing: Devil!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person pov)
Word count: 6k
Warnings: 18+, DARK! NonCon, kidnapping, stalking, breeding, exhibitionism, loss of virginity, supernatural stuff, sex in a cathedral, mention of heaven and hell. Please proceed with caution. 
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own
A/N: I have put a lot of effort into this story, and I’m really anxious af. We all like to see August as a demon, but I decided to go all the way... And I’m nervous at your response and going to die after hitting submit. So bye.
Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira​, for support, brainstorm and beta. And to @crimsonrae​ and @wondersofdreaming�� who held my hand. 
Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤
Title: Prince of Darkness
Blood painted the streets, courtesy of the blinding scarlet lights that danced upon gravel and tar before dwindling into darkness. The soft, beaming glow pulsed with the muffled beats of a monotonous song that played inside the luxurious nightclub. Like thundering war drums, it rumbled in the ears of the elegant man who stood along the shadows. 
Leaning against the cement, he took a sip from a glass of spiced Bordeaux and brushed an index finger over his thick moustache to wipe away misguided droplets of wine. 
‘How could anyone enjoy this abomination?’ He wondered with a guttural groan, never quite grasping this electronic noise thing; but then again August was older than this music, and his tastes far exceeded cheap and trivial antics. He was a man driven by the appetite for destruction and forbidden delights, and tonight, he was finally about to obtain both. After decades of anticipation, the succulent fruit was ready to be plucked. 
Oh, what an intoxicating and delicious mist his unsuspecting beloved emanated, setting his heart aflame with her sheer ripeness.  
‘It’s been so long, so painfully long.’ 
Time had lost its meaning as he waited, curving and swerving into a stream of an infinite river flowing with decay and death. 
But as the old saying went: all haste comes from the devil. 
So the man lingered against the wall, a sparkle enkindled and crackled in his eyes, morphing into black wells whilst the waves of her honey-liqueured ambrosia grew pungent, seeping through his airways and sinking in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revelling in the sound of harsh tapping heels that echoed louder with every step until she came summoned into the naked wilderness of the city street. 
‘Beautiful and innocent as the garden of Eden. Of course, of course...’
The stranger scrutinised the young woman with another sip from his wine and a bite of great intrigue - but stoicism and silence, for now, were his most valuable allies. 
Clad in a lithe black dress and a stylish leather jacket to keep herself warm from the chill autumn breeze, she fished for the mobile device in her purse while distress washed her wrinkling brow. Illuminated by the bright screen, her face sulked as for the seventh time in the last 30 minutes, her attempt to find an Uber bore no success whatsoever. 
Was there something about tonight that all drivers were kept occupied, or had her luck simply run dry? 
Showing her face to the moonlit sky, she sighed in great frustration. This must have been fate’s retribution to a mindless bad decision; she should have left with her friends, but staying alone to fruitlessly catch the eye of the uncaring bartender seemed more significant as the buzz of alcohol dimmed any ray of logic. Now deep into the night, walking home alone didn’t appear to be the most sympathetic solution, yet it occurred to her that there wasn’t much of choice.  
“You seem distressed.” 
Equal to a dark chant sputtering words of witchcraft, the low yet incredibly soft baritone of his voice slithered from the corner and crept down her spine with icy scales. A lurching hollow flared within her gut, her neck seized by the tight grip of a serpentine phantom. 
His vibrato sounded like a voice that called her through a dream she never had before; despite the unsettling arctic spasm gyrating through her shaky limbs, it lured her to return a stare and meet the cryptic face behind the seducing chant. 
Two sharp glaciers glimmered at her as the stranger sauntered into the penumbra, momentarily lit by another flash of neon red that broke onto his face and highlighted his ethereal features. Her lips drew open, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as a shiver ran through her. To say that the stranger was handsome would be an understatement, as it almost seemed as if he was ‘designed’ by a sculptor - carved cheeks led a path to slightly pouted lips, and a stark, dimpled chin was shadowed by dark stubble. His chocolate-brown hair was elegantly combed to the side, with a couple of large lustrous locks gently nestling over his brow.
Though it wasn’t his good looks that left her riddled with prickly goosebumps, but the unprecedented magnetic haul that made her feel as if she was physically drawn toward this mysterious man. 
Frightened by the unbidden reaction of her own body, she quickly retreated to gawk at the phone and provided no answer to his inquiry. A strange yearning to submit grew between her clenching thighs, a primal response to his striking looks and charms. 
But she killed the seed before it set roots in her flesh. 
‘They said Ted Bundy was charming as well…’ she mused. Frivolous as she wanted to be, getting murdered was undoubtedly not among her plans tonight. 
Revelling in her silent reply with an arched brow, he tilted his head when a blinding flicker abruptly caught his keen eye. Kissed by the pale moonlight’s beam, a small silver cross rested upon her collarbone. His sharp fangs begged to peek with sardonic amusement, but he kept his lips clamped, not wishing to scare her too soon. 
There was to be plenty of that later...
“May I offer you my help, sweetling?”
Threading his long fingers between the smooth stem and clasping them around the bowl, he lowered the glass to the side of his hip, dragging the girl’s unwilling eye to the healthy bulge in his groin. 
Her lips drew open as a surge of staggering heat flushed at her apex. 
It seemed enormous... 
“Name’s August, like the emperor, but you can call me whatever your heart desires...”
Embers burnt at her cheeks; in her belly, the odd mystical calling continued weaving at her core in an urge to accept whatever it was he had to offer. Her eyes warred to tear her gaze away from his nether region as her lashes fluttered to meet the abysmal glance that bestowed both frost and fire through her tendons. 
There was something archaically familiar about this man as if she knew him before the days had names. Yet she swore, it was the first time she ever saw his striking face. 
“I can take you wherever you need to go.” 
Breath laced with wine titillated her nostrils as the words spilt from his lips, whilst another crimson ray broke upon the marble of his face. Never had he urged, but instead suggested with a tongue soaked with honey. Still, a blazing aura of danger encircled him. And even though the very natural fear of walking home alone grappled her, it still seemed like a much better plan than entrusting her life to a stranger who was twice her size. 
Deciding to keep her tongue knotted, she turned and began striding away. ‘Best not to engage him,’ she thought, but once she moved past his bulky figure, her heart suddenly picked up its pace and her legs refused to function as if they no longer belonged to her. 
Seconds stretched into eternity. The thought that this civilised savage will assail her and drag her into the night scratched at the back of her head. But the worst of it was the simmering throb. Unforgiving, like gathering storm clouds, it thundered the closer she walked by him and then gradually died out as she finally managed to move away and free herself from this invisible bond. 
Savouring the final drop of wine, August watched amused as the frightened little lamb quickly oscillated on her feet, scampering into the horrors offered by the dark. It was funny how fear made animals act so heedlessly and rush straight into the burning heart of peril. 
A toothy grin peaked his chiselled cheeks. Always the gentleman, he shifted from the concrete, discarding the glass carelessly to shatter on the sidewalk. His sinew stretched in a relaxed ripple of an apex predator before he straightened both vest and jacket and stroked his thick moustache. 
Though her heavenly fragrance still soaked the air, the girl was already gone from normal eyesight. It was a pity to see her leave, yet there was no need for him to rush.
There was never really a choice for her. 
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Strangely, the night kept growing unnaturally darker. A great ocean of blackness and crystalised stars spread from above, casting looming shadows across the tall buildings that resembled a maw filled with rotten teeth. The tepid wind that blew between the vast concrete monoliths was nothing but the breath of a mythical beast intoning her name through the shadows.
Clawing at her forearms, she meandered through the inert street with a wary eye. Desolate neon signs flickered hauntingly, bequeathing a vibrant beacon of dread over the shimmering, onyx road. Not a living soul was in sight as if the world descended into stillness, dominated by an eerie, dead silence save for the harsh echo of her hasty heels. And yet, the long path felt anything but lifeless. With every step landed on the ground, she could sense the movement beneath the surface: swarming vile things, slippery and scaled. Unseen by the human eye, they hissed dirty little secrets and slithered with sinister hunger, drizzling down their fangs. 
‘You can already feel me inside you, can’t you sweetling…’ Remaining hidden, he had to admit that watching the little lamb leap shivering into the slaughter has been somewhat of foreplay.
A veil of fumes emitted from her parted lips. The air became colder, summoning a terrifying truth that made her lungs clench around the black void that abruptly filled them with the notion that maybe... maybe… that chill, liquid-like thing that threatened to touch her ankle wasn’t just in her crazy imagination.
There was something out there, something undeniably familiar. This unusual gust of wind brushing at her nape has accompanied her since she could remember herself, an unsettling breeze bidding that evil lurked between the creases, holding its sinewy fingers clasped together while waiting for her to answer his hushed calling.
‘And once you finally answer, there is no turning back…’ 
Fear gnawed its frosty fangs at her bones, puncturing tiny painful cavities that were needles in her flesh. Tonight, of all nights, the same hazy feeling became stronger than ever before. Deep inside, she knew she would meet her end. Pressing the oily pads of her fingers at the sharp corners of her pendant, she inhaled and chanted a prayer, refusing to succumb to the noxious malice when a frozen pin pierced her heart.
Like the lark calling on the dawn, an unbidden chant carried her name.
Drenched with frigid sweat, she exhumed a shuddering breath, praying to God that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her ears. 
‘The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.’
Indeed in the darkness, leered the beast. All teeth and malicious glee, August moved from one shadow to another, feasting on the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of her harrowing terror and unveiled desire. If only she knew the trail her scent left for him to follow - he could smell her from miles away. 
The little flower between her legs began blooming the moment their entities finally encountered one another, and it was his ancient name her dew had dripped for.  
‘My sweet little thing, tonight I will finally grant you a purpose...’ 
Like a hound awakened from a deep slumber, he flexed his bulging muscles and tailed her in utter silence. The same spell that burnt in her core seethed the blood gathering in his ardent loins. Since the dawn of humankind, he had more women than any other man on this earth, yet none has evoked such hunger in him. 
He would have eaten her alive and torn her to shreds if only he didn't have bigger plans for her.
Still hidden by the unnatural night, August stalked from behind, the blaze of his enkindling burn licking her path as he crept further to ensnare his prey. He wished she could see herself through his own flaring glance, how beautiful she was with tears of despair rolling down the tender slope of her cheeks. 
His beloved girl; his, by ancient law. Spirited as a rageful tempest, she insisted on escaping her prophesied fate. Muscles and bones strove against the panic that turned her boiling blood frigid. But no power, physical nor divine could revoke this otherworldly attraction that bound her to him. His bidding could never be undone and as much as his blood relished from the thrill of the chase, it was time to put an end to this dance and seal their union. 
Appearing from a stygian haze of a spectral nightmare, the beast drew his claw to grasp the fleeting girl’s shoulder.
The world froze along with the scream that died in her throat. Cold, slippery wet, the phantom serpents slinked around her ankles and held on to the ground as the thing behind her bit his nails into her collarbone. His touch was no ghost, but as real as the quiet moon that voyeured her fate from above and did nothing. A wretched gasp of anguish shuddered through her airways as his fingers stalked forth to cinch at her neck. 
His grip was tighter than the icy finger of death, yet its caress was the sensual lick of a gossamer tongue. 
It was almost as if he worshipped her. 
Shadows befell her as the assailant leaned close, wafting a mist of intoxicating fumes scented of poisonous elixirs and an ancient forest that laid deep between the veils of the underworld, hiding forbidden mysteries that none dared speak of. Seeping through her orifices, it stung her eyes and raked remorseful tears. 
“Please…” she broke into sobs, shaking her head at the dawning of her fate.
The man inhaled deeply. Though she could not see him, the joyful malice that danced on his pleased breath roared in her ears.
“Do not fear me.” The sonorous rumble caressing her ear was hardly a surprise in its familiarity.  It was him, the handsome bewhiskered gentleman from earlier. But of course, it was always him: the whisper in the dark, the slithering things moving beneath the tepid ground, and the smell of burning pyres. 
But who the hell was he?!
As if he read her mind, his hand twisted around her nape and with a careful sway, turned her to face him. The voice inside her head warned her over and over again not to look at him; yet the temptation was too great, peeling her eyes open to stare at the thing that made her heart drop to her gut.
Vast, raven wings spread from each side of an Adonis figure, their intimidating length denying her widened eyes to look at anything but the dark god that soared tall in front her. No, not a god, a devil. A pair of small golden horns peeked from the mane of long curls, and the heavenly icy gaze she remembered from earlier had melted into an abysmal lake of fire.
He was beautiful.
He was monstrous.
And just like that, she descended from the earth, swept into a thick swamp of darkness that swallowed her whole. Never letting so much as her feet kiss the ground, August scooped her into his strong arms. Peering down upon her, he broke into a delightful grin, already enamoured with his delicate new bride. The pang of lust tingled in his groin, though despite the raging need to claim her now, it was her screams he desired more than all as he would consummate their eternal marriage. 
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Wicked tongues of fire licked up the shallow air, casting a faint amber glow into the abominable sombre of a vanishing nightmare. Shy as feral nymphs, the bursting sparks ascended melancholily, whispering tales of perishing days that fell to harmony with a strange mumbling chant. Still locked in a void of unconsciousness, the fallen girl shifted with disquiet, her hands restlessly clutching at a virginal silk gown that covered her body. 
Vaguely remembering a horrifying dream of a demonic entity, she woke with a sudden electric jitter. A peal of breathless pants pushed through her heaving chest before she slumped into the intense relief one experiences from a brush with either death or a ghastly fantasy. 
“Thank God…” she whispered with a fist pressed to her breast.
Yet, something was amiss. The low vocal melody continued despite her state of clarity, tangled with the eerie presence of a hundred cutting glares that stabbed her crawling spine. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings. 
The blood drained from her face.
Swaying like shadowy wraiths stood men cloaked in black velvet hoods. Tears of milky boiling wax trickled from the candles held by their stringy fingers, yet they didn’t seem to flinch as the burning rivulets seared their flesh. Their hollow eyes were fixated upon her while words of a dark sacrament sputtered from their lips and reverberated through the endless archways and ribbed vaults that towered above them. 
Her trembling muscles were briskly stifled under the unsettling realisation of her whereabouts - a cathedral, a thousand years old if not more. Burning torches lit crumbling pillars and statues of monstrous winged creatures that encircled them from every niche, their malicious shadows dancing upon dusty obsidian bricks. Unglazed windows were barred by black iron, the beautiful floral shapes preventing any means of escape. 
Only the fractured ceiling held a cheap shred of hope, as a vast rupture of broken stone exposed her to the scarred carmine wolf-moon.
If only she had wings…
Bones rattling beneath her crawling flesh, she sat upon the hard surface with wells of despair. Her hands clutched around the edge of the bed, only to be kissed by the sharp corners that pierced the delicate flesh. Hissing with pain, she lifted her arms and stared below at what appeared to be a midnight-black marble creased with golden veins and saplings-like patterns. 
It was beautiful, just like the creamy gown that covered her body.  
“Do you like it, bride?” 
Rising from the crowd like a flame among charred coals, appeared her handsome abductor. Suitable to a true evil prince, a long red cloak enrobed his broad, sturdy form, the velvet hem trailing behind him like a thick river of blood while he marched forward with no haste in his dauntless mien. Human once again, August offered the most endearing grin; two profound dimples embellished his scruffy cheeks, and his eyes shone brighter than a frozen sea. 
Yet in her sullen gaze, he was nothing but a monster.
Abruptly enraged and driven by pure instinct, she jumped off the marble and paced backwards. Tears of anger and fright rimmed her swollen lids and her bare feet nearly collided as she shook her head at August who was neither impressed nor concerned by this foolish protest. 
“You stay the fuck away from me!!!” She warned with a scream and hastily turned away. 
Lost in some trance, the praying mob never stirred, granting the girl a fair chance to escape the bewhiskered man who was still several strides away. Her feeble legs made three to four steps when her muscles swiftly turned to stone, and her stomach lurched. 
‘No! It couldn’t be! How?!’
Curls shining like precious coils of onyx, August emerged in front of her, continuing his relaxed gait as if this was a natural occurrence. His bright icicles melted into malicious dark pools of twisted desire, and his tongue briefly laved his plump lips at the sight of pure disbelief that cascaded over her face. He could feel right under her skin, hear the thrumming heart that both chilled and fumed for him. Further beyond her thoughts, his betrothed yearned to be defiled and torn open by him. 
It was her destiny, whether she liked it or not. 
Still she fought, so ferocious and defiant, flinching away from his attempts to seize her. It was almost comical to watch her deny him, knowing that her fate would be no different; she will spread her legs and submit to his conquest. And yet, her battle was immensely appealing; what better bride to the dark lord than a woman who breathed fire.
“Who are you?!” She cried, her trembling voice rising with panic and her cheeks soaking with tears, “What do you want from me?!”
August's face was devoid of mercy, her whimpering hisses did nothing to deter him and only further increased the appetite of the deprived wolf that circled in his gut. With a wring of his wrist, his fingers snapped at her elbow, hauling her against his rock-hard chest with such might her heels hovered above the ground. 
Writhing in his grip she flung her hands at his face, clawing streams of crimson to trickle down his cheeks. The notion of hurting this vicious man brought somewhat of a sick joy; but her onslaught died at once, and her mouth fell agape as his skin healed with not even a trace of injury. 
“Oh God, what are you?!” She shuddered. 
Still holding her elbow hostage, his free hand travelled to the hem of the white gown, the long, perverted fingers twisting around the fabric before yanking it off at once. A resounding rip echoed through the tall arches, causing the chanting choir to halt their susurrations at once. 
All eyes were afloat as the cold air kissed her skin. In vain, she attempted to cover herself only to be felled by the restraints of August’s grasp. 
“God?...” The man finally spoke, his melodic voice ending with a sonorous hum that sprouted through her arteries like a deadly toxin. Not less poisonous, his gaze trailed down her form, worshipping the very sights of his delightful prize. 
“Not God, but once I was an angel,” he suggested and leaned down to inhale her skin with a gratified growl before he flicked his wide tongue at her chest.
A groan of approval emitted from his lips, the sheer coat of sweat that layered her bosom was soaked of freshly brewed fear, his most favourite savour. His wet, velvety snake swept the sweet-briny wetness and licked further down her breasts, twirling around the erect nipple.
Unintended, she moaned. A river of delights rushed between her grinding thighs.
“No!”
Wrongful, unwanted bliss awoke in her. She felt desecrated and allured at once. Her fickle body deceived, mistaking this vile conquest as consensual. And the more August took, the more she desired; her dutiful womb demanded to consummate this bond, almost as if the beast had bewitched her a long while ago, embedding his essence in the marrow of her bones. 
August grinned against her skin, the scent of her arousal fresh in his nose while his lips travelled to kiss down her sternum and the slope of her torso. His thick whiskers left a trail of fluttering butterflies.
“Have sympathy, my love. I had built my own realm and waited in the forlorn abyss. Empires fell and worlds disintegrated into ashes while I waited for thou,” he explained and clutched the cheek of her behind in his claw, squeezing it possessively. “I have longed for your touch since the day your ancestor promised you to me, little lamb. A hundred years’ worth of waiting for the bargain to reach its end, and for you to finally be ripe.” 
The beast pressed one last languid kiss below her navel, a guttural hum exuded in between his lips, huffing hot against her belly. Slowly he rose to his full height, towering above his helpless victim who hugged her arms to cover her naked body and watched her nightmare unfold once more. Cold wind chilled her damp cheeks as August flung the blood-red cloak and exposed his naked figure before her.  
He was massive, a masculine build fit for a warrior angel, covered with thick bulging muscles and dark hair. Lips parted, she forgot herself, gawking in awe and allowing her gaze to trail down to his unapologetically monstrous cock. Firm and throbbing, it dripped with hunger, urging to find release inside her clenching cavern.
She didn’t even know a man could be this vast, but alas, he was no man at all.
It was at that moment when blackest wings spread before her that realisation finally struck through like a blunt hammer to the back of her head. Covering her mouth she cowered away, her exposed back hitting the raised altar behind her. 
August was no man nor god, but Lucifer himself. 
Seeing the hope die in her eyes, the devil sneered. 
“No, no, no! This can’t be real! This isn’t real!!!” She yelled, pathetic little hiccups sputtering from her lips.
August tilted his head, giving a scornful pout and scoffed with amusement. “Am I not?” He asked as he lifted an arm to flick his fingers, summoning two of the hooded servants to approach the dais. Their eyes were soulless gems embedded to a grey face that was cracked like a broken eggshell. 
“I am real, beloved, as real as the child you will conceive me tonight.” 
Shrills of terror flew through the great hole in the ceiling. Kicking and screaming, she fought as the men seized her arms and dragged her to the altar, forcing her flat down and holding her arms to prevent her from escaping. They never blinked at the ferocious war she waged against them, though an impish smile slowly possessed their faces as their master strode forward. 
“Sweet little lamb,” August chanted, enamoured with his fiery bride while he sauntered by the edge of the altar. His Adonis body golden in the candlelight, his fingers squeezed and pumped the ravenous demon that hung heavy between his legs. The twinge in her womb rose in response, a low roar thrumming as it yearned to succumb to its unbridled purpose. Sheen, the arousal trickled between her kicking legs and onto the smooth stone, making her cheek flame.
Much to August’s pleasure. 
“Our son will burn this world to cinders,” he promised and snaked his fingers at her ankles. Calmly deflecting her attempts to kick against him, he dragged her toward him until her knees folded over the edge and spread between his thighs. The platform was in the perfect height, positioning her delicious Eden at the height of his blessed demon. 
“You will make an excellent mother.”
Her entire body shook, her cunt clenching along her sobs in both defence and beguiling need as August leaned in and grazed the silky pink crown between her wet petals. She begged he wouldn’t be able to invade her, but her prayers fell to deaf ears.    
“Please don’t do this to me! I will do anything… please!” She wailed a bargain, still trying to escape the servants’ grip and looking at him pleadingly, “I… I...haven’t been with a man!”
“Oh I know…” August beamed and stroked himself back and forth between her engorged lips. Vamping flames tingled at her flesh, her core foolishly squeezing around nothing in demand for this wretched monster to defile her.  
“You’ve kept yourself for me, didn't you? I have waited for you too, for centuries even, but now our waiting has ended, and I can finally love you.”
With one brutal thrust, he breached through the gates of her sacred haven, corrupting her purity and ripping her open with the elegance of a savage. 
Exasperated bats fluttered their wings over the red moon at the sound of her pained howl. Eyes flared to the bleak sky above; the girl watched them in a daze, disbelieving the blazing demon that scorched her from inside as he nestled himself between her resisting gates with no intention to cease. 
In his villainy, August pushed further. Stunned thunders of ecstasy erupted from his lips, all to humiliate her along with the dark minions who circled the altar to pervertedly witness this sacrilegious ritual in which their master ravaged the unwilling maiden. Ignoring her body’s vehement protest, he forced himself unfathomably deep, only stopping until the head of his cock kissed the gateway of her cervix.
Crystalised tears rolled down her temples and stained the cold marble beneath her body. Slit impossibly sore, she twitched and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling of being invaded by another entity. Her once protected realm was now under the domain of a ruthless prince, and he took no prisoners and granted no mercy nor care at her vain endeavours to push him out. 
He would never stop. He would have her again and again until her sacred little womb would be plentiful with his seed. 
“Tight,” he blurted out in a blissful huff and reached his talons to bite into her quaking thighs. Spreading her wider, he hooked his hands below her knees, moulding her into a vessel to be fulfilled. Arctic orbs glazed down her naked figure, his plump lips cooing at her aching whimpers. The taut and hairy muscles of his gut flexed as he carefully withdrew his vicious cock, coated in the crimson sorrow of her maidenhood.
Hollow pain throbbed in her empty cunt as he suddenly abandoned her. Distressed and overwhelmed, she hoped he would stay out, yet her traitorous body coveted his return in a false faith that it would ease the fervid twinge that soared to her belly and even burnt in her breasts.
It was far from true.
No less vigorous than before, August plunged back inside her, stretching her again, shaping her as his own as she yipped and struggled to escape. His head threw back with a roar of divine pleasure, feasting at the thrill of her dauntless veils wrapping around him like a succulent flower. For a moment there, he wondered who preyed on who. Her concupiscent little cove sucked him so wantonly it threatened to swallow his raging cock. 
‘But of course, every virgin is destined to become my whore.’
Hot and heavy, his shaft seized the void that had always been inside her, their heaving organs collided in euphoric bliss like two broken shards that were lost for decades and finally pieced back together. And even though she seared with every jerk or shift he made, the impassioned flames licked at the seams of her twitching cunt in waves of ache and foreign desperation. 
“No…” she whispered, shame singeing her throat as the little pesky sparks enkindled where the devil had violated her. Vision blurry, she gazed at him utterly mystified. Part of her warred to stoke the fire that screamed heresy, while the other begged to yield to her demise.   
As August pulled away again and thrust harder, a breathless moan tore from her lips.    
A cutting grin radiated onto his face. “It feels so good inside you,” he sang and slid one hand to stroke all the way down from her sweat-ridden thighs to her belly, feeling the movement of his cock with every push and shove. 
He was taunting her, yet she couldn’t care less. Over the cinders of pain and virtue, a garden began to bloom. With every abysmal stroke of his swelling shaft, she could feel green saplings and coy vines growing within her uterus—soft, beautiful tendrils stalked through her arteries, sprouted through her cove, and engulfed his swelling demon as well.
She was no longer burning but becoming alive. Pained cries suddenly evolved into asphyxiation of bliss. Beyond her realisation, she undulated her hips in the desire to endure each of his wet claiming thrusts. Her spine coiled against the surface, further allowing him easier passage to nourish the wilderness that continued spreading through her blood. 
Noticing the change in her, approving groans rumbled in his throat; his little bride was growing tighter around his demon, her quivering lips and fluttering lashes the image of true Elysium. It was not long before he would plant his seed in her fertile lush. Her cunt milked and suckled around him, demanding to be bred by the devil. 
“Yes, my love! Give in to me! Give in to your primal sin!” August urged, enhancing the rhythm until he was thrusting into her like a battering ram, the sinful elixir of their union smearing on his groin and dripping down her rump. “Descend with me!” 
In her delirium she witnessed magical nightshades and sinewy stalks growing amidst the gritty bricks, encompassing the ominous cathedral with bright colours. 
It was paradise on earth, given to her by the unearthly rapturous joy of having this demon violate her, slamming harder with growing frustration until his thick girth ripped through the last threads of her self-preservation and that which she tried so hard to deny erupted through her clenching core.
Euphoria. 
For a lingering moment, she had wings of her own, pale as precious pearls and lustrous stars. Tingling waves of ethereal white heat burst at her seams, purifying her as she flew above the cathedral, and watched their ungodly union from above. But her wings suddenly caught aflame and before she knew it, she crashed onto the earth with a secondary, more violent climax. 
The beast’s roars erupted into a brutal thunder, causing the sturdy pillars of the cathedral to quake and crack like thin glass. With all his might, he clutched her thighs and hauled her against him, slamming his swollen cock deep into her belly and releasing his smouldering, milky essence until it seeped from her sleek. August’s wings flew open as he found his own rapture, blazes following through and consuming the ancient hall. 
This was no longer a hallucination. 
This was Inferno.
Still radiating with orgasmic glow, she screamed horrified as everything around them vehemently burnt to coals. Even the soulless servants crumbled into dust, accepting their fate without so much of a yip. The fire raged and died within seconds, leaving nothing but broken pillars and ashen smoke.  
Shortly, the tepid air of night caressed her naked skin as they remained alone in the ruins of what was once an ominous cathedral. Still buried in her viscera, August broke into a low, stretching groan of relief which made her immediately return her eyes to him. Shame rose bitter in her throat and new fresh rivulets trickled on her cheeks.  
After all that he had done to her, she could see nothing in him but a beautiful monster.
“My beloved queen,” August keened to comfort her and moved his hand to tenderly stroke her lower belly. 
A toothy smile broke upon his face, his eyes gleaming with surprise as he felt the life that had already begun growing in her angelic fortress. A son, strong and glorious as his father. For the first time in his long existence, the devil was truly elated and he vowed in that moment that he would give her much, and much more. But first, she needed to be cared for. 
Her assaulted hole convulsed with pain as he pulled himself out, leaving a trail of creamy fluids to dribble at his departure. Sniffling and shaking, she watched him bemused, as he climbed onto the altar and moved to lie beside her. Though she no longer flinched as he touched her, what was the point of it anyway? He had already destroyed her and stolen her innocent soul.  
“You make me so happy, my beloved queen,” August had murmured as he gripped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss claimed her breath, pillaging whatever left of her chastity and wit until she absentmindedly kissed back, forgetting herself as his tongue bested her will. 
When he broke away, the taste of spiced ruby wine and blood lingered in her mouth. 
“An eternity awaits us,” the devil explained as he pecked her nose and her forehead lovingly, to which she shivered - out of fright or out of want, she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
“You had made me the happiest, now give me the chance to grant the same favour, ask for anything you want in the world and it shall be yours,” he begged and wrapped her in the shelter of his strong arms to lie down with him on the smooth stone surface.
Absentmindedly, she welcomed the protection offered from his embrace and stared silently as flakes of cement broke from the remnants of the wall floated in the air around her before she opened her mouth. 
“I wish for…” 
Her whisper faded into the dark.
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*Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible or August Walker
Beautiful dividers by @firefly-graphics​
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lucienfairfucked · 4 years ago
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maybe I should have a little post explaining the salient points of Dayir and Ishan’s existence, that might be confusing for the casual viewer
and by “little post” I mean “whoops, not quite as little as I’d intended. sorry. lemme toss up a readmore after Dayir’s bit” (believe it or not, this is the short version. I can always Say More)
please feel free to ask as many questions as you like if anything is unclear or you want more info, I have no idea how any of this sounds to anyone else but me lol
Dayir, Heart of Darkness
non-combatant / defensive / support character by trade
defeats primals by absorbing their aether
does the above by virtue of an Allagan Heart (yes, exactly like the Ultima Weapon). the aether stored in eir Heart can be summoned for various purposes
originally (well, “originally”) from the Azim Steppe, so accepts “Dayir of the Steppe” as a form of address, but privately regards “Dayir of the In-Between” and “Dayir of the Prim” to be far more appropriate when it comes to place of origin
is trained in multiple varieties of dance and carries emself like it
would in some worlds be called a necromancer, or in other worlds an animancer, or in yet other worlds an avatar or a psychopomp or a shaman or a conduit. the class and job divides don’t really exist to em -- ey employ disciplines and concepts from multiple sources to achieve eir goals, and a couple of skills that frankly shouldn’t even exist
is spiritually accompanied by a todash-dwelling Qunari named Talan, whose stories of a world called Thedas tend to mesh uncannily with stories of Hydaelyn
think of an NPC, any NPC. there’s an 85% chance that they currently are or have been at some point a lover of Dayir’s (no, really) (”beast tribes” aside although there’s probably an Amalj’aa or two--) (most dragons also excepted) (I said most)
Ishan, Hound of Darkness
a walk-in from the Lifestream (allegedly) who found himself bound to the body of a minor Ishgardian lordling who’d gone missing from Carteneau and was assumed dead
(the name assigned to said body was Seraphin Arnaud Laurent Augureau. Ishan never uses it and wants nothing to do with that man’s life. this all becomes a huge point of contention during the HW arc, as you can imagine)
Ishan’s eyes don’t match because of the soul switcheroo, so one of his eyes looks like the body’s (hazel) and the other eye is just Ishan’s (blue-grey)
has memories of living on the Thirteenth World, before the botched Rejoining, and on his belated way to the First he is given a remnant of this voided planet, an eldritch black orb that is now a fuckin loaded Chekhov’s gun that I have to figure out a use for (probably around 6.0 sometime I’ll figure it out)
Ishan does not join Dayir on the First until the confrontation with Hades in Amaurot, because the magic the Exarch was using to port them over scared the fuck out of him and he found a way to put up wards against it. it was a struggle but eventually he shoved his fear aside to go find his bestest dearest companion Dayir and punch the Exarch in the teeth
extremely combative. (Elidibus has a lot to say about Ishan’s penchant for destruction, but Elidibus can also shut the hell his mouth.) daggers are his preference, although he’s not always particular and is known to get real creative in a pinch
hates Garlemald more than anything (don’t even mention the whole Zenos business, he’s still embarrassed and will slice your achilles tendons just for saying anything)
(in fact we’re not gonna discuss the whole Zenos business at all right now. even I’m embarrassed)
(like. fuck. when evil just looks and sounds so good)
important canon-divergence notes
Haurchefant Greystone’s wholly unnecessary demise is prevented by the fact that while Ishan was the WoL that was gunning for the archbishop, Dayir was the WoL that sensed Ser Zephirin doing his thing and popped a powerful aethershield over eir boyfriends
Moenbryda’s sacrifice was unnecessary as Dayir’s store of aether is far greater than the average dude’s and ey had no problem conjuring a fat aetherblade blunt for Nabriales to smoke. she persists as a Scion to vex her childhood bestie forevermore
Au Ra are the result of a successful Allagan experiment. this technically includes Dayir, but the experiment that led to em was a bit different and so is eir existence on Hydaelyn. Dayir is culturally an Au Ra but biologically more Allagan (and draconic, ofc) than anything else
Dayir and Ishan are both Azem shards, but obviously skewed towards particular facets of Azem’s personality -- Ishan represents Azem’s Martian energy, their righteous anger and passion for change; Dayir represents their depthless joy and passion for life. Dayir and Ishan’s character flaws are basically results of being a bit unbalanced in their personality traits this way (like how Dayir is capricious and easily led to despair, and Ishan is aggressive and has a hard time connecting with others)
(it can be understood that they echo the spirits of Hydaelyn and Zodiark this way, as well as the Amaurotians that formed their hearts, and I bet Emet-Selch's commented on it once or twice)
they are also both possessed of godshards -- when Louisoix did his Thang, a bit of Nymeia found its way to a strange dreamy young adult in the Steppe and a bit of Rhalgr found its way to an Ishgardian who was dying on the field and was big mad about it
they do not kill Emet-Selch in a big battle. Dayir unmakes Hades at his request. being of the In-Between, though, Hades’ essential self still exists, just not on the mortal plane. he now gets to dwell in a new place of his own creation -- not the lost city of his grieving heart, but a place that is his and his alone
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captainkurosolaire · 6 years ago
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what exactly is the ferryman? with the lifestream being an indifferent and amoral natural cycle, how does one person end up with a personal chaffeur?
It’s essentially nothing just most likely a fabric of an imagination. Not everyone would be a theorist on how the life-stream properly worked or would be studiously scholars especially a gutter trash orphan that was led into the ruffian lifestyle of the seas. It’s nothing but a pirates wise tale. Just like beast tribes or others that worship a certain religion of sorts, commonly often are held by a group in principal this one selected group of pirates may be the only ones it doesn’t effect anyone else. Hallucinations and things that involved the psyche are really contorted and wild they’re often not the same in any one person people are met with traumatic events that often dissociates them or creates false personalities or spins of them. There often have been reported of some people claiming they’ve become ‘possessed’ or see the dead walking etc and in this fantasy setting its very much an authentic thing that’s already been proven with magic automatically and so high-sophisticated tech now science can’t go around achieving the answers to all the unexplained, they’d just do what Garleans do and try creating or replicating in a new stead. A ferryman is a a spiritual-belief that we all contain the death already inside us that we have something or someone of a higher supernatural plain that drifts us to where we belong to be, there are people who have seen brinks of death and seen Angels etc and things of that nature how often these tales are spun to even any ears. These things aren’t traditionally any evidently seen. People who believe in something so strongly they begin hallucinating things they actually believe they start seeing some phenomenons of that nature have even done feats or odd psychic control. The psyche and mind has proven to be the strongest creation given by all life and mankind its possibilities are proven endless. The Ferryman is not one thing. Its nothing, that is turned into something. By the belief of a man broken into insanity. Two souls split, a youthful fighting spirit that cries out in the hosts willpower. He’s create his nothingness into a spectral that has everything that death would tear and break you from the inside the pain, all the self-destruction it’d be better off to have the quick release. But he isn’t a character that controls luck or anything he just has had it, and by having the luck of the fate on his side and the companions and all the healers that have been in his encompass hes led to believe that this one entity of ‘death’ is being cheated and evaded. He’s conjuring something that’ll eventually take on another persona of him. Nothingness, silence, fearlessness. In his reality he was the one who was killing himself and making himself sick with his thoughts. He then enforced and created a means to make himself an escape from this version he was running away from with something equally as supernatural in an object aged artifact. Eventually, he’ll just become a host for the corrupted, tainted, consumed, cursed, damned. A blight for those who are the living & loved. But to say that there isn’t something catharsis about death? It’s freedom.. The ultimate freedom. That is what the pirate searches to obtain. He just doesn’t know he’s ran away from it or had fortune deny him, but again his very essence when he becomes hollowed will be to the guiding hands of those who he impacted and treasure him. And if they can’t prevent it or have the skill-sets or tools to handle it then boom, gone just like any other thing into the lifestream.It’s not a personal chauffeur, cause there’s most likely other characters or people who have spiritual issues or confining psyche breaks too. Kuro was designed for complexity. He lives in the world of piracy and chasing things that any mere regular person scoffs at, there is treasures and things unbelievable that many haven’t even begun to have the chance to describe because perhaps they don’t voyage beyond one place for long. There are Kitsunes, Primals, Twelves, Beasts Tribes things of so many variety and long range there as those gifted and blessed by Hydaelyn and chosen. The unexplained is a universal characteristic.-- Thanks for the ask anon, I actually do like these things. By no means am I saying this has to be a thing followed I am just crossing some realistic supernatural things into an already fantasy setting. This just my own spin and head-cannon side of things and if its not someones jam that's all good mane to me we all have our styles and don’t got to interact with me. I just have different stance on how I conceive the lore and between alchemy and tech, magic there is little boundaries that haven’t been already shown in the game or hints or would most likely follow real lore since a lot of this ofc came from real-world thoughts / lore or DnD thoughts which is another platform of high octane fantasy.
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