God from the machine (Seme Male Reader x BNHA)

Chapter 1

All characters in this story will be at least 18 years old so...we'll just say that hero schools look for older students who just got out of high school rather than middle schoolers, which makes more sense, but then again I'm painfully American. Hope you enjoy his design/hero costume. I really enjoyed making this even if it took me over twenty hours to create it. Also, this first chapter does a fair amount of time skips till we reach the main canon timeline, so be prepared to jump around.

Anyway, as usual this story contains: graphic depictions of mental illness, religious imagery/religious trauma, stalking, gothic elements/references to gothic literature, mentions/instances of cannibalism, sexual abuse/grooming, mentions/instances of animal death, canon typical violence, abuse of authority/religion/power, heavy lovecraftian themes, existential dread/crisis, body horror, cults, way too much symbolism, depersonalization, derealization disorder, abusive families, past neglect and physical abuse, drug use, past underage drug use, underage drinking, underage sexual activity, past suicide attempts, self-destructive behavior, homophobia, homophobic slurs, depersonalization/derealization/dissociation, self hate, self destructive behavior, mentions of codependency, unreality, emetophobia, inhuman reader, etc.

Title: Saepe creat molles aspera spina rosas.

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You cross the tundra with little care for your own wellbeing.

You can feel how your wings are freezing, still damp blood coating the leathery backs of your wings, making the two smaller sets hang awkwardly while your primary set merely itches. Ignoring the sensation, you continued on your way till the northern lights, as the humans had called them, were overhead and shining down. You knew someone was approaching, but you didn't move to attack. Why would you? He'd been the one to call you here.

"Tell me what it looks like, Asmodeus." You hummed at that, looking over your shoulder to see him standing further back. Taller than you. A more balanced frame compared to the curves and muscle you had adopted. Standing at the edge of the snow covered rock, he and his hellhounds were a contrast by design. His messy blond hair had grown out since you last met in person. Standing out against the white and golds he wore. Or the veil still covering his face.

"Do you want the colors, or something else, on this dreary walk?" He hums, approaching after the larger hound nudges him forward to avoid slipping, but the smile he has makes you snicker. "Fine. The edges look a light green while the center turns pink and purple. Reminds me of a snake den. Not quite my thing. Was there a reason you chose this place? I would've loved to show you my newest home."

"You never change, do you, Asmodeus? But there wasn't a reason for this outing. I just wanted to know if it was worth it. I mean, I never saw it when it was created, if I remember correctly...well, I was busy. Yet here we are. I never expected you to follow me."

"...don't say it like that. Make me all self-conscious. Not like I was ever gonna leave you."

"Many have said the same."

"But they aren't me."

"No, they aren't. Always so contrary, aren't you?"

"Well, at one point, it was my job." You shift ever so slightly to allow him to get even closer. "Unlike you, always the creator."

"Well, not all of us can find infinite pleasure in ripping humans apart like Satan does."

"Can't say he isn't passionate."

"Passionate? That's a nice way to put it if you ask me, but I suppose one can't complain if they wish their work to flow freely. Did you know the mortals had a phrase for something like that? Birds of a feather, they say."