#In no mood to draw proper stuff so have this

[kingpotato-kartofanschik]

Where. Where are the drawings of gatekeepers. Do I really have to make one myself???

I know that cats are their second forms, but hey. I draw whatever I want.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

trying to psych myself up to finally do oc refs by doing fandom-related refs instead: volume 1

wanted to update my yuma from whatever tf this au is so he was a bit more unique... takes inspo from a lot of different things while also trying to be its own sorta thing? which is fitting given the au ;)

bonus chibi now that i'm also figuring out how tf to do chibis lol:

[akc-g]

.

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: I Know What You Did Last Halloween [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Title: I Know What You Did Last Halloween [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: You watch a movie with your captor.

For Horrorfest request:

watching a horror movie with hawks/Keigo and him getting bored and trying to make very much unwanted advances towards reader and reader is more scared/anxious of that than the movie.

Word count: 800ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, sexual assault

The scantily clad college student on the TV screen has just watched one of her friends get butchered, and now she’s running down a seemingly endless corridor, cold sweat artfully placed on her forehead by a special effects team, hoping to escape the killer before her own guts get speared on his knife. She picks a door at random, shuts it as quietly as she can, then crouches down beside it to await her fate.

You are doing nothing so exciting.

You are simply sitting in a living room, underneath a warm blanket, a bowl of popcorn resting in between you and the pro-hero that kidnapped you.

Reflexively, now and then, your hand grabs a fistful of popcorn and shoves it into your mouth without a hint of daintiness.

Not because you’re particularly hungry, or because the movie is so engrossing you can’t be bothered to eat popcorn like a human being instead of a horse, but because the more you stuff your face, the more you can avoid talking to Hawks. Or Keigo, as he says to call him, which you sometimes do in order to avoid his bad moods.

He’s not in a bad mood now.

No–in fact–

The scantily clad college student turned sole survivor of a midnight massacre holds her manicured hand over her mouth to silence her breathing, limbs shaking as she hears the killer’s knife dragging against the hallway. “Come out, come out”--

Keigo is in a good mood. A pleasant mood. A mood that has him snuggling closer to you on the couch, hand reaching for the popcorn or–no, not for the popcorn. Hand reaching across the bowl and for your fingers, which you yank away, shoving them inside the bowl and grabbing another fistful of buttery pieces.

It’s a pathetic tactic. But one that works. Sort of. Maybe. For another minute. Because you hear Keigo sigh, feel him shift closer on the sofa, and then–

“Babe,” he says, drawing out the word. “I thought we talked about this.”

“We” didn’t talk about it, you think. He talked about it. Told you to stop being so skittish, to start acting like a proper partner, to let him touch you and kiss you without making him feel like an asshole.

But you kidnapped me, is what you should’ve said.

“Okay,” is what you did say. And he’d grinned and told you to pick out your favorite movie and you put on a slasher you used to watch all the time in college. It made you feel scared, it made you feel giddy, it was like a creepy comfort movie.

The killer stops at just the right door and the final girl, the only one out of her friends not to end up on the wrong side of a blade, looks like she’s going to be down for the count. She’ll get grabbed and gutted like the rest of them. Only when the killer opens the door, a note of triumph in his voice–only to find himself getting smacked in the face with a desperately swung desk chair. 

Keigo’s hand is not over the popcorn bowl now. Now, it is sliding underneath the blanket, where you can’t easily bat it away. Not without making him annoyed, not without the excuse of popcorn. 

There are no excuses to make when his hand finds your thigh, gives it a squeeze. It should feel warm underneath the blanket, but it’s like an icy chill descends over your skin. Goosebumps that he coos over, takes for sensitivity and not horror, spread across your legs. 

On screen, the final girl is battling for her life. She’s winning. She will win. You know this, have seen it a thousand times. 

In the living room, with Keigo’s hands creeping up your thigh and his body getting closer, setting the popcorn to the side so it doesn’t spill, you’re wishing you could do the same. 

But she–she is allowed to fight and scream and claw and give the killer a taste of his own medicine before emerging triumphant and alone. She has that freedom, despite her dead friends, despite the trauma she would no doubt endure if the film extended past the credits.

You?

You’re sitting on the couch, no popcorn between you now, as Keigo begins to press kisses to the side of your neck. Your jaw. Your mouth. 

You–

You’re stuck in your horror movie, and the killer’s call is most definitely coming from inside the house. 

[midorimooon]

pages from fiction | hawks x reader

summary - hawks discovers you read smutty manga ... about him. word count - 4k notes - some shameless smut for the new year featuring afab! reader and the birdman :) animated borders credit @/enchanthings-a warnings - smut, use of pet name, biting, teasing, oral (f!), PIV penetration, humor 18+ only!

You have a visitor… Not unwanted, just unexpected. 

It’s around noon when you return to your apartment. You only manage to kick off your shoes when you find your friend, Hawks, on your sofa. His massive wings are pinned against the cushions, his gloves, headset, and eyewear discarded on the coffee table.  

He must have entered through the balcony door, often left unlocked whenever he wanted to visit or take a break from patrol. It’s not an unusual thing to come home to, so you’re not put off by his appearance. He knows how to keep himself entertained while you’re out. Sometimes channel surfing, scrolling on his phone, or on occasion, napping on your sofa. 

Today, he seems to be in the mood to read.

You take a few steps from the door, only to stop in your tracks as your eyes zero in on the book held in his hands. 

Your good-natured greeting dies on your tongue, too shocked to process what you’re actually seeing. 

It was a mistake, an oversight on your part, but you can’t take it back now. But if you could, you would have never left that book out in the open. Because you never intended for Hawks to find the doujinshi based off of him lying around where he could find it. 

Hawks peers up, giving you a friendly onceover,  way too calm for your liking that you blurt out, “It was Mirko.” 

It was a gag gift from Mirko. In honor of April Fool’s Day that passed recently. Her sense of humor often involved teasing you for your crush on Hawks. So much, that opportunity knocked at the right time and she presented you with an explicit gift. 

“Manga?” You had raised a brow at the offering. “A joke manga?” you added, taking it without a proper glance.  

She grinned like a madwoman, urging you to give it more attention. “A niche kind of manga. Thought of you when I saw it.” 

Flipping to the front cover, blood rushed to your face, jumpstarting your pulse. 

Large, feathered wings, a bare chest, bedroom eyes that resembled your favorite Pro Hero with the very suggestive title—  

“ A Hawks in Rut ,” Hawks recites aloud, bringing you back to the present. He rises to his feet, leveling you with a mischievous gaze.  

You’re guilty, and he knows you are, because it’s the truth. Despite giving Mirko stick for the stunt, you didn’t turn down the gift. Nor did anything stop you from poring over each panel, deep into the night.  

Your mind was in overdrive, inserting yourself in the heroine’s shoes as the manga-version of Hawks ravaged every inch of her. You didn’t even know stuff like this existed. Fan-made, X-rated content of Pro Heroes for public consumption? Is this even legal? You demanded to know where Mirko got this, but her lips were sealed. 

You haven’t budged an inch, rooted to the spot by the door. Fight or flight, your mind crosses between two thoughts: snatch the manga back from Hawks or flee your own apartment.  

Hawks pays your inner conflict no mind. And if he does, then he’s being a little shit about it. Because he approaches with a casual swagger, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other still holding the manga.  

As he draws closer, your mind glitches, stuck on repeat. “It was Mirko.”

Hawks croons. “Aww, that’s cute. Giving you a manga using my likeness.”

“It was a joke,” comes your quick response. 

“What part?” Hawks tilts his head. “The gift? The story? The drawings of me naked?”

Your eyes widen, mouth floundering. “No, no, no, Hawks—no! I wasn’t—” You weren’t poking fun at him if that’s what he means. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

His voice dials down to a husk. “Oh? So, tell me, birdy…”

Any attempt you make at a rational response is futile. Because hearing that pet name, the same one used in the manga—out of Hawks’s own mouth — turns your mind into cotton. It’s a sin how much you liked it, and it was criminal to want to hear it used again and again…

However, you gather your wits before you lose them entirely, keen to know, “How much of that did you read?” 

From the amused sparkle in his eyes, it’s obvious Hawks has read more than enough. He puffs out a laugh. “Not much to ‘read’, really. Unless you mean the dialogue of...pleasure.” Another step closer and he’s haunting your space. “How much did you read?”

All of it in one sitting. Several times you tried to set the book down but couldn’t. Rather you were hooked, flipping through it, a budding warmth dampening the center of your thighs. By the end of it, you were dizzy and breathless, passing out with those lewd illustrations stamped behind your eyes. They invaded your dreams too. Hawks, nude, looming over you in bed…

“Birdy…” he singsongs, voice dripping with honey. “Lost you there for a second. Must have been a page-turner. The kind you read late at night, under the covers, maybe?”

Your pulse beats fast as he plucks your hand. “And this between your legs?” he whispers into your knuckles, warm breath turning into a soft kiss.

Without thinking, your hand reels back, incriminating yourself.

Hawks’s brows reach his hairline. “Oh…someone looks guilty. But what for?” He veers closer, until your back settles on the door. 

He takes advantage of that, planting his hand against the wood, a hairsbreadth away from your head. 

It’s only now you realize he’s not wearing his jacket. From the corners of your vision, all you see is strong, lean muscle that drags your gaze from his arm to his chest. 

You want to have some sense of decorum, but how can you?

Of course, you always knew his hero uniform was on the snug side. Intended for streamlining in the air while remaining lightweight. But you never realized just how skin-tight it was. Like the fabric was painted on. It moves with his chest, sculpting its strength, outlining every inch of him in the best way.  

Venturing a glimpse up, you’re met with a golden gaze, both predatory and beautiful, sending a shiver down your spine. 

For a long moment, he holds your stare, the intensity of it making you weak-kneed. 

“You know,” Hawks starts, flitting his attention back to the book. “Whoever drew these, they’re very creative. They did overexaggerate my eyes, however,” he laughs, turning a page. “Didn’t nail down my wingspan either. Can’t blame them. Too many feathers to draw. Not really the star of the show, right?”

Another turn of the page, the wrinkle of paper sounds like thunder.

“As for my dick…” 

He’s shameless, having way too much fun toying with you. Testing your limits, like a predator with its prey.  

He nods, contemplative, a look of appraisal. “…I’m flattered, they got something right.”

The mischief in his eyes has you averting your stare, anywhere else, only to brake at something beneath his belt.  

It’s a silhouette at first, but as you gawk further, the impossible-to-ignore bulge strains within the confines of Hawks’s pants. 

His eyes drop to his crotch, and he hums, “Speak of the devil.”

Nerves tie a knot in your throat. In classic Hawks fashion, he’s playful about it, blurring the line between seductive and casual. His serenity only leaves you more flustered as your imagination runs rampant, envisioning the details of Hawks’s cock. 

But he’s not done yet. Hawks carries on, flipping through the book once more. “This looks like a fun position. Got to be really flexible to pull this off.”

This time, he turns the manga to your sights, and you almost swoon. 

An entire, singular panel spans both pages. Hawks and the heroine on her bed, him hovering her very, very vulnerable form. Legs folded so tightly with her knees nearly touching her shoulders. And the only dialogue in the panel coming from Hawks: I’m gonna breed you like this. 

You remember drooling over that panel for so long you needed reprieve before bed. The page was even dogeared because you were such a fucking perv.

He looms over, leaving a scant gap between your bodies. Move one inch and you’ll nudge his front. You’re stiff, doing the worst at ignoring his erection. 

“And about my rut,” comes his voice again, sensuous as silk. 

You swallow hard, skin prickling with heat that gathers between your thighs.

Up close, Hawks’s smirk only makes things worse or better…you’ve yet to decide. Regardless, the flash of his Colgate-smile, conspiratorial, pours sparks down your frame. 

He tuts, the sound reaching your ears like a purr. “That silly rumor.”

You blink, pulled out of the fantasy for a moment. You were privy to the alleged spring rut that Hawks experienced. Or so you thought. You had boldly asked Mirko about it once, and she seemed to have more intel.

“That’s why he’s always on ‘special assignment’ for a few weeks,” she had alluded. 

Social media and the tabloids were no different, publishing stories about how Hawks was once again missing in action from public hero events around April. The speculations circulated on the streets too that Hawks entering a rut every spring was practically decreed fact.  

Except it might not be fact after all. Just fodder?

You look up at him, deeply curious, and mildly disappointed… “A rumor?” 

You half-expect Hawks to burst into laughter. Perhaps even to bemoan the public’s misconception of him. But what you see instead is the look of a hunter striking his gaze. 

You stammer, “So, it’s not true—?” 

It happens in a flurry. You’re swept off your feet one second, and airborne, over Hawks’s shoulder the next. And the rest of your apartment glides past your sights. 

Hawks drops you onto your bed, fingering the hem of your shirt.   

Red feathers flutter around to assist. Hawks is hasty, dragging your shirt, while something sharp and swift cuts the back of your bra. The world is nothing but cotton and rustling fabric until your shirt is disposed.

You flop back onto the mattress, tits to the wind. Next, your jeans and underwear are dragged off without fanfare, And Hawks…despite his hurry, takes a pause, blowing out a wolf-whistle.

Sharp eyes rake your chest. “Look at that…there’s a fox hiding under those clothes.” 

Your mind goes static with anticipation, entranced with the way Hawks shamelessly appraises your body. 

There’s a dark and raptorial shift as Hawks’s gaze snaps to yours. He drops forward, wings flared out, casting a crimson eclipse from above. 

“Hawks?”

His hand skims up your stomach, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake before palming your breast. You mewl as he squeezes your flesh.

“You’re so soft,” he rasps, crawling over you, a predator ready to strike. “I can’t wait to leave my marks…” He seals that oath with a searing kiss. 

It catches you by surprise, you try to keep up with his pace, but it’s all-consuming. Sloppy and hungry, a faint whimper falls out from your lips, but Hawks hears it. 

He pulls back, a tendril of saliva breaking apart. “You want that too.” He grins, a growl scraping against his throat. “I can tell. Just fucking look at you. Naked, sprawled on your back, and…”

He trails off, eyes doing the same until they reach your center. 

You’re so wet for him, the arousal leaking from your pussy long before he brought you to the bed. 

Hawks bares his teeth like an animal. “Shit, you got yourself so messy.” He drags his nails up your plush thighs. 

Your skin shivers under the possessive sting. “Hawks—I thought it was a rumor?”

“It is. But everything’s a rumor until proven true." A carnal edge curls around his words, leaving you clueless.  “So—” you breathe. “Are you—are you really in rut—” 

The details of the manga’s story are hazy now, you can only recall a few details. 

Hawks requesting the heroine’s assistance in his lust-filled affliction. From there it went from zero to one hundred fast. 

As you stare at Hawks now in the flesh, it’s like the pages from fiction have come to life. 

“Hawks—” you gasp. 

“ Keigo ,” he cuts you short, voice tight. “If you want me to stop, call me Hawks.” That playful side to him from earlier is nowhere to be seen. It’s been swallowed up by something else. “Call me by my real name…and I’ll keep going. Say my name, and I won’t stop .”

The choice is yours, hanging in the stagnant air. Your breathing is labored, dizzy, an ache gnaws at your stomach. From the way Hawks watches you, his chest stiffening as he sucks in a sharp breath, his willpower is withering. 

You’ve always been careful using his real name. Security reasons, and because ‘Hawks’ was sewn tight within his identity. If you utter his actual name, you won’t be able to undo whatever he has planned. 

It’s a thought you should consider. Rethink how this will affect your friendship with him going forward. How it will affect your own feelings. Despite the circumstances, he’s giving you the option, handing over the reins before he takes them back. 

However, those principles elude you, overshadowed by your own selfish desire. 

Your fate leaves your lips in a forbidden whisper, you’re not sure he hears it. “Keigo.” 

But Keigo does, smug as he presses his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. “That’s my birdy.”

You whine at the affection. Impatient, you weave your hands into his hair to draw him close. He indulges you for a moment, sliding his tongue inside of your mouth. He tastes of sweet coffee, the stroke of his tongue akin to a shot of espresso.

He releases a guttural moan. “Fuck…you’re a great kisser.” He deepens the kiss, stealing the air from your lungs.  

Caught between half-breaths, your head spins. 

“Stay still for me.” Keigo nips at your jaw before falling back on his haunches.

You comply, watching him peel at the neckline of his shirt with precision. Even so, he’s quick with it, wings folding together so that he can slip it off. It’s like an art form, the way his torso stretches, the deftness in his fingers working with the fabric, and the bend of his wings. By the time he’s shirtless, there’s more to see. 

Toned muscle, a six-pack carved into the planes of his stomach, a happy trail sinking past his belt. All that hero training evident in his body, you imagine the same applies to his stamina. At least you’re soon to find out. 

Keigo’s shirt lands somewhere in the room, humored to find you admiring his physique. “You’re the judge. Tell me, better than those drawings?”

The cockiness is distinct in his tone, a signature trait of his that you’ve always adored in secret. If the circumstances were different, you wouldn’t feed that ego of his. But pinned beneath him, a hot frustration simmers in your belly—you don’t care. 

Mouth agape, you nod. Not an ounce of shame left in you.   

Keigo lowers to kiss you again. From the sting of his teeth, you feel blood rushing to your lower lip. He scratches kisses on your neck then, sucking harshly at the skin, leaving marks by your pulse. 

True to his earlier promise, Keigo takes a bite out of every part of you. Your throat, your collarbone, like he’s desperate to devour you before he misses his chance. 

When he reaches your breast, you arch into him. “Keigo—”

You catch the low rumble in his throat, slotting your nipple with his mouth. He sucks harshly, the lewd noises spilling into the air, joining another gasp of his name from your lips. 

He pulls back a little to grab your breasts in both hands, pressing them together to give them as much equal, hungry attention. 

After a moment, Keigo’s attention skates downwards, thumbs pressing into your hip bones, wet kisses smattering all over your stomach. 

Despite the sloppy pace, there’s a reverence in the way Keigo spoils your body. Almost ritualistic and innate. His touch searches and finds the right spots with ease, even parts of your body you didn’t realize were sensitive. Like your rib cage. He sinks his teeth there to leave a loving mark. 

His pace dials down the lower he sinks, then stops when his eyes are reunited with your wet heat.

You can’t describe his expression beyond calling it a trance. Flushed cheeks, lidded eyes, a gaping maw scorching your pussy with his breaths. More surprising, is the loss of his silver-tongue. He licks his lips, but says nothing, like words would fail him if he tried. A certified yapper silenced. 

Then his wings open up, feathers ruffling in light tremors. A few shake free and one lands between your breasts. You take it, running your thumb along the quill.

Keigo shivers. You lift a brow, stroking the feather again, watching him bristle. You don’t recall this happening in the manga. 

“Keigo?” you utter and it’s like his senses snap together. 

He blinks, eyes crawling up to meet yours. A predacious grin forms around his gaping mouth. “Still here, birdy. Just admiring this beautiful pussy of yours—”

Whatever restraint he had left fades in seconds. He tugs you closer and spreads your thighs wide. Dangling his tongue, he gives you another heated look. You watch a dribble of saliva meet your clit, the final warning before Keigo plunges his tongue deep inside of you. 

Pleasure sparks under your skin, glimpses of stars enter your sights. 

It’s all tongue, swiping and thrusting, while Keigo’s talons pierce into your thighs to keep you still. You tremble, already so close to reaching your peak, something Keigo seems privy to. 

He switches to give your clit the most attention, demanding, “You better cum on my fucking face, birdy…”

That authority sends you spiraling, pure ecstasy bursts in your vision, cumming on his tongue. “Keigo!”

“That’s it, that’s it—” he chokes on a grunt, wings tense in the air. “That’s my birdy—fuck—make a mess!”

He slurps every drop, groaning like the pleasure is equally his.

Thigh twitching and muscles numb from being pinned down, you’re mindless as Keigo laps you up with an endless greed. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed. Minutes? Or maybe only a few seconds, because Keigo gives your pussy a gentle kiss before he rises to look at you. 

He smirks. “Still with me?”

You puff out a weak laugh. “Still here…” 

Keigo crawls over, takes your jaw, rewarding you with a fiery kiss to the lips. His front nestles between your thighs. At the press of his erection, a whimper breaks loose from your throat. 

“Not enough for you, huh? Want me to fuck you? Need me to stuff you with my cock?”

“Mhm…” is the only thing you manage.  

Thankfully, Keigo doesn’t torture you any longer. He chuckles, sliding off the bed without looking away. “Make sure those eyes don’t roll out, baby,” he says in preamble, unbuckling his belt. 

You prop yourself on your elbows, eager to watch him strip the last of his clothes. You don’t care how much of a voyeur you’re being. That ship has sailed. 

Keigo slides his pants and boxers off in a hurry. 

His cock springs out and a wave of renewed arousal washes over your body. 

It’s…far better than the illustrations. Far better than your own fantasies. It’s impressive, it’s endowed .

It’s beautiful… Hard and thick, a vein wrapped around the shaft. The tip is flushed a deep red, topped with a pearl of pre-cum.  

Keigo returns to the bed, casting his form of yours. His eyes ride up your stomach, over the valley of your breasts, then finally screech to a halt at your gaze. 

You wonder what you must look like to him because a reflection of your own carnal desire stares back at you tenfold. Keigo’s sharp eyes, pupils blown in a dark vortex, pulling you in deeper. Beautiful, slick lips, agape as he takes a staggered breath.  

He’s always been a master of control. But seeing him in this state triggers a new level of desire within you. For that resolve of his to chip away—to witness a raw, animalistic layer unravel. 

The tip of his dick slides across your center. Rock hard and so fucking heavy, your hips buck up for more friction, turning you into a mewling mess. 

Keigo, however, is no better than you, lust weighing his voice down like iron. “You ready for me?” 

Another pitiful whine pours from your mouth. Words are difficult. Your mind has gone static, too frustrated to think. 

A sharp hiss echoes from above. Keigo bites down on a grin. “Fuck…you’re a vision like this.” Strong hands press down on your thighs, a delicious ache, eclipsed with the feel of Keigo’s dick stroking the seam of your pussy. “Can’t hold back anymore.”

Desperation is caught between Keigo’s lidded eyes. A feral kind of hunger that matches a beast's after staving off for too long. 

“Keigo…” you whine, your hand skims downwards to your pussy. Fingers splay out your folds in a plea. 

“Oh…” Keigo groans, a shudder running from every feather down to his spine. “My name belongs in your mouth. Say it again.”

“Keigo.”

“Fuck…just like that.” He meshes his lips to yours with bruising force, consuming your moans. When he pushes off, he takes your legs, folding them at the knees to crush them between your bodies. “Gotta give you the real, authentic ‘Hawks’ experience,” he growls with a hint of humor. 

His dick nudges your opening. Your pussy flutters, hoping to catch him. But Keigo does the rest, too impatient to wait, he pushes himself in. “Count the inches, baby.”

One...two...the stretch is intoxicating. 

Three...four...his length pulses in your heat. 

Five…six…seven…you lose count of the rest as Keigo buries it all to a hilt. 

Together, you moan in bliss.

Keigo waits a moment for you to adjust and for him to bask in the way your walls suck him in. When that moment passes, he says, “Moving now.”

Your arms enfold around his neck as he pulls out fully and thrusts back in. 

He fucks you with unbridled fervor. Keigo mutters a string of curses, reaching your ears like a melody. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

On impulse, your hand slides down to the base between his wings. You press into it, fingers knotting in his feathers. 

“Ah—baby, my wings, yes, play with my wings—touch them—”

Between his thrusts inside of you and his pleas, your hands are clumsy brushing through the plumage. You lack any sort of technique, but Keigo responds in favor, moaning in your ear while his wings bristle at your touch.

The animalistic display sends a spark down to your center and you clench around his length.

Keigo chuckles, though it’s strained. “Shit, the way you just got even tighter now…fuck...you feel so fucking good—”

While his pace starts to lose rhythm, the stamina has yet to fail him, nor does he ever miss hitting your sensitive spots. Each sharp thrust brings you closer to your climax. 

Keigo can read your body, gauging how close you are. “Let me feel you cum on my cock—please cum on my cock, birdy, fuck—”

It’s nothing but babbling from him now. He looks at you, a hint of vulnerability hidden in that feral vortex. And with a few more harsh strokes your senses bubble over and fizz into euphoria.  

“That’s my birdy,” he rasps into your mouth, praising you with a loving kiss before he bucks his hips a few more times, triggering his own release. 

He spills inside of you, warm and sticky, you savor the feeling as you both catch your breath. You also take the moment to cherish his appearance. 

Dewy skin, pink cheeks, slick all over his lips and chin. Some strands of his classic windswept hair cling to his forehead. You brush them away, meeting his gaze.

He leans into your touch, slipping his arms beneath your back to draw you in and rain kisses all over your face. 

Your laughter echoes in the room, your senses fluttering back like a loose feather. 

Keigo gulps, taking another deep breath. “Well…that's my kind of page turner.”

You snort, bristling at the new onslaught of kisses on your neck. “Nothing compares to the real thing.”

Keigo coos into your pulse. “A book can only show you so much. It can stir that imagination of yours, but…” He kisses you on the lips. “It can’t fuck you. That’s what I'm meant for.”

After this, you doubt you’ll be able to look at the doujinshi the same way. That version of Hawks may have been a fun fantasy, but Keigo is much more special. 

Without warning, you’re flipped over. You only register your face pressed into the sheets before Keigo hikes your hips up so that your ass is on full display. He rubs the tip of his dick against your slit. It’s already hard again, leaking against your folds. 

He brushes the hair from your nape, folding over to whisper in your ear. “That was round one, birdy. Still got to mark up this pretty, delicate back of yours.”

You shudder with excitement, hoping you’ll be able to keep up with Keigo’s stamina. However long that lasts.

So, it’s true? He has a rut? He's in rut?

Keigo takes your hips in his hands, and you brace yourself, grasping onto the sheets. Whether it is or it isn’t, you don’t care to know.  

..............................................

Mirko sends off the civilians she just rescued with a wave. The authorities will handle the rest as she returns to her patrol, maybe even grab a quick dinner beforehand.

She fishes for her phone in her suit’s pocket and considers maybe meeting up with other heroes if they’d like to join.  

Tapping at the screen, she’s met with two notifications.  

[You – 6:40pm]: Did I ever thank you for that manga? 😉🙏

[Hawks – 7:06pm]: I owe you one!!! 

Mirko cackles. No questions, no explanations, no text replies needed. At least now, she knows to rule you and Hawks out for dinner plans tonight. “Pervs."

a/n: adding to the pile of 'hawks in rut' stories with my own twist! hope you enjoyed! and happy 2025!!

[thatanimeramenchick]

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

[frozenjokes]

Another Much Needed Follow Up About Love and Aromanticism, Where It’s Time We Cleared Things Up. Oh, And Mumbo Is Here Too.

this fic can be read on its own as a one shot, but I would recommend reading this first, as the context provides a little more insight on why the characters are reacting the way they do to each other

Over the course of a couple weeks very little changed. Mumbo spent the majority of his time planted in one place, anchored somewhat in the shallows so he could lift his head and listen to what the humans were doing on the days they came around. As much as it pained Mumbo to be so still so much of the time, it was a necessary evil if he ever wanted to heal, and he very much did. It didn’t matter how little he moved his tail at this point, anything he did would only result in his condition worsening.

If it wasn’t for Scar, he would have left a while ago. The humans didn’t come every day anymore, but they came often enough, and they certainly noticed Mumbo’s lack of activity. Grian tended towards keeping his distance, which didn’t bother Mumbo at all, but Scar really went out of his way to be there; sitting close (a gesture Mumbo was beginning to mind less), bringing him human trinkets to look at and play with (always exciting), but most importantly Scar brought food, and a lot of it at that; Mumbo wouldn’t have been able to stay without it. He often wondered where Scar got the many bags of fish he brought; it wasn’t all very fresh, so it was probably supplied from a human stockpile, but regardless, Mumbo was grateful. He wasn’t often in the best of moods and didn’t speak very much despite the fact he was sure Scar would have been ecstatic to talk with him, but he hoped regardless that Scar knew how deeply grateful he was.

Today, Scar and Grian were sitting on the shore together, shoulder to shoulder as they bent over one of their human activities. The first time Mumbo saw them drawing together, he had asked to see (saying ‘What’ over and over again seemed to have gained several different meanings over the weeks), but Scar had showed him that the paper they wrote on got ruined in the water, ripping easily, so it wasn’t something Mumbo could learn about personally. That was okay though, he was content to watch.

“Okay,” Scar began tapping the writing utensil (‘pencil’) to his lips, “Do we have anything to revise about the list this week? I don’t think very much new has happened.”

“Read it again, will you?”

“It’s right here in front of your face, do I really have to?”

“We’ve been over this Scar, I’m conditionally illiterate. Like right now, you got me up early and I’m tired and the words are so far away and I don’t want to. Also your handwriting is atrocious.”

“I’m tired too! It’s not my fault my fish guy needed me to show up at 6 AM.”

“You have a car, Scar. And a license.”

“Oh hey! Look at this cool list!” Scar directed Grian’s attention back to the paper, Grian only rolling his eyes before letting Scar continue. “Well, I won’t go into detail on my notes about what he eats because that’ll just bore you, but to put it simply, basically everything that’s got meat on it. Fish, shellfish, red meat, chicken, mostly just fish is what I’ve been giving him though, since I’m assuming that's what makes up most of his diet. Want to make sure he gets all the proper nutrients, you understand, you understand.”

“Uh huh.”

“As for ‘Likes,’ we’ve got fish, human stuff, Scar, Grian-”

“Scar first?” Grian cut his friend off with a raised eyebrow. Scar blinked several times before answering.

“What?”

“Scar, Grian. You put your name before mine.”

“Well this list wasn’t meant to be in order, but if it was, my name would absolutely go before yours.”

“What! No it wouldn’t. He likes us equally. Mumbo and I have a mutual understanding that we do not want to be anywhere near each other most of the time. We respect each other. From a distance.”

Scar smirked, throwing Mumbo an amused look as if he understood anything that was going on. “You know if you wanted to you could also bring him gifts and stuff. Nothing is stopping you. You could even bring him his fish if you wanted to, he wouldn’t know the difference. I wouldn’t care. There’s really nothing to be afraid of, especially now when he’s so docile like this.”

“I’m not afraid of Mumbo.”

“No?”

“If anything, he’s afraid of me, Scar. I got him in that net, I’ve gotten close to killing him a couple times- he knows it, Scar, he knows. He knows what’ll happen if he steps out of line, that’s what. I told him. I told him all about it.”

“Did you now,” Scar chuckled, nudging Grian playfully, “Well in that case, I’m definitely sure he likes me more. And I’m sure you’re perfectly content with being feared, but if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to help.”

Grian huffed, “I won’t. Continue though.”

Scar lingered for a moment, a gentle fondness etched on his features before turning back to the paper, reading, “Well, he plays around with those vines and roots and things sometimes, he clearly is very curious, he likes to learn, and I think he likes birds, but he might just be staring at them because he wants to eat them. I put bugs in our ‘Neutral’ category since every time I try to give him a bug he just eats it, but I can’t tell if he just eats bugs or if he’s scared of them or something.”

“I highly doubt Mumbo is afraid of bugs. I doubt he cares.”

“Well, you never know! In ‘Dislikes’ we’ve got nets, sleeping bags, being touched, fighting- actually this isn't super related, but I really want to set up a Good and Bad system with him. A thumbs up thumbs down kind of situation. I was thinking about it all last night- we aren’t very good at communicating what we like or don’t like, and this feels like a good solution, but I’m not exactly sure how to tell him clearly what I’m trying to do. How would he know thumbs up means ‘good.’ And vice versa? Maybe bad would be easier to start with, but at the same time he kinda seems like a bite first ask questions later kinda guy.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Definitely start with thumbs up. With any luck he’ll understand that thumbs down is the opposite and you can go from there. I think you could probably associate the gesture with things Mumbo likes. The tape measure, fish- he knows smiling is a positive thing even if he doesn’t smile himself, and he knows what ‘yes’ means as well. With enough of that, I think he’ll grasp the meaning pretty quick.”

“I think so too,” Scar paused for a moment, thoughtful, “You know, this doesn’t just have to be a me effort. You could come and speak to him as well. He would know you’re putting in the effort if you wanted him to like you more.”

“He likes me plenty!” Grian switched from relaxed to exasperated on a dime, throwing up his hands as Scar laughed. “He likes me, Scar.”

“I know he likes you. But I also know he doesn’t have the full picture. He doesn’t know how much time you spend brainstorming how to teach him things, or how to relieve his stress, or worrying when he’s not feeling well. I just want him to know you aren’t as distant as he probably thinks, especially if it bothers you. If you wanted to get a little closer and help me with the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ gestures, that’d be a start.”

Grian was silent for a long time, brows creased tight above his eyes. “Maybe,” he said finally, almost quietly, “But not today. I’m too tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Scar sighed, content, letting his head fall to rest on top of Grian’s, who squeaked, jumping so hard he accidentally jabbed at Scar’s chin with his shoulder. It must not have hurt though, because Scar didn’t seem to mind at all, unmoving. Slowly, Grian untensed, his head falling gently on Scar’s shoulder. Mumbo had a somewhat ridiculous pang of longing despite still holding a strong aversion to any human touch at all. They just looked so relaxed- anyone would wonder what it was like to be human. Though, while Scar closed his eyes, Grian didn’t quite look satisfied, something like conflict sitting across his features. He sat like that for a while, eyes moving, but not quite looking at anything at all, apparent restlessness building. Then he stopped. Closed his eyes. Opened them.

“Scar, are you aromantic or are you just fucking with me? Because I outright refuse to believe anyone is actually this clueless.”

Scar opened his eyes. Silence. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh???” It was safe to say the two of them did not look relaxed anymore, Grian jerking away, “Scar, what does ‘uh oh’ mean. You can not just say ‘uh oh’ and nothing else.” Mumbo’s fins raised at the tone of his voice, but Mumbo cringed back when Grian whipped around to face him with an aggressive point. “No. You stay. Scar, I need you to say more right now.”

“I-Sleeping, I mean, we weren’t sleeping yet- but resting like- not friends? Not normal? Bdubs- I am going to strangle that man!”

“So you’re aromantic?” The words leapt off Grian’s tongue like an accusation, but he relaxed almost immediately after, sighing into his hands, “You’re aromantic. Okay. Good. Okay.”

“I- I mean I don’t love labels. I don’t really know, I don’t know much of anything at all, really. I’m sorry, Grian, I didn’t- did no one tell you I have a horrible track record for these things? Did you want me to ask you out? I still can.”

“Goodness, Scar, no! You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you’ve just been sending incredibly mixed signals and I needed to know what was going on with you before my head exploded and my brains went all over the place and poor Mumbo would have to witness that and we don’t want that, do we? We don’t want that. This is fine, though, we just need to work out some boundaries.”

“What if I did want to though? To ask you out?”

Grian stared. Scar stared back.

“You do not want to.”

“I’ll have you know, I like you plenty a lot! I like you all sorts of ways, and if you also like me, then that’s cool! I’ll tell ya, when I had my little politics phase, my campaign manager was this great guy, Bdubs, we’re still friends, too, have you met him? Anyway, he’s a pretty touchy guy as well and he convinced me all sorts of things were totally normal friend stuff. Oh, we had this great cushy chair in our office and it was only really meant for one person, but sometimes we’d both be so tired and just squeeze into it and it wasn’t any sort of comfortable at all, but in a way it kinda was. Like inside. You know?”

“Scar, do you actually want to ask me out or are you just saying that because you think that’s what I wanted.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not what I asked.”

“Well, Grian, it really doesn’t matter to me either way!” Scar gave Grian a big smile, like these words were the ones that would definitively solve their dispute, but the expression started to drop when Grian looked mortified. “Is..” Scar started, unsure now, “Something wrong?”

Mumbo had never seen such a wide range of emotions cross Grian’s face before his head dropped onto his knees with a soft thunk. “No. It’s fine.”

Scar stared for a long while, a gentle churning of thought moving behind his eyes. He relaxed, scooching to give Grian a little space before smiling again, the expression soft. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure, Scar.” Grian’s voice was muffled between his knees, and given his face was covered, Mumbo had no idea how he was feeling.

“So there was this one time in high school where I was good friends with this girl, and she was awesome, just the best, and we hung out like constantly, and y’know how people get sometimes all pushy asking about dating and stuff, but you also know high schoolers who can’t communicate if their life was on the line. So all my friends are like dude, you guys are literally dating, aren’t you? And I say no! I insist we’re not every time, I insist! Yes, we went out together often and we talked for hours and her family had some money troubles so a lot of the time I offered to pay, you know, normal stuff, it was normal, I promise, but one day I get this call, right? From one of her friends! And this girl just starts ripping into me, like, seriously! She’s telling me all this stuff I had no idea about- telling me my friend is so confused, that she doesn’t feel pretty around me, that I’m always trying to avoid intimacy- that I refused to kiss her! And I was like what, whoa there! No one has ever tried to kiss me! Why are we talking about kissing people? She thought we were dating, Grian.”

“I got that.”

“And then she dumped me! My first breakup, and I didn’t even know! I was kinda bummed, too, I had always kinda wanted to kiss someone, but I thought they’d tell me first! Y’know, that they wanted to. I would have been so ready! The worst part is I think my guy friends were trying to tell me we were dating, not just teasing me. They also thought it was funny though, so. Who knows.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know, right! And this other time in college there was this other girl- we had mutual friends and stuff and we were at a party and just absolutely wasted and she grabbed me by the collar and she said ‘SCAR,’ she yelled in my face, she said ‘I’ve been FLIRTING with you for WEEKS and YOU’VE been flirting BACK. ARE YOU GAY?’ And I said, drunk, ‘A little bit!’ And then we danced all night. It was awesome. She was so cool. That kinda stuff happened a lot in college, actually. Guys are a bit more direct, which I appreciate. I’m a little stupid, I need the extra help sometimes.”

Grian tensed where he was sitting, quiet for a short pause before speaking, “You’re not stupid, Scar.”

“I mean. A little bit.”

“No. You’re not stupid.”

Scar was silent for a long while, staring despite Grian’s head still being buried in his knees. “I don’t know about that.”

Grian lifted his head, shaking it ‘no.’ He blinked a couple times before shaking his head again, a little more forcefully. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just talked to you like an adult and told you how I was feeling. Sometimes you’re just really confusing, and that’s not your fault, you just.. go about the world in a different way. And it’s not a bad way either, it’s not wrong. If people can’t communicate exactly how they’re feeling to you, that’s a them issue. You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Scar. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I really thought we had some sort of understanding- and I did mean it when I said we could give this a shot. I like dating, Grian, I always have a lot of fun! I can be- I know I can be- I have trouble sometimes, I just ruin good things-”

“Scar, stop, please. I don’t want anything you don’t want. Period.”

Scar didn’t seem to know what to do with that, staring uselessly at his own hands before looking back up. “I want it, Grian,” he stressed, his arms trembling, but Grian only stared, lips gently parted.

They both looked.. So sad. Mumbo longed to help, to sing, to do something, but he was stuck outside of their world.

Grian extended his arms. “C’mere, buddy.”

Scar collapsed into them, shaking as he did. Grian didn’t move, rubbing slow circles on Scar’s back while he cried. There was a certain focus behind Grian’s eyes, a certain calm as he held his friend close, and Mumbo.. well, it was clear Grian didn’t need Mumbo’s help. So that was the power of human touch.

He’d have to learn it one day.

[gracefulsunflower]

ANGEL - SETH CLEARWATER X READER

PREVOUS Prologue

I

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Seth sat with the pack and the imprints after telling them about you — The little he knew anyways. He was still hung up on the fact that you would only be here for two months.

"Why don't you, I don't know, show up in the same places she is?" Embry suggested, throwing a baseball to Quil as they sat down, albeit carefully — Sam would kill them if they broke something.

Emily wouldn’t mind, but since she bought half of the stuff in the house Sam would break their fingers if they scratched even one thing.

"He's not a mind reader, Embry, God," Leah snarked, throwing an arm around her not so little brother's shoulders, pulling him slightly closer to her.

She smelled like home, so he nestled in a little closer, needing the comfort.

"But the little Cullen is, maybe Jake can ask them for some help," Embry shot back, and Seth looked elated, but then his face dropped.

"But I don't want her to think I'm a stalker or anything," Seth murmured defeatedly, and it was back to the drawing board.

The room went silent, Seth dragging the slightly good mood down with him.

"Adopt a dog," Quil suggested, and everyone looked at him.

"You said she has a dog — If you get one then you can take it for walks when she takes hers for walks. That's not that stalkerish. You have an excuse to be in the same place at the same time," Quil elaborated as he fumbled an extra hard throw from Embry, and Seth grinned so bright that it made everyone else crack a small smile.

"Quil, you're a genius! Now all I need to do is find a dog." Seth replied, his mind running wild as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, wondering who to message.

Adopting dogs from the local shelter was really expensive, and he was saving for a new dirt bike. He only had $200 to go, and he really didn’t want to waste money on a new dog. Not when he could nearly taste the dirt bike.

"Rez dogs are having puppies all of the time man, but if you're that keen Miss Postoak is trying to get rid of her bitch since she can't afford her right now, she’s only a companion dog and the others are working dogs," Jared supplied before taking another bite of his blueberry muffin, courtesy of Emily, and Seth felt victorious as he clicked onto his Mom’s contact and called her, asking if he could get a dog for his birthday.

"You're picking up its’ crap, buying its’ dog food and leashes, and it is getting neutered, we have enough strays on the reservation as is, young man — and I'll help you set up the yard for it when you get it," She replied, then said 'love you' and hung up the phone.

Seth whooped, then calmed back down, looking around the room at his expectant friends.

"What the fuck do I need for a dog?"

Leah pinched her brother’s ear for his foul language, making everyone laugh.

•••

Thankfully, Old Quil owned many a dog in his lifetime, used for hunting, mainly, but most of them were now companions in their old age, the man hesitant to get another in case it outlived him. Young Quil helped Seth buy the needed supplies like leashes, a crate for inside, dishes for the food, a dog bed, and a vet appointment was set for Monday so the bitch that Seth adopted — named Missy, a Rottweiler Shar Pei cross (Rott Pei, Quil had helpfully given him the proper name for the breed of the mutt) could be checked up, seeing as she was due for one.

Seth and Quil now at the store, buying some dog food. The smell was still overwhelming, and mixed in with how all of the other store goers smelled it was nearly unbearable. He could even still smell the products they mopped the floors with. He put the last thing in the cart when he heard a familiar voice. You.

"Quil, shit man, that's her!" Seth whispered excitedly, then listened as you made your way through the aisles, talking about dog food for Cujo.

Quil watched his younger pack mate bounce on his heels as you approached, and tried not to laugh at how excited Seth was getting. The boy turned to face you as soon as you turned the corner, dragging your dad by his hand, a basket in your other hand.

"Oh! It's little Seth!" Alexander pointed out, making you look away from the tins of dog food on the shelf, and give him a friendly grin, dropping your dad’s hand in the process.

"Hello, hello," You greeted, and nodded towards his full trolley, "Stocking up for a vacation?"

Seth turned back at the groups of haphazardly stacked dry kibble bags and wet food cans, and numerous treat packets. Maybe he was going a tiny bit overboard.

"Uh, no," Seth admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a chuckle, "I'm getting my first dog and I think I got overexcited."

"Oh! Such a spoiled little puppy that will be! Maybe you and miss (Y/N) could take your dogs for walks sometimes! I think she gets sick of her old man slowing her down," Alexander offered, and nudged (Y/N)'s shoulder, "If you need help with the dog too, (Y/N) could teach you a few tricks. Should help her keep herself busy for the next two months."

Seth tried not to smile too hard as he agreed, but noticed that you looked less than pleased, but give him a tight lipped smile nonetheless.

"Dad, grab two dry bags of dog food," You commanded, and your father did your bidding as you somewhat aggressively threw some dog food cans into a basket, managing to dent one of them.

Your father suddenly looked less than pleased with your behaviour as you threw the last can and turned on your heel, shoulder checking him as you walked past him. Alexander looked back at the pair of boys and gave them a tight lipped smile and a small wave before leaving behind his daughter.

Seth cocked his head to the side, trying to drown out the rest of the store goers to listen to you. Quil immediately did the same.

“What in the Gods was that? Ridiculous behaviour for what?” Your father said gruffly, but not unkindly.

"Dadda, I don't want to go for walks with him!" Was the first thing Seth heard you say, which made his heart drop, but he kept on listening anyway.

"Nonsense, he seems nice! A friend wouldn't hurt," Your father tried to reason with you, but you huffed.

"If a friend wouldn't hurt we'd actually live in one place and not move around like nomads." You then let out a soft 'fuck!', most likely stubbing your toe on the stupid boxes near the mouth of aisle 2.

"Well, I'm sure this place is the place. Trust me, tiny child. If it isn't, I'll buy you your dream Dodge Challenger for a late birthday gift." Your father reasoned.

"Don't bullshit me," You snapped back, sounding like you were nearer to the doors.

"I'm not! Matte black Dodge Challenger with red under glow for your birthday, or we live here, I swear it on Cujo's life." Your father pleaded, and you sighed.

"Fine. I'll see if one of the workers knows how to get into contact with him. I'll try to find him on MySpace or Twitter or something." You relented, then the doors opened to the front of the store, and your scent was gone.

Your Father cheered and Quil put Seth into a headlock playfully, messing up his hair, making Seth laugh as he did so.

•••

You sat on your new bed, your dog Cujo, a black Cane Corso who was getting on in his years, shown by the grey fur on his muzzle, resting on the floor next to your bed, not being allowed on any furniture. Your father was doing research in his room.

You picked up a piece of mango and popped it into your mouth as you looked up the name of the place you were staying at on Facebook. You found the profile, and clicked into it, then went straight to followers. You couldn't find any followers with Seth's profile picture, so you went and looked up the name of the school, finding their profile and looking through the followings for Seth. No luck. Even searching his name up you discovered nothing. You stalked his school until you found his name on an old post where he had won an award for a spelling bee, also discovering his last name. Clearwater. Seth Clearwater.

You logged into your MySpace account, and looked for him, and surprisingly found him. His profile picture was a photo of him with a man, standing side by side, grinning.

You found it, and let held your arms up above your head in a victorious manner, looking around the room as if expecting someone to cheer for you, then focussing on your dog.

"See how fucking amazing I am, Cujo? The FBI needs to hire me as a detective," You said, then started scrolling through his profile.

Nothing overly fancy. Just some pictures of him, people you assumed to be his family, and some of nature around the area, alongside some photos of his adventures. You clicked the 'Add Friend' button, and decided to make a new friendship bracelet while you watched movies, heading off to your dad's room to go and ask him to start the bracelet for you.

•••

Seth was currently scrolling through Twitter at his desk as his Xbox 360 started up, Leah lounging on his bed playing Mario on his DS. Technically, he and Leah shared the Xbox, but he just kept it in his room as she didn’t really play it much these days, instead choosing to play his DS. He didn’t mind. Just as long as she stayed in his room so he knew it was safe. Missy was laying halfway under his bed, gnawing at a new chew toy Quil had picked out.

His phone beeped, and a new notification popped up. He walked over and slid onto the bed next to his sister. A new friend request. He looked, and his heart started speeding up as he looked at the profile.

“What?” Leah inquired, hearing the thrumming, looking over his shoulder.

“She added me on MySpace!” Seth told his sister excitedly, showing her the profile picture of you and a black dog, along with your Dad and a woman who looked a bit like you, and accepted your friend request, then started looking through your profile.

There were photos from all around the world. Australia, Sweden, Italy, France. Your father and you were the main focus of your photos, but your nature shots were a sight to behold. There were also some with people that weren’t your father, so maybe friends and relatives. The photos of the woman in your profile picture stopped around a year ago, he noted. Your newest photo was the Welcome to Forks sign, you and a huge black dog posing in front of it, the same one from your profile picture.

A message notification popped up. He opened it, and there was a message from you.

Y/N:

Hey

“Oh my goodness, she messaged me!” Seth nearly squealed, and Leah bit back a laugh at her little brother, knowing that laughing would probably result in him attacking her with a pillow covered in a Spider-Man case.

“Well don’t just ignore it, reply!” Leah urged, and Seth looked at his sister, eyes as wide as saucers.

“What do I say!” Seth panicked, and Leah rolled her eyes, grabbing the iPhone covered in a Spider-Man case and messaging her back.

Seth:

Hey

•••

You blinked at your laptop screen, your friendship bracelet forgotten. You didn’t expect him to reply so fast. You went down to the vending machine just outside of the office about ten minutes ago and he wasn’t there, instead there was a girl at the counter, talking on the phone as she painted her nails. Maybe his shift was over, and he was at home? You didn’t think on it much.

Your fingertips ghosted over the keys, then stopped, instead picking up your phone and logging into MySpace there.

“Dad?” You called out, and he ambled into your room, a sandwich with a bite taken out of it, jerking his head upwards slightly as he chewed.

“Seth messaged me and I don’t know how to reply,” You admitted, and your father chuckled as he came over and sat next to you, trying not to get any crumbs on the bed.

Cujo immediately came over and sat expectantly next to him on the floor, but your father shooed him away. Your baby walked over and laid in his crate, looking offended.

“What do you want to say?” He asked, pulling your phone into his hand, getting ready to type a message for you.

You leaned against his muscly arm, and shrugged. You weren’t very good at holding conversations.

“Why don’t you ask him about his new dog?” Your father suggested and you grinned victoriously, taking back the phone and sending him a message.

Y/N:

How’s things going with preparing for ur dog?

You hummed, feeling content, then sent the message. Seth started typing immediately.

Seth:

She’s good! We picked her up like an hour ago and she’s currently harassing my sister, lol

A photo came through of a dog that looked like a Rottweiler, but was wrinkly, and the tail curved upwards, sitting on the lap of a girl that looked a couple years older than you, playing a DS.

“Oh! Looks like a little Rott Pei! They’re stubborn little fucks,” Your father commented, still eating his sandwich, making you giggle.

Your aunty Lara had one, over in Italy. He tended to chew any shoes left outside, and didn’t like Cujo much.

Seth:

Her name is Missy :)

Y/N:

She’s so cute! Is she a Rott Pei? Dad says they’re stubborn lol

Seth:

Yeah, she is. I’m gonna try and take her for a walk tomorrow. She’s really good on lead, and well socialised. My sister Leah’s coming too, wanna come with?

Before you could type ‘no’, your father snatched your phone and sent a message.

Y/N:

That sounds good, when & where?

“Dad!” You hissed, picking up your stuffed Elmo doll from beside you and assaulting your father with it, making him drop his sandwich.

Cujo wasted no time in scrabbling over and eating it, making you laugh, but you quickly stopped as your phone beeped again, leaning over and grabbing it from your dad’s hand.

Seth:

Tomorrow, like 11am?

We can take out a picnic!

Me and Leah can come pick you up :)

You quickly positioned yourself so you could see Cujo in the background, your dad deciding to hop into the photo as well, holding up both of his thumbs and giving the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

Y/N:

Cujo & I are keen, so’s Dad apparently. See you then!

•••

Leah pinched her little brother’s cheek as he put the phone down, tittering at the way he blushed, the colour in his cheeks and ears becoming more noticeable with the red undertone of his blood rushing to them.

“My baby, all grown up! Going on a date with a girl-”

“-It’s not a date, Leah,” Seth said exasperatedly as he grabbed his phone and messaged Jacob, wanting to let him know first.

Seth:

(Y/N) and I are walking our dogs together tomorrow.

Jacob:

Good job bro :)

You should see if she wants to come to your birthday party tomorrow

Seth blinked. Tomorrow was his birthday. He’d be fifteen, and in two months he’d be starting tenth grade.

Seth:

I forgot about that haha

Are you and Ness coming?

Jacob

Wouldn’t miss it for the world man

I picked out a cool gift but Ness said hers is ‘practical’, or whatever

You know how she is

Seth laughed and sent back a thumbs up emoji, then leaned over and scritched Missy behind her ears, making her wag her tail contentedly. Today was a good day. Tomorrow was going to be even better.

•••

Alexander stood out on the porch of the cabin, facing the sea as he puffed on his Marlboro, the cigarette being his only source of light other than the moon, full and low over the sea.

A movement in the distance, over near some rocks, only just visible in the corner of his eye. His head snapped in the direction of it, his blue eyes nearly glowing in the dark.

Something was staring right back at him, its eyes shining green like a cat’s in the dark. A stare off ensued. Alexander moved ever so slightly, reaching for his crossbow, but the creature then spread its’ wings and took flight, the huge wing span nearly blocking out the moon as it ascended.

Alexander growled and put out his cigarette, dropping it into the metal trash can near his feet. He found what he was looking for. Now it was time to complete the rest of his mission.

•••

Mary Postoak stared at the moon through her kitchen window, opting to watch it as the sink filled up in front of her.

There was a flash of darkness in front of the moon, looking like a huge bird. She gasped, a hand going to her chest. It was bigger than any bird she saw, ever. And the last time she checked; birds didn’t have legs like humans.

A thud was heard in her backyard, and her dogs started barking, making her head for her back door, but a yelp cut her off. She instead turned on her heel, running towards her bedroom and grabbed her rifle, then ran through the hallway, throwing open the back door and loading the rifle.

She grabbed the flashlight from her deck table, and turned it on, shining it toward the scene, and gasped.

Something was hunkered over her dog, feeding from it. Upon hearing her, it looked up, blood covering its lower lip. It was hideous. Pale skin, and two enormous wings. It stood up at its full height, nearly ten feet, and stepped forward, making her drop her torch and point her rifle at it.

She fired it once, hitting it square in the chest. It growled, then lunged for the woman, attacking her before she could even scream.

§§§

Fun fact lol, Missy & Cujo are based on dogs I've owned. Again, not proofread so please kindly point out any mistakes!

[bracedfangirl]

I could not bring myself to write proper fic stuff for this, so you'll have to settle for dialogue snippets only.

Aka AU where Jay gets caught by Morro and his goons during some part of S5, and has to sit and watch Lloyd suffer.

"How do you feel bud?"

"Like shit."

--------------------------------------------------

"Shit dude you're really thin..."

"You think I don't know?"

"When did you last eat? Or drink for that matter?"

"About two hours ago."

"And before that?"

"Uh... Maybe 3 days ago... I usually get water daily, food is... Heavily mood dependant if you know what I mean."

"Oh... What about sleep?"

"Uh... This is my first break in the past two days, so sometime before that..."

"How long can you sleep when he's out?"

"Uh... Three-four hours max. Otherwise it hurts too much to fall asleep. Either everything hurts or everything is numb."

"Which is worse?"

"The numb. I can barely move, or breathe when it's numb."

--------------------------------------------------

The following morning Morro wakes Lloyd up by smacking him on the top of the head with a metal rod through the bars (Color coding changes: Jay remains blue, Lloyd is now orange, and Morro is green):

--------------------------------------------------

"Wakey wakey blondie!"

"Agh- Motherfucker!"

"Get your asses up, we're leaving shortly."

--------------------------------------------------

"Stop! Leave him alone you gassy fucks!"

"Ooo someone's mad." (Soul archer)

"Hey Windbag! Stay within your element and take me instead!"

"I appreciate the offer Zaptrap but no. You're even more whiny than Blondie here, and I'm already out of patience regarding him."

"Jay. Turn away. Please."

"What?! No!"

"I don't want you to see it happen... Please turn away-"

"Alright enough of this! Bansha, hold the brat down."

"Please Jay turn away-"

And then it happens, Lloyd's final warning is actually cut off by a choked scream

"NO!"

--------------------------------------------------

That evening (Color coding back to Jay is blue Lloyd is green):

--------------------------------------------------

"So uh... Morro told me something interesting this morning."

"95% of the time I'm aware of what he says."

"I know but I wanted to ask you about it... He asked me to deliver Kai the message: Don't promise something you don't keep. I wanna know what he's referring to with that."

"Oh uh... Y'know how that morning we caught that giant ass fish? Well afterwards I kinda had this heart to heart with Kai, and he promised to look after me from then on..."

"Oh fuck..."

"Yeah... Dammit I tried so fucking hard to keep this memory away from him. He's been singling Kai out a lot, and I know it's because he saw the fire temple and Chen's staff ones..."

--------------------------------------------------

And that's all folks! I do not plan on writing more sophisticated stuff for this, so if any of you are inspired, feel free to write or draw or make ideas from this! Just make sure to tag me cause I'd love to see what y'all can come up with!

[o0o0thorn0o0o]

It’s that time of year again!!!

The amount of times Ibis crashed on me ;~; (still sorting out the storage issues—at a slug’s pace, ‘cause other things be preoccupying my mind), but it was worth it!! I’m very much proud, very much pleased, with how it came out this year if I do say so myself! Ahhh, all that struggling with and “refinding” my art style this year was not for naught!!

I think of my previous years, 2021 is my favorite, but it’s officially been replaced now 😌 I feel so content rn (please don’t let this be a short moodlet, eheh)

That said, I do think I prefer last year’s hands. They were also a pain this time—primarily Yukiko’s right hand…

Anywho, previous versions (+ “base-color” version + a close-up ‘cause why not) under the cut (after some more rambling, eheh):

I was really struggling to start this—I restarted it 3 times essentially—so I’m also really happy with how it came out in that regard. As such (plus the crashes), I’m a wee bit late this year, but only by a few days; I really don’t mind it for once, haha.

I noticed I was going in a certain direction over the years with Yukiko’s hairstyle and the light source, and not the one I intended. Realized that this year, so I fixed those trends:

Tried to make the light source more behind and adjusted it’s position to match with the scene in my head more (though, if I really wanted to be truthful to that, she’d be in one of the other ballgowns I designed for her since she wears this specific one for her first meeting with Gakushuu in this AU, whereas the idea for this scene is supposed to be from when they’re much more familiar with each other later on. But, uh, I like this dress wayyy too much, so let’s just ignore that, haha). I was actually thinking of finally implementing a proper bg this year—even sketched it (mainly for perspective, though)—but I really wanted to just get this done, haha, but also… I didn’t want to deal with more crashes… Perhaps next year… but don’t quote me on that, haha.

As for the hair, the strands that bunch up the rest of Yukiko’s hair—I noticed I was placing them too low. How I imagine her hairstyle to be is that they eventually connect up to her bun (I should definitely sketch a back view concept of this design, mainly so I don’t forget stuff like these, eheh, and to visualize just what in the world is going on… but that’s something distant future me will worry about… if she remembers, of course ^^;). But they’re also supposed the same length as the rest of her hair, so… yeah… I thought this would make her hair less fluffier, which would’ve saddened me, haha, but it didn’t! That said, I have a feeling I’ll possibly make it less voluminous next year… Seems a bit too thick… but idk. I like drawing thick hair, haha.

Oh, also, if you’ll notice: I decided to simplify her underskirt design last year, and… yeah, no, I reverted that change, haha.

Mannn, I am in such a mood to draw more “A Brothers’ Quarrel” stuff/AC Kingdom AU stuff in general (like designing some proper outfits for Gakushuu and Karma finally (they’re the main characters, and Yukiko only appears for a specific part of the AU, yet who do I draw the most…? XD), drawing her horse, Camellia, drawing her in her other dresses, finally getting around to drawing her ladies-in-waiting designs in that other Kingdom AU (just how long ago did I post the traditional sketches of them? Yikes…), etc, etc), but I’ve got too much stuff to get finished before the end of the year. I really need to pick up the pace, eheh.

[caracalsimp]

Glamrock Bonnie x Reader Headcanons

I KNOW HE'S NOT IN THE GAME BUT YOU GUYS VOTED FOR HIM LAST HC AND I FELT LIKE CREATING FNAF CONTENT AGAIN (WHILE WAITING FOR BE ABLE TO DRAW FNAF STUFF AAAA-)

ENJOY IT

I personally see Bonnie as the take-it-easy one who is always calm and relax, never ever losing his temper, even in the worst situations. Ever since you've been dating him, you never saw him angry, nor upset, and his soothing presence is what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

Bonnie is very attentive to your mood swings and has the magic ability to calm you down almost instantly. Whenever you experience negative emotions, he likes to gently hug you while caressing your hair and even humming a tune for you.

If you're sad, he will get his guitar and play a little song for you until you're done crying and ease your mind. He loves playing the guitar for you, and when he does, his melody always manage to soothe you. He thinks music is one of the best medicine there is.

You're his main inspiration to each and every songs he created ever since he met you. Before singing it in public at Bonnie Bowl on his mini-stage, he likes to sing it to you so he gets your feedback on it.

Whenever he's performing on stage and you're around him, he loves staring at you when he sings and plays the guitar at the same time. Major bonus if this makes you blush and immediately look away from his pink eyes.

Bonnie is not the kind of person who will make decisions. Whenever you guys wants to spend time together, he lets you choose where you want to go. When you ask him what does he want to eat at dinner, he will let you decide which dish you want make, or which kind of food you want to order. Everything suits him, as long as you're happy. You find it cute in some way, but sometimes, you really want him to choose with you.

Bonnie is an extremely good listener. If you need to vent to him about stuff that happened to you, he will carefully listen to you and make sure you let all your negative feelings out until there's nothing else in your mind but clear water.

He likes it when you steal his guitar from him, even if you don't know how to play. If you try to play it, he won't say a thing but will gently reposition your fingers right so you can play proper notes. Bonus point if his metallic touch makes you blush.

[BONUS, TRIGGER WARNING: BONNIE'S DEATH, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES, GRIEF] His sudden disappearance filled your whole soul with anxiety. Bonnie would never disappear like that out of the blue. It doesn't sound like him. You looked and searched far and wide for him but you never found him... until you did. You were the one who found his lifeless metallic body ripped into pieces. Your scream could be heard through the entire Pizza Plex. You hyperventilates and all your anxiety flush your entire mind with panic and denial. You don't want to believe it's him. You don't want to believe that someone was monstrous enough to do that to him. And Fazbear Entertainment won't repair him. You cried so much you didn't have tears anymore. After this incident, nightmare of his dismantled body haunted you every night. You couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat, and every single day you were unbearable with everyone. Each day you had to isolate yourself so you could manage all these traumatic emotions and fighting against those panic attacks as much as you could, trying to remember the times when you could hear is soothing music, trying to remember when he tucked you in his arms while gently running his metallic hand through your hair. Why. Why did it happened to him. You couldn't imagine yourself without him. And yet, he was gone. And wouldn't come back. Just like Freddy you don't even come up to Bonnie Bowl anymore, the weight of grief on your heart being way too heavy. And even though you knew Bonnie wouldn't want you to be sad for him, you couldn't help yourself. You were sad. You needed to cry and let this feelings out. And with time, you managed to cry less and less. Thinking about Bonnie would not make you cry anymore, but would actually ease your mind whenever you try to remember the sound of his voice, the glitter in his bright pink eyes, the feel of his soothing aura. And one night, you decide to go back to Bonnie Bowl, and you could feel his presence. Bonnie's spirit was still there. And now, whenever you feel down, you always come to this area while singing the tune he used to sing to you. It's a different kind of presence, but somehow, he's still here. And that's when you finally moved on from Bonnie's disappearance, making peace again with his spirit, who still wanders around the Pizza Plex regardless.

And that's it! I hope you liked me adding some little drama to my BonniexReader headcanons ♥

[puppetmaster13u]

Slowly rotating combining my cryptid omegaverse Gotham (where they can swap and switch between secondary sexes and if you stay in Gotham long enough your scent starts to disappear as well) and my Dragon Curse Gotham (Originally a DP crossover but probably wouldn't for the main AU) prompts. Into its own Au.

Where Gotham can change into dragons, and it's like the One thing they all keep secret from Outsiders. Everyone has three forms depending on the secondary sex they are at the time, while children have a form similar to a parent just, more stone-colored for camouflage. If that makes sense.

So normally I'd make world-building from scratch but I'm not drawing dragons from scratch for this. Like three for each character ever? Ehhh, sorry not happening lol. So I'll probably use Flight Rising or something similar to come up with things to base their dragon forms off of.

Anyway if you're here, hope you don't mind ramblings lol.

Everyone in the world is either Alpha/Beta/Omega/Delta but Gotham is cryptid-like in that they can change their secondary sex at will

The longer ones family has been in Gotham the quicker while newcomers might take months for a single shift 

Newcomers’ scents will also begin to disappear like a delta’s but continue to have a 2nd sex

Secondary sexes are a mixture of body parts, scents, and aura, almost akin to psychic bubbles around someone that shows mood and other information 

Most second-sex puberties come in around the age of twelve, though the semi-sexual half doesn’t come in until the age of seventeen on average 

It’s a well-kept secret of Gotham having a more benevolent curse of people becoming dragons

The form is influenced by whatever secondary gender they are at the time

Unless they are children in which case their form is similar to whatever their parents’ might be, but a solid gray-black color that camouflages with the Gotham streets 

Gotham also has several animals & plants similarly mutated well, everything

Reality warping is also canonically an issue with an entire street disappearing every week & gravity around certain places being odd on certain days

So if You're a Gothamite you get to have a third dragon puberty where you start getting your adult forms and colors and all that stuff

Secondary sexes are a mixture of body parts, scents, and aura, almost akin to psychic bubbles around someone that shows mood and other information

The longer ones family has been in Gotham the quicker they can shift between genders while newcomers might take months for a single shift

Deltas are: People with no secondary sex, usually due to a medical condition that is usually hereditary, but can also happen from large damage to glands as a young child before presentation Unless you are a Gothamite, as every person who stays there for extended periods of time becomes scentless or a combination of scents/auras even if they’re another sex Children are sometimes wrongly referred to as Deltas even though the proper term is Unpresented 

So in other words, Gotham is Really Fucking Weird to the rest of the world. Some people might and probably would use it to transition though, also helped by the fact that there's so many scholarships in Gotham. I mean, look at how many of the rogues have PHDs.

Now the Delta thing is semi-important because for example Clark, as an alien, doesn't have a scent. Which mean he's very much Noticed the first time he's sent by Perry to Gotham. He's kind of confused as to why he's so welcomed compared to all the other Daily Planet reporters, but he's not complaining. And it gives him an excuse for his scent, as it is known that Gotham is in fact Like That when it comes to scent disappearing and other such things.

I would continue rambling but I need sleep at some point lmao Will definitely add more later tho

[hyperforcereignition]

Things that I think about more then I should

(This is me trying to get past the fact, that I'm still burnt out)

Chiro, genuinely struggling for a long time to get his powers under proper control. Like, this kid runs on literal electricity and life energy. The heart has it's own electrical signal, it's literally coursing through him. I wonder if it makes him more attune to heartrates in others, or if there is sometimes a worry he'll over do it one day. At the same time, the rhythm in his chest, is the answer to a lot... Listening to his heart, his instincts, helps him in so many ways.

I've floated the idea before, that he should be encouraged by the team, to just play with his powers, let him have a moment like this:

But with his powers. He's a kid, kids are going to wanna play with their powers, if they're lucky enough to have them. He wanted to be a superhero his whole life and named one of his attacks AFTER HIS OWN NAME. There was absolutely a period of time, where he was just being a goofy kid, playing and just showing the team waht he could do beyond just what they expected.

But also, the downside... what are the draw backs? We're never really shown what happens when someone has basically a constant shock to their system. Is he more sensitive to electrical fields?

Also, why I wish Sparx and Chiro just genuinely had more scenes. For as much as we see the training room used, I wish Sparx had been given a chance to teach and have it be taken as seriously as Antauri's lessons. Feels like we only really see Chiro being taught stuff actively a few times through the series, the rest is learning on the job which isn't bad, but I would've wanted to see these scenes too. Sparx's powers mirror Chiro's to a T, specifically, it would've been nice seeing Chiro learn how to really manage his own powers, because Sparx was used to his weapons being very similar.

Showing him how to control it and honestly, something I'll probably edit into my own works as well as time away has made me think about stuff all over again, but we're not talking project stuff rn lol

I think a lot about how Chiro's powers could also be a reflection of his mood, how he had to learn to really focus. Like, what made him focus specifically on his communicator pin and the more I thought about it... His hand always goes to his heart, not the pin. For the longest time I thought the pin was like Sailor Moon's compact.

Instead, no it's a tool like everything else. It's Chiro's powers doing that, but it's focusing on that part of him.

I think, he's also an empath to some level, people are drawn to him and vice versa... His ability to sense things, will likely exceed even Antauri's one day.

But anyways, sorry I went on so long.

Just some thoughts.

[acaplaya-musings]

Geoff Castellucci Carol Of The Bells - thoughts/commentary

Excuse me while I go pick my jaw up from the floor because like MY GOD????

So yeah Peter Hollens' cover has been definitely dethroned in my mind! Geoff has done it again! This feels like the spiritual successor to his God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen cover and I love it so much!

Okay so the thing is that this dropped to Patreon late in the morning last Sunday for me (the day after Zat You Santa Claus appeared on VP's Patreon), when I was about to go out shopping with my mum, so I barely had just enough time to watch it (there was no way I could wait when I saw what the song was!), and thus didn't start typing stuff up until I returned home from shopping (yes, my premiere post was actually typed up after I had already watched the video, but it was still true of my thoughts before I had hit play). And then after I got home, I had other new videos to watch, a Christmas tree to decorate, a dog to walk, etc, and basically it's now nighttime, roughly 10 hours later, that I'm able to watch it for a second time. So I'm gonna do what I did with VoicePlay's Christmas upload, and rewatch it on my laptop while pausing to type up notes on my phone, so I don't forget to mention anything. (And I won't be doing Voiceplay-adjacent visuals for this one, so I'll have thoughts on the video itself here as well).

Review/commentary below the cut!

Love the beginning with the audible crackling from the fireplace! Really helps start to set the mood/vibe right off the bat and draw you in!

One of the Patrons drew attention to the fact that all of the "Geoffs" walk into shot in this one, and actually yeah that's a new thing for Geoff! And I gotta wonder if that was an additional editing challenge for him. It works phenomenally well though - like I didn't even think about it at first really!

Ooh that first piano note with like the background reverb(?) and the strings and stuff, now that sure sets a tone!

Obligatory appreciation for the hair - the grey streak is becoming one of multiple grey "highlights" and I love it. Okay moving on, just had to get that off my chest as per usual!

Oh wow that backing percussion! Almost sounds like a bit of war drums in there? (Seriously, this is basically God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen part 2 and it's THE BEST)

Dang it's close to like a full minute before we get the first proper vocal line (as in proper lyrics rather than humming or stuff) but it doesn't matter because he has me ENTRANCED.

In Geoff's most recent monthly webchat on his Patron, he had told us that there was like a couple or a few good subharmonics in his upcoming song cover, and OH HE WASN'T KIDDING!

"Merry Christmaaaaaaaa..." and that is where my jaw dropped, and basically stayed dropped for most of the rest of the video. SIR!

Okay so like it's a little hard to be sure, due to the heavy reverb effects on the sub (which I personally think was a great addition - makes it more epic!) but like uhhh did he hold that subharmonic for 14 seconds? Like I know he held a B0 sub for 15 seconds in Valhalla Calling, but like still, dude!

And I of course gotta give some love to Tenor!Geoff as well. Geoff is getting so good at using his upper register!

"All seem to say... Throw cares awaaaayyyy..." Case in point! Gosh that was so dang gorgeous!

I honestly wish I had more to say about this cover, because it is phenomenal, but basically I sat through most of that rewatch with a massive grin on my face. That was freaking stunning, and honestly a video I'd be dang tempted to watch year-round, because seriously, wow.

In about half an hour from now, VoicePlay's Zat You Santa Claus? cover will be dropping, and then half an hour after that will be my thoughts/commentary for it! (I swear I had to edit the bottom of both this post and the other one because I predicted Geoff's video to be premiering at some point after VoicePlay's, not before). I'm gonna be doing a couple of posts summarising all the videos we've gotten from both Geoff and VoicePlay this year, because why not, and I'll have them posted at some point before Christmas! Now onto Christmas With VoicePlay!

[ryuichirou]

Overblot Riddle X Floyd hcs? :)

Sorry for the late reply, Anon!

The idea of Overblot!Riddle with Floyd is super appealing visually(and I’d gladly draw them like this again at some point if I ever get to it…), but, like I already complained in one of our previous replies, I don’t have a lot of ideas for the Overblot!Boys for some reason. But still, here is a couple of thoughts and headcanons about how they could have interacted~ the fourth one is spicy.

Floyd would be more excited seeing Overblot!Riddle than he was when he saw Overblot!Azul, at least at first. Just the thought of his Goldfishie getting so pissed off that he lost control over himself entirely. His first instinct would probably be to try this Riddle in a fight, no matter how dangerous it is.

But at the same time, Floyd could be surprisingly serious sometimes, so his mood would probably be soured by the fact that this clearly isn’t quite his Goldfishie anymore, plus if they don’t stop him, he’ll probably never get to pester him and fight with him properly anymore. Of course, that’s only more reasons to attack Overblot!Riddle. Floyd could get quite pissed off himself actually lol

Riddle, however, would be super excited to finally smack Floyd across the face with actual power. He always feels helpless and powerless when he’s with Floyd, mostly because Floyd doesn’t listen to him and is an uncontrollable chaotic force that won’t stop bothering Riddle. So finally being powerful enough to get back at him, and to see Floyd so displeased and frankly annoyed, would probably make Riddle ecstatic. 

In fact, the idea that he is unstoppable with this new power and could do anything to Floyd (and also maybe because deep inside he’s hurt by the fact that Floyd doesn’t give him proper attention and just looks annoyed…) could easily lead to him trying to have sex with Floyd. Since Floyd is always flirty with him, gives him mixed messages and stuff, leaving Riddle confused and a bit, of course Riddle’s overly emotional reaction would be to pursue Floyd himself, to see how he likes it being in his shoes. Spoiler alert: not much, so they would have quite an aggressive intercourse with Floyd thrusting into Riddle aggressively at the same time as Riddle tries to take the lead in a reverse cowgirl position.

Out of every “character x overblot!character” couples I feel like these two are the most likely to overblot together, but it all depends on just how long Floyd’s battle with Riddle is going to last + if Floyd plays it smart or decides not to use his head. To be honest, I feel like Floyd would play it smart, plus he isn’t known for overusing his magic, buuuut! It’s still possible.

[cowcat44artz]

Hi! Your chubby All Might art is everything 💛 I'm surprised more people don't draw/write All Might like that. Your fantastic art was literally the first and only I've seen for him like that! Poor guy physically can't eat much or really enjoy food in canon- let that man eat in fanon 👏😤

Anyways- not really an ask but I hope both sides of your pillow are cold and that you have a lovely day 🥰

So sorry for delayed reply, been neglecting this blog.

Oh gosh, what a sweet message, thank you so much! Been feeling rather down about art lately, so this brightened my mood considerably!

Agreed! It is a shame that one, he can't enjoy a proper meal and second that there's hardly any chubby toshi stuff out there. He deserves to be plump and pampered!

Thanks again and have wonderful day and holiday season!🫶🥰🎄