#he's actually fluffier than that coat

[andy-clutterbuck]

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 16/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: i absolutely adore your shadowpeach bio-parents au comics they flow really nicely from post to post, and i looove the balance between angst & fluff i feel as if with shadowpeach, its always either angst or fluff- no inbetween, but somehow you've found a really nice mixture of both thanks for singlehandedly keeping me in the LMK fandom haha

Thank you! Fluff and angst keep going around each other like a microwave ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like with mks monkey form does he have to deal with shedding during summer I think it would be funny if macaque and Mk got fluffier during winter. Wukong wouldn't complain about a fluffy macaque though probably like sleeping with the best plushy.

Oh man I think they do indeed haha. Pigsy would scold MK bc he keeps finding fur hair everywhere in the house

Anonimo ha chiesto: You seem like someone who knows a lot about the LMK fandom, so I must ask where does the idea of Princess Iron Fan and Macaque being sworn siblings come from? Like, is it from JTTW, and im just not aware of it, I'm still trying to learn as much as I can, and I need to actually read the book. The fact that people assume I know a lot about the fandom is so hilarious (not in a mocking way, I'm just very surprised) bc like- I watched the whole show in 1 day, speedwatched Overly sarcastic production recap of JTTW and read half of the book in a week. All of this in July. That's everything that I know from the fandom.

I think it's an headcanon. in JTTW Wukong, Macaque and DBK are all part of the brotherhood so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: First off I LOVE your comic but I have the animal autism and wanted to share some Monkey facts: monkeys don't sweat like humans do they mostly sweat on the palms and feet, areas they have no fur. For overheating monkeys mainly seek shade staying under trees , increase respiration (panting), seeking water sources. Also some species might shed for a thinner coat during summer. Sweating is an exclusively human thing and why humans have been so successful humans are persistent hunters. We would often follow herds for miles waiting for them to tire and overheat while sweating keeps us perfectly cool. Humans are also the only animal to blush. Lol Again no hate love the comic I love me some Flustered blushing gay monkeys. I just have the animal autism and wanted to info dump.

Thank you for the animal fact dump! Those were actually super interesting facts!

@draxeanlxia ha chiesto: Hey question that I have no idea if you already answered but how old is MK in your BIO Parents AU? I know people (usually) believe him to at least 18 due to China’s minimum driving age but others believe him to in his early 20s. Also Mac in your AU said was ‘grown ass man’ during the baby arc. So in your AU, how old is MK?

So. in the AU he's 21 y/o. Meaning that when he arrived to Pigsy door they saw him and went "yeah, he looks around 2/3" and from then they counted on. Buut there's also the thing that he looks a little younger than that age. I wont say anything else.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who your Favorite Lmk character??

mmmmmmm... MK bc he's monkey now. Before season 4 probably Macaque or Wukong. But I have a "thing" for characters discovering they are actually a different species and slowly gaining new/different body features bc of that, so when I saw him flickering at the end of s4 I flew to a different universe. Literally the whole reason this AU exist is because I would die for this trope

Anonimo ha chiesto: What inspired your Human Wukong & Mac designs? Mostly because my brain looks at Macaque and thinks “Cranky middle aged pirate” meanwhile Wukong’s is “That chill gay uncle” (this is based off of purely looks by the way)

Macaque is drama queen so of course he would wear a trenchvoat during fall. plus he's old inside and outside bc of all Wukong bullshit. Wukong is your friendly neighbour who lives in a sketchy house and survives on peach sodas and chips (oh wait that's just canon Wukong.)

ainnur ha chiesto: You know I like how Wukong in your comic just compare something hot with Laozi's furnace. Like with spicy food and time he help MK created the weapon. Mk: You know Wukong you mention Laozi's furnace a lot. Must really tough 49 days for you... Wukong:Yeah worst 49 years *eating peach* Mk: Can tell- wait- years..? Wukong: Yeah a day at heaven is like one year here or so..Do the math, bud *continue to eat the peach* Mk:.... what..? Wukong just casually and accidently recall his trauma because he thought it never effect him like his other trauma. Also the brotherhood have 49 years to help him but they didn't do anything. "Yeah because normally you would rush into my rescue"

Thank you for giving me this traumatic info I didn't know about. Now I will never look at Wukong the same (why did my boy have to suffer so much)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque: I think I'm in love with Wukong . . . Any thoughts. Chiyou: and prayers you're going to need them.

me too bitch, the fuck

@mirror-queen226 ha chiesto: I agree about the last ask you posted (about Wukong surely wearing a dress on a date), and I just couldn't help but say my own headcanon too (with a little bit of knowledge about the ancient times that Wukong was just a child on the jttw and lmk): I dunno if you agree but okay. Honestly, both Wukong and Mac/Mihou (like i usually call him) does not care about clothes, if they feel comfortable with them, be it for woman or man, they'll wear it, especially Wukong though, I feel like he'd act like a famous diva in a on a runway showcasing new high-class clothes from Victoria Secret, Channel, or something, whilst Mac is much more discreet but not too far from that too. And considering Wukong was wearing WOMAN clothes when he was in the brotherhood in the season 4 lmk flashback, it just made me believe in that headcanon even more :) Also, I am really loving your au, it's just so perfect the way you develop every character slow and patiently, keeping their personalities untouched, not changing but instead expanding and showing them a bit more, how they are really trying to improve (Wukong and Mihou in this case) and how satisfying it is to see. I always rush to see the new updates you post about the Biodads au every time i see too, and honestly, one of the 5 best au's ever, you draw so good too, it's adorable! That's all I wanted to say, have a nice day, drink water and take care of your health! 🥰🥰🥰

Yeah true! Like they are shapeshifter, they wouldn't care what species they are, even less the perceived gender norms

Anonimo ha chiesto: Little question, while the monkeys where at Chiyou's forge, shadowpeach where still sleeping together or not?

They were all sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor (but they all were close to each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Generally curious what you think would have happened if MK had not been woken up and the stone wasn't broken what do you think would have happen. would he had grown up on FFM?

Aww he probably would have been raised by Wukong. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: I have question! Does Rumble and Sabage have sentience in your stories? Like, do they have their own personalities like MK clones do? If yes, what do they think of WuKong and MK? Also, will we see more of them? Cause I'd love Mk to meet them when he wasn't stuck as a cub and not remember.

Yeah I think they have a littel bit of personalities. They like both MK and Wukong, but would also do prank on him.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think I won't say I'm in love from Hercules fits macaque very well

The little monkeys are the muse doing backup choir

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we see what a courtnapping room typically looks like?

Courtnapping rooms are made specifically for the courted one, so they are all different. Basically, the room should include everything the courted person would need to live comfortable and also a collection of things they like / to pass the time /love.

It must show that the person courtnapping them is able to provide, care and protect for them. And also knows what makes them happy.

So it can be a huge castle full of jewerly and elegant clothes/ornaments or just a cozy room with some chips and video games.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is LBD going to be a topic in your au again ?

maybe

@wolfasketch ha chiesto: We need MK interacting with his new found Auntie and Uncle please(we also new to see Red being flustered by MK while his parents are around and PIF being like "Ooohhhh")

We are VERY luky Red Son and MK didn't grew up together or we would have thier parents playing love-matching with them while they are toodlers

Anonimo ha chiesto: could we possibly get a traffic light trio and shadopeach grooming train at some point, i would love to see some bonding time between them all <3 and i would love to see mk grooming redsons hair since there's so much of it

Wait who would be the second person to be groomed? I assume RedSon hair are too hot to touch. (when he's flustered, at least)

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like how does Redsons hair/ fire work. Does it just feel warm to MK and Mei. Will it only burn/ hurt you if he doesn't trust you. Another note it must be nice having two fire demon friends during winter.

I think when he's relaxed, the hair is just- a little bit warm, then with his feelings and emotion it can go up to a bigillion degrees, so it's not harmful as long as he can control it.

[ladylokianna]

Some quiet moments

Partially based on my own prompt here and written after this post i casually read today. Hope you enjoy a fluffier and softer Aemond (though i love smut Aemond, i'm totally uncapable of writing something smut).

Warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff.

Pairing: i don't like to write Y/N, so is an Aemond x reader (a nameless wife)

English is not my first language and i am constantly trying to improve, so i apologise for any mistakes.

Also not so good to give a good title, sorry XD

***

You are so busy braiding the flowers the girls brought to you now and then that you did not notice Aemond until the very last moment, when you feel him placing something warm on you –his coat, you noticed shortly afterwards– and his hands carefully place it on your shoulders, lifting the collar to protect your neck, taking care not to crease the flower garland that Jaehaera or one of your daughters had carefully arranged on your hair, loosely braided.

"I knew i'd find you here." Aemond greets you in his usual calm voice, sitting by your side. "You might catch cold, love, summer is still far away."

"Hi darling. I was starting to get a bit chilly, actually, but when the girls and i went out, the sun was still bright and i didn't think about wearing something warmer." you answer with a big smile, interrupting what you were doing to take and hold his hand. "And what about you? I can see you're tired."

He told you about his day, spent travelling around the realm between meetings and state matters.

"Then you should reach the Council, they must be waiting for you." you reason.

"They can wait." he reply, encircling your shoulders with his arm and holding you close to him. In your lap, under the flowers you are weaving, Aemond noticed one of his books. "How was your day?"

"It was less interesting than yours, i'm afraid. As always i tried with little success to read something in valyrian, i had lunch with Alicent and spent some time embroidering with Helaena and... just an hour ago, i was crowned queen of the garden." you say cheerfully. You then point to the blue flowers you carry in the lap. "However, i advise you to be careful, because the girls are looking for your favourite flowers with all the intentions of crowning you too."

"That's a risk i'm willing to take, if i can have you alone for a few minutes without having to share you with someone else." he chuckles, surrounding you in a tight hug and leaving many small kisses on your temple.

Feeling him so relaxed and calm during the day is a rare thing, accustomed as he is to always being on guard, always on the alert, ready to detect the slightest sign of danger to react accordingly. Suddenly you both heard the girls' laughter grow closer, a sign that they are returning from their search.

"...i was thinking that i would love to have another baby."

"You want to fill the Red Keep with children?" you ask, amused.

"Why not? After all, our son and i are blatantly outnumbered, and if we are not careful enough, we will certainly end up being overwhelmed by you girls."

You rub his leg affectionately, leaning the head back to get a better look at him.

"I will think about it." you reply. "But who knows, if tonight and... let's say maybe those to come, you would decide to read me something in valyrian, i might... you know... think better about it."

"Wait... is all what it takes? Some reading in high valyrian?"

"Maybe."

"Good enough for me, we have a deal."

You giggle, before he kiss you tenderly.

"I said maybe, Aem."

"You cannot recant now, a deal is a deal."

Jaehaera and her three little cousins, their arms laden with flowers, stood at some distance from the bench giggling between themselves at seeing you two embracing, until your middle daughter run towards you, eager to give her dad something she had picked up in the gardens.

"Can i bring it to Vhagar?" she asked, showing to Aemond a huge yellow flower.

"Vhagar is resting now, my love. We will bring it to her tomorrow. Keep it safe, will you?" promise Aemond. He look up, smiling lovingly at the other two daughters and Jaehaera as well. "Hello, my loves."

The youngest search her father's attention by placing both of her little hands on his face, trying to greet him in valyrian and giggling when Aemond, with a cheeky grin, pretend to nibble on her fingers.

"This one is for you instead." Jaehaera smiles at her uncle, taking the garland you had finished weaving.

She ask him to lean against the back of the bench, but Aemond, with a theatrical gesture, knelt before her, bowing the head as if during a real coronation, before she puts the garland on his head and untying the string that keep his hair neatly tied back, then began braiding it and showing your younger daughter how to do it properly.

If Criston Cole, sent by Aegon to find Aemond, is astonished to faced with that scene, he did not show it, but he take a few long moments to call him, perhaps undecided whether to interrupt that idyll or not.

"I really have to go now." sighs Aemond in a very low voice. "See you later."

[novelizt]

THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ fluff with a little angst, friends to lovers (everyone can see it)

SYNOPSIS ➺ you're back in town. as promised, lockwood welcomes you with open arms. the only difficulty was the fact that you kissed the last time you saw each other.

WC ➺ 4.8k

DISCLAIMER ➺ fem! wedding planner! reader, and i try to write a more descriptive kiss scene (i apologize in advance), the trio has been aged up to about 18-19, and lockwood calls reader 'sweetheart' but in a totally (not) platonic way.

WARNINGS ➺ profanity (one curse word), reader is briefly jealous of lucy, QUILL KIPPS, description of pools and being underwater, a little suggestive but nothing graphic

NOTE ➺ here's the beginning of my 1989 TV sonfic collection!! (full collection masterlist will be out on oct 27.) belly and jeremiah's pool kiss popped into my head while writing. do with that information as you will. this also came out fluffier than i intended it to be. @t2sh0 , here's one of your favorite 1989 tracks turned into a fic, i hope you enjoy 💙

Anthony Lockwood had a way of charming people. You knew you were a goner the second he flashed his teeth at you.

In the eleven months you were employed in Lockwood & Co., you hoped that the subtle touches over case files or the longing glances across the table meant the same to him as it did to you.

That said, you weren't sure what to make of it when he did kiss you—right before you boarded a plane out of the country. You tried to imagine it to be as magical as you dreamed of, but the only impression it left was a confusing one.

Did he kiss you out of pity? Did he do it because you might never come back? Did he do it because it was a spur of the moment thing?

Luckily, your studies distracted you enough to give you some peace. It's only when the world settled into night that you pondered it over and over again, until you agonized over it enough to cry yourself to sleep.

Your contemplations still haunted you as you lugged your bag off the conveyor belt, actually breathing in London air for the first time in three years. When you centered yourself, you scanned the crowd and found your name scrawled in messy, familiar handwriting. The person that held the sign hadn't aged a day.

Lockwood looked older than he did when you first met him, but, now, he had grown into himself. His smile remained unchanged. It speared you in the heart, just like it did the first time.

"Hello, stranger." He was first to speak.

"Hi," you said. You considered adding a witty remark but found that you couldn't conjure one up as quickly as you used to. Instead, you smiled to fill in the awkward silence.

He returned your grin but it didn't reach his eyes. You didn't say anything else before he lowered the sign and held out his arm. You let out an uneasy laugh as you shrugged your bag off your shoulder and onto his.

Even if your mind grappled for something to start with, small talk didn't pick up like how you imagined it would. How could it? The last time he walked beside you, you two were different people. At least, you were.

You were never going to be the kids who bumped fists or laughed at jokes only you two knew again. You were never going to be his partner in crime the same way you were years ago.

Your talent had nulled, leaving you with the only choice to pursue a new life elsewhere, in another country. You knew you had changed, but did Lockwood? The uncertainty was a stake between you. He was acting like nothing was wrong, which made it difficult to gauge whether his lack of speaking was on purpose or he was as lost as you were.

He had taken the side of the walk closest to the road—like he always did. You remembered that he said it was the "most gentlemanly thing to do in the presence of a lady." You called bullshit, but you found yourself softening 'round the edges thanks to his chivalry.

You paced a ways behind him, watching his back and the swish of his coat tails. Like a dagger to the heart, you realized that his coat was new.

"What happened to the trusty old boy?"

It was your first attempt at a conversation. You hoped your voice didn't quiver.

Lockwood slowed his pace to fall in line beside you before shooting you a confused look. Realization hit shortly after. He pinched the lapels of his coat. "You mean my old coat?"

"Yeah." You smiled, forcing yourself to make it convincing. "What happened to it?"

"Lost it," he explained. He chuckled with a far-off look in his eye. It was a fond memory by the looks of it. "Smeared in plasma. There was no salvaging it. Why, you miss it?"

"A little bit," you lied.

He had kept you warm under that coat on more than one occasion. You knew where the seams unraveled, and you knew what he put in each of its pockets. You missed it terribly, and it wasn't even yours. Just like a certain someone. It was pathetic, really.

If he had caught on to your disappointment, he didn't show it. Instead, he teased you with a smile. "Life goes on, sweetheart." He closed the space between you to nudge your arm, just like the good ole days. "There's plenty of coats in the sea."

You stiffle a laugh behind your hand. The endearment had brought the butterflies in your belly back to life. Three years and that hadn't changed at all, and only Anthony could make you chuckle over a bad joke. "Yeah? Where did this one come from?"

He shrugged, pursing his lips. "I haven't got a clue. George and Lucy got it for me."

George, you knew. He was the grump who refused to say one good thing about you but didn't hesitate to make you lime pie when you were in low spirits.

Lucy . . . Lucy was new. Her name had made your hair stand. "Lucy?"

Lockwood snapped his fingers. "Ah, that's what I forgot to tell you." He looked both ways before taking your arm and crossing the street. Portland Row was standing right in front of you, but it felt different now that you knew that someone else was occupying your old room. "Lucy Carlyle is our newest recruit. A Listener. A bloody good one, at that."

He looked elated, so you knew she was doing good for the agency. Something about the way he talked about her made your heart sink.

You were still coming up with a reply when Portland Row cracked open and George Karim's face entered your periphery. He wasn't the type to smile widely, but you took the minute tilt of his lips as an attempt at one.

Perhaps the trip had warped your senses because that was probably the most enthusiastic you'd ever heard him. "About time you came back, trouble."

Aww, he remembered you. The sentiment comforted you more than you cared to admit.

—

Lucy Carlyle's eyes widened the moment Lockwood introduced you. Something finally clicked for her, yet you didn't know what it was. All you really did was shuffle awkwardly and utter a feeble "nice to meet you."

"Oh my God . . . You're the agent they can't shut up about," she grinned.

Lockwood's nettled eyes darted to you. "'Can't shut up about' is being generous."

"Come off it," Lucy scoffed, swatting him away as if he were nothing more than a mosquito. "I was wondering if your name was some weird code. "You-know-who would know what to do", "I'd kill to have her help right about now." Ugh! Now it makes sense!"

Lockwood set his fists on his hips, licking his lips in search of an alibi. "George brought you up more often than not."

George shot him a glare—one that threatened to break the biscuit rule. "Because you'd start. Then you'd talk even louder if I told you to shut up."

"You were part of the conversation regardless."

"Well, she wasn't! You just couldn't quit your yap—"

Lucy kicked out one of the chairs at the table. You smiled gratefully as you took the seat, the boys' bickering melting into the background.

"Are you rejoining the agency?" Lucy asked, propping her elbow on the table. "I'm on the brink of going insane, so I could use a friend. One that doesn't think it's normal to walk around without a shirt or trousers."

You graced her with a gentle laugh. "That's the boys for you, but I'm afraid not, no. I no longer have the Talent to stay in this line of work..." You look down at your hands, remembering the countless stars you wished on to fix you. None of them granted your wish. Your Touch never came back to you. You'd abscessed over the same issue countless times before but now that you were back, you were writing a new chapter of your life. You clenched your fist with reborn determination. "Lockwood promised that I would always have a place here while I get back on my feet, and it would be lovely to be friends with you. Right now, I'm looking for places to bring my other skills. Just because my abilities changed doesn't mean the world will wait for me to get used to it."

When you looked up, you were surprised to not only find Lucy's glazed eyes on you, but George and Lockwood's, too. George coughed into his fist, turning away and finding interest in the kettle. Lockwood's brows furrowed, etching lines of sadness across his face. Lucy tried to plaster on a smile.

"You're very brave. I wouldn't know what to do if my Talent started to fade," Lucy said, hoping the vote of confidence would do what she intended it to.

You appreciated the sentiment but the sorrow in the recess of your mind would always stick at the mention of Talent. "Thank you, Lucy. And you don't have to worry about that right now. From what I hear, you're the best Listener in London." You placed your elbow on the table then set your cheek on your palm. "Tell me, what is the most horrendous thing you've heard?"

—

"I wouldn't mind sharing a room, really."

Despite Lucy's willingness, Lockwood refuted it. "Nice as you are, Luce, half the things you keep up there will unsettle her. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, an amused smile on your face. "I was an agent, too. It takes a lot to bother me, Anthony. I didn't turn into a wuss just because I've been out of the country."

"Yes, well," Lockwood flourished his hand. "She keeps a jarred skull swimming in sludge with her. Letting you witness that tragedy would be unjust of me."

"I can handle it," you reassure positively. Skull in a jar sounded intriguing. The bigger question was why Lucy kept it in her room, but the was a question for another day.

Lockwood shook his head. When he crossed his arms, you knew the meeting had been adjourned.

"Are we really surprised?" George whispered to you on the way upstairs.

You chuckled and shook your head. "Not really."

—

The only reason you were familiar with Lockwood's room involved chess matches at the most ungodly hours of night. When insomnia had troubled you, you'd come right down, plop the board in the middle of the bed, and play until one or both of you would slump over.

You wondered if he was itching to even the score from three years ago, but you were surprised by the order in which he put his room in. Lockwood wasn't one to worry about a mess, but he was conscious enough to put it away that day. It was the tidiest you'd ever seen the place.

The only stain was the chessboard on the bed and your luggage that had taken over the ottoman at the foot of said bed.

When you rounded on him to ask, he presented you with a smug smile. "We have a lot to catch up on. What better way than over a game of chess?"

You crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg. "Because I won last time?"

"And that," he admitted, shuffling over to his side of the bed and claiming the white pieces. "You know me so well, sweets."

You shook your head in a beguiled way, charmed by his truthfulness. "You're so predictable."

His eyes lit up, like they always did when he was presented a challenge. "See if you can say the same when I check your king."

"In your dreams, Anthony Lockwood." The bed dipped as you sat on your side, mentally prepping yourself to spend the night humbling him whilst trying not to stare at the motions of his hands for too long.

He moved the first pawn, and the game began.

You were so immersed, you missed the book folded open on his bedside table. In it was highlighted: 'the best way to beat jet lag; stay awake for as long as you can.'

—

You finally had a foot in the door three weeks after arriving in London. Sure, it wasn't glamorous and you spent more time advertising yourself than making money, but it was progress nonetheless.

Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, but the fact that Quill Kipps was also a resident in these parts completely went over your head. You received your reminder when he had reached for the book you wanted for you. It took a little effort not to sneer at him—muscle memory.

You wouldn't have obliged but Kipps had already started a conversation. "Thought I'd never see you here again, trouble." As nasty as he usually was, he didn't show it. Dare you say he was civil? He even smiled at you. Chills. "Does Tony know?"

You clutched the book to your chest, disconcerted by how kind he was being. "He does, yeah. I'm staying with him until I can afford a place of my own."

"Figures," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was looking a lot like himself. "I'm surprised he hasn't popped the question."

Your jaw tensed. You had a sudden urge to thunk him over the head to get his mind back in order. "That's because there is no question to pop, Kipps." You looked away, mustering the last of your patience. "My Talent faded. I plan weddings for a living now. I don't have much of a name here yet so business is quite slow."

You didn't see his face change but you sure heard it. "Sorry to hear that..."

"Me, too. I guess."

"Don't give me cheek. I quit because my Talent faded, too."

Your eyes bugged out. The admission was like a carpet being pulled out from under you. "You're kidding."

He chuckled morosely. "I wish I was. I'm trying to find my way but it is challenging."

"With that attitude, of course it is."

Kipps snorted, squaring his shoulders. It didn't do much. He looked as punchable as he usually did. "You sound like him."

"I don't think so. He has more to say about you than I do. He makes me look nice."

Kipps nodded, giving you an invisible tip of a hat. There was a period of brief silence before he opened his mouth again. "Say, the complex I live in has a vacancy on the third floor. If you're interested, I can give you the address."

You tapped the cover of your book, mentally tallying the pros and cons before shrugging. "What's the harm in asking? I have a yellow note in my bag, let me fetch it.

"I'll come along. I'm about to get my books checked anyway."

You allowed him to follow you to your table and bade your tense farewells after he had scribbled down the address and the custodian's telephone.

—

It was no mystery that Lockwood had caught wind of the momentary interaction. You were unaware of how, but he had ways, apparently. He caught up to you on your walk home.

"Was he bothering you?" was the first thing he asked.

He came out of nowhere, so it was reasonable that his voice made you jump. You didn't expect to be intercepted at a cross-walk, of all places. With one look at his face, you relaxed then resumed your steps. "Who are you talking about, Lockwood?"

"Kipps," he said quickly. "was he bothering you?"

"Oh," you look down at the yellow note wedged in the cover of your book. "no. He just gave me a referral for a flat."

Lockwood disappeared from your periphery. For a moment, you thought that would be the end of it, but then you remembered that whenever it involved Quill Kipps, he would never keep his nose out of it. Lockwood returned to your side not long after. "You're staying in Portland Row," he said with the conviction of a hundred unspoken confessions. "You don't need rubbish referrals."

"I can't room with you forever," you replied. You faltered because of the hurt on his face. You must have imagined it because he was back to normal in a blink of an eye. You steeled yourself. "Lockwood & Co. is a psychical agency, not a rental place. And I have weddings to plan. I need more space."

"We can make room in the library," he bargained.

You halted in your steps, raising a brow at him. "You've never seen a proper wedding planning if you think that little room will suffice. You need that space for your case documents."

"We can move them to the office," he insisted, stopping in front of you. He thought a smile would work but you didn't budge, even after he showed you his best grin. "We can make it work."

You sighed, exasperated. The street was empty, so you had nothing else to preoccupy your mind with. "Lockwood... I can't plan weddings in the same house George rants about the Problem in."

"I really don't see the issue there."

He sealed his lips when you narrowed your eyes at him.

—

If Anthony Lockwood was anything, it was petty. A few nights later, he deposited himself in the seat beside you and decided to made your business his business.

"I think the ivory looks better with that shade of violet."

You cocked a brow at him, flipping to the next page of your photo book. "Pray tell, what are you doing here?"

With an unmoving smile, he said, "Learning a thing or two about wedding planning, so I can gauge just how much room you need."

"Lockwood... You don't have to be here."

"Oh, but I do," he retorted. "Lest you make a hasty decision, like living in a flat with Quill Kipps."

He flinched when you shut the book. The cold stare you gave him was just as paralyzing. "I won't be living in a flat with Kipps. He'd be living in the floor below mine. And for your peace of mind, this isn't a hasty decision. I'm only staying here until I can afford to rent my own place."

He bit the inside of his cheek. "Why do you have to go? We're perfectly happy here, aren't we? George knows your favorite recipes, Lucy's ecstatic to have another girl around, and I— well, I . . ."

"You . . . ?" Hope, like you've never felt before, rushed through you. Your ears could hear a pin drop with how attentive you were then.

Much to your disappointment, he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "I would hate to lose a friend."

It was flattering, truly, but you were hoping for more than that. Perhaps an indication that the kiss three years ago had actually meant something. When he said nothing about it, you reverted back to assuming your affections were unrequited. Dejected, you thumbed at the pages of the photobook.

"I won't be leaving soon, and we'd still be friends when I move somewhere else," you reassure. You found it hard to get the words out. There was a prickling feeling behind your eyes you tried to bat away. You turned your attention to the flower options splayed on the coffee table. You were seeing, but you weren't absorbing anything. "I'll be here a while so you don't have to worry."

"Right..." He sounded even more dejected than you. You fought the urge to look up at him with every fiber of your being.

Your heart fell when he got up and abandoned you in the library. Even if you were surrounded by photographs of weddings—the happiest day of some lucky people's lives—you couldn't find a drop of joy when Lockwood had taken all of it with him.

—

The thing about realizations were that they always came late. Especially for someone as dense as Anthony Lockwood.

When he had turned the events of that night over in his head, he realized that he had been a fool. He was saying something, but he wasn't actually getting a message across. For someone who valued verbal affirmation, you must have felt alienated.

He had resolved to apologize, and apologize thoroughly. He had put on his best suit under his coat and picked his best shoes (the only ones without plasma burns) before heading to the site you told Lucy you were heading to that day. He sacrificed his five turns in the biscuit rotation to get the information from her, but he couldn't be too mad about it when he finally laid his eyes on you.

You traded your usual trousers and blouse in for a dress. Not that you weren't pretty in trousers and blouses, but the fact that your dress was white altered something in his brain. Something was wrong with him. Could have been anticipation. Could have been the terrible urge to get down on one knee.

He shook his head, putting that idea on the back burner. He was there to grovel for forgiveness. He had to apologize before all else.

Lockwood, with reborn inspiration, approached. Striding closer and closer—eyes trained on you.

Only one thing was on his mind, and that one fact may have been the cause of his downfall, because he hadn't seen the toy at the lip of the pool before it was too late.

Your face grew further and further until his body had broke the surface of the water. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. All he could see was blue. All he could feel was the cold. A sharp inhale hurt. Opening his eyes stung.

Once his feet reached the bottom of the pool, sense returned to him. He kicked off, gasping for air when he reached the surface. Another splash forced him to shut his eyes.

Then he heard it: The frantic way you were calling his name.

Your hair was matted to your head and drips of water slid down your face, yet, you looked as majestic as ever. You were a vision. His voice had been stolen, perhaps his heart, too (as if it wasn't already).

He regained feeling in his face when you set your hands on his cheeks. Then the world came rushing back. The splashing of water, the commotion that caused passerbys to run, and your voice that called to him above all that.

"Anthony? Anthony! Oh, heavens, are you okay?" You smoothed the hair away from his eyes. He wondered if you knew that it made him love you even more. "That was terrible fall. Are you hurt? Bleeding?"

He shouldn't be enjoying your doting when you were so obviously stressed over his condition, but how could he think straight when you were at arm's length—just this close to touching lips with him.

And you were touching him. Your palms were warm on his cheeks, cozied up under his ears. You could feel him smile if you wanted to.

It was no place or time to think about kissing you. He had talked himself out of it countless times before, but his restraint crumbled the moment he witnessed your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip.

He knew it was your nervoud tick, but his mind went blank. He seared every detail into his memory before he threw caution to the wind.

He found your waist, clutched your dress, and drew you to him with the urgency that had been restrained for years.

He's not sure whether you kissed back right away, but he did know that you were. Just as eager as he was.

With ignited confidence, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your fingers carded into his hair and you clung to his shoulders for stability.

It was painfully obvious that Touch was your specialty. Every brush of your fingertips set fire across his skin. He wouldn't forget it, even if he tried. His arms wound around you, his palm finding the back of your neck to hold you fast to him.

For a second, you parted. He caught a glimpse of your dazed eyes and ephemeral smile before you brought your lips down on his once more. You could very well be the death of him.

The belief grew stronger as you grew bolder, shifting to be able to wrap your legs around him. Squeezing your thighs against waist and warranting a gasp. You felt the rumble against your lips and beneath your fingers, earning a smile.

You would have done so much worse if a rigid scoff hadn't cut through the lavender haze.

He pulled away. You blinked, still encroached by the spur of the moment. The smell of chlorine polluted the space between you, but that only made your senses heighten. You were staring at Lockwood as water clung to his lashes. He was smiling at you, and you were smiling just as much. His thumb drew circled into your waist, and your fingers grazed the nape of his neck. It was chilling, in the best way.

The scoff came again, stealing your attention. Both of you looked up at the hotel manager with sheepish grins.

"Hello, sir," Lockwood started, amping up his charm with a disarming laugh. "Contrary to what you may be thinking, this didn't happen in purpose."

The hotel manager didn't buy any of it. He raised a practiced brow and regarded Lockwood with a frown that rivaled a wishbone.

There was no corporate talk that would get you out of this. You chuckled, patting Lockwood's back for the good try, but you already knew security was on the way.

"I take it that you're not hurt?" you murmured to Lockwood.

"No. In case I am, would you like to take my shirt off and take a look for yourself?"

You two had to walk home in soaked clothes, but you did take him up on his offer. Excitedly, too. Suffice to say, he didn't have a bruise on him.

—

You and Lockwood had returned to your roots; a peaceful game of chess. You had the upper hand on the board but Lockwood felt like a winner just seeing you in his shirt.

"Just in case it wasn't clear, I'd like to be more than friends," he said. He had lost another bishop but he was fine with it because you smiled at him.

"Yes. I know that now, Anthony."

"I don't want to just be friends with benefits either."

You snorted, amused. "I understand that, too."

He didn't move a piece until you looked at him. "It would pain me if you moved out. Three years apart was bad enough."

Your gaze softened and you reached across the board to hold his hand. He was the one who laced your fingers together. "I won't be going anywhere."

"Good," he chirped, eyes alight. "because I've already began moving the shelves into the office. You can have the library for work."

Even with your best efforts, you couldn't help but laugh. He bent toward you, wishing he could bottle the sound. "You are ridiculous, you know that?"

"I do," he said, inflating his chest. "and I'd like to be your lover as well."

You cocked a brow. "Would you?"

He squeezed your hand lightly, eyes shining with determination. "I can hear you thinking, sweetheart. What do I have to do to get you to say 'yes'?"

If he hadn't stolen your heart already, the way he raised your hands to his lips and planted a kiss on each of your knuckles would have. His eyes never strayed, honey brown eyes placating yours.

"Sweetheart?" he hummed, pleading for an answer.

You drew out the silence for a little longer. You felt that it was fair for him to suffer, just for a little while. He was the catalyst for years upon years of emotional turmoil.

But he had resolved it all with another kiss, this time on the sweet spot on your wrist—just over your racing pulse.

You were kind enough to put him out of his misery. "Kiss me again."

You were weak for how he smiled then.

"Gladly," he whispered, sliding the board aside and sending the chess pieces toppling to the floor to fulfill your request.

Your complaints were squashed down by his lips. He'd never forget the way you laughed as he tackled you into his bed.

Well, it was yours now, too.

NOTE ➺ did you notice that everyone calls reader 'trouble' but lockwood calls her 'sweetheart' 👀👀 i want what they have.

i have so many ideas lined up for my boy, but i just don't have much time to write them. life got busy lol.

anyway, this is the first of many 1989 TV songfics!! master list for the whole collection will be out on 1989 TV release day, I promise. i'll do my best to finish more wips because you can never have too much anthony lockwood.

i've also been thinking about making a tag list but I'm not sure how to go about that...

as always, don't be shy to leave some feedback, constructive criticism, or cute lil comments! i love raving about my boy 💙 i hope you enjoyed this one, because this isn't the last of me!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[emerald-cloud23]

Morri & Euphie ponies side by side + minor design changes (+ overall design differences) listed below

Morro only got his scars & I actually included the piercings on the same layer as my outlines, that's why they're not silver.. Accident on my part. Other than that he's the same. His mane is supposed to look like part of it (the one with the gradient) is flowing in the wind, incase that's unclear. (Also, I drew him after Euphie & had to use a different brush because I just couldn't get his anatomy to work with the thicker one.. sad inconsistency but necessary.)

Euphrasia got minor updates- mainly the removal of the short yellow line at the inner corner of the eyes, a blue gradient on her ears, yellow inner ears & a gradient of blue to purple on her chest that would transition back into her pale coat & the one hoof/leg design on her full ref. I also settled for the pink hair color because it looks more like a fluffy sunset cloud & gave it a light gradient at the bottom to make it look like the sun lighting up a cloud from below.

Generally, their designs are very different & that was the original idea I had when I first designed Euphie. The obvious differences between these masters of wind are that Morro is male, Euphie is female, he's evil (originally), she's good, he's dead, she's alive.. Yeah. Their designs are supposed to show more than that. I imagine she's shorter than average and chubby (at the least! I like the thought of her being somewhere more on the above average weight scale more than her being average or underweight) while he's tall and skinny & struggles with gaining weight (like I did because of my thyroid when I was younger! I don't hc him as starving himself.) and his fur is short while hers is longer and fluffier (fluffy chest & fluffy feathers on og reference). His design looks complicated because of the tentacle-like swirls while Euphie has barely any markings on her coat. Oh, did I already mention they're both pegasi? Well, now I did. Also, Morri has fangs but I sucked at drawing them so they're not here. Ah, and their eyebrows are also a nice little difference with his being thin and long and hers short and round (and having 2 colors while his only have 1). I thinks that's all I have to say about them

[delimeful]

a still-glowing ember (3)

warnings: panic, guilt, injury mention, mentions of assumed character death (mistaken), arguing, lmk if i missed any

-

Virgil had spent nearly half the night attempting to coax the sprite’s spark back into something resembling a healthy state, feeling his stress levels spike unbearably with every pained twitch his unconscious patient had made. Working to heal someone that small, even with the assistance of magic, was no simple feat. It had been hours of exacting, meticulous work that had left him exhausted.

So, naturally, mere moments after Virgil finally called the job done, crawled into bed, and managed to fall asleep, the little idiot woke up and started shrieking loud enough to wake the dead.

Virgil had left the sprite on an extra pillow next to him, one of his hands cupped over the tiny figure to monitor any sudden changes in temperature, which basically meant that he’d gotten an unwanted earful at close range.

For someone who’d barely been able to string two words together before, the sprite certainly had a set of lungs on him. Stars almighty, that was loud.

“Will you cut that out?” he groaned with his face still half-mushed into his pillow, only earning himself an alarmed, shrill whistle-chirp and frantic scrabbling under his hand in response. Ugh. Sprites.

Did the guy not remember Virgil literally going to embarrassing lengths to save his life a handful of hours ago, or something?

Well. Actually, thinking back, he was pretty sure the sprite had been more-or-less unconscious at that point, only latching onto Virgil’s proffered magic after much nudging and coaxing of that terrifyingly unresponsive form. Maybe he actually didn’t recall any of that.

In that case, he had a little more sympathy. Not enough to keep him from pushing up onto his elbows and sending the noisy creature a nasty glare, but enough that he didn’t jump directly to mostly-facetious threats on the sprite’s life. See? Forget what everyone who’d ever met him had said, he was a master of restraint and compassion.

“Seriously, pipe down. I’m trying to sleep over here.” Okay, so not that much compassion.

The sprite’s wings were aggressively fluffed up behind him, meaning they hadn’t turned into frostbitten hunks of flesh and fallen off in the night, which was good. Virgil knew elemental beings were far more resistant to physical damage than most mortal types were, but feeling someone so iced-over always brought around that old panic anyhow.

Mostly assured that the sprite wasn’t going to keel over the moment he wasn’t in contact with him, Virgil retracted his hand entirely, leaving the sprite sprawled out on the pillow, breathing hard as his bedraggled feathers puffed up further. Virgil shifted into his fluffier form, as though his fur coat would chase away even the memory of the chill, and curled up more firmly, wrapping his tail around his paws. If he could just get a few more minutes of rest…

“I’ve been abducted,” the sprite said to himself, the words starting as a near whisper and slowly growing to a near wail. “I was nearly frozen, hunted for sport, and now I’ve been kidnapped away for my transgressions!”

Uggghh. He shifted back, mostly for ease of speech, and rolled his eyes when the sprite tried to scramble back and mostly just tripped over himself.

“I didn’t kidnap you,” he grumbled, turning his head to stare with one half-lidded eye. “I basically saved your life, actually, so maybe you should be a little more gracious.”

“Gracious?!” the sprite echoed in a shriek that was far too high-pitched for Virgil’s sleep deprivation-fried brain. “I’m fairly certain you threatened to end my life, not preserve it!”

Now, that much was probably true. Even if he hadn’t meant it, he certainly might have said something along those lines. He tended to get a little snappish when he was irritated, and also when it was cold out, and also when people bothered him in his own damn territory.

In short, the sprite had been dealt an extremely unlucky hand last night, in regards to Virgil specifically. And… intentional or not, he had almost gotten the tiny idiot killed.

He still remembered how his spiteful satisfaction at scaring the living daylights out of a rude intruder had slowly begun to shift into a creeping feeling of dread as the sprite utterly failed to do anything resembling normal flying, let alone escaping. The moment his fingers had wrapped around that ice-cold frame, the apprehension had abruptly firmed into the certainty that something was terribly wrong.

No creature of fire should ever feel so still and icy, especially not a lively, quick-burning sprite.

Virgil’s ears pressed flat against his skull, his guilt swamping him again. He supposed he probably at least owed the guy an explanation. Uuuuggghhhh.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told the sprite, tucking his hands under himself in an act of goodwill. “I know we got off on the wrong foot—,”

“The wrong foot?! An upside-down centipede has less wrong feet than our meeting!” the sprite screeched, continuing to be far more verbose when he wasn’t in the middle of freezing to death. Funny how that worked.

“Okay, fine,” Virgil cut in. “I heavily implied that I was going to murder you, but in my defense, I had no idea you were actually in a prime state to be murdered at the time, and also I’d been having a really bad night.”

The sprite stared at him like he was insane, and Virgil felt his shoulders rise to hunch up around his ears. This was why he didn’t talk to people.

“You had a bad night?!” the sprite asked in a near-shout, his tone incredulous.

The indignant question was accompanied by a twitch of movement, like the sprite had attempted to throw his arms up in an exasperated gesture only to find one limb restrained. He looked down at the sling around his injured arm, blinking in bewilderment.

“Okay, that one wasn’t my fault,” Virgil protested preemptively. “You were already like that when I— hey, hey! Don’t jostle it, jeez!”

He reached forward despite himself, gently batting the sprite’s hand away from the sling. Naturally, he earned himself a buffeting slap from one of those tiny wings for his good deed, but going by the horrified stare the sprite sent his own appendage, Virgil was fairly sure the motion had been entirely instinctual.

“Seriously, don’t mess with that,” he instructed, slowly withdrawing once it became clear that the sprite had gone stock-still with fear. “It took me ages to put together a sling that tiny, let alone tie it. Just leave it be.”

The sprite’s face pinched with uncertainty. “You made this? Why?”

There it was, the exact question he’d been trying to avoid. Great, just great.

He shrugged, faux-casual. “Maybe I just didn’t want some random pesky sprite dropping dead in my stretch of woods. Bad for the decor or whatever.”

The sprite narrowed his eyes at him, clearly not buying it.

“Look,” Virgil said, trying to head off the accusations of nefarious plots that he could practically see on the tip of the sprite’s tongue, “I clearly could have murdered you, and I didn’t, so can we just agree to not ask any more questions and part ways as unfriendly strangers?”

“What did you mean, you were having a bad night?” the sprite asked, apparently deciding to completely ignore Virgil’s very reasonable suggestion.

“I mean, I was having a bad night,” Virgil repeated with the slightest growl to the words. “I got robbed by annoying pixies twice, and now I’m going to have to go repair those boundary markers and make sure that nothing snuck in while they were down, which means I’ll have to waste a whole day just scouring the forest when I have winter supplies to be storing—,”

“Twice?” the sprite echoed, face pinching even further into a confused frown. “I only stole one boundary marker— and under severe duress, with all intention of returning the pilfered power once I had recovered at home!”

Virgil rolled his eyes, ignoring the tacked-on excuses. “Yeah, but you were the second sprite to do that. Like, my bad for thinking both times were you, but in my defense, the other sprite looked pretty damn similar—,”

“There was another sprite?” the sprite interrupted again, and this time he didn’t even seem to notice Virgil’s annoyed growl, his entire body gone tense with a sudden sharp focus. “You’re sure?”

Virgil frowned, a foreboding feeling creeping up on him. “Yeah, especially with what you just said. In hindsight, there were signs that the two of you were different. You were tripping over your words, while the first guy nearly woke the whole forest with all the maniacal shrieking laughter.”

“Remus,” the sprite whispered with wide eyes, his hands fisting in the loose fabric of the pillow. “Did you see which way he went?”

For the first time, he was leaning toward Virgil, practically hanging on his every word as he sought the answer.

“I dunno, north-ish?” Virgil replied, ears flicking back in slight bewilderment. “I wasn’t exactly close enough to catch him. What, do you know the guy or— woah! What are you doing?”

The sprite had pushed himself to his feet in one determined motion, and now pinwheeled, trying to keep his balance atop the soft surface of the pillow. His wings were lifting sluggishly into position, like he actually thought the ragged limbs would carry him anywhere in his current state.

Virgil hovered a hand nearby, prepared to catch the idiot when he want toppling down, but the sprite ducked away.

“I’m going to go find my brother,” the sprite spat, looking as though he’d like nothing better than for Virgil to try and stop him. “He’s out there, alone!”

The sense of foreboding doubled. The odds of a fire sprite, even one ballsy enough to steal three territory markers, surviving a winter storm all through the night were extremely low.

“If you go out there in this state, the only thing you’ll accomplish is crashing and dislocating your other shoulder,” he warned, trying to soften the bite in his voice as much as possible. “The forest is huge. There’s no way you’ll find him, wherever he is.”

Whatever condition he’s in, Virgil didn’t add, because even he had some tact.

“I don’t care,” the sprite said, chin lifted stubbornly as he started taking wobbly steps down the side of the pillow, heading for the edge of the bed. “He’s my brother. I’m not going to just abandon him!”

Virgil groaned. There was virtually no way the other sprite was alive, but there was no point telling his guest that, not when the tremble to his chin showed that he was already well aware, and determined to see this through anyhow.

…At the very least, anyone who’d lost family deserved the closure of finding their body.

The sprite reached the edge of the bed and surveyed the drop, lifting his shaking wings into position to catch the den’s still air the best they could.

With a sigh, Virgil reached out and wrapped his hand around the sprite before he could jump, lifting him up into the air despite his furious protests.

“What’s your name?” he asked, and the non-sequitur was enough to grab the sprite’s attention for at least a moment.

“It’s Roman,” he snapped, and the way his wings were smacking at Virgil’s hand in protest were entirely purposeful, this time. “Now, let me go—!”

“Okay, Roman, look. You’re going to get yourself killed if you go alone,” Virgil informed him. “And seeing as I just spent a ridiculous amount of time preventing your untimely demise, I’ll be really irritated if you kick the bucket now.”

Roman’s face screwed up with clear anger, but before he could start shouting, Virgil set him down solidly on his shoulder, making sure that he was well balanced before releasing him.

“So,” he continued, swinging his legs around to stand himself, “if you promise not to yell directly in my ear, I guess I can keep all that hard work from going to waste by going with you.”

He could practically hear the way Roman’s brain ground to a halt, struggling to shift gears. “You’re going to help me?”

Virgil shrugged his unoccupied shoulder, heading for his den’s entryway. “Might as well. It’s not like it’ll be too difficult to track down the scent, if he smells anywhere near as strong as you.”

Roman laughed, a short, surprised bark. “He— Trust me, he’s much worse.”

“Ugh, great,” Virgil replied with a wrinkle of his nose, and tried not to think about what they’d do whenever they did find whatever was left of Roman’s brother.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Tails for all! - Avisos edition

Other parts: Kings | Gehenna | Tartaros | Hades | Nilfheim | Abaddon | Paradise Lost

Bael

No one has any idea what his real tail looks like. They say he either doesn't have it, hides it like Leviathan or the prosthesis is built directly around his own. Of course, the visible part is a prosthesis that looks exactly like Beel's tail.

The most common rumor is that he lost his tail while protecting Beel. When you asked Amon about it, he didn't answer. Beelzebub said he didn't remember, but something in his expression tells you he knows much more than he’s willing to tell you.

It's just the mechanical equivalent of a real tail. Stiffer, less agile than Beel, uncomfortable to sit with. Its appearance is perfectly reproduced, even poisonous, but Bael hates it and intends to get rid of it along with the crown and glasses as soon as Beel returns.

Sensitiveness 0/10. 

At the base it has four metal plates that are used to screw and hold this tail. You also saw that for a moment there was only the upper part of the prosthesis next to the body, that the tail base is larger than Beel, and at the bottom there was a small gap with a black soft… material? 

When you touched it, Bael jumped back and almost ripped your arm away. He was as scared as you were. So, maybe the real sensitivity is 10/10?

Suddenly you're even more motivated to put Beelzebub's ass in the office.

Amon

 A snake's tail, gray and thick as three fingers. Three tails to be precise, although it's easy to get confused because he usually keeps them all braided together.

Dark gray, very similar to his horn. Black thin stripe on the back. Supposedly he can slide blades out of it like his king, but no one has seen it yet.

They are so flexible and agile that he can braid them and use the three ends like three fingers or a gripper. Interestingly, each of them can handle a pistol alone. 

However, he can't hold a pen or documents. At all. Nuh-uh. Suddenly limp. 

He only unbraids his tails when he has the opportunity to mess up. Pull Stolas by the coat, steal Nabe's glasses. Reason? Who knows, he's probably bored.

When Bael shouts at him, he wraps two of his tails around his legs, pretending that he's so sorry, and with the third one, he tease Bael’s tail because he's just his friend, not the king.

Sensitiveness 6/10. If you manage to wake up this lazy devil, you can count on miracles in bed. He will hold your arms and legs, cover eyes, put ends in your mouth, explore under your clothes, and overall will be very creative.

Naberius

 If you were expecting a dog's tail, you almost got it. His brown tail actually resembles his own three Cerberus tails, but it is longer and fluffier, as if all three had to fit into one.

An ankle-length cascade of soft fur, a little more flexible than a dog's, but just as enthusiastically flapping when he's happy. What a good boy!

He usually keeps it curled up like a Shiba. It also has similar lighter fur underneath and a black tip.

Even though it looks like a dog at first glance, its tail is prehensile enough to handle a gun. However, he prefers the bazooka. It is larger and more handy. As you can see, his tail is quite strong underneath that cute fur.

Stolas says that when Nabe gets angry, his tail fluffs up like a duster.

The reason for this anger is usually Amon.

Sensitiveness 7/10. He will let you play with it, but only when you are alone. You can pet him, hug him and kiss him as much as you want. It is fluffy and warm.

Stolas

Feathered bird tails are very rare, and Stolas has a beautiful owl tail. He's not too happy about this, totally would prefer a weapon-type tail like Beelzebub's.

This tail is not large, only half-thigh long. When he folds it, it's barely visible. He wanted the same prosthesis as Bael, but he was banned from doing so by Beel himself.

To sweeten what Stolas considers a shortcoming, Beel gave him a special piercing at the base of his tail. But it's even harder to show than the one on the chest.

He sometimes bet on tail feathers instead of money. Due to how rare these tails are, it is believed that their feathers bring good luck and clothes or jewelry with such elements have magical properties.

If Avisos has some business in Tartaros, Bael sends Stolas there because Bimet has a soft spot for him (or rather his precious tail). Or at least that's what they did until the stolas started a fight in the street. And because once he came back plucked.

Nabe says that when Stolas gets angry, his tail fluffs up like an angry chicken's.

The reason for this anger is usually Amon.

Sensitiveness 4/10. His feathers are mostly ticklish, but he likes to be scratched at the base.

[factual-fantasy]

25 askskssss

@elegysonnet

I don't know anything about Geno so he's not currently in the AU. But if I gathered enough info maybe I could add him somehow. Like I did with Rosalina! :00

As for the Error Sans thing, I'm actually not personally a fan of all the crazy Sans AUs. Error Sans, Ink Sans, Dream Sans, Nightmare Sans, Fresh Sans, Geno Sans, Horror Sansss,,, uhg, I'm personally not a fan. So none of these world destroying Sans or other similar individuals exist in my Multiverse. So my squad doesn't have to worry about them <XD

My redesign plans for Kinger was just to give him a fluffier coat basically XD And I didn't have anything in mind for Jax..

Also thank you! :DD

@deadspooderman (I blocked out the art, I don't wanna be a reposter!)

I think I've watched a few episodes before but I don't remember them..

Although I can see myself liking that Sensei character. XD What's his name.. Sensei Wu..?

Thank you, I hope the same for you! :DD

As for Jevil, the poor guy's currently still awake at like 2 AM to keep the groups fire going.. :(

GASSPPP.. THEY CELEBRATE HIS BIRTHDAY??? RUNNING TO NETFLIX RN-

@milk-powrit

Right now the main difference that I made up is that Undertale humans are significantly more powerful than Deltarune Humans.

DR Humans and Monsters are the same in terms of strength. For example, Kris and Susie's soul are of the same value and strength. Because they're both Lighteners. They're one in the same.

Meanwhile in Undertale, Humans and Monsters are very different creatures. Determined UT Humans, even determined children have the power to rewrite time. Meanwhile I headcannond that DR humans, even if they had determination.. cannot rewrite time like Frisk can.

All of this is completely made up and doesn't really align with the games, I'm aware- its just some fun XDD

@octonauts16

Becuase I haven't felt like it XD

THANK YOU!!! :DDDD I'M GLAD YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE! :DDD

@beryl-shade

I feel like canon Seam definitely does. But my Seam and Jevil don't have stuffing. The two of them are very much organic creatures with flesh and blood.

Spamton is fleshy too kind'a.. Spamton is a living creature but maybe less fleshy and more... bone..y...?? They're all strange XDD

Thank you! I don't intend on drawing anything new for my Kirby AU.. but who knows, maybe I will someday? Or heck maybe if I can remember to, I could dig around for some of the doodles I already made for it? :0

Also its not a FNAF comic that I'm working on.. but thank you anyway! <XD

He's meant to sound like a pirate, soooo yesn't? <XD Also thank you!

Ah, that's my bad. I've unblocked her. But take note! Part of the reason why I probably blocked that person was also due to a lack of posts. You're on Tumblr man, you gotta reblog stuff!

Ah don't worry, I'm likely to get back around to Octonauts sometime soon :}}

Upon Googling them I think I recognize them! I like the green one XDD

WAIT!! WHAT IF THEY'RE LACTOSE INTOLERANT???

@2006-stupid-thatsme

oooo that's a good question.. uhhhhh.... currently? I'd say maybe its the FNAF AU I've got going on :000

By father I assume you mean Natquik? If so, Barnacles was never angry or resentful towards him. My version of Barnacles thought Natquik was dead, because he disappeared many years ago and no one had any idea where he went..

Barnacles was rather grief stricken over Natquik. He wondered for years what happened to his old mentor and friend..

When it turned out he was alive, and had just been stranded in the Antarctic all these years? It was heartbreaking. Barnacles was so happy to see him alive but also so saddened by the situation he had been in for so long.. Barnacles immediately set to have the Gup-I repaired and a solid radio connection between it and the Octopod to be established.

Later on when he formed the Octo-agents. I headcannond that the very first person Barnacles went to recruit was Natquik. Telling him all the benefits of being an Octo-Agent. And he would say things like "If something ever happens to you out here, we have the funds and the means to be out here in less than an hour. If you're ever hurt o-or sick? We can be here. We can help you. You'd never be alone again.."

Natquik took the offer partially because Barnacles would clearly be more at ease if he did. But also to have a secure connection to the outside world? And if that connection is ever lost, a team of capable individuals will immediately go and search for him? It was just too good to pass up.

@djadecutie

When I get back around to the comics it will be just like it was before. A comic probably split into 2-4 parts and uploaded when ever I'm able to finish them. 🤷‍♂️

Also thank you! :DD

@crimson-thinker

What's Foxy's grief stereotype/virus method? I'm not quite sure I understand the question so forgive me if I give the wrong answer.. But I'm thinking that means "what is Foxy's mental situation in the swap AU?" If that's the case, his mental state can be described in 1 sentence. "He refuses to move on."

Partial Swap Foxy was deeply effected by the loss of Freddy and Chica. So much so that he kind'a acts like.. they're still around.?

The other animatronics have cut out anything Freddy/Chica related in their lives. But for Foxy, the act of removing/avoiding everything Freddy/Chica related just makes the grief more painful. To him it feels like he's discarding their memory. Like doing that is saying they didn't matter or shouldn't be remembered. It just makes them feel more dead..

Foxy is the only animatronic that will go back to that old show stage. Sometimes in his darkest times he will talk to the stage. As if Freddy and Chica are still standing on it and can hear him..

When talking to Gregory, he is similar to Freddy. Acting all chipper and like nothing is wrong. Though if Freddy and Chica are mentioned.. he wouldn't avoid the subject like Freddy would. He would talk about them, even if it rips him up from the inside. He would answer all of Gregory's questions about them and tell him stories. Even if it brought him to tears and their memory was almost too painful to bear. Foxy refuses to let go of the past. And despite how painful it is, he keeps dragging the past around with him like a dead weight. Freddy does the same thing but as he drags the past around he refuses to look at it. If.. If that makes sense--

Basically- Freddy and Foxy are both stuck in the past. But Freddy refuses to acknowledge that he is. And Foxy openly acknowledges it, even if it kills him inside..

(Also note: The main obstacle that Foxy would pose to little Vanessa is that Foxy is faster than Bonnie. And as a Glamrock, Foxy is pretty tough. So if he finds out that Bonnie is hiding a child in his stomach hatch? Well.. he might just have the means necessary to catch Bonnie and rip her out.. :x )

For the second question! Partial swap Freddy is more openly miserable than Classic Bonnie, yes.. But he doesn't miss the singing and the spot light. He misses his friends and making kids happy.

Seeing how sad all his friends are.. seeing how messed up Foxy is.. how defeated Bonnie is.. that's what depresses him. That's what makes him cry..

Thank you! I'm so glad you like him! :DDD

I imagined that Freddy just threw the old clothes away. They were really dirty and torn and Gregory didn't care about them.

He probably took some trash out of a bin, put the clothes in and then put the trash on top. Effectively burying the clothes so that no one would see it.

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDDD✨💜💖✨

@ocinstituterep

1: ReBLOGS, are allowed. RePOSTS, are NOT allowed. 👌

2: My Glamrock Freddy is probably pretty depressed :( and his depression has had years to develop and get slowly worse. 7-10 on the depressing scale.

But partial swap Freddy? His life just came crashing down. So he may also be depressed now, but he hasn't had any time to really develop it. Probablyyyy a 4-10?

@dragon-fly34

I'm glad you like my AU! But sorry! I don't take requests and I don't personally support that ship.. <:/

[captain-mj]

heres a million dollar question: what does selkie! soap's seal form look like

I am expecting a million dollars in my bank account by tonight

Thanks to him shaving his hair, he has a slightly thicker strip of fur on his head like the Mohawk. It makes him look very cute

He most closely resembles a harbor seal but he is not in and of himself, a harbor seal. Selkies, although they may resemble different seal species, are not a specific seal species. They are a separate species entirely

He’s slightly fluffier than other seals thanks to the coat

He is gray with brown spots and some of his whiskers are slightly singed because of an accident when he was younger. He tells everyone they’ll never heal but if he spent a few months being a seal, they would, he just refuses to do that

Unlike harbor seals, he does have actual ears, like most furred seals do. Its one of the easiest ways to spot him

Predictably, he is roughly the same size in or out of the coat, however in seal form, he is rounder. Ghost can still pick him up

His eyes are almost black when he shifts. He could make them do that almost at will and has used it on people they’re interrogating to make them think he’s a demon.

[bluegekk0]

That fluffy hyena post made me think of how Grimm got more and more fluffy over time. Of course this is just me changing his design, but I like to think there's an in-universe reason for it.

His fur grows, it needs to be trimmed every now and then. What if, similarly to how FPK stopped worrying about appearances over time, he decided to just let it grow and only trim it when it starts getting in the way? Perhaps he noticed how much FPK loves burying his face in it, so he thought he would enjoy if there was more of it?

But what if he didn't even need to modify it to be fluffier between rituals, what if Hallownest's cold climate influences its growth? Of course, he doesn't actually need more fluff to keep warm, his body is like a walking furnace. I'm not sure how him having a "winter coat gene" would even work, but it's fun to imagine.

Though I think what's more likely is that he just lets it grow much longer. His Nightmare King form shows that he can be very fluffy, and you can see it in his children as well - their fluff covers most of their bodies, and so they end up looking a lot more like his godly self compared to his physical body. But in the case of his physical form, it doesn't grow on his torso, so he overall loses that fluffiness.

Speaking of that torso, I imagine he made it like this for no other reason but appearance. Before he settled down with FPK, he particularly cared about his looks - being attractive meant that he would find casual partners, which he needed to satisfy his needs. With how prevalent shells are in many bug species he met, a shiny body was seen as especially attractive. Though it's worth noting that his torso isn't actually all hard-shell - the back is, particularly the spine sail, but it gets softer as you move towards the front, so his chest and stomach are far softer and more flexible. With proper maintenance it smooth and shiny, and that made him more desirable.

He still maintains it now, despite the previous reason seeming a tad desperate, he does genuinely like how he looks, and so it's for himself more than anything. He also quite likes the fluffier appearance, especially his fluffy neck and butt, and finds styling it in the morning very enjoyable (the sight of FPK's clearly distracted eyes reacting to the extra volume in his fluffy bottom is a nice bonus).

And yeah there's no explanation for the tail, I just pretend it's always been there. I hate looking at older art where he has no tail, it looks so awkward. Funny thing is, I did intend to give him a tail a while back, but it was more like a stubby lizard tail with spikes on it, I ended up scrapping it because it looked weird. But with his design getting fluffier, a more mammalian tail was a natural conclusion. Though it does make me want to redraw a lot of older art and include it there...

[writingseaslugs]

Ignihyde: Snowy Days

So Ortho is totally platonic in this part! Also I definitely recommend reading it since Idia and Ortho’s parts kinda go together. They can be read separately, but I wrote them to be read together.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Ignihyde: Snowy Days

There was something to be said about those in Ignihyde’s dorm; they didn’t like doing fun winter activities. They enjoyed the cold and how it was good for their electronics, but actually going out and having fun was something foreign to them. The only one who seemed to be excited at the first falling of snow was Ortho who had a childlike wonder about it and all the things he could do, but he never actually got to do the fun things he dreamed of due to having nobody to do it with. This had to change.

Idia Shroud

You knew something had to be changed once you saw how sad Ortho looked. He had been messaging you earlier about wanting to go out and build a snowman with you and his brother, but Idia was being stubborn again. You walked into the dorm just to watch Ortho knocking on Idia’s door.

“Do you want to build a snowman, brother?” Ortho asked, shuffling outside the door on his jets, “Ramshackle’s prefect is here…” Ortho managed to say and you heard something from inside the room, “Please?” Ortho said and you could tell whatever was being said was negative. Ortho looked down before turning, noticing you arrived.

“You’re here!” Ortho said happily, flying over to you, “I am sorry, but Idia won’t be joining us.” Ortho said, making you chuckle.

“Yes he is, don’t be silly, Ortho.” You said before humming, “Why don’t you put on some winter clothes. I know you don’t get cold, but it makes the atmosphere better, right?” You said and Ortho looked confused.

“Sure…but Idia said he wouldn’t be going and I couldn’t sense any lies from him.” Ortho said and you hummed.

“Sense any lies from me?” You asked, leaning down to face him. Ortho looked at you, before his eyes widened.

“If you insist, then I shall get changed.” Ortho said as he left you in the hall. You approached Idia’s door and knocked on it, announcing your presence.

“Alright Idia, imma give you to the count of three to open the door for me.” You said, knowing it was locked since Ortho didn’t just barge right in there.

“I’m not going out there; it’s too cold.” Idia groaned, from behind his door.

“Good news, the invention of a coat has been around for centuries just for these weather conditions.” You said, before clearing your throat. “One!” You said, and Idia shouted to go away, “Two!” You said louder, waiting to see if he’d be smart. It was silent and he clearly hadn’t gotten up, “Three!”

Fun thing about Idia was, despite how much technology he had, he had one simple flaw. His door was just that…a door. No specialized locks or mechanisms. No metal paneling on the inside. It was just a normal door. Which meant when your foot violently kicked it, with all the force you could muster, it just slammed right open and broke off a hinge or two. It was also an old door. You knew he could afford to get a new one, so you didn’t feel bad at all.

“What the fuck!” Idia said, looking horrified that you literally broke his door down.

“I gave you the count of three, didn’t I?” You asked, walking over to his desk and putting your hand on it. 

“You broke my door.” Oh, now he was annoyed.

“You broke your brother’s little heart. I think my crime is forgivable, in comparison.” You said, placing a hand over your chest, “Now come on, put on some warm clothes and then we’ll leave.” You said, making Idia groan.

“Fine…” he murmured, getting up and going to his closet. He managed to find an even bigger and fluffier jacket than what he normally wore. He tossed his other jacket off, but before he could put on the new one, you had walked over to him. He hummed, looking down at you before noticing you placed your hands on his chest.

“I promise I’ll give you a reward, if you stay out with us for an hour.” You told him. He felt his cheeks warming up at your proximity and his blue hair flickered the same shade of pink at the ends.

“I uh what do you…” Idia said before you cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips.

“There, a sneak preview. Now come on, Ortho is probably waiting at the entrance.” You said, patting his chest and leaving.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho was almost vibrating from excitement as you all made your way out to the fields of the school. Since most people were long gone for the holidays, it left you guys and a handful of other students. Thankfully, for Idia at least, this meant nobody would be outside to witness unless they decided they needed to take a stroll at this exact moment.

“Ah! What should we do first?” Ortho asked, as he ran over to you. He had been smart and changed into his athletic gear so his blasters wouldn’t melt all the snow around him. The snow crunched under him and he seemed to find it fascinating, stomping a bit to hear the noise more.

“How about we build a snowman together? We brought supplies to decorate it, after all.” You said, holding up the bag you brought from Ramshackle. Ortho buzzed happily while looking around; the small boy pointed at an area across the fields.

“There, that would be perfect over there!” Ortho said and Idia sighed.

“Wouldn’t it be fine anywhere?” Idia asked, as Ortho hummed, before shaking his head.

“We need to make sure it's flat so we don't have to worry about rolling the larger balls up the hill, and we need to check to make sure when the wind blows that the snow from the trees won’t fall onto it. So over there is best.” Ortho concluded. The three of you made your way over, for the most part, it was pretty easy.

Ortho had the strength to help lift the larger balls on top of the snowman, and soon you had a pretty good looking one. You finished it up with the eyes, nose, and of course a top hat. You stood there and smiled at your creation…well two of you did.

“Is that all? Can we go back inside?” Idia sighed, watching his breath fan out. You huffed as you shook your head. You loved the man at times, and he did make Ortho happy, but god damn was he hard to convince to have fun if it didn’t involve video games. You couldn’t help, but ball up some snow and toss it at his face.

Idia froze for a moment, blinking as the snow fell off his face. He then turned to you with a glare, “What was that for?” Idia said and you snickered.

“Oh, I was just thinking a snowball fight would be an amazing way to spend time out here…right Ortho?” You said, chuckling at how annoyed Idia looked.

“A snowball fight! Thank sounds like so much fun…can we, big brother?” Ortho asked, Idia couldn’t exactly say no…but not for normal reasons. Idia grabbed a ball of snow and tossed it at you, as hard as he could. It slammed into your chest and that was it.

Ortho, being the good boy he was, just laughed while chucking snowballs at everyone, meanwhile his brother and friend were currently trying to murder each other, with hurling balls of packed snow at one another.

It took an hour, before you guys decided to call it quits, the snow freezing your entire body as you made your way over to Ramshackle. Your dorm would sadly be warmer than Ignihyde with the fireplace roaring at all times this time of year.

Ortho chuckled as he opened the door for you and Idia, both shivering from the cold. Idia walked in first, but Ortho stopped you, before you could enter.

“Hey, whatcha need, bud?” You asked Ortho who tugged at your jacket.

“I wanted to thank you for helping get Idia out and playing with us…” Ortho said and you swore your heart leapt out of your chest. You chuckled and bent down, giving the robot child a kiss on the forehead.

“Anything for my little brother.”

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature the Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

[canisbeasts-ooc]

what was lykoii's facepaint like back in the clurch!

A surprising amount like his ancestor, though, they’ve never officially met

Actual designs under the cut

I’ve been procrastinating on this ask for. So long.

But here are the designs of the clown cats!

Lykoii is honestly just supposed to emanate sweet itty kitty energy at this point in his life. He’s got little stripes coming up the cheeks like a lot of baby tigers. He also has little spot/rosettes like a young lion and those big ol’ whisker antennae on some cats! (Thanks to Caine for helping me, paw’s the best)

The Carillon honestly has inspirations from a lot of warrior cat villain designs. What can I say? I’m a sucker for those evil kittens! She’s meant to be a lot more sharp and angular compared to Lykoii’s soft and round. Her corner mouth stripes are also kind of meant to give her more of that ‘resting cat face’.

We have a sweet tabby cat that has these markings that really emphasize his nose, and I thought it was cute so: onto the clown cats.

The Carillon’s got a bit of a clerical coat/collar going on that incorporates her sign, which I think is kinda fun :>. Lykoii also wears a lot of sweaters and such while he’s Tinykoii. He and Sphinx would’ve been nearly indistinguishable as kids (other than the tail, of course). He had his hair a bit longer and fluffier before Ottermom pushed for it being cut.

I was honestly just planning to have a doodle up top but, it was pretty nice to just chill and draw without worrying about the end product, this canid’s been out of practice. I Had fun doing something akin to a family portrait. I’m just gonna ramble freely at this point:

Version without all the layers on top. The colors honestly have a lot of wiggle room, and this is probably The Carillon at a point pre-sheep murder.

I think the Carillon would have really liked Tinykoii. Kid who’s uncertain but devoted to the clurch, just like she was. I’m tired, so that thought is ending there to be picked up another day…maybe.

[inkedover]

hdjahtejrjdhd I forgor to post the Hyperlaser art I made while on vacation so have this to feed yourself while I struggle with my animation

headcanons and info abt this under the cut :3

okayyy so Phighting x Pokémon crossover has invaded my brain and I started thinking abt what Pokémon each Phighter would have, how it would fit thematically, and how the world around them would change with these new pocket monsters.

first off, I like to think that Pokémon are very heavily influenced by the environment they live in and evolve in. Ex. Pokémon living in Blackrock will get some sort of cold resistant evolution like fluffier coats or thicker skin. their patterns are also influenced by their environment, but to an extent. the Pokémon will keep most base features and colors, but there are typically a lot of variables. think of Pokémon species having genetic diversity inside of their own species like real life Pokémon do. Zebstrika having different stripe patterns, Daschbun differentiating bread and baking types, ghost Pokémon in general taking on different forms, etc.

second off, Phighting Pokémon are definitely treated like they are in the Pokémon universe. some as pets, some as tools, others to dominate the leagues and others just as general help for jobs. Hyperlaser + his Inteleon are the example for this one, read down below.

tbh idk why I thought to do Hyperlaser first, maybe because I already drew Pokémon art with him in it idk

Hyperlaser's wip team:

Liepard

Inteleon

Yamask

1. Liepard is literally just Princess except as a beeg girl, and she was Hyperlaser's first Pokémon. tiny Purrloin approached him and he was like “aw yeah how adorable a kitty cat”.

her patterns and coat as a Liepard were both influenced by Blackrock and Hyperaser himself, Princess' coat becoming thick and fluffy so that she's more comfortable living in Blackrock and the typical oval/petal shaped rings on her coat turning more heart shaped due to Hyperlaser's constant love and affection, we love a good Pokémon owner here fellas!!!

2. Inteleon. Inteleon was given to Hyperlaser as a sort of ‘partner Pokémon’ to work with him and assist in his duties as a sniper. I actually looked through all of the Pokémon with the sniper ability available before choosing Inteleon because overall in both design and themes I feel like Inteleon works the best with Hyperlaser.

Inteleon definitely has more of a snow coat/windbreaker on than the usual tailcoat pattern that normal Inteleon have, but other than that nothing too out of the ordinary. well- for patterns at least. due to evolving inside of Blackrock I like to think that Hyperlaser actually got a sort of ‘Blackrockian Inteleon’ and that his Inteleon developed the ice-typing as well.

3. Yamask. okay so this little fella seems kind of out of place for people that haven't read it's Pokédex entry, but those who have probably understand where I was going with this. Yamask have the face of somebody who was passed away on their mask, and I like to imagine that this Yamask began following Hyperlaser around after the incident which took majority of his horns + face.

Hyperlaser was actively avoiding the Yamask whenever it showed up, but Subspace noticed this and- being the sadistic little prick he is- caught it and forced it onto Hyperlaser's team (context for the drawing that you may or may not have seen long ago).

as for relationship dynamics:

Hyperlaser loves Princess with all of his heart and soul. he is a very very good Pokémon keeper and Princess is his literal pride and joy.

Hyperlaser treats Inteleon like a coworker. he respects the Pokémon and it respects him back and works with him readily on missions. at home Inteleon enjoys cleaning, even though Hyperlaser has said it doesn't need to.

while Hyperlaser is uncomfortable with Yamask around, he makes sure he isn't neglecting it. sure, he doesn't usually mention that it's on his team, but he does ensure that it at least isn't uncomfortable with him.

Princess occasionally feels like Inteleon is her rival when it comes to Hyperlaser's attention, but Inteleon tends to ignore Princess when they're both together. Neither Pokémon like Yamask, but Hyperlaser makes sure that they don't bully it- errr, not on his watch, anyway. Hyperlaser can't leave Yamask alone with either Pokémon.

anywayyyyy thank you for reading to the end!!!! if you saw this have some cookies for the road!!!! 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

[rararazaquato]

chapter 2 is coming. here's makoto and kurumi.

a lot of design notes under the cut, both about these guys and the nda detectives

yuma was specifically given a little facial hair because, in the canon of the fic, he's been too busy to actually shave. however, the out-of-canon reason is that my art style is so chibi cutesit that it makes everyone look a bajillion years younger than they actually are. yuma's design is already a little young-looking despite most evidence in-canon pointing to him being an adult, so i wanted to give him that extra signifier of being a grown ass man.

the longer hair is also there for the same reasons - he hasn't gotten it cut for a while, and the bowl cut made him look childish.

because i have chronic same-face-syndrome, i put yuma and makoto in the same pose to emphasize that they are, genetically, the same person.

honestly, makoto's design versus yuma's in-game really makes it clear just how much a haircut and outfit change can make a character look older. with makoto wearing a suit and having hair that isn't in the perfect shape of a bowling ball, he looks a lot more like a young adult with a babyface. because i feel like he doesn't need the extra age signifiers (and because i feel like he'd want to differentiate himself from yuma more), i didn't give him the facial hair.

the "looking less like yuma" angle is also why he still bleaches and grows out his hair.

i like to think makoto starts taking better care of himself postgame, so i made his hair a bit fluffier and softer-looking to show he's actually been brushing and washing it. i mean, come on. canon makoto ily but you look like a greased-up yorkshire terrier.

i also gave makoto curtain bangs because girl... you have a forehead the size of the moon. i'm also a member of large forehead gang so i understand you pain but still.

makoto's outfit is actually loosely based on an outfit i own irl! i have a hawaiian shirt with similar colors (albeit a different pattern) and blue swim trunks with red lobsters on them.

makoto probably sunburns really easily, both as a result of being pale as fuck (yuma also has this issue) and being a homunculus (he won't die in the sun, but it does result in a mild allergy). so just imagine he's always lathered in sunscreen.\

mentally, makoto is the same age as yuma (so 20 when this fic takes place) and kurumi is 19 (i headcanon she's only a year younger than yuma). chronologically, they are both about four years old. #justhomunculusthings

i changed kurumi's hairstyle because her canon one is stupid. like why does she have two skinny ass braids hidden in her coat. give her those long luscious locks.

she's wearing disposable gloves to protect her hands, and almost all of her clothing is specifically designed to reflect uv rays.

you'll notice the inside of kurumi's mouth is actually a different color than any of the master detectives. that's the homunculus baby!!!

i gave her an ahoge because i hope she gets the protag treatment for the next game. also i hope she and shinigami become girlbesties and also that shinigami gets the fuck over herself. um ok now time for design notes abt the other people. artwork here if u didn't see the og one.

desuhiko actually does turn 20 in the timeframe of the fic. his birthday party is a future chapter.

he gets knockoff heelys in the upcoming chapter bcuz i think he'd enjoy them. but he got them flippy floppys in the meantime.

fubuki got a new hairstyle because i think she would be a bit more loose and silly as she starts going on more adventures.

her and vivia actually have two birthdays between the time i headcanon raincode to take place (march 2XXX) and the fic (july 2XXX+1). so while yuma is 19 in mdarc and 20 in usf, fubuki is 21 in mdarc and 23 in usf (and vivia is 25-27)

yes, that is ibuki mioda on her shirt.

i'm actually scared of needles so halara's earrings get a redesign. they get new ones in the upcoming chapter as well.

their outfit might be mostly long sleeves, but the jacket is lightweight and breezy and the jeans have wide legs, so it's actually nice and cool.

just realized this outfit is primarily yellow with some red and blue acccents. i can't believe i reinvented sollux homestuck. i'm sorry halara baby i didn't mean to compare you to an ugly bitch like that (this is a joke i actually like sollux)

vivia's outfit is inspired by the stupid shit i would make in the sims before i discovered custom content. i feel like he'd be a sims girly.

your guess for why yuma got facial hair due to never shaving while vivia, who is infamously too executive-dysfunction-riddled to leave the fireplace much less shave, has the skin of a newborn baby is up to you to interpret. possible options include (un)fortunate genetics on either/both of them, he is trans and hasn't started/doesn't intend to start t, or he just pays halara to do it for him.

actually i do think he pays halara to help him out with things when the chronic fatigue/executive dysfunction gets too much to deal with. fubuki will do it for free but also she is kind of bad at being helpful as a result of being fubuki.

aaand time for the general headcanons section

every single one of these characters is some flavor of neurodivergent. halara and kurumi are autistic, desuhiko has adhd, and yuma, makoto, fubuki, and vivia have both. i'm sure some of them also have other neurodivergencies but those are the two i'm most familiar with so those are the two that worm their way into my headcanons.

not a single one of these characters doesn't have ptsd. like i'm sorry but you cannot live through chapters 4 and 5 of rain code and not be mentally ill afterwards. most of em also have a few other mental illnesses because i love projecting on fictional characters <3

vivia's also got some sort of chronic physical illness (my personal headcanon is pots), and makoto sometimes uses a cane. yuma should sometimes use a cane but he has the bodily awareness of a fucking peanut and thinks it hurts everyone to walk.

yuma's gonna realize he's any pronouns nonbinary someday, but that won't be for a hot minute. makoto is the same, but he's a lot closer to that realization than yuma is. both are also bi, as is kurumi.

desuhiko is the resident kodakaverse problematic bicon. there's always one of em!

fubuki is a lesbian. "oh but she confesses to yuma in her final gumshoe gab!" well as i said before yuma isn't a man. it's a bit confusing to her because she doesn't know that yet but turns out she's just got that Sense where she can tell that yuma isn't exactly cis.

halara is nonbinary (obviously, that's basically canon) and pan

vivia is somewhere on the aroace spectrum (both out of general lack of interest and because sex and romance are physically/mentally straining) but he's generally gay-aligned.

[gar-a-ash]

Still first in line for that sable male yesssss! But it's looking like he might end up being a long coat which could go two ways:

He ends up looking like his half-sibling and is just a little fluffier than normal and I'll just have to deal with matting in friction areas or

He ends up being like one of those hypertype longhaired dogs that I actually cannot take due to this dog being a potential service dog prospect plus living out in the country with a dog coated like that would be a nightmare.

HOWEVER I have seen his half-sibling, and she's perfectly acceptable levels of fluffiness, so we'll have to see closer to the pickup time! But I got updated pics today and he miiiiight be slightly softer in the face than his siblings? Still very early to tell. Eyes are open though!

[noxiatoxia]

talk to me about hanimor

hanimor.

okay, fr tho, hanimori is SO funny. absolutely hilarious. they've been doing the incest shtick longer and louder than the hitachiins for god's sake. like with hikakao you can be like, WELL it's just an act...maybe they arent actually Like That...(they are, but that's besides the point). but hanimori? these dudes are in a committed 24/7 ddlg roleplay/hj like it's so obvious....

I think it's also a ship with a lot of possibilities?? just bcuz hani and mori are very different people. like, they officially "got" together probably because of hani, because i'd think mori would see it as a violation of his "duty" of protecting hani to be in a relationship with him. i think in general mori would have a slight bit of relationship guilt, which hani can help him work thru...

if youre a fan of darker concepts though, mori's dedication to hani means it would probably be easy for hani to manipulate him, intentionally or not. basically forcing him into a relationship. while mori is known for putting his foot down when it comes to hani's health and safety, would he do it for his own? even at the expense of hani's happiness?

but for a more fluffier concept, i do think they are just a stable, happy couple. if anybody has relationship issues, they go to hani and mori for advice. im sure kaoru came to them once or twice in regards to him and hikaru. and it's hilarious bc nobody says anything?? all outsiders think they're just...a man with his younger brother, younger cousin, maybe even his son??? nobody would guess hani is older, or that they're dating.

however i think MORI is sometimes the one who goes to others for help, because while his relationship with hani is steady, he often feels he cannot show his love well enough...hani constantly expresses his love for mori verbally, physically, with gifts, but the most mori does is just. hang around him 24/7 to show he likes him, too. and he feels kind of bad about that. so he goes and asks the other hosts what he should do to show hani he loves him better.

mori is bad with his words, kind of an anxious wreck, so talking is out the window. the idea of saying "i love you" to hani's face makes him feel like he's gonna pass out with stress so he goes for other methods. he gives hani gifts, mostly food items. he does little things for hani that he didn't ask for, like grabbing his coat for him or reaching something on a high shelf (lol).

hani is extremely perceptive, so he catches on quite quickly why mori is suddenly doing these things for him. and he says, while he appreciates it a lot, mori doesn't NEED to do these things to show that he loves him, hani already knows mori loves him, and he loves him too <3

also, hani loves going on "dates" with mori. he thinks they're very fun. it's mostly mundane (well, mundane for a rich person), going out and doing activities. his favorite tho is cake nights where he eats a bunch of cake with mori and usa-chan. he also likes watching movies with mori bc it gives him an excuse to cuddle with him.

i just think it's funny how OPEN they are about their relationship and nobody says anything...then again, it's like, what even CAN they say to some of the most powerful martial artists in the world.