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#birdman monster
dinoserious · 5 months
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been idly muckin w the manfish recently. his name is tiberius (tiber or ty, mostly) and he has a companion character, bazal, an eagle man whos design is still in the works (not a griffin btw! i just like the earsies, no other feline traits present)
the two of them are formerly human mercenary types, and pissed off a god while working a job together. they continued working together because who else do you work with after something like that
(they wear clothes ive just not decided what i want those clothes to be, stylistically)
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abz-j-harding · 2 years
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chernobog13 · 6 months
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Alex Toth's designs for various villains, bad guys, and assorted no-goodniks for Birdman.
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physalisfaithful · 11 months
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Had this idea for a new character in my head for daysss now, and I finally got him sketched! He’s the worlds most pathetic, needy, and kissable birdman
He will cry unprompted
And then the next minute, he’s somehow wormed his way into your pants?
Safe to say, he’s a keeper :D I haven’t come up with a good name for him- anyone have any ideas? Miiiight also have another monster man in the works… who looks considerably less human, but equally kissable (that’s the best combo 100%) Keep an eye out and you might see him floating around soon too!
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qelodraws · 2 years
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Cygnus ❤️
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quirinah · 5 months
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SLAY THE PRINCESS (chewing on drywall)
#oh my god the way this game has been festering in my brain since i watched rts playthrough of it ITS SO OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#I LOVE COSMIC HORROR AND SELF AWARE TIMELOOPS AND THE ENDLESS FUTALITY OF THE NARRATIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#I LOVE BIRD MEN AND GIANT MONSTER WOMEN AND NARRATORS WITH PERSONALITY!!!#sorry im normal.#quirinahscreams#no but i also love the voices of the main character and how the choices you make determine which one of them shows up (saying nonsense) BUT#ALSO HOW THEY EACH HAVE THEIR OWN SKILLS? IF THAT MAKES SENSE#like the stubborn and the hunted's affinity for combat/survival in the beast route or paranoids autonomic nervous system thing#she heart on my lungs till i liver nerves#I WISH IC OULD SAY MORE BUT SPOILERS BUT ALSO RAGHHH. they werent lying it really is a love story (gripping table so tightly it splinters)#THE WAY THE FIRST CABIN RUNTHRU IS LIKE UR DEFAULT SLATE AND THEN THE CHOICES YOU MAKE SLASH HOW YOU PERCEIVE THE PRINCESS IN THAT ROUTE#AFFECT WHAT SHE APPEARS AS TO YOU LATER#EVEN DOWN TO TAKING THE KNIFE#how shes docile and initially innocent if you dont take it but calculating and dangerous if you do#or depending on how you die she reappears as vengeful or simply cruel or resigned etc and then different voices show up to compliment that#i always feel so lame giving faceless characters visual appearances though its part of the mystique intrigue or whatever#but my boring hc for the mc is that hes like a harpy. a la howl movingcastle type beat but i also love birdman mc#its just that i wasnt paying attention earlier and imagined him as like a generic fairytale prince/knight and then realized oh he has TALON#I NEED TO SHUT UP OH MY GOD BUT ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I WANT TO DRAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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mtuky92 · 2 years
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Day 16 : Fowl ( 🎶Kass 🐦)
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cosmicswamptooth · 1 year
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Say what? 🐦 . . . #artbreeder #newmediaart #nft #artificialintelligence #artist #birdman #generativeart #monster #aiartists #deepdream #neuralnetworkart #synthography #artoftheday #aiart #art #neuralart #aiartist #stylegan #forest #machinelearning #styletransfer #digitalart #ai #creature #digitalartist #aiartcommunity #modernart #nftart #neuralnetworks #contemporaryart (at Amazon Rainforest Brazil) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoIt4BxIg_8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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hazel-d-stone · 1 year
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Cannot sleep. Accidentally created something that took my dreams away oh no
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abz-j-harding · 2 years
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0grinnie0 · 1 year
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some characters i made myself!
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In A Rut (Monster!Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
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Pairing: Keigo “Hawks” Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)
Synopsis: You haven't seen your boss around the office in a while ever since he started feeling "under the weather", but when you decide to visit him one day to cheer him up with some soup, you realize that this isn't a normal spring cold. Your boss is in heat and you, his good little assistant, are the only one who can help him cure it.
Warnings: Monsterfucking; Monsterfucker!Reader; Mild Power Play; Boss x Assistant; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Marking; Heat Symptoms; Hawks Has a Big ol’ Dick; Deepthroat; Cunnilingus; Sloppy, Rough Sex; Scent Play; Overstimulation; Ownership; Multiple Orgasms; Multiple Creampies; Multiple Positions; Cum Play; Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y'all!! 💐💐🌼🌼🌻🌻 Fucking FINALLY winter & the cold is gone! Now that the weather is heating up, I wanted to write something about my favorite birdman suffering from heat. Enjoy! -Jazz
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You’re worried about Mr. Takami. 
Or “Hawks” as he’s told several of his employees, staff, and interns to call him around his agency time and time again. But as his personal assistant for over a year, you take respect and professionalism very seriously. 
Hawks is one of the most laidback bosses you’ve had in your professional career. He doesn’t make you fetch coffee unless you’re getting some for yourself, he’s flexible with deadlines, he lets you go home early despite the workload, and has all of his employees take off on Fridays…which he also pays for. 
Though it’s a nice change, you also can’t help but be wary of Hawks. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy. He is considerably nice––always greeting you in the mornings; checking up on you in the afternoons; letting you use his office when he isn’t in it, etc.
But he is also extremely cocky. It comes with the territory of being pro hero #2, you suppose, but the way he saunters into the office every Monday through Thursday in his designer clothes and Rolex watch always rubs you the wrong way. 
Not to mention he’s a humongous flirt. Your friend calls it being “overly friendly”. She also says he doesn’t flirt with any other woman at his agency like he does you. He always gives you those charming smiles that seem to irk you to no end and puts that flirty lilt in his voice when he speaks to you. Not to mention the constant compliments on your outfits and work that stick with you until the end of your shifts. 
Last week on Monday, the last day you saw him, was no different. You were sitting with your friend at your desk that morning, sipping on your iced coffee before the 9 AM meeting. Your friend was giving you the latest gossip on two employees hooking up in the stairwell during lunch last week when you both saw Hawks sauntering into the office. 
“Shh, shh!” she hushes you even though you didn’t say anything. She straightened up and smiled at your boss, bowing. “Good morning, Mr. Takami,” she chirps. The blonde, in his navy blue suit and red bottoms, gave you each a smile that lingered on you for too long. “Ladies,” he greets. 
You looked away, busying yourself by checking your email. “I’ve got your schedule and plans for today’s meeting for you,” your friend said, passing him a folder. “And your coffee, made by yours truly.” She nudged you, making you narrow your eyes at her. 
“Ah, thank you!” Hawks happily sighed. “And I told you before: just call me Hawks. I don’t need all of that ‘Mr’ shit.” His golden eyes then trailed down to you, his stare making you feel uncomfortable in your long-sleeve blouse. “Thank you, Ms. L/N,” he purrs. “See you at the meeting?” 
He gave you a wink, a hint at his joking manner, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was always picking on you like this. “I’m required to be there as your assistant so, yes,” you replied, blandly so.
He didn’t think anything of it. “Good,” he hummed happily. “I’ll need my right hand when I get tired of talking or my coffee doesn’t kick in fast enough. Carry on.” 
He gave you a flitting wink before walking off to his office for some time alone. Once gone, your friend fanned herself. “Oh, my God, he’s so fucking fine!” she groaned. You shushed her, hitting her arm. “Come on, his office is right there!” you hissed. “He might hear you!” 
“But isn’t he so fine?” your friend went on, ignoring your warning. “You have to admit that he’s fine!” You chose your words carefully, stirring your straw around in your coffee. “He’s…okay,” you weakly replied. “But he’s our boss! Whatever I think of him doesn’t matter.” At least you told yourself that. 
The meeting was about new anti-discrimination policies in workplaces and merging with UA High and Indeed to create a special job website for aspiring pro heroes and those with quirks. 
You sat across from Hawks and Rumi, his friend and co-owner of the agency, who sipped on her coffee free of cream and sugar. “Took you long enough,” she grumbled to Hawks. “What, you forget to fluff your feathers this mornin’ or somethin’?” 
You giggled to yourself at her joke before the meeting started. You met with Principal Nezu who happily bowed in front of the laptop personally set up to meet his eye level. “Good morning, everyone!” he exclaimed. “I appreciate all of you for your time today, including the Indeed associates, and for Hawks for allowing me to take you away from work for a moment. Now, Hawks, if you would like to share your opinion first?” 
The pro sat back in his chair, legs crossed and glasses perched on his eyes. You secretly liked it when he wore glasses. “I think it’s a perfect idea,” he said with a shrug. “As I’m sure all of you know, my agency is open to all new talent, whether they graduated from UA or not. We don’t discriminate against anyone with a particular quirk or education. As long as they are willing to learn, respect our rules, and participate in training, we will hire them.” 
“But what if the public has concerns about who we hire and whether they will be able to effectively do their jobs with no UA education or license?” one of the Indeed associates asked. Hawks smiled. “I’m glad you asked that.” He nodded at you, smiling warmly. “Y/N, would you mind answering this question? After all, it’s your wonderful brain that came out with such a well-thought-out plan for this.” 
Though you flushed at the compliment, you pushed those butterflies away and stood. “This agency is not new to the scrutiny of the public,” you explain, poised and calm. “Hawks and Nezu-san are proposing the opening of a new pro hero license program for those who cannot afford UA or are over the age of 18. This program would include…” You continued just as you rehearsed, not looking at Hawks who looked dead at you, almost as if he was staring through your clothes. 
When you finally finished, you sat and Nezu thanked you for your well-spoken words. “What is your opinion on that, Hawks?” he asked. The pro didn’t answer, too busy staring at you. Now his eyes were hooded and looked slightly sharper than they were before. You squirmed uncomfortably in your seat, mostly because of how warm his stare made you. 
“Hawks!” Rumi hisses in his ear. The blonde blinked, snapping out of it. “Huh?” he dumbly asked, looking up at the screen. “Are you alright?” Nezu worriedly asked. Everyone was staring at him, including you. He had never acted like this before. “Yeah, just…” He paused, clearing his throat as a flush appeared on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 
Nezu repeated himself, asking for Hawks’ opinion on the internship program and when he’d prefer to announce it. “It is the spring already, but I believe the summer is when most of my student body will be looking to do internships,” he explained. 
You watched as Hawks’ eyes grew wide at the mention of spring, but he did his best to keep it lowkey. But you noticed. “U-Uh, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do it in April.” You also noticed his body language for the rest of the meeting: his knee bouncing anxiously; his eyes flicking from yours to back at the screen or down at his papers; his cheeks flushed red. 
Was he sick? Was it the coffee you made? After the meeting, Rumi confronted him on it, grabbing his elbow. “Hey, what the hell happened in there?” she asked. “You looked like you were about to deck Y/N!” 
“I…sorry,” he huffed. “I just…” He paused, seeing you and his eyes roamed over your lower body in your pencil skirt. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he quickly replied before rushing off to his office. You followed him. You don’t know why you did. Maybe you felt obligated to do so as if his assistant. Maybe you just needed to make sure he was okay. 
So you knocked on his door, tentatively so. “Come in,” he raggedly said. You opened the door and automatically closed it behind you. Hawks leaned against his desk, his back to you, breathing concerningly hard like he just got off the treadmill. 
“Mr. Takami?” you questioned. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you walked farther into his spacious, high-rise office. “Hawks, is everything alright?” Hawks didn’t look at you as he spoke: “Y-Yeah,” he replied, still sounding winded. “What’s up?” 
You stood two feet away from him, afraid to get near. You didn’t want to spook him or cross any boundaries. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be writing a ‘thank you’ email on your behalf to Nezu-san and the Indeed associates,” you lied though you were planning on doing that anyway.
But Hawks shook his head. “Don’t bother. You did a good job today, Y/N.” His voice sounded so off. It was usually light and syrupy, but now it sounded deep and raspy. It did things to you. 
“Did I do something wrong?” you blurted, confused at his strange behavior. The blonde quickly shook his head, turning slightly towards you. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms and the feather tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. “No, no, of course not!” he protested. “I’m just…not feeling well.” 
“Well, you know you can always go home,” you said. “We can hold down the fort here like we always do.” Finally, Hawks turned around and you saw how flushed he looked, his cheeks a rouge hue. He gave a smile that felt too intimate. Too adoring. “Thank you,” he sighed. “That’s so like you. Always so professional. Always so sweet.” 
He took a step toward you and instinctively, you took a step back. “M-Mr. Takami?” you weakly asked. He continued to walk to you until you finally stood with your back to the wall, unable to escape him. His cologne clouded your senses, the scent of sweet and spicy invading your nostrils as he stopped in front of you. 
“Y/N,” he began, his voice breathlessly and soft. “I…” He stopped, raising his hand to touch you. And then he stopped, dropping his hand and using it to cover his mouth instead. “I-I’m sorry,” he muffingly said. “You should go. I don’t wanna get you sick.” 
Quickly, he reached beside you with his free hand and opened the door. The sound of chatter, coffee machines, and ringing phones smacked you back to reality. “You should go,” he said, his eyes willing you to do so. So you did and he shut the door in your face, leaving you feeling breathlessly and hot. 
That was over a week ago. After the work day, Hawks headed home and sent out a staff meeting the next morning about being out because of a “spring cold”, but he’d be back soon. “Soon” hasn’t come yet. You haven’t heard anything from him in days! 
It’s starting to worry you. A spring cold can’t last this long. Is it the flu? Is it something else? Plus, no one can seem to get in contact with him. What if something bad happened to him? 
These worrying thoughts swim in your head all week every time you see Hawks’ empty office. 
Finally, you reach your breaking point. You’re not going to call, text, or email him. You’re going to be a good assistant and instead, bring him something to let him know that you’re checking on him. Something to make him feel better. So on Friday, you leave work after your shift and stop by your favorite cafe to buy a bowl of their best chicken noodle soup.
You then drive to Hawks’ penthouse on the Upper East side of the city having kept his address to deliver things from work to his house if need be. When you park your car, you walk to the front door and click a button to buzz to his room. At first, nothing happens, so you press it again. Finally, on the third buzz, someone answers. 
“Yeah?” a deep, raspy, growly voice barks. It startles you. “Uh…I’m sorry, do I have the wrong room?” you ask. “I’m looking for Keigo Takami.” The other end of the line pauses and you think that they left. “Y/N?” they ask, sounding shocked. “Why are you here?” 
You blink at the speaker, shocked that this is your boss talking to you. Why does he sound like that? Is he that hoarse? “I came to give you some soup,” you say, suddenly shy. “I haven’t heard from you in days, so I bought this just to let up your spirits. That must be some cold.” 
You wait for a response, but when he never gives it to you, you begin to feel stupid. This was a mistake. “Well, I’m gonna go now, but I’ll give it to your doorman so he can–” 
“Don’t,” Hawks interrupts though he still sounds strained. “Come up.” You scowl in confusion, wondering if you misheard that, but then his doorman is meeting you at the front door to guide you to the elevator up to Hawks’ penthouse with the soup. 
You take the elevator up, your heart pounding and your hands shaking slightly as they hold the soup. You almost explode from your nerves when you finally make it upstairs and the doors open, revealing Hawks’ beautiful, luxurious, and empty penthouse with an included gameroom, private gym, balcony, pool, mini bar, and expensive-looking kitchen. But he is nowhere to be found. 
You walk further into the living room, your heels clicking across the hardwood floor. “Hawks?” you call. You don’t get any answer right away. The home is uncomfortably silent, making you feel paranoid. “Hawks!” you call again, louder this time. “Where are you?” 
“Upstairs!” he rasps from the staircase leading to the upper floor. “Don’t come up here!” He sounds so pained. In such agony. You place the soup on the counter, confused and worried. What’s going on? Why does he sound like he’s in trouble? 
Not listening at all to your boss’ warning, you slowly head up the steps, taking each tentative step further up in your heels. The hallway is dark when you finally make it upstairs, the only door open being the one at the end of the hallway. It is cracked and through it, you hear the sound of your boss’ soft pants and grunts of pain. Hawks’ bedroom. 
Though something inside of you is telling you to turn around, you persevere and walk towards the bedroom. Slowly, you push the door open, revealing a dark masterbedroom with drawn curtains blocking out the outside world. “Hawks?” you tentatively question. “It’s just me. I just came to–” 
“Go away!” he bellows from inside. “I told you not to come up here!” You jump, startled by the volume of his voice. He’s never yelled at you in such a way. You poke your head inside and gasp at the absolute mess of his bedroom: furniture askew; clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor; a rumbled mess of red sheets on the bed.
The smell in the air is thick with sweat and something else. Something tropical. Coconut oil? You look towards the king-sized bed where a heap sits hunched under the sheets which move up and down as it pants heavily. You thought it was just a pile of clothes at first, but no. There’s something under there. 
“Hawks?” you question, your voice wavering in fear. The strange heap stirs, reacting to your voice. It breathes raggedly, almost as if it can’t get enough air in its lungs. “Hawks, what’s going on?” you demand. “Tell me. I want to help you.” 
But he turns away, the sheets shifting as he does. “You can’t,” he whines. “You can’t.” Not being able to take how he sounds anymore, you storm over to the bed and snatch the sheets off of him. There, under the covers, you see your boss with your own two eyes. “H-Hawks?” you whisper. “Is that you?” 
You almost can’t believe it. He has gotten much bigger in the past couple of days since you’ve last seen him, his muscles almost bulging. His pecs are ridiculously big, his nipples hard and perky, and veins protrude from his forearms and hands. Speaking of hands, they barely resemble human hands anymore. Red feathers sprout from his skin and long, sharp talons have grown out of his fingernails like knives. 
When he looks at you, his face is flushed and his eyes are nothing more than red slits, those warm, golden irises gone. But all of those things aren’t even the most shocking to you. You are more shocked by the size of his wings. They have doubled in size, nearly taking up the entirety of the bed, and are red as the purest blood. His feathers shake and ruffle as if someone has run their fingers through them, disturbing their peace. 
He looks shocked to see you and then embarrassed. “I didn’t want you comin’ up here,” he pants. “Didn’t want you seein’ me like…this.” He shifts and sits up so the sheet falls off of him, revealing his naked body to you. He is flushed and coated in sweat all over his tan skin and toned muscles. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his cock which is way too obvious to look away from. 
He is big and throbbing, the head a blush red and dripping in precum. One mouth-watering, angry vein trails from his shaft up to the head of his cock that twitches. Hawks winces, not looking like he is enjoying this at all. In fact, he looks like he’s in complete agony. You can’t be embarrassed or mortified by this when he looks so awful. “W-What happened to you?” you softly gasp. 
He covers his throbbing dick with the sheet, but it’s no use. You can still see it protruding from underneath it, creating an obvious tent. “I’m in heat,” he sighs. “It’s what us mammals go through around this time. A spring thing.”
He wipes the sweat off of his forehead, his blonde hair soaked in it. “That’s why I’ve been hiding,” he explains. “I’ve been here tryna get through this, but I just…can’t!” 
He grabs at his hair, running his hands through it. Now you understand it: his absence; the transformation; the smell of coconut oil in the air. You feel yourself blush, feeling hot in your clothes. All of this because he’s horny?
“How long does it last?” you curiously ask, but you’re not even sure you want to know. Hawks sighs, looking doomed. “Either a day or months depending on if my heat is satisfied.” 
“Months?” you gasp. “Are you in pain?” 
Hawks’ face screws up, triggering something in your core. “Terrible, baby,” he groans, wrapping a hand around his cock, his talons long enough to curl around the entire thing...and he’s at least 12 inches. “I can’t even sleep. I’ve been up for days, sweatin’ through my sheets and tryin’ to cum as many times as I can.” He releases himself and looks down at his hands, clenching them. “But my hands don’t do it for me anymore and I broke my fuckin’ toy.” 
He nods at the fleshlight you didn’t even notice lying near his nightstand, completely broken in half. He completely tore that pussy out the frame, you realize in shock. What the fuck could he do to a real one? “O-Oh,” you exhale. 
“Yeah,” he sighs, running his hand down his sweaty face. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N, really. I didn’t want anyone seein’ me like this.” He looks away from you, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pains you. You find yourself not liking him like this: so utterly downtrodden and hopeless. “What can I do?” you blurt. 
He faces you, his slitted eyes widening. “What?” he gasps. “What do you–” 
“I wanna help you, Hawks,” you cut in, already taking off your cardigan to reveal your pretty, pink blouse underneath that you paired with a skirt. “What can I do to help you get through this?” 
He watches you, looking completely stunned and mortified, but his cock also twitches at the sight of your outfit. “No, no, baby, no,” he protests. “Y-You can’t…you don’t need to do this.” But you stand firm on your decision, refusing to leave him like this. “I know I don’t need to,” you firmly respond. “I want to. Just look at you! I can’t let you go on like this.” 
Hawks still doesn’t move, but his cock begins to leak pre for you, dripping down his thick thighs and onto the mattress. The sight is so lewd but so arousing, making your pussy throb indeciently in your panties. You shouldn’t be doing this. There are so many consequences you could face from this…but you also find that you don’t care right now. “Let me help you, Hawks,” you whisper. “Just tell me what I need to do to help you. I’m your assistant, after all.” 
A fire explodes behind Hawks’ eyes, lit with lust and need. A low growl leaves his chest and you find that he has fangs in his mouth. The sight scares and thrills you. “You wanna help me?” he asks in his low, deep voice. “Then take off your clothes.” 
You swallow hard, feeling like you just dry-swallowed a gigantic pill. You start with your blouse, your painted fingernails teasing the buttons before you begin to pop them open one by one. You expose your lacy bra to him, one of your favorites because of how it makes your breasts look: pretty, juicy, and appetizing with the lace trim of the cups adorning them. 
You peel off the blouse and let it fall to your feet. Hawks barely notices it, too busy staring dead at your chest. He slowly begins to pump his cock with his hand, lewd, wet sounds of his pre and coconut oil acting as lubricants drifting to your ears. Under his laser-eyed gaze, you feel like an animal being watched behind a cage. A specimen. It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, but also hot and bothered to see that you’re affecting him so deeply. 
You then move to your skirt and begin to unzip it, but Hawks puts a hand out to stop you. “Slowly, mama,” he raggedly says. “Don’t rush this.” Biting your lip, you slowly drag the zipper down and then slide the skirt off of your waist, leaving you in just your matching bra and panties. You go to take off your stockings and heels, but he stops you. “Leave ‘em on,” he demands. 
So you stand there, arms at your sides and trembling like a leaf. “Turn around,” he orders, his pink lips parted as he continues to fuck his hand nice and slow. You listen and turn, exposing your ass to him. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, soft pants leaving his lips. “I knew you had a nice ass.” 
You bite your lip, feeling your pussy flutter and throb impatiently. “Sit on the bed and bend over for me,” he orders. “I’m not gonna touch you. I just wanna see you rub that pussy for me, okay?” 
You turn around, staring down at your shoes. “Yes, sir,” you whisper and flush at your words. They just came out of you, as naturally as breathing. 
Hawks shudders, affected by your reply. “Such a good girl,” he sighs dreamily. “I’ll definitely take that over just ‘Hawks’ right now. But ‘Keigo’ works too.” Your face grows hot with a blush, having never referred to him by his first name before. Not wanting to waste his time, you slowly get on the bed and face away from him, your feet tucked under your butt. 
Then you bend over for him, your back arched. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, softly panting and the move bouncing slightly from his ministrations on himself. “Pull those panties to the side, baby. Let me see you.” Biting your lip so hard that you’re sure to draw blood, you pull the thin strip of cotton covering your sodden, wet, puffy pussy to the side and expose all of you to him. 
Hawks shudderingly moans at the sight of the wet strand of your arousal connected from your pussy lips to your panties. “God, mama,” he groans. “You have the prettiest pussy. Look how wet you are!” He growls once more, sounding so much like an animal. “You like what you’re doin’ to me?” You can tell he’s started to stroke himself harder, faster, his pants and heavy breaths becoming more intense. “Keigo,” you softly whimper. 
You’ve never been this horny before. Your pussy is about to slide off the bone with how wet it is. 
“That’s right, say my name,” he groans. “Play with your pussy, baby. Don’t let me do this alone.” 
So you do. You sneak your hand down your ass, teasing him before you begin to rub your cunt for him in time with his strokes. A weak moan leaves your lips as you rub your clit in tiny, firm circles, your ministrations impassioned by the sounds leaving Hawks’ lips. He sounds so desperate. So slutty as he pumps his cock, imagining that he’s doing so to your pretty, little pussy. “So fuckin’ cute,” he says, agonized at your beauty and sexiness. “How the fuck are you this adorable?” 
You want to look back and see him, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be watched, so you instead close your eyes and drift away at the sounds of his moans and his lubed cock fucking his hand, making the bed bounce slightly underneath you. You imagine that he’s fucking you like that, his big hands gripping your ass and talons digging into the fleshy part of your ass cheeks. You can almost feel his cock stretching you out, pumping you full again and again as he uses you, doing his best to not break you like he did his fleshlight. 
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “K-Keigo!” you whine. “Fuck, I’m about to cum!” Hawks groans at your warning, happy to hear this. “Uh-huh,” he pants. “Do it for me, baby. Cum all over those fingers for me.” 
And you do. You rub and flick your clit until it can’t take any more stimulation and explodes all over your hand. Your sweet moans of release push Hawks over the edge. “Fuck!” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of the walls as he cums in his hand, shooting warm cum all over his thighs and stomach. Your moans and whines mix with one another, creating a symphony of pleasure as you both cum together. 
When the high of your orgasms finally fades, you both sit there for a moment, panting and sitting in the reality of your situation. “I…I’m sorry,” Hawks awkwardly huffs.
You don’t answer, unsure of what to say until you turn around and find that he’s still hard. “Keigo!” you gasp. “Y-You’re still–” 
“I know,” he sighs, frustration evident in his handsome face. “Like I said, my hands ain’t doin’ it for me at this point. I need more.”
His slitted eyes, red as crimson blood, narrow at you, a deeper meaning in his words. You gulp, weighing your options but only briefly. You realize you’re thinking more with your pussy than with your head, but the curiosity of feeling Hawks’ wings wrapped around you while he fucks you is too tempting. 
“Keigo, it’s okay,” you softly purr, putting a hand on his thigh. He flinches as if your touch burns him. “We can do more if you need it.” You then dip your fingers between your thighs and come back with them dripping in your cum. His cock twitches at the sight, but he doesn’t have to imagine how you taste for too long. 
You lean forward and put your fingers to his lips. “Use me,” you say, a plea in your voice. “I’m all yours.”
Right then, something in Hawks snaps the moment he wraps his lips around your fingers and greedily sucks your cum off of them. He is no longer entirely human, his animal instincts taking over. He snatches you up and places you in his lap, emitting a small gasp from you at being yanked up so forcefully. “Just tell me ‘no’ if you want me to stop,” he orders. “And tap my thigh three times if I got my cock in that mouth. Understand me?” 
Unable to reply, you wordlessly nod. That’s enough for him. Immediately, he’s on you, pressing a rough yet passionate kiss to your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip and swirling his tongue with yours. His kiss is brutal yet hot; forceful yet careful as he wraps you up in his arms and soft wings. It’s the best kiss you’ve had in your life. 
And the sex he gives you by far trumps all of the other bedroom adventures you’ve had. You’re so glad he gave you a non-verbal safety precaution because Hawks takes the “use” thing literally when he finally gets his dick down your throat. He is as big and thick as he looks, your fingers barely being able to wrap around his girty, throbbing shaft. 
You have to cover his cock in copious amounts of spit and coconut oil just to make it easier to stroke him, Hawks’ crimson, lustful eyes and soft moans encouraging you. “That’s it, baby bird,” he growls, one clawed hand in your hair. “Take me nice and easy.” Though he allows you to slowly take his cock down your throat, it doesn’t do much to ease the stretch of your jaw. 
Unfortunately for you, Hawks’ heat gets the best of him and his impatience rises, making your time to adjust to his size shorter. When he grabs your hair and begins to fuck your face, you have no choice but to take it. He shoves his cock so deep down your throat that your eyes burn with tears and embarrassing, wet gagging sounds leave your mouth as you gurgle around his cock that throbs and pulses in your mouth. 
“Thaaat’s my girl,” Hawks grunts, staring down at you throating his dick. “You’re takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird, y’know. You could make this a profession if workin’ as an assistant don’t work out.” He takes his cock out and taps it against your tongue, loving how slutty you look for him with your tongue hanging out and makeup a mess. 
“Or you could add this to your duties of bein’ my little assistant,” he hums, smearing his cockhead across your plump lips. “You could fetch my coffee and take this dick over my desk every workday. How would that sound?” He doesn’t allow you to answer as he grabs you again and forces you down onto his cock, groaning at how amazing your wet tongue and soft mouth feel. “God!” he groans. “I hope your pussy is this fuckin’ tight.” 
His curiosity gets the best of him. After a few minutes of fucking your throat like it’s a toy, he pulls out with a moan, giving you heart eyes at the image of your messy hair and sloppy mouth dripping in spit. He holds your face in his big hands, his talons gently caressing your cheeks. “On your back,” he orders. You must go too slow for him because he tosses you down onto your backside himself and quickly ducks between your thighs, his big, feathered hands parting them. 
“K-Keigo,” you stammer, but that’s all you can get out before he’s cutting the waistband of your panties off with his teeth and sliding his big, fat, wet tongue all over your slit.
All words cease to exist as pleasure washes over you which only builds the more his tongue swirls against your clit and inside of you. Your eyes widen and your hands dig into the skin of his muscular back that flexes as he dips his head low to eat you out. His soft wings caress your skin as they wrap around you, making you feel like you’re being pampered from all ends. 
Hawks knows how to run his mouth, but also knows how to work it. His tongue moves magically inside of you, slurping up your juices as his nose and soft lips bump against your clit. You grind your hips up into him, meeting his tongue thrusts while his talons dig into the fleshy parts of your ass.
You can’t keep quiet, too enveloped in the ecstasy you’re feeling. “God, yes, Keigo!” you whine, bucking your hips up. “That feels so fuckin’ good! Keep going, please, ooooh, shit!” 
Hawks gladly takes all of those lovely sounds, moaning into your cunt. He is a rapid, ravenous animal, slurping up your pussy like he’s yearning for it. “So good,” he whines into your clit. “So fuckin’ good.” 
Your orgasm comes rather quickly, that knot in your core threatening to snap as he continues to work his tongue in and out of you. “Fuck, Kei!” you sob. “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum! Please let me cum, sir please!” 
“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo hums, sucking gently on your pussy lips. “Do it for me, baby bird. Cum all over my fucking face.” He goes back to eating you out, moving his tongue against that little spot up and inside of you that makes you see stars. “Do it,” he growls in his deep, gravelly voice. “Fuckin’ cum for me. Give it to me now!” 
A scream erupts from you–”Oh, shit!”–as you explode all over Hawks’ tongue. He moans in release with you as he slurps and laps you up, drinking in all that give him while you buck and writhe under his hands. Even when the orgasm high fades, he doesn’t stop. He continues to eat you out even as your pussy and body twitches. “O-Okay, Hawks,” you stammer. “Please, ah, please stop. I-I can’t…oh, my God!” 
Tears prick your eyes as the agonizing pleasure continues, swallowing you whole. His crimson eyes stare up into yours between your thighs, loving how desperate and pathetically horny you look as you writhe against his tongue. But as good as you taste, he needs to know how you feel. So he hikes himself up on top of you, his big body covering your smaller one, and his wings creating a curtain around you. 
“I’m gonna be honest with you, baby,” he pants. “I need to fuck you now and when I do, I ain’t gonna be nice. I need to cum as many times as it takes to ease this heat and that could be hours. You sure you’re okay with that?” Despite his obvious need, he is holding back, his cock throbbing against your thigh. 
Knowing that, you nod and press a kiss to his lips. “Yes, Keigo,” you purr. “I want this too.” You give him a smile, pretty and seductive. “So fuck me.”
The pro doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts by fucking you on your back, your knees tucked up into your chest. You’re happy for the lubricant and orgasm because it is a stretch. His cock stretches your pussy out in a way it didn’t do to your jaw, making your mouth go slack and your eyes widen. “Relax, mama,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your face while he rubs your clit. “You’re doin’ so well takin’ me.” 
After a few minutes of adjusting and slow strokes, Hawks feels you relax around him and finally begins to pound you like he needs to. He fucks you into the mattress that shakes and bounces beneath you, making your tits bounce in time with his thrusts. Each pump of his thick cock sends sparks of pleasure throughout your body as your soft, spongy pussy walls stretch and mold into his shape. 
“O-Oh, my God!” you cry, grasping his shoulders as he takes you straight to poundtown. “Fuck, Keigo, yes, baby! Fuck me just like that!” 
The winged pro grips your thighs and pins them down to the bed, giving you a stretch that yoga couldn’t even do. “Just like that?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you. “Look at you takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird. Bet you couldn’t wait for your boss to fuck you, huh?” 
You whine in response, earning a tongue shoved in your mouth as Hawks gives you a wet French kiss while he pounds into you. He nuzzles his nose into your neck next, covering himself in your scent and you in his.
You’re so deep in the pleasure that you don’t even realize that Hawks’ feathers, sharpened to the touch, cut off your bra until you feel the cool air on your nipples and then pleasure as he stimulates them with his feathers. 
When he begins to get closer, his crimson eyes glow red and the black rimming his eyes grows sharper like a hawk’s. You feel scared yet aroused at the same time, your pussy clenching around his cock. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up. Want you to fuckin’ cum with me too!” 
“Fuck, Hawks!” you whine, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your second orgasm erupts and sends you on a trip while Keigo fucks you like he’s trying to hit a home run. When he cums, he does so with an animalistic grunt and grips your hips so hard that they bruise. He tosses his blonde hair back, every muscle in his body tense from the pleasure. You gasp as he fills you up with his cum, feeling warmth flooding inside of you. It feels good to be full, you realize. 
But even when the orgasm fades and he has successfully filled you up, Hawks looks down at you with an increased level of need and lust that shakes you. “I ain’t done with you yet,” he growls. 
And he’s not. He fucks you in every single position imaginable. He fucks you doggy style, his cock pumping into you again and again while he yanks on your hair and dirty talks in your ear.
“You my little slut?” he pants, his hand grabbing and smacking your ass. “You love gettin’ fucked by me? You love this number 2 pro hero dick, don’t you, baby?” You can only whine in response, words and logical thoughts completely gone as he turns your pussy into mush. 
He fucks you on your side, his big body spooning yours and red wings wrapped around you as his throbbing cock drives inside of you. In this position, it’s easier to rub your clit and tilt your head back to kiss him, the two of you sharing breath as you hotly pant and moan into each other’s mouths. 
He fucks you with your head hanging off the bed and your leg pinned up to get a better angle at your G-spot and to drive himself deeper into you. 
He fucks you in mating press, his feet on the bed as he mounts you and drives himself inside of you like he’s trying hard to breed you. 
He fucks you in full nelson. 
In prone bone, his hands massaging your ass. 
While standing up, you bouncing like a cute little fuck bunny in his arms on his dick. 
From the bottom while you ride him, both from the front and the back, his hands groping your bouncing tits and jiggling ass. 
“Mine,” he growls to you in every position known to bed that he puts you in. “You’re fuckin’ mine, baby bird. Only mine.” 
And in every single position, he makes you and himself cum. He seems to always know how to trigger your orgasm so you cum again and again. He then uses your tight walls to chase his orgasms, cumming inside of you and filling up over and over again. He makes you sweat out your hair and your makeup, making you look like the sexiest Goddess to him as you take his cock like it’s your job. 
By the time he finally finishes, hours have passed and you are spent. Your body aches. You are wet with sweat and cum. Your pussy twitches and is sloppy with his and your cum mixed together, all of it dripping down your thighs and through the crack of your ass. 
Hawks, finally back to his normal self, lies down next to you and snuggles you into his chest. “Thank you for doin’ that,” he sighs, pecking you on the forehead. “You did so, so well for me, honey. I hope a dinner date can make up for that workout.” 
You only mewl tiredly in response, but you wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. He chuckles, the sound pleasant to your ear pressed against his heart. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighs.
And then you sleep, satisfied and comfortable finally. 
THE END. 
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morkitten · 2 months
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Akira Toriyama really is a master of so many things. Panelling, line of action, character design, cartooning, expression, posing, vehicle design. I don't think there's another manga artist that comes within swinging distance of the raw appeal that some of his best art has.
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Dragon Ball is a joy to read not because the story is so deep and interesting, but because the characters look so fun, all the time. You just want to keep seeing pictures of them. The action is so clear and clean and easy to read, the panelling is super great and highlights the motion of the action and gags, it's hard to stop.
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This one expression. One eye bugged out, the other one squinting. Every time he does this expression it's a delight. Piccolo Daimao's entire face is molded to this expression. The way his mouth is melting down to his chin, too. I feel like I've been chasing the high of looking at Toriyama's expressions nearly all my life I've been drawing.
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To the left is Yuji Horii, director of Dragon Quest's sketches of his initial ideas of these monsters, to the right is Toriyama taking those little sketches and then turning them into character designs. It's really incredible that he came up with the iconic Dragon Quest Slime from just a sketch of a gooey mess.
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It's hard to even imagine a world without his incredible influence. I started drawing by looking at Dragon Ball pictures on magazines. Magazines I bought so I could look at his art. All the games and anime and manga I enjoy have clear, direct links to Toriyama, and wouldn't exist without them. Dragon Quest and Chrono Trigger, obviously, he worked on them. Sonic the Hedgehog, yep, there's a *lot* of Dragon Ball in there. Super Mario? There's Dr. Slump. You really cannot escape the influence of his art. There really isn't a modern illustrator that you can remotely compare to - not just because he's so popular, but because the best qualities of his art are, I think, unmatched. So, take this opportunity to learn and appreciate what he does that's so good. Thank you so much to your contributions, birdman.
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"Don't Touch Me" (Loki x F!Reader)
Summary: Cursed with the power of necrogenesis, you are held captive by the Avengers, who think you are too much of a threat to be allowed to roam free. When they decide to give you a chance to prove yourself, they entrust your care to Loki, who whisks you away to a safe house in New Asgard.
Pairing: Soft!Loki x Captive!Reader Content Warning: angst, comfort, smut (18+ ONLY), reader is a prisoner, Soft!Dom!Loki, narratophilia, magic bondage (soft), praise kink Word Count: 5.1k **Please reblog this if you like it! Thank you!**
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Hours? Days? Weeks?
For all you knew, it had been a year since your capture. 
Three years prior, you’d woken one not-so-fine morning to discover that everything died at the slightest touch of your finger. Whether it was a plant, animal, or person, nothing alive was safe from you. You didn't know how or why it was you, but the fact was: it was you. You went from normal insurance claims adjuster to reaper overnight. It was no small thing to get used to. 
You shut yourself away, learned to make friends online and in other countries whom you would never meet in person, tell the pizza guy to leave it outside (money’s in the mail slot), and to put the idea that you;d ever meet a man out of your head forever. You had yet to kill a human, thankfully, but every day you felt the anxiety build within your chest as you knew that record couldn’t possibly remain ‘zero’ forever. 
You were a monster. The best thing for a monster to do was to hide in its cave.
Yet, you’d managed three years of hiding, wearing leather gloves from the second you awoke to the second you went to bed (aside from in the shower, of course), and staying as far away from cities as you could. Perhaps, given how introverted you were naturally, you could live a quiet life in peaceful solitude. You were considering buying a cabin in the Appalachians, near a waterfall or a creek one day. It would be lonely, but at least you would be free and unafraid of accidentally killing someone who insisted on shaking your bare hand. The little town in Connecticut where you were keeping a low profile was close enough to NYC that you could see the light pollution on the southern horizon at night, and it would do for the time being. 
Unfortunately, your time ended. A surveillance camera had caught an accident of yours in a local park, where one of your gloves had blown off and flown down a path, and in chase, you’d tripped and tried to grab onto a tree branch to stop your fall. 
The entire tree came down behind you, barely missing your body, dead as if it had been dried up for centuries in the blink of an eye. 
That tape had made it to the eyes of Nick Fury himself over the course of only a few hours. The Team moved in on you on a typical Monday morning, just as you pulled on your gloves, ready to leave the apartment for work. What else could you have done but pulled off your gloves in an attempt to defend yourself? Despite being unable to take out any of your assailants, of which there were four, you’d taken out half of the park’s greenery, and a few unfortunate pigeons that couldn’t get out of your way as you stumbled and desperately scrambled away from the archer, the one with scraggly hair, the red witch, and the birdman. 
Before you knew it, you were subdued and wrapped up tightly so that none of your skin below your chin was exposed, and you were taken to a solid glass holding cell somewhere underneath a compound in the Hudson valley: the headquarters for the New Avengers Initiative. 
You were fed through a trick door in the side of the 12 x 12 cell (not that you were particularly hungry at any point). You were never taken out or touched, only handed sanitary items through the door and told to shower through a water spout that hung from the ceiling after most of the lab team studying you went home. Dr. Banner gave you 30 minutes without cameras trained on you every day. 
Not that it mattered much. You still sat there day in and day out, refusing to speak or answer any of the thousands of questions about your powers that you didn’t want to answer. You refused to eat, and you did little more than sleep or sit on the ground, staring off into the middle-distance. 
You began to get weaker, and that was when you first saw your champion. 
It was none other than Loki of Asgard, the god who’d torn New York City apart, then played an integral part in stopping the end of the world at the hand (quite literally) of a god much bigger than he. While the rumor was that he still wasn’t considered fully trustworthy, his role in saving humanity was apparently enough to give him a spot on the Avengers squad. 
On the morning he’d come down to the cell to get a look at you, he appeared tired, a bit annoyed to be there. “And what do you want me to do about her?”
“She’s a villain, she’s got your…um…background,” said Dr. Banner. “Perhaps she’ll talk to you. She will likely die in a few weeks if this continues. Something has to give.” 
“So you called me forth from my respite to show me your latest trophy? Do you think I would approve of you taking captive someone who won’t even speak her name?” he asked, sounding less impressed and more disappointed. “What makes you think she has ill intentions?”
Loki rounded a corner with Dr. Banner, and he was finally in your view. 
Your first impression was that he wasn’t quite as intimidating as you’d expected him to be. He was tall, but you’d anticipated a figure at least half a foot taller than what strode up to your cage, dressed in a black leather tunic, trimmed in gold, and form-fitting black trousers of the same color, tucked into green knee-length boots. His hair was tied in a tail at the nape of his neck, and several strands in the front were loose, framing his angular face. His eyes were intense and focused singularly on you as soon as he got you in his sights. 
“Did she try to kill you?” he asked, making a beeline for you, standing up along the glass, watching you with interest as if you were a zoo animal. 
“She did put up a fight. She may not have super serum strength or anything, but you try apprehending someone who can stop your heart with a flick,” Banner explained. 
“And I trust you explained to her what was happening, and gave her the chance to come quietly?” Loki inquired, smiling gently at you, making you turn your head away bashfully. 
“Well, no,” said Banner sheepishly. “We were under the impression it wasn’t going to be on the table. According to our intel, absolutely anything she touches dies before it hits the ground, you understand.”
“It sounds as if you wouldn’t have known either way,” scoffed Loki, getting down onto his knee, bringing his eye level closer to the floor, closer to you. “And you all think I’m the bad one. At least I eventually called my sins what they were and changed my ways.”
Banner shrugged. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Maybe if you can get her to talk, we can consider getting her out of there.”
Loki nodded. “I will do my best, and I won’t treat her like a war criminal for defending herself in the process.”
The doctor left the god alone, dimming the harsh fluorescent lights, making the environment slightly more comfortable. 
He smiled at you, and even though you knew he was in earnest, something about the sharpness of his grin, the unnatural whiteness of his teeth, gave him an air of sinister jest. You were still afraid to look him in the eye as he shifted around the cage next to where you leaned against the glass. 
You heard three light taps by your right ear, making you flinch. 
“Hello, there,” whispered a soft, deep voice. “Please don’t be frightened of me. I’m not frightened of you.” 
You finally used your voice for the first time in ages, compelled to respond to your dashing jailer without even really thinking on it. “That’s because of the glass.”
“I’m sorry? These walls are thick, would you mind terribly speaking up?”
“The glass,” you repeated. “If we were on the same side, you’d be afraid of me.”
“Forgive me, Miss,” Loki replied, “But I’ve been told enough about you to pass judgment on that, and I say, you aren’t a danger.”
“But how can you tell?” you asked meekly, feeling a tear at the corner of your eye, quickly blinking it back. It was remarkable at how fraught your situation felt: it was enough to extract intense emotions out of every single word you said. 
“Darling,” your ally leaned in, as if to whisper a gentle secret in your ear, “I trust my instinct. You look about as helpless as a gosling. I can see how the skin on your neck trembles.”
“I don't know why or how this happened. Please don’t expect answers,” you pleaded. “Please, tell them to let me go.”
Loki sighed and looked down. “My word isn’t, as of yet, in the best position here, though I am working on it, I assure you.”
“Please,” you said, the desperation in your voice losing intensity, giving way to an exhausted weakness. “Please, help me. I just want to live alone where I can’t hurt anyone. I won’t ever go looking for trouble, I swear--” 
“--ssh, I know, pet, I know,” Loki said quietly. “Cease worrying. Loki will take care of you.” 
Loki will take care of you.
The sentence, particularly its’ delivery, made goosebumps rise along your arms, although you felt them appear for a reason you didn’t quite find familiar at first. 
He stayed with you for nearly twelve hours, taking his meals with you, talking gently about inconsequential matters to distract you from your circumstances. 
When he was finally forced away so that you could have your evening shower, he turned back one last time before leaving. “I will always be back for you,” he vowed. “Y/N, you’ll be free by morning.” 
For the first time since your arrest, you slept soundly, your angular, Asgardian savior filling your dreams with feelings of safety and love. 
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Loki had promised your freedom by morning. He was true to his word. 
“Look, I don't exactly feel confident in letting you two go off into the wild blue yonder to cause havoc,” said the imposing Nick Fury, who, quite frankly, frightened the ever living hell out of you. “I was ultimately convinced,” he looked bitterly at Loki, who shrugged innocently, “but there are terms. If I get wind of either of you sneezing without permission, you both come right back here and get thrown into the motherfucking dungeon.”
“We don’t have a dungeon,” Loki mumbled, a smart-ass grin rolling across his face to try and break the tension. You smiled for the first time in a long, long while. 
“Watch it, Laufeyson,” said Fury. “You’re the one sailing this boat. Don't sink it.”
Neither of you wanted to arouse his ire any further, so you decided to quietly slip away and out of the city, taking a quinjet being flown by Banner out to a place you’d never realized existed. 
“New Asgard,” your handsome escort explained as you began your descent. “The survivors among my people settled here after the fall of our homeworld and the slaughter we faced when we tried to escape. There aren’t many. It is…regrettably…a bit spartan.” 
“Better than that terrible cell,” you answered softly, barely audible. Loki, with the natural hearing of a god, still made out what you’d said, and he gently took your hand and gave it a squeeze, making your heart flutter when you looked into his promising blue eyes. 
Indeed, the place was no bigger than a fishing village. In fact, that was essentially what it was. Even Loki scrunched his nose at the sight as you disembarked and let Banner fly off with the plane. Loki had never let go of your hand, and each of you had a small bag slung over your opposite shoulders. 
“Welcome to New Asgard,” he said, a bit of disappointment lacing his tone. “We are going to be staying here until Fury sees fit to declare us tame enough to come home.” 
You walked up a path to the small town square, every house basic in construction small in scale, and underwhelming in neighborly feeling. Most of the Asgardians were dressed in heavy knitted sweaters and boots and kept their heads down and eyes on their work. 
“Weren’t you their prince?” you asked quietly. “Why aren’t they bowing?”
Loki sighed. “Our system of government has changed somewhat since relocating,” he said. “Also, the present King isn’t exactly fond of me.” 
You decided to take things one moment at a time (there were too many conflicting emotions swimming in your head to warrant fixating on one anyway), and to let his cryptic comments go. You were going to be here for a long time, so perhaps it was best to let it go. Loki would open up to you in time. 
You were nearly knocked over by two children running in chase around you as you meandered. Loki grunted, but remained soft for your sake. “We will need to inform these people, however, to mind themselves around you,” he said, holding back his annoyance. 
“Even if it happened by accident, I couldn’t live with myself,” you mentioned. 
Loki stopped you and scooped a hand under your chin, looking you in the eye with warm assurance that also had an air of dominance to it, almost like an attractive young school teacher, stern but also kind in his insistence for your obedience.
“Yes, you can, and that is why we are here together,” he said. “Please remember that we are here to help each other, and I am here to protect you.” 
“It’s them that need protection from me,” you moaned, disheartened. “If it weren’t for the gloves…” you trailed off. 
Loki shook his head and let you go. He tapped your glove. “These will be coming off. Today.” 
“No!” you said quickly. “Please, Loki, don’t expose me to everyone like that.”
Your escort shook his head. “Let’s get inside and discuss this. I do believe rain is coming.” 
He was correct. Just as the pair of you found your small hovel towards the far end of the shoreline, a chilly splattering of precipitation began to fall about you. Taking out a brass key, he brought you inside, taking your rucksack and tossing it by the bedroom door carelessly. 
The cabin was one three rooms: a living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen barely big enough for two people to turn around in. The bathroom also hardly had enough room for a human-sized creature to stand comfortably, as it was about the side of a phone booth plus perhaps a few square feet. There were furnishings, but the sofas, chairs, and tables all look like they’d been scavenged from an old lady’s garage sale at best. 
The bedroom only had one large bed, taking up most of the minimal space by itself. 
You stood, stupefied, in the middle of the room as Loki observed. You kept your gloved hands close to your chest as you anxiously looked around. 
“You may as well get comfortable while I make us some tea,” Loki suggested. “This miniscule cottage is our indefinite home.” 
You sat quietly, refusing to move your hands as Loki set up a small tea set he found in the cabinets, taking the steaming kettle to your cup, and in a moment, the smell of peppermint filled your nostrils, putting you slightly more at ease. 
He sat beside you, not touching anything on his side of the table, instead bringing the attention back to you once again. He was like an explorer discovering new territory; he needed to know everything about you. 
“Pet, I will wait until you are comfortable removing them, but I would like to see them come off today,” he said, again with that attractive stern-but-kind tone that was beginning to make more than your heart flutter. “I would like to feel your skin on mine.”
“You wish to die, then. I can’t control it,” you said quietly, looking away.
“That’s merely because you were never given the opportunity to see if you could,” said Loki, absentmindedly holding out a hand, making you shrink back reflexively. 
“Please, don't touch me!”
Loki quickly withdrew, giving you your space and shrinking toward the opposite end of the couch. You couldn’t help but notice he looked a little hurt. “I…I’m very sorry,” you apologized, hoping you didn’t scare off your guardian. “You’re wonderful, and I can’t be the one to take your life, even by accident,” you blurted out. 
Loki bit his lip, looking at you again. “Wonderful?” 
You nodded. “I believe you when you say you’re not afraid of me. But…I am, okay? I’m a monster.”
He sighed, thinking for a moment on what to say next. “I know monsters. I’ve met them, slain them…you are no monster.” His gentle words filled you with warmth. “And furthermore,” he continued, “I would allow you to touch me, barehanded, right here and now.” 
“No.”
You felt his hand on your shoulder, lithe but steady. “The thing about magic, Y/N, is that no matter what form it comes in, what you see is never the complete picture. Any and all magic can be trained, whether to contain or expand.” 
You twiddled your thumbs nervously. “I don’t even know where this came from, so how can I know what the key is to controlling it?”
“Willpower,” Loki said, matter-of-factly. “It’s simply how any magic works.” 
Loki had stealthily shifted so that your outer thighs were touching, and you were more than a little aware of it. Then, you looked up at your helper just as he brushed a strand of hair away from your brow, tucking it behind your ear, making you sigh a little. 
“Ms Y/N, am I startling you?” he asked. “I don’t want you feeling ill at ease with me.” 
You didn’t reply. 
“If I had to be sent out to a wooden box in the middle of a Norwegian mud pile, I must say I could not have found a more exquisite creature to share in my exile,” he whispered. “I only hope my saying so isn’t too forward.” 
“It isn’t,” you answered bashfully. “Loki…I haven’t thanked you yet for what you’ve done for me. And…I think I know how I want to.”
It was as if Loki could read your thoughts, for it was here that he leaned in for your first kiss. You were timid at first, but seeing as it was your escort who initiated contact, you had nothing to worry about, so long as he remained the one to make the first move.
As you pulled apart, you went to remove your cardigan, but you felt Loki’s hand press against yours from through the leather glove you still wore. 
“It is your own soft flesh I want feeling my muscles, your fingers I want exploring every part of me,” said Loki. “I have given you every dignity I could throughout this process, but if you cannot give me this one, we cannot--”
You whimpered, and Loki instantly regretted his words. “Y/N, I apologize!” 
Shaking your head, you looked at him again, letting your lips perk up at the corners. “You’re right. And, although this has never happened to me before, I don’t want to…to miss out, you know? I just…what if I touch you in the wrong way by accident? If I jump or get nervous?”
Loki smiled. “If you’d really like to, I have an idea. Let me guide you along the way.”
“How?”
“I’ll simply communicate with you. Use my words to describe every gentle move I make. Would that suit you enough to give this a try? I must confess, with each passing moment, I just want to hold you more and more, and listen to your sweet cries--”
“--I…but…”
“There is one more thing we can try,” Loki suggested, brushing your eyebrow with his thumb before laying a sweet, shallow kiss on it. “I can bind you with magic. Softly bind you, so that if you needed to move away, you could, but the weight would be enough to keep you from inadvertently brushing against me with every twitch of pleasure I give to you.”
You felt a hot blush run up your face as the desire laced in between his words filled you with need. 
“Wait…”
You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, tugging at the very tip of the ring finger of the glove on your right hand. 
Loki ran a thumb across your hot cheek. “You must be brave. I believe in you.” His goddamned touch nearly made you break your concentration, but you were still able to slowly, gently, cautiously, pull off the glove, setting it on the table with a trembling hand. 
“If this doesn’t work, I’ll die,” you said, your voice quaking. 
Loki was smiling with enough confidence for you both. “There won’t be a need, pet.” 
You raised your hand, keeping your eyes focused on Loki, who sat up straight, the kind, empathetic look in his eyes never wavering. If he was in fact nervous, he was a brilliant actor, because you were getting no impression that he felt any sort of peril in the moment.
Finally, you found enough courage to lift your bare hand and bring it in the general direction of your guide. For his part, Loki still did not flinch, even when you felt as if you were about to foolishly commit a murder. 
“Loki, I’m sorry if this doesn’t work,” you said meekly, trusting your arm forward before you could change your mind, and closing your eyes. 
You felt his cool skin make contact with the pads of your fingers after landing on his left cheek. You didn’t immediately open your eyes, instead waiting for the sound of a body hitting the floor, the sound of a final breath being forced out of the lungs, or the sensation of Loki’s skin going unnaturally cold.
The only thing you felt after several moments was a second set of fingers gently settling over your hand. You opened your eyes, and the tender sight of Loki holding your palm against his skin, his eyes closed as he genuinely savored your touch, was all you saw, and you suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter. 
“Oh, Loki…” you sighed in relief. “You’re still here.”
“You don’t want me to die, and thus, I haven’t. Just as I said, yes?”
You smiled and slowly took your hand back so that you could remove your other glove, and with another quick breath, you placed each hand on each of Loki’s, curling your fingers in between his. “Still alive!” you said with a small smile as you finally began feeling at ease for the first time in three long, chaotic years.
“More alive than ever, little princess,” Loki said, leaning over and rewarding you with a longer, deeper kiss. It went electricity down your core, radiating down your legs. You were finally allowed to feel your yearnings, and now, tonight, you could finally act on them. You certainly couldn’t think of a more beautiful, gentle, sexy partner to give yourself to than Loki. 
“I think I’m ready for you,” you whispered. “I…I really want you, Loki. You’re the first being to show me such tender kindness, especially after I became a ‘reaper.’”
Loki chuckled without breaking his seductive demeanor. “Is that what you call yourself? Well, princess,” he said, gracefully pulling you off of the sofa to your feet, “the only thing you shall be reaping are the rewards of your obedience to me.”
Smiling, thrilled at the sexy shift to Loki’s tone, you nodded. The god asked, “Y/N, we know your touch won’t destroy me, but would you still like for me to bind you?”
“Yes.” You weren’t agreeing solely out of fear for Loki’s safety, not any more. “Please, an..and please talk to me, too.”
“With pleasure, princess. You were so brave for me, you’ve earned it,” Loki said slowly, leading you to the large, simply-constructed bed and shutting the door behind him. “Now, lie down, no need to remove any clothes.” 
You obeyed without a word, which pleased your bodyguard as he stood, towering over you as you lay supine on the mattress. “Good girl,” he said melodically, the voice warming your core, smooth as butter and low as a gentle hum. He snapped his fingers, and with a quick wipe of green mist, both of your clothes fell instantly away, and he now stood before you entirely naked, and you splayed before him similarly. 
“My, your skin radiates with warm beauty! Raise your arms out and to the side, or whatever position you would feel best.”  You did so, again, without a word, taking your wrists and laying them out at an angle, making your breasts pull apart from one another and creating a gap in between them. 
He waved his hand and snapped again, and you felt your wrists go heavy, as if a sandbag was weighing them down. You could move them a little, and you got the feeling you could twist yourself free if needed (not that you wanted to), but you were still securely on the bed, pinned at the wrists and ankles, your legs spread apart, exposing your quickly-wettening pussy to the air as well as your partner. 
Loki moaned with approval. “Now, if you need me to lift these, please say so. Understood, lovely?”
You nodded. “Yes, Loki. I’ll do anything.” 
Loki looked thoroughly satisfied at your answer. “Oh, you are so obedient! A natural submissive,” he said happily. “It is fortune’s highest blessing to be sharing a bed and home with you tonight…” 
He lowered himself over the bed. “May I climb over you and look down upon my conquest?”
You nodded. “Yes, Loki.” 
He climbed between your legs, kneeling up between them, his solid, chiseled torso towering above you, intimidating you the perfect amount to thrill you. “Now, I’m going to nibble on that darling little space you have right…here…”
He lowered his head between your breasts, using tongue and teeth to stake his claim on your skin, leaving tiny marks that only nipped a little as he worked his glorious sex magic on you. Every nip, lick, and moan from him made your folds wetter, heavier, needier. 
“Y/N, I’m going to touch you now,  in this sensitive spot between your legs,” Loki narrated. “I won’t put a finger inside your passage, but I am going to enjoy drawing little figures between your lips and pinching your pleasure bud. And you are going to writhe under me, increasingly needy as pleasure builds up, throbbing for my release…”
You gasped in pleasant surprise as he almost immediately took a hand and inserted two exploratory fingers between your folds. “Norns, my girl is dripping with desire for me. My good girl wants to please her savior!” He pressed his erection against the inside of your thigh as if to display with pride how quickly he’d been turned on by how you were grinding your hips, bucking against his hand.
His silky sweet words echoed in your brain, delirious with arousal. You wanted him to sing these narrations to you over and over. His rich, deep voice was almost enough to send you over your edge. Every word, every action he took, drove you crazy with delightful ache. He fiddled with your clit like it was a tiny marble between his thumb and forefinger, and every flick or twitch of it made you moan and pull against your invisible restraints just enough to feel helplessly anchored in place.
“Y/N, you are so wet, so ready for me already,” he moaned. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fill you with my cock, and you’ll feel your walls stretching around me as I enter you--” 
True to his word again, Loki took himself into his palm, positioning himself above you, his tip at your entrance, then, gently, slowly, he thrusted forward, and you felt a slight pinch as he claimed your cunt. Indeed, it felt like every cell inside you had to stretch in order to sheath Loki’s god-sized cock, but the little bit of pain you felt in the moment was quickly washed away in the violent shudders of pre-orgasm tremors that were already reaching critical mass in your core. 
Loki arched his back, immediately growling in pleasure as he began thrusting, picking up tempo, sliding up and down your slickened walls with just enough friction to urge him to the edge quicker than he anticipated. 
“Damn, but I’m coming…”
You were close, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for you much longer. “How hard are you coming?” was the smutty question you chose to coax his orgasm from him. “Tell me please! What does it feel like being inside me, Loki?” 
Loki grunted animalistically as he concentrated. “You’re milking my cum from me, girl, you’re about to be so full of my seed--”
With the help from his narration, you finally felt your orgasm thunder down your passage and shake your thighs, pushing a high-pitched whine from you as your mouth fell open and your eyes slammed shut. 
“Ah! There she is! My good girl!” 
Loki’s fall almost immediately followed, marked by four remarkably hard thrusts as he came inside you, his breath heavy and quick. He brought a hand down to your clit and gently massaged it as your orgasm poured out into the open. 
“Yes, ride it out with me, that’s my girl,” Loki purred. 
Once you both were spent, Loki took your magic bonds off of you. It was still light outside, but you both agreed you were exhausted from your romp, and that perhaps an hour’s nap before supper would be welcome. Still naked, you both went underneath the covers, Loki turning onto his stomach so that he could rest his head under your arm, using your shoulder as his pillow.
“For as long as we are here, you will have nothing to be afraid of, pet,” your lover promised. 
“Nothing?” you asked hopefully, already knowing that the strong, wonderful god in your arms was going to protect you for as long as you needed him. 
“Your death touch, you have nothing to fear, for it brings me to life,” he whispered softly in your ear. You sensed he was nodding off, and sure enough, with that, his head fell on your shoulder, his breath settling into a softer, quieter rhythm. 
Loki will take care of you…
You took a hand and began combing it through his hair, once again enjoying the old-but-new sensation of something other than leather against your fingertips.
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@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @muddyorbs @michelleleewise @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @chantsdemarins @glitterylokislut @kellatron55 @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peachyjinx @trickster-maiden
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vintagerpg · 1 month
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Knock offs, all the way down. I love this stuff, man, it just scratches an itch in my brain in a way that never fails to be entertaining.
So, this is Skull Turret (1982), one of two little plastic towers made to hold the monster figures from Arco’s Dragons n’ Monsters line of rack toys. The other one is Headsgone Tower. Each had one dragon and three monsters, all molded in colored plastic that is so bright it is difficult to photograph. I have the full compliment, save one of the dragons.
The towers are cute, but the monsters are the interesting bit. Old heads might have already noticed, certainly folks who listened to the podcast episode on these guys know: the little dudes are knock-offs of various RPG miniatures. The dragon that I don’t have is Ral Partha’s Royal Dragon, while the one I do have is just the Welsh dragon in plastic. The Cylcops and the Birdman are both very close but not exact replicas of minis from Martian Metals (circa 1979?). The fellow with the whip is a crude copy of Tom Meier’s Troll Discipline Master from Citadel (circa 1981?). The Djinn is from Heritage, as is the “Brawn Hulk,” itself an Umber Hulk from D&D with the serial numbers filed off. Last, and perhaps most recognizable, is the Lizardman With Club from Grenadier’s line of Dungeons & Dragons miniatures from 1980.
I love them!
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quasi-normalcy · 4 months
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