#he is so fun to draw yet does not have a canon voice

[blakedotpng]

blake’s looking awfully chill as he plummets to his death

#blake infinity train #infinity train #infinity train book 6 #I forgot his number we’re going to ignore that #he is so fun to draw yet does not have a canon voice #I rly wanted to draw rhe turnip as a helicopter #for some reason

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn!reader, implied bottom reader, semi-erotic and bloody fingersucking, romance, struggling with intimacy on astarions part, not an established relationship fr, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.6k (literally what in the fucking world)

✮ a/n ; *smacks astarions back* you can fit so much projection onto this thing.

canon divergent i.e. this takes place during act two but reader doesn't sleep w astarion in act one. it's explained in da fic.

The taste of intimacy is acrid.

It's bitter and sharp to the senses. In many ways, he finds it unpleasant. Intolerable. He's lost in thought, primarily caught up in the sensation of your skin pressed against his.

Too much, he decides, this entire affair is proving to be too much.

"You know, there's no need for theatrics," He can almost hear the recoil in his own voice, like hiding away into the shadows when dawn approaches. It's instinctive. "All this...poetry is quite thoughtful but very unnecessary."

Yes. Unnecessary. Somehow it feels violent, though it's anything but. You pull away from him and he winces at your expression - genuine confusion draped across your face. Your skin is hotter than the sun, much warmer than his. You're attractive.

Astarion wonders if he can assess you as beautiful. If he's allowed to use something so flowery.

He can't stop thinking about it. He's played the part of a lover before, so kissing and touching in quiet whispers is not unfamiliar. If that's the sort of affair you wish to have, than Astarion can be apart of it no problem. Whatever makes your desire towards him tangible, whatever you want. The last part he doesn't say out loud, or to himself.

But it was real, just a moment ago, wasn't it? The feeling of your lips on his forehead and the crook of his shoulder was real. The words of affection were real. He was looking for fun, debauchery, pleasure.

This is not that, he decides. He decides, too, that he does not like it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh don't play dumb, darling," He says, his throat tightening. It's natural to him, in a way. "Though your heroic romantic gestures are quite something, they're very unnecessary. We both know what we're here for, do we not? A little roughing up is fine."

You pause, and you stare. Your eyes are clear, like the water of the open ocean surrounding the lower city. Even in the darkness, he can see you perfectly. You can see him too, but he can't see himself even in the reflection of your gaze. He wonders if that is some kind of mercy, but remembers quickly that no god has ever shown him such kindness.

And you wouldn't either, or you shouldn't. He convinces himself that its a courtesy, and that this conversation is an attempt at honest between you. He's expecting something different. Maybe a snarky laugh of approval, or a widening set of eyes. Lurid with excitement in all the ways you're okay to defile him.

Most people he's laid with have given him the same. They're pleased with his fluidity. He shows it off like he's water in a beautiful chalice, look at all the forms I can take and adore me.

And yet, you're all but silent. What a terrible conversation to have when he's almost inside of you, he thinks.

"If that is what you desire," You says, your words slow. You then, so softly, draw your thumb over his cheek bone. It takes strength not to recoil. He almost wants to mock you. Wants to bite at the gentle caress of your hand, wants to make you bleed. "But I would've hoped my gestures conveyed my feelings a little better than this."

Shit. Shit.

"Feelings? Have you really taken a page out of the wizards book and written me a poem?"

"It would be easy enough to do," You say, so easily and so naturally - he can't help but show that he is startled. Shaken by the sincerity of every word. Bitter. "If you desire such gestures."

A feeling coils in his chest. He cannot distinguish his urges from each other. Whether it is hunger or desire. Whether to push you away or cling to you closer. He cannot make sense of any of it, despite his efforts. He doesn't need any blood, he's sure - but his mind lacks clarity.

Is he afraid or angry? He does not remember how to tell the difference between those two emotions, either.

"We're here for sex, you know?" He says, proactively pushing into old habits. His eyes feel heavy in their sockets, like their weighed by his own need to be desired perfectly. He seduces you easily. Lowers his lids and parts his lips, snakes a hand against your waist and lets you fall forward until you collapse against his chest. "Hot, lecherous, burning pleasure. Such romantics are best saved for..."

You look at him, and you want him. But it is not the same. Even he is not so foolish as to deny something you make so obvious.

"For?"

The words someone you love do not leave his lips, though they threaten to. "Someone more suitable."

"There's no one so suitable as you," You say, and the words do not sound damning. They do not intend to please him. They're not coated in myth or covered in lies. They're like you, honest and rich. "And that pleasure can be found all the same with regards to what I do."

Astarion understands little of you. Never has, in full. He finds your character damning, finds your kindness often irritable. His plan to seduce you had worked, he thought. You had taken some kind of liking to him. Enough that you act against yourself, just to appease him at times. To clumsily win him over by being a little bad, or being silver-tongued.

But you hadn't laid a hand on him despite his efforts. Without taking anything, you shield him from harm. You kill the people who wish to kill him. He'd never stopped trying to seduce you, because it benefits him to play the part of prized possession to the strong.

He thought your acceptance of his request meant you had finally broken. That he could go through with it.

Yet, you touch him like this - as you have been all evening. You brought a bedroll to fuck him in the woods of all places. Your hands are soft, and warm. You're reverent. He's kissed plenty of people, and played lovers even more than that. It was his lifes work, after all.

But it is impossible to deny that you're different, despite his best efforts to believe you are not.

Astarion isn't familiar with your gestures. He cannot hold his ground against honesty when his existence is passing and pleasant - ephemeral as a white lie.

"Astarion," You say, clear. You enunciate his name. It is not intended to have any weight, yet it crushes him. His chest tightens. Aches. It is all so strangely miserable. He wants to interrupt you, but cannot fix his lips to do such a thing "I wish to make love to you. You're welcome to find it unnecessary."

A kiss. Your mouth is warm, and tastes faintly like the sweet wine you had before bed. Your hands cup around his nape, and your other hand keeps you upright. He won't fall for it but his body does not listen, makes him melt comfortably into the bedroll. You kiss and kiss and kiss, and it is well-practiced like you have loved many times before him.

You must know something better than him.

Still. There is not enough strength in his limbs to fight you. His eyes blink open when you've stopped. A scream almost rips from him, but he's frozen in place instead. He can fight now. He could fight this.

The nails he tries to scratch you with, dig deep onto your waist. He closes his eyes. A begging for you to stay.

"Darling, really," His voice cracks. A touch so gentle and unfamiliar may be the thing to flay him open - cut him into pieces and open him up the blackened night sky. His lips feel cracked, hands shaking. "Wholly unnecessary."

There is no way out from this. From his feelings for you. How terrible.

You examine him quietly, then smile like you know everything. He is so much older than you, yet you smile like you've lived one thousand more lives. Maybe you have.

"Astarion," You mumble, your hands finding his hands. You lock your fingers together, your touch making his nerves fire whenever you brush along them. Your free hand ghosts his lips. "Look at me,"

Then, very suddenly, you push your thumb against the point of his fang. It punctures you in no small wound, and you push until the blood spills. You wince, but it's barely there. You let the blood spill into his parted mouth, let the taste of it fetter onto his lips and tongue. It's almost saccharine. He leans up on instinct, latching himself to it. He drinks from your self-inflicted wound with his eyes lidded, with desperation so unsightly.

You don't slink back. You watch onto him fondly. Watch him eat recklessly. Watch him swallow around you.

You already know what he is, he realizes, too late. The weight of your deliberateness nearly buries him. Unpleasant eyes, that know everything about him without any modicum of effort.

The feeling of anxiety, of restlessness well up even deeper inside him. The bitter unforgiving irony of finding intimacy with you lingers still. There is no escaping the thought that it will be you who betrays him first, and not someone else.

But the taste of blood, your blood, washes it all out. The gentle touch of your skin unsettles him as much as it makes him needy. He wants to be adored, and be adored by you.

He wants you in a way that does not incite any instinct. He works against each one trying to look you in the eyes.

When he manages, you are there and you are kind. You want to make love to him. He wants, very desperately, to believe it is possible. That such a ridiculous thing exists outside of a performance.

His voice is soft as a whisper. "I guess it's not impossible to appease you,"

You kiss the corner of his mouth and grin. He doesn't flinch this time.

"I'm quite relieved."

#astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #writing tag #astarion you are so similar to me!!!!! stop!!!!!!! identity theft is a crime mr magistrate!!!!!!!!! #also someone tell me if this is worth uploading on ao3 lol

[beammeupmoony]

Wrote something for @redriotinggg because they had a cute prompt and it sounded fun. Sorry if characters are out of character. I've never written for One Piece before. Basically it's what if Zoro gave Usopp his bandana the way Luffy sometimes gave people his straw hat. I haven't written in years, and I wrote this in one night, and did not re-read it. It's just a little self-indulgent thing. Story under the cut.

Don't Be Scared

One Piece. Usopp centric. Was written as Zosopp.

It wasn't that Usopp was cowardly. No one could have ever predicted that he would come down with a crippling case of Don't-Want-To-Get-Torn-Apart-itis. And this was what pushed the sniper now to keep running as a group of three marines chased after him. It had been a simple task, create a distraction so that Nami could sneak in and rob the Marine base blind. Well, "base" was generous. It was little more than a two story building in the middle of the island town. Usopp had used a small round of ammunition just to create a loud noise. It wasn't meant to draw attention to himself, yet when the loud pop had sounded, one of the marines had caught him before he could duck out of sight. Now, he was running for his life as the marines pursued him. "Stop!" One of the marines ordered. Shit, shit, shit! Usopp kept running. His legs burned, haven't fully healed from the events in Alabasta. Without warning, he hears the scream of three marines, and the thus as their bodies hit the ground. Usopp turns around, panting heavily as Zoro sheathed his swords.

"Ah, thanks, Zoro... don't know what I'd do without you," Usopp gasped, holding a stitch in his side.

Zoro turned to face Usopp and said, "The witch has finished pilfering the place, so we are heading back to the Merry. Let's go." Zoro began to walk north, the opposite direction of where they had left the Merry. Usopp moved forward and turned the swordsman around, "It's this way, Zoro. Come on, you must have just come from the Merry. You're sense of direction is truly hopeless, ya know?"

The swordsman glared at Usopp and scoffed, "Hah? I know my way around well enough."

Ussop just shook his head. The two head back to the Merry, Usopp talking about how he knew Zoro would be right there, and that running from the marines was all a part of his plan. Zoro just rolled his eyes, hand resting on Wado. When they reach the Merry, Zoro speaks, "You could have taken out those three marines yourself."

Usopp blinks and is quick to scoff, "Of course I could have. I, the great Captain Usopp, who have eight thousand men at my command-"

Zoro shakes his head, "That's not what I mean."

Usopp would laugh a bit, trying to keep his grin in place. He knew perfectly well what Zoro meant. But of course it was easy for Zoro to say. He wasn't like Zoro. Strong, confident, fearless. Reliable.

"Come on, Zoro. Not all of us can become invincible by-" Usopp adjusted his own bandana so it was right above his eyes, and lowered his voice, "Three swords style: Oni-GIRI!"

Zoro doesn't laugh, but there is a glint of amusement in his eyes that Usopp, whose eyes were downcast, does not see. Usopp cannot find the courage to meet the swordsman gaze. Usopp hears the sound of fabric being moved and something is tied around his wrist. He looks up and sees that Zoro had tied the black bandana around Usopp's wrist. Usopp opens his mouth to ask what Zoro was doing when there was a high pitched whine as cannon Fite landed near the Merry. A marine ship was heading for them. Nami, who had arrived before them, began barking orders to get the ship out of here. Zoro took off to defend the ship, cutting Canon balls in half as they fired at the Merry. Sanji was at the helm, Chopper unfurling the sails with their newest crewmate's, Robin's, help. Usopp touched the bandana. Why had Zoro given it to him? He shook his head to clear it and moved to raise the anchor of the ship.

They get away, barely, and on the open ocean, Usopp approaches Zoro, who was leaning against the rails of the Merry. Zoro doesn't move, eyes closed, his swords at his side. Usopp had untied the black bandana and held it out to Zoro, "Hey, Zoro. What was this for?"

Zoro opened one gray eye, took the bandana and said, "you're the one who said it made me invincible."

Usopp felt his cheeks grow hot as he spluttered, "I didnt- you know what I meant, Zoro-"

Zoro closed his eye again and grunts in response. Usopp continued to try to protest, but Zoro cut him off, "Usopp. It was just for you to be brave."

Usopp's cheeks darkened even more. The swordsman was so blunt. Nothing more was said between the two. But Usopp, apart from feeling embarrassed, also found himself pleased. Having the bandana had made him feel... safer? And he couldn't deny that. Zoro was the most dependable on the crew.

And so it went. Whenever Usopp needed to be brave, Zoro would tie the bandana around the sniper's wrist. Usopp would pull his wristband over the bandana, to keep it safe. It proceeded in this way until they reached Water 7.

When Usopp decided to leave the crew, he found that he missed the security the bandana had brought him. And when he apologized and returned to the group, he kept himself at a distance. Mostly because he was ashamed at how he had acted. And he wrestled with the notion that people on the ship may hate him now. That Zoro may hate him. One night, Usopp climbs up to the crows nest to relieve Zoro for night watch. When he reaches the top, Zoro turns to look at him.

"H-hey. I'm here to take watch. So, uh, yeah." Usopp can feel his insides shrivel under the steely gray gaze of Zoro. The swordsman nods, and moves past the sniper without a word. Usopp bites his lip and his chest aches. Would they ever be nakama again? Would Zoro ever forgive him? Zoro began climbing down the ladder and Usopp kept his eyes on the horizon. When he no longer can hear the sound of footsteps, Usopp allowed himself to turn to find a folded black bandana on the ground near the ladder. Tears sting his eyes as he reached out and tied it on his wrist, covering the cloth with his sweatband. Be brave, Usopp. Usopp gripped his wrist tight, feeling the knot of the bandana press into his skin as tears fall onto the floor of the crows nest. Even if Zoro couldn't speak to him, even if he was still mad, he was willing to remind Usopp that Usopp could be brave. Usopp's chest swelled with comfort. This time, it would be awhile before the bandana returns to its owner. When he finally returns it, he manages to sit up with Zoro on watch and apologize again.

The bandana passes between the two men, almost always wordlessly. Never did they exchange it in front of the crew. It was always subtle. But there was added weight as time went on. Intense looks of reassurance and gratitude. A brush of calloused fingertips.

Then, Thriller Bark. That damned ship of an island. They had gained so much there: treasure, a new nakama, and had taken down another warlord. But they had almost lost more than that. They had almost lost Zoro. Even now, as they sailed away from the cursed ship, Usopp still couldn't settle the knot in his stomach. He walked along the deck of the Sunny, and his sharp gaze moving to fix on the training room high above the ship. He could just make out movement in the room. Unbelievable. Usopp climbs the ladder and pushes the door open without knocking. Zoro was indeed inside, lifting his monstrous weights. What little bandages still remained on the swordsman were tinged pink.

"Chopper will kill you for that, if you don't kill yourself first," Usopp states matter-of-factly. Zoro doesn't acknowledge the words. He just continued to work, lifting the weights with shaking arms. Anger licks at Usopps gut, and he waves a hand, "Oi, I'm talking to you, Zoro!"

Zoro growls, "I wish you wouldn't. I'll lose count."

Usopp glared at the stupid man before him and walked up to Zoro, standing closer than he typically dared when the swordsman was swinging around weights. Zoro growls and sets the weights down, "What do you want, Usopp?"

Usopp snaps, "I want you to relax. You're not even supposed to be up, from what Chopper says."

"I'm fine," he rumbled. Usopp shouts, "You aren't! You're injured! You almost died, Zoro! Died! That's serious! You could have died and left-" Usopp stops before saying me and instead says, "The crew! You could have left us!"

"But I didn't."

"That's not the point! You do this all the time, Zoro, you put your life on the line without thinking about what it would to- to us if you didn't come back!" Usopp throws his hands up in the air and looks away, "You... you make us feel safe, Zoro. And we-... I... I don't like feeling like you won't come back."

Zoro remained silent for several minutes. Usopp's chest tightened with anxiety as it stretched on. He went too far, he crossed the line. But a large hand gripped his wrist, the one with the sweatband, and a deep rumble softly said, "Usopp."

Usopp looked up at the larger man. Stormy eyes meet his brown ones, and his heart skips a beat. He had forgotten how close he was to the swordsman. Zoro kept a firm grip on the sniper's wrist, "I can't promise I will always come back. We're pirates. It doesn't work like that." Usopp doesn't look away, holding his breath under the intense gaze of the former pirate hunter. "And I need to keep training. I need to be stronger. I have to be." Zoro's voice never wavered, but there was a strain in it that Usopp could hear. No one knew what happened to Zoro, but clearly he had gone through something that had shaken him. For the first time since his fight with Mihawk, Usopp could see that Zoro was shaken. The normally self-assured first mate had had his confidence shaken. Zoro let go of the sniper's wrist and doesn't offer any other explanation.

"Y-you should get your bandages changed,  Zoro."

The swordsman nodded and headed for the trapdoor without a word. There is an ache in Usopp's chest that had nothing to do with anxiety. Without thinking about it, the sniper opened his mouth as Zoro opened the door.

"Zoro-wait."

Zoro turned back to face Usopp, and Usopp swallows, his heart hammering in his chest. He strode up to the swordsman and removed his olive green bandana, his curls bouncing as they are let free. Then, he tied the bandana onto the swordsman wrist. He glanced up at Zoro, who had raised his eyebrows in surprise. Usopp blushed and hurried past the swordsman, clambering down the ladder as fast as he could. That was stupid, what was he thinking?! How embarrassing, Usopp, get a grip!

But in the crows nest the swordsman touches the bandana, and the smallest of smiles grace his usually stoic face.

"Zoro!" Usopp called.

"Zoro!" Sanji repeated.

"Where are you going all by yourself?!" They shouted in unison.

Zoro called back, "For a walk. That okay?"

"Of course not!" Usopp shouted angrily.

"You're gonna get yourself lost, moron!" Sanji yelled.

Zoro glared and snarled, "Screw you, I'm not gonna get lost! All these trees have numbers on them, only an idiot would get lost here!"

Usopp and Sanji waved goodbye and told him to ask for directions. Sanji returned to the galley, but Usopp leapt off the Sunny and took off after Zoro, "Zoro, hold on!"

Zoro stops and glares at the sniper, "What now?"

Usopp shook his head, "No, nothing about directions, I just..." his heart fluttered in his chest, "you're still injured, you know. Maybe you should go with someone. Or maybe you should stay on the Sunny?"

Zoro pulled a face, "With the cook? No, thanks."

"But-" Usopp began, but Zoro pulled out his bandana and pulls the sweatband down to tie the bandana on the marksman's wrist. Zoro covered the bandana with the sweatband and Usopp suppresses a shiver as the large fingers brush against his skin.

"I'll come back."

Zoro spoke plainly. It was a fact. He would come back. Usopp relaxed, and blushed a bit, "Oh. Okay, then." Zoro chuckled, and headed off into the archipelago.

It wasn't that Usopp was cowardly. He wasn't running just to save his own skin. He was following his captain's orders to escape. The swordsman on his back was breathing raggedly as Usopp ran hard and fast from the Admiral bearing down on them. Pacifistas, an admiral, and enemies who were way out of their league? Luffy had given the order to escape.

"Put me down..." Zoro mumbled, "I'm letting you guys get away."

Usopp shook his head, "Not happening!"

He would have kept arguing had a beam not cut between them. Usopp fell backward as Zoro pitched forward, hitting the ground hard. And before Usopp could full rise, trying to rouse Sanji and Brooke so they could all run, the warlord Kuma had appeared behind them, in front of Zoro.

"So. You're still alive, Roronoa."

Usopp's heart sank as he gazed up at the Warlord.

"Only thanks to... your mercy..." Zoro managed to grunt out.

Kuma began pulling off a glove, asking, "If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

Usopp opened his mouth to shout for Zoro, but Kuma's hand made contact, and Zoro was gone. A wind blew through the field, "Zoro!!" Usopp felt his mouth move, but he couldn't tell who had shouted louder, him or Luffy. "What the hell did you do to Zoro!? He was right here and then he disappeared! Say something, damnit!" Usopp is on his feet, Kabuto in his hands as he shouted at Kuma, "Where did you send Zoro!?"

"Usopp, what out behind you!" Someone shouted.

"Behind me-?" Usopp turned to see PX-1 ready to fire a beam at him. But Kuma stepped forward and made the Pacifista disappear as well. While Kuma was occupied, Usopp moved numbly to Sanji, "the beam only grazed me. I'll lend you my shoulder-" but he had barely helped Sanji to his knees before Brooke was taken by Kuma as well. Sanji tried to strike Kuma but was kno ked aside. Usopp tried firing boshi after boshi at Kuma, but they didn't work. The massive man swung his hand at Ussop and all went dark.

This island, archipelago, whatever it was was going to kill him. He had been trying to lose the weight he had put on, but every success forward was followed by a major setback. When Heracles found Usopp, the boy was eating from the ramen River, slurping up noodles and broth as fast as he could.

"Usopp'n! You cannot keep eating the food. You will become too slow and fall prey to the plants here in Boin."

Usopp sniffed, and said, "Heracles, I don't know what else to do. I'm not... I'm not strong like Sanji or Luffy or..." or Zoro. His heart ached and he took another bite. His already large form expanded again, and there was a sudden sound of a rip. Usopp froze and stopped eating. The sweatband was stretched to its max, making it obvious that something else lay beneath. He pulled away the sweatband and saw a tear in the black bandana. He stared at it as he gently untied it, trying to prevent more damage. Oh. That's right. He still had Zoro's bandana. When it was removed from his wrist, he saw that the tear was minor. But it may as well have ripped in half with how it made him feel. Be brave, Usopp. His eyes fill with tears that he wipes away stubbornly. Gently, he folds the bandana and places it in his shorts pocket. He stands and turns to Heracles, "No matter what I say, Heracles'n, don't let me eat that food anymore. Even if you have to kill me to do it." Heraclese crosses his arms and nods, "Very well, Usopp'n."

Two years is a long time to spend running for your life every day, but he had survived. Usopp walked with his head held high, muscular shoulders squared as he looked around for familiar faces. Being back at the archipelago where he had been separated from his nakama made him ache. Who would he encounter first? Sanji? Robin? But his question was answered before he could run through the list. Someone had their back to him. Someone with bright green hair and three swords on his hips. Usopp strode up to the swordsman with confidence and the other man turned. More scars on his body, a scar over one of his eyes. But it was undoubted Zoro. Zoro's eye widened slightly and his face settled into an easy smirk as he looked Usopp up and down. Usopp's ears tinged slightly with pink, but he met the swordsman's gaze head on.

"Zoro!" He greets, waving a hand as he stood in front of the swordsman.

"Usopp," Zoro returned with a grin, "You look like you've gotten a hell of a lot stronger."

Usopp beamed with pride, "You noticed? Unsurprising. I have many great tales of my adventures since last we met!"

Usopp feels butterflies as Zoro grins at him, "I can't wait to hear them. You've been brave, then?"

Usopp grins back and nodded, "Yup. Oh, that reminds me!" He digs around in his bag and pulls out a balck folded cloth. He holds it out to Zoro, "here. I kept it safe for you." Zoro takes the cloth and unfolds it. It's his bandana. He can see a spot where it had been torn. But he can also see it had painstakingly been repaired with olive green thread. "Im sorry I ripped it. I used my bandana to fix it best I could. Do you know how hard it is sewing with a stinger? Terrible."

"You ruined your bandana?" Zoro asked.

Usopp shrugged, "Yeah, but I have a hat now. Much for fashion forward, don't you think?" Zoro stared at Usopp and laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. Usopp pouted, "Oi, oi, oi. Are you making fun of me?"

Zoro shook his head, putting his bandana in his pocket, "No. Just... good to have you back."

Usopp smiles at the swordsman, "Good to be back. I missed the Sunny. I missed the adventures. I missed our nakama. I missed... you."

For the first time, a small pink tinge found its way to Zoro's cheeks, and he hummed in agreement, "I missed you, too."

Usopp's heart raced and he said, "Well, let's head to the Sunny." Zoro had missed him. ZORO had missed HIM. Usopp didn't think he had ever felt lighter. And while he didn't know if he'd ever be ready to speak his feelings aloud, he was comforted in the fact that the exchange would continue between them for a long time to come.

#one piece #zosopp #usopp #roronoa zoro #pre-timeskip

[damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog]

Unorthodox

AO3 Link

After having spent her whole life in Victorian muggle culture, MC finds comfort in Ominis' familiar mannerisms. But Ominis and MC learn that, sometimes, it's ok to let go of decorum

Ominis x fem!Slytherin MC

SFW

A sickening amount of fluff, and things one simply does not admit to doing in polite Victorian society

Word count: 3,943

A/N: My first fanfic in like five years, oh my god. Nothing breaks my immersion in a story more than characters using language that's inappropriate for the time/place, so loosely emulating flowery 1890s writing styles while blending canon characterization was a fun challenge. I studied SO much cute Ominis fanfic for this, my heart is a mess rn.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“I’m Ominis. Ominis Gaunt.”

The light from the lake just outside the Slytherin common room windows washed over him in soft blue, dancing in his starry eyes whenever he smiled. Ominis' reassuring welcome had instantly put MC at ease after her harrowing—and somewhat embarrassing—journey to the school the night before. While others whispered and gossiped, he was among the few who extended a hand in friendship. Something about the handsome young man, with his carefully-styled blond hair, porcelain skin and soft yet self-assured voice, had sparked a most puzzling mix of fond feelings in MC from the moment they met. Part of her was utterly terrified of saying or doing anything at all in his presence, lest she make a fool of herself, but another part of her wanted desperately to draw herself as close to him as humanly possible, reach a hand up to his jawline, and...

She often quickly pushed these images aside whenever they flashed across her mind, slightly horrified that her imagination was even capable of conjuring such unbefitting thoughts for a young lady. MC was now far away from the life she had spent believing herself to be a squib living amongst muggles, and while she enjoyed the freedom that came with being a fully-fledged witch, she would not sacrifice her personal standards for one moment of weakness.

Over the course of her first few months at Hogwarts, MC had grown quite close to her Slytherin peers. While her dear friend Sebastian Sallow could be slightly overwhelming at times, between his taste for danger and his passion for leaving chaos in his wake, he was most loyal. Ominis was quieter—more inscrutable. His mannerisms reflected an upbringing similar to her own: the strict maintenance of tradition and civility. It was both familiar and charming when Ominis showed restraint in her presence. While Sebastian saw no issues with using coarse language, Ominis was often quick to reprimand him and remind him sternly of the company they were keeping when MC was near. She was deeply thankful Ominis couldn't see the rosiness on her cheeks any time he did that.

"Are you feeling all right, MC?" Ominis gently asked one evening in the Undercroft. "You've been awfully quiet. I daresay Sebastian has been making up for it, too." The trio had been hoping to escape for a short while from the din of the world above, and were presently splayed across a large, deep plush sofa that had been found some time ago amongst the other refuse in their secret room. Sebastian was perched on an armrest, reading a book he had recently bought while Ominis had been, in his typical fashion, drifting in and out of sleep in the middle of the sofa. MC, on the other end, had been trying to focus on a book of her own, and getting distracted looking at Ominis' drowsy face until he had given up on trying to sleep with the buzz of Sebastian muttering along to his reading.

Before MC could reply to Ominis' question, Sebastian looked up. "It isn't just MC, you know," he smirked. "Ever since we began studying together, the both of you have been awfully quiet. it's been like having a couple of jobberknolls around. The closer we all seem to get, the less you two appear to talk to one another. I had been meaning to ask if you two actually hated each other. Or, perhaps..."

Ominis shifted visibly as he heard a smile creep into Sebastian's voice and interrupted. "Have you not noticed my improved performance in potions since the three of us began comparing notes? I would say hating each other is the furthest thing from our minds."

Sebastian and Ominis were well on their way to one of their minor squabbles when MC piped up. "Oh, you needn't worry, Ominis." Saying his name caused an unexpected flutter in her chest, and she hesitated once again as she regained her composure. Both boys stopped their chatter and looked on at her expectantly. "I... I suppose I am rather fatigued. Perhaps I'm still recovering from our difficult potions exam the other day."

The truth was that MC was, indeed, feeling some fatigue. But the reason for that fatigue was a secret she felt she might take to her grave: she had begun waking from the most alarming dreams in the middle of the night. In these dreams, she would often find herself standing in the center of an extravagant garden on a warm summer's night, a gentle breeze rippling through an airy dress of her own imagining. Ominis would approach her from beyond the flowering hedges, wearing that handsome vest over a button-down shirt and neatly pressed trousers that made her so weak-kneed in her waking life. With a gentle affect, his half-lidded eyes would stare through her with an almost hypnotic effect. He would take her up in his arms, gently wrapping them around her from behind, as if they were performing a slow, elaborate dance whose steps only they knew. "Oh, how I've longed for this," he would purr in her ear, his melodic voice thick with desire. Ominis' cool, slender fingers would gently find purchase on her arms as his lips would drag across her neck, each warm breath against her skin softer than the last. Her skin would feel electrified, and every shift he made to be as close to her as possible sent sparks throughout her core. She would murmur sweet nothings to him and listen to his hums in response, both of them too absorbed in one another to hold a real conversation. The tickle of his soft hair against her face as he would slowly dot her shoulder and collarbone with kisses felt so real. The crescendo always came when he would slowly circle around to face her, trace a hand up her neck to lift her chin with a single finger, and let his lips find hers. It would be a deep, slow kiss with the love and tenderness of an entire lifetime; an unspoken promise that he was hers, and that they would never be too far apart.

MC would wake from these dreams out of breath and completely mortified. Admitting to herself that she was actually looking forward to her next dream with him was completely out of the question.

"Ugh, she's doing it again—do you see this? Well, obviously you can't literally see it, but this is what I'm talking about." Sebastian's exasperated voice cut through MC's rumination, and she started. Looking over, she caught Sebastian with a furrowed brow and Ominis looking worried.

"Perhaps I should escort you to the dormitories," Ominis said as he stood and extended a hand to MC. "It seems you might need some rest."

"Is MC not perfectly capable of going back herself if she so desires?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow at Ominis, a smile once again creeping into his voice.

Ominis turned to glare at Sebastian. "I don't fault you for it, Sebastian, but our dear friend MC is accustomed to a level of chivalry with which you are quite unfamiliar."

"You mean all that nonsense your family trained you to worry about? The reason you beat me over the head every time I say something less than perfect when she's around? What makes her so different?"

"There is more to it than mere nonsense, Sebastian," Ominis huffed. "Correct me if I have misremembered anything, MC, but until you arrived at our school, you had been living amongst muggles whose entire culture revolves around adherence to these same manners. If I can ease what is undoubtedly a difficult transition into our world with some familiarity and kindness, I would be more than pleased to do just that for you." He stood patiently, hand still extended to MC, a soft smile forming on his lips.

MC, feeling rather embarrassed to have this tiff be about her while she remained completely silent, reached out to take Ominis' hand. It was warm, and his grip as he helped her up was gentle. Just as he was about to let go, he gave her hand a small, almost imperceptible squeeze, and she blushed a deep crimson. "Thank you, Ominis," she finally croaked out. "You are correct about my background, unfortunately. But yes, perhaps some rest would do me a bit of good."

Sebastian looked between the two with a smirk and snapped his book shut, startling them. "Well, I believe I've seen all I need to see." Ominis was about to give a defensive retort when Sebastian stood up and stretched. "I'm going to find something to eat. You two stay out of trouble." He looked pointedly from MC to Ominis, then back at MC with a wink and a knowing smile. MC felt the heat rise in her face once again.

"I have to thank you—I really do appreciate your efforts," MC shyly commented as the pair made their way to the common room, her hand around Ominis' arm as he escorted her. "I am very thankful to have someone like you, you know.”

"Of course, MC. It's the least I can do. And I hope you don't mind Sebastian. He means well, of course, he simply has very little contact with a world like that." Half a moment passed before he finished, his face turning a shade pinker. "I'm... also quite happy that you're here. It has been a while since I've had any real use for formalities, but I am quite glad they set you at ease."

MC inhaled, her grip on his arm tightening ever so slightly. "I had been wondering about how you came to know all this etiquette. Nearly everyone else here who knows of it is muggleborn."

Ominis' affect seemed to darken ever so slightly. He hesitated, deciding if he wanted to explain the truth or make up a short excuse. He decided on the former. "As you know, my family takes great pride in being Salazar Slytherin's descendants. Unfortunately, the family fortune has dwindled to nearly nothing over the years. Ironically, they decided to take a page from the muggles' book, and my family has become quite focused on ensuring they still speak and act as if they can afford the lifestyle of which they now only dream. I fear I may be among the last of Slytherin's descendants to even have the ability to attend his school."

MC had known of the Gaunts' reputation long before she ever received her letter to Hogwarts, but she had never heard about this side of the family. She gazed up at Ominis, whose face was now clouded with bitterness. "I'm so sorry, Ominis," she quietly said as she pressed herself to him. "I had no idea."

Hearing her voice seemed to bring Ominis back to the present moment, and he brightened up as he turned his head towards her. His eyes were still doleful as he smiled weakly. "Oh, please don't let my family trouble you. Their problems are their own—even I try not to think of them."

The pair remained quiet for a few moments as MC's mind flew, trying to think of a way to cheer up Ominis. In a moment she wasn't sure was bravery or stupidity, MC gently tugged at Ominis' arm and they came to a stop. "I... actually have something I want to show you before we get to the common room."

After a long series of winding hallways and stairs, the pair came to a blank wall in the astronomy tower. Ominis had barely opened his mouth to protest the seemingly pointless detour when the Room of Requirement's doors materialized before them. He gave a confused frown as the wall before his wand metamorphosed into a door.

"I suppose," MC began as she pushed the door open and beckoned Ominis to follow, "you might consider this my own Undercroft."

On the other side lay a cool, quiet room, filled to the brim with furniture and decorations of all sizes and shapes. The room was dark and glowed a faint Slytherin green against luxurious hardwoods and white upholstery.

"And no one else knows of this place? How did you even find this? I thought only my family knew of such secrets." Ominis continued to sweep his wand back and forth, absorbing as many details as he could.

"Professor Weasley introduced me, actually, although she never comes here now that she's passed it to me. There is a house elf who insists on keeping the place tidy for me. His name is Deek. Perhaps you will meet him someday. For tonight, however, he is out with other errands for the school and doesn't expect to return until morning." Ominis' face betrayed heightened interest after hearing this, and MC was comforted knowing she had made the right choice.

MC gave Ominis a short tour as he took in a towering statue of thestrals in the middle of the room and slowly walked around a myriad of trinkets that filled every nook and cranny. She gently encouraged him to step through the doors of her first vivarium, and she couldn't help but smile at his confusion that turned to awe as she explained the space and introduced Ominis to the beasts that resided therein. A unicorn took a particular shining to Ominis, and MC watched the two bond. Both were tentative of each other at first, but their hesitations thawed until she was sure Ominis was the first Gaunt in history to earn the friendship of a unicorn.

"Why me?" Ominis finally asked as they returned and sat on a divan in the lower level of the Room to rest. He set down his wand to focus on MC’s voice and the scent of books and ink carried on the air. "Why show all of this to me?"

MC took a deep breath. "Well, it is certainly most unusual, but since you trust me with the Undercroft, I wanted to trust you with this. You may come in here any time you like. I insist."

"I don't know what to say, MC, except thank you," Ominis said softly. He held a hand to his chest, reeling at the gesture. His skin once again started turning a deeper shade, and MC couldn't help but feel proud of causing it. The pale lights around them made him look nearly ethereal, and she couldn’t get enough. She knew it was rude to stare, even if he might not be able to tell, but couldn’t help herself. He was so irresistibly beautiful to her in this moment.

"I also wanted to share this place with someone special to me," MC added quietly. "At the risk of being untoward, I have wanted to be alone with you for a while now." Ominis froze at the words, and for one dreadful moment MC worried she had spoken out of turn.

"I... thank you. I don't believe you to be untoward at all," Ominis said almost breathlessly. He felt around for MC's hand resting on the divan between them, his fingers hesitantly snaking in between hers. Both of them drank in the new energy that all but buzzed around them, MC gazing into Ominis' eyes while he appeared to focus on their interlocking hands. Ominis was the first to finally speak.

"I'll be frank. I have no idea how to proceed while continuing to use proper manners. I don't know if anyone ever accounted for a situation quite like this," he said with a small laugh. "So, I shall simply come out with it: MC, may I kiss you?"

MC's breath hitched, and her chest and throat felt electrified. “I thought you’d never ask,” she managed to whisper.

Ominis gave a relieved smile and shifted even closer. He reached out a hand to guide him, which MC gently grasped, and she guided it to the side of her face. His thumb slowly swept across her face and stopped at her lips. He brought his lips to hers and pressed tenderly. MC’s eyes fluttered shut. She marveled at both the softness of his lips and how cautiously he shifted, as if any sudden movement might scare her away like a deer.

Finally, MC broke the kiss and held a hand to the side of his face to match him. Ominis leaned into it and a sigh escaped his lips, his brow furrowing slightly as his senses returned. "I don't know what came over me. This is very untoward, and I am sorry."

MC giggled. "You needn’t be sorry. I think you're very sweet. And... while it is quite nice to know someone who also understands etiquette, perhaps we ought to make an exception to the rules sometimes."

Ominis contemplated this for a moment, heartened at her encouragement. Apparently making up his mind, he leaned in to kiss her again—slower and deeper this time. She ran her hand from his face, up the back of his neck and through his hair, vaguely aware of his shoulders slackening as he melted under her touch and sighed against her lips. He set his free hand on her upper arm and let his thumb draw vague, soothing shapes. The two eventually broke for air, their foreheads touching as they caught their breath. But Ominis was not yet satisfied. After a short moment, he kissed her again. Starting at the corner of her mouth, he trailed small kisses across her cheek and down her neck. He smiled mischievously as he heard MC gasp with delight. Her skin was so soft and sweet in a way he could have never imagined. He continued kissing until he found a spot that made her shudder, and he gently sucked at the skin. He felt her grip on his hair tighten and a quiet moan escape her lips, pushing him to keep going.

MC made a needy whimper when he finally pulled away. "I can't spoil all the fun for next time, now can I, my little hummingbird?" Ominis murmured. MC’s heart leapt at the delicious notion of a next time.

Ominis unclasped his cloak to throw over the back of the divan before reaching one arm behind him to steady himself. He wrapped his other arm around MC and slowly leaned back until he had laid down with MC on his chest. Finally, he took his cloak from the divan, draped it over MC as a makeshift blanket that covered her up to her chin and wrapped both arms around her before sighing blissfully. "I am very glad you brought me here, MC. There is always a thrill in doing that of which others might disapprove, but there is something more to this as well,” Ominis mused.

MC could only sigh happily in response, fatigue slowly taking hold now that her nerves had been conquered and she lay in Ominis' arms. His cloak smelled like him, including a subtle, woody cologne that she had never noticed until that evening. Reality surpassed any dream she had ever had about him. His heart was still thundering in his chest and his breathing seemed quickened, but it comforted her nonetheless. Everything in that moment was blissfully perfect: the warmth radiating from his chest and his arms surrounding her in a loving embrace, the sound of him breathing as though he might never properly catch his breath, the cologne that was now also rubbed into her own clothes, and the taste of his lips that lingered on hers.

Ominis ran a hand slowly along her back in thought. "I have never felt this way, yet it is all so natural. I want to stay like this forever," he breathed. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you.”

MC perked up at this and lifted her head in interest. “Oh? I was not even aware you felt like this until today.”

Ominis gently laid a hand on her head to encourage her to settle again as he chuckled. “I suppose that is fair. I don’t even know when it started exactly. A brush of the arm here, a funny joke there... I tried to ignore it in the beginning, but every time I could hear your voice approaching, my heart would leap into my throat. I was quite sure I was going mad. You can cast quite the jinx without ever lifting your wand, little hummingbird.” He stopped to smile and run a hand over MC’s hair. “Still, I am quite shocked Sebastian either never connected what was going on, or had the rare sense to hold his tongue."

“Well,” MC began, trying to hold back her smile, “as we all left the Undercroft this evening, Sebastian did give the two of us a rather suggestive look.”

Ominis sighed sharply. “Of course he would. I have half a mind to tell him off for that… but what good would it even do? I am certain he will have plenty of opportunities to tease us after this.”

“After this?” MC asked with some vague alarm.

“Oh, don’t worry yourself, I would not tell even Sebastian about everything here tonight. But he will certainly take interest in the fact that I’ll be close to you and holding your hand in mine every opportunity I can get.” Ominis could feel the smile stretching across the side of MC’s face that pressed into his chest. “For now, however, perhaps you should get some of the rest you so desperately need. I could stand to take that nap I had wanted in the Undercroft. I’ll take you back to the dormitory when we’re ready.”

“Mmh,” MC protested quietly and buried her face in his cloak. “What if I’m never ready? It’s probably rather late already. We could just stay here until morning.”

Her reaction provoked another smile and quiet laughter from Ominis as his hand slipped down to lightly massage the back of her neck. “I am quite sure someone will be missing us, even if it’s just Sebastian.”

“And I would be up all night missing you,” MC grumbled. She wondered how she could ever possibly sleep without his calming presence after this.

“Then we will simply have to do the same thing tomorrow, won’t we? You can at least hold onto my cloak for the night. I see you're already quite attached.” Ominis took one of her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. MC groaned, begrudgingly accepting her fate. “Good girl,” he sighed drowsily.

MC could hear his breath drawing slower as he almost instantly surrendered to sleep. She supposed there would be time tomorrow to come up with a tactful explanation for Sebastian as to why Ominis returned to his bed late and without a cloak, and devise a method for covering the love mark he left on her neck that was inevitably going to bloom some lurid shade of red and black. She touched a finger to the spot and smiled to herself, still astounded he was so affected by her as to do that. It was, quite literally, a dream come true.

Fatigue tugged at her mind once more, and MC finally gave in, surrounded by Ominis’ protective arms and the tranquility of the Room of Requirement, his cloak warding off the nighttime chill. Their conduct had been quite unorthodox compared to the way they had been brought up to behave. But Ominis was right—there was a thrill to it, and she felt a connection to him in a way she had never known. In the deepest, most secret part of her heart, she hoped that every evening would be like this for the rest of her life.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc #ominis x oc #fem!Slytherin MC #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt fluff #is that enough tags?? I hope so 😬 #Isabel Greymoore

[holly-fixation]

Jenova is such an interesting creature/concept and is absolutely the reason this is the series I write fanfiction for. I have plenty of other games I've played for much longer yet the combination of Sephiroth, Jenova, the Cetra, and the Lifestream always keep me coming back.

So, for fun, here's the way I break down Jenova in my own work. Or what I like to call "the Jenova Mindset".

What is a mindset? I have yet to meet a single writer that doesn't immediately know what a "mindset" is even if they don't use the word. It's really the head space you need to be in to write a certain character. How they think, how they react, what their motivations are, what they want to do next vs what they need to do next, etc. I still find myself changing certain ways of thinking to fit characters more and more, even if I've basically solidified what they are.

Jenova is an interesting case for me.

I always stuck to rules for "Her", even when I first started. Jenova is the Calamity, the virus, the doppleganger, the first meteor. But Sephiroth did willingly go to her, so there must be some kind of draw, some pull. This draw is governed by the internal pull of Reunion and by "Her voice". But Jenova is an alien creature that consumes the life forces of planets. She doesn't sound like anything we would know or recognize or even understand. Not once do I describe Her voice with gender or pitch. Perceived emotions, intentions, dizzying feelings, and descriptions that do not exist for voices, that's what She would be. "Cosmic, astral, celestial, galactic, gravitational". I can go on all day.

Do I think She can speak in the games? Do I think she spoke to Sephiroth at Nibelhiem? I have no idea. I just like playing with potential draws of what She could say.

Now that She has a voice, what does she say? This is extremely difficult for me because every word must draw you in, give this feeling of concern and false care in your chest when you read. As a writer, this really difficult to pull off, but I try. How?

She is always kind to Sephiroth. Always. Ignoring whatever will happen when Evercrisis drops, we can easily assume he had a terrible childhood and a standoffish adulthood. Sephiroth is weird and sheltered and doesn't have a lot of common ground for normal conversation. He grew up in a cruel environment most likely controlled by Doctor Hojo. With a few words, she needs to make him feel accepted and cared for. She copies this perceived kindness from Gillian, Angeal's mother who canonically had Jenova cells implanted in her before his birth. She will only coax Sephiroth, she will never push. Drilling the same phrase into Sephiroth's mind is risky and is only used when there is no other option. If he is too far from Her or too distracted by his not-yet-completely-tragic life, small messages like 'come to me' or small feelings in dreams are Her best chance. Usually Her words spark Sephiroth's childhood desire for a mother, warm and comforting and uncomfortably safe. She speaks with a kindness he is not used to until he calls her 'Mother'. Only once he gives Her that title and unknowingly that power does She call him 'my son'. She fills that hunger within him with or without his title from then on.

Next, as you've probably already noticed, She should not feel normal. She should not seem the same as the other characters throughout the world, thus "She" and "Her" are always capitalized to give that subconscious feeling of Jenova having a greater presence in any situation. To aid in this, Her words are at minimum bolded. Maximum they are italicized and bolded, but this is usually reserved for telepathy. She does not speak in full capital letters. She does not lose her Temper, not anymore, not after failing to the Cetra. That's what Sephiroth's for. All she needs to do is point him in the correct direction. He is Her weapon. She is his support. They share one goal. She may be at Sephiroth's side, but by then he is already carrying out her legacy.

Lastly, (and silly me, I almost forgot), She will never lose. I make jokes about being "The Queen of the Nibelhiem Incident" because even when I'm given a scenario or set of steps where Sephiroth choses not to join her that makes perfect sense, I subconsciously take it apart, I analyze each detail before his decision is made, and I change the outcome back to its fiery course. Jenova will always be at Sephiroth's side and they will claim the planet. End of story. That's their goal. I've literally asked other writers for permission to make new endings for their own stories just because these plans never leave my head, and for SOME reason even the HAPPIEST, FLUFFIEST, NO FIRE ALLOWED writers say yes. Not every one of my fics ends or will end in flames, but there's a constant struggle between Her power and the will of the protagonists that I must keep in check. Though this isn't directly related to The Jenova Mindset, it's what constantly drives Her. She is a virus. She is a survivor. She is persistent. She is patient. She waited two thousand years to complete her goal and get revenge on the Cetra. She will use the last of Her control to use the son humanity gave Her.

I will never lose. I will never leave. Time is a precious resource. Use it well. Recover, build, control your puppets.

Claim what is rightfully ours when you're ready. Be patient. Be calm. Our time will come. Rest for now. Regain your strength.

That's what the Jenova Mindset is.

#jenova #jenova breakdown #fanfiction #writing #jenova mindset #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #go to bed Holly #yelling into the void #this was a lot longer than I expected ngl #sephiroth

[mika-writes-fanfics]

Healing Touch

Dabi x Fem!Reader fan fiction

Synopsis: You encounter an injured Shigaraki and offer your healing quirk to his aid. Little did you know, healers were hard to come by in the underground and Shigaraki takes a liking to your skills. To further his cause, he kidnaps you and holds you captive under the watch of the LOV. You play the role of the LOV's little healer while you think of a way to escape. Unbeknownst to you, the pyromaniac with a cold heart begins to melt in your presence. Your compassion and wit draw him in, all the while he swears it's only curiosity he feels toward you. But when your touch heals his burns and your personality soothes his anguish, Dabi begins to wonder, what exactly is he feeling for you? And why the hell does he feel so torn up when you slip away?

Warnings/Tags: canon-typical violence, kidnapping, threats, mention of blood, Stockholm syndrome, eventual smut, kidnapping, female/afab reader, healing quirk

Author's Note: This is a reworking of my old fic, "Healing Hands". I've changed some stuff around, gotten rid of unnecessary paragraphs/sentences, and made the pacing faster. I felt like my last one dragged on for too long and I kept getting stuck. It also didn't help that I wrote most of it while high but I'm not gonna make that mistake again lol. I hope you enjoy the new version.

Abbreviation Guide: Y/N (your name), E/C (eye color), F/C (favorite color)

Word Count: 3K

Chapter One: Imprisoned

“Tomura, I do hope you intend to inform us what the emergency is,” Mr.Compress says to Tomura. There’s annoyance in his voice, thinly veiled by his usual aura of elegance and typical polite tone. 

“Yeah, this better be important. What gives? Didya really need to have Kurogiri warp us here without notice?” Dabi agrees and further criticizes Tomura. 

“Don’t question my judgment, this is extremely important,” Tomura defends.  “We have a new member.” The league members’ faces seem deadpanned, bored and unbelieving. There was no one new in sight. 

“You hallucinating or something? I don’t see a newbie,” Dabi contests with sarcasm. Toga giggles at Dabi’s statement of the obvious. “This better not be a chick with an invisible quirk.” A loud, exasperated sigh escapes Tomura’s lips and scratches at his neck in palpable irritation. 

“You idiots, she’s not here yet. It’ll be any minute now so listen up. She’s not a willing addition, but her quirk will be useful to us. We’ll need to keep an eye on her to prevent her from escaping,” Tomura explains, still somewhat agitated. Toga squeals in excitement as some of the other members converse with one another in whispers. 

“I’m so happy! Another girl is joining? This is gonna be so much fun, we could be like sisters!” Toga squeals and gushes with excitement. She blushes at the next thought of the new female addition. “Maybe she’ll even let me drink her blood!”

“Hold up, how’s she supposed to be useful to us if she doesn’t even follow our mission? Couldn’t she just use her quirk against us?” Dabi opposes. 

“Impossible. She has a healing quirk, there’s no way she could overpower us. Besides, we have too much offense, every party needs a support class,” Tomura counters.  “Healers are hard to come by and we need her cooperation,” Tomura adds. He glares at Toga and addresses his following words to her. “So no stabbing and bloodsucking, Toga. I’ll dust you before I warn you again.” 

A warp portal appears in the room, suddenly. Everyone in the room tenses in alert and anticipation. Kurogiri partially steps through, with one of his arms still in the haze. The nomu continues to step through, pulling out a very terrified you from the mist. You attempt to thrash and bolt, but after a few well-placed portals, Kurogiri has you restrained by the wrists with his own hands. 

Your eyes are wide and darting everywhere around you. Your panic is on display for a bunch of strange people, who you can only assume are villains. You had just started your (study abroad program/work transfer) in Japan. You were only in Japan for a couple of weeks, not even familiar with your route to (campus/work). How were you supposed to know what parts of the city were dangerous? How could you have known what the local villains looked like? Your ignorance and vulnerability are what led you to these circumstances. An ill-fated encounter with a wounded Tomura led your good intentions to be taken advantage of. You just wanted to help someone who could have been close to death. Your conscience would have haunted your thoughts if you ignored him, especially when you had the power to help. How could you have known he was a villain looking for a full-time healer? If only your quirk had blessed you with a stronger constitution and strength, for all it took to kidnap you was a hard blow to the head. A phone call to Kurogiri made it easy for you to disappear without a trace. You were stacked up against impossible odds. Luck was never on your side.

“Speak, tell them your name,” Tomura commands you. 

Despite your precarious situation, you can’t help but let your emotions show. You furrow your brows and the corner of your mouth twitches. “I’m not your fucking dog, stop commanding me like one,” you spit with malice. Your e/c eyes narrow in contempt. 

Tomura’s head whips around and he turns to face you. You suppress a shiver when his angry red eyes peer at you through Father’s hand. Time seems to slow as his steps close in on you. He roughly grabs your chin with four fingers, his pinky hovering close to your skin. Your face is pulled closer to his, making it easier to see his glare. “When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed. Do I need to remind you what my hands can do? Now tell them your name.”

Not wanting to piss him off further, you wager your best interest entails complying with his demand. You clench your jaw. You had to swallow your pride, the situation called for it. “Y/n. My name is y/n,” You respond, voice filled with bitterness. Tomura loosens his grip on your jaw, mumbling something about wanting to ‘fix your attitude’. He instructs Kurogiri to unhand you and the two of them give you some space. 

“Y/n is pretty! We’re going to be best friends!” Toga exclaims and jumps off the barstool, approaching you. You give her a confused look at Toga’s giddy and friendly demeanor. Toga throws herself at you to embrace you in a hug, a gesture that borders on insanity given how the two of you barely know one another. Your apprehension and stiffness go unnoticed by the blonde. 

“Um, thanks?” you reply with reluctance. Worryingly, the teen is much stronger than she appears. 

“Since we’re friends and all, can I have some of your blood? I think people look even prettier when they’re covered in blood,” She gushes. Your expression can only be described as that of dawning horror. You’re beginning to realize how a girl like her ended up in such a crowd. 

“Miss Toga, I understand you have an affinity for blood but please keep in mind what Tomura said,” a masked man wearing a trench coat remarks. The man lazily swirls marbles in a gloved hand. His demeanor and speech are quite eloquent and formal, standing out from the rest of the group. You note that perhaps he could be reasoned with. After all, he’s almost defending you against the teen’s apparent blood lust.

“Ugh, that’s so boring!” Toga whines. Tomura shoots her a warning glare from behind his mask, or rather his hand. She releases you from her embrace, sighing loudly. She spins on her heels and grabs your hand. Her tone sounds a bit dejected when she speaks again. “I guess since we can’t do that, I’ll introduce you to everybody.” She parades you around the room, introducing you to everyone. You already knew of Tomura and Kurogiri of course, so no introduction is needed there. The process is awkward at the very least, but the other members don’t seem to care much. There’s not exactly a social script for meeting your captors.  

You learn the esteemed man in the white mask goes by Mr.Compress, or just Compress for short. It seemed like a strange name initially until Toga explained his quirk involves compressing and reducing anything he desires into small marbles. You shudder to think of what it would feel like to be trapped in such a way. The next introduction is for a man in a black and white body suit. His suit covers his face as well. The man’s name is Twice and he makes clones of people. His behavior is quite erratic, as he’ll often say one thing and immediately follow with a statement saying the opposite. You’ve been shuffled around the room and learned the names of almost everybody except for one other person. Toga pushes you in the direction of a man adorned with many piercings and staples. 

“And this is Dabi! He’s got a fire quirk,” Toga introduces. You take in his features quickly, not wanting to stare too much but wanting to pair his face with a name. There’s a lot about him that sticks out to you. There are large swaths of deep scars on his arms, neck, and face. The seams between the scars and healthy skin are joined together with silver staples. Even the scars beneath his eyes are littered with staples. But apart from his scars and piercings, his gaze is piercing. He has eyes that seem to see right through you, scrutinizing you with his cobalt blue irises. 

“Y/n, was it?” He asks. His voice catches you off guard, as this is the first time you’ve heard him speak. It’s deep and smoky. In different circumstances, it’d make you weak in the knees. 

“Y-yeah,” you confirm. Your voice sounds meek when you speak. He merely hums in acknowledgment and doesn’t question you further. Though, with the way his eyes still follow you and the way his brows are slightly pinched together, you wager there’s something he still wants to ask you. 

“Toga, Twice, you two show her to her room. It’s the last room off the hall,” Tomura instructs, shooing the two of them off with a gesture.

“You got it, boss!” Twice agrees, enthusiastically. His tone and voice rapidly shift to a more whiny and annoyed attitude, “No! Why me?” 

Toga agrees without refusal, unlike Twice. Though, despite Twice’s uttered resistance, he complies with Tomura’s request regardless. You think that Twice’s mannerisms will take some getting used to. Maybe eventually his switches won’t be as jarring. As the two of them are about to lead you up the stairs, Kurogiri interjects. 

“Miss y/n, we found your residence. We went ahead and gathered most of your belongings, excluding devices of course,” Kurogiri informs you. 

You blink once, then twice. You can’t help but think, ‘Excuse me, but what the fuck?’

“Wow, you broke into my house, looked through my things, and took my stuff? Thanks, how considerate of you,” you sarcastically remark. 

“It’s no problem, y/n,” Kurogiri accepts. You think he surely cannot be serious, but nothing in his mannerisms or tone of voice makes you believe so. This guy has seemingly no sense of your sarcasm. He’s almost robotic in that sense. Toga, once again, grabs your hand and leads you around. The three of you climb up the stairs and walk down the hallway without further incidents. 

“This is yours!” Toga announces. She swings the door open and invites herself in. You begrudgingly cross the threshold as well with Twice coming in behind you. 

Boxes of your things are stacked, rather neatly, in the corner of the room. They’re all categorized and labeled. Evidently, Kurogiri is efficient and meticulous with details. You walk over and open the box labeled clothes. Sure enough, you see your clothes, neatly folded in the cardboard. Kurogiri was not exaggerating when he said they gathered most of your things. The thought simultaneously scares and humiliates you. For them to figure out your address and take your thing raises three concerns. One, Tomura and Kurogiri could access information that you did not carry on your person. Two, now that your apartment is now empty, it could appear to the authorities that you ran away without notice. Lastly, and arguably a much smaller concern in comparison, is that you can’t remember if you had brought anything embarrassing with you from home. 

“I’ll help you unpack!” Twice offers, before immediately countering himself. “No way, that’s too much work.” 

Before he’s able to open a box, you interrupt quickly. You shout, “No!” Your outburst catches him off guard. He freezes in his tracks. You realize your reaction might seem odd, so you try to salvage the situation to the best of your ability. “Please, let me do it. Organizing stuff calms me down. Today’s been a lot for me.” Truthfully, it’s not exactly why you’d like Twice and Toga to leave you be, but the lie is plausible enough to be believable. 

Toga taps a finger to her cheek, thinking over it. “Well I guess Tomura didn’t order us to move you in, so it should be fine. Unpacking stuff sounds really boring anyways,” She admits. You feel your shoulders relax a bit. The two of them walk to your door before Toga stops in the doorway. There’s a more threatening aura about her when she adds, “I’d hate to have to chase you down and get yelled at by Tomura, so don’t try anything. Twice and I will be down the hall, okay?” She looks at you, either gauging your reaction or waiting for you to confirm. You decide to just nod and mutter out an ‘okay’, to which she gives you her signature manic smile and resumes her usual happy-go-lucky demeanor. 

The two of them finally leave your room. You listen to their footsteps travel down the hall before fading out. The breath you didn’t realize you were holding releases. You’re finally alone. You take a moment for yourself, sitting on the creaky bed frame and mattress. You look around the room, trying to take note of everything. You’ve been provided with a bed, desk, and dresser. The walls are plain. The room is windowless. When you stop to think of it, you can’t remember seeing any windows in the other parts of the building so far either. Not to mention, you noticed that this particular hallway was a dead end. These four walls already feel suffocating to you. It’s a perfect prison, and it’s filled with wardens. 

As hopeless as your situation feels right now, you can’t afford to wallow in it. You decide to busy yourself instead of spiraling into despair. There are stacks of boxes filled with your things, after all. You’ll be kept busy and away from your thoughts for at least a while. Your situation sucks, but you’re thankful you have the comfort of having your things. Surrounding yourself with familiarity might help you. 

You’re in the process of unpacking your third box when you hear the sound of heavy boots coming toward your room. The door is still ajar from when Toga and Twice left, so you’re able to see who it is. You’re a bit surprised to see Dabi, considering he didn’t say much to you initially. He leans leisurely against your door frame. Clearly, he’s in no hurry to do much. You’re not sure why, but his staring makes you squirm.

“You guys should invest in a surveillance system, isn’t hovering around me boring?” you say, breaking the silence. Your attitude must have been amusing to him, as he gives a light chuckle at you. Just like his voice, his laugh is a bit naturally husky. 

“Not when you act so feisty, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone bite back at Tomura like that,” he snickers. “It’d be a shame for him to break that attitude.”

“Is there something you need from me? Besides entertainment?” You quip. 

“Your quirk, how does it work?” He questions. He straightens his posture, no longer leaning on the doorway. His expression is more serious. If you squint, you think there’s a hint of curiosity in his gaze.  

You think it’s best to just show him. You activate your quirk, focusing it on one part of your body. Your hands glow a f/c hue and begin feeling cold to the touch. “I create a layer of stem cells on my skin. It’s at the expense of my metabolic energy and makes me freeze, so overuse can be dangerous,” You explain. You shut off your quirk and glance at your hands. Your fingers feel a bit stiff. 

“So what can you heal?”

“It’s easier to explain what I can’t heal.”

“Go on,” he says and motions. He seems to be intrigued. 

“Anything that’s already been healed by the body, like scars or old injuries, won’t react to my quirk. Neither will infections or autoimmune diseases. I can’t regrow lost limbs either, unless the original arm is still mostly intact and… um… ‘fresh’. As a whole, I work best with more surface-level injuries than deep, internal ones.” 

“You seem to know a lot about this. You some sort of doctor or nurse?”

“Tried to be at one point. I know people with healing quirks are expected to be surgeons, doctors, or nurses, but I don’t want to be defined by just my quirk.”

“Would your quirk work on me?”

“It should. I could try and see,” you offer. He nods, permitting you to touch him. You’re about to ask him where you should heal him, but he offers his hands, palms facing you. You stand up from your place on the floor and walk over to him. His appearance starts to make sense to you when you inspect his hands. Dabi’s wrists and parts of his palms are slightly burned. The scarring must be a mixture of burn scars and grafts. Does his own fire hurt him?

Not wanting to scrutinize him any further with your staring, you clasp your hands around one of his. His hands are much larger than yours. The familiar f/c glow emanates from your hands, along with your quirk’s characteristic cooling effect. Meanwhile, Dabi’s hands are incredibly warm to the touch, a stark juxtaposition from yours. Even his metal staples, which you’d expect to feel cold, are warmed to a comfortable temperature. 

“You weren’t kidding, your hands are like ice,” he comments. Aside from the coldness, he feels the rawness from the burns slowly subsiding. The seam between his healthy and grafted skin even seems to close over. 

“Small price for you to pay for good results,” you muse. You release his hands from your grasp and inspect your work. His skin appears to have healed over, taking on the same pale shade as his other healthy skin. He retracts his hand from you and sees for himself. There’s just a hint of relief and awe in his eyes as he flexes his fingers, noticing the difference. 

“Heh, not bad,” he admits. “Sorry to disappoint, but your ice hands don’t bother me. In case you haven’t noticed, I run hot.” He glances at his hand one more time before nonchalantly shoving both hands in his pockets. He turns on his heels but doesn’t leave yet.

 “See ya around,” he adds. He strolls away, leaving you to recollect yourself and unpack everything. 

Masterlist

Link to AO3

#dabi reader #dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi fanfic #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha healing quirk #healer reader #healer y/n #tw: threats #tw: kidnapping #tw: blood #bnha reader insert #reader insert #long reads

[iamsuperbi]

My “The Quarry” HCs (2/9)

Dylan Lenivy

- He is gay. Absolutely NO attraction to women.

- He/him, transmasc.

- He has ADHD and probably undiagnosed autism.

- He has anxiety.

- He is either an only child to rich, workaholic parents or the oldest of several little sisters with not a lot of money. I can’t choose.

- His social media only features pictures of his friends and his cat, he never posts about himself

- After losing his hand, he gets a hook just to make Kaitlyn laugh. She laughs til she cries.

- Everyone assumes that he’s never dated anyone before Ryan, but he was actually a total player as a teen. He’s very proud of it.

- He likes to wear dresses and skirts sometimes! Emma does his makeup sometimes if he asks.

- He used to have really long hair but cut it all off to donate it.

- Is really into self-care and hygiene and doesn’t care when other men mock him for it. Gets the rest of the guys into routines after seeing almost all of them wash their faces with shampoo.

- Plays guitar!

- He was left-handed. Has to learn how to use his right hand after that night.

- Really close to his mom and barely knows his dad despite living together.

- So passionate about quantum physics that he can talk about it for hours, but he’s too worried that people will call him annoying and to shut up.

- He wears glasses most of the time, but at camp he swapped to contacts so he wouldn’t be made fun of.

- Used to be really insecure of his height as a teenager but now he loves to use everyone else’s heads as a resting place.

- He lets Sarah paint his nails every time she asks even if she already did the day before. He can’t say no to her.

- Bribes Sarah to tell Ryan that she loves Dylan more than him. She does and then immediately fesses up. Ryan finds it adorable.

- Kaitlyn makes him go to self-defense classes with her and he actually gets really good at it.

- Has a phobia of dogs post-canon.

- He gets panic attacks often, and always goes to reread the group chat to calm himself down.

- He and Nick are really close, to the point where the others once assumed that they liked each other. It’s an inside joke, now.

- His group chat name is ‘hooky mchook face’ and only Kaitlyn finds it funny. He refuses to change it.

- Really good at braiding hair. Like so good that Emma is jealous.

- Always offers to be a reference for Abi when she struggles with certain poses while drawing. If she accepts, he’s willing to sit for hours for her.

- Cries really easily for anything, but especially when people raise their voice at him.

- Doesn’t understand why Jacob wants to hang out with him all the time but likes that Jacob doesn’t judge him for anything.

- Gets several different prosthetics for his hand, all various stupid shapes.

- Has a fun sock collection, all different colors and patterns

- He is scared of Ryan sometimes after he cut off his hand and is so ashamed by it. Ryan notices and always tells him he shouldn’t be guilty for it.

- Has Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria

- A horrible driver. Like so bad that he is banned from driving during group road-trips.

- If he was bitten and didn’t lose his hand, Dylan makes dog puns 24/7.

- He is codependent with Kaitlyn. Everyone is aware of it. The others try to help when they have bad days without each other.

- Had a septum piercing for like a week before deciding he hated it. Wanted one again about a month later but Ryan told him no.

- He’s really good at singing but shy about it

- Avid collector of scented hand-sanitizer.

- Likes when people play with his hair. Often lays his head in people’s laps if he’s comfortable with them.

- He and Max get along incredibly well and play pranks on the others together, much to the chagrin to Ryan and Laura.

- Is, surprisingly, a morning person.

- One of, if not THE most clumsy person alive

- Listens to every episode of Bizarre Yet Bonafide despite not liking podcasts just because he knows that Ryan enjoys it. He and Ryan will then talk about the most recent episode for hours.

- Has an orange cat named Schrödinger. He’s an asshole and only likes Dylan.

#the quarry #dylan lenivy #dylan the quarry #radioheads #the quarry rylan #the quarry headcanons

[starleska]

which song would the fandom choose to make vids with you and your f/o? 👀

the absolutely lovely @jennajaeger tagged me in this very fun ask game 💖 as someone who loves to make silly OCs to ship with my f/os, i thought i’d tweak it in an OC x Canon direction!! 🥰 

i tag @iriso-page, @heavensong, @venuss-ambassador, @femaleganondorfdragmire and @mollicutes - but everyone is invited to do this if they’d like to! 💖

Augustus St. Cloud x Quint S. Henchall - Partners in Crime by Set It Off

ah, is there a romance more palpable than that between an utter joke of a villain, and his seasoned, bloodthirsty henchperson? 👀 Partners in Crime is a great choice for these two, and for any V Bros selfshipper with a villainous fave!! i always saw Quint and Augustus developing a very ‘Jesse and James from Team Rocket’ kind of relationship: outwardly obnoxious and bullying (you can’t fix personalities like that 🙈) yet fiercely protective. it’s by no means an easy bond - after all, within 24 hours of meeting Augustus, Quint does what any of us would do and tries to kill him 😂 if they were in the show, i adore the idea of Quint, with years of experience and 12 other henches under their belt, picking up where The Monarch left off and attempting to turn Augustus into a semi-competent villain! imagine it: bringing the neck-snapping, covert-ops specialism of a highly trained professional into the absurd realm of pop culture collection feuds 😭 that’s not to say Quint is successful in coaching him...but Augustus and his uniquely petty, bitchy approach to villainy are not without their uses 😉 

Wally Darling x Cynthie Scribe - Fireflies by Owl City

oh, let’s inject a little whimsy into the world with this one - a love story between an artist and a writer 🥰

Fireflies is a song that evokes all this wonder and delight at the world...and i think that’s something Wally and Cynthie would instantly bond over 😖 Cynthie’s infectious enthusiasm charms Wally, and acts as a perfect foil to his relaxed, soft approach to life. much of their time is spent out in nature, finding fun things to look at and draw and write about - all whilst singing and giggling and occasionally letting their hands touch 💖 if Cynthie were included in the Welcome Home canon, i like to think they’d both be incredibly excited to watch the fireflies together. perhaps they creep out in the dead of night, hoping not to disturb any of their sleeping neighbours, and lie down next to each other on the soft grass banks. the blanket of the night sky, perforated with stars, shimmers above the cosy yellow flickering of the fireflies. entranced, Cynthie barely notices when Wally slips his fingers between theirs...but when they turn to look at him, they can see the fireflies’ glow reflected in his large, black eyes 🥺

'Big' Jack Horner x Aspen Branch - Fairytale by Alexander Rybak

the choice may be an obvious one, but i like it anyway!! 💖😊

Fairytale is told from the point of view of a passionate, emotionally volatile person - and what is ‘Big’ Jack Horner if not a man consumed by fairytales? 🔥 Aspen is initially only Jack’s mark: someone to capture and force the use of her magical, wound-healing voice. yet Aspen’s sweet, simple nature - so contradictory to everything Jack is and has forced to be true about himself - has Jack falling hard 😖 it’s Aspen’s consummate gentleness which leaves Jack caught between adoration and rage. he really is, ‘...in love with a fairytale even though it hurts’, because Jack can’t be in love - that’s a stupid, weak, small thing to be, a distraction from his goal of world domination. but Jack can’t deny himself: the painful twinge in his chest when he sees Aspen smile hurts more than he can bear. if he can’t beat this feeling, well then...he simply must have her 😳

that’s all for now!! let me know if you’d like to hear anymore - i have a few other choices for my other OC x Canon ships :3c

#selfship #oc x canon #augustus st. cloud #wally darling #'big' jack horner #augustus saint cloud #the venture brothers #venture bros #wally darling x oc #welcome home #welcome home arg #jack horner #puss in boots: the last wish #starleskatalks #starleskawrites #long post

[radellama]

the fun section of the writer's ask game

21. Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write?

MY OCS ATM. AND THE VERSIONS OF EVERYONE FOR MY STAR TREK AU. I put a lot of effort into them and making them feel real and understandable within their story!

Harland is super fun to write cause it's a chance to explore a world and characters I love while being respectful of the canon of the game, but seeing what aspects I can go further into with Harland. And all the snippets of Abe and Orc I've started writing is just AUGHHH THEY'RE COMING ALIVE!!!!

22. Who is/are your favourite pairing(s) to write?

Magland... Abe and Orc...... There's some I want to write, like Leon x Ada or Hylink (again.... Sigh....) that I think I'll have fun with. I just like writing pairings that have interesting dynamics or bounce off each other in silly ways

23. Favourite author

Ahhh man. It's hard to say cause I feel like I haven't read anything consistently enough lately to say for sure. I can say when I was younger I really loved CS Lewis and as a teen I really enjoyed what little I'd read by Niel Shusterman, and maybe throw in Adachitoka for good measure

24. Favourite genre to write and read

SCI-FI / THRILLER ALL THE WAYYYYY BABBBEEEYYY

I like other stuff like fantasy and drama and whatever too ofc but like. NOTHING QUITE SCRATCHES THE ITCH LIKE THESE TWO, ESP IF THEY'RE A PAIR.

Sci-fi is soooo broad and fun, it's interesting when it's low concept or high concept and I like that it's so easy to inject philosophical dilemmas into the bones of the story and leave you thinking, and I like how interesting it is when you can draw parallels to current life (it's especially interesting seeing retro future sorta stories, both the fun aesthetics of 90s shit but also just seeing what people thought the scientific advances could be the further back you go, and seeing things that used to be sci-fi become just sci)

AND THRILLERRRRS.... I find them more interesting and scary than horror, though I've often been mistaken for a horror head even tho I feel like I don't watch horror that much... (Unless it's overlapped with thriller I guess lol) Idk I just find that the kind of stories you can tell when you drag out the tension and let the scares settle in to the atmosphere instead of demanding attention front and centre affect me more. I like when there's some kind of conspiracy or danger to work around and it gets more horrific with worse implications the further you claw into it. I want the fear to linger in my mind instead of only speaking to my body (think like how a jump scare isn't really scary other than startling you, vs something that actually unnerves you and gets worse the more you think about it)

I guess all that to say. I like thinking about things and want the story to haunt me with everything it's got. I want to still be thinking about it years later cause there was something in there that lingered....

25. Favourite part of writing

Already answered here

26. Favourite writing program

Libre, I guess? There's certain things I miss from Microsoft word/google docs but fuck them LMAO 🖕🖕🖕 I just wanna be able to write easily and have basic formatting options, ya feel. Libre does the job so I use libre

27. Favourite line/scene

Of my own writing?? I feel like I haven't written them all yet..

Here's a Wip of a scene I really love from much later in harlands story that I really love:

"Well aren't you just a bundle of contradiction." Flea mused.

"Pardon?" Harland asked.

Flea sauntered up to Harland, circling around him as he spoke.

"A friend to both sides of the war." He swatted Harlands hair from his shoulder, watching it fall as he avoided eye contact. "A pacifist whose work has made weapons."

Harland opened his mouth to defend himself, but flea dragged his finger across his chest. Harland couldn't help but get distracted as the general's nail tugged at his collar.

"I don't make weapons." He said, unable to hide the slight waver in his voice.

Flea pouted at him condescendingly. "You may not make them, but would they exist without you?"

Harland clenched his jaw.

"Even when you fight-"

"I don't fight." Harland interrupted.

"EVEN WHEN YOU FIGHT," Flea continued, "you are offensively defensive."

Flea smiled, enjoying Harland struggling to keep himself composed. He stood in front of him, tracing his jawline. "What a contradictory mess of a man…”

28. Favourite side character

Ummmm. Every single one. Idk. Too hard to pick from media but I can tell you that I really like the kitty cat baker lady, shy cow girl and orc's sister from Abe and Orc. And obviously, my most favourite side character from their story is the Penis Wizard

29. Favourite villain

MAGUS BABBBEEEYYY!!!!!!!!!! ALWAYS AND FOREVER!!!!!!!! IHYRYGJPOGJOJGLVJB I NEED TO WRITE STUFF ABOUT HOW INTERESTING HE IS SOMEDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

30. Favourite idea you haven’t started on yet

Oh man there's so much. I will say it's my screenplay, Misled Millionaire, that was an integral part to making me wanna study film. I've planned so much without it feeling ready and I knew I needed to learn more to do the idea justice, and I still have hand written notes from 2019 that I kept, and even found the original quick note I wrote in my phone all the way back when I just had it as a silly little idea:

Reclusive millionaire searching for new life purpose, unlikely friendship with a fake psychic.

The story has changed quite a bit, but the gist of it is that a younger entrepreneur type is feeling lost and lacking despite ticking off so many boxes that should mean he's successful and happy. While he tries to find himself, he grows dependant on his new friendship with a little old lady who gives him fortunes, until one day he can't find her when he really needs her. When I've made progress on other stories, I'll write the screenplay and hopefully direct it myself! So no stealing my ideas!!

Send me some writing asks

#rads asks #chemical brew #hehhehe thank youuuuu

[hermanunworthy]

!DNDADS S2 EP37 SPOILERS!

im a bit late bc i was at work all day but time for ep37 reactions!! i cant believe its already here

- now ive heard everyone talking about the intro i bet its gonna be a rickroll or some shit

- ITS FUCKINF ALL STAR. I KNEW THEY WOULD PULL SOMETHING LIKE THIS

- A TEENAGE GIRLS PARENT JUST GOT SHOT AND KILLED AND UR PLAYING ALL STAR.

- hermie mention in the intro im so calm and cool and chill about this /j

- "ur enough as u are" AINT NO WAY UR ABOUT TO MAKE ME START CRYING OVER A PARODY OF SMASH MOUTHS ALL STAR. WHY DID U HAVE TO PULL OUT THE BIG GUNS

- I DONT WANT THE TAYLOR VOICE CHANGE GOD NO

- MATT IM SCREAMING

- WILL CAMPOS U ABSOLUTE MADMAN. i already knew he was gonna find a way around using revivify but THAT WAS WILD

- are people gonna start drawing normal w that piece of jewelry now. bc i wanna. i already like drawing him w bracelets

- oh god what is beths fact gonna be.

- "i just keep meeting all the right people at all the wrong times" BETH MAY U ARE EVIL. THE PLOT OF THIS EPISODE HASNT EVEN STARTED AND IM ALREADY EMO

- ITS STARTING. OH NO

- NICKY BETTER FUCKING SHOW UP im curious to see what they actually decided on for the reason for him not being there last episode

- HERMIE WAS REMEMBERED giggles and kicks my feet

- TAYLOR AND LINCOLN ARENT AWARE THAT TERRY IS DEAD RN.

- were getting terris reaction rn i cant believe this is happening

- IM starting to feel sick godddd

- i bet im gonna see art of the lincoln and taylor piggyback ride hehe

- OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD TERRIS ASLEEP THIS MEANS WERE GONNA GET SCARY BACK. ALSO IS SHE GONNA SEE WILLY OH NOOOO

- NO NO NO NO NONONO

- "theres my girl" STFUUUUUU

- DOES SCARY REMEMBER ANYTHING??? DOES SHE KNOW WHATS GOING ON????

- "just wake him up" I. HATE. THIS EPSIODE

- SCARY GETTING CHOKED UP I CANT DO THIS

- TERRY DIDNT EVEN NEED TO DIE FUCK THIS

- "whoooa shit thats fucked up!" anthony burch i know u are just so incredibly pleased w urself.

- SCARYS STILL PRETENDING LIKE SHE DOESNT CARE ABOUT TERRY. JUST FEEL UR FEELINGS GIRL GOOD GOD

- "EMBARRASSING"??? FOR A KID TO BE UPSET THAT ONE OF THEIR PARENTS GOT MURDERED???? WILLY STAMPLER WTF IS WRONG W U

- there was never a more obvious lie than willy saying hell revive terry

- 19 INSIGHT LETS GOOO

- THATS RIGHT SCARY. STAND THE FUCK UP TO HIM

- NORMAL DESPERATELY TRYING TO HELP AWWWW MAN :[[ I HATE THIS

- PUTS MY HEAD IN MY HANDS. THIS IS SO DEEPLY UPSETTING

- WHEN WE SAID WE WANTED MORE SCARY AND NORMAL INTERACTIONS WE DIDNT THINK ITD BE LIKE THIS!!!

- THE TWINS ARE HERE NOW OMG

- beth is out for fucking blood this episode. god she is so good at making the audience feel for her characters

- SHES TELEPORTING TO GRANT?? IM NOT READY YET

- "hes dangerous! get away from him!" THE FACT THAT THIS IS LINCOLN SAYING THIS ABOUT GRANT BREAKS MY HEART

- SCARY HAS A GUN FUCK YEAH!!!

- FIRST HERMIE SPEAKING LINE OF THE EPISODE YIPPEEEE

- halfway through the episode now. cant wait to see what could possibly go wrong next!!

- i love whenever anthony allows a fun rulebreaking idea to work

- IDK WHY THE IDEA OF THE KIDDADS HAVING A GC IS SO FUNNY TO ME

- rons status remains a mystery....

- "we could do a whole scene w just hermie and all the other ones" u joke matt but i enjoy every scene w hermie no matter how unnecessary and drawn out

- as always linc and taylor are such a funny iconic duo

- WERE FINALLY GETTING ANGRY NORMAL??? FINALLY????

- WILL WITHDRAWING HIS COOL MOVE LMAO

- i just realized WE STILL HAVENT SEEN NICKY!!! GODDAMN!!!

- "the gayest fucking mecha of all time" swiftli fans do u like the new ship name /j

- ig i cannot deny it anymore swiftli is practically canon atp

- NICKY!!!! NICKY!!!!! I SHOT STRAIGHT UP IN MY SEAT

- NICKY AND HERMIE ARE FINALLY INTERACTING. PRAISE THE LORD

- i thought nicky got all his limbs back?? did anthony just forget

- btw ive probably been waking up my whole house w how hard im laughing over swiftli this episode

- LINCOLNS GONNA PUNCH GRANT WHOA. WHOA

- "so what are u gonna do, ur gonna kill me?" as i said before. i hate this episode.

- SCARY OBLITERATED PAPA JOHN SO FAST WHOA.

- THE DUNGEON SETUP VS THE TONE OF THE EPISODE HELPPP

- i just had such a weird thought/prediction. but i will hold my tongue. bc the last time i said something like this it came true and i do not want this to come true

- IS SCARY GONNA BREAK IT W LOVE FOR TERRY. I CANT DO THIS

- "i love u and i hate that u made me love u when u are who u are and u knew it." I WISH U COULD SEE MY FUCKING FACE RN. HOLYYY SHIT THATS DEVASTATING

- oh. my. good. lord.

- GUYS????? I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW. HOLY FUCK. THAT WAS HEAVY AS SHIT

#dndads #dndads spoilers #dndads s2 spoilers #siren says

[meeresengel]

hey @soundsofastar i'm so sorry for being autistic. have fun under the read more

ok. this guy is alyn (more art of him found here if you want) resident weird genderfuck middle aged guy of this oc world. is he transmasc transfem no idea (he canonically has taken both estrogen and testosterone also he/they/she user) but he isn't cisgender that's for certain

a self-proclaimed genius whos a bit full of himself, incredibly unpredictable and strange. nobody seems to understand his intentions - not even himself at times even though you'd kinda like expect him to know that. he claims to be a scientist who's able to change the world for the better but he doesn't exactly have the qualifications to be one. no phd or anything.

he had a kinda shitty life growing up (no real parental figure or anything just his younger sister who he had to live alone with for. his entire fucking life because his parents sucked ass) which led him to be like this. since he never found "happiness" while growing up he wants to spread his idea of happiness to the world though his idea of happiness is incredibly skewered due to a lot of things and he doesn't exactly have a voice of reason to stop him. he genuinely means well but having no sense of morality does something to a motherfucker

there's a lot more to unpack about him and the world he's from in general + the other ocs there but i'm not good at putting it into words yet. but i have drawings i wanna make of them at least so

#very insane incoherent ramblings #( oc ) : alyn

[fexalted]

any combination of ❄️🌧️☔ for gf wips, if you'd like?

❄️ Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing: oh here's a fun one i haven't thought about in a long time- au where ford clones himself with the copy machine so he can have the clone perform the surgery to put the metal plate in his head

Ford takes your left hand and draws a "2" on the back of it in black marker. It reminds you of the handprint on the journals, and your feelings are torn between the fondness of discovery and research and pride, and despair of pain and betrayal and how could you be so stupid? A look at the pained half-smile, half-grimace on Ford's face reveals he's feeling the same.

🌧️ Share something angsty from your WIP: and now some angst from the same wip :3c

You're about to tell him that the surgery went well, everything is fine, he's going to be okay, but Ford speaks before you do, shattering what little composure you have with one word. "Stanley?" he breathes incredulously, his voice weak and cracking. You're not sure if you have a heart anymore but you feel like it just stopped regardless. He's delusional, clearly the anesthesia hasn't worn off completely yet, and he's mistaken you for your—his—brother. "I... I'm—" you start to explain, but stop short. Ford's eyes are hazy and unfocused but hopeful, and you find you can't take that hope away so quickly. You might as well let one of you believe that Stanley is actually here for you.

☔ Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?: i'm eternally thinking about my au where ford gives journal 3 to stan instead of journal 1, leading to stan uncovering the blacklight messages and the locations of the other two journals much earlier than he does in canon 👀 i get too hung up on the logistics of it all when i think about writing it tho fhfjshfj like how much of the canon 30 years was spent teaching himself the physics required to make the portal work, and how much of that time would be shaved off by having all three journals more or less right from the beginning? was running the shack vital to making the money needed for portal repair/upkeep, or would he have been able to get it up and running again with any spare materials ford and fidds had on hand prior? and then of course, after figuring how long it would take stan to get the portal open, that opens the questions of what ford is doing on the other side at that exact moment. much to think about........

ask game for teasing wips/upcoming projects

#ty for the questions rose!! 💗 #fex replies #anistarrose

[hyperfixated-on-hensper]

I think jasper likes painting

He definitely does! He's very creative, yet naturally messy, he definitely thrives with a paintbrush.

(Since, I headcanon him as autistic, maybe he'd be just like my brother who's also on the spectrum and have been obsessed with Bob Ross as a toddler)

I'll use this ask as an opportunity to share a few Jasper canon/headcanons hobbies.

I believe Jasper is a person with many hobbies; mainly things he's learned to do outta loneliness and boredom.

The first two are actually one's @jasperdunlop told me.

Jasper likes to garden

I don't remember the reason they had this headcanon, but I like to think the reason has something to do with Henry's canon flower camp era.

Like maybe Henry came back from camp and excitedly showed Jasper some of what he learned, and Jasper just took a liking to it.

Jasper is a good cook

This one is actually canon; he's shown cooking on several occasions throughout the show. He cooked dinner for Henry's family (and uncle hair neck) once. He also made the floor fajitas- which he makes every friday, then he also made brown soup for Charlotte's birthday. There's probably more but yeah.

The theory that was told to me was that he can cook really well because he's neglected at home and has always had to cook his own food. That matched with his spontaneous personality means he probably experimented in the kitchen and through trial and (lots of) error became very talented.

A few additional canon hobbies include:

-belt making

-bucket collecting (obviously)

-watching romcoms (He's quoted several)

-Dodge ball

-etc (I know I'm missing a few)

My Headcanons:

I think Jasper is musically talented, I have no reason for this other than the fact that the actor Sean Ryan Fox is a great musician.

So, I've given those traits to Jasper

I headcanon that Jasper can sing, really well, but no one knows it- not even him.

Jasper always does goofy fun renditions of songs (like the cup song) whenever he sings in front of any camera or person, making his voice dramatically loud and probably uses an accent too.

But when he's singing to himself, quietly while locking up Junk-N-Stuff, it's really good. A soft sweet melody that he doesn't even realize he's producing.

And it surprises the hell outta anyone who just so happens to hear it.

Now, I also believe he can play instruments too.

A lot of the time he's alone when he works upstairs in Junk-N-Stuff, so to combat his boredom and loneliness he started fiddling with the piano in the store.

After that he's learned how to play every instrument that comes into the store before he sells it.

He's learned, piano, guitar, harmonica, and the bagpipes.

Jasper can draw- but only one thing, Henry.

Another headcanon hobby; Partially mine.

I talked @americasass-rogers about this one.

It started off as a Hensper discussion, about how I that Jasper- Henry's self proclaimed soulmate- Donlup has had his and Henry's entire wedding planned out since they were in kindergarten.

Then we joked about how if they do eventually get married he's gonna show Piper and Charlotte (the wedding planners) a scrap book with bad drawings he made in elementary school.

Then they said "which would also probably lead to him being very good at drawing henry specifically."

We decided that when he was little he used to show off his drawing to both Henry and probably Henry's mom and later Charlotte being like look at this awesome drawing I made while they were like just little kids drawings. But as he got older he stopped because he realised that maybe it was a bit weird to draw you and your friend getting married but he got really good at drawing that specifically so his drawings now are actually really good he just doesn’t share them with anyone.

The only person that sees the drawings is Ms.Shapen, because he doodles on the back of assignments.

#henry danger #henry hart #jasper dunlop #hobbies #henry danger headcanon #jasper headcanon #hes a very creative person #man of many talents #hensper #Jenry #jasper x henry

[masschase]

for the boss ask meme, I have my own question:

what little (or big) bits of lore about your boss have you not shared yet with the world?

- snail-eggs :)

(p.s. your boss is so cool and i’m living off crumbs here, i wanna know more)

Boss ask meme

You think my boss is cool? 👉👈

It's funny because I do toss out scraps to some extent because irl I am extremely shy and awkward. I have a much higher confidence level online but I still get the feeling of oh no, I'm annoying everyone so... I sling out ask memes to see if there's anything people actually want to hear. I make fun of my asshole with a gun disaster bi emperor of everything but she is very close to my heart too. I wanted to draw her in each era to do a proper intro post, but I'm still developing confidence in drawing again.

I do get a little confused about what I've posted in fanfic vs what I've written but not posted yet vs what I've posted about her on here vs what i've slung in tags on other posts.

So I'm going to post stuff that just feels 'lore-y' and more about her personality vs. her life before the Saints, which I've written about in the other ask meme here and during the Saints which is basically the events of all the games with some fill-ins between/during them.

Ahem.

She's a big literature nerd. Spent her childhood escaping into books. Wanted to study English Lit at college but ended up dropping out of HS instead. She particularly loves period novels because they have relatably strong heroines but their problems are so frivolous compared to days without food or getting shot in the streets. She can relate to them just enough to escape into the idea of having no real problems. In fact she'd very much like to be Austen's Emma. It's pointed out in the post-SRIV era that she is in fact handsome, clever and rich now.

Obviously (and this is an example of really running a brief mention in canon) she particularly loves Jane Austen. She tends to fling out quotes when she's drunk because they just come to her in that lucid state, but also because, as Johnny calls out, she'd probably be doing it sober if she wasn't worried about "being a dork". Also the Brontes would be her next choice as Male Voice 1's line about reading Jane Eyre 13 times is canon to her too.

Again I think this is not unusual for a Boss in general but she often comes across as a bit of an airhead when really she is quite intelligent. I feel like by SRTT she is playing this up a little without realising and by some time post-SRIV she's straight up doing it on purpose at times; more out of humility than anything though it does contribute to people underestimating her. The first time Matt tries to tell her about her brain activity in the simulation she responds with "Sure, whatever Matt, blah blah FUUUUCK.". He tries again a year and a half later when they are actually friends and gets "Huh. OK. Well let’s just keep that between us, Matty."

Underneath/alongside that, though, is this third level that is just... slightly surreal and quite cheesy. Not always for humour, either, sometimes it's just her being completely serious in her bizarreness.

A slightly humorous example would be how she sticks Viola and Oleg together to run Steelport. She says it's her get along shirt. She does the same with Pierce and Shaundi and the 'dirty dancing' dance.

A more serious example would be from one of my favourite chapters I've written but not posted yet where she's talking to Matt about their new planet during Nyte Blayde night. They get onto how they can persuade people to want to live there and to repopulate and the concept of the American dream. She points out that it was always something used to drive immigration and asks why he wants to live in her new nation. He makes a joke about her new nation having no internet if he doesn't, but then gives a very heartfelt response. She gets emotional and doesn't really know what to say so she gives him a green m&m. "My... green card?" he asks, because they're super close by this point and he's used to her weird brain.

Something similar is at play to the intelligence thing is how nice she is. She gets caught up in the snark with everyone else but equally when someone is kind to her she leans into that too. She would deny that she is the tough girl with a heart of gold type bc she doesn't try to hide her softer side. She just IS badass and reckless and kind and emotional and will do anything for her friends all at once. She doesn't stop calling herself an asshole, but that's more or less an internalised message by this point.

Which brings me onto honesty. It's not like she just comes out with everything, hardly surprising considering how shy she was pre-Saints, but she's not inclined to lie either. Ask a question and unless she is in denial about it herself (e.g. love) or concerns something from long enough ago that she finds it cringey (e.g. her penchant for trading cards and other non-techy nerdy shit in her teens), she's likely to answer honestly. Kinzie never seems to learn this and will ask her things to try to fluster her only to get a very honest gross answer. Alcohol or weed definitely exacerbates this honesty.

She is like... superstitious in a slightly weird way. Like where she's half joking and half believes it. Shaundi notes that she buys good luck charms whenever she sees them because she broke a mirror in *checks notes* February 2015. She *has* to get the christmas decorations down on time. She has this whole thing where pancakes are a bad omen bc Zinjai started making them whenever he had bad news for her. This came from a longer thing where Keith David's mom always did that and Casey told Johnny no-one ever did that for her and then Matt overheard and told Zinjai to do it for her when the heat broke and they were on backup heaters... this is already so long lmao.

She's always cold; she grew up in several layers and a snowsuit. She eats a lot. She fucks a lot of people including every SRIV romance option once bc she decides if she only fucks each of her friends once she won't develop feelings for them. She has a lot of these sorts of somewhat arbitrary, pulling rank rules about work at times actually, it's one of her more unpleasant qualities. A little dizzied by power. Luckily she does get called out on it and she does get better over time.

She tends to cry at most media, a lot more than irl. If that media is somehow relatable to her own life; something about a protective older sibling, a lonely child, a struggle for money, something where the protagonist loses a friend or friends, the floodgates full on open.

She's extremely anti-relationship for years and at times her excuses are pretty flimsy. Again, Johnny takes issue with this as he wants to see his best friend/little sister figure happy and feels she uses his loss of Aisha to back up her commitment issues. She has a genuine fear of losing someone she loves but fails to notice how dramatically her circumstances have changed between sr2&3 for this to be way less of an issue. All of it really is backing up a very deep fear of abandonment. Her father left, her mother neglected her, her sister had to leave home for the good of her own child. This is why the Saints become such a family to her.

This is probably super incoherent as I'm running on very little sleep and I've been writing it in drabbles for most of the day. In case it wasn't obvious, I'm always happy to answer more questions about her though and I'm sorry if this is kind of... boring. I never know where to start. I've been writing this character for months now and now I feel like I know her so well that it's almost as hard to talk about her without specific questions as if I was asked to just talk about myself. That's why I'm always fishing for questions from ask memes. I either don't know where to start or it ends in a word vomit like this 😅

Thank you for your question @snail-eggs!

#asks #boss ask meme #saints row #saints row boss #casey clark #cassandra clark #oc #sr

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

For the ask/tag game, every one of your wip titles intrigues me to no end, but I’m especially tied between ‘Bad Guys Have All The Fun’ and ‘Voices in the Library’!

I’m honestly in awe of your titling skills! Does it take you ages to come up with something you like (like it does for me lol) or do you find you have a knack for it? Also, thanks for the tag!! 💕 -@lostinthemayall

Hiiii! Aw, thank you! And no problem about the tag, I love the fics of yours I've read. ❤️

Titles are so fun and I find it far too exciting when the right one finally presents itself. There's only been one time where I've had a fic completely written and still not known what to call it - with most of these WIPs I've either been inspired by a quote from the source material, or the right title has popped into my mind when brainstorming the story. I've noticed I tend to use the word "bastard" a lot. 😂 Although, I suppose that's unsurprising considering the fandoms I write for.

Bad Guys Have All The Fun

Hehe okay, this WIP is something me and @colourshot-draws cooked up, so shout out to him for being Grate™. I'm going to go on a bit about this one, you've struck on one of my favourites. 😂

This WIP is basically an AU for Blackadder the Third... where we shove Alan B'Stard in there to cause murderous havoc. Why? Well, I think the characters of Edmund Blackadder, especially the third one, and Alan B'Stard would have a deliciously awful dynamic. As Rik already plays a character in the Blackadder universe - the noble Lord Flashheart woof woof - setting a story in S3 means I get to write about an absent from canon Regency era Flash, which is fun too! In this WIP, Alan is the younger brother of Flash and has bitter youngest child syndrome particularly considering the inheritance Flash is due and he ISN'T when their dad croaks. Blackadder doesn't like Flashheart, so Alan seeks him out to help plot big brother's demise.

It's gonna get dark - its main two characters have extremely questionable morals - and this isn't a story where good triumphs over evil... more a story about the different layers of evil and how even the most detached, calculating, sadistic people have vulnerabilities. I also just want to make Edmund and Alan play chess together. I think Baldrick is basically the moral compass knocking about in this WIP, so I want to explore the Blackadder and Baldrick relationship too. It transcends the generations, after all!

Oh, and the title comes from a line in Blackadder's Christmas Carol. 😊

None of this WIP is posted so far and not a lot is actually written yet 😂 buuuut here's a little snippet:

Of course, Baldrick didn't seem to be getting the message.

"But this second son could be a whole different person," he said, ignorant of the fact he'd just dropped a handful of stuffing on the floor.

Blackadder sighed and rolled his eyes. "Funnily enough, I suspect that he will be."

He gave Baldrick a deadpan stare.

Baldrick shook his head. "No, sir, I meant that he might have a completely different personality to Lord Flash- to the other one."

Blackadder's eyebrow quirked upwards once more at the news that Baldrick understood the concept of personalities.

Baldrick went on, "You never know, Mr B, he could be like you."

He smiled stupidly at Blackadder, misunderstanding the eyebrow entirely.

It was so obviously meant as a compliment, that comment, though coming from Baldrick a compliment was more akin to an insult. Still, Blackadder couldn't see how there was a possibility of even a sprinkling of a nugget of truth to Baldrick's inane suggestion - there was no one like Edmund Blackadder, no one at all. Frankly, he wouldn't have minded it staying that way.

Blackadder stood up, dusting off his black coat in preparation for door answering duties. What a poor, brainless cretin he had on his hands here.

"Yes, Baldrick, maybe he will be like me," he agreed with a telling smirk. "And maybe one day, man will walk upon the moon."

As he went to climb the stairs out of the kitchen, doubtless leaving Baldrick more confused than before their conversation began, Blackadder felt that viciousness gnawing at his innards again.

"Then again, maybe not."

Thanks for the ask! Apologies for the extraordinarily self indulgent answer. I've got another ask in my inbox asking about Voices in the Library, so I'll spill about that one then. 😊❤️

#asks #bean-in-every-fandom #wips #bad guys have all the fun #blackadder #the new statesman #alan b'stard #yes i take sitcoms far too seriously what of it 😂 #fanfic

[a-weird-writer]

OMG U watch Blue Exorcist? Who's your fav character? Thank you for that amaimon doodle. Will you draw more of him? Will you write for him? Blue Exorcist deserves more writersss. ;;0;;

Haven't watched the episodes yet (And there is a movie!), but I saw a few short clips and it looks like a dozy!

Apparently, it contains a hell bunch of lore to consume. I'm a sucker for lore, though it takes me a while to really understand it, and Christianity is...complex to say the least. Lots you can expand from and just as much to take away.

Which makes sense, given how much information and specifics there is in canon religion, and there is so damn much holy shit. As far as I've seen, I like it, it's like a reverse Constantine. Great animation, handsome designs and the voices go straight to my core, in other words, it's appears well put together! Can't really chose a favorite character since I still need to start the series, for slot filler, I'll pick Amaimon. Such a chaotic child lol, from the clips it seems like he just does whatever he wants, hilariously might I add.

I plan on drawing more Amaimon, yes. Really, I plan on giving near everyone a shot sometime.

I already have a desire to draw Mephisto Pheles and I barely seen him. Not without some self-insert as well of course (I'm weak for demonic "gentlemen", I'm gonna have tons of fun with him). Mostly to get a handle on drawing him, work on doodling them more and the side characters. I'm planning out some original sketches of them, concepts and ideas, since my love for them is only growing! I get the feeling, once I get around to watching the series, I'm going to start shipping some characters too (A lot of them are adorable, and I can't get enough of the designs, the crazy shit we come up with nowadays).

Whether or not I would write for him, I won't lie, probably will.

Once I finish the series (Watch the anime and read a majority of the manga), which is going to take me some time, I'll likely end up putting Blue Exorcist on my "add-to fandoms" list. But right now, I'm not currently writing for it, I'll be more than happy to answer asks and doodle requests (Once they open!) about them, but no writing requests at the moment! Especially since I'm busy finishing up the other 5 in drafts, requests are closed at the moment till they're done. I'll reblog and update the fandom list and Q&A if I make a permeant decision.

I'm aware there isn't much fanfiction for them out there, and I'm so sad there isn't, it's one of the reasons why I am considering writing for it. I've searched AO3 up and down, there isn't much to read! It's a tragedy!

Thanks for the interest anon!

#ask #anon #anonymous