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kuni-is-daddy · 1 year

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Ive been reading a lot of yan!scara fics but i was thinking.. how would scara be with a yandere s/o???

Boss! Scaramouche X yandere Assistant/Bodyguard reader PART 2?

OoF. that made my brain stop while i was just 'struggling' writing something anon. U CURED MY WRITERS BLOCK.

where we last left off in the "boss scara series" you confessed to him and made the first move. the both of you began to truly cling onto eachother. but what if y/n finally shows their obsessive behavior..

Scara ranting to childe :((

CAPI'S NOTE: IM TRAUMATIZED. PART 1 GOT A COMMUNITY LABEL :/ now I have to be a little nice in the smut parts. Any advice on how to avoid it is appreciated :)

AM I FREAKING OUT FOR NO REASON? GN😭❌ ITS 12:13AM

BOSS! SCARA. PART1

Part3!

AMAZING ART

Scara masterlist

WORDS 1.2K

MINORS DO. NOT. INTERACT.❌❌❌

Sparring:

i feel like reader would start acting a bit creepy, Like for example Scara would usually just have you wait outside the building for him to come back from changing his attire back into his suit after you two 'spar' but reader insisted to wait for him 'outside the changing room' Scara thought you we're trying to act like a tease as usual and say things around 'hmm? You wanna see more my pet?' or even down right have you suck him off in his personal changing room. When it comes to sparring your always giving him such praise for his strength, its not everyday or..at all. where someone can surpass you of all people. but you just couldnt EVER wrap your head around him~ "Your so strong master~ I never expect anyless from you" You'd both usually spar for around 5+ rounds but scara started to feel..Different about it.

Fighting/Missions:

"Tsk. Another boring ass day coming to aclose.." He'd say while turning off his favorite song, bohemian rhapsody. He adjusts his tie while opening the door to see you with a big smile on your face. With his already needed paperwork you got from his 'bestie' childe. "The fuck is all this?" "Its your paperwork for the week master~ I already filled it all out for you and childe helped me-" He snatched it away from you." "Alright shit..You dont have to act like such a fucking nerd y/n."

The both of you walked through narukami island, through the outskirts to inazuma city while a bunch of nobushi tried to ambush you. With one swift draw of your weapon you murdered them all in one blow. Scara barely shifted his eyes away from his paper. Only to see your bloodthirsty smile as the nobushi rogue samurai began to cough up blood. He was use to seeing and experiencing reactions like this due to him always being around childe when they train within the abyss. But you. Something was off about you lately.

Scara would purposely drag you into the abyss when its usually just him and childe. He whispered to childe, pointed at a group of abyss creatures and said that they 'are after him' and the both of them would watch as you rabidly charged at his 'enemys' like a dog. Blood splatters all over your suit as you laughed at their pathetic attempts to try and get a free hit at you.

Childe

"Hey comrad! How are ya' today?" The ginger said while sitting next to you in the hallway waiting room. "IM great childe! Me and kuni went out to eat today and it was so much fun. Have you seen the way he fights childe? The way he pulls out his katana..." You daydreamed and ranted off about scaramouche to childe. The both of you shared the same bloodthirsty perspective, Weather over your s/o or just in general. But little did you know he put on a happy face infront of you. Scara asked him to 'spy' on you and ask about what the two of you did today and hear your reaction.

---

"Childe something is up with y/n. I dont know why the fuck they keep acting like that."

"Like what? Dont you usually have the same type of attitude scara.. Dont you Like that?"

"Ugh. I knew talking to you was going to be pointless. Childe, I dont know who is more of a fucking burden. You or Y/N."

Then they suddenly heard you knocking on the door. "Kuni!! Are you in their kuni!"

"the fuck-" Scara said under his breath. He halfly opened the door as childe kept quiet.

"Mmm~ master there you are.. I was hoping you could help me with my sparing tonight." You began to open the door farther and push at his tie. "No. im fucking busy." He removed your hand. "Kuni..But your always busy. And didnt i already help you finish your work today?" He sighed at your perseverance. "Y/n. One day im gonna fucking fire you if you keep pissing me off. And the fuck has been up with you lately?" "N-Nothings wrong kuni! I-im sorry. I just wanted to spend more time with you.." That was all you needed to hear to severely apologize for bothering him and went 'home'

"Well shit. Comrad ill leave this up too you :D -" the ginger patted the short mans shoulder and walked towards the door.

"where the fuck are you going?"

"Im going home-"

He looked at childe with a dead expression.

"Hey listen. If this is really a problem to you, Just get rid of y/n. Your stronger then them right? Problem solved."

"Im not going to fucking kill them."

Y'all do it 🤪

scara would obviously feel some sort of way about your sudden change in behavior But be entertained at this 'game' he'd play with you. You came off so sweet and well put together. you would apologize and blush at the littlest of things but now you we're addicted to him. You murdered with no hesitation, Every thought you had was about him. You'd send nude pictures of yourself, Even videos to him while he was at meetings of you fingering yourself. But it was nothing he couldnt handle. He knew how to always put you in your place, He already surpassed you in everyway. He was stronger then you and certainly had you wrapped around his finger. He threatened to fire you hundreds of times just to see how fucking scared and how'd much you beg but never did fire you unlike everyone else, Yet every single time your heart would skip a beat at the word. Leaving kuni was something you never wanted to happen. Ever. Kuni concluded that he'd have fun with you for as long as he wanted. He knew dam well you weren't going anywhere unless he chose.

his phone rang.

"What?" Scara answered in annoyance.

"K~kuni i~" He was greeted to the sound of you moaning "im- F-fuck~ Im s' sorry for earlier. Can i be your good pet and make it up for you daddy? Im waiting for you at home"

Scara went to his penthouse and when he opened the door to his room, while taking off his tie. You we're putting on a show for him, face down ass up with 2 of your fingers going back and forth inside your wet hole. "Kuni~ your home....P-please~ I want you inside of me~" "Oh yeah? Is my little slut that desperate f' me?" He took no time taking off his belt and shoving his pants aside to stuff his cock inside of you.

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche headcanons #yandere reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #scaramouche #genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines

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dukestewart · 1 year

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I actually have a question, I'm wanting to start a webcomic at some point in the future myself, do you have any recommendations or advice for me?

Okay, I have a million things to say on the subject but to save you a lot of scrolling I’ll cut it down to the main things I wish I knew when starting my webcomic.

Don’t overprepare

It’s easy to fall into the trap of perfecting your art style or developing your character arcs before you actually, like, make the thing. The truth is you get diminishing returns on the pre-production phase, and too much planning will just waste your time. I once wrote an entire script and sketched out 200 pages for a graphic novel version of my webcomic Roundhouse, 90% of which is now redundant or contradictory. Probably took me hundreds of hours. Whoops. Make a basic plot line and some concept pictures by all means, you gotta start with something, but you’ll be much more motivated to make the comic when you’re already making it.

Collect references

This might sound kind of contradictory to my previous advice but bear with me. It’s important to prioritise creation over planning but gathering a compendium of your favourite artworks and writing techniques will save you time in the long run. If I’m ever stuck on how to draw a certain expression for example I know I have a folder full of expertly drawn faces to remind me how nostrils work. Personally I keep separate reference folders for colour, anatomy and character designs. Fantastic cure for artist’s block, swear by it.

Get someone to proofread

You have no idea how important it is to get a second opinion. No one in the history of media has ever been better off without a different pair of eyes to catch a mistake. They’ll see the obvious things you missed, a typo, a pacing issue, a joke that makes no sense… if you’re embarrassed to show it to anyone in your life then get an internet friend to have a look. Hell, I’ll have a look. Send me a message, I’m easy.

Even the most talented creators struggle to be seen

A good comic will always have a better chance of success than a crap one but that’s only a part of the equation. We’re forgetting our two troublesome neighbours, Monsieur Marketing and Lady Luck. It stinks, but we operate in an algorithm-based economy, and getting things out there takes a lot of hard research. I hate the marketing side of things, personally. I’d much rather make a page every week and not care whether it’s seen or not but such is the nature of capitalism that I have to try and monetise my work any way I can. Knowing someone in the business can’t hurt either.

Look, I’ll never be able to condense everything I know about webcomics in a single post so consider this my declaration to give advice to anyone who asks for it. Got a specific question about comics? Message me.

#webcomic #webcomic tips #webcomics #webcomic advice #I should probably make a tag for these text posts

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hollowwrites · 9 months

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Meet the MCs

I’ve been suffering from the worst Art block since I’ve been playing Hogwarts Legacy but I’m such a visual person I NEED to see my characters to imagine them doing stuff. So here’s AI Art of my MCs and a little info on them all, accompanied by poorly drawn Wands and their partners wands (I tried to get them to match I hope that’s obvious (Other than Evelyns but that’s just cause I thought it was pretty)

(Also just as a blanket HC for all characters because I live blissfully in denial of the actual ending of the game, Anne’s curse is semi cured after Rookwood dies so each MC has a way of prolonging the Catacomb mission until this happens.)

Evelyn Hollow

Slytherin, Muggleborn, x Ominis Gaunt

“Aaaaand wouldn’t you like to show Sebastian just how much he’s annoyed you these past few years. It’s a great stress relief pummelling him into the ground”

Is a Slytherin because: Pride. Otherwise a total Hufflepuff. Exceptionally prideful to a fault. Won’t ask for help for anything from anyone.

Mother passed away before coming to Hogwarts in Fifth Year, Never knew her father

Cares for Anne after the events of HL

Her wand is a bird skull. She assumes it’s because her mother used to call her ‘Dove’ when she was little because her hair was bright white.

Became close with Ominis after: The Common Room. Love at first sight obviously. He offered to help her whilst she was at her most overwhelmed. After the events of the Scriptorium, they only became closer and it enabled them to slap some sense into Sebastian.

Her and Ominis confronted Sebastian to get the book and Relic from him. I’ve wrote about it like 80 times I’m very passionate about saving Seb!!

See: All of my Ominis content is with Evelyn. She my main baybee

Maeve Bramford

Hufflepuff, Half-blood, x Garreth Weasley

“Chompers? You named it? It’s a cabbage” Garreth asked, a confused knot forming over his brow.

“It’s a very good cabbage”

Is a Hufflepuff because: Patience. She has to, to be with Garreth.

Completely clueless about magic despite having a wizarding Father. They kept magic from her from fear of her feeling inadequate and due to her fathers family disowning him for being with a muggle.

Avid Herbologist

Became close with Garreth after: some point after her first Herbology and Potions lesson. My HC for her is that she met Garreth going to Hogsmeade and so when she got introduced to the Room of Requirement and started growing her own plants she immediately started dealing providing ingredients to Garreth leading to lots of late night experimental sessions and lots of trips to the Hospital Wing.

Prevented Sebastian from going insane by telling Garreth everything that happened. Him and Sebastian are good friends (don’t fight me on this) so having Maeve, Garreth, Ominis and Anne overwhelm him caused him to breakdown and stop using Salazars Spellbook.

See: The Gardener and The Alchemist

Victoria Grey

Gryffindor, Pureblood, x Sebastian Sallow

Is a Gryffindor because: Determination.

Very popular immediately in Hogwarts. Literally the worst person for Sebastian to be with, with his Jealousy but…hey ho…who doesn’t love a little drama.

Sketches constantly. Spent a lot of time with him in the Undercroft drawing and studying.

Talked Sebastian out of his Dark Magic BS immediately. She sat sketching with him whilst he studied in the Undercroft and whilst he mumbled to himself about dark sacrifices and inferi relics she just argued with him until he saw reason. She probably agreed with a lot of what he was doing so when she said ‘No’ to him it was a gut punch. They stopped speaking for a few days (not very long but if they’re together everyday?) until Sebastian broke into the Gryffindor Common Room to see her and apologise and told her he wanted to get rid of the book.

Becomes close with Sebastian after: becoming Crossed Wand Champion. Sebastian argues with Lucan that she shouldn’t be considered champion until they duelled each other. Immediate regret. Gets annihilated…again. Worse after she has her own wand.

See: I DONT HAVE ANYTHING WITH HER IN!!! I’m very new to being a Seb girly so hopefully soon. I have a request that could be her…

Masterlist

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fenicenera83 · 11 months

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🍃Armand had not left Marius' side since they had finally been reunited. All that time that had passed unrelentingly between the two of them, swept away. Armand had literally flown into his Master's arms that night and had never left them again. He had found his place again, had finally re-embraced the only one who had ever made him whole, the one who had healed him, and cured him, who had rewritten an entire universe just for him. Those arms, the safety and joy, the warmth and ecstasy, he had lived so far from that light, had longed for it so much in silent remorse, that he was now drunk, totally drunk, of that light, of those words, those kisses and that love that had made him strong and happy, that love he had only remembered and then dreamed of, held tightly deep inside him, that safe and secure place to return to so he could move on. Now he no longer needed it, his love, was there, beside him, guiding and loving him, building with him a new universe just for the two of them. Armand had let everything else go, had returned to the one to whom he had always felt he belonged, the only one who had ever made him feel truly precious, wanted and cherished like nothing else in the world.

🍃Armand had made a habit of taking the pencils Marius used to sketch his paintings. Whenever puzzled Marius would ask him if he knew anything about them, Armand would shake his head, and inwardly curse himself for never putting them back. Caught up in the eagerness to create, to improve, hoping to be able to show his Master one day something worthy of his talent.In fact, it didn't take long for Marius to realise what was going on, a half-drawn sheet of paper, his hands smeared with graffiti, rubbers jumping out from the least imaginable places. Abandoned blocks, stripped of all paper, art and art history books everywhere. So instead of devoting himself to painting, Marius began to devote his attentions to drawing. Armand obviously noticed this immediately, and devoted himself, feigning disinterest, to absorbing everything Marius did to create figures or delicate flowers and landscapes on the rough sheets. Armand's eyes followed every line, every trace, every movement of those beautiful and adored hands. And every evening, slowly, Armand moved a little closer to his Master at work. Until, with a smile, Marius offered him the pencil he held between his fingers, and Armand stared at him dumbfounded, but Marius did not lose heart, and placed the block he held on his lap between the two of them. Armand caressed Marius' hand before accepting the pencil with a small sigh of assent. Marius took another pencil and together they devoted themselves to art, Armand happy to learn, Marius happy to teach, both happy to love each other freely again.

🍃Armand could be extremely jealous. It was not something that happened to him often, nor was it something he felt easily. But if Marius entered the jealousy equation, it was open and ravenous warfare for him. He had kept those feelings at bay and tied up for so long, that now that he could freely feel them again, he sometimes became a time bomb. He was well aware, that he was overreacting and his pride was being hurt. But Marius was Marius, and he was not willing to give him up to anyone even an inch. Only to Daniel, only because he loved him, and he knew how important and loved by him Marius was. The rest was a firm no. He already had to share him with the court, his duties, his friends, which in truth, Armand was glad Marius had, especially Thorne. Whenever Lestat approached Marius, sometimes, just to spite him, and Armand knew this well, he could not resist and would jump in, causing Lestat's hilarity, and Marius' disbelief. It almost seemed as if his Master was hurt by it, and Armand felt guilty, but at the same time, he could not find the words to explain himself to Marius. And he didn't want to, to tell the truth, his pride and temperament required no explanation, Marius knew and understood. And this silent agreement between the two of them was all Armand needed, especially to have an excuse from time to time, to kick Lestat.

#Marius/Armand #Marius de Romanus #Armand #OTP #Headcanon #Thanks for reading!

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bloodgutzandchocolatecake · 2 months

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been drawing vocaloid nonstop who knew 11 year old me's hyperfixation would be the cure to my art block

#e speaks

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theblackphoenixwritings · 4 months

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#marius de romanus #armand #marius/armand #OTP #headcanon #my writing #VC

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kumamedia · 5 years

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Nell, you’ve-- got something on your face there--

#nell #nell shenanigans #she's got a sweet tooth #i've been doing digital art all week #who knew all i needed to cure my digital art block was to mess around with brush settings #i'm a little upset at this discovery #but at least i'm drawing again haha

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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ML au I thought of while bored at work I think you'll enjoy:

Toward the end of the school year preceding the one Origins started, Marinette befriends Juleka, and ends up spending a good portion of the summer hanging out with her, and by extension, Luka. Over the summer Luka and Marinette develop feelings for each other, and by the time Origins comes around Marinette is planning on asking Luka out, making a gift for him and hyping herself up to finally ask him when they hang out after the first day of school. Everything goes similar to cannon, with the exception of the gift Marinette made getting damaged during the first Stone heart attack (it gets fixed when she uses the Miracle Cure the first time). There might also be a change where she considers Luka as the best choice to be the Ladybug Miraculous holder, but things still play out in a way that she chooses to be Ladybug. The end is where things get much more cannon divergent, with the Umbrella Scene being replaced by Marinette, brimming with confidence and maybe a bit of left over adrenaline after telling off a super villain and being an awesome superhero, takes off, running through the rain to get to the Liberty, and we get a cute scene of Marinette asking Luka out, and finding out Luka was also planning on asking her out and wrote a song for her.

So we just get Lukanette being the adorable couple they are for the whole series. Also, I just realized that skipping the whole Umbrella Scene means Adrien never gets to clear the air with Marinette about the gum incident, so she's probably won't be very friendly with him for a while.

YES YES YES.

ALL OF MY YES!!!

And if I may add to this (hopefully you don’t mind!), imagine that Marinette befriending Juleka was because of the picture in “Reflekta;” the one from a previous year where Juleka and Marinette (who had a bun and blue capris at the time) shared a class.

Marinette approaches Juleka later in that same week before class, a little shy and holding something in her hands. Juleka looks over Marinette, a little put off (this is Chloe’s main target after all; she’s not sure she wants to be involved with her), but then Marinette lowers what she’s holding for Juleka to see.

Juleka’s eyes widen.

“Um,” Marinette begins, “I know it’s not much, but I saw that Max’s hand blocked your face in the class photo, so I took a copy and edited it so your face was showing.” When Juleka doesn’t immediately respond, she gets nervous and stammers, “S-sorry if it’s kind of weird. I mean--I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but I still knew your face because you’re really pretty and do you model at all because--please say something so I can stop talking--”

“Thank you,” Juleka cuts in, her voice still quiet but also very genuine.

Marinette blinks, surprised; people usually have to strain their ears to understand Juleka, who is known for mumbling, but her voice could apparently be incredibly clear when she wanted it to be. “Y...you’re welcome.”

“Can I... have it...?“ Juleka asks, a bit hesitantly, her hand reaching for the picture like it’d burst into flames if she touched it.

“Huh? O-oh yeah! of course! I did it for you, so--” Marinette quickly hands it over.

Juleka takes it and stares at it, truly able to appreciate her appearance without needing a mirror flipping her look. She even moves her bangs aside with her free hand, wanting to appreciate it with both eyes.

“...It’s good,” she says, a bit awkwardly but she means it. “Um... you do this a lot?”

“Ah--” Marinette blushes. “Yeah, sort of? It’s uh--just a hobby though. I really like designing so I do all sorts of art and--”

She starts rambling a bit, but that’s fine because Juleka needs a moment to gather her thoughts. She feels lame for getting so emotional over a picture but she’s just so happy. Sure, it’s not “real” but it looks real and it’s the closest thing she’s ever gotten to a successful picture.

“...Can I see?” she finally manages to ask, letting her bangs drop back down.

Marinette stops talking, hearing what she said but not registering. “What?”

“Your designs,” she mumbles as she shifts awkwardly in place, feeling a little shyer now and internally panicking at having put herself out there.

In an instant, Marinette’s eyes light up. “Y...yeah, yeah! Definitely! I--” She covers her mouth and looks around sheepishly, realizing how loud she’s being. Quieting down, she hurriedly adds, “M-maybe after class? It’s starting soon, but we could meet after--if that’s okay--”

“Yeah,” Juleka replies, her eyes drawing back to the picture. Then, more confidently, she repeats, “Yeah.”

#category: positivity #ML Mixed Picture AU #relationship: Juleka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain Cheng #other: ask and answer #((hi i adore them and need them in my life))

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hellyeahbakubby · 3 years

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“just a drawing” | sero h.

♔ - Running an NSFW art patreon, the reader has lost their motivation. Maybe Sero can help them find their inspiration, or be it. {wc: 1870} pairings - sero hanta x reader tags - SUGGESTIVE ONESHOT, mentions of sex, nothing explicit but be warned, fluffy bf sero, like I want boyfriend sero, pls, gimme a/n - thank you for requesting this, I had a really fun time writing it, and even though it took a while to put out I hope you enjoy it :) masterlist ▬ WARNING: SLIGHT NSFW, nothing explicit or graphic but proceed responsibly if you are under the age of 16.

For weeks now, your inspiration had abandoned you and your motivation extended to nothing more than staring at a blank screen. The hundreds of suggestions from your avid followers had begun to pile up and the hope you had of actually drawing something had been lost. None of the characters that usually stirred you to create were giving you any enthusiasm and you feared that you’d lost your spark for good.

“Hey,” Hanta greeted you as he entered the room, munching on his lunch, “Whatcha up to?”

Flicking around to face him, you instinctively flipped your tablet to your chest as if to hide the screen. “Just some drawing,” you replied as if you’d actually made any progress

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately, huh,” he said leaning again the doorframe, digging his fork back into his dish, “Working on something big?”

“Uh, not really, just drawing,” you lied, smiling up at him. He smiled back. You sighed, you were getting nowhere with your drawing. Sitting there, lying about your progress to your boyfriend was just dumb. “Except I haven't been able to draw for weeks. I’ve lost my mojo for good.”

He watched your shoulders slump at the admission and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic to your cause. He knew just how much you admired creativity and to have lost your own would be weighing on you more than a bit. “I’m sure it won’t be forever, babe,” he said coming to sit in the chair beside you. Turning in his chair so his body was facing you, he placed a warm, reassuring hand on your knee. “Maybe instead of just sitting staring at your screen, we should go get you some inspiration. Yeah?”

You stared down at the device in your hands, the blank screen. Hanta went back to chewing. He watched your expression avidly. You were always so cute which only made seeing you so down worse. So used to your usually happy attitude around him, he wanted to fix whatever was bugging you.

Taking a deep breath in, “Yeah,” you said. He grinned.

“Nice. Why don’t we just go for a walk? And since I’ve got patrol tonight we can grab dinner after. Sound good?”

“Yup.” Even if you didn’t manage to find any inspiration you were grateful to be spending time with him. Since his schedule wasn’t exactly a typical 9 to 5 he was often working resulting in you being able to spend less time with him.

“I’ll finish my lunch then we can be off,” he said, “There’s a new park across the city that I saw last night. It’s beautiful, plus lots of flowers and stuff that might spark something.”

You smiled up at him. “Sounds good.” He was so considerate. You’d really lucked in with this one. And although you really needed to post on your patreon, maybe drawing something basic for yourself first would help get you back in that mindset. Leaving your tablet behind you went to get a drink before you left the house.

Hanta had been right. This park was beautiful. The grass was greener than you’d ever seen in person. The trees that edged the park created an atmosphere that separated the park from the outside world. It was its own little world. And the flowers. Hundreds of them. All different colours and types. The variety was astounding. You blinked a couple of times, making sure what you were seeing was real. It was captivating.

“Cool, huh?” he said with a cheeky smirk. Watching your expressions made him chuckle. He was secretly relieved that your mood had taken such a dramatic change.

“Real cool,” you said softly, nodding. You turned back to him and smiled. Throwing your arms around his neck you pulled him into a suffocating hug, kissed his cheek. He returned the hug with a laugh, wrapping his own arms around your waist in turn. Holding you in place after you loosened your grip he looked at you, thoroughly enjoying the spark of joy in your irises. “Thanks, babes,” you said.

“Anytime, doll,” he said before placing a kiss on your nose, “How about we go walk around and you can get some photos, eh?”

“Of course.”

Not a second after you’d taken his hand and begun to walk down the path when you heard someone call out from behind you. Both you and Hanta turned to look.

“Cellophane! Wait! Please!” A young woman ran towards the both of you, only slowing to halt right in front of you. She looked utterly exhausted, panting heavily.

“You’re… you’re my favourite Pro,” she managed to get out, standing up straight and looking up at Hanta with a look of admiration you’d never seen before. “Would you mind taking a photo with me?” she pleaded.

“Oh, sure,” he said with a smile, letting go of your hand to stand beside her as she pulled out her phone, “It’s nice to meet you.” She blinked at him in awe, her cheeks reddening.

“You too,” she squeaked out. Holding up the phone as he leaned in to get in the frame, she snapped a couple of photos.

You were oddly surprised by how you felt watching the interaction. It wasn’t jealousy or any sort of possessiveness. You knew that it was just an interaction between a fan and a hero so it wasn’t like she was gonna make any moves, or rather that he simply wasn’t interested. Instead, it was almost like a realisation. You were that lucky person, that lucky fan, who got to hold him, who got to be held by him. Your life was someone else’s fantasy, it was your own fantasy. There it was.

You knew exactly what you were going to draw to get your rhythm back.

“You good there?” Hanta asked returning to you as his fan walked away, every now and again turning back as if making sure he was real. “You look a bit zoned out.”

“Always,” you replied with full sincerity, squeezing his hand. His lips curled up at your response.

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine, just thinking,” you said, taking his hand again.

“About me?” he joked.

As Hanta retrieved his hero costume, preparing himself for the night of hero work ahead, you returned to your drawing room, knowing exactly what the finished work was going to be. You were one hundred per cent assured that this would cure your art block and although you had no intention of posting it, you were both anxious and excited for the one person you’d show it to, to see it.

Peeping his head around the doorframe, he grinned at seeing you already back to work. He did feel responsible for your returning motivation and was delighted with his achievement.

“I’m off now, babe,” he said. You got up, placing a kiss to his cheek for good luck before pulling his face towards your own. Pressing your lips to his, you relaxed momentarily into his arms. He was so warm, all-encompassing. You felt so safe with him, so secure, so free of judgement. He was everything you’d ever wished for and so much more.

“Be careful,” you said, running a finger down his cheek.

“Whatever you say,” he gushed, leaning to kiss your forehead.

“See ya later, handsome.”

Walking him to the door, no sooner than he was gone you were back at your desk, sketching out the picture already finished in your head. You were almost surprised you’d never thought to draw something of this flavour before. God, just thinking about it made you flush. He was a well-known, well-desired Pro-hero; surely you weren’t the first person to concoct such a lewd creation of him. And well, it wasn’t like you were a stranger to him. You knew him up close and personal and you knew exactly what made him tick. You’d never post such a thing but you couldn’t think to draw anything else now that the idea was in your head. Not to mention you couldn’t help but imagine his reaction when he saw the finished product.

Stretching your muscles, you turned in your bed, waking slowly. Hanta wasn’t beside you despite having said he’d return at around four am but it didn’t worry you. He usually fell asleep on the couch, even after telling him countless that you didn’t mind him waking you when he came home. You made your way down the hall, careful to miss stepping on the floorboard that always groaned under your weight. If Hanta was indeed asleep on the couch you didn’t want to wake him. You knew how much hero work took out of him, especially if he’d had a busy night.

Creeping into your drawing room to continue working on your piece your heart plummeted to your stomach when you saw the empty space on your desk where you’d had your tablet last night. Come to think of it you didn’t remember going to bed which could only mean that Hanta had moved you to your bedroom after you’d fallen asleep midway through drawing. Oh god, that meant he had your tablet.

“Fuuuck,” you heard him drawl from behind you. Frowning you spun around.

“What?” you said before you saw your tablet in his hands and you felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“That’s my line right, babe?” he teased, tongue between his teeth, “At least that’s what I’m saying in this drawing, aren’t I?”

“I…” you couldn’t find any words.

“No, no. Your line’s ‘Oh please, god’ and then I think you’re meant to moan.”

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn’t know what to say.

“It’s a really good drawing, just not what I expected.” He returned his gaze to the image in front of him. Although he was hiding it really well you noticed the pink tips of his ears.

“You… inspired me,” you said sheepishly.

“Clearly,” he said grinning again, “Just not in the way I thought I did.” You scowled at him.

“I just needed something to get my motivation back.”

He looked up. “Huh? Oh, I’m not complaining. I just didn’t know you drew this kinda stuff, makes sense why you hide your drawings from me. I mean bondage? Heh. Kinky.”

“Stoppp,” you begged, one hand on your face in embarrassment. You inhaled, trying to steady yourself. “It’s just a drawing,” you said defensively.

“Pretty sexy drawing though,” he mumbled. You looked up at him. His flushed cheeks said more than his words as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“If I knew what you wanted I would’ve given you a different kinda inspiration.” He was definitely as nervous about the whole thing as you were. He placed the tablet on the pile of boxes by the door. “I mean I’m happy to help you out.”

“Really?” you replied softly, “That’s sweet of you.” You sent him a sly grin and he swallowed quickly. He reached out, grabbing you by the hips.

“‘Just a drawing’,” he said mocking what you’d said earlier, “You gonna show me your others.”

“Maybe later,” you said in his ear as he lifted you onto your desk,

“Right now I’m feeling the inspiration for something different.”

#sero hanta #sero x reader #sero smut #sero x you #sero bnha #sero mha #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x you #sero hanta x y/n #sero hanta mha #sero hanta bnha #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader

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cyberstatic-fox · 2 years

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Honestly the fact that a giant part of FNAF's audience are kids is a bit... Disheartening, considering that made the content more child-friendly too. Well, as much as game like this can be haha... A lot of dancing around things and only implying it sometimes, even in language.

Says I, who's been a fan for years and is only turning 20 this year.

Hopefully I'll figure it out soon enough lol.

That said, man do I feel ya on this whole "creativity" thing. I'm writing my own fnaf sb fic, just for my own personal entertainment and not for posting, and I've only written the first chapter and a chapter set quite far into the future cuz I had an idea for it. Cuz I'm still trying to figure out what exactly I actually wanna do. I've got NO idea what I'm doing and how to take the plot where I want it, and what to stuff inbetween. Hard to think of the finer parts in the story and the interactions.

Hopefully I'll figure this out soon lol.

And then there's an additional problem of "I don't feel like drawing", which is a huge deal when it's your job.

All that is to say, take your time! It's really no problem to wait, I understand how it feels, and I'm sure everyone else does too. I don't think there's any need to rush, I'm sure you'll get out of this funk soon enough.

Sorry if I made any typos it's 5 AM and I don't pay attention :D

yeah it's really funny as a newer fan cuz like. half the fandom is tired college students which is pretty standard, and then half is 13yo children talking abt going to high school soon. it blows my mind lmfao this is the most bizarre fandom ive been in yet

(esp considering im mid-20s lmfao i feel like an old fart next to all these fans who literally grew up on fnaf)

it's also funny how ive been able to draw lately but not write considering ive had art block for the past forever lmfao as it turns out the cure to stagnation is to embrace your inner cringe, who knew

#maintenance #ask #like on the one hand kids can be super nice cuz theyre just happy to see content #but on the other i feel obligated to be sfw around them and it frightens me #theres a reason i dont want kids u feel me

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byorder-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Finn’s Lost Loves

Summary: Finn’s lost more than anyone else knew because of the war, and every stupid thing his family have done afterwards to keep themselves in charge.

Word count: 2019

Warnings: Mentions war and blood, talks about eating disorder, self harm and self-esteem, and homophobia (only a little bit, period accurate), a lot of toxic masculinity

Author’s note: This is a lot of angst with little bits of fluff and a sad ending. Sorry. It’s basically an overview of Finn’s character, backstory and his relationships with the family that we’ve never gotten to see! It’s based off a piece of prose in my drafts, so if you guys like this, I might post that as well. Hope you enjoy, and please comment, I love hearing your opinions and any constructive criticism you might have xx

Finn loved books. Once upon a time, he really did. He loved the way Tommy did the voices, and Arthur made those wild motions with his hands, and John could always make him laugh as he told him about that thing that happened in the pub last week. He loved how Ada and Polly would tuck him up in bed, place a kiss on his temple and read the letters from the boys. Then they came back, and he didn’t need to read letters. Or books. Or anything really. Soon, he didn’t even go to school. He just wanted to be with his brothers. Now they tell him to piss off more than they beg him to stay. Tommy and Polly scold him for not being able to read off the betting boards, and John makes everyone else laugh when he holds a big volume under Finn’s nose, so that everyone knew that Finn was still illiterate. Finn hates books.

Finn loved Church. He didn’t need Polly to drag him by the heels as he sobbed under the Virgin Mary’s stare like his brothers when he hopped, skipped and a jumped all his way down the road. He always sat by Isaiah, the two boys out-screaming each other in the hymns and seeing who Polly would scold first. He wore the crucifix everyday, and treated his rosary with all the sacred carefulness a six year old could manage. He loved the psalms and Jeremiah’s voice ringing through the streets and the way everyone was always together (even Charlie) on Sunday. Then he had to light candles, praying for his brothers’ safety that was only answered with their damnation as they dragged back blood and French mud into Watery Lane. Now he cries through the paper thin pages of a Bible and his only prayers are that the boys never see his tears. What did he have to cry about after all? He was never a soldier, but he should learn to be a man. Finn hates Church.

Finn loved healing. Ada dragged him along to her nursing classes and soon his only reason to come to Church was to learn how to tie bandages and fix up cuts and bruises. No one noticed his long absences- they either assumed he went to school still, or they were far too busy with the race tracks to care for the whereabouts of their youngest brother. But then he'd slipped up, and he'd never seen his brothers laugh so hard when he proudly told Polly he was going to be a nurse one day. Even his aunt and sister, usually the ones on his side, had to purse their lips together as Arthur roared out: "Hear that, Tom? We got ourselves a Nurse Shelby here! Want a dress and hat to go with it?" He told them all to fuck off and stamped out, but he didn't understand what he said that was so funny. When he asked Isaiah, who had just turned fourteen and starting to see Finn less and less, he just said that being a nurse was a woman's job. He didn't like being laughed at for being a girl, but he didn't know why. He still hoarded textbooks about anatomy and the like under his bed, tracing over the detailed pictures with his skeleton finger as he wished. And wished. And wished. And almost prayed that he could read the little ink words. When he found Arthur with another red line on his neck, he offered him some medicine to cure his big brother's blues, thinking just a bit of Tokyo would keep his brother here with him. No one asked why Finn was sad. Oh well, at least he could protect his brothers now. Finn hates healing. Finn loved food. Always the big eater in the Shelby household, he managed to always have a full stomach despite the poverty that reigned. He was a stickler for sweets, though, and as soon as he mastered the art of sneaking rings and wallets from unsuspecting strangers, he soon graduated to thieving lollipops and boiled sweets and even some toffees that he proudly deposited into his aunt's hand with a toothy grin. But the boys would look into his empty plate and his skinny frame and tell him he'd better watch out, soon he might actually have a shape under those bulky clothes. They always laughed, and he felt himself completely embarrassed at the dinner table. He dumped more sugar than milk into his tea and stole chips when they went to the seaside. He'd always offer to share, wanting to provide for them for once, but they'd tell him he was the one who needed it. He sees his ribs and the little vertebrae of his spine and wonders why can't he just be strong like his brothers. Even though he despises it, he picks up boxing to fill out his form. Maybe training with Isaiah was an extra benefit, but the older boy had long since talked to Finn on the regular, and made a point to laugh at him when he fell onto the floor. So, Finn graduated from second helpings of lunch and too-sweet tea to the sour delights of whiskey and cigarettes. Just like his brothers. Finn hates food. Finn loves his family. He loves Polly, the mother he never had, and will never feel like he does enough to repay her for his entire childhood. Then Michael came back, and soon there wasn't any chore lists on the downstairs table for someone to read out for him, or little check ups throughout the day as she makes sure he's okay. That was when he realised exactly why Polly raised him in her empty arms. He loves Arthur: his eldest brother, who used to lift him up on his shoulders and teach him to draw. Finn still has faded old pictures of galloping stallions (signed in block letters: A.W.S) slipped between the filled out pages of the sketchbooks he hides in his wardrobe. Then Arthur came back, with what everyone calls Flanders Blues, but no one explains, and Finn feels like he's losing his brother everyday when he comes back smelling like a brewery with blood on his fists. Finn loves Tommy. A father figure to him, the kind of man he wants to be when he grows up. But then Greta died and Tommy went to war, and the man who took him horse riding every weekend was gone, and this Tommy was colder. Finn loves John as the best friend he's ever had, always laughing together, giving sometimes useful advice and finding days to just spend time with each other. Despite John's bazillion kids, widowerhood, and then his new wife, he's always had time to spare for his little brother. John was the one who told him what bisexual was when he found Finn sobbing in his room, he was the one that took him to the doctor when he passed out from malnutrition, and he's the one that made him swear to never use razor blades on himself again. Finn loves Ada. He sees why Freddie calls her an angel, and used to love it when she pretended to take Finn to the library when in fact they were both slipping away to a Communist meeting, which would usually end up in Ada and Freddie slipping away and leaving Finn in the trusted supervision of leftist radicals that he happily chatted away to. Ada always took care of him, making sure he was never involved in the business (on either side) and telling him that being a soldier is a life sentence, not an honour. He lives because Ada keeps him safe and sane. Then Ada leaves. Finn hates the Shelby name that everyone screams at him like a condemnation, that invites slurs and hatred that only he gets because he doesn't look like a proper Shelby man. Finn hates his family. Finn loved Isaiah. A childhood crush that brought butterflies to his stomach and blushes to his freckled face. He sketched the boy's face so many times, he knew it by memory. They held hands when they were chased down the streets, laughing and sprinting as their spoils stayed securely in their pockets. But Isaiah was older than him. Soon after adolescence hit the Jesus boy and Peaky Blinders offered him a role, without the constant of Church, the two greatest of friends became almost strangers to one another. But Finn still loved him. He never told anyone, of course. He knew he wasn't a real homosexual, because he most certainly did enjoy holding hands and kissing the cheeks of girls his age (poor boy was flustered to ever do more!) but his heart still belonged to the preacher's boy. With more faithful women in the family than ever before, Finn knew he would be crucified if he ever told anyone. John was the only one who knew, and that was based on the fact he paid more attention to his brother than anyone else combined. He said he should just go for it, but Finn knew Isaiah couldn't be like him. And even if Jeremiah was always the kindest man that Finn ever met, he still didn't trust that the cross on his neck wouldn't shame him or laugh at him for the fact he was completely enamoured with his son. Then Finn got drunk, and when he woke up, his entire family knew exactly how he felt and Isaiah wouldn't look at him in the eye. He ran away to the stables, crying on Uncle Charlie's shoulder who told it would be alright. He made sure to keep an eye on Finn ever since, keeping an eye on his wrists and fists. The incident was soon forgot by everyone but him. Finn couldn't find it in him to hate Isaiah, but he knew he didn't love him any more. Finn has never loved Michael. He thought he could, at first, when he saw the tweed suit and a face more innocent than his. But then Tommy promoted him almost on the spot, and Finn had never at once felt so much rage bubble inside him. Everything he has done for his brothers, every passion he sacrificed, every humiliation he shouldered, just so they could see him as an equal. But no, there are only three Shelby brothers as far as anyone else is concerned, and Finn carries on as errand boy. He ignores all Ada's good advice, and swear that he will make his brothers proud of him one day. So, he puts on the thorn crown of a Peaky cap and wears the waistcoat and wool coat of his brother's likeness, and parades about Small Heath like he actually was apart of the makeshift royal family. Then Finn found Michael and Isaiah kissing in the alleyway. Even though Finn had made a point to announce that his brothers had started giving him more work, Isaiah still fucked off to the pub with Michael every night, devoting his time and attention to only him, and Finn couldn't understand why. Now he did. If Finn had been violent like Arthur, he certainly wouldn't have thought twice about taking the cup on his curls and cutting the smirk off of his cousin. He had stolen his brothers' respect, his surrogate mother's attention, his place in the business, the affections of the one boy Finn had ever loved. He had stolen Finn's everything, and Finn hated him. They both froze and stuttered. Excuses about just being friends, just experimenting, but he saw the way they held each others shaking hands just as he and Isaiah used to hold onto each other as they raced through the streets. "I'm glad you're together." He shocked them both with a forced smile. "You both deserve to be happy." The two were kinder to him after that, almost back to the old friendship he had missed, and Finn knew he didn't hate Michael. Or Isaiah. Or any of his family, really. No, Finn hated himself.

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rosiegeee · 3 years

Text

Final Chapters of my Harry Potter Re-Write Are Out

Special thanks for chapter 15 to my brother who helped me write the chess scene. Anyway here are some passages from all three chapters:

Chapter 15: Through the Trapdoor

Harry took a deep breath, although Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor, Harry had learned her to be fair, strict, but fair. He decided the only way to get through to her was to tell as much of the truth as possible.

'We know about the Philosopher's Stone, and we have come across a plot to steal it, we need to warn Dumbledore.'

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms but she didn't pick them up.

'How do you know-?' she spluttered.

'There is no time for that, we know that who wants to steal it knows how to get by at least two of the charms below the trap door, and we know they know know how to get by Fluffy the dog, and that they have just been waiting for Dumbledore to get out of the way. Professor, I think the owl was a fake, I think the thief plans on stealing the Stone today or tonight.'

She eyed him with complete shock, but she seemed to believe him.

'Harry, you have got to tell me how you know all this, then I can know how to help.'

This was a road block however, he couldn't mention how he knew about the stone as that would almost certainly lose Hagrid his job and despite his biases Harry liked Hagrid, he also couldn't mention that it is Snape as she would assume he was just angry at his head of house, and he couldn't say Voldemort as she wouldn't believe him. Harry hung his head low.

'I-I, it's one of the teachers, that is all I can say.'

'Who Harry?'

Chapter 16: The Man With Two Faces

Harry couldn’t take it in. It couldn’t be true. Sirius had said he knew Quirrell in school, and unlike when he mentioned Snape or his family he talked about Quirrell with no animosity.

‘But Snape tried to kill me!’

‘No, no, no. I tried to kill you. When your friend Miss Davis cast that Titillando jink on Snape he ended up knocking me over, which I think he did on purpose. It broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I’d have gotten you flung off your broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn’t been muttering a counter-cure, trying to save you.’

‘Snape was trying to save me?’

‘Of course,’ said Quirrell coolly. ‘Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn’t do it again. Funny really...he needn’t have bothered. I couldn’t do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Ravenclaw winning, he did make himself unpopular...and what a waste of time, when after all that, I’m going to kill you tonight.’

Chapter 17: All's Well That Ends Well

‘HARRY!’

The three of them dashed to his side. Tracey gave him a hug which despite appreciating, still hurt his sore body.

‘Harry you did it, but we were so scared.’

‘You and Allison were unconscious for so long.’

‘But now the entire school is talking about what you did on Friday,’ said Allison. ‘But every tale sounds different, Theo filled me in on what happened after I was knocked out, but what happened once you went through the fire.’

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the Mirror; the Stone and Voldemort. The trio were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places and, when Harry told them what was under Quirrell’s turban, Theodore let out a fearful squeal.

‘So the Stone has been destroyed?’ said Tracey finally. ‘That means Flamel will die?’

‘That’s what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that-what was it?-“to the well-organised mind, death is But the next great adventure”.’

Suddenly Allison started laughing, ‘The old man has lost it, good for him.’ And they all had a chuckle.

‘So what happened to you three?’ asked Harry.

‘Well, once Theodore emerged I ran back to the key room and got the brooms like you said, and the two of us were carefully bring Allison back when Dumbledore came flying in.’

‘He just looked at us and said, “Harry’s gone after him, hasn’t he?” and sped by us. Anyway we managed to get Snape’s attention, that was a surprise, and he helped bring McGonagall and Allison to Madam Pomfrey. McGonagall woke up not long after dawn, and Allison finally came to that afternoon.’

‘I still got the bump to show what I did.’

They continued talking and catching up, Harry just felt better being with his friends. Tracey finally broke the knees about the house cup.

‘We’re in last place, Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor in Quidditch, not enough to take away the quidditch championship from us, but enough to pull ahead in the school points system.’

Keep reading chapter 15 here or here, 16 here or here, and 17 here or here

Art under the cut

Here is all the art done for the book, the art is by @noktoraspali and @letraspal respectively.

Drawing of Allison Runcorn and her cat Shabaz

Drawing to celebrate Canini coming out, I love Canini so much and I hope to write about her more in the future.

And This is Harry coming home for Easter break, it is so sweet and I love all three of these drawings so much. You two are amazing artists.

#Harry Potter #wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #hogwarts #slytherin #runcorn #terence higgs #theodore nott #tracey davis #trans #trans rights #fuck jk rowling #snape #severus snape #Quirinus Quirrell #voldemort #mtf

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valorxdrive · 4 years

Note

1, 7, 9 for the character questions

1. Death is an inevitable part of life. What is your character’s experience with death? Have they had someone close to them die? Have they ever killed someone? How did these events affect them? Have they been able to move on? What do they believe happens to people when they die? And why? How does your character feel about death? Do they feel at ease, or uncomfortable with the idea of dying?

For Sora, the concept of death gained a much more intimate meaning once he found himself forcefully venturing from the world of Destiny Islands. During the more sensitive years of his childhood it was known in passing for people but much more when it comes to animals. Food that he eats, pets of friends that passed on and in more rare instances the grandparents of said friends, the true impact of it had never struck deep at this point.

At best it remained a distant fear, a wary subject as he understood that death was meant to be avoided for himself, the people he cares for and all for his island home in general.

Fast forward to the days of when he becomes a wielder of the Keyblade and it changes exponentially. His first days upon Traverse Town and he practically watches the heart of some poor sucker get ripped clean from the chest. Death was both wielded by his hand and constantly drawing it’s cold edges upon his neck through ever possible attack made by the foot soldiers of darkness to actual people. Heartless managed to hold less of a critical dent in terms of slaying them. They were unnatural forces of one’s heart, some malevolent energy given form, his conscious hadn’t suffered nowhere as much in knowing he’s slaying beast compared to flesh and blood humans.

Skip forward a bit more and now he’s doing exactly that. For Sora the first kill (even if he hadn’t brought down the final strike) would be against Clayton from Tarzan’s world. He’s both sustained a more naturally made injury through buckshot and also come to see a human drawn into depravity basically get crushed before his eyes. For my interp this specific end had led Sora to be sleepless for days on end. It was the first genuine lesson in holding the weight of a life within his hands. Despite how despicable, how deplorable and just plain sick they were in their goals, it never changed who he did vanquish in order to save a world.

It was through these same intense feelings of both knowing the loss of life deeper than before, to let that blood be on his hands, at the same time come understand the crucial aspect in protecting it had allowed Cure magic to be fostered in the depths of his heart.

Sora genuinely needed time and the support of others during that time, from Jane, Tarzan alongside of Donald and Goofy to help pick himself back up on his feet. While it was never truly solved nowhere close to completion, they managed to instill the resolve through both reasoning of why he did fight, what he was also continuing to fight for in order to give him the strength to continue.

In the aftermath of the first he found the aspect while chilling, understandable in the cases where it has been performed. By no means does he EVER resort to killing as the first option when endless alternatives can come to be.

Follow through the journey of Kingdom Hearts and it’s witnessed that he’s never two steps away from it. From slaying Heartless, battle with Organization XIII and coming to learn of Nobodies, Sora lives a life of peril and this element he’s come to accept if he intends to truly make things right. In a way the more he’s come to refine the art in the name of necessity, he’s grown to be substantially desensitize to people drawing the worst of their powers and weaponry in order to tear him apart. He’s not ignorant to fear, he simply gained the courage to keep a strong and steady heart in the face of such adversity.

In terms of having those close to him die? Yes and no. Sora’s previously conceived ideas throughout his adventures that through death, you come to create a Heartless and Nobody is given a hard shake of truth. Somehow this is just some wayward method of reincarnation if you get slayed by either a Heartless or torn through with a Keyblade. The real path to death does exist as he’s come to learn within The Final World. Through the guidance of Chirithy he’s come to learn about how you can even face oblivion down to a conceptual state. Him alongside all the Guardians really could’ve bit the dust.

For Sora this was a point in his life while he needed the strength to go on, he’s faced an incredible abyss of despair. Even with the foreknowledge that a certain someone was keeping him and herself tethered to reality, the fact they’ve been torn apart down to these spiritual remnants deeply disturbed him. However facing the brunt of all that would do more harm then good at this time. While a chance hung in the balance, he needed hope and belief to bring himself back onto his feet, to bring him back up even as death’s kiss remained a fraction away from claiming him and all of his friends. Receiving this harsh lesson truly emboldened his selfishness when it comes to prevent death from befalling those that he cares for if it’s within his power.

This is what leads him to outright abusing the Power of Waking. He didn’t have to think twice on the idea of giving them a second chance of life if it’s within his power. Beyond that? There was a whole universe that also hung in the balance, newly made friends he knew were going to be next on the chopping block of the keyblade war. It would be the Princesses of Heart next upon Xehanort’s list and he refused to let these abominable acts to continue.

On one hand while he has obtained a degree of courage to face death directly within it’s eyes. His fear hadn’t went away, he doesn’t want to lose his life any earlier then he has too. If the motto of an ‘Eye for an eye’ reaches out in the name of saving another however, he won’t hesitate. If Sora knows there’s a method where there isn’t no sacrifice involved to save another, he’ll instantly go for it. However like in the case of Kairi, if this dangerous, volatile if used wrong power is the only way to ensure to can continue living on?

He’s going to face any price to ensure you’re okay.

In the end he accepts that with life, there is also death, he’s simply in the park that people can live long and happy lives before having to make peace with that part of living. As it currently stands he feels incredibly uncomfortable at the idea of dying when there’s so much to live for. This is a big reason too as to why he fights.

#blackasteriia #| Bottle Mail #| HCs #| Meme #GINA I CAN'T DROP A MEGA WORDBOMB OUT HERE. lol #I might have to take in one number a time per post with these #death tw

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melyaliz · 5 years

Text

Scribbles

Fandom: Marvel / X-men Movies

Summary: Soulmate AU where whatever they write on their skin goes on their soulmates and person A keeps drawing dicks because they think it’s funny that they will show up on person B. and person B having to constantly cover them up and like “who the FUCK is this asshole!”

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x OC

Notes: First off yes, I know I have a few requests and this isn’t one of them but… I was inspired (Like 8 pages inspired)

Gemma is my new oc that I am working on at the moment I’ll probably post her character sheet soon plus MAYBE finish her full story.

Anyway, she grew up in a pretty christen household (thinking she may be a pastor's daughter) And I totally HC that Peter is TOTALLY the kind of guy who would draw on himself.

So the image of like Gemma having to go to church with a HUGE dick on her arm and has to wear a sweater in summer and stuff was just too funny to pass up on.

I honestly didn’t know how to end this so I just kind of did?

Promise requests will be coming soon :D

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

———--------------------------------------------------

Peter had already been suspended from writing on textbooks and his desk and with his notebook confiscated there was nothing left but his arm.

Freedom of expression man.

Plus the monster eating the freckle on his left arm was tiring out really good.

“Mr. Maximoff, do you have anything of value to add to our discussion today?”

“Huh?”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter frowned his brown eyes scanning the board for a moment taking in the information before glancing over at Karen’s notes. Pride and prejudice was as boring as it sounded. Wasn’t that kind of a chick book anyway?

“Yeah, I’m good” Peter added putting his hands behind his back as his teacher his arm and art clearly visible for the teacher to see just to prove his defiance to this book.

However, the teacher didn’t react and just went back to the front of the class.

Confused Peter looked at his arm.

It was blank.

-*-

“Gemma what did you do to your arm!?!”

Gemma glanced down at her arm, the sleeve of her rolled up Catholic school uniform visibly showed the dark drawings of monsters eating helpless woman. “Uhhh I…”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go to that Iron Maiden concert,” her mother and school’s math teacher said grabbing her daughter pulling her toward the bathroom. “Your body is a temple”

“Mom I promise? I have no idea how I got this!”

Her mother paused for a moment looking down at her daughter’s arm, the permanent dark images now bleeding down her pale skin making them look even more grotesque.

“I wonder…”

“What Mom?”

“So you didn’t draw on yourself?”

“I mean I have before but this isn’t me I’m not this good. Honest, I know it sounds crazy but it just showed up after science. Bobby was laughing about it and I was so confused.” Gemma adding a little More soap to her arm blowing away a few strands of her white-blonde hair out of her face, “besides I’m not stupid enough to draw demons on my arm at a Catholic school”

“It could be your soulmate”

“Huh?” Gemma turned to her mom who was now rummaging in her bag for something. Once she found it she pulled out her pen handing it to her daughter.

“Write something”

“What happened to my body is a temple?”

“Too late now” her mother laughed motioning to the melting monsters. “Go ahead”

“What should I draw?” Nerves bubbling up inside her. Weird how nervous you can suddenly get.

“Anything you want.”

Growing Gemma placed the pen to her skin pausing for a moment trying to think about what to draw.

HELLO

-*-

Bold block letters running down the length of his arm stopping at his wrist. Peter had already gotten a detention slip for mouthing off to his teacher and was now tapping his pencil on his desk as he sat there. Board out of his mind… until now.

Curious he glanced down at his arm looking over the words now scrolled boldly over his arm.

Interesting.

“Maximoff are we going to have a problem?”

“Nope” came the distracted respond as Peter slowly drew a question mark behind the Hello.

-*-

A simple question mark drew itself next to one of the monsters making him look more inquisitive than scary. Gemma bit her lip trying not to laugh during her English class.

Poor little guy, he was more confused that she was. Probably wondering why she had tried to erase him from her arm.

-*-

Could you not use a permanent marker? These monsters will never come off.

Neat full circles looped across the top of his arm before one of his monsters came back to him in bright pink sharpie. Obviously traced.

Oh, it’s on.

Pulling out his VERY permanent maker Peter started to draw.

-*-

“Shit” Gemma hissed as the huge dick and balls appeared on her hand. The shaft stretching from her hand down to her wrist.

“Miss Gemma? Is there something you would like to say to the class?”

Quickly she hid her hand under her desk “nope.”

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing sister”

“Then pull up your hands” as Gemma slowly planted her hands on the desk the nun gasped “GEMMA!”

“It’s not me!”

“Who else would do that? And when because I don’t remember seeing any phallic images on you before”

“I…”

“Detention”

Tossing her books and supplies into her backpack Gemma stood up walking off to detention, Sister Maryann stopped her handing her a bar of soap. Gemma looked down at it wondering where in the hell she had even been hiding that. Although Sister Maryann was known for washing kids mouths out with soap when they “took the Lord's name in vain” so maybe this was the mouth soap.

-*-

Actual size Bold thick and large lettering hung over a small dick laying limp on the same hand he had drawn his own gorgeous penis drawing.

Which of course, appeared right as he was flirting with Suzie, the cutest girl in school.

“You have something on your hand…” the pretty brunette said nodding toward Peter’s hand which was holding her own as he “explained” the best way to use a joystick on the newest arcade game that had been put in across the street from their high school.

“Are you kidding me!?!” Peter said pulling his hand quickly away, “Freak used permanent marker too”

“What did it say?” Suzie giggled trying to get a look at his hand as her jock boyfriend walked up throwing an arm over her.

“What up Petey?”

“His hand just got this weird mark on it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep, got to go, see you both later fellow classmates,” Peter said saluting before dashing off probably a little faster than he should have.

“This asshole” he hissed as he quickly ran his hand under the water trying to rub it off face slightly flushed with embarrassment over having the girl of his dreams see it. And they had been getting along so well too!

Oh it was on now.

-*-

“This asshole” Gemma laughed as she scrubbed her arm with the hard bar of soap. Leave it to Sister Maryann to have the magic cure for something that shouldn’t be cured. While her hand was now rubbed raw from scrubbing, the large dick was no longer scrolled across her hand and the monsters were all but faded away.

Letting out a triumphant laugh she looked into the mirror a huge smile on her face.

Which faded into shock as her reflection looked back at her.

Her face with a huge twisted mustache drawn across her upper lip.

“SON OF A BITCH!”

Soulmate my ass. This person was the devil incarnate.

-*-

Nothing.

Peter checked everywhere, even stripping down to make sure there wasn’t anything written on… his precious bits.

But no. Nothing came up.

Guess he had won.

Something he through of proudly as he continued to doodle across his arms and legs. He never wrote on his face again and kept things mostly contained.

Although he would draw the occasional risque image in a fun place just to see if he would get a reaction.

Not that he cared.

Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t like the thought of having someone out there that he could always talk to, was always there no matter what was something he wanted.

Nope, not at all.

Although when the cuts and bruises started to form he got a little worried. They got worse as time went on. Large hand size bruises and burns running all over his body. It was as if whoever that was on the other side was part of some fight club or something.

During that time was the only time he truly addressed them.

Are you ok?

-*-

Gemma rubbed her arm nervously as she walked through Xavier's school for gifted children. Led by the man himself it, Charles Xavier.

She didn’t belong here, among the heroes. After being brainwashed to become nothing more than a weapon in some twisted man’s army Gemma felt like the silly catholic school girl who had a closeted love for Heavy Metal music was like a stranger to her. In her place was this strange woman now walking through a fog of uncertainty.

The words Are you ok had almost faded from her arm but she had refused to wash it away. It had been a reminder that morning that something may have been wrong. That maybe those strange dreams she was having and those wounds she was waking up with were maybe not just nothing.

That small warning that had been the tipping point. An almost literal wakeup call that had ended with her coming to this place filled with other mutants. People who had helped set her free from her prison. Break free from the mind control she had been under.

And faced with the reality of what she had unknowingly done under that man’s control she had no idea where to go from there.

Where did she belong?

-*-

It was faint but Peter saw it as she pointed toward the library asking Charles a question. Faded little gray letters, rushed and fast, scribbled across her underarm.

He didn’t need to know what they said, he already knew.

-*-

Turn Around

Gemma blinked in confusion as the bold messy words flashed onto her hand.

What?

How?

Turning she saw him, the speedster, Peter, standing a few feet behind her, a permanent marker in his hand with a huge smile on his face.

“Hello.”

Shock.

It washed over her like cold water.

For years she had wondered who that total ass was who had continued to plague her body with drawings. Her once perfect record marred with endless visits to the principle and detention. Gemma had always been a fly under the radar kind of girl, just be middle of the road and go unseen. Yet all those colorful drawings and even more colorful words had made her stand out in ways she had never dreamed of.

Who was that person? Why were they doing this? How come they didn’t seem to care? After all, it was clear there was someone else was getting marred by those drawings.

A million questions flew through her mind and even more memories.

Yet nothing seemed to come out.

“Bet you never thought you would be this lucky,” Peter said running his fingers through his silver hair. “I mean you basically hit the jackpot of soulmates.”

“You…” her hands flickered with energy, emotions building up inside her spilling out, “total ASS!”

Peter went flying across the hallway as she shot him, not enough to hurt him just kind of give him a taste of what he had been doing to her for the past 8ish years.

“Could you two maybe…. I guess not” Charles groaned as Gemma’s second blast missed a much wiser Peter, blowing up a beautiful 16th-century vase.

“It took me a WEEK to wash off that stupid dick you drew across my chest! And that during prom weekend”

Peter was laughing as he grabbed Gemma taking her outside where they could hash this out somewhere safe.

“So what kind of dress did you wear to prom?” Peter asked looking her over trying to picture it, a cute little red (or maybe blue to match her eyes) dress with a big of black dick drawn up her chest the tip peeking out of the collar.

“A cardigan thanks to you.”

“Awww what’s the fun in that?”

“I went to a Catholic school.”

Peter stood there for a moment the image of her in a little catholic uniform covered in his demon and phallic drawings was just…

Perfect.

“Jesus Christ you didn’t!?!” he doubled over laughing as she watched him trying to fight back a smile. Honestly, after everything she had been through the memories of her trying to scrub off little devils and titties off her arms and legs felt almost…

Comforting.

As annoying as they were, those drawings had kind of been comforting. They set her apart, let her know (as weird as he was) there was someone out there that was all her’s. Yes the dicks and the tits were annoying but there were also some pretty cool song lyrics that had helped her to discover music she hadn’t heard before.

He was like her annoying little secret that broke out away from the everydayness of her very normal life.

Plus she had to admit, it was a pretty funny image looking back.

Not that she would EVER admit any of this to him. At least not right now.

“You owe me big.”

“Oh, Gemma I promise, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling your idea of making it up to me is going to be different than what mean?”

“Maybe being soulmates always means you can read my mind?” he said leaning forward wagging his eyebrows. Gemma couldn’t help but laugh up at him as he took a step back holding out his hand.

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

As she took his hand Gemma had a feeling that much like the first time those little monsters appeared on her arms, her life was going to be filled with many more surprises.

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maonoka · 4 years

Text

“Time Slip”, a ‘MAO’ au

Sooo.... I had this dream... well, a couple dreams, that basically revolved around Heian-era Mao being the soft young man he is, and feisty Nanoka coming along and turning his world upside down. Turned out that scenario became an angsty semi-au, and this fic was born. I don’t plan on leaving it a oneshot - I would love to write more for this. It pains me, cuz it’s gonna get complicated, but I wanna continue this.

Series: MAO

Ratings: T

Pairings: eventual Mao/Nanoka (slooow-buuuuurn)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nanoka shivered, rubbing her bare arms and wishing she’d brought a cardigan with her uniform. It hadn’t been too cold in the modern era, but the moment she’d passed through the gate… well, the sudden burst of panic she'd felt at seeing the other side had left all practical thoughts behind. It was only early October back home, but the air here in the Taisho era was bitter cold. At least… she assumed it was still the Taisho era. Where once had been the rubble of Gougyou town was now empty, desolate farmland. Simple shacks and huts stood next to the gate, which had become a looming red shrine.

Fear had seized her, and at once she took off with a yell. “MAO!” Her white sneakers threw clouds of dust into the dry air as she hurried down the village’s dirt road. “Mao! Otoya!” Nanoka’s blood burned, her skin prickling as she felt her adrenaline pick up. The change was coming, and she welcomed it. Rice paddies and rows of crops sped by as wind whistled in her ears; the cold air didn’t bother her anymore, instead pushing her to run faster and further in her search for her friends. They had to be here. She wouldn’t accept that they weren’t! Whatever had happened to the gate, wherever it had taken her, she wouldn’t let it take them away.

Suddenly the crisp air became tinged with smoke, and Nanoka stumbled to a halt as she caught the smell of incense: this was no peasants fire. Hope bubbled up inside her, hope that perhaps her Onmyouji friend was working some spell to get this place back to normal, to make the gate work like it was supposed to… maybe even to find her. She took off at a steady pace, following the scent with her curse-enhanced senses, veering off the dirt road into thick trees speckled orange and red.

The sun traveled behind clouds high above her, but even behind its harsh white cover, she could tell it would be setting soon. She wished she had her phone, or even the clock on Mao’s clinic wall to tell her the time – but her bag had been dropped at the gate entrance, and the clinic and everything in it vanished. Wherever she was, she didn’t like the idea of being here after dark. Nanoka pressed forward, until the trees began to thin, and new forms began to rise above them: buildings. There were rooftops beyond the farthest trees. Old-fashioned, slanted wooden rafters in a classical mansion style. The closer Nanoka got, the more awed she felt. It was like seeing a samurai castle in its glory days, or stepping into the Tale of Genji. The smell of incense became more powerful, almost overwhelming, and Nanoka slowed her approach.

If this really was a mansion, then whoever maintained it should be able to tell her more about where she was and what had happened to Gougyou town. And if Mao was really the source of the smoke as she hoped… she’d have a thing or two to say to him, and then she’d probably have an embarrassing break down.

Nanoka followed the tendrils of white smoke through the trees surrounding the mansion complex; it spread out in all directions so that she could never really see the edge. But here someone had found the edge after all, and Nanoka crept forward until she spotted a figure seated on the ground outside the building compound, surrounded by candles, ropes, paper, and symbols drawn in the dirt. It was a young man, his broad shoulders stiff and straight and soft voice murmuring over the thin candles in the ground. He wore blue robes in the old Heian style… Nanoka pondered that they looked like the ones Mao had worn when he’d fought the flea-demon-nuns. This man wore his hair similar to Mao’s as well: a long ponytail at his nape – only his hair was jet black and tidy in comparison to the ragged doctor.

She continued to watch in silent fascination as the mysterious man worked various incantations over the materials he’d brought, winding the rope and folding the paper, until Nanoka began to realize he was only making simple wards. From all the smoke and magic she’d thought this would be some grand, miraculous summoning – but this was nothing more than a priest making good luck charms to keep away evil spirits. Nanoka couldn’t help it: she laughed. And suddenly the young man turned around.

The gasp that tore from her throat was painful. All that running in the cold autumn air had been fine – refreshing even! Seeing Mao’s eyes, so bright and young and free of the pain almost a thousand years had inflicted, staring back at her from a face free of scars knocked the wind from her lungs. It was him: unmistakably, undeniably, and yet… it wasn’t. This wasn’t the Mao she had met in the Taisho era as she ran from a giant Mantis, this wasn’t the Mao who had patched up her arm and told her she was an ayakashi. This wasn’t the Mao who had put blood on her cheek and sent crazed demon nuns after her, who had transformed into a beast before her very eyes… who had tried to save her child self, had sent a shikigami to protect her in the future, had asked her to stay with him, even if it was just as an assistant….

Mao continued to watch her shadowed form warily through the trees, and Nanoka swallowed hard. If her guess was correct, this Mao wouldn’t do any of that for another 900 years.

“What are you doing here, Ayakashi?”

She startled. Somewhere in her musings, she’d forgotten that this Mao was still a living, breathing human and not some phantom of the past. “Uh…” she’d also forgotten about the transformation brought by Byouki’s blood… and about Mao’s exorcist duties as an Onmyouji. She was in trouble now. “Look, I’m… I’m not really an ayakashi, okay?” she began, stepping out from the shadowy trees and clutching a hand to her chest. “I’m just a human who got cursed, and… uh…. Excuse me?”

Her explanation ground to a halt as this Heian-era Mao did something Nanoka had never seen her Mao do: he looked her up and down… and blushed a bright pink. Mao turned away slightly, a voluminous sleeve coming up to block his view of her, and a somewhat rushed version of his usual calm voice rang out “Forgive me, miss. I did not realize your state of undress. If you will wait here, I can fetch you something from the mansion. I… apologize, you must be cold as well. You should have a hot drink, as well as a meal.”

Nanoka stood motionless, unable to believe either her ears at his flustered tone or her eyes at his flushed face. The Mao she knew would never have reacted to her uniform like this or shown such concern for her being in a short skirt out in the cold. ‘Of course’, she thought sullenly, ‘I don’t actually know this Mao, do I? I guess a person really changes over 900 years. He’s acting more like Shiraha-kun would than an experienced doctor.’

Mao lowered his arm but refused to look at her, bending instead to gather his materials in preparation to leave. She hoped it would be to find food and clothing for her, but she had to remind herself they’d only met moments ago – he didn’t know her, and she was starting to think she might know him even less. Her mind grappled for something to hold onto, something to tie them together in this foreign place, and she said suddenly “I’m not feeling well.”

He paused in the motion of dousing the incense in the dirt, and very cautiously rose to look back at her. Nanoka gripped the hem of her skirt, biting her lip to hide a smile. That was an expression she recognized: the concern of a doctor for an ailing patient. “It’s this curse I have. Is there anyone here who could help me?”

He stared at her, his brown eyes searching and intense, but after a moment his shoulders slumped and he admitted “This place is not very welcoming of outsiders. I’m afraid you wouldn’t find much help. You see, it’s training grounds for Onmyouji. Demons, ayakashi… they’re not exactly welcome here unless it’s for target practice.” Nanoka saw the slight turn of his lip, and smiled, glad to see his dry humor had always been part of him. “Of course, the way of onmyoudo does include healing arts… it’s not practiced nearly enough as curses. A shame if you ask me.” He turned his head as if this was nothing more than a mild annoyance to him, but Nanoka was starting to see beyond the innocence of this younger Mao. She was starting to recognize a familiar soul, and that soul was crying to help others, not to hurt.

“But then…” she began tentatively, drawing his attention back to her and noticing amusedly how his eyes wandered to her bare legs, “you’ve been trained in those healing… whatever arts, right? You could help me, couldn’t you?” She could tell he was struggling not to respond ‘yes’ all at once, still torn by some code or rule to leave her stranded. Nanoka knew what would happen though, now that she’d said she needed the help. She’d seen it with clients who came to ‘Doctor Mao’ with everything from stomach bugs to murderous masters; this was part of who he was.

It was no surprise to her when he said softly “Yes, of course, I’ll help you the best I can. I warn you, I’m still in training, but there’s always somewhere to start. At the very least, you can warm up from this weather, Miss…”

“Nanoka” she replied quickly, taken aback by the gentleness in his voice and the fall of black bangs over his eyes. Perhaps it was the cold finally affecting her, but her cheeks were starting to feel warm, and her heart was beating fast.

“Nanoka-san” he replied with a slight bow. “I am Mao. It might be… a little improper, but you’re welcome to stay with me for a while, until I’ve had a chance to study your curse and perhaps find a cure for you. It’s dangerous for a human to be mistaken for a demon in these days.”

She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as he said her name in that familiar voice, those words ‘stay with me’ echoing as though from a past life. ‘This is the past life’ she told herself harshly. ‘You can’t get involved here! This could ruin everything!’ Her thoughts abruptly shut off as Mao put down his tools and undid his blue suikan, draping it around Nanoka’s shoulders and folding it about her with some explanation about warmth that was lost amidst the drumming blood in her ears.

The last coherent thought she had as she followed Mao through the dim twilight, watching the cream-colored robes on his back as the two of them wove carefully around buildings to his room, was a sharp and panicked ‘I’m screwed.’

#mao manga #rumic world #maonoka #mao fanfiction #rumic fanfiction

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