#Artist reader

[givetomurasomechapstick]

Various x Sick!Reader

Because I'm currently feeling under the weather AND I'm blasting my game music because of that. Any characters that came to my mind really.

Also probably deadly short with two characters because I'm so tired.

But I wanted forced myself to do my weekly upload.

Remember this is all my opinion! Feel free to think how you like about it.

Includes: Izuku and Todoroki (not very various I know just cope with me)

Midoriya:

As soon as he figures out your sick, he invites you to his dorm and he has all the medicine neatly prepared.

Probably in a certain order

If you start getting tired or feeling sluggish he'll carry you bridal style to his bed (or yours depends on which dorm your in)

Very sweet.

Will attempt to tend to your every need.

Forced you to stop working if you were. My man understands you. He know how it feels to want to get everything done (or doesn't, it's just my headcanon)

Can probably easily tell what sickness your having just by feeling and looking at you.

Shoto:

Tries to help you as much as he can.

He will ask you what specific brands of medicine you want.

Uses Endeavor's credit card on everything he buys for you.

You have to tell him exactly what you need. Or else he will be clueless of what to do.

If your REALLY sick, let him know your not dieing.

Tries the best he can to make you feel better.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

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

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

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

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

[blue-arkhamknight]

SKETCHES.

Warning: None. (Damian, Jon, and reader are age ten to make the story a bit more sweeter.)

── .✦

── .★

School wasn’t so bad! If you look at it from Damian’s perspective it’s awesome. He gets to learn AND play music. He’s a very tasked kid, playing about 5 instruments. Impressive isn’t it? Violin, guitar, trumpet, viola, and harmonica. Let me say, he’s proud.

For his age the boy shared a love for classical music. A habit of scrunching his nose when he heard some of the school bands play harsh music. It wasn’t like an abomination or something, but just not his cup of tea. Jon, his friend really was just the opposite. From insulting Mozart to shredding his messy and loud electric guitar in his main solos.

Lunch was one of his favorite parts of the day. The food he got to eat and practicing of his instruments, sounds of the bow hitting the strings of his perfectly tuned instrument. Truly it was heavenly to his ears. “You messed up again.” a voice he had memorized rang in his head like an echo, immediately looking embarrassed with the biggest frown. “I certainly do not mess up. Clean your ears.” he told you with a scowl.

You looked up at him from your sketchbook, doing a sketch piece that you forgot as homework in lunch time while you listened to him play. “But you did- you played C minor instead of D.” you said and pointed at his music sheet. Damian huffed and looked where your finger pointed. “Yeah, I knew that. I was just testing you.” he said, his tone betraying him and saying in a hidden way ‘Yeah I messed up.’.

The assignment you had wasn’t difficult, hence to why you forgot to do it. The instructions were: ‘Draw someone or anything as many times as you liked, but you had to fill the whole page.’ your teacher had spoken in class. Damian tried to peek at your page, failing. Your arm was hiding it like a person who wouldn’t let anyone cheat off their exam. He fairly came to the conclusion that it wasn’t fair. You never showed him your art! He always showed you his paintings and musical errors without hiding them!

He still made no fuzz, no matter how much he wanted to look at the sketchbook he respected that maybe you didn’t feel comfortable with sharing your drawings. Damian understood how most artists were embarrassed of showing their works and that was normal. He continued playing his violin, from playing his piece to playing Howl’s Moving Castle. For a moment you stopped with the pencil strokes.

You mentioned many times before Howl’s Moving Castle, though they were mindless thoughts and some homework doodles. Damian had taken his time to memorize the famous melody in his violin. His gaze was torn between you and his fingers on the violin strings and his other hand on his bow. The gaze was intense, like a stoic way of saying ‘Hey! I learned this for you.’. Other students and teachers paused to look at Damian, ones impressed and others recognizing the tune. Equally, your gaze fixated on him also.

Soon your hand moved on the paper once again, calm with the familiar melody as you drew the familiar boy in front of you with his violin. The drawing wasn’t an exact copy of the moment of course, but it was very clear it was Damian Wayne. That was the reason you didn’t show him your drawings. It would be weird to show your friend he’s secretly your muse. The stop of the music made you look up, his face scrunched up in a way of silently saying that you should be excited. In a quick panic you just clapped your hands, making others that had heard clap along.

It was priceless. His red face full of embarrassment. The claps died down and his face went back to normal slowly. He frowned at you and gave you a huff, “I wished to be appreciated, but not from the whole school.” he stoically stated, exaggerating in the slightest. “Sorry, Wayne.” you said back apologetically, only getting a “Tt.” from him.

────

“I will walk today, Pennyworth.” the boy addressed the man through the passenger window the butler had rolled down. Alfred was indeed surprised. “Alright, Master Damian. Are you sure you will not even drop your violin in the vehicle?” his father’s butler asked, making Damian open a door and leave the violin case securely on the seat and closing the door again. He ran to his friends (whether he liked to admit it or not, you and Jon were his friends.), stopping right in front of the guitarist and artist.

After a while of friendly banter, Jon waved and walked away. Now being alone with Damian he took a notice of the hour. “I will walk you home.” he stated. Not even a ‘Can I walk you home?’. You didn’t comment on it since you didn’t have a ride home. “Okay, Damian.” you spoke with a grateful nod.

He walked with you to your home, making small talk and getting a few laughs and smiles out of you which were secretly his goal. Damian also carried your lunchbox. It was a habit he got from the first day of school, which you guys met. You had teasingly asked him to carry your lunchbox and he surprisingly did it. Grumpily, but he still did, after that he developed a habit of doing it. As you stepped foot in front of your door step you turned around, looking at the boy as he made a call for Alfred to pick him up. You dropped your bag mindlessly and companied him in front of your own house to wait for his ride.

“Thank you for walking me home.” you thanked, earning a nod from him. “No problem.” he brushed off, setting your lunchbox next to your bookbag and without you noticing he grabbed something from your bookbag and closed the zipper quietly, putting the item on the inside his jacket. “You okay?” you asked after seeing his rapid movements. “Yes, I am alright.” he said looking over at you and pretending to fix the cuffs of his jacket.

Alfred arrived after about 10-20 minutes, stopping right in front of your house. “Bye Damian! See you at school!” you said with a smile and a wave. He returned the wave and a small “Yeah, bye.”. He hopped in the back seat of the car and Alfred rolled down the window. “Thank you for waiting with him.” Alfred said gratefully, “No problem, Alfred. See you soon!” you responded. You knew the Wayne family for a bit now, Alfred and Bruce being very fond of Damian having another friend aside Jon.

You got inside your house when you took your backpack and lunch box and Alfred made sure. The car got out of view once he made sure you were safely inside. Now that Damian was alone he took out the thing he had taken. Your sketchbook. He knew he was doing something very wrong, but curiosity killed the cat. He flipped page through page of your art assignments. There were studies and all, but he mainly saw himself. Damian realized that, one; your drawings were awesome, two; he felt- happy? How would he work this out? …

How would he tell you that he was Robin?

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

I wrote again!! I need to add more dialogue to my stories and better them. I don’t know if i should continue this.

[kittencomicslol]

Gyutaro x Artist but gyutaro is their Main Muse and they just lobe drawing or sketching him!

Gyutaro x Artist! Reader headcanons :3

______

LOVEEEE THIS IDEA UGHHH I LOVE DRAWING HIM SO BAD HE IS SO COOL AND BEAUTIFUL ❤️❤️❤️

His body is so so cool and I love drawing it and writing about it gyah he’s so cool.. you will definitely hear my rambles and interest in his funky little critter body in this.

Only possible tw would be Gyutaro struggling w why anyone would find him pretty but that’s a given so yah

I’m so sorry this took me a long time to put out, I know I say this like every blue moon I post but my life is fr crazy 😭 it’s getting better tho. I just do these for fun and comfort and i appreciate prompts/requests for when I’m in the need to relax and write about my favorite little guy

•Gyutaro has not a single clue why you seem to be so infatuated with creating art of specifically him

“The entertainment district has so many unique pretty people in it, those who are leaps and bounds more handsome than he is. So why him?

•At first he was even angry to think you would try to gaze upon him in an artistic light before anyone else. He was hideous, he didn’t deserve to be drawn or painted.

•But you didn’t seem to think so

•He would never admit it and prefer to only display his annoyance, but he really was flattered the first few times.

•When you asked to draw him he laughed, because why would you want to do such a thing? He thought you were joking. You were in the entertainment district, a place with some of the most beautiful people in all of Japan!

•But yet.. you insisted on doting upon his hideous form and praising his appearance. showering him with gifts from your natural talent of creativity and your dedication to craft.

•Of course he was envious at first.. of course you were talented. beautiful, nice, and talented. He hated all of those things.

•But he didn’t hate you.

•Gyutaro would unconsciously be annoyed due to thinking your artistic ability is natural born talent. It wasn’t fair how so many humans were blessed with those gifts while he himself seemed to only be cursed with suffering and imperfections.

•Though, after watching you work and create so many different pieces even he himself was able to notice how subtly you improved or when you messed up.

•And of course he noticed because no matter if he would express it or not at first, he adored you making art of him.

•Gyutaro was naturally a very attentive demon. The man grew up on the streets racked with danger and disease. Such living conditions were a constant battle to survive and in order to do so, he needed to be aware of his surroundings.

•His nature to pick up on smaller things only intensified when Ume was born because now he was watching over her, and he deemed her life as bounds more valuable than his own.

•He loved seeing you fail or mess up at your art.. and it wasn’t in an exactly sadistic or crude way like he would feel when seeing others fail. With you, it felt like he was watching you learn and grow. He was witnessing your failure and proof that your talent wasn’t natural, You had to work for it. And something about that struck a chord in him.

•Embarrassment was always a very common emotion for him to express when you asked for a better look at him.

•’I want to see your back better, I need to see the way your spine curves.’

•‘Let me see you up close so I can get your birthmarks right’

•‘Can you show me your hand?’

•Every single little question you asked always gave him butterflies, both from nerves and him becoming flustered.

•But over time as you two bonded; he became much more comfortable with sharing his body with you.

•His small crude comments about how ‘pointless’ your art of him was gradually turned into quiet mumbles of appreciation or gentle praise.

•Sometimes, if you get lucky he will allow you to touch him. Trailing your hand down his odd protruding spine, or delicately brushing your fingers over his ribs that were barely covered by his skin.

•One time he even let you feel his stomach.. if you could even call it that, and where his abs were just to see how his strange anatomy worked. That interaction didn’t last for long as he got far too flustered and anxious to let you continue, but it was still fascinating nonetheless.

•Gyutaro was almost constantly put off but your compliments about the parts of his body he hated the most.

•His disgusting marks? They were pretty, and looked like paint on a canvas to you.

•His visible ribs? They were unique, a wonderful oddity.

•His crooked spine? One of your ‘favorite parts’ of him to draw

•His bloodshot down turned eyes? They looked like gemstones to you, sparkled like the stars.

•It was like any aspect he found repulsive about himself, you saw it the exact opposite.

•There was one small interaction Gyutaro didn’t think he would ever forget, something that touched him in a way he had never felt before

•It was common for you to show Gyutaro new drawings you made of him.. working as Daki’s artist you only had so much time to ever gift him with full pieces.

•Not that he cared, at this point if you gave him a stick figure and said it was him he would be grateful you even thought of him.

•Perhaps that was only because of your close bond.. if another human did that things probably wouldn’t go so sweetly.

•He wished he had a better place to keep such cherished things though all he had was the little cave where him and Daki stored food and skeletons.

•Nevertheless, you liked to doodle him a lot in quick sketches that you almost always displayed to him. Usually you came to sit with him when you would draw him to get reference for something about his ghoulish unnatural form, especially for his birthmarks. He had so many he was used to you coming in with near finished drawings that still needed reference for where his spots were.

•Eventually, you stopped asking for such things and it almost made him sad. Did you just loose interest?.. he wouldn’t blame you, he was hideous.

•Of course that was him being overly negative and unrealistic. You still frequently showed him art you created of him, so he had no reason to think that. But he usually wasn’t very logical when it came to thoughts about his own body..

•One night the two of you ended up in the same room together for a while, Gyutaro glancing over to you for a moment..

•”(Y/N)..”

•He croaked out your name in his broken voice that you never seemed to comment on. Almost instantly you raised your head and turned all of your attention onto Gyutaro

•“Hm?”

*The demon let out a small huff. He felt pathetic asking something like this. He was an upper moon demon, he shouldn’t care.

•“Why did.. why did you stop visiting me whenever you draw?”

• he forced out, letting out a small sigh as soon as he did. He had to use restraint to hold himself back from hiding his face in his palms

•But instead of ignoring him or saying you got sick of looking at his ugly face, you chuckled.

•”Taro, I’ve drawn you so many times I already know what you look like. I even have your marks memorized.”

•He went quiet, his face flushing a crimson hue from your response. There was just.. no way. You couldn’t be real. What had he done to deserve you?..

•”Oh..”

•Was all he was able to manage out, too flustered and dumbfounded to come up with a proper response.

•If he wasn’t in love with you enough before, he was far past head over heels by now.

•The concept of abstract art interested him as well, and he would always be very grateful whenever you would explain how some people found deep interest in things that looked.. less than appealing.

•One of Gyutaro’s favorite small details he always picked up on was in your doodles of him.

•Sometimes you liked to add something extra onto your work to make it more lively, and whenever you did that with him it would always be little hearts around him.

•Things so small yet so meaningful were things he had always loved, and this was definitely no exception.

•When you displayed your art to others you could never exactly display him.. though you sometimes added little details that you knew he would notice

•Little black splotches around the canvas akin to his marks, small Kanji for the number six sometimes appearing.

•He knew you couldn’t exactly ‘show him off’ and he knew you probably wouldn’t want to if you could.. but even so, seeing you do something that still counted as showing him off meant a lot.

•Even if nobody else noticed or knew, he did.

•He noticed all of the little details, the stray lines, the mistakes. Every little thing about your art he adored

•The same way he adored you.

————

WAAA!! I wrote most of this months ago at like 12AM and I am astounded that it actually held up and I didn’t have to completly re-write it. Just finished it up

[jj0k3rs]

HALLOOOOO !!

can I request an aventurine and dr ratio (separate) x artist reader where reader keeps pressuring themselves to do good art and because of that, they see reader more down in the dumps and like less motivated than usual? THANK YOU SM!! Take your time as well <33

burnt out artist reader (hsr men x reader)

thank you so much for the request! this one hit hard as an artist so I hope you all enjoy!!

requests open in bio ♡

characters included: aventurine, dr ratio

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A/N: im slowly working through requests, so please be patient guys! 🫶

[kathaelipwse]

Carved in Sin | Dokyeom

Masterlist

next chapter>>>

Pairing: Art.student!reader x Mafia.Leader!DK

Trope: Forbidden love

Warnings: Slow Burn | Hidden Identity | Your Muse | Fluff

Word Count: 0.8k

Author's Note: Well, Sweetheart DK as a ruthless-flirty Mafia- Ahhhhh!! I am low-key scared, y'll loved the yunho seriesss i hope this one is also Likable lmao- I am working hard haha-

Chapter 1 – A Face Worth Sculpting

The café was warm, filled with the comforting aroma of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon pastries. The steady hum of conversation and clinking of cups should have eased your nerves, but your mind was elsewhere, tangled in frustration.

Your sculpture project. Your professor’s words haunted you—“Find a muse. Not just a subject, but someone who moves you. Your hands should tremble with the urge to sculpt them fully from head to toe, the best 3 go to the art gallery of one of our sponsors.”

Easy for them to say. You’d gone through countless sketches, attempted half-hearted clay forms, and still, nothing felt right. Time was slipping away, and you were desperate.

And then, he walked in.

A tall figure, dressed in black, exuding an aura that made the air in the café shift. His sharp features looked like they had been carved by the gods themselves—defined jawline, high cheekbones, and dark eyes that held something unreadable. There was an elegance in the way he moved, purposeful and controlled, like he was used to commanding a room without saying a word.

You weren’t the only one who noticed. Conversations quieted ever so slightly, an unconscious reaction to the tension he carried with him. He stepped up to the counter, hands slipping into the pockets of his coat.

“Espresso. No sugar.” His voice was deep, smooth, but there was a sharpness beneath it, like a hidden blade.

You, working as a café worker who took orders, instinctively tapped the order into the register. But your fingers hesitated as your gaze flickered up to him. Him. He was the one. The kind of face people would admire in museums centuries after his time.

Without thinking, you moved.

“Would you model for me?” The words left your lips before you could second-guess yourself.

Silence. The slight clatter of a coffee cup being placed onto a saucer was the only sound between you.

He turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something almost unsettling about the way he looked at you—not startled, not amused, just… curious. As if he was trying to determine whether you were being serious or just reckless.

“You’re asking me to be your muse?” he said finally, his lips tilting into a smirk, though his eyes remained unreadable. “That’s a first.”

Your heartbeat quickened, but you didn’t back down. “Your features are exactly what I’ve been looking for. You’re—” You hesitated. Striking? Ethereal? A walking masterpiece? All of those sounded ridiculous. “…interesting.”

His brow lifted slightly, as if entertained by your choice of words. “Interesting,” he repeated, rolling the word over his tongue like he was testing its weight.

You slid his espresso onto the counter, but he didn’t move to take it. Instead, he kept his attention fixed on you. “And why should I agree to this?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Because… your face deserves to be immortalized?”

A low chuckle left him. It was the kind of sound that sent a shiver down your spine—not just because it was deep, but because it felt like he was playing along simply for his own amusement.

“Flattering,” he mused, finally taking his espresso. He brought the cup to his lips, watching you over the rim. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

A flicker of irritation ran through you. “Look, I can’t pay you much, but—”

“That’s unfortunate.” He sighed in mock disappointment, setting his cup down. “I don’t usually waste time on things that don’t benefit me.”

You clenched your jaw. He was toying with you. “It’s not a waste. It’s art.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “Then convince me.”

Your brows furrowed. “Convince you?”

“I’ll give you five minutes,” he said smoothly, glancing at his watch. “If you can make a compelling argument by then, I’ll consider it.”

The nerve of this man. But you were nothing if not determined.

You launched into an impassioned speech about how rare it was to find the right subject, how his presence had a certain gravity to it, how sculpting him wouldn’t just be about his face but about capturing something deeper—something raw and unguarded.

He listened, expression unreadable, occasionally making a hum of amusement when you got particularly desperate. The way his gaze held yours made it feel less like an interview and more like a game—a predator watching its prey try to escape.

Finally, when your time was nearly up, he exhaled a quiet laugh. “You’re persistent.”

You crossed your arms. “So?”

He studied you for a moment longer before reaching into his coat pocket, pulling out a sleek black pen. He grabbed a napkin, scrawled something on it, and slid it across the counter toward you.

A phone number.

“Text me the details,” he said, finishing his espresso in one smooth motion. “Let’s see if you’re worth my time.”

Your fingers brushed the napkin, heart still hammering from the interaction. “Only for business,” you said firmly, just to make it clear.

His smirk deepened. “Of course.”

With that, he turned and walked out, slipping into a sleek black car that had been waiting outside. You only realized you had been holding your breath when the door shut behind him.

You looked down at the number, feeling an odd mix of victory and foreboding.

Somewhere deep inside, you had the sense that you had just stepped into something far bigger than you understood.

And for better or worse, there was no turning back now.

....To Be Continued

---

Taglist: @lixisoul99

[npookie0]

Hiii, could we perhaps have some hcs for roning x artist!mc, so like their side hustle is drawing and stuffs and what he thinks of it? (and/or asks of them to maybe create something for him ^_^?)

Thank you for your time and stay hydrated <3

Sinner's Portrait.

Ronin x artist reader, headcanos, sweet and simple

Enjoy lovelies 🫶

Ronin was very interested in your artistry from the day he found out about it, he has a thing for creators after all. "You're a god on your own darling, a god who creates their own little worlds."

He is attentive to you whenever you show him your drawings or paintings, he asks about details and meanings behind every stroke of your brush.

When you paint he will stand behind you with his arms wrapped around you, chin resting on your shoulder while he watches your feelings and desires fill the blank canvas with colours and shapes

If there's a competition going around or if you're commissioned to make a big piece, Ronin will be there to keep you taking care of yourself, making sure you eat, drink and sleep. "As tragic as that would be, I can't have my lil artists pass out with their creation never finished."

Sometimes you doodle Ronin in your sketchbook or on your canvas before you cover them with paint, he finds it adorable how secretive you're trying to be with it.

You, obviously, give him paintings for his birthday, or Christmas, or any different occasion to give him anything - sometimes you don't even need an occasion, you just want to give him something. It makes him really happy, even if he's cocky about it and will always play his little nonchalant attitude with you. Your painting will now hang on his wall and he will brag about it to Angel, maybe be a little softie about them.

If you're in artblock, Ronin will offer himself as a model for you. "What? I kill people when I can't bring out any creative murder ideas, you can use a model when you can't get those creative thoughts to guide your brush."

Ronin doesn't ask you to paint him anything, at least not without making up an excuse for it. "Oh darlin', don'tcha want your lil creation to find their place in my home?" You know that he just wants to get a lil painting just dedicated to himself and you happily oblige, why wouldn't you make your edgelord of a boyfriend happy?

[thimbleandakiss]

Sketches and Scotch

Vi x Artist!Reader

Summary: You've had a crush on Vi for ages, following her to her favorite clubs and bars, just to have a chance to be in her presence. And, to fill your blank pages with more images of her, of course.

Based entirely off this cosplay:

Content: Drinking, cursing, drawing, flirting, and dancing

Cross posted to Ao3

Playlist used to write

The music in the Last Drop is loud enough that you can barely hear the scratch of your pencil across your sketchbook paper. 

It isn’t exactly your kind of scene, but you’re not here for your own enjoyment. You glance up at your unwitting model and smile gently to yourself. Vi’s lounged back in a chair a stone’s throw away, wearing a leather top and swirling a drink in her hand. 

She seems to be flirting with the tall, elegantly thin woman leaning over the table in front of her, her dark pink hair falling perfectly across her forehead. You ignore the mild twinge of jealousy you feel. You know it’ll never be you in the tall woman’s position; you just simply don’t have the self-confidence for that. 

You lower your head again and frown at your sketched version of Vi’s likeness. No… that’s not quite right. Her hair falls just slightly further across her eyebrow than that. You erase and draw over the offending lock a few times, reshaping and nudging it into just the right position, your head cocked slightly, bent over your sketchbook. 

The sound of a whiskey glass slamming on the table in front of you has you nearly leaping from your skin. You quickly snap the cover closed, your pencil marking your page. 

“Sulking in the corner again, pretty girl?” Vi purrs, cocking her head at you. 

She’s so close, that after you remember how to breathe right, you can smell the alcohol on her breath. 

“Y-you know parties aren’t really my thing, Vi-” you stammered, leaning back in your seat, trying to make some room for air-

“Oh, bullshit,” She dismisses, placing her hands on the backrest of your chair, boxing you in, “you wouldn’t come if they weren’t.”

You give her a nervous chuckle and smile, shrugging. Her eyes fall to your lap, and before you can even react, she’s scooped up your sketchbook, the volume automatically falling open to the page your pencil marked. 

“No-” you gasp, reaching desperately for it but she steps deftly out of your reach. 

Her brows furrow when she sees the sketch, and for a moment, the playful light in her eyes vanished. 

“...You drew this?” She demands, gesturing to me with the book.

Your hands clench and lower to your lap, expecting her immediate rejection, “Yeah…”

She looks at you, eyes narrowed, then back at the drawing. 

You believe you may become a puddle from sheer relief when her mouth quirks into a smirk and she huffs a small laugh. 

“Damn. You made me look hot as shit .” She says appreciatively, closing your sketchbook and setting it on the table. 

You reach out for it, but she grabs your wrist and tugs you to your feet. 

“Oh, no. No more antisocialism. You’re coming with me.” 

“But-” you begin.

“Nope,” she swiftly cuts you off, shaking her head. “We’re dancing. And there isn’t shit you can say to stop me.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the way she smirks at you, and you’re powerless to resist her as she pulls you into the mass of mingling bodies. 

She catches your eye and holds it, her light eyes sparkling. She’s tipsy. Drunk, even. She’s gotta be. There’s no way she actually wants-

Your train of thought is cut short when she picks up your other hand and steps forward, bringing your chests together, then stepping away to arm's length. 

Oh. This dance. You know this dance. You’d learned it together as kids. A grin breaks out onto your face despite yourself, muscle memory taking over. Forward, backward, forward, backward, then-

Her grip on your hands shifts, and suddenly the bright lights blur as she spins you, your back landing against her chest. 

“Let me buy you a drink,” she breathes into your ear before she’s twirling you out again. 

Forwards. “Vi, you know I don’t-”

Backwards. “Oh, I know,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Forwards. Backwards. This time it’s her turn to spin into your arms. “I just make it a point to offer one to every girl I feel like taking home.”

Your face heats considerably, and you’re sure you’re blushing to your ears. Her spin out is all on her, because you’ve suddenly gone stiff. 

She takes one look at your face and laughs . She drops one hand on your shoulder. “Sweet Janna, you should see your face,” she snickers, and starts nudging you towards the bar.

“Come on,” she pleads, “just a shirley temple?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders sagging. You never could tell her no. 

Vi orders your (non-alcoholic) drink for you, and as you chatter back and forth, you find yourself… having… fun. And not just fun, but fun with her. With Vi . 

You try to write off her flirtatious comments as Vi just being Vi, but as you sip on your grenadine-flavored soda, analyzing the look in her eyes, her quip from earlier, the way she left that sexy-as-sin woman from earlier for you , you can’t help but think…

Maybe…

Maybe.

[thefandomsfervent]

Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 8) - Burnt Sienna

Mostly reader and Jayce perspective today! Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

It had been a couple days since your accidental nap. When you had come back that first night Jayce made you explain “what the hell beetle juice” was to him for the two hours you had spent there. Viktor had already heard your explanation but he listened again anyway, nodding along. The two of them asking questions about the process and noting things down. Viktor had shown Jayce a passage he had noted, something about human nature. Apparently it led them to some potential new use for Hextech although you had no idea how it was all connected. They had thanked you for talking with them, and thrown themselves back at their work.

It was sweet that they cared about what you were doing. And it was so good to see them get over their slump. It inspired you to do the same.

You hadn’t been to your studio much in these past weeks. Or. At all, really. You had been at the Institute for years, your old studio had a chaos that you loved and knew. It wasn’t wrong to assume that you missed it, you did. But it was more like you were scared of the provided one. This new one was daunting. All white walls, glass tables, furniture sets that had never seen paint a day in their lives.

Was it nice? Yes. Was the frivolousness of how they provided you with everything just rubbing you the wrong way? Also yes. You had no doubts that once your assignment here was done that they would throw it all out, not even donate it. But you had work to do. And it was work you didn’t want to commandeer the lab for. Building and stretching canvas was a tough job, and one you got embarrassingly loud in. You had enough funds set aside to buy a pre-built canvas. And you absolutely had in the past. Yet this project just demanded a fresh start. You wanted to use every skill set in your arsenal. “I mean, this thing is going to be sitting in an actual art hall.” Once it was built you’d move it to the lab, somehow.

So when early morning came you loaded up your coin purse with assorted cogs and set to the markets. You'd left a note on the lab door, today would be the first day you wouldn't be in at all. A faint blue light under the door and an electric buzzing in the air told you that someone,  likely Viktor, was still working.

You needed wood, a new mallet, and nails. Lots of nails. The last two on the list you got pretty easily. A mallet you could get at almost any craft stall, the nails at the same place, but the wood? You were picky.

The frame needed to be big. The Academy and Institute had given you a set of dimensions to choose from and of course you had gone with the biggest one. 60in x 50in. You needed a wood that was soft enough that you wouldn't be hammering in nails all day, and that would keep the canvas taught but not so tight it was bouncy. You needed a wood that was strong enough it wouldn't bow under pressure from stretching, but also wouldn't collapse on itself after years of display either. Another thing is that whoever sold it to you needed to be willing to cut and deliver it. 

You're at a Café enjoying a drink and going over your notes. You've hit four carpentry stalls today, six if you're counting the two arbor stalls, and you're realizing no one is going to cut it for you and deliver it. It would have to be one or the other. It wasn't that they didn't want to, but couldn't if you wanted them today. You were impatient. The idea of scheduling a pickup sets a dull throbbing behind your eyes. Especially if that meant dealing with Enforcers. Adding a saw to your list, you decide to just bite the bullet. You'll go back to the second stall. That one had the widest selection of wood, and something tells you that if you bring the older lady at the counter a treat she may give you a discount. Plan made, now you just had to buy the wood and have it delivered in time for lunch. It'd give you time to do the math at the very least.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Jayce is excited. He and Viktor have several new theories surrounding travel for Hextech. At the rate they were going they could present these to Heimerdinger by the end of the week for grants. He almost misses your note on his way in. The yank he gave the door makes the paper flutter.

"Best of luck in your studies ventures today,  I'll be on my own for a bit (maybe a couple days) putting together the canvas for the painting. If you guys need me for anything I'll be in my studio or my room.  Feel free to leave me a note back if you don't find me :D

P.S. if the pigment "beetle juice" looks FULLY dried please let me know!!

-y/n"

When he turns it over he sees that you've left instructions on how to find your studio and room. He didn't realize your writing was so emphatic. It makes him think of his own note taking, constantly scribbling out and pointing things in different directions to circle back on later. He tucks it in his pocket, he'll let Viktor see it later, after he's slept some. He's been as high strung as ever and Jayce wasn't sure what was going on. 

He takes a moment just to look at him. The fellow scientist was standing at a table, chalk in one hand, cane in the other. Viktor was making notes on the board, equations rubbed out and rewritten. His hair was tousled beyond belief. Jayce half wonders when he brushed it last. 

“Hey V.” He keeps his voice soft, slow. 

“Jayce, what do you think about these?” Waving his hand at the chalkboard, dust falling off his sleeve. Attention unwaveringly focused on the next correction he makes. 

“I think we can talk about them more later.” The wrong thing to say, apparently. Viktor doesn’t even turn to face him. His spine stiffens, finger tapping against the chalk. “After you’ve slept, is all.” He turns at that. A half-turn, that has his waist twisting, his face barely visible. Those amber eyes narrowed in annoyance, his nose scrunched, lips pursed. They were chapped. 

“You do not have time to review them now?” 

“I do, but if I do now we’ll get caught up and you won’t sleep.” Viktor faces him fully at that. Jayce does his best to hold his stance.

“Do you not want to get caught up with me?” He ignores the goosebumps on his arms at that. 

“Vik, please.” He gets a huff. “I’ll bring you a sweetmilk latte later if you go. 6 hours, you’ll be back here by noon and we can go over them then.” Viktor hums at that. He smiles. 

“5 hours.” He’s walking to the door, patting Jayce on the arm as he passes. “And one of those ginger crumbly things they sell too.” 

“If they have one, it's yours.”  Another hum, and the lab door is closing. 

“I’m working with a toddler that hates nap time.” Jayce is rubbing his face as he walks to the board. 

“That also expects results.” He’s pulling out his pen from his pocket, and he feels crinkling. Right. Your note. He pulls it out to look at it again. He should get you something too. It’s always Viktor bringing drinks and you bringing pastries. Smoothing out the paper, he makes a mental note to visit your studio soon. Maybe drag Viktor with him to get him out of the lab for more than just sleep. You’ve been watching them work for almost two months now, it only seems right to see what you get up to. 

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--------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 7-.-Part 9.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .-----------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[i-write-word]

Based on this ask from the minds of @blindmagdalena and @letthenerdsleep; I had to.

CONTENT WARNING: SWEARING, HOMELANDER

"I just don't get what's so damn brilliant about that green. It's just fucking green."

You pause in your coloring, damp paintbrush still in hand. You narrowed your eyes at John who was gazing outside the penthouse window at the horizon. He was slumped across the couch like an old Victorian painting as he waited somewhat patiently for you to pay attention to him.

You took a deep breath, knowing full well you would regret asking but you had to know. "...What?"

John huffed at you as if you were being unreasonable. "The green." He gestured vaguely to the paint tubes beside your palette. "What make it brilliant?" He asked as he folded his arms behind his head.

You blink at him, trying to process the question.

"And royal blue. What makes it royal? Like, royalty never had anything to do with blue. It'd make more sense if it was royal purple but what gives blue that title?" He mused.

You were gobsmocked, staring at the supe with your jaw open.

"Magenta too. Who lookaed at it and said, 'yeah, that's magenta.'" He floated up slightly off the couch so he could gesture the arc of his imaginary rainbow before settling back into his original position.

You set your paintbrush into the mug holding dirty paint water, your bottom lip folding over your teeth so you didn't burst out laughing. "John. Love of my life. My darling hero. Is this about the color thing again?"

The color thing, as you so eloquently put it, was about the time Homelander had decided to raid your collection of art supplies while he was bored and you were dedicating too much time to your hobby. He had combed through every pencil, paint tube and cake and even the forgotten box of crayons, reading each and every name before coming to you in a rage that he had no colors named after him.

He turned to you with blue eyes widened too innocently. "Look, I'm just saying! My name, as a color? That's brilliance right there." He turned his head to smirk up at the ceiling.

You shook your head fondly. "What color would you even be then?" You turned to face him now, crossing one leg over your knee. You drummed your fingertips against a blue splatter on your skin.

John blinked before sitting upright, hand to his chin as he carefully considered his options. "Hmmm, well.... I can't just be one color."

You snorted, regarding his Americana suit. "Obviously."

He grinned at you, that sweet little playful tilt of his lips that drew you in the first place. A soft puff of air escaped him as he realized you were playing along. "I can't even be two."

"Oooo, getting greedy"

He floated over to you as if he were magnetized. A daring hand rested on your knee. "I don't even know about three." He whispered conspiratorially, those sapphire blues sparkling with mischief.

You snorted again as you burst out laughing. "Oh, my God, you're impossible." You cupped his cheeks as you pulled him in closer. A warm smile had crossed your lips as you nuzzled your nose against his and John couldn't help but melt and bask in your joyous love.

"Yeah... but you like me best that way." He weaseled his way into your lap, careful to keep most of his weight off of you. He wrapped both arms around your neck and shoulders as you rested a hand on his waist.

A happy hum escaped him as you hugged him as tight as you could. "A man could get used to this." John sighed as he pressed his face against your neck.

You chuffed quietly as you rubbed your cheek against the top of his head, ruffling the dyed blond locks. "You're already spoiled enough." You teased before leaving a quick peck on his temple.

"You could spoil me more though." John rebuttled as he gave you his own gentle squeeze. "A whole lot more. Gimme allllll your love, sweetheart." He purred, as content as a cat in your lap.

You laughed louder at that and Homelander beamed at the sound. You both were well aware of how greedy he was, how starved he was for any affection you dared to give. He loved that you never grew tired of giving, no matter how demanding the supe became or how much time he consumed.

He hummed again as he pressed a kiss to your throat, feeling the thrum of your heartbeat through your jugular. He focused on the harmonies your body provided, from the percussion of your heart to the woodwind of your lungs. The soft gurgling of your digestive acids within your stomach accompanied your busy veins and arteries to provide the perfect background melody.

You struggled to keep him in your lap as John relaxed further into you, drunk on your sounds. "Geez, you'll fall asleep on me." You halfheartedly complained.

It wouldn't be the first time the hero had deemed you his napping place but he usually chose places more comfortable than your desk chair.

"You'll live." He mumbled against your skin, relishing in the jump of your heartbeat and the goosebumps raising the hair on your flesh.

You rolled your eyes and he snorted upon sensing your compliance.

"Juuuuust give in to me. You don't have to do anything else, lovely." He murmured as he started to drift off to sleep.

[givetomurasomechapstick]

League of Villains and a Baby Toddler

♪~°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°~♪

Is THIS an epilogue? I have no idea anymore.

Oneshot/Part 1: League of Villains and a Baby

Headcanons: Epilogue headcanons (?)

Notes: Fem Reader implied! Btw fighting over you + a free side dish of slight feral Spinner.

♪~°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°~♪

Just imagine how this would all go down.

We already remember how much Tomura DIDN'T want the baby.

So just think about how it is now.

A four year old child running around a villain lair? With unsupervised weapons? AND the most wanted criminals in Japan?

I feel like this is something we already went over.

Let's just make sure you don't touch Toga's knives.

♪~°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°~♪

"Spinner, I can't take this anymore!" Shigaraki half yelled, vigorously scratching his neck. The little toddler running around the room, with Spinner closely chasing behind. "Don't worry boss, just give me a minute and I'll-ack!" Twice, who was also chasing the child, had banged his head into Spinner's as the kid stuck her tongue out at them.

"You gotta be kidding me." Shigaraki scowled, his itching toning down a bit. "I see where she gets her energy from." Dabi mumbled, sparing a glance Toga's way, which she quickly caught on to. "Hey! At least she isn't a brat like you!" She growled.

Meanwhile, Spinner was almost crying. Literally, the child is like the only thing that makes him cry. And often. I feel like (Y/N) is secretly tearing him apart slowly. "S-Star... Come here PLEASE and stop running around." He called out to, which you reacted with a pout. "Hey! Don't do that-" "Baby (Y/N), come here." Toga opened her arms and you ran into them, shifting it into a hug.

Spinner was heartbroken though. He's the one who found you, took care of you (well technically, the entirety of the League does), and most likely loved you the most out of all of them. Why don't you listen to him?!

"See, Baby (Y/N) listened to me. Maybe that's just because she likes me more." Spinner was triggered by those words and lunged at Toga, who was still holding the child, only to be held back by Compress.

"Now now, no time to get feral. It was most likely meant to bother you." Compress told the lizard, pulling him into a straighter position. "Maybe crazy is right and the brat does like her better." Dabi remarked, turning his back to the rest of them.

Spinner literally growled at that. Showing his rather sharp canines before snatching (Y/N) out of Toga's arms. "She's MINES. I only shared her because I thought it be easier for me but it isn't! But she's always been mines!" Spinner held the child close to his chest tightly, not letting go.

"(Y/N) doesn't belong to anyone but herself." Compress sighed dealing with this scenario again, shading his face with his gloved hand.

"Spinner. If she were yours then you wouldn't announce her to us and you would keep her a secret from us until I threaten to decay you." Shigaraki grumbled. Now glaring at the bundle of energy in Spinner's arms.

"No! I would never!" "Because you wanted all of us to take care of her, not keep her to yourself." While Spinner and Shigaraki were bickering, (Y/N) slipped out of Spinner's firm grip somehow, and ran off to her room.

Sighing as she closed her room door and locked it behind herself, she looked through the window. "(Y/N)!" Practically everyone yelled out in unison.

"Where is she?" Dabi muttered. "How could you lose her while talking about she's yours? While holding her?" Shigaraki hissed, frantically itching his neck again. "She couldn't of gone too far." Compress said, in a much calmer tone than the others. "How could you?" Toga growled, taking out her knife and slowly creeping up on Spinner. "Yeah, how could you?!" Twice yelled, as he re-entered the room after sneaking away earlier. "Wait, what are we yelling about again?"

"(Y/N)!"

Some of them yelled out the name, one of them spoke calmly one of them growled and the other said it barely audible.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)?! You mean like, our child?" Twice asked, before Shigaraki made a look of grimace and Spinner just growled again. "Please don't word it like that." Shigaraki muttered, while at the same time Spinner yelled "She's MINES."

"She's probably just in her room." Compress spoke up quite loudly to catch everyone's attention. Everyone turned to face him, which led to Spinner noticing how Toga had a knife against his neck in the corner of his vision.

Before you know it, they were tripping over eachother getting to the child's room, slamming open the door to find an open window but no (Y/N) in sight. That definitely caused chaos.

Spinner was practically crying on his knees, Toga was throwing everything around to find you, including Twice, Compress was looking around the room for maybe other clues where she went, Dabi had already walked out and so did Shigaraki, who were both separately secretly planning to look outside for her.

However, she quickly walked into the room with a glass of milk in her hands. No one notices though until she lightly tapped Spinner's shoulder, and quickly handing him the milk she had originally got for herself.

"Here daddy. Sorry if I worried you... all." The words ran through his head, and he quickly brought the child into a tight hug, tearing up. Compress just patted his shoulder when she started muffled speaking in his chest. He also slightly parted the two.

But Toga quickly broke the endearing moment by stealing (Y/N) away from Spinner, holding her close to her. "Mines." Compress sighed. "I thought we got over this. "Got over what? Not at all!" Twice remarked, because he wasn't there, remember? Actually, maybe you don't, but that's why I put that there.

Anyways,

Dabi peaked inside the room after hearing all the commotion from even where he was at, to find that (Y/N) was found. He let a barely hearable sigh of relief before walking away.

Shigaraki, however...

"What do you mean she just walked in?" He scowled, having big thick gloves over his hands holding the child right to his chest. Rare protective Shiggy moment. ~

"Idiots. She should be mines." "But you hated her." Twice comebacked before slowly making a peace sign and walking backwards into the hallways as Shigaraki growled.

"Not anymore. She needed help a long time ago and still needs help." "Yeah, that's why we took her in. So we could raise ber." Compress reminded him, before getting shouted at. "NO, she still needs to be saved from you dumb NPCs." "You didn't just call us-" Spinner got cut off. "Yes. Yes I did. Now stop testing my patient and LEAVE."

Anyways, at the end of the day we learn that the LoV are still terrible with kids.

[imagine-darksiders]

Imagine the makers finding out you're a painter and begging you to show them your work. They're blown away by every one of your delicate brush strokes, murmuring to each other how they could never work with such fine tools.

[aloralika]

Main four X a insecure painter reader

English is not my first language!

Gon (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

★Gon won't really be interested in your profession at first, he will probably ask you a few questions but that's it. But as you get closer he will become more and more curious, and then he noticed that he had never seen one of your works.

★So he naturally came to you and asked if you could show him one of your paintings or drawings.

★He was a little confused when you were so reluctant to show him your paintings/drawing.It's not like he would judge (he couldn't do better anyway) and he was sure your art was magnificent.

★So when you finally decided to show him he was really impressed and started complimenting you in every way he could. He doesn't really understand why you're so shy about it since for him it's beautiful, but from now on he will compliment you more and more on it.

Killua *⁠\⁠0⁠/⁠*

‡Another one who isn't really interested in your profession, he's just not really interested in art in general.

‡He won't really notice it at first, it's only when your relationship evolves that he notices, how come your paintings/drawings are an important part of your life but he's never seen you hold a brush or a pencil?

‡He always notices some paintbrushes, pencils and canvases here and there but he never sees you hold a pencil.

‡He won't really think about it much, but it's when he finally sees you painting that he will suddenly be curious about your talent.Like Gon he doesn't really understand why you're so insecure about it, it's objectively beautiful and he doesn't even say it to flatter you.

‡He won't give you as many compliments as Gon but he will tell you that he sincerely likes your painting and that you have nothing to envy of other artists

Kurapika (⁠✷⁠‿⁠✷⁠)

★From the start he would already be more interested than Gon and Killua, he will ask you if you went to an art school, if you sell your paintings..

★He watches you paint at every chance he gets, he loves seeing you exercise your passion with so much love. Even if at first you were REALLY hesitant. to let him attend your painting sessions.

★He tries to reassure you as best he can by telling you that your paintings are incredible and that you have nothing to envy of other people.

★He often offers you new painting materials, it's just that every time a material that you don't have catches his eye he can't get it out of his head until he gives it to you

Leorio (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

‡He tries to give you advice here and there but it's isn't very useful...

‡Would start screaming like crazy at everyone who makes fun of your painting or makes you insecure about it.

‡From time to time he will ask you if he could paint with you. Except that most of the time his paintings are not really.."artistic" compared to you. He keeps complaining about it, wondering how this can happen while he copies your movements as best he can.

‡Once he managed to make a pretty good painting! You could hear him yapping about it miles away...

[aventurineswife]

Thanks for answering my ask about comedic nudity!

So I ended up forgetting about the og idea I wanted to send because I didn’t write it down. 🙂��↕️

But I do have another idea that involves Reader being a freak for art! If you’ve ever played (or watched someone play) Persona 5, Reader is a little bit like Yusuke, they love to draw and paint and all that fun stuff. They’re also a bit of a simp and have pages in their sketchbooks dedicated to drawing people they fancy.

So, not really nudity here, but one day while drinking, Reader gets so drunk off of their ass they finally dare to ask the question that’s been gnawing at the back of their mind:

“Hey, [muse]…D’ya wanna model naked for me?”

Bonus points if they’re trying to ask it to their muse in question, but they’re so drunk they don’t realize they’re facing someone else entirely.

Like, their muse could be Sunday and they’re trying to ask Sunday to model naked for them, but they’re facing Robin.

It can also be other combos!

Like, Muse:the person Reader is actually facing

So—

Gepard:Serval

Blade:Firefly

Dan Heng:Sushang

Lingsha:Yunli

Jing Yuan:Yanqing

These are just examples off the top of my head but basically pick any one or think of another pair yourself and make it as chaotic as you possible can. 🤣

If you make the title “Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls” istg—

Portraits of Desire

Tags: Sunday x Reader x Robin, Aventurine x Reader x Topaz, Artist!Reader, Fluff and Humor, Alcohol-Induced Shenanigans, Artistic Obsession, Mild Suggestive Themes, Confessions in Chaos, Playful Banter.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption and intoxication, Light innuendo, Embarrassing humorous situations.

A/N: sadly i already named a previous fic that, so I can't name this one the same title 😕💔

(Credits to @kakyoriya on Twitter/X)

The Charmony Festival's afterparty had always been a lively affair, filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. You, an artist swept into the chaos of Penacony’s surreal world, found yourself seated at a circular table with Sunday and Robin. Despite your initial plans to observe the Halovian pair discreetly, the generous flow of Halovian wine had turned those plans into a swirling mess.

Your sketchbook lay open on the table, pages flipping as a gust of laughter erupted around you. The pages showcased the delicate strokes of your pencil—portraits of Sunday, Robin, and various festival moments. They were all expertly rendered, but your fascination with Sunday was painfully obvious. His eyes seemed to pierce through the pages, and even his halo was meticulously detailed.

Robin chuckled softly, her hair shimmering under the festival lights. “You’ve truly captured his essence.” she remarked, pointing at one of your sketches.

You hiccupped, the wine adding a rosy hue to your cheeks. “Well, it’s ‘cause he’s so damn… inspiring!” you slurred.

Sunday, ever dignified, raised a brow but allowed a faint smile to curl his lips. “I see. I suppose I should thank you for the flattery.”

The room swayed as you turned, your intoxicated mind suddenly consumed by a thought you’d never dared voice. You reached out, grabbing Sunday’s gloved hand—or at least you thought it was Sunday’s.

“Hey… hey, you!” you stammered, squinting up at Robin instead. She tilted her head, bemused.

“Yes?” Robin replied, her voice lilting like a melody.

“I’ve been… thinking,” you began, leaning closer to her. “You’re… perfect. Your symmetry, your aura—it’s breathtaking!”

Robin’s brows knitted in surprise, her cheeks flushing faintly. Sunday, watching from across the table, cleared his throat. “They mean to ask me, Robin. I’ve noticed their fixation.”

But you, oblivious and unbothered, barreled forward. “Model for me. Naked. Just once!”

Robin sputtered, her elegance momentarily faltering. “I beg your pardon?”

Sunday, his eyes narrowing slightly, stepped in to steady you. “I believe you’re mistaking your audience.” he said, his tone carrying both humor and restraint.

You blinked, your intoxicated brain struggling to process the situation. Then, your gaze shifted, landing on Sunday’s halo. “Oh, right!” you exclaimed, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You! I meant you!”

Robin burst into laughter, her melodic voice echoing through the room. “Oh, this is priceless.”

Sunday, maintaining his composure, leaned down to meet your gaze. “While I appreciate your artistic passion,” he said smoothly, “I fear your request might be better suited for sober conversation.”

The IPC gala was a hub of high-stakes networking, dazzling lights, and endless champagne. You, an artist with an eye for detail, found yourself amidst the extravagance, clutching your sketchbook like a lifeline. Aventurine and Topaz had invited you along, each promising you’d find inspiration among the elite.

You had taken them at their word, sketching furiously as your muses moved through the crowd. Aventurine, with his flamboyant overcoat and peacock feather earring, exuded charisma that demanded attention. Topaz, on the other hand, carried herself with a composed confidence, her hair catching the gala’s light.

Hours later, you were drunk. Not tipsy, not buzzed—drunk. Your sketchbook was open to a page filled with Aventurine’s smirk and Topaz’s sharp gaze. The champagne had loosened your inhibitions, and you found yourself staring at Aventurine’s eyes.

“You’re like… a painting.” you slurred, pointing at him.

Aventurine, ever the gambler, leaned forward with an amused grin. “Am I now? Flatter me more.”

Topaz rolled her eyes, sipping her wine. “They’re drunk. Don’t encourage them.”

But you were already gesturing wildly. “I gotta ask. It’s important. Life-changing, even!” You turned—or at least thought you turned—to Aventurine, but your gaze locked on Topaz instead.

“Will you model naked for me?” you blurted.

Topaz choked on her drink, glaring at you with wide eyes. “Excuse me?!”

Aventurine burst into laughter, clapping a hand to his chest. “Oh, this is rich. I think they meant me, darling.”

You blinked, confused, before swiveling toward Aventurine. “Wait, yeah! You! You’re, like… perfection. I need to capture it!”

Topaz shook her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

Aventurine leaned closer, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he purred. “But we’ll discuss terms when you’re sober.”

Topaz snorted. “You’re both ridiculous.”

And in your drunken haze, you could only laugh, thrilled by the chaotic charm of your muses.

[filisite]

When will she become an artist:

Loak:

He looks at the sketches of the people in your album and starts hooting.

- Just look at how many naked women there are, [your name]. Giggling, he looked at you and returned to the drawings.

He especially likes to look at your sketches and wag his tail. And he likes it even more when he is painted. If he were on earth, he would gladly buy all your portraits. He's the kind of person who would ask you to draw this or anything at all.

Neteyam:

- I really like the way you draw every detail... He runs his fingers over the dried paint as carefully as possible. - From an early age, you drew the best of all, it was not for nothing that they said that you were talented! The guy exclaimed. He really likes what you do, not everyone is given such patience and hard work for the sake of what they love.

Spider:

– Draw me a spider! – He batted his eyelashes, waiting for you to answer. He already has a thousand of your drawings from childhood. When you picked up a pencil, the Spider always asked him to draw something. But right now his most favorite drawing is the one where you depicted him as a na'vi. He really likes it.

Kiri:

- Draw a Spider in the form of a monkey... –She covered her snide smile with her hand, imagining her heavenly friend's reaction. She keeps each of your drawings with her. Kiri loves it when you draw sky people and na'vi. As she says, you feel the colors, you can draw what is inside every living person.

Ao'nung:

-And how can such small fingers do this? - the guy praised you again, in his own way. He doesn't admit it directly, but he really admires your work. When they start tattooing his body, the future leader will first ask you to draw him sketches, you will be trusted more in this regard. And then other water na'vi will ask you to tattoo them too. You will get your place in the clan

Tsireya:

-Did someone teach you this or did you learn it on your own? - Tsirea asks interestedly, holding the Na'vi drawings in her hands. They seem alive to her, how is that possible? It was simply impossible in their minds, but you are capable of creating living art.She always looked into your eyes with disbelief and admiration when she saw your drawings.

Rotxo:

-Don't listen to Ao'nung, he just doesn't know how to give compliments. - Roto smiles innocently as he watches you draw something again on the thin white leaves, or papers as you call them. There is no limit to his delight: Roto has offered to have you make patterns on the bodies for his clan. The boy, like Ao'nung, will ask [your name] to draw him patterns for his second birthday.

Norm Spellman:

Prayers Spellman... "Not again, Jesus..." but they didn't help him, and once again his work was rejected. Norm, of course, was pleased and proud of his future artist, but why should he have to endure all this suffering, the loss of his papers.....

The scientist saved all your scribbles from your childhood, and now he looks at them with a smile. What a cheeky little kid you were with colors all over your face. There are many children's drawings hanging above his desk, including your favorite one of the whole Spellman family.