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the-travelling-witch · 1 year ago

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𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐒

summary: being thrown into the devildom unexpectedly can pose all kind of challenges for a human, from cultural differences to practical ones like an empty closet; luckily, asmo knows a demon who can help solve that last problem

pairing: dantalion (my oc) x gn! reader

warnings: insecurities (reader) but with a lot of comfort

obey me! masterlist || dantalion masterlist

You were not quite sure who thought it’d be a brilliant idea to basically kidnap a human for an exchange programme supposed to unite the three realms or who signed off on it but the fact of the matter was, you were here now. Whether anyone could have thought about a more harmonious and less overwhelming introduction would remain a discussion for another day.

In any case, what would have been rather helpful, no matter how you looked at the situation, would have been a note letting you know to pack accordingly. As it was, you were standing in an entirely new realm without so much more than the clothes on your back, let alone any form of skin, hair and other hygiene products.

You were as grateful as you could be for the RAD uniform you were provided with, which would be a lot easier if it at least fit you a little better. The next morning at breakfast, none of the brothers could pretend it was the right size for you and something had to be done for the sake of Diavolo’s exchange programme.

“Mammon, take the human to Majolish after classes today and have their uniform altered,” Lucifer said without looking up from his newspaper, his voice leaving little room for disagreement.

Yet, the Avatar of Greed still managed to find it. “Do I have ta? There’s a shadow horse race in the afternoon.”

“I volunteer!” An excited voice chimed into the conversation and you looked over to see Asmodeus basically glowing with anticipation. “But maybe I deserve some kind of reward for taking care of the human when it’s not my job.”

“Fine,” Lucifer pinched the space between his brows with an exasperated sigh, “I’ll cover some of your inevitable expenses.”

“You’re the best, Luci~”

And with that you found yourself waiting for Asmo at the front gate of RAD where Mammon had unceremoniously dropped you off. As nervous as you were to go to the establishment the Avatar of Lust had been raving about all day, you were looking forward to not keeping your head down in the hallways after this day. Being an exchange student made you interesting enough, being an exchange student with ill-fitted clothes made you the talk in the hallways.

“Don’t look so glum, hon, you’ll spoil the fun of shopping,” Asmo greeted you before immediately dragging you along in the direction of the shopping district.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you tried not to trip over your own feet in an effort to keep up with him. He had quite the power-walk when there was something he wanted, it seemed. “I just can’t help but be a little nervous when you talk about someone else so favourably.”

“Who? Oh, Talion, you mean?” He giggled, clearly amused you’d stress over something like this. “Don’t worry, he’s an absolute sweetheart, even to demons who aren’t exactly me. You’ll be fine.”

As comforting -for lack of a better word- as his words were, you started to doubt them when you stood in front of a store looking like it wasn’t just leagues but realms out of both your price and social class. There wasn’t a single speck of dirt on the crystalline glass windows sporting the gold-foiled lettering of the Majolish brand.

There was little time for you to reconsider your decision to come here though as your shopping buddy was already breezing through the doors of the shop. If you thought the outside of Majolish was impressive, the inside had you actively reminding yourself to breathe. Confronted with mirror-smooth black marble floors and pristine white walls, you almost didn’t dare look up.

Yet, what would normally be a set up for a cold room, the atmosphere was lightened by the colourful plants and golden accents distributed around the room. And that didn’t even take into consideration the clothes lining the walls or the jewellery displayed. Just who was the demon running a store this lavish?

“Talion!” Asmo sing-songed without a care. “It’s me!”

“Ah Asmo, what a pleasant surprise,” a melodic voice sounded from the top of the stairs. Following it with your eyes, your jaw almost dropped onto the polished floors. For the first time since coming to the Devildom, you questioned Asmo’s claims of being the most beautiful demon around.

The stranger was tall and slender with legs for days and hair so silky he might as well have been an elven prince walking straight out of a human fantasy novel. As he floated down the stairs, you got to appreciate the way his dark blue dress pants and white dress shirt accentuated his waist.

The attention-grabber of his outfit would have to be the coat he had thrown over his shoulders. Somehow, the bright turquoise and vibrant green of the coat worked well together and complimented the hairpin he had used to secure half of his ivory blond hair at the back of his head. With every click of his heels on the stairs, the jingling of his golden jewellery echoed through the room, but rather than annoying it was entrancing. You weren’t sure if many others could pull off a look like that and look so sinfully handsome while doing it.

Most intriguing despite all of this, however, were the bright eyes mustering you from behind round, blue-stained glasses. You couldn’t quite tell which colour they really were but they were beautiful nonetheless. Then, the demon turned his attention to your companion as he came to a halt in front of you.

“Well then, my friend, to what do I owe the honour?” A pleasant smile played around his lips before casting his glance in your direction again. “Though I can make an educated guess already.”

Your face heated up at the probable implication that you were so shabby it needed his immediate help. Granted, you were no demon and you had no access to any of your usual care products or makeup, but was it really that bad?

“Mh yes, can you alter their uniform for a better fit? Nobody knew their size before the exchange programme started,” Asmo sighed. “So, gracious as I am, I took it upon myself to bring them here.”

“Without any ulterior motive, of course,” the man chuckled. “Since you are oh so gracious, would perhaps also do us the honour of introducing us?”

“Oh right,” Asmo said, clearly having skipped over this courtesy already in his mind. He courtly introduced you before gesturing at his friend. “And this is Dantalion, the owner of Majolish.”

Why were you not surprised Asmo personally knew the owner of a fashion store?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, truly. May I?” Turning to you with his full attention this time, you needed a second to understand what he was getting at, before you noticed his manicured hand hovering over your shoulder. At your consent, pristine nails picked at your uniform. “Oh dear, what a crime. I should have an earnest word with Diavolo about how he treats his exchange students. Perhaps you should sue him.”

“I’m not sure if I should sue the Prince of the Devildom on my second day here,” you laughed nervously.

“It would make you super famous I bet,” Asmo chimed in, already surveying the clothing hangers around him.

“A strong point against doing that, then,” you deadpanned. “I’ll bring it to his attention but for now I just want a uniform that fits.”

“Understandably so. How could you feel comfortable when you’re not even properly dressed?” In the faintest of touches, his slender fingers rested against your upper back as he steered you up the stairs and to the back of the store. “Asmo, make yourself at home, though I doubt you need the encouragement. I will take care of this little gem in the meantime.”

You didn’t quite catch your housemate’s response, too busy determining if you misheard or if the tint of his glasses obscured his vision. Before you could reach a conclusion, Dantalion had already led you to stand on a circular, elevated platform far away from the bustle of customers browsing the store. Perhaps you should feel at least a little twinge of uneasiness, being alone with a demon you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel an ounce of malintent coming from him. Plus, Asmo seemed to deem it safe, so you could blame it on him if something happened.

“Now, I must ask you to take off your blazer, so I can take your measurements. Don’t worry, I won’t ask any more of you.” He waited patiently for you to shrug off your jacket and hand it to him, before neatly folding it and placing it on a table. “Please lift your arms… Just like that, perfect.”

The next minutes were a blur of a measuring tape wizzing around you without any of Dantalion’s physical help while a turquoise quill hovered in front of you, scribbling down measurements you presumed. The demon merely surveyed the scene and the notes from behind his shades. Then, the flurry stopped and all utensils neatly tucked themselves away.

“There you go, all done,” Dantalion smiled at you as he extended a hand to help you off the pedestal. “Now that the boring formalia is done, we can go over to the fun part.”

“The fun part?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought I only came here to get my uniform altered.”

“Darling, based on what I’ve seen so far, I’d venture a guess to say your wardrobe isn’t exactly bursting with clothes, is it? Plus, I’d assume you’d feel more comfortable with a change of clothes while I fix the ones you’re currently wearing,” he said, his calming voice surrounding you as he let you down another hall. You hadn’t even thought about that. “Besides, it’d be a first if Asmodeus was done already.

“Now, then…” Dantalion pushed up his shades as he looked at you, tilting his head to the side and bringing a hand to his chin in contemplation. With a clear view of his eyes, you understood why you couldn’t place their colour earlier. It was like looking into an iridescent kaleidoscope, changing colour as he turned his head. “Ah I see, I think I have the perfect idea.”

That was how you found yourself in a changing room, a multitude of clothes folded on the chair and hanging from the fixtures, all coordinated into their own outfits already. Dantalion implored you to take your time and tell him immediately if something wasn’t to your liking.

Picking the first outfit, you quickly slipped on the different pieces only to be surprised that not only the size was on point but also the colour and fabric were to your liking. How he knew to pick a style you had always wanted to try but felt was a bit too out of your comfort zone was beyond you, but you couldn’t help but feel excited rather than intimidated by his choice.

When you exited the changing room, Dantalion took your crumpled uniform from you before studying his work. Skilled hands smoothed out any wrinkles that might have appeared and masterfully tucked your clothes to sit just right.

“That’s much better, isn’t it? It’s amazing how much the right clothes can help in bringing out one’s natural beauty.” Dantalion reached for a box on the desk next to him, where a wide range of jewellery and accessories were arranged. “I believe the human world has a saying that goes as follows: ‘Clothes make the man’. I am inclined to agree even if not fully.”

“Well, even the nicest clothes can’t turn someone into a diamond,” you let slip before screwing your mouth shut. Perhaps it was the nerves from the new environment or how comfortable you felt around Dantalion but you really didn’t think now was the time for a pity party. “Sorry, I— The clothes you chose really are beautiful but it’s still me who’s wearing them.”

“Yes, it’s true that not everyone is diamond.” With a finger under your chin, he gracefully lifted your head to meet his mesmerising eyes. There was no mockery in them, instead they softened around the edges as his voice enveloped you like a gentle breeze. “But gems are hardly the only beautiful thing around.

“The shine of a diamond cannot be compared to the softness of silk, the luminosity of a star or the sweet melody of a song.” Even as his hand left your skin, you didn’t find the strength to pull away from his gaze. “A diamond hardens under pressure but a flower requires loving care and gentle treatment to thrive or it will wilt. Similarly, it makes no sense to compare the beauty unique to us to that of someone else. And we all have different needs which need to be met in order for us to glow our brightest.”

“It’s hard to disagree with you when you put it that way,” you chuckled lightly, feeling a little lightheaded from the sincerity with which he soothed your worries. Could he really be a demon?

“That’s the truth I’ve come to learn after doing my job for the last couple of centuries,” Dantalion responded in an amused chuckle. As he leant in to fasten the clasp of a necklace in your nape, you caught a trace of his scent which you already missed the second he pulled away to fix the pendant resting against your skin.

“Be that as it may, even a gem can’t hold out under constant pressure. It will crack sooner or later. You have to cut and polish it once it has hardened, and then—,” Dantalion’s eyes lit up with a spark of mischief before he reached for your hand and quickly spun you around like a dancer, “Then, you must show it off, wouldn’t you agree?”

You were staring straight ahead into a mirror, his hand still holding yours while his other steadied you by the hip. Looking at your own reflection hasn’t always been the easiest thing. Flaws and insecurities had the nasty habit of clamouring for your attention the loudest, whereas your strengths took a quiet backseat. But for the first time, it was as if you were looking at yourself not through your own but through the eyes of someone else.

The fabric of your outfit draped around you just right, accentuating certain features of your body that sculpted your physique flatteringly. The colours complimented your natural complexion in a way that made your skin glow even without the sunlight and the jewellery brought your attention to all the right places.

“How does that feel?” He asked, his voice low so it wouldn’t shatter the atmosphere surrounding the two of you.

“Good… It feels really good, Dantalion.” You met his iridescent eyes through the mirror again when a pleased hum left him at your praise.

“Earlier you said it was still ‘just you’ who wore these clothes,” he said, hands coming up to smooth over your shoulders. “But I do not see what’s so wrong with that. After all, I chose these clothes just for you.”

“I see the error of my ways,” you joked and you realised you felt completely relaxed for the first time since you arrived in the Devildom. “I don’t know how I could thank you enough.”

“Oh nonsense, dear, it’s my job,” he waved you off. His earrings jingled as he flicked a strand of hair back over his shoulder. “If you really want to thank me, you could try on the rest of the clothes I prepared for you. It’s not often I get to dress humans, so I’d love if you could indulge me.”

A few hours later, you met up with Asmodeus at the entrance, who was holding even more bags than you. When he saw you, he appreciatively flicked his sunset-coloured eyes over you, from head to toe and back up.

“My my, our human cleans up nicely. It’s a shame you’ll have to wear your uniform most of the time,” Asmo said as he winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You seem to have been rather successful yourself,” you pointed out, eyeing his shopping bags.

“Of course, everything looks good on me after all,” he beamed and you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed with him. Then, his eyes lit up with what was either something amazing or a soon-to-be headache. “Ooh, I just had a great idea! Let’s have a little fashion show in my room once we get back, I’ll even do your nails!”

“How could I refuse?” You sighed but it lacked any actual bite.

Dantalion had watched your banter quietly but his curling lips and crinkling eyes gave away his amusement, even behind the shades he put on again. Clearing his throat when your conversation seemed to lull, he caught your attention and handed you another bag.

“Your uniform,” he explained when he saw the confusion in your eyes. “You can hardly go to RAD without it.”

“Oh but— Don’t you have to keep it to alter it?”

“Come on, look around, hon,” Asmo slung an arm around your shoulders and made a sweeping gesture to the shop around you. “Altering clothes is as easy as breathing to him, what did you think how long he’d take?”

“You flatter me, my friend,” Dantalion chimed in. “He is right though, I took care of it while you were trying on new clothes.”

“It’s- I—“ You knew that magic was incredibly efficient yet it perplexed you regardless. “You’re pretty amazing, huh?”

For a moment so brief you might have imagined it, his brows shot up in surprise before his face smoothed over again and he gifted you another award-winning smile.

“I will take your high praise to heart,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I’ve put all your expenses on Diavolo’s tab, so don’t worry about that. Asmo, I see Lucifer is paying for your entire haul?”

“Jup, that’s right~”

“Wait, can you just do that?” You weighed in. “I mean, having Lord Diavolo pay for my things.”

“It’s my store, so… Yes, I can,” Dantalion stated matter-of-factly. “I am under the impression that as an exchange student, Diavolo should ensure you’re not lacking anything during your stay in the Devildom. Besides, how can he expect you to fulfil your duties to the programme when you can’t even present yourself comfortably? You may quote me on this if he has a problem with it, which I consider to be highly unlikely.”

“Thank you so much,” you sincerely said. Again. “I still feel like I should repay you somehow.”

“You should be careful with saying something like this to a demon,” he said, a spark of something you couldn’t quite pinpoint flashing behind his frames before it was gone just as quickly. “If you really are this keen on doing something for me, perhaps you’d find the time to stop by again soon. I’d love to hear more about human world fashion. Perhaps we could run an edition of Devil Style on it…”

“Before you get too carried away, Talion,” Asmo interrupted, “we really have to get going or Luci’s going to flip. We should really catch up again soon though!”

“You’re right, we should, ” Dantalion said as he showed you to the door. When Asmo had already sauntered out of the door, you turned to the tall demon trying to find the right words to say but he beat you to it. “It really was a pleasure to meet you, little gem. Be safe on your way home and remember you are always welcome here.”

Like earlier, his slender fingers caught yours and he brought your hand up to his soft lips, which brushed the back of your hand in a featherlight kiss. For the millionth time this day, your face turned into a furnace as his eyes found yours over the rim of his glasses. Just when you thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, his eyes narrowed triumphantly and a playful smirk tugged at his plush lips and your heart might have skipped a beat.

The moment which felt like an eternity, but in reality only counted a few seconds, was cut short when Asmo called for you to hurry it up. Releasing you from what only could’ve been a spell, Dantalion held the door open for you as you frantically searched for something to say.

“I’ll see you soon then,” was what you finally settled on, voice slightly unsteady with the pulse still beating in your ears.

“I look forward to it,” he smiled pleasantly before nudging you in the direction of Asmodeus. “You should go now. Demons aren’t known to be the most patient when there’s something they desire.”

As Majolish’s doors swung shut behind you and you rejoined your housemate, you turned his last statement over in your head. You felt like there was more to it but couldn’t put a finger on it. Perhaps you’d ask Dantalion about it the next time you’d see him.

For now, you were content to simply relive the events of the day, met with iridescent colours each time you closed your eyes, the soft fabric of your new clothes enveloping you.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#┊om! oc: dantalion ೃ༄#obey me #x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #dantalion x reader #obey me oc #obey me oc x reader #obey me dantalion

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little-pup-pip · 11 months ago

Note

Just curious, what requests do you have in your queue/to do currently? If you're ok with saying it that is :]

Oh boy, that's a bigger question than last time someone asked! I have over 200 waiting requests at this point!! Because of that this got very very long, so I put the rest under the cut! Like last time, this is in order of how recently I received the request, and doesn't mean I'm too busy to take new requests!!

Ibara saegusa (enstars)

Monochrome oranges cats and angels

Gloomy bear

Another rockruff (maybe)

Cult of the lamb (specifically the lamb)

Llewellyn Watts (Murdoch Mysteries)

Jake (trailer park warlock)

Cult of the lamb (pet dreaming themed)

Bear therian

Selkie

Ice bear (we bare bears)

Tubbo (maybe)

Snow leopard

Pink

Australian shepherd (pupre)

Cassie (fnaf: ruin)

Draik (neopets)

The rainbow fish

Black kitten + space

Pumpkin head (maybe, needs more research)

Alice in wonderland

Sheep

Someone's OC Avery & siblings

Gothic

Star catcher (MLP)

Masc version of my druid board

Scrooge CG (2009 film)

Beetlejuice

Superstar daycare (fnaf)

1950s + ocean

Pandas + light purple and black

Dandelions

Willy wonka CG (recent movie)

Maki Harukawa (Danganronpa)

Kidcore Halloween + pumpkin puppy Webkinz

Fruit bat

Mermaid

Pastel purple + pandas

Robocar Poli

Brown, lime green and forest green puppy

Weird Barbie CG

Shiny Vaporeon

Where the wild things are

Squid

Dylan (the magic roundabout)

Conner CG (Detroit become human)

Mitsuri kanroji (demon slayer)

Minecraft mooshrooms

Sharks or wolves (haven't decided)

Hot Wheels

Miffy

Fox

Sharks

Zombies

Vincent (dead plate)

Vintage kitty dreaming

Deadpool

Shane CG (stardew valley)

Wolf pup

Celestia and Luna (MLP)

Soft blue and yellow

Pascal (animal crossing)

Pastel blue and pink

Batman CG

Ram

Osamu dazai (bungo stray dogs)

Dylan (the quarry)

Rain/nature + white rabbits

Penguin + dinosaur

Noah (total drama island)

Vision CG (marvel)

Light blue

Bumble bees + lavender

Yellow + ducks

Bearded vulture

Barn owl

Queen barb (trolls world tour)

Oliver (vocaloid)

Light green light brown and beige

Mind (Chonny Jash/CCCC)

Cinnamoroll + emu otori (project sekai)

Yellow+ chicks and puppy stuffies

Seam CG (deltarune)

Plants vs zombies

Viktor (arcane)

Queen of trash CG (Elmo goes to grouch land)

John Constantine (Justice League Dark)

Aziraphale (good omens)

Scenecore

Musa (winx club)

Leap frog

Hyper feminine puppy

Crow + black cat

Totodile + bodies of water

Bees

Sackboy (Little Big Planet) and or My Melody

Baby crocodile

Animal crossing

Pastel kitten

Doki doki literature club

Keralis (Hermitcraft, maybe)

90s grunge

Tula tones (novi stars)

Eevee + dragons

Kitten + stars

Ratchet (rescue bot academy)

Pastel shark

Mikan Tsumiki (Danganronpa)

Mushrooms

Grey + Ross federman youtooz

Sparkly dragon

Blue and purple + puppies

Ducks + alt/Gothic lean

Cinnamoroll

Shadow (sonic)

Jellyfish

Boyfriend.xml (Friday night funkin')

Puppet (fnaf)

Golden retriever + yellow and blue

Bernese mountain dog

Strawberries

Genshin impact

Len or Miku

Toothless (httyd)

Eddworld

Donnie (rise of the tmnt)

The princess and the grilled cheese sandwich

Pastel goth princess

SpongeBob

Karako Pierot (hiveswap)

Young Michael Afton

Soft fox

Great pyrenees + farm

Ike eveland

Invader Zim + neon green

Julius Caesar (Octavian, night at the museum, waiting until March for this one)

Scorpion

Vampire squid

Golden retriever (again, lol)

Cats + playing outside

Border Collie

Tiger

Argos CG (World of Mr. Plant)

Pochacco

Mortal Kombat

marble cross fox/forest/fantasy (I'm figuring this one out still)

Puppy + SpongeBob

characters from Project Sekai, Hoshino Ichika, Mochizuki Honami, Akiyama Mizuki and Kusanagi Nene.

Baby vulture

Frog with more fem themes

Rain world/slugcat

Dark academia/cottagecore

Border Collie

Modded smash hit rooms

Crying child (fnaf)

Agent Smith CG (the matrix)

Katamari

Enjolras (les miserable)

Rolfe DeWolfe CG (Rockafire Explosion)

Bugbo

Slime rancher

Puppet (fnaf)

CosMc's

Parado (Kamen Rider)

Tally hall

Gordon (all engines go)

Spinel (Steven universe)

Cater diamond (twisted wonderland)

Rockabilly (probably)

Felix Lee

Jing yuan CG (Hsr)

Charles Xavier CG (X-Men)

Toki wartooth (metalocalypse)

Naoto Shirogane (persona 4)

Kitoto (I don't know what he's from)

17th century dutch

Sirena von boo (monster high)

Jake (miss peregrines home for peculiar children)

Minecraft

Sees behind trees

Allay (Minecraft, I think)

Spinosaurus screenshots or products

Tecchou (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Barbara (genshin impact)

Tasmanian devil

Spamton CG (deltarune)

Spinosaurus

Grunge + lop eared bunnies

Yume-Nikki

Daxter (jak and daxter)

Madness combat for puppies

James Sunderland (silent Hill)

Shirokuma (Danganronpa)

Leo (IDW comic)

#this took a while #a couple hours i think #but i don't mind because it's a fair question!#i also discovered a bunch of non request things that i didn't see!!#for people who sent those I'm sorry!#I'll respond shortly!#anyway no colored text for this because too much text #I'm curious which ones people are most excited about #and if you're wondering why most requests with people say maybe #it's because i need to research the people first #to make sure I'm comfortable with them #and that their face is okay to put on my account #anyway thats all #i hope you like reading anon!#Pip's barks

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bluestar22x · 5 months ago

Text

Complicated

The Writing Contest - Chapter 7: Complicated

Summary: Nora meets Nick and Javi's complicated past is revealed

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 3,660(ish)

Warnings: Angst, fowl language

Author’s Note: This is the most angst I can muster for this sweet fluffy fic

xxx

"This place is beautiful, Javi," you observed, taking in all your surroundings from the white fabric chair you were seated upon.

The restaurant you were both inside looked like it should be a museum showing off classical art rather than serving food with its white marble arches and the cupid carvings that lined them and the white walls.

Almost everything was white with a bare minimum of gold trim added to highlight the building's stunning design. Even in the massive but dimly lit main dining room it was a marvel to study.

"I thought you might appreciate it after our last date," Javi said with a proud smile on his face.

Your previous date, your second official one, had been at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles and before you'd even gone inside you'd spilled your guts about how beautiful you thought the building looked from the street.

You were both impressed and touched Javi had remembered after all your blabbering about the animal exhibits and fossils.

"It's easy on the eyes and it's got an amazing atmosphere," you declared. Very romantic, you thought. "I just hope the food is half as good."

"I've been here a few times before," Javi told you. "I've heard the food is delicious. Made by one of the most renowned chefs in the country."

"I'll see for myself," you said, not convinced. "Janice's Diner is going to be hard to beat."

Javi chuckled and you smiled at the sound, but you were being serious. Janice's Diner was a little gem you'd found on your own during your first weekend as an official Angelino. It was just a block from your apartment and it reminded you of home. Quiet, unimpressive, aged, but cozy. And the diner happened to serve the best veggie burger you'd ever tasted.

It was also the location you'd chosen for your first date with Javi. He'd loved the burger too. Or so he'd claimed. You were certain he was being honest, but you were also certain this restaurant, with its fancy French name and ancient looking design was much more his style.

You didn't see it as a barrier to your relationship anymore. You saw it as a gateway to getting out of your comfort zone, and for him to get out of his. Janice's Diner was the first time you'd ever seen Javi in a Henley, and even though you'd picked it out for him as a gift, when you first saw him in it you almost combusted.

You'd been thankful you hadn't chosen plaid.

"Did you try the wine yet?" Javi questioned.

You shook your head. "Too busy admiring everything. Did you?"

"I did," he replied, taking another sip right after he spoke. "It's splendid. You must try it."

You grinned. "Javi giving a glowing review to the competition. Scandalous." You shielded your mouth with a hand like you were covering a jaw drop, your shock.

"I'd never lie about good wine," he told you. "Now, your turn."

He nodded at your glass and you tipped it against your lips for a small taste. You'd never be able to properly describe the wine like a connoisseur could, but it was good. Very good. Its smoothness rivaled Javi's wines.

"Wow. Where is this wine from?"

"France," Javi answered. "It's from one of the most prestigious vineyards in the world."

"I don't wanna hurt your feelings but..."

"It's better than any Valley View wine," he finished for you. "I am far from offended. We are not in the same league nor need to be. We are much more affordable."

You'd seen what Valley View's wines sold at. You weren't sure you wanted to know how much the bottle of wine sitting on the table between you cost.

You swallowed another small amount of the wine then turned your attention to the menu set before you and your jaw almost dropped for real.

Every meal on the menu was over five hundred dollars. "Holy crap it's expensive here!" You gasped, barely managing to keep your shocked voice low enough so your neighbors didn't hear.

"You are worth it," Javi declared, warmth blanketing his every word.

He was too sweet. Crazy, but sweet. You scanned the menu for the cheapest meal available that you knew you would enjoy. When the waiter came around you ordered crab and shrimp etouffee, one of the few dish names you recognized. The price was new though. You wondered humorously if flecks of gold were peppered on top.

"Javi?" a distant voice called out, trying for quiet but failing.

You both glanced up and down the rows of tables before you, eyes falling on a man in a gray pinstripe suit and a woman in a shimmering red dress with an updo that took years off her.

You recognized them as a couple from the tabloids, but you also knew the man from at least a dozen movies you'd watched with Sierra.

"Nick! Olivia!" Javi exclaimed, jumping to his feet and hugging his friend with a broad smile on his face. “What a surprise meeting you here!"

"It's more of a surprise seeing you here," Nick countered as they pulled apart. "Are you in town for a promotional event?"

Javi shook his head. "We are here for presumably the same reason you are."

"A date?" Olivia prodded, curiosity piqued.

"Si." Javi gestured at you with a hand. "This is Nora Delaine. Nora, Nick and Olivia Cage."

"Hi," you waved at them awkwardly. "Neither of you really needed to be introduced to me."

"You didn't need an introduction either," Nick promised you. "I remember you and your friend. Tell Sierra hello."

"She'll die," you warned him and he guffawed.

"But she survived our video chat?"

"Hardly."

He grinned. "Well, tell her anyway." He then turned to Javi. "We'll leave you two to enjoy your date, but you should swing by our home after, Jav. You too, Nora. It would be nice to catch up. Play a game. It's been a while."

Javi's hopeful eyes fell on you, a plea for you to agree to it, and you smiled. "I would love to, if you're up for it, Javi?"

"Always," he said enthusiastically. "What time should we arrive?"

"Nine?" Olivia suggested, eyes meeting Nick's. He bobbed his head in agreement.

"Sounds good to me," you said and Javi nodded.

Nick patted his friend's back as he and Olivia walked past your table. "Great. See you both then. Bring your bottle of wine. I've never tried that one."

"Sure." Javi beamed, giddy.

Adorable, you thought.

Your date with Javi went smoothly as usual, a product of having been friends long before you were something more. It was a relief to be dating someone you already felt comfortable and safe with because you knew him.

The only disappointment that resulted from the outing was your meal. It was excellent, tasty, the best shrimp you'd had, but it didn't have gold flakes mixed into it like you thought it should have at its price.

You left the restaurant in high spirits as you often were in Javi's presence, delighted by a pleasant night out with a handsome man whose kiss you could swear actually made your stomach flip.

It was nearly ten o'clock by the time you arrived at the Cage's residence with your nearly half empty bottle of wine. Their mansion was even bigger than Javi's, but you were greeted happily by the recently remarried couple.

Olivia broke out wine glasses for everyone and a couple bottles of one of the most expensive kinds of wine Javi's vineyard sold, and you all settled down in the entertainment room. It was fancy like the rest of the mansion, but didn't contain a lot of furniture besides the three couches and two chairs that almost circled the massive TV on one side of the room. The remaining space was filled in by an actual bar with four stools and a pool table.

You felt like you were in a club rather than a home.

"We should play Pictionary to pass the night," Olivia suggested.

You lit up at the idea. "Yes! Girls vs. guys."

Olivia grinned. "Sounds like a fair game. What do you say boys? We'll even let you go first."

"Sounds like we've already won the game," Nick boasted playfully with a smirk.

"Right," she scoffed. "We'll see about that."

You sat together on two couches as couples, but you were as far separated as you could be through that night's friendly competition.

Javi started the game off with a fake kick and a headbutt to the air, and everyone quickly got what his gestures meant.

"Soccer!" Nick shouted surely, finger pointing as he downed a good amount of the wine he’d poured out from the restaurant bottle.

"Football," Javi corrected, "But si."

You, Nick, and Olivia all groaned at his insistence.

"I bet the card says soccer," Nick mumbled and you laughed.

"Alright, my turn!" Olivia declared happily, placing her glass on the coffee table before her.

She picked a card and studied it for a few seconds before standing in front of the TV, looking at you confidently as Nick flipped the timer.

She leaned her head back and started running her fingers through her hair that had been pulled loose and you immediately knew what she was portraying. "Showering!"

She nodded and gave you a high five on the way back to her seat. "We're going to fuckin' smoke them!"

"No contest," you added, grinning ear to ear. You probably hadn't even known Olivia for an hour yet, but you already liked her.

"Big talk," Nick said, "But I'm up next."

He took the center stage of everyone's attention and started silently acting out popping something round into his mouth.

"Pills!" Javi exclaimed. Nick shook his head.

"Grapes!"

"Yes!" Nick nodded.

Then it was your turn. Javi took control of the timer and you got to work.

Your card having been mime, you started doing the classic "invisible box" performance with a bewildered look on your face.

Olivia giggled a little. "Mime. Definitely a mime."

"We need more difficult cards!" Javi declared, digging out another stack from the game box.

You were several rounds in before the cards actually started getting hard to act out, and it wasn't because you were all a little buzzed.

Then you finally hit one Javi couldn't figure out before the timer ended, despite Nick shooting everyone in the room with an imaginary gun and flashing his invisible badge at your bodies after.

"Argh, you just about named every other law enforcement agency in the book!" Nick exclaimed in frustration. "You'd think after being surveillanced by the CIA it would be the first to spring to mind!"

You blinked as his words set in, confused. "Why would the CIA have been interested in Javi?"

Everyone stared at you. Javi's expression turned into one of panic.

Nick whipped his head around to look at his friend. "You didn't tell her?" He shook his head in grim disapproval.

"There was never a right time!" Javi blurted, eyes darting around the room before falling on you. "I'm sorry I never told you."

"Told me what?" you asked wide-eyed, a panic of your own settling in.

"Everything in the movie was exaggerated," he replied quickly, "But it all happened. Hiring Nick for my party. My cousin. Nick's daughter getting kidnapped. All of it."

He'd conveniently left one major detail out of it.

"You were part of a cartel?" you gasped. Your sweet Javi was actually a criminal?

"The face of it," he amended in a rush. "I never wanted to be a part of it. My cousin forced me to. I had no choice!"

"There's always a choice, Javi!" you spat, anger flaring at his deflection.

He clamped his mouth shut and swallowed hard, eyes pleading with you, begging you to hear him out.

"I need a moment," you decided instead, feeling a need for it in your bones, the air in the room suddenly too stuffy.

You rushed out of the mansion onto its giant back porch that overlooked a pool with an attached hot tub and an artificial waterfall, so close to sobbing that it got caught in your throat.

You were consumed by the emotions coursing through you. Anger. Hurt. Fear. And lost in the lingering memories of your first flight to California, when you'd watched The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent for the first and only time.

It'd been such a silly little movie. You hadn't considered that the parody of Javi and Nick's first meeting could have had any basis in reality. People weren't part of cartels. That didn't exist in your sheltered little world.

The one that had just been shattered with one sentence.

Nick had always had a flair with the one liners.

You were surprised but grateful that Javi didn't follow you out immediately, Nick and Olivia having probably warned him not to, to give you the time you needed to process and cool off.

When he finally did walk out onto the porch to join you, you leaned on the railing in front of you and waited, unsure of what you wanted to say to him. What you wanted to ask.

"I'm so sorry, Nora," he said lowly, ashamed. "I should've told you sooner. You deserved to know what kind of man you were getting into a relationship with."

You straightened up in your spot and craned your neck to watch his face. "And what kind of a man is that, Jav?"

"A coward," he answered, eyes unable to meet yours, self loathing evident in his voice. You'd never heard it before. Never realized there were emotions he'd bottled up around you. Ones you'd felt too many times before.

"For a long time I couldn't escape that life cause I was scared," he continued. "I knew if I left my cousin would find some way to drag me back in. Threaten the life I'd made for myself. Maybe even kill everyone I loved. He would've done it smiling." His expression turned darker than you'd ever seen it before. "I should've killed him myself. If I had, Nick wouldn't have had to do it. His daughter wouldn't have been kidnapped."

"Javi," you hesitated, not sure you wanted the truth to what you were about to ask. "Did you ever kill anyone?"

"No one that didn't deserve it," he replied.

You nodded. You could accept that. Your brother had killed too. It may have been for his country, but he'd still had blood on his hands, as noble as it was supposed to be.

It was because of your brother that you also had an idea of what taking a life cost. No matter how evil the enemy had been, your brother's conscious had never let him forget each time one of his bullets had dropped someone.

"I'm sorry you had to do that," you murmured.

He stared at you, surprised. "I thought you were furious at me."

You huffed. "I was and kinda still am. But not because of your past life. I assume if you really deserved to be in jail the CIA wouldn't have let you off easy, let alone hop the Atlantic to settle down in the US." You sucked in a breath. "It's the fact you kept it from me that bothers me. Because I DID deserve to know the truth. I've never kept anything from my past from you. Not on purpose. But I can recall times where I mentioned The Unbearable Weight or your family and you got all vague or changed the subject."

"I'm sorry," Javi gasped out, tears in his eyes. "It was selfish. I didn't want to lose you."

Your heart went out to him without your permission. Even after this huge, earth upturning reveal, you couldn't help but feel bad for being upset with him. He was a grown man, and you had good reason to be, but those soft brown eyes made your barriers weak.

"Make it up to me," you ordered him. "Tell me everything."

Once he started he couldn't stop. He told you about his father, how he was the head of their family's cartel, how he'd wanted him to take over when he died, but he'd refused. He hadn't been interested in that life at all, preferring his books and movies and the finer things in life to guns, and he told you about how enraged his father got when he tried to avoid him every time he wanted to teach Javi about their family business. The real one. Not the olive farm cover up that would have never allowed them to maintain their rich lifestyle. He'd blamed Javi's late mother, who had died in a car accident when he was twelve, for his son being too soft. For shielding him from that side of their lives for too long.

Javi had made amends with his father when he was hospitalized and dying from lung cancer, but with his death Javi traded one bully for an even greater one. His cousin Lucas.

With his lack of interest in his family's illegal sales of guns, his father had willed the business to Lucas, who had always been anxious to dig his claws into it. Most of the money had gone to Lucas too. The only thing Javi's father had left for him was the mansion and its surrounding property. Given, Javi could've sold it and moved away, like he had done after the events that ended with Lucas' death, but at the time he'd been young and unsure of what he wanted out of life. He only knew if he wanted to stay home, he'd need to bargain with Lucas. He couldn't continue to live his life as it was without some of the money his father had given to his cousin. And Lucas knew that. He gave Javi an ultimatum - become the face for their family's cartel or get out. Not knowing a better alternative at the time, Javi had accepted.

"It was easy to forget most of the time," he admitted. "I usually spent my days by the pool or on my boat or writing, hardly a care in the world. Until Lucas showed up needing me to meet someone for him for one of his shady deals and then the fantasy would be broken."

"He only let you stay to use you," you surmised. "With you pretending to be the head it kept the heat off of him. You were his shield. His decoy for both other cartels and all the federal agencies that might take interest in the cartel."

Javi nodded and sighed. "Saddest part is he pretended he was also doing it for my own good; that without his protection I'd be an even bigger target - and at the beginning I actually believed him. Wanted to. We were close growing up, almost like brothers, but after my father died, not long after my thirty-sixth birthday, that all changed. Lucas became completely blind to his power hunger."

"Who's running the business now that Lucas is dead?" you inquired nervously.

"One of Lucas' security team members," Javi answered. "We were the last of our family so they basically battled it out while I escaped, with the help of the CIA. In exchange for intel they gave me a passport to anywhere I wanted to go. I remembered visiting wine valley one autumn with my parents when I was eight or nine. It was a fond memory, even though I couldn't drink any of their products. Though if I remember correctly my father might have allowed me a taste from his glass once or twice."

"So no one's gonna come after you?" you quizzed. You were both worried for him and yourself. You may have been sheltered but you knew enough about cartels to know most people didn't leave one alive.

"No," Javi said. "I'm sure of it. The new boss isn't worrying about me. I'd be dead by now if that was the case."

"Well, that's reassuring," you muttered and he chuckled.

"Is there anything else you want to know?"

You frowned as you pondered it, then remembered the part in the movie where he and Nick took LSD for writing inspiration.

"Do you still take drugs?"

Javi's expression dropped again. You had a feeling he was recalling that your brother had succumbed to addiction. That you frowned on recreational drugs for that reason, no matter if they were hard to overdose on or not.

"Just weed," he assured you. "I stopped taking LSD when I arrived in the states. I didn't want to screw up the life I was building here. Didn't want to be caught with illicit drugs. So I only took legal ones."

"Good," you said, nodding.

"I can stop that too if it would make you feel better," he offered. "I don't want to lose you over a recreation."

You thought about agreeing to it, but something in you wanted to see middle ground. "I don't want to be that uptight girlfriend, especially when something is legal." For a few beats you mulled over what you could live with. "Edibles. You can still take edibles. I won't get upset. Just...use it responsibly."

A flash of surprise crossed his face, but Javi nodded. "Deal."

With your conversation over, the consequences of your the late night out and the wild emotions you'd just come down from sunk in. You were exhausted.

"Can we go back to my apartment now?"

"Certainly," he agreed. "Just let me tell Nick and Olivia we're going."

"I'll be in the car," you told him, grateful that he hadn't suggested you go in to say goodbye too, and that he was driving you home. You were barely able to keep your eyes open after you slid into the passenger seat and as he drove you back.

You were outside your apartment door in the empty hallway when another question sprung up in your head.

"Do you still have a room dedicated to props from Nick's movies?"

Javi frowned, hesitant to tell you, even after how much turmoil his lying had caused that night, but he eventually did the right thing and nodded solemnly. "I do."

"Show me next time I'm in the valley?" you inquired with no judgement in your tone. You'd taken a part in more than one fandom in your lifetime.

He couldn't help but beam at you, delighted that you were taking interest in his secret room, reassured that you didn't think it was crazy by the serious expression on your face.

"Of course."

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

#Javi G Fanfic (Mine)#OC Fanfic #The Writing Contest Series

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companionwolf · 3 months ago

Text

Wolf's 2024 [X]tober prompt picks

Angstober

- again [XCOM]

- curled up [XCOM]

- medication [XCOM]

- do better [Blaseball]

- dark sunrise [unsure]

- perfect [Blaseball]

Fictober

- no im not okay [various]

- we've done worse [Summer Afternoon]

- why are we doing this again [Summer Afternoon]

- you were the first [XCOM Starbound AU]

- no we're not doing that [XCOM Starbound AU]

Ageretober

- acoustic [Marble Hornets]

- puppy [Get in the Trunk]

- got your back [XCOM]

- tender loving care [various]

- am I no good? [various]

Selfshiptober

- no one can hear you scream [Heat Death]

- wake up [various]

- event horizon [Blaseball]

- never give up the fight [XCOM]

- one silver moment [various]

- you lead I follow [XCOM]

- after [SOMA]

Flufftober

- paw [XCOM]

- porch swing [XCOM post canon]

- yarn [XCOM?]

B Weird's OCtober

- new oc [Key Persona]

- fave oc [Ari 'Jacob' Katz]

- past [Morden Holloway]

- relationships [the Blackburn siblings]

- monster [James 'Lucky' Garrett]

- fears [Evander 'Ever' Rishon]

- ghost [unsure]

Weirdtober

- radio signal [Summer Afternoon]

- miles and miles of tunnels [Summer Afternoon]

- humanity's smallness [Summer Afternoon]

- forbidden knowledge [Summer Afternoon]

- non Euclidean geometry [Summer Afternoon]

Blasetober (used with my tabletop league, not canon)

- certified blaseball moment [Persona's combination failed incineration-successful Feedback resist]

- everyone loves a underdog [the Walks]

- crying in blaseball [... the Walks, again]

- incinerated [Dogwalker as the first to die]

- the hall of flame [the arrival of Lopez and Rebirth]

#wolf barking #tailstrokes #i. probably wont get even close to doing all of these but HEY

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sirspazingtonthefourth · 7 months ago

Text

A Well-Tempered Blade

Chapter 8: Unyielding Truth

Summary: Katherine has a lousy quirk. At least, that's what everyone says. After all, who would want to be able to mimic any sound they hear? That's no quirk for a hero. But Katherine's quirk is not mimicry, but something worse; something that would get her labelled a villain the second she revealed it. So to keep her family she hides her quirk, not even telling her closest friends her secret. But secrets must eventually come into the lights, and Katherine's are no exception. 1.6k/16k, no romance, angst? oc

A/N: Yeah, final chapter! I hope you've liked the fic up to this point, and if you have any remaining questions I would be more than happy to answer them. Just a little note that I thought was funny, this chapter should be releasing on the last day of my second semester of college. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

Content Warnings (will be announced by the chapter): Knives, praising suicide, death, blood, gore, I think? Let me know if I missed any.

It had been weeks since she had gone missing. There hadn’t even been so much as a mention of her disappearance. It made sense to Katherine. She had, after all, tried her very best to stay under the radar. But still, it hurt. She’d had a job, after all, and friends in her apartment building. Had they even filed a missing person’s report?

The League didn’t particularly mind. Less attention went to them that way. It meant their little plan could easily be carried out.

Dabi had quickly introduced Katherine to the rest of the League, after her surrender, and while some were more friendly, Dabi and Shigaraki seemed to have no qualms about holding her secret over her head at all times. She supposed the strategy had worked, though. She hadn’t even tried to run once.

Not even now.

“It’s the League of Villains!” someone screamed. People ran past Katherine as she stood from the bench she’d been positioned at and started running past the tall buildings herself. This was not an escape plan. If she ran, truly ran, she’d be exposed. No, this was so that it could look random, like she was just picked out of a crowd.

She felt herself being drawn into Compress’s marble, felt the marble being scooped up and held, jostled around. Katherine couldn’t do much about the strange feeling from inside the marble, but she’d be sure to be more passive aggressive than usual when she got back.

Without warning, she was brought from the marble to the street. She felt Dabi’s hand wrapping around her neck through the sweatshirt she’d been given to hide her scars. The unusual heat was a dead giveaway that it was the flame user. They had gone over this plan back at the base. She was to act scared for whatever hero was there, and it was not difficult.

She almost faltered when she saw Kai, fully outfitted in his Rapids hero costume, standing before her with two of his sidekicks. She was vaguely confused for a moment, but the confusion was overshadowed with relief. An asshole he might be at the agency, but he was still a hero out on the streets. He would rescue Katherine from this situation, like he’d rescued countless others.

“Well, hero? Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to make a choice?” Shigaraki called from behind her, and she felt Dabi’s hand heat even further. This had not been part of the plan, and her fear grew to the point that tears began trickling down her cheeks.

“Please, Kai! Help me!” Katherine screamed. This was also not part of the plan, but in that moment she forgot all about her secret. All she could think about was that they would kill her if Kai didn’t save her.

“Well, Kai,” Dabi spat, “what’s it gonna be? You, or her?” Katherine silently begged Kai to get her out. To take her back home, away from the villains that had started to sound a little too sane, where she could get back to her life.

“Keep her.” Katherine felt like her heart had turned to ice. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Those words were not supposed to leave the lips of people that called themselves heroes.

“Did you even bother to look at who you kidnapped?” Kai let out a barking laugh, wiping an imaginary tear. “She’s been useless ever since we were kids! She could copy what she heard, what kind of quirk is that? She couldn’t even make it into the c-list hero courses!

“She’s just a burden to society, chasing after a dream she knew couldn’t be achieved. She even encouraged Sunē to try and do the same, even though we all knew she was going to be a villain. It’s a good thing she realized it and offed herself before she ended up that way.”

Katherine just stared at Kai. He’d recognized her. Had he always known? Or had he figured it out when she called him by his name?

But then, why wasn’t he saving her? He was a hero, he was supposed to save people. But here he was, leaving her to be killed or worse by villains, but why? It took very little effort for her to remember those times on the playground, through middle school, when Kai had shamelessly let her and Sunē take a beating, then check on them later. He had always been too scared to actually get hurt.

And Sunē.

Those things he’d said about her. That had been his friend at one point, how could he believe she would be a villain? He knew her, almost as well as Katherine did! But that last comment, that praise of Sunē’s actions ten years ago…

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Katherine’s eyes, a moment ago so full of fear and confusion, hardened with nothing short of absolute hate. She began muttering, barely moving her lips as the sounds bounced off the buildings on the street around them. The voices sounded like a crowd of people, whispering. How useful ventriloquism was turning out to be.

“Did you hear what he just said?”

“He’s not going to save her?”

“Isn’t he supposed to be a hero?”

“Why aren’t the sidekicks doing anything about this?”

“Is he just going to let those villains go?”

Kai’s sidekicks began looking around, trying to find prying eyes that did not exist. All the civilians had long since evacuated. It meant they didn’t have to see what happened next.

With a flick of her wrist, Katherine sent a dagger to the sidekick on the left. It went straight through his eye and out the back of his head. He dropped, blood beginning to pool under his head as Kai and the other sidekick turned to his body.

The knife looped behind the two, stabbing the poor man in the throat. His death was slower. Katherine and the League watched without sympathy as he bled out as Kai watched in horror. Katherine wondered if he’d ever seen death before.

She held her hand up and the knife flew to it, stabbing in and being reabsorbed. It left a nasty cut, but she didn’t care. It got Kai’s attention, and that was what mattered. He turned to her with wide eyes and blood spattered on his mask from the sidekick that had been stabbed in the throat.

“You… no. No, your quirk is mimicry. You told me, you told everyone!” he shouted, as if it would save him. He stood, preparing a blast as Katherine unzipped the sweatshirt and slid it off, revealing her arms to the sun for the first time in years. The scars tracing up and down them caused Kai to falter.

“Yes, I did. And you called yourself a hero.” Katherine grew a katana from her arm, the same that she had made for Sunē with the snake slithering down its length. Dabi released her neck, and she heard his heavy boots take one step back. Kai, recognising the threat, shot a large burst of water at Katherine.

But she had trained with him for years. She knew his attacks could be split, watched Sunē do it with sturdy branches countless times in the park. So she held up the katana and let the water flow to either side of her as the League scattered behind her. Kai saw her still standing, anger on his face.

“I am a hero! I have the certification! I have an agency! You work there!” Katherine charged forward as he opened his mouth to continue yelling, stabbing her katana through his stomach to silence him.

It pierced all the way through his body, sticking a foot or two out of his back. Kai, caught off guard, looked down at the blade, buried to the hilt in his stomach, and fell to his knees.

“No. You weren’t a hero,” she said. With a small flourish, she removed the blade from her childhood friend’s stomach, savoring the small noise of pain he made at the movement, and his reflexive clutching at the wound.

“You were just a part of the problem.” With a vicious swing, Katherine took Kai’s head off. It thudded wetly on the pavement, his body following suit with an air of finality.

The street in front of Katherine was stained red, the blood of the three people before her mixing into one big puddle. The blood began to flow around her shoes, and she found herself numb to it as she stared at her handy work.

A warm hand rested on her left shoulder, and she turned her head to look Dabi in the eye. His smirk, while still sadistic, seemed less sharp than usual.

“Pretty good for someone who isn’t a villain,” he said. Katherine blinked, looking back to the katana in her hand. She began reabsorbing it, speaking as she did.

“I am a villain. I think I have been since I decided to hide my quirk to keep my family.” As the katana finished being absorbed, Toga tackled her in a hug from the right.

“That was so cool, Kat! Does that mean you’ll stay with us? We can be knife buddies! I promise not to cut you too much!” Toga pleaded, glancing up at Katherine’s steel gray eyes.

With a small smile, she placed a hand on Toga’s head, ruffling the younger girl’s hair. She couldn’t help but see a piece of Sunē in the girl’s unabashed excitement and bright yellow eyes. Katherine sighed, and when she inhaled again it felt like she was filling her lungs for the first time.

“I suppose it does,” she said.

#bnha #mha #oc #league of villains #lov #dabi #bnha dabi #mha dabi #cw: knives #cw: knife #cw: suicide praise #cw: death #cw: blood #cw: gore

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villain-sympathizer · 2 years ago

Note

Could you write a fic where ReDestro takes reader, who's a member of the League (kind of like League dad like how he's MLA dad) on a date, and when he gets there to pick them up, the whole League gives him a hard time protective sibling style? Is that too much? Sorry if it is.

you're darn tootin' i can write that!!

────── ･｡ﾟ: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

Re-Destro x GN!Reader; Takes place after MVA arc, but before the PLF vs. Heroes battle

[Contents: Platonically protective league; Mentions/threats of murder (thanks to Dabi and Tomu) but no actual violence; Season 5/MVA arc spoilers; Possible grammar issues lmao]

Word count: 806

[[Note: I write my x readers in third person and completely non-descript, so that others can insert either themselves or OCs if they want!]]

»»—— Impromptu Interrogation ——««

"Still can't believe it's you they're going out with," Jin comments while Rikiya smoothes out his tie in the floor-length mirror, before his other voice chimes in with: "Couldn't think of anyone better!"

Rikiya and the newly formed Paranormal Liberation Front, sans the original members of the Meta Liberation Army, were all gathered in one of the many living room spaces of his mansion, awaiting for one of their original members to arrive. Said member was one he planned on taking out on a date, and their team mates decided to interrogate him while he nervously fiddled with his suit and paced around the room.

"Better not be planning anything weird with them after dinner," Dabi pipes in from his spot on one of the couches, legs spread and arms draped over the back of the cushions. "Or we won't hesitate to finish you off, like Shigaraki was supposed to." He motions to their leader, who took residence on the comfy-looking recliner and almost seemed to be asleep, if it weren't for the middle finger he gave Dabi in response.

"Fuck off," Tomura's voice comes out gravely, with a slight croak to it. "But also, he's right. I'll decay the rest of you just like I did to your legs if you try anything on them."

Rikiya let out a shaky breath, turning away from the mirror to resume his anxious pacing. "I have no intentions with them after dinner, except to bring them back home. You have my word."

"That better be all, or I won't hesitate to cut you, baldy!" Toga shoots the commander a vicious grin from her spot on the floor, a pillow placed beneath her knees for comfort as she continues her board game with Jin at the coffee table. Spinner was also playing alongside them, but was either uninterested in the topic, or simply unwilling to join in on such a ridiculous argument.

Mr. Compress makes his way over to the ever-worrying CEO, deciding to show at least a smidge of kindness to him by helping to fix and smooth out the older mans suit. "My colleagues' threats are as empty as their skulls, my friend," he hums from beneath his mask, making sure Rikiya's tie was properly tightened. "Pay no mind to them. I'm sure thing's will go smoothly with [Name], you have nothing to fear."

Rikiya offers him a grateful smile, about to thank the masked man for his reassurance, until his tie was gripped and he was harshly yanked forward by the force of the others robotic arm.

"However," Compress begins, voice low so that only the two of them could hear. "Unlike theirs, my threats are nowhere near as empty. You best treat them with more respect than your ancestor you love so much, or so help me, I'll throw your compressed marble to the bottom of the ocean before I release you from it. Understand?"

When Compress got a nod from the other, he lets go with a cheerful 'Good!' just as the door to the living area opened, revealing the very topic of the groups conversation. They were dressed nicely, just formally enough for a light romantic dinner date - but Rikiya could have swore he were staring at a deity in that very moment.

Once the door closed, [Name] looked up and around the room, about to give a greeting to the group with a smile. However, they quickly noticed the tense atmosphere around a couple of the members, especially with the two men closest to them. "Oh, uh... I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

Rikiya's brought out of his short stupor when he hears their voice, straightening his back and putting on a charming grin. "No, not at all! I was just asking Mr. Compress here to make sure my tie was straight," he assured, making his way over to his partner and gently taking their hand, pressing a quick kiss to it. "Are we ready to depart, dear?"

His charisma was contagious, and [Name] couldn't help but give a bashful smile in return as they blushed. "Why yes, yes I am," they respond, before turning to address the rest of the group. "You lot better not have hassled him while I was getting ready, or I swear..." A chorus of 'Noooo...' is groaned amongst the lounging villains, and [Name] knew that was the best they'd get from their friends. "Well then, Riki, let's head out, shall we?"

"Yes, lets," Rikiya agrees with them, opening the door to let his partner leave first, then making his way through the doorway himself. Before the CEO closes the door, he catches a glimpse of the League all shooting various glares his way just before the door clicks into place.

Rikiya made sure the both of them were back by 10 pm on the dot.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #redestro x reader #rikiya yotsubashi x reader #rikiya yotsubashi #dame writes #redestro #re destro

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petrock42clone · 2 years ago

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Punch-Out!! Underground Circuit ranks (plus headcanons)

#4 Heike Kagero:

Heike is a Trans NB (They/Them) icon and anyone who objects can fight me (but not irl my mom would stop that from happening).

Rumor has it that they are related to Now Major League Champion Piston Hondo but both parties have denied this claim (still doesn't explain why the two share the same exact last name).

When joining the Underground Circuit, Heike brought in a couple cans of hairspray that they use both in and out of the ring. One would be used to harden their hair while the other would be used to temporarily stun an opponent.

Heike's main reason for joining the Underground Circuit was due to generalized transphobia among the higher ups at the WVBA.

Under the right amount of lighting, Heike's hair actually looks more violet than grey (this came from me being a bit color blind with shades of grey).

#3 Mad Clown:

He's been in the WVBA the longest out of any of the members of the Underground Circuit so he knows his fair share of ways to break the rules.

He's the only straight/cis member in the circuit but God help you if you tried to be homophobic/transphobic to any of his fellow boxers while he's in the room.

You remember that joke in part 2 of Bumbles Mcfumbles video "How many rules does each Punch-Out!! boxer break" about Mad Clown Filling his juggling balls with concrete? Although they aren't actually filled with concrete, they are filled with marbles that become tripping hazards when one of the juggling balls are broken.

Despite his grumpy attitude, it's more like him being a grumpy old grandpa, which just makes any conversations with him all the more funny. Especially when you learn that he filled in the roll of grandpa to Sparky when she first became a part of the now defunct Women's League.

He joined the Underground Circuit because he wouldn't have any other options for boxing (it totally was NOT because Sparky offered him a roll).

#2 Masked Muscle:

Was a part of the Wrestling division of the WVBA (WVWA: World Video Wrestling Association) but like the Women's League, it was shut down for mostly unknown reason (likely due to low ratings and an attempt to cut costs).

Doesn't actually use any labels for sexuality but we can say for certain he got with Don's now ex (Carmen) after Career Mode in Wii. And just like that, Masked Muscle accidentally became a part of my Mac was nearly jumped in the locker room when he returned to the WVBA.

No one has actually seen what he looks like without his mask. This has led to Aran making an on going joke that Masked Muscle was born with his mask welded to his face.

Along with using his spit, he just full on breaths poison and whatever is in an air freshener can to blind his opponents. This time he's not even subtle about it.

You cannot convince me that he would not slam his ring side chair at his opponent when they're down on the ground.

#1 Aran Ryan:

Suggested the idea of the Underground Circuit to Sparky one day, after finding her fighting some people in white and gold suits in an alleyway.

Used to be the leader of the Underground Circuit but lost a bet with Sparky and now he's at rank 1.

If you asked him if he was gay he would just reply with "hella" before stabbing you in the kidney (I hope you know someone willing to donate theirs to you).

When you first fight him he doesn't actually break any rules. But when you knock him to the ground for the first time and it wasn't an automatic KO, he returns to his old ways of cheating, adding a horseshoe to his boxing glove flail.

He takes on his old appearance from Career Mode but with the addition of fabric patches being sewn to both his boxing gloves and shorts (if you look close enough you can even find a few on his flail).

(Siren Sparky and Little Mac will get their own headcanons/tid bits (in Sparky's case) page soon since Sparky is an OC and Mac isn't actually in this Circuit)

#punch out #punch out!!#punch out au #aran ryan #masked muscle #heike kagero #mad clown #headcannons #PO!! Underground Circuit AU #part 2 soon!

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hiraethhh-h · 2 years ago

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main masterlist

welcome to my main masterlist, everything is sorted according to the fandom!

all individual fandom masterlists are tagged under bee's masterlists

League of Legends Masterlist (active)

Dead By Daylight Masterlist (inactive)

Slashers Masterlist (inactive)

Stranger Things (retired)

Genshin Impact Masterlist (retired)

Obey Me! Shall We Date? Masterlist (inactive)

Hades (inactive)

The Arcana (inactive)

Blooming Panic

nicknames xyx and quest would call you (HCs)

Marble Hornets

Headcanons: 1 | 2 |

Masky Helps his Overworked/Stressed Fem!S/O (Scenario)

HABIT, Evan, Tim, and Brian with an S/O Who Likes to Paint Their Nails (HCs)

MH Pick-Up Lines (Crack)

Hurt/Comfort with Tim, Masky, Hoodie, and Brian (Scenario)

Creepypasta

BEN Takes Care of his Sick S/O (Scenario)

EveryManHybrid

HABIT/Evan with an S/O Who’s Taller Than Them (HCs)

HABIT, Evan, Tim, and Brian with an S/O Who Likes to Paint Their Nails (HCs)

Being Jeff Koval’s S/O (HCs)

Ghost BC

Tease (Scenario)

snare’s ghuleh adventures (Chatper-fic w/my nameless ghoul oc)

soft dewdrop HCs

headpatting the ghouls & ghoulettes HCs

healing process (Scenario)

SCP

visitation (Scenario)

RE3 Remake

funny moments with jill v., carlos o., and nemesis (Scenario)

Percy Jackson & the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus

dog (Scenario/Prompt)

#✿ - navi

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borkthemork · 3 years ago

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Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended.

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #Finally it's its own standalone fic #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #I mainly just placed this stuff in the drabbles comp but I loved this one too much that I had to clean it up #I FORGOT TO PUT THE MARGINS

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despair-edits · 3 years ago

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Mod Nagito- entry!

Hello! Nice to meet you all!

I'm [REDIRECTED] and I'll be Mod Nagito on this amazing blog! I use many pronouns, but It/Its and He/Him are preferable. I'm an adult pagan witch that loves to get high and paint :DD

Do not refer to me as human, please. Instead of words like "person" or "human", use "creature", "being", "void", etc.

Blacklist: No themes in peculiar, but I will only do requests from my source list unless it's otherkin or factkin- I so requests for those as well.

Whitelist: weirdcore, glitchcore, wrathcore, traumacore, bastardcore/chaoscore, angelcore/demoncore, witchcore and dreamcore. Anything horror related and problematic!

Here's what I can do for you:

◇Icons

◇Reaction icons

◇Moodboards📼

◇Headers

◇Banners

◇User boxes

◇Wallpapers

◇Playlists×

◇Pronouns/Name help

◇PluralKit templates

◇Doodles/sketches📼

◇Tarot readings (1 card)📼

◇Pendulum readings📼

◇Short headcanons

◇Kin assigns📼

×- specify if spotify or tumblr post

Sources:

◇Adventure Time

◇Arcane📼

◇Attack on Titans📼

◇Atla/Atlok

◇BatIM

◇BNHA📼

◇Boyfriends (webcomic)

◇Boyfriend to death📼

◇Creepypasta📼

◇Danganronpa📼

◇Darling in the franxx

◇DC📼

◇DDLC

◇Death Parade

◇DeathSitter📼

◇Disney/Pixar/Dreamworks

◇DreamSMP📼

◇Eldarya

◇FNaF📼

◇Genshin Impact📼

◇Ghost Eyes📼

◇Hannibal📼

◇Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss📼

◇Helltaker

◇Hermitcraft

◇Homestuck

◇Honkai: Star Rail

◇IB, Mad Father, The Witches House, Pocket Mirror, Hello Charlotte, etc.

◇Jujutsu Kaisen📼

◇Kuroshitsuji

◇League of legends

◇Lego Ninjago

◇Marble Hornets📼

◇Marvel📼

◇Miraculous Ladybug

◇MLP

◇My Candy Love

◇Mythology (Greek & Nordic)📼

◇Naruto

◇Obey me!📼

◇OCs (provide an image or description)

◇Percy Jackson

◇Rick and Morty

◇Sally Face📼

◇SCP

◇She ra

◇Steven Universe

◇Stranger Things📼

◇The Arcana📼

◇The Dragon Prince

◇The Magnus Archive📼

◇The Witcher📼

◇Tower of Fantasy📼

◇Undertale

◇Welcome to Night Vile

◇YTTD📼

◇Vocaloid

◇Xiaolin Showdown📼

📼- things that I do faster

I hope you'll have a fantastic time here with us at despair-edits! :DD

📼Mod Nagito

#blog intro #mod intro #Mod Nagito

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atashii-loves-ya · 2 years ago

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Hey, y'all...Are Fancharacters allowed in the SuperMansion fandom? 👀

Recently I saw this promo images and that inspired me to recreate them with a group of Fancharacters which I was thinking of since a pair of months

I thought the story of 3 of my OCs from my original story called "Hopeless Light" in the universe of the series and how they would be related to the canon characters. I want to show them :D

1. The Heartdreamer (T-chan)

A 19 years old Japanese girl who has soul-healing and dreaming manipulation powers by her own. She has a secret identity called "T-chan" or "Tiichan", a famous and cheered streamer who talks about superheroes, likes to do internet trendings and watching animation series.

She would try to join to the League with the intention to help them after all the things that happened in season 3 (She would try to help Devizo too, but it would end very bad). I think that she would be constantly compared to Debbie cause her soul-healing powers, even though they are weaker and she sacrifices her own happiness everytime she uses them. That is why she would be always trying to improve her dream manipulation powers and her physical fight, which is very weak.

She has a handmade scepter, which doesn't work in the real life (Except for beating people with it :u), but it helps her to manipulate dreams. Also, when she is dreaming she can change her apparency and she can fly.

I think that she would be well related with the League (except for Rex, they would have more like a distrust relationship). I like to think that she also would be best related with Agony and Saturn.

She is inspired in my OC Tiaiko Innoni (https://www.deviantart.com/atashiichan/art/Drawtober-2-Tiaiko-Innoni-893681448 ) and the Homestuck God Tier "Sylph of Heart", which was her Tier when she was a Homestuck Fancharacter in the past.

2. Technancy

A 19 years old technopath, which means that she can control any technology (Which is near her and it's not extremely complex), with her mind. She also knows to fight physically and is very smart for making plans and strategies.

Despite her powers, she doesn't know how to make technological devices by herself, making her dependent on outsiders while learning, which makes her insecure and sees herself as a potential sidekick rather than a superhero.

She meets the League for the recommendation of T-chan and tries to be well related with everyone, despite she likes to control Robobot everytime she sees it. She also admires the intelligence of Devizo and Blue Menace suit (?)

She is inspired in my OC Nancy MacLeod (https://www.deviantart.com/atashiichan/art/Drawtober-27-Nancy-MacLeod-896201974), who is a girl who knows how to handle technology very well, that is why i thought that powers for her.

3. Abby of the Doom (Abby E.)

A 18 years old artist called Abby E. She normally has blue and purple marbled hair, and she looks like a very calm person, but when she has strong emotions or tries to defend herself, she transforms into "Abby of the Doom", an antihero who can destroy everything that she touches with her hands with smoke (She can fly too, just when she is transformed). When she is in that form, she has a very energetic, destructive and immature attitude, like a childish behavior.

She meets the league by a coincidence, but she starts to relate them more when she joins with Heartdreamer and Technancy. She would be well realted with the Titanium's, Ranger and Liplor. Also, I think that the Titanium's are constantly watching over her when she is transformed (?)

She is inspired in my OC Abby Ertena (Algedi) ( https://www.deviantart.com/atashiichan/art/Drawtober-3-Abby-Ertena-Algedi-893788090 ), the paintings "Deranged Lady Painting" (https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/ibgame/images/4/47/Deranged_lady_painting2.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/211?cb=20220521224909) and "Mary" ( https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/ibgame/images/e/ed/Mary_picture.png/revision/latest?cb=20220621191201 ) from the game Ib and the Homestuck God Tier "Witch of Doom", which was her Tier when she was a Homestuck Fancharacter in the past.

And that's all...I really liked how the drawings came out and that is why I'm showing them :D And if you also replicate this promos with your characters or redraw them, I would to see (?

I still have ideas of fanarts, I hope to draw and show them soon :D

ALSO, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, sorry if I make a grammar mistake :'D

Versión en español resumida en twitter: https://twitter.com/MagAtashiiHG/status/1556094245257170945?t=hlTn1D0lQcqPY2k7CdzjLQ&s=19

#supermansion #supermansion oc #fancharacter #oc #inspiration #traditionalart #sketch

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

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so maybe another devil in a new suit drabble 👉👈 maybe jk meeting oc parents or like more interactions w oc and jks parents/sister

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. pg-13. tags. mentions of coconut!kook dancing (and the whole reason i wrote this tbh), cute banter, idk. just a lotta fluff, a lil bit of grinding, y’know. wc. 2.7k. beta reader. none other than @hobi-gif. i love you always! author note. oh look... it’s me... posting something... after sixteen hundred years. womp womp. this truthfully didn’t go the way i planned it to but i hope you enjoy regardless!

It really shouldn’t surprise you. Frankly, it doesn’t.

But it is a little funny.

There are about six girls gathered in a gaggle around your boyfriend, all desperately vying for his attention as he presents a neatly gathered bouquet to his little sister. Jisoo’s all smiles, completely over the moon with pride and riding that high as she rightfully should. (She’d done incredibly well, closed out the showcase with a fluidity you could never even dream of.) She doesn’t even notice her friends staring at her brother with hearts in their eyes, each one red in the face and not from exertion.

(That, or she doesn’t care. Maybe she’s grown used to it - the whole having-a-heartthrob-for-a-brother thing.)

It’s actually quite cute, if only because you know Jungkook doesn’t have eyes for anyone but you. Can feel it in how he keeps bouncing his gaze back towards you, dimple winking from deep within his cheek each time your eyes meet. He’s like a child going back to his favourite toy, momentarily distracted by tittering laughter and his sister’s sunny smile but always coming back to you. The knowledge warms you from the inside out, drags a satisfied smile across your lips.

You wonder whether he notices the attention or if it’s just another part of his life. (You think he must know. These college students don’t really hide it well, too handsy for their own good, years of growing up in semi-close proximity instilling a certain confidence in their motions. That, and because Jungkook is quite possibly the least intimidating person you’ve ever met.)

“Thank you for coming!” It’s Jisoo, flushed and excitable, round eyes as bright as her brother’s as she crosses to you. This had been her moment - her time to shine - but you appreciate the effort she makes to include you, finding you within the crowd. “I was a little nervous but…” A shrug rolls her narrow shoulders, shakes her dark hair from its loose coil.

You’d seen her practice before this - watched the long videos she’d regularly send to Jungkook - but seeing her in real life motion was an entire league of its own. Dancing was her calling, every bit of her made for it. There was just something lyrical about the way she moved, how her hips rolled, limbs seemingly guided by the rhythm of the music. A grace you’ve never had, even on your best day.

“You shouldn’t have been.” You’re beaming right back at her, sisterly reassurance on your tongue. “You were amazing.”

Whether she believes you or not - you think she does by how her cheeks grow ten sizes and her eyes are all but swallowed whole by the expression - she’s gracious, accepting the compliment with her blinding smile. (She really was like Jungkook like that.)

“You guys should come to a class one day.” By that, she means a class she helps teach every once in a while. You’ve heard about it on more than one occasion, seen the choreography posted on Instagram and YouTube.

Still, you don’t expect that, brows shooting high. Laughter filters past your teeth, springing off your tongue. “I am not a dancer and I doubt your brother—”

Now it’s Jisoo’s turn to wear surprise like a neon sign, expression splitting with giggles of her own. “Wait— have you not seen Kook dance?” The way she says it is incredulous, Bambi eyes sparkling with what looks like mischief.

“No?”

“Your sister told me something.”

You’ve never seen this particular brand of worry on his face, eyes even more comically wide than usual, whatever words he’d originally meant to speak dying on his tongue. He looks like a literal deer caught in the headlights, one of his nicknames suddenly very apt.

“What did she say? She likes to embarrass me.” True. Jisoo and Jungkook had a textbook sibling relationship, full of teasing and mockery and copious amounts of love. “Whatever she said, don’t believe—”

“She said you used to dance.”

“Oh.” Oh? You hadn’t expected Jungkook to deflate so easily, relief flooding his features. “Yeah, I did. In university.” He’s utterly unbothered by this knowledge, attention back on the soondubu jjigae he’d been shovelling into his mouth. “I had some friends who were dancers, so it was good exercise.”

“I want to see.”

His answer is immediate, despite the heaping bite of rice and stew in his mouth. “No.”

You whack him across the shoulder, startling him into clattering his spoon on the countertop. It leaves a messy red streak across marble but you’re dragging his attention back to you with a firm glare, fingers cradled under his jaw. “I want to see.”

Talent apparently runs in the family, you realise halfway through the third video. Jungkook moves with the same assured movements his sister does, with power and grace and a confidence that frankly baffles you. He treats the practice room like a stage, running through the motions so fluidly you almost have trouble believing it’s your man on the screen. (Not that he’s particularly ungraceful. It’s just surprising, like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.)

“So, what happened?” You say it so conversationally, innocently, with eyes that mimic his own. From the corner of your periphery, your boyfriend shifts, hand flexing over your knee. There’s the furrow between his brows, the subtle tension in his jaw. Worry.

“What do you mean?”

Your own hand waves toward the screen, where the image of Jungkook from over half a decade ago sits paused. “You were so…” You’re not sure what you mean. There are just so many options to describe the literal baby boy on the television. Young? Confident? Round? (You can’t get over his haircut, though you suppose you can’t hold it against him.)

Jungkook simply stares at you, waiting for you to find whatever words you want to use. Despite the uncertainty that swims somewhere in the depths of his eyes, he’s endlessly patient. Always so soft when it comes to you.

“You had a coconut head.”

Laughter explodes off his tongue, entire face screwing up with amusement. “Are you serious?”

“You did!” Admittedly, the cut had somehow worked on him but it’s so reminiscent of grade school haircuts you can’t help but focus on it, too distracted by the glossy sheen to offer much else. “I guess I get it, though.”

“What do you mean? Everyone had that haircut—”

“In first grade, maybe.” He sticks his tongue out at you then; you scowl in response.

“What do you get?” As always, he’s perceptive, immediately aware of your carefully knit brow, the thoughtfulness that fits itself around your teeth like gleaming white veneers and holds his attention hostage. He’s grown used to it over the months you’ve been together - knows you cling tight to things with an iron grip, turn them over and over until you’ve made sense of it in that brain of yours.

“The crushes.” You look affronted, almost appalled at the realisation. He bursts out laughing, broad palm coming down upon your bare leg in a smack. (He apologises profusely when you complain.)

“What’re you talking about?”

Your nose is wrinkled, velvet strands dislodged by the shake of your head. “All your sister’s friends. They’re in love with you.” Jisoo had even agreed, laughed about it when you’d commented on it at the recital. Something about them having grown up with Jungkook, obsessed with the image they’d retained of him since university. “But you were a coconut. You wore Timberlands and drop-crotch pants. You weren’t even that cute.” An exaggerated shudder slips over your shoulders.

“I was nineteen.” As if that makes it better. Your judgment doesn’t lessen, the lines running the bridge of your nose only deepening.

“Still. Embarrassing.”

Your boyfriend truly is the best sport, rolling his eyes at you in the same instance he reaches for you, tugs you closer with broad palms, affection searing into your skin. “Well, luckily, no more Timbs. No more bowl cut.” He nuzzles into the warmth of your neck, spreads your knees wide over his hips. The sound of his laughter melts into your throat, dresses it in heat deposited by your breath. “Are you jealous again?”

He doesn’t even get a verbal response to that. Just a heavy glare and two hands squishing his cheeks. “Absolutely not.”

It comes up again in bed, your head on his chest, his hands on your hips. He asks it quietly, conversationally, with a twinkle in his eye that makes you want to smother him with one of his many pillows.

“You’re sure you’re not jealous?”

“I’m not,” you grit, paired with a roll of your eyes and a little snort from your nose. You really aren’t. Those girls are inconsequential, irrelevant. They’ll never amount to what you are to him and that’s just a simple fact. He’s yours - something he reminds you of day in and day out, both verbally and in action.

(You love him for it, appreciate it more than you can possibly begin to explain. There’s a certain bliss to be found in the knowledge that you’re loved. A warmth that rivals even that of the sun on the summer’s hottest day.)

“Then why’re you pouting?” What he really means is why aren’t you smiling. You don’t pout often - at least not in the same ways he does.

“I’m not,” you repeat for what feels like the sixth time.

“Smile for me.”

You do the opposite - throwing your eyes in an exaggerated circle. It earns you a pinch to the side, a tender sting blooming beneath ink-strewn fingers.

“Really—“ When he looks this earnest, it’s hard to deny him, “you’re sure everything’s okay?”

At most, you can sigh perhaps overdramatically. Fold your awkward limbs upon his and bury your face into the crook of his neck. You’re not jealous of those girls, no.

You’re envious of his talent - the simple fact that Jeon Jungkook is, by all definitions, a golden boy. God’s favourite, with his heart wrenching smile and easygoing charm and grace that seems almost surreal. There’s not a single thing wrong with him - okay, except for his bad habit of never answering his phone and always messing up the top sheet and the fact that he absolutely never ever puts the cap back on the toothpaste tube - and it’s absurd. Utterly, absolutely unfair.

But you can’t say that.

“Baby,” he hums, threading the sound of his voice among your hair, tucking the soft syllables behind your ears. “Talk to me.”

You relent - a little. “You’re too good.”

“Too good?” The depth of his laughter rumbles your bones, tickling your insides when it vibrates out of his chest. “At what?”

A hand gesticulates wildly. You’re not sure what it looks like, how close it is to hitting Jungkook in the face. You’ve still got your face pressed to the warmth of his skin, greedily siphoning his sunny radiance with your cheek. “Everything.”

Despite how he laughs - cackles, really, so adorable and high pitched it’s breathy - you know he knows what you’re talking about. You’ve given him a hard time about it before.

“I’m not good at everything, ____.”

He’s somehow even good at making you believe you’re wrong. That’s a feat in and of itself.

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Whatever!” Whether he acknowledges it or not, he’s stupidly gifted. Everyone and their - even his - mom knows it. “Don’t believe me then. I don’t care.”

“Then why’re you making that face?” It’s almost comical that he’s calling you out for your expressions when he’s the king of funny faces, throwing his features into exaggerated (and adorable) masks. (Maybe he’d just rubbed off on you?)

“I’m not,” you huff, exasperated but not quite. Still soft over his skin, velvet on silk.

“You’re so cute.” Sometimes, you think he really is just a child - too happy with putting you on a pedestal and praying at your altar. Devoting himself to you when you’re nothing but a bag of flesh and bone, dressed in designer fashion and wrapped up with a satin ribbon made from sarcasm and candor. (Not that you mind. Who would argue if they were offered such love?) “I still think something’s wrong but…”

It’s a smart tactic. He doesn’t press you for an answer, opting to let it linger between you. Settle like bothersome lint until you offer it yourself.

When you relent - because you always do, unable to shut out the sunshine that practically pours out of him - you’re quieter. Not shy, but bashful. Uncertain in a way you very rarely are. “I’ve always wanted to dance.” So much so, you’d begged your parents to enroll you when you were younger. Demanded lessons upon lessons - only to fail at all of them. Rhythm simply didn’t exist anywhere in your body.

“Really?”

You’re pulled from your safe haven, shifted until your entire point of view is filled with Jungkook, his starry eyes and his fluffy fluffy hair. There’s that look he sometimes gets - full of wonder and adoration - when he learns something new about you. As if just the smallest tidbit of knowledge opens up a whole new world.

“Yes?” You’re half regretting the admission. He looks like he’s up to something, all the cogs in his head turning in perfect tandem.

“I’ll teach you.”

“Hard pass.”

Like a hot air balloon, he deflates, mouth rounding sweetly. (If you didn’t know better, you’d assume the man was made of cotton candy, semi-sweet chocolate heart where the real organ should be.) “Why not?”

“I do not dance.” It’s nothing but a statement of fact, firm and unyielding.

The pout evolves, swings down into a frown that drags his eyebrows with it. “You could dance.”

“No, baby—“ So you’re a little frustrated, all your childhood memories pricking beneath your skin. “I do not dance.”

“Why?” He’s upright now, tugging you with him as if you weigh nothing. His way of turning the conversation serious, pulling you from the warmth and comfort of the bedsheets to this. (He’s still holding you, hooking his big broad hands over your hips, so you don’t mind.)

“No rhythm.” Unable to keep a beat. Two left feet. The list could go on and on, according to your ballet instructor.

“Not true.”

Your brow quirks, mirrored by his as if in challenge. You almost swat at him - so close your hand twitches on his shoulder. “Very true.”

(Why does this conversation feel so familiar? It’s déjà vu.)

“Is not.” Your boyfriend seems insistent, as if he knows better than you. (He doesn’t.) Stares up at you with those pretty eyes and has the audacity to grin when you roll your own, ready to rebuff him.

Because you’re in bed, the one place where you defer to him whether you like it or not.

(You do like it, though. Love it, in fact. Just like you love him.)

“You’re graceful,” he hums, bridging the gap between you with a forward roll of his shoulders. “You’ve got rhythm.” The hand on your hip grows firm, guides your knees to spread wide on either side of him. With each brush of his lips - tender little brushes, endlessly sweet and reassuring - he pushes and pulls, dragging you across his lap. “You can do anything you want.”

You’ve almost forgotten the topic of conversation, preoccupied by how he guides you in languid circles. How the cotton of his boxer briefs feels against the sensitive inside of your thighs. The weight that grows between your legs and nudges indelicately against the soft fabric of your thong.

All part of his plan, of course.

“Your body’s the most beautiful thing in the world, ____.”

When he looks at you like this, you think he might be right. You’d believe it if he kept saying it, sparking desire through your limbs until they’re jellied and loose.

(How he sees right through you - cuts straight to the core of your insecurity - you’re not sure. It feels almost like a superpower, something unquantifiable, unbelievable. He’s too good for you, always. So kind and loving, pressing his belief in the form of his mouth, the tender edge of his teeth when he kisses you slow slow slow.)

“You’re perfect just the way you are.”

#anon.eml #incoming.eml #jungkook.doc #work.zip #drabble.zip #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #devil.doc

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