#nanatsu no taizine

[nerroart]

Preview of my piece for @nntzine

The shop is opened, so you can get yours here !!! 💙

[jssannart]

I was too happy to do springtime for the Nanatsu no Taizine!! Here is a sneak peek of my piece, I hope everyone can check it out over at @nntzine and store :-) 

[baconwaffle2016]

Summary: Ever since she came back from the dead, Elaine has been having all kinds of difficulties. The biggest one so far is staying alive for as long as she can, without giving into the voice inside her mind, trying to turn her back into a slave for the Undead.

In the aftermath of Liones being taken back from the Commandments, Elaine is off to meet Ban for their first dinner alone since she returned. As she travels, she is once again hit with all her doubts and fears for the future, as well as her struggle to maintain agency over her body and mind. It is here that Elaine makes a choice that will either make or break her.

[My submission for the Nanatsu no Taizine, a fan zine in which many artists and fic writers in the NNT fandom gathered together to contribute their works to celebrate this insane anime/manga that we all manage to enjoy.]

[kuronekotchiiiiouu]

JUST GOT MY NANATSU NO TAIZINE

And I'm saying THANK YOU to every person who made it really!!!!!!

[nerroart]

Thank youuuu ❤️

Check the Zine blog and all the amazing people working on this project ❤️

📚 and ❤️? :3

📚 Is this your first zine? What made you join?

Yes it is! I decided to join @nntzine because it seemed likely that it would be a really fun, high-quality project to be a part of. NNT is a small fandom but is really blessed with great artists and authors and I figured that would mean an amazing product (and it is!). I was surprised and delighted to get the email with the commission.

❤️ Which piece (other than your own) are you most excited for?

Oh there are SO MANY. This is an incomplete list.

@okamideimos’s art is amazing and the piece he has created for the Zine is properly stunning, just beautiful. The colours and the expressions of the characters he’s drawn are wonderful.

Melizabeth is one of my favourite ships and @thegoddesselizabeth depicts them so well. The piece she has created just blows me away still when I look at it.

@jbpendragon has created a couple of pieces for the Zine. Both are amazing. I think my favourite is Derieri; it has so much feeling.

@nerroart has drawn a couple of pieces too. Everything she does is just so spectacular and both of her Zine pieces are no exception. Her art looks so real to me.

@icibue has drawn Jericho and the background and the expression on her face are just perfect. You really have to see it!

@smolmeliroll drew Zeldris, brilliantly, as always. It’s definitely one of my favourite pieces of hers of all time, and I’m a big fan.

Sorry everyone I didn’t list here - for me, all the contributors did an amazing job.

[solynaceawrites]

End of Sanctuary

Fandom: Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins           Characters: Mael, Meliodas Tags: Post-Canon, Character Study, Canon Character Death, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort written for @nntzine​​ Summary: After the defeat of the Demon King, Mael returns to the only home he knows and engages in a festival to honor the ones who were lost.Originally written for Nanatsu no Taizine: Volume II and published in celebration of autumn.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The sun is low in the sky when he reaches his home. Former home, he supposes, landing lightly in what was once the grand courtyard: the immaculate marble has cracked and fallen, the flowers overgrown by thistles and weeds. Mael tilts his head back, taking in the ruins of the spires of the Supreme Deity’s palace, listening to the wind whistle forlornly through the shattered windows and holes in the walls, and wonders if this is their punishment for their hubris. Dead leaves whisper through the grass, like the voices of so many ghosts; with a sigh, he kneels, sweeping dirt away from the walk. This is the place of his birth, and he remembers with a fond sort of ache the feasts and festivals that were held here, one in particular which was always dear to him.

The Feast of All Souls began as a prayer. To remember those who’d come before, goddesses lit candles within their homes and laid offerings of food and wine on their doorsteps. Eventually, with the war looming over their clan, the Supreme Deity had made it a public event, one which all were encouraged to attend. Private offerings were still left, yet the majority of the evening was spent in the city streets, buying masks and scraps of finest parchment upon which to write hopes, dreams, or words of remembrance. And, once the sun had set and the world was cool and quiet, in the grand courtyard a chosen member of their race would light the torches and dance, and those little bits of people’s lives would be fed to the bonfire, to reach the next life. Mael rubs a dandelion between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. There is no one here, and yet . . .

He has no place in Britannia, nor a reason to return there. Too much suffering is on his shoulders, too much grief for him to express his own. And with the role he played in Escanor’s passing — how foolish he had been to believe that Elizabeth could heal the damage inflicted by Sunshine, how naive to trust in Escanor’s words over his own understanding of the man’s life — he would no doubt face scathing ire from the Sins, who loved Escanor as a comrade and a friend. And the Celestial Realm is in ruins, hardly fit to live in. Mael is well and truly alone in this world, and he presses himself to his feet and lifts his gaze to study the first blooming stars. He does not know where he will go from here, but he decides that, before he meets whatever fate is in store for him, he will honor those who lost their lives in this senseless war. 

He will reignite the flames of the Feast.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Mael stands in the center of the courtyard, watching as the sun begins its slow trek below the horizon. It is cold now, the seasons caught between autumn and winter, and the ivy that climbs the stone pillars is a vibrant, otherworldly green against the tawny hues of the rest of the world, and his breath condenses on the inside of the mask he wears. Only the Grace that had returned to him keeps him from truly feeling the chill; he is shirtless, his feet bare, and without Sunshine he would be trembling. Surrounding him are torches, burning brightly against the oncoming gloom, plates of food and wine at their bases, and a pile of dead branches waits for him to set it alight. His mind is as clear as it can be, his limbs tense for the dance he will perform. When the sun kisses the edge of the sky, he leans over and presses one of his own torches to the kindling, and the bonfire, soaked in oil, roars to life.

Then Mael begins to dance.

It is Ludoshel he thinks of first, the brother he had all but worshipped in his youth. He remembers his first flight—more of a glide, really, his wings too small and his feathers too new to hold him aloft for more than a few moments—how Ludoshel beamed with pride as he landed awkwardly on his feet and ruffled the hair that never laid as prettily as his own. Nights passed with stories, his brother tracing the constellations in the sky and telling them how they came to be: the Warrior, forever chasing the Queen he loved; the clever Fox that marked the beginning of autumn, the Saint and the King and the Dove, until Mael’s head was full of starlight and dreams. Ludoshel’s comfort when he was injured, his hands calloused yet soothing as he bandaged scrapes. Ludoshel, his voice hoarse with held-back tears as he clapped Mael on the shoulder and congratulated him on becoming an Archangel. His brother, and confidante, who had his flaws yet was always good to him. 

Mael flicks out an arm, the torch in that hand dangling by his fingertips. To my brother, without whom I would not be. I thank you.

Escanor comes next. Though they had barely known each other at all, the man had been full of kindness and love, the type of person Mael wished he had been three thousand years ago. Their meeting had been violent, to be sure, but even then, even as Estarossa, he had felt a genuine respect for the one who stood against his decree, and knows now that Sunshine did not aid him in that feat. Escanor had not been capable of hatred; his heart was too pure, his capacity for understanding too great. Even in his grief, he had not been cruel, each action meant to end Mael’s life as quickly and cleanly as possible. Well, perhaps that is too generous, but whether or not Escanor knew that Cruel Sun would cause a slow death, Mael does not know. They had been bound by Sunshine and Mael had found him, and Escanor had pleaded with him, not once but twice, refusing to accept the self-loathing brewing within Mael’s chest. 

He crouches, twisting the torches over his head in a shower of sparks. To Escanor, who was all that I hoped to be and more. I thank you. 

Sariel, who taught him to read the affection that lurked beneath abrasive words, and Tarmiel, the one who had never given up his hope that Mael was good, both dead by his hands. Sariel’s tongue had always been like sandpaper, yet he had been the one to teach him how to be agile, how to stay moving in the air so no one enemy could get close enough to do him harm. Tarmiel, gentle and sweet, had encouraged him, shown him the proper way to grip a sword and how he could use his size to make his opponents think he was slower than he was to keep the upper hand. Monspeet, an unwilling victim of the illness that had festered within Mael as the decree at away at his sanity; Derieri, who sacrificed herself in an attempt to save him; Oslo, who was Rou, a loyal companion that devoured Mael’s magic so that the Fairy King could live. 

Without that, without them, he would not have survived, and he lets the fire lick his shoulders as he draws the torches along his chest. To those who gave themselves so that I would be free. I thank you.

In one fluid movement, he lunges forward and places the torches atop the fire, his magic working to heal his hands even as they burn. Then he steps back, removing the mask he had carved from silver aspen and the ceremonial trousers woven from red-dyed wool before placing them within the pile as well, the flames devouring the hopes and prayers held within the objects, turning them into smoke that will hopefully reach the souls they are meant for. The sun is long gone now, the moon at the apex of its journey, and the sweat that had formed as he danced grows cold along his legs and back. Mael picks up the flask of wine he’d brought for himself and opens it to drink, uncaring of his nudity. He must watch until the fire dies, and then he can rest until dawn. Checking the offerings will come in the morning; so he sits and drinks and fasts till only embers remain, smoldering against the shattered stone.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The next morning, he exits his makeshift home, exhausted and more than a little hungover. A quick Invigorate cures him of the latter, but his bones ache as he treks by to the courtyard to clean up the remnants from the Feast. It is an unusually bright day, the sky clear and free of clouds, and the sun warms his back as he kneels down to inspect the first of the offerings, finding it nearly gone. With a faint smile, he moves to the next, and the next, and the last, and each of them has been disturbed more than the birds are capable of, the gifts picked thoroughly and more than half-missing. The sign of a good Feast and answered prayers lifts a weight Mael hadn’t realized he was carrying from his shoulders. He knows that he is by no means forgiven for the atrocities he committed, yet the sight of empty baskets puts him at ease; perhaps now those left behind can begin their healing. He pauses next to the remains of the bonfire to tilt his head back, studying the clear blue stretching endlessly above his head. 

“Autumn,” Ludoshel says, placing a hand on his shoulder with a smile, “is a time of rest so that we can be reborn anew, like all that the Supreme Deity’s light touches.”

“I miss you,” Mael replies.

His voice echoes flatly in the air, and he closes his eyes against the grief that swells within him. Rest to be reborn anew. 

Footsteps crunch over the dirt, drawing Mael’s attention to the ruined stairs. To his surprise, Meliodas is standing there, his hands in his pockets as he surveys their surroundings, his brows furrowed with what can only be contemplation. Then his green eyes cut across the theater to Mael, and his usual grin slides into place. “I thought I’d find you here,” he says cheerfully, crossing to him. “Or hoped, actually, but Elizabeth said this is where you were most likely to go.”

Mael can only stare at him while his mind tries to comprehend Meliodas being in the Celestial Realm. “Why?” he asks.

He supposes it could have meant why are you looking for me, or why did Elizabeth send you, and Meliodas chooses to answer the former. “I have a proposition for you.” He scratches the back of his head. “Well, the Sins do. With Escanor gone, we’re short one, and all of us are used to fighting with Sunshine around. So we want you to join us. There probably won’t be much fighting,” Meliodas adds when Mael stiffens, “since the war is over, which means you’ll mostly be helping run the Boar’s Hat and keeping the peace when we have to.”

He isn’t sure what to make of the offer. “I’m not sure I’m suited to becoming his legacy.”

Meliodas waves his hand dismissively. “No one’s asking for that, or for you to become the Sin of Pride. We’re offering a home, and a chance to do something other than stay here, alone.” His gaze is calculating now as he looks at Mael, almost as though he is daring him to refuse, and he nearly smiles as the old, Estarossa-like desire to meet the challenge swells within him.

“Alright,” Mael agrees. “I’ll go with you. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Buy me a drink.”

Meliodas grins, holding out a hand that Mael clasps warmly within his own, and there’s a rush of fear, longing and hope that makes him tremble. Be reborn, he thinks. I’ll try my best, brother.

[prolestariwrites]

Here is a recap of what I published on AO3 this year! I have a lot that was left in the drive that will hopefully come out next year, but I’m really surprised how much I still managed to get done with this year being such a roller coaster! This doesn’t include the fics I wrote for the Nanatsu no Taizine, Boundless zine, the Witcher Zine, or the Greek Myths Zine either. Even when I feel like I’m slowing down it’s amazing to see these numbers.

Thank you to all of you who have stuck around!! I love my readers so much and seeing your likes pop up makes my day :) I’ll be doing more DMC coming up, as well as jumping head first back into NnT and BNHA after a long hiatus. I have a few fics in the works now that will start publishing this January, so please hang around! Happy new year to everyone!

[moonsofmars-writes]

One Thousands Summers

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 七つの大罪 - 鈴木央 | Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins - Suzuki Nakaba (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Diane & Fairy King Harlequin, Diane/Fairy King Harlequin (pre-relationship) Characters: Fairy King Harlequin, Diane (Nanatsu no Taizai), Other(s)

Summary: After being condemned for his sin, King is serving his sentence in prison. Time passes slowly and the only thing he can do as he waits to be free is losing himself in his memories. When summer comes to visit him once again, all he can remember is Diane.

Notes: Finally posting my piece for Nanatsu no Taizine: Vol II @nntzine! I’m glad I could take part in it! I hope you enjoy my piece.

Days are all the same in his cell. The light that enters from the tiny window, nothing more than a crevice just under the ceiling, is enough to let him know when the sun is up and when the darkness falls, yet it’s easy to lose count, to sleep through the days and the weeks hoping that this will make them pass faster. But even so, Harlequin always knows when summer comes.

It’s the perfume, rich and inebriating, that first infiltrates through the cracks and the bars, filling the room and waking him up from his drowsiness. The scent embraces him like a warm grip and tells him of the blossoming rhododendrons and the delicate lilacs and the too many wildflowers blooming in the fields around the prison. Then it comes the heat and the moisture, the intense sunlight almost hurting his eyes. The sounds of summer are different too, from the calls of the migrating birds to the steps and voices of the peasants getting ready for the harvesting of the fields. Only then, when his every sense is enveloped in the feeling of summer, Harlequin allows himself to acknowledge that another year of his sentence has passed. He lost count of the days long ago, but he can’t stop counting the summers. One, two, ten, and then twenty and fifty and soon they’ll be one hundred - and the day he will be free comes closer, slowly but steadily.

Read on AO3

It’s also a sign that spring has passed, and there is always something relieving about it. He loves spring, he always did, since the time he could spend it surrounded by the trees and blossoming flowers of his native land. Yet, this season is hard for him, even harder than the windy autumn or the cold, lonely winter. Spring is the Fairy King's Forest, the Fairies flying between the vines and laughing and asking him to join them, for once. Spring is Elaine and her honey eyes - they looked so hurt and shone with tears when she begged him not to leave her, and yet he did. Spring is Helbram and his carefree laugh - and his desperate cry as tears ran down his cheeks until blood suffocated his voice. Their ghosts hunt him with the smell of bluebells and primroses, insinuating in his thoughts and dreams, a constant reminder of how he failed them, of how he is still failing them, even though he is doing everything he can to atone for his sins.

Summer is different. Summer is the light entering their cave and waking them up in the morning, is the glimmer of the stream they went to get water. It’s the bright days spent in the meadows, flying in the clear air as she ran after him, laughing and trying to catch him. It’s the shimmer in her eyes and her beaming smile. Summer is her. Diane. Harlequin still can’t understand why this is the season that reminds him of her the most, as they spent together entire centuries, but there is no doubt that when summer comes, it’s easier to lose himself in the memories of her, to forget, if only for just some time, about the people who are hopelessly waiting for him. Strangely enough, thinking about Diane doesn't quite hurt. He broke the promise he made her and he lost her and he knows he could never see her again, and yet his heart aches just a bit with bitterness and longing. He still misses her like air, but that’s alright because he knows that it was the only way. She is okay without him, she has to be. Without her memories of him, she has nothing that could burden her young shoulders, nothing she will want to wait for, maybe in vain.

Harlequin remembers, though. And when summer comes again to visit him, he can take a sigh of relief and close his eyes and dream.

He dreams about the days they used to spend just laying near the riverside, enjoying the warm sun of the afternoon and the softness of the green grass, the singing of the birds and the gurgling of the water. Sometimes, they both fell asleep and woke up only when the dark started to fall upon them like a cool blanket. Sometimes, though, she was the one who woke him up, with a question to ask or something to show him.

"Harlequin! Look what I found!" His eyes snap open at the sound of Diane's excited voice, his mind still a bit addled and lost in a confused dream. He sits up and blinks as he looks up at her and at the green bush she holds in her hands, and it takes him a moment to notice the little red berries between the leaves. "What are they, Harlequin? Can we eat them?"

“Raspberries,” he declares after taking flight to get a better look, “and they are ripe enough to eat them! They are good!” She beams at him and nods, but when she tries to take the berries between her thumb and index, the tiny fruits explode, leaving a red stain on her fingers and a frown on her face. “Let me,” Harlequin says, furrowing his brows as he uses his magic to pick all the fruits he finds.

One by one, they float towards Diane’s open palm and here they set down, forming a little pile. She watches them amazed as they move in the air, then, hesitantly, she brings her hand to her mouth. “Oh,” she says, after tasting some of them, eyes widening, “they are sweet!”

Then she finishes the ones on her hand and smiles at him, and her lips and teeth are red as her palm. The utter and simple happiness in her eyes makes him giggle and feel pleasingly warm as he puts a raspberry in his mouth. It's sweet, just a bit sour and it's perfect as her joyful smile and amused laugh when the juice stains his hands and lips as well.

Then a door slams and when Harlequin opens his eyes, there is no sun and there is no river and there is no Diane. Only the stone of his cell's walls and a bowl of dry bread and rotting vegetables in front of the wooden door that wasn't there before. That's all the food he will get for the day and as usual, he forces himself to eat it - yet, if he doesn't look at it he can still feel the full taste of the raspberries on his tongue.

It was summer, Harlequin remembers as he sits again against the wall, that one time they found a fawn stuck in a ravine. Diane lifted it in her hand to take it out as he held and calmed it, and her eyes shined with joy when he told her how grateful it was. It was still summer when in their wandering they discovered a small lake not far from the river, the water deep enough just to get to Diane’s calves, and her laugh seems to echo in the cell as it did in that clearing, centuries ago.

And it was summer the night of the falling stars. His stifling cell is nothing like the vast fields surrounding their cave and the stone floor can’t be compared to the softness of the grass, but Harlequin lies down anyway and when he closes his eyes, he can see the infinity of the starry sky above him and smell the earth and the flowers in bloom. That night they lingered outside longer than usual, and Diane was lying next to him, excitedly pointing out the constellations she identified.

He blinks, and suddenly there is a flash in the sky, slicing the cloak of darkness like a blade. “Look over there!” Diane exclaims and raises her arm, “a falling star! Oh - look!” There is another, Harlequin notices, and he holds his breath as follows its path in the air. More stars follow and they watch in awe as the sky seems to fall apart. When he glances at her, maybe after a few minutes, her mouth is open and her eyes wide, so close that he can see the lights shine on her irises. “Why do they fall?” She suddenly asks, her voice filled with wonder.

Harlequin knows she probably doesn’t expect him to know the answer, yet he takes some moments to think about it before shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he whispers back, “maybe it just happens, like when ripe fruits fall from a tree.”

Diane hums, her gaze still on the sky. “Do you think,” she murmurs, and this time her voice is so low that he can barely hear her, “they feel lonely?”

“Why should they?”

She bites her lip, taking her time before answering, “They are falling away from the sky and the other stars and leaving everything behind. It seems lonely.”

Harlequin knows she is not just talking about the stars. She told him about the day she left home and how she spent years living alone before meeting him. The thought fills his chest with anguish and bitterness but he casts them away as he rises, flying closer to her. “Maybe they are falling alone,” he says, “and leaving everything they know, but wherever they are going, look at how many stars are in the sky!” He gestures at it but doesn’t look away from her, meeting her curious gaze when she glances at him. “Wherever they are going, they will not be alone. They will find a new place and new stars and a new home, just like - like me. When you found me, I had nothing and was nothing, but you saved me. You gave me a place I can call home. I still don’t know what happened to me, but falling led me to you and I - I am grateful it did.”

Harlequin breathes in, warmth creeping over his cheeks, and only then it hits him, how true his words are. How the fear and anguish of not having a past has slowly lessened as the days went and his affection for the young Giant girl has grown instead, like mulberry trees. It’s only when Diane turns her head to look at him that he notices a glimmer of tears in her eyes, and his stomach clenches as he prepares to apologize - he would have never wanted her to cry. But she smiles a wide, joyful smile. “Thank you,” she whispers, “thank you for staying with me. You are my home too, Harlequin.”

He feels like a lump in his throat that doesn’t let any other word out, so he simply nods and smiles back even though he is the one who should thank her, for saving his life and healing his wounds and giving him a place to stay. For her kindness and selflessness, and for the joy and innocence that pervade everything she does. For making him know love, because he loves her and it’s love that makes him feel warm and fills his chest with joy every moment they spend together. It’s not like he didn’t know before, yet it’s only now, as he thinks about how he could tell her, that he fully realises the enormity of his feelings. And suddenly, when she smiles and reaches for him with her finger and he holds its tip, he realizes that his love will not fade nor wither. He loves her now, and he will until he dies. He would want to tell her, but the silence around them is too peaceful and emotional to break it, and so no word leaves his mouth. They stay like this for hours, her finger in his hands, as they watch more stars falling.

When Harlequin opens his eyes he is in his cell again and tears shine on his lashes. He lied to her, that night, and that’s what hurts the most. He loved her and still loves her with all his soul, and yet he lied and deceived her. It’s in moments like this that he is almost happy she can’t remember about him. Yet, he thinks, eyes half open and fixed on the stone ceiling, yet he knows that as soon as he’ll have the chance, he will look for her. Before he has to serve his sentence, and return to the Fairy King’s Forest, to Elaine, and apologize with her for making her wait. But then, when he’ll be sure that everything is alright, he will fly towards the Giants’ lands and he will find her. Diane will not remember him, but he can take it as long as she is happy. As long as he can see her smile again, at least one more time, and, if she’ll let him, keep his promise.

One day, he thinks as his mind slips again into memories that now are only his. One day, when these one thousand lonely summers will be over, he will see her again.

[okamideimos]

The Nanatsu no Taizine is here again~

Here you have a preview of my two pieces I did for this amazing zine! If you want more information, go to the @nntzine blog and you will find everything! THEY HAVE AN ARTHUR KEYCHAIN I WANT TO BUY!

I hope you like it and you can buy the zine for more!

Deimos

[moonstomars]

Here is a preview of my piece for Nanatsu no Taizine Volume II! My prompt was “Summer” and I could write my favourite characters, it was so much fun!

You can find more information on the @nntzine blog, pre-orders for the zine will run until March 29th, so take a look if you are interested. I can tell you that everyone did really amazing with their work, the zine and the merch are great! 

[baconwaffle2016]

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! 😆😆😆

[Translation: I GOT MY ZINE!!! @nntzine ]

[solynacea]

Here’s a preview of my writing piece for The Nanatsu no Taizine: Volume II! It was incredibly amazing to watch everyone come together to create wonderful stories and artwork, and there’s incredibly cute merch this year! 

Pre-orders for the zine are open until March 29, so don’t forget to grab a copy! Whether you just want the zine or want all of the merch, there’s a tier for you!

For more information, visit @nntzine or click on the links below, and expect to see another preview from me soon!

NNT Zine || Store

[thegoddesselizabeth]

The Nanatsu No Taizine is out now! I hid a few little details in my work...

Points to anyone who can spot the Danafor symbol (a nod to Liz~) !!

Double points if you can find the mark that appears on Elizabeths first reincarnations face (Savage Tribe Elizabeth) because even I can’t remember where I put it XD

[nntzine]

Welcome to the Contributors to the second edition of the Nanatsu no Taizine! We have assembled an incredibly talented group of artists and writers to bring you original NnT content through the seasons of the year. Read on for links to all of their work!

Guest Artists Mercurialvoid: Tumblr Rozeriun: Instagram TheGoddessElizabeth: Tumblr | Twitter

Featured Artists Alizarincrim: Twitter | Instagram DrawingDreams: Instagram Emylou: Facebook Elussidate: Twitter | Instagram Filenel: Tumblr | Instagram Fufu: Tumblr | Twitter Icibue: Tumblr | Twitter Jssannart: Tumblr | Instagram KenpachiOfSquad10: Tumblr | Instagram | DeviantArt Killingerblue: Twitter | Instagram | Amino Lumikha Dier: Tumblr | Twitter Nerro: Tumblr | Twitter Okami Deimos: Tumblr | Instagram Ricchan Nikyuu: Twitter | Instagram Sammieart: Tumblr | Twitter Skootle: Tumblr | Twitter | Instagram Smolmeliroll: Tumblr Solynacea: Tumblr | Twitter | Instagram TheLazyRed: Tumblr | Twitter | Instagram | YouTube TheLionsHubris: Tumblr | Twitter Timidfae: Tumblr | Twitter | Instagram Yitsuin: Twitter | Instagram Yuleira: Tumblr | Twitter | Instagram

Guest Writers BaconWaffle: Tumblr | Twitter | AO3 JacklynnFrost: Tumblr | AO3

Featured Writers AndrogynousInk: Tumblr | AO3 Galfridus: Tumblr | AO3 | FFNet Lickitysplit: Tumblr | Twitter | AO3 | FFNet Mars: Tumblr | AO3 | FFNet MikazukiNika: Tumblr | Twitter | AO3 | FFNet

Merch Artists Cyanello: Tumblr Indiraptor: Twitter | Instagram Kurahii: Tumblr | Twitter | Instagram

[nerroart]

🖍️📚❤️ please :)

🖍️ When did you start drawing? What made you start?

tbh i’ve been drawing since i remember...when i was about 11 i had best friend and we created our own world and had so many ocs, then i got too much into x-men and i still have some of the ocs (actually its been few days one of them has been 10 years with me :D)

the true passion started when i started watching anime again like...3 years ago? i got tablet and i could progress :)

📚 Is this your first zine? What made you join?

yep! this is my first. i wanted to try something new, and probably i wanted to proove myself that my art is worth something :D i was applying to four zines at basically the same time, and i was so happy that this one accepted me

❤️ Which piece (other than your own) are you most excited for?

thats hard to choose....there are so many i havent seen at all yet, out of which i saw just a glimpse on the promo...i just cant wait to have the book in my hand

thank you for the ask

everyone go check all these amazing artists and writers at @nntzine and get yourself something nice

[nntzine]

Applications for the second edition of the Nanatsu no Taizine are now open!

Applications will be open until midnight PST on November 3. All writers and artists are encouraged to apply if interested!!

Some things to remember about the zine and applications:

This theme as chosen by the fandom is “Seasons”. Contributors will be assigned a season and character(s) to create an original work.

The zine will be strictly SFW! Nothing explicit will be allowed.

The size of the art piece contributors will be asked to make is A4 size (traditional) or 2480 pixels x 3508 pixels with DPI 300 (digital)

The size of the fiction piece contributors will be asked to make is minimum of 1000 and maximum of 2000 words.

The zine is looking for a variety of characters to feature from NNT, including background characters.

Before applying, please read our guidelines here!

Ready to apply? Click here to get started!

Best of luck to everyone! Feel free to send us an ask on Tumblr or Twitter with any questions.

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