Look I Know I Never Post Art On Here But Take This

✨ STUPID HEADCANON ✨

MC gets kidnapped by a cult that worships the brothers, and while the cult leader is monologuing about how MC is going to be sacrificed to the great seven lords of Hell, this poor human is just sitting there like “Damn this is gonna be hella awkward once I summon the brothers during the most dramatic moment”.

Cult Leader: We call upon our seven demonic princes of the Devildom to accept this sacrifice-

MC: Princes? Ugh, I almost forget those bastards are royalty. Though, it does explain why Mammon is always so iffy about doing his own laundry.

Cult Leader: What-

MC: Nononono, don’t mind me, continue on. Sorry for the interruption.

Cult Leader: …ahem. We call upon Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth.

MC: Pfft, sleepy brat probably isn’t even listening right now.

Cult Leader (getting annoyed): We call upon Beelzebub, the feared Avatar of Gluttony-

MC: Oh, shit, you might not wanna call upon Beel, if he finds out you’re bothering me you all might end up as second breakfast.

Cult Leader: AND WITHOUT FURTHER INTERRUPTIONS. We ask Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust to-

MC: You’re not even going to give Asmo an extra compliment? At least call him the “divinely beautiful” Avatar of Lust.

Cult Leader: WE SUMMON THE VERY VERY SCARY AVATAR OF WRATH AS WELL.

MC (remembering how the last time they hung out with Satan he started spontaneously weeping because he remembered the sad ending of a book he read): …yeah. Hella scary, that one.

Cult Leader: And the Avatar of Envy, the master strategist, Leviathan!

MC: Master strategist? You know what? I’ll give you that, that one checks out.

Cult Leader: And the Avatar of Greed Mammon-

MC: My first man :D

Mammon: Hell yeah, human! Up top!

The cult: …AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

MC: Wow, they didn’t even get to Lucifer. How’d you get here so fast, Mam?

Mammon: Oh, I just heard you refer to me as your first man, as ya should, obviously, and I was so happy I decided to pop in and give ya some positive reinforcement. Now where’s my high five?

MC: I’m tied to this alter thing.

Mammon: Oh shit, ya are-

starting 2024 with a Toji

How many times do you think that Hawk’s S/O has walked in on either a shattered mirror or Hawks knocked out in front of a mirror because he’s mistaken it for an intruder?

Too many times. But things have gotten better. 

You raised the handheld mirror right in front of his face, steeling your nerves to ensure that you won’t panic in case he reacts violently. 

He stares at his reflection intensely while you study his body language. No shrinking of the pupils, no bristling of his wings...he’s handling it much better than last time. It’s time to ask the big question: “Who do you see, Hawks?”

Without missing a beat, he answers. “Me. It’s just me.”

Your shoulders slacken from relief. “That’s right. Good job.”

Next, you guide him to the bathroom mirror. His second test was the ‘intruder that likes to watch you groom yourself.’

“Who is that behind me, Hawks?” You ask. 

He calmly watches himself. “Just me.”

You smile. “That’s right.” He’s making amazing progress, but there’s still one more test.

The two of you enter the bedroom and stop in front of the full-length mirror. So many times have you replaced this poor piece of furniture after getting heavily damage. So many times have you seen Hawks writhing on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass.

He may have passed the other two mirrors, but how will he handle his greatest enemy: the full image of ‘another’ handsome male?

You take a deep breath and say it. “Who do you see standing there, Hawks?”

One beat.

Unlike the previous ones, Hawks doesn’t instantly answer, and that makes you anxious.

Two beats.

You really like this mirror. Please don’t destroy it.

“Me.”

Wha...you can’t believe it. 

“Hawks...Hawks, you did it!” 

He lets out a silly squawking noise when you roughly embrace him. “Well, this is embarrassing. I really was just fighting myself this entire time?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you smother his face with rapid-fire kisses. “I’m so proud of you.”

--

The two of you celebrated at the nearby park, feeding ducks at the pond.

“Sorry that I’ve been stressing you out all this time. I always thought I was doing you a favor, keeping the house safe and all that,” Hawks said as he tossed seeds into the water. The ducks gulped them down in a flash.

You decided to feed the shy fish instead. “It’s alright, I know your bird instincts get the best of you sometimes. I’m glad we got through this together.”

“Gosh, this is worse than the time I picked a fight with that stuffed...” He trailed off.

You were about to ask what distracted him until you saw his face. He was frozen, glaring fiercely down at the water.

At his reflection.

Your cheerful mood quickly switched to something more terrified. “Hawks, no.”

He didn’t appear to hear you, choosing instead to threaten the mysterious figure in the water. “You got a problem, buddy?” His wings were slowly spreading out for extra intimidation. He smirked when his reflection did the same. “Tough guy, huh? I know your game. Trying to hide among the fish and pounce on my girl when I’m not looking, are you?”

Already panicking, you grab his shoulders to try and pull him away. “Stop, Hawks. It’s you. Just step away from the pond and calm down.”

“No,” Hawks turns to you. “Don’t fall for it, dove. This is the real deal, I can see it in his eyes. You think I’m stupid enough to get fooled by this reflection bullshit again?”

Your eyes awkwardly look to the side while your mouth opens, then closes.

For a second, Hawks looks genuinely hurt, but before you can say anything, he returns his attention to the water with newfound fury. “You made my own lovebird doubt me, you son of a bitch!”

It happened so fast. The ducks quacked loudly and flapped away in shock when he suddenly dove into the water.

“Hawks!”  You watched him splash wildly in the water, at first attempting to strike at the rival that he could no longer see, but his anger was replaced by fear when he realized his situation.

“Help! I can’t swim!” The number 2 hero of Japan was screaming and flailing in a duck pond, in serious danger of drowning.

You didn’t even bother to take the time to appreciate how absolutely ridiculous this scene was. You already removed your shoes and hopped into the water, dodging his swinging arms and wings to grab and pull him back up on the grass. Thank goodness for his light hollow bones.

Hawks was shivering on his hands and knees, spitting out water and...a small unlucky fish that you quickly picked up and tossed back into the pond.

“Bastard almost killed me,” he sputtered. 

“No, you almost killed you. This is no different than the mirrors, Hawks. My god, do I have to teach you how to not fight water now?!” 

He shook out his wings while you squeezed out as much water as possible out of your shirt. “Baby, you didn’t see him. You didn’t see that annoying look on his face and those badass wings. He was a threat. I don’t know where he went but-”

You notice him eyeing the water again, where his reflection is slowly reappearing as the ripples calm.

“There he is!”

“Hawks don’t do it!”

He did it.

With another splash and more confused quacks, he was thrashing in the water again, and when he lost sight of the winged stranger for the second time...

“Help! I can’t swim!”

TUMBLR SEXYREMATCH POLL MASTERPOST

I'll update this as the rounds progress.

ROUND ONE:

Lewis Pepper (Mystery Skulls Animated) vs. Professor Venomous (OK KO) WINNER: LEWIS

Guzma (Pokémon) vs. Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls) WINNER: BILL

The Warden (Superjail) vs. Almond Cookie (Cookie Run) WINNER: ALMOND COOKIE

The Once-ler (The Lorax (2012)) vs. Megamind (Megamind) WINNER: MEGAMIND

Sans (Undertale) vs. Junkrat (Overwatch) WINNER: SANS

Tony the Talking Clock (Don't Hug Me I'm Scared) vs. Black Hat (Villainous) WINNER: TONY

King Dice (Cuphead) vs. Raymond (Animal Crossing) WINNER: RAYMOND

Wheatley (Portal 2) vs. Doc Ock (Marvel) WINNER: WHEATLEY

Nagito Komaeda (Danganronpa) vs. Dr. Habit (Smile for Me) WINNER: KOMAEDA

Cecil Gershwin Palmer (Welcome to Night Vale) vs. Slenderman (???) WINNER: CECIL

Jack Skellington (the Nightmare Before Christmas) vs. Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) WINNER: JACK

Ingo (Pokémon) vs. Bruno Madrigal (Encanto) WINNER: INGO

Purple Guy/William Afton (Five Nights at Freddy's) vs. Spamton (Deltarune) WINNER: SPAMTON

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) vs. Loki (Marvel) WINNER: LOKI

Arataka Reigen (Mob Psycho 100) vs. Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice (all versions)) WINNER: REIGEN

Herobrine (Minecraft) vs. Benr(e)y (Half Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware) WINNER: HEROBRINE

ROUND TWO:

NOTE: Starting round 2, I'm ditching the bracket and opting for randomized matchups. The left side will stay on the left and the right will stay on the right, but otherwise it'll be shuffled.

Wheatley (Portal 2) vs. Lewis Pepper (Mystery Skulls Animated)

Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls) vs. Raymond (Animal Crossing)

Tony the Talking Clock (Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared) vs. Almond Cookie (Cookie Run)

Sans (Undertale) vs. Megamind (Megamind)

Loki (Marvel) vs. Nagito Komaeda (Danganronpa)

Cecil Gershwin Palmer (Welcome to Night Vale) vs. Herobrine (Minecraft)

Ingo (Pokémon) vs. Jack Skellington (the Nightmare Before Christmas)

Arataka Reigen (Mob Psycho 100) vs. Spamton (Deltarune)

REVIVAL ROUND: The Once-ler (The Lorax (2012)) vs. King Dice (Cuphead)

Emmet and Ingo wallpaper, posters version. Soon on my shop

I'm still in my submas obsession

I know you said you only might accept pregnancy requests depending on what it is so I wanted to try 😅 how about shigaraki and reader break up while she’s unknowingly pregnant with his child and he bumps into said child years later and connects the dots that it’s his? If you don’t like it feel free to ignore this request 😊

I liked this nonnie.

I am terrified that by saying that I’m going to be inundated with pregnancy HC’s, lol. But, this request I really leaned into. Plus, it’s more about a kid than a pregnancy. 

So, thank you for asking and letting me slip out of my comfort zone. It’s always good to do that every once in awhile and this ask was a great reminder of that.

It’s a bit melancholic, but I think it fits with Tomura, at least, in my mind.

Now, this is not in canon. This is not like, pre-war arc, or post-war arc. If anything, it’s more of an AU. I’d put Tomura in his late 20s to early 30s.  

warnings: none really, just some sweet, sweet interactions and mild angst 

Hestia Hestia, in Greek religion, is the goddess of the hearth, a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and one of the 12 Olympian deities. When the gods Apollo and Poseidon became suitors for her hand, she swore to remain a maiden forever, and Zeus, the king of the gods, bestowed upon her the honor of presiding over all sacrifices. 

The shouting noise of children set his teeth on edge.

Toga had insisted that the bus stop by the school was the best place for the information exchange.

They won’t look for you there, she’d assured him. It’s like hiding in plain sight. Yeah, it’s patrolled, but it’s only an old security guard who does the rounds. Besides, he’s retired from the police force, she qualified, and was more like a lazy cat than an attentive scent hound.  

It’s the best place, really.

So, Shigaraki had made the long trek across Tokyo.

He kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through back alleys and streets. Although the dominance of the League had waned some over the years, he was still a wanted criminal, responsible for countless death and threats on hero society.

He was still the King of his slice of the underworld.

Besides, he reassured himself as he loitered by the bench under the bus stop, he could trust Toga.

She had improved in leaps and bounds as she came of age; deadlier, sleeker, more attuned to the ebbs and flows of the world around her. She wasn’t that girl who chattered about blood anymore.

Oh, she still held a strange fascination with the fluid. But she had more control over those impulses that drove her. If she said it was the best place, well, who was he to argue? Toga had been with him from the beginning, a vital ally. Hell, at this point she was close to being a friend.

Shigaraki is still musing when the ball taps its way to his feet.

It clatters against the pavement; the rubber shuttling it along the loose rocks and leaves. Unthinkingly, Shigaraki lifts his shoe to balance against its unbound movement, stilling its lulling bounces.

Must be from that schoolyard, he thinks, his red eyes flashing up at the low chain-link fence that separates the school grounds from the busy street.

There’s no child dashing their way to retrieve it, so he lets his gaze slip from the teeming masses of giggling youngsters. It’s a pretty blue. The ball looks new. Hardly a scuffed and battered thing.

He keeps it under his sole, toying with it, rolling it meditatively as he slips back into his thoughts.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

It’s a small voice that calls to him and he turns his head back to the fence, looking for the source.

It’s a girl.

She’s leaning against the metal, her hands clutching into the links, cocking her head inquisitively at him.

Her nose wrinkles at his silence, and she shouts another demand.

“Mister, that’s my ball. Toss it back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say please?” Shigaraki taunts, his lips lifting in a quick grin. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to engage with this kid, but something about her plucky attitude resonates with him.

She leans away from the fence, that scowl deepening on her soft features.

“Aren’t grown ups not supposed to steal things?”

He laughs at her snark. He can’t help it. Oh, this kid’s fun.

Carefully slipping the ball into his hands, he moves closer to the fence. He can see her a little better now.

She’s still got that deep frown on her face and her dark hair is gleaming in the afternoon sun, some strands catching the light, reflecting a deep, auburn, hue. He’s just about to chuck the ball to her when he catches sight of her eyes.

They’re red.

Not that red eyes are unusual. There are plenty of people milling around Tokyo with them. But hers are different.

No, these eyes are like looking into a mirror for Shigaraki. They flint and glare with the same sheen as his own. It’s a prefect reflection.

His feet suddenly feel heavy, leaden, and he can’t lift his arms. Who is this child? Why does she-

“Ok, ok, mister. Can I please have my ball back? You’re still stealing it if you don’t, so I’m not apologizing for that. I might... if you give it back to me, cuz’ it’s my ball, not yours. And, stealing makes you a thief.”

She’s rolling those uncanny irises at his stiff form, and a huffing sigh escapes her small mouth.

“What’s your name?” Shigaraki asks, hands trembling over the rubber of the ball.

“Not supposed to tell that to strangers, mister.”

He smiles again, bemused. Well, he thinks begrudgingly, she’s a clever little thing. Whoever she is.

A sharp bell echoes across the yard and she turns her head at the sound, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Here,” Shigaraki relents, gently flipping the ball over the fence, bouncing it to her feet.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, quickly snatching up her prize. Those red eyes of hers meet his own, and he can feel a low shiver echo up his spine. What’s up with this reaction? It almost feels visceral, like some sort of otherworldly pull on him.

“Sorry I called you a thief,” she apologizes, quickly bowing her head, ducking those eerie eyes from view.

He’s not sure what to say, so he continues to watch her. She doesn’t seem perturbed by this, opting to giggle at him as her little head lifts.

“You’re weird,” she assess, a smile finally spreading over her lips, her cheeks rounding and softening. 

Tch, she’s rude, but she’s also cute, Shigaraki thinks, snorting at her frankness.

She turns, dashing away from him, her dark hair flowing around her back as she goes.

Shigaraki shakes his head, trying to dislodge those lingering questions that keep floating to the back of his mind.

He’ll never see her again, he reasons, wandering back to the bus stop. Trying to tamp down the urge to look for her again, to pinpoint her from the other giggling and shouting children on the playground.

But he did see her again.

He comes back to the stop a few weeks later.

There’s no information pickup this time. There’s no real reason for him to even be on this side of town.

He just can’t get her out of his mind.

This little kid had shaken something within his psyche. He kept dreaming about her. Well, not her, really. No, there was someone else haunting his dreams.

He hasn’t thought about you in years.

But now? Now, he can’t get you out of his head. He even feels like he can feel you some nights, warm against his side. He sulks in the memories of the familiar touches that the two of you shared, the love that you’d pressed into him, so, so long ago.

He saw the girl in those moments. Resting in your arms as you looked up, your eyes bright against her dark head. The girl would laugh and run to him, those reflective red eyes shining with mirth. 

It was fucking strange.

He both hated, and loved, the repetitive nature of these illusions. They made him feel safe and warm, but they also chilled him to his very bones. It was unsettling.

Unsure what else to do, he’d back come to the bus stop.

It’s early afternoon. Close to the time he’d visited it before. He waits on the lonely bench, his hands pressed together and that strange tremble races through his veins.

This is stupid, he thinks, his eyes lowering from the sea of kids, all twisting and turning in a heap as they play. It’s an impossibility, really. The chances of that girl losing her ball again is minuscule. There’s no way he can call to her either. It’s a waste. He shouldn’t even be here.

He’s standing to leave, when that small voice reaches him.

“Oh! You’re back.”

His head whips around, his long white hair glowing against the sunlight.

There she is.

She’s gripping the fence again, and she’s staring right at him.

Shigaraki smiles. It’s a gentle lift and he can feel his heart tapping a rough tattoo against his ribs. He steps toward her, kneeling when he gets close, careful to not overstep his bounds.

He’s not wanting to startle her.

No, he’s wanting to talk with her. Maybe she’ll drop some kinda clue why he’s so drawn to her. Or maybe she’ll morph into any other child again. Plain, uninteresting. Slipping from that odd ghost that she’s become to his subconscious. 

He hopes it’s the latter. But part of him also longs for it to be the former.

She’ll hop to the fence around 3:15.

She looks for him now, used to the routine of his presence.

He told her to call him Tomura, and the name falling from her lips made his heart ache.

Tomura stopped by on Fridays. Careful to not stay too long, to not draw too much attention to himself.

At first, he’d sneak her little trinkets. 

A little plastic toy of his, one that he had since he was a kid. She’d squealed with delight and clutched it to her. He’d grinned at that, remembering how he’d once held onto the thick plastic himself. 

Once, he’d just plucked a nearby flower as he walked to the school, presenting it to her outreached grasp. He’d watched proudly as she tucked it behind her ear, the color glossy beside her hair.

She’s still a sassy little thing. But she’s softened a little, too. Her voice losing that early, untrusting, edge.

He didn’t ask her much. Sometimes they both just sat in silence as she sketched designs into the dirt. Sometimes he would listen to her chatter about her day. Her classmates, her teacher. Once, she’d even pressed something over the fence to him.

It was a drawing.

He’s not sure if it really was all that well done, or if it’s just his heavy bias toward her. But he loves the mix of color and lines. He’d asked who the people were.

One was her friend, Kenji. One was her teacher. One was him.

He’d pinned it to the wall in his room. Displaying it, flaunting the gift. He looked at it every morning, admiring her work.

He’s late one day, and she scolds him, her small arms draping over the fence.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she chatters, her red eyes lingering against his, the two colors casting back the same hue.

“Was running behind,” Tomura replies, leaning against the low concrete barrier, resting his back against the fence.

Her little hands reach for his hair, playing with the pearlescent tendrils, weaving some into knots and braids. 

He doesn’t mind.

“Hey, Tomura,” she says, working a tiny hairband into her creation, her voice curious.

“Hmm,” he hums, careful to not shift his head, not wanting to disrupt her hard work.

“You didn’t ask my name again. At least… not after that one day.”

“Do you want me to ask?” He queries, his pulse lifting.

He’d wanted to ask her again, but he didn’t want to startle her, to shatter these innocences that they shared.

“It’s Beryl,” she answers. She says it confidently, and he turns to face her.

She grins at him, wiggling one loose tooth playfully at his serious expression, trying to tug a laugh from him.

“Beryl?” he repeats, unable to keep that awed hush from his raspy tones. It’s a pretty name. It suits her, really. But it’s strange. It’s not Japanese. 

You hadn’t been Japanese. 

“That’s a good name,” he assures her. “But, it’s not… you don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah,” Beryl concedes, her vermillion eyes roving over his face. “My mom’s not from here.”

His nostrils flare at that.

He hasn’t asked her about her mother. He’s unsure if it’s a general disinterest on his part, or trepidation. He fears it’s the latter.

Gulping, he tilts his head at her, feeling that soft braid she’s plaited into his hair shifting.

“Who’s your mother?”

“Who is she? She’s my mom, silly.”

“No,” he pauses, ignoring that creeping tremor that’s working its way to the top of his skull, his skin prickling and cooling. “I mean…what’s her name?”

“Oh! Her name is-”

“Beryl! Beryl, it’s time to come inside.” A teacher is calling for her. 

Tomura startles away, drifting to his feet and pacing quickly back to the bus stop. He can’t help the snarl that etches its way across his lips. He’d been so close. So fucking close…

He chances a glance back at the fence and catches sight of Beryl. She’s dashing across the playground, her dark hair waving in the sun.

Japan is about to slip into summer. School will come to a close, moving into a long break. He won’t see her again for almost a month.

His heart sinks at that realization and he grits his teeth. Slipping his hands into his dark trench coat, he steps across the street, away from the bus stop, away from the little girl that’s feeling more and more like his own.

Edit: oh hey. so, i couldn’t stfu about this and created a sequel: Materfamilias 

hahaha & part iii

something about tumblr sexymen

eyeless old married couple

★ Dark Cream week ★ is timed to coincide with the story’s anniversary & dark cream (Cross x Shattered Dream) ship ♡

“Now that positivity is not always good, and negativity not always bad... what's your choice?”

Choose one of the two suggested prompts, at your discretion ☆ You can also cheat the game and use both on the same level, if you dare (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

You can skip or alternate days (later prompts will be reblogged on the corresponding day). Any form of art is welcomed! ♪( ´▽｀)

The week is focused on dark cream ship, so it’s about Cross and Shattered Dream. Dream and/or cream ship, as well as other characters are acceptable as long as the main pairing is dark cream (´⌣`ʃƪ)

Prompts don’t have to be tied to Dark Cream story only. Other genders & designs, humanization, crossovers and so on are welcomed!╰(*´︶`*)╯

No n/sfw or lemon works here, please (ùwó)

Use the tag #dark cream week and/or tag me so everyone can see your works! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

Cross!Sans from xtaleunderverse by jakei95

Shattered Dream from shattereddreamsau by galacii / galacii-gallery; Dream by jokublog

If you have any questions, feel free to ask (*´∀｀*) Good luck and have fun! ☆