Hi, Could I Have Some Angst With Fluff With Marvus? Like The Reader Could Get Hurt By Other Trolls And

Hi, could I have some angst with fluff with Marvus? Like the reader could get hurt by other trolls and Marvus takes care of her. Pretty please with a cherry on top.đŸ„ș

Its up now! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy it! If not feel free to come back to my inbox for something a little to the left lol

More Posts from Morsartis and Others

2 years ago

Nightwing x Civilian!Reader

Warnings: None. Its fairly gen. No actual romance I just had this thought that made me laugh.

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The sound of your living room window being forced open was what woke you. Heart hammering in your chest as your hand went to the baseball bat you kept tucked away by your bed. Years of living in Gotham had made you hypervigilant of what sounds your apartment made and where. You knew for a fact that your living room window had been locked and that the sound of snapping wood had to have been the frame being forced open. The window lock itself was flimsy and you had brought it up multiple times with the landlord only to be shrugged off. Now you weren’t sure whether to feel petrified or triumphant that your concerns had been justified. Throwing back the blankets you stood slowly and raised the bat as you began creeping towards the open bedroom door. Out in the hall everything was still pitch black and you cursed yourself for not at least checking the time on the alarm by your bed. Your late night intruder hadn’t bothered to close the window behind them and the pale light of the moon and soft glow of the streetlights below gave you just enough light to see. A figure had collapsed on your couch, a hand dangling from where it awkwardly cushioned a head. As you cautiously shuffled closer you could make out the reflective glow of blue along the fingers. Your poor heart nearly collapsed in relief when you realized it was Nightwing, the resident vigilante of Bludhaven. 

When you had moved to Bludhaven a year ago you had assumed it would involve a lot less vigilante sightings than Gotham. Looking down at the battered and bruised figure of Nightwing sprawled across your couch you had to admit, this officially made Bludhaven weirder than Gotham. If only because in your years of living in Gotham you had never had a run in with the resident gaggle of vigilantes. Taking in his sweat soaked and disheveled curls, the half curl of his body that suggested a good amount of pain, and the way he was actually too big to fit on your admittedly small futon with how his legs dangled off the other end you sighed. 

A bird was a bird you supposed, Gotham looked after its own and while you had abandoned your home for Bludhaven the Gothamite still inside of you insisted you had a duty to look after the local vigilante. Setting the bat against the back of the couch you walked gingerly towards the window to assess the damage. Like you feared the lock had been snapped in two and the sizable crack that ran along the wooden frame was enough to tell you it was busted. You’d be living with a busted open window for the next few weeks while you scrounged around for enough money to cover repairs. Not even bothering to close it and risk damaging it further, you turned back towards your uninvited houseguest to check his own damage. In the light cast from the window you could make out a dark purpling bruise along the side of his face spanning from his temple to his jaw. Wincing in sympathy you shuffled closer and began gently prodding at his ribs. When he didn’t immediately shoot up in pain you returned your attention to his face. His mask was still firmly in place and you were grateful for it. You did not want to get dragged into the nightly struggle. Hoping that the bruising along his face was the worst of his injuries you tried to think of what to do next. You did not want to know what or who had managed to do that to the man. Instead you reached over and began unfolding the blanket you kept on the back of the couch. His suit left little to the imagination and you didn’t think it had to be very warm in the night chill now that he wasn’t actively fighting for his life and the lives of others. You could admit that despite the fact he was injured he had a nice figure. But that wasn’t something you’d be bringing up. Like most people you’d seen and heard about Nightwing enough to know how the media loved to sexualize him. It had to be exhausting and you weren’t about to add to it. Gently laying the blanket over him you wondered if he’d been exhausted or simply lost consciousness. There was no way for you to check without waking him and you dreaded the thought enough you weren’t about to even attempt it. Scrubbing an exhausted hand over your face you turned towards the bathroom where you kept your medkit. Closing the door mostly behind you before flicking on the lights you caught sight of your haggard appearance. You were exhausted from work. The dark circles under your eyes were a badge and testament to your workload. You missed Gotham’s much cheaper rent. Back in Crime Alley you hadn’t had to work as much as you did now. Sure the area had been Crime Alley but rent was cheap and so long as you kept your head down no one had bothered you much. Nudging open the cabinet underneath the sink you collected the medkit and swiftly left the bathroom. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. Setting the kit down on the coffee table in what you hoped was Nightwing’s line of sight, you next turned your attention to the kitchen. As if on autopilot you shuffled in and grabbed what you needed to make a couple of sandwiches. You worked in silence as you stacked them on a paper plate and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Like most people you had a few waters in the fridge more for looks than an actual drink. Taking them to the coffee table you set them down next to the medkit. Sweeping one last concerned gaze over the vigilante still passed out on your couch you took a deep breath. You had done everything you could and you had at least enough confidence to know he wouldn’t die on your couch if you left him be. Satisfied he wouldn’t die in his sleep you left Nightwing be as you shuffled on back to your room and the sweet siren’s call of your warm bed.

In the morning you awoke half convinced it was a dream garnered by too much Lifetime TV. Especially when you saw the bat sitting against the nightstand. It wasn’t until you sat up that you had a feeling it wasn’t a dream. Your medkit sat at the foot of the bed. A place you would never leave it. Wide awake with adrenaline you shot out of bed to check if Nightwing was alright. What greeted you was an empty living room, the blanket folded and placed where it always was, no food or water left on the coffee table. Your second clue that it hadn’t been a strange dream came when you wandered into your own bathroom. Condensation clung to your mirror and one of your towels was definitely missing. Looking around further showed that he’d clearly had a shower before he left and you wondered exactly how tired you had to have been not to hear the water running considering the only bathroom in your apartment was in your room. Shaking it off you brushed your teeth and wondered why Nightwing had felt so comfortable showering in your apartment with only a flimsy bathroom door between you. Was he just that confident in his ability to sense someone sneaking up on him? Not that you would have even attempted. There were certain boundaries even you wouldn’t push and going out of your way to learn someone’s secret identity was one of them. Not that you thought you’d even recognize him. Grabbing the keys to your mailbox and a dog treat you locked the apartment door behind you. Like every morning you were going down to the ground floor to grab yesterday’s mail. No vigilante was going to ruin your morning routine. 

No matter how bizarre. 

Your routine was something you shared with your neighbor directly above you. Though more specifically you shared the routine with his dog. Your neighbor usually went down at the same time as you did every morning to grab yesterday’s mail and take his adorable puppy for her morning walk. To say you adored that dog would be an understatement. She had the ability to happily and shamelessly distract and derail your thoughts every time you saw her. She was the sweetest, happiest, thing you had ever seen with her wiggling body and lolling tongue. Truth be told, of which you would never admit, you could pick Haley out of a line up before you could pick out her owner. It was incredibly embarrassing but there was really nothing about Dick that stood out to you other than his dog. Sure, he was an attractive man, as your other neighbors liked to gossip, but Haley had always had your full attention. You hadn’t even realized how long he’d been your neighbor until he’d gotten Haley. Your direct nextdoor neighbor had practically laughed herself to tears when you admitted it to her. Cackling about how of course you’d notice the puppy before Dick ‘sex on legs’ Grayson. Which you couldn’t even argue against. 

As always Haley was sitting by Dick’s feet and promptly burst into happy wiggles and pants at the sight of you. Dick glanced up and then he smiled in greeting before going back to his mail, Haley’s leash draped loosely over an arm. Like always you smiled back before grabbing your mail, feeling Haley start pawing at your leg for her daily treat. Tucking the mail underneath your arm you knelt down to scratch Haley behind the ears. 

“Hi there sweetheart.” You cooed cheerfully just like every morning since you’d seen her. She was soft, smelling vaguely of vanilla and oatmeal shampoo. “Did your daddy give you a bath?” 

You thought you might have heard a huff of a laugh from the man in question but Haley had already zeroed in on the treat in your hand and had sat down with impatient squirming for her treat. 

“You’ve got her trained quicker than I have.” Dick groaned when you handed her the dog biscuit. That made you laugh. 

“I’m just happy you let me spoil her. She’s such a good girl.” You smiled and gave her one last scratch before straightening up. 

“She’s the best.” Dick agreed mildly before yawning. Your gaze was sympathetic. 

“Long night?” You asked.

“Yeah. You?” 

“Something like that.” You agreed unsure if you should admit to Nightwing stretched out on your couch in the wee hours of the morning. Or the fact he had apparently been comfortable enough to use your shower and steal one of your towels. Did that mean he was coming back? Or were you going to have to buy another towel?

“I better get going. You know how Haley gets when she can’t get her usual walk.” He told you with an affectionate eye roll. You laughed. 

“I’d be cranky too if I couldn’t get in some exercise.” You teased, “Bye Haley.”

Haley yipped at you tail wagging as you wiggled your fingers at her.

“Have a safe walk.” You told Dick when you glanced back at him. He smiled. 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You could feel his eyes watching you as you turned back towards the stairs and disappeared behind the door.


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1 year ago

i saw that you write for MHA i was wondering if you could write about one of the LOV (preferably shiggy or dabi) finding Eri before the heros did and raising her?

I loved this request so much I almost wanted to make it an au but I promised myself I wouldn’t do that unless I was gonna make an AO3 account. (A//N: I AM SO SORRY I MISINTERPRETED THIS AS HEADCANONS AND NOT STORY I WILL WRITE A SMALL DRABBLE FOR YOU AS SOON AS I FIND THE TIME AND I WILL TAG YOU I AM SO SORRY)

Honestly as wrapped up as Dabi has been in his quest to destroy his father I don’t think he would care much about Eri herself. 

Definitely would have her use her quirk on him to see what all the damage can be reversed and as an excuse to push himself even further. 

Like make no mistake I’m as big a fan of Dabi being a good brother as everyone else but realistically it won’t happen. 

I do think he would grow to care for Eri, however. 

In his own selfish way. 

Shigaraki, however, is another story. 

Listen, I 100% believe that Shigaraki would project his younger self onto Eri. 

However if this is pre getting his shit together by slipping further away from the light Shigaraki he would have no clue how to take care of someone else that isn’t himself. 

Definitely would shove her off into the hands of Kurogiri with an order to look after the girl. 

Which Kurogiri would complain about but still do very well! 

But if you want to shift the timeline around a bit for your bidding and have a more serious Shigaraki then he would take Eri on as AFO did for himself. 

Whether this is good or not is another story entirely and completely up for interpretation!

Shigaraki would see to it that Eri develops her powers and would definitely be feeding her some LOV propaganda about heroes (though let's be honest he has some genuine criticisms that I love to see addressed in the plot). 

Overall I don’t think he’d be a father figure to her so much as an older brother figure. 

He would tease and taunt her often, not always with any malicious intent but trying to mimic the relationship he once had with his sister. 

Kurogiri would be left to do the brunt of the actual raising when it comes to Eri and I full-heartedly believe he would do a fantastic job of it. Most likely he would categorize raising Eri as following Shigaraki’s orders and by extension the orders of AFO to look after Shigaraki’s development. 

Shigaraki can’t raise a child by himself and run the league, now could he? No. So obviously Kurogiri is doing his job!

I think Toga would be the most excited at the prospect of another girl in the league. Especially one that would be easy for her to befriend. Definitely put on babysitting duty often. 

Toga would be the one to introduce Eri to more girly things like painting nails and doing hair. Though Kurogiri would have to keep an eye on them to make sure Toga doesn’t get too carried away and try to take a little blood. 

Eri would definitely grow up to be a biter if she was raised by the league. 

You have to be just a little unhinged to survive there. Let's be real here.


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4 years ago

Polypa Goezee x Reader

Popcorn littered the floor in a spray of carnage, the large olive bowl it had been in was tipped over to its side. On your laptop screen the credits to some Alternian romcom was playing in its distorted way, the quality hadn’t been the best but you hadn’t put it on for yourself. Your arm had fallen asleep where Polypa was using it as a pillow, her hair still damp from the shower earlier. She looked peaceful like this, one arm thrown over your stomach and the other cradling the back of your neck gingerly- she was always so careful to guard your weak spots- one of her legs was hooked over yours and a soft purr was rumbling from her chest. Rubbing her arm the best you could when it was trapped underneath her you carefully reached with the other to shut your laptop. It was late and you were exhausted from the feelings jam the both of you had hammered out earlier in the night. Cocooned in the soft blankets and pillows that made up your pile it was easy to wiggle just a bit and get comfortable. In her sleep Polypa lightly tightened her grip and shifted closer, that soft purr turning into a deeper rumble that vibrated your own chest where she was pressed as close as she could get to you. The rest of your room was shrouded in darkness, the curtains drawn shut to give you both a better sense of privacy. Polypa had arranged the pile to be on the far side of your room between the wall and your bed, the door shut and locked on the other side. Your little corner was secure and close to a vent that was providing plenty of heat for the both of you. Warm and content your mind drifted from one thought to the next. You’d missed this, the easy way you and Polypa coexisted when it was just the two of you. Ever since the reset and getting back your memories you’d been searching for your friends. You’d finally found them after two years of constant vigilance. This new shared world had been a blessing and though it still proved to have its fair share of problems you couldn’t help but to be grateful. It had given you your friends back. All of them safe and sound in a world less harsher than the one they remembered. You smiled to remember how you’d found Polypa. Despite all the places you had looked you’d ran into her at the mall of all things. You had both made fools of yourself crying all over each other and clinging to the point an employee had to ask you both to take it somewhere else. That had been a year ago. Since then the two of you spent as much time as you could with each other, most of those early days had been getting to know each other again- reassuring each other that your relationship was still there. Even now there were times that you had to reassure each other that the other was there. Things weren’t easy. They never had been. Between the two of you and the things this world like to throw at you trouble was a familiar companion. But the two of you were finding your rhythm and learning together how to survive and thrive. This world wasn’t exactly kind, there were things that kept you up at night, made you sick to your stomach. Problems from your world carried over to this one and the problems on Alternia had also settled here. Some problems had been dealt away with, had to be in order to coexist, but others only amplified. There were people out there that didn’t understand your relationship with Polypa- that openly scorned it. Sometimes it made you wonder if your moirail would be better off without you. 

Running a hand through Polypa’s hair you sighed. You deserved to be selfish, at least in this regard. Polypa was your moirail and no one could take her away from you. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead you settled fully against her. It was far too late in the night- or rather far too early in the morning- for these thoughts. A clawed hand gently pressed against your cheek as Polypa’s eyes cracked open a sliver. Warm and understanding as she gazed at you. 

“Sleep.” 

And you slept.


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5 years ago

Modern Fantasy Dwarf Headcanons #2

Dwarven young are extremely well protected. Most will not leave the mountains until they are the human equivalent of ten years of age. More so, dwarven young will not be allowed out of their homes until they are the human equivalent of five. This has caused the misconception of dwarven babies being carved from stone. 

Of course the parents often take it as a compliment! To dwarves comparing the child to rocks or stronger metals/gems is similar to saying their child is strong and will live a long life. Common things dwarven parents call their children are often Pebble, Stone, Precious Gem, Gold Nugget, Ore, and in some instances Coal Ember. This, of course, only makes the misconception of dwarves being carved from stone more popular. 

Common nick names given to children often have to do with the parent’s craft. It is not uncommon to hear the dwarf child being called Little Pickaxe or Little Forge depending on profession. Many times the parent chooses to only refer to the child by a nickname when outside of the mountain they live in. It is an old custom carried on into the present that is meant to protect the child by making sure a stranger cannot trick them into thinking they can be trusted. 

When it comes to human charges, however, the rules change. Often dwarven family will refer to the human as their middle name, a family name, or by descriptors. Though some will refer to them as metals/stones/precious gems and the like it is not as common as the former. It can be guessed with a surprising bit of accuracy that a dwarf who refers to their human(s) as metals, stones, or precious gems has known that human since their birth and has taken over most of that human’s raising since then. This also carries over to other species adopted by dwarves though humans are the most common. 

It is considered bad manners to refer to someone as their actual name when introducing them to strangers unless that stranger is in a higher position than both persons. If one does not know the rank of the stranger a safe bet to go with is the dwarf’s family name/clan name with a descriptor such as ‘Dark hair of the Irontooth Clan’. Children are not to be introduced to strangers until they are firmly in their teens. This has caused quite a bit of shock to dwarves being introduced to children of other races. The most children get as introduction to a stranger is ‘my child’ or ‘my (2nd/1st/3rd/etc..) eldest/youngest’. 

WARNING: Do not ask a dwarf child their name. Ever. 


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3 years ago

My inbox is officially empty and requests are still open! Feel free to slide in. Until then I'm just gonna vibe with my own amusement.


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2 years ago

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

In the warmth and safety of your bed you tried to ignore the way your phone was buzzing lost in the sheets. You had decided to stay home for once instead of letting your friends rope you into going to some party you didn’t want to be miserable at. Instead you’d enjoyed some alone time and crawled into bed as it had grown darker outside. Being home, on Earth, was still a surreal experience for you. But after the destruction of Alternia and the mass exodus of trolls fleeing the carnage you had slowly tried to come to terms with it. Which all yet again led to your predicament. Again your phone buzzed and giving into demands you picked it up and checked your messages. 

Most of them were pictures of the party you had declined to go to, all from Cirava. Scrolling mindlessly through them you paused on his last few texts. 

‘Where are you lmao’

‘Thought I saw you sneak out carrying your shoes’

‘I still need those back btw lol’

Sighing heavily you already knew the guy was higher than a damn kite. He usually was when he deigned to go to parties and if you weren’t with him he had a tendency to pull shit like this. Another message pinged through.

‘Must have been dreaming of bumping into you or something lmao’

It could have been a sweet compliment. Unfortunately things were never that simple. Letting the phone slip out of your grasp and back onto the bed you rolled over and tried to get some sleep. You’d managed to doze for a short bit before your phone began to buzz more insistently. Groaning in frustration you snatched it from your side and squinted angrily at the photoshopped image of Cirava on a moisturewave background. Rolling your eyes you hit decline on the call. Just as soon as you had done so the phone lit up again with his caller ID. Hitting decline again you checked the time and felt another swell of annoyance. 

‘Its 3 AM Cirava’

‘I’m tryna change your mind lmao’

‘Why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ 

Letting the phone fall onto your chest you tried to take a deep breath. He was just high and lonely. You didn’t want to be cruel but it was truthful, he really only called you when he was high. Always trying to talk you into something or another but tonight you were going to stay home and ignore it. You could apologize in the morning but not now, not tonight. Again your phone rang and in a fit of frustration you finally answered it, cutting Cirava off mid greeting. 

“Hi.” You replied flatly, “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” 

“Lemme get somewhere darker.” He shouted over the music in the background, you knew he was only going to talk the same shit he always did. “I need a partner.” 

You sighed, doubting he could hear it over the noise. 

“Well, are you out tonight?” He continued. 

“Cirava its getting harder and harder to get you to listen, you know that right?” 

“What?” He shouted clearly not having heard you. 

“You’re incapable of making alright decisions, always having bad ideas.” 

“Its only three in the morning,” He scoffed, “and I’m tryin’ to change your mind.” 

You stayed silent. Frustration was back along with old hurt. 

“I left you multiple missed calls-,”

Unable to stand it anymore you cut him off.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” You asked. Maybe it was the hurt talking or maybe you still wanted a genuine answer. Either way you knew you wouldn’t get one. For a moment the other side of the line was silent and you wondered if he’d hung up on you. 

“I can’t see you here.” He spoke, voice surprisingly subdued, “ Wonderin’ where I am.” 

What was that supposed to mean? Did he like jerking you around for his own amusement?

“It sort of feels like I’m runnin’ out of time.” He sighed, you could hear the rustle of fabric and realized abruptly that it was silent on the other side, “I haven’t found all I was hoping to find.” 

“Cirava-,”

“I know you said you gotta be up early in the morning, ‘gotta have an early night’, but I’m worried I’m startin’ to bore you, baby.” The use of the human pet name had you on edge. Cirava rarely bothered to use it. 

“Then call me when you’re no longer high.” You replied softer than you’d like. 

You knew he wouldn’t. 

He only called you when he was high. 


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2 years ago
Its Almost Here


its almost here


1 year ago

@qu1nntastrophy

How dare you reblog this and not share the fantrolls.

I demand the lore

hi idk if you like to hear other peoples headcanons so if you dont pls ignore but i want to talk to SOMEONE about my silly purpleblood headcanon

-

alright so; face paint. i dont particularly like the "every purpleblood is a clown" thing (but if you do then hell yeah go off love is real) as it kinda limits the character variety of that caste, but i DO like the face paint as a detail so ive settled with this: i headcanon that the face paint purples are prone to wear is not a Clown thing nor a Cult thing, but a cultural thing. all (or most) purplebloods wear a coat of face paint to symbolically conceal themselves. showing your bare face to someone youre not close/in a quadrant with is seen as a taboo in purpleblood cultures. additionally, letting a quadantmate/close friend see ones face is probably the biggest sign of trust a purple can do (depending on how they feel about the tradition). and having them HELP WASH IT OFF??? ough, now thats /tender/.

I need you to understand that I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL over this idea and it goes perfect with an older headcanon thing I did a while back

Here: https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/639719797773549568/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just?source=share

AND LISTEN- LISTEN-

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME YOUR OWN HEADCANONS I LOVE THAT SHIT.

God okay but like, the TENDERNESS??? Of washing off your big purples paint??? The damn SWEETNESS and TRUST of being allowed to help them apply it in the mornings???

NO ONE TOUCH ME IM NOT OKAY

EDIT: YES! Yes I love talking about other peoples headcanons! TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HEAD CANONS-


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Morsartis

Your friendly pansexual fantasy writer and theorist. Come and be welcome. I'm happy to take requests for different fandoms as well! !!REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND ENCOURAGED!!

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