Emi

Drawing a character suffering js such a fun experience

Just make sure to say exactly what you want for the design, since she likes to take some.. creative liberty.

Since it was mentioned that Toga had at least one little sister, I connected her to that. But she originally was just a little Chuunibiyou girl that's afraid of blood even though she has a blood-related quirk. Now, she's that, AND a raging lesbian. (Less emphasis on her sexuality, since she doesn't know it until she met her crush)

I actually have a lot of ideas for small comics of her. She'll mostly be interacting with the side characters and not the main cast as much.

Oh, and her ACTUAL quirk (instead of the delusional one she says she has) is called "bloodroot," which enables her to control the blood in another person's body, as long as she puts her own in theirs. Like a seed that slowly grows. the more blood she puts in, the longer she can control a person(or multiple people). If the person doesn't notice the blood getting in their bloodstream, they may even be oblivious to the whole thing completely, until she activates it.

The parents of the Toga family are both in the medical field because of their blood quirk, saving lives. That's what she originally wanted to do, before her canon event hit her and made her a chuunibyou hero that can ALSO save lives. She doesn't interact with Himiko that much, since Himiko was mostly shunned in her family. Instead, she interacted with her younger sister a lot more, and they used to play around together. The oldest sibling is a brother that was already in college when she was born and doesn't talk to her much.

Chuuya's eyes fluttered open, greeted by a world drenched in shadows and moonlight. Disoriented and groggy, he pushed himself up from the cold, hard ground. A throbbing ache radiated through his body as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

Then, as the fog of sleep lifted, the memories came crashing back—Dazai.

With a gasp, Chuuya turned his head to the side, and there, lying motionless on the ground beside him, was Dazai. His once-pale face was now ghostly white, his eyes closed, and his clothing stained with blood. Chuuya's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the sight.

"Dazai?" Chuuya's voice was barely a whisper as he reached out to touch his partner's cold cheek. There was no response, and fear clawed at Chuuya's chest. He gently shook Dazai, but Dazai remained unresponsive.

"Hey. This isn't funny." Chuuya warned, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Get up." He shook Dazai again.

He couldn't be dead. This stupid bastard was the most unkillable person he knew. He can't even kill himseld, so why would death come for him so suddenly like this? It's just one of Dazai's pranks, right?

The dumb pranks that Chuuya hated. He hated them, but with them gone like this, he somehow missed them.

That's when he broke.

Dazai's dead because you aren't

Tears welled up in Chuuya's eyes as he cradled Dazai's lifeless body. He had always known that Dazai was suicidal, but he had never expected this. Dazai had sacrificed himself for Chuuya, and now he was gone.

"Dazai, you idiot," Chuuya whispered, his voice trembling. He couldn't believe that the man who had infuriated him, challenged him, and somehow become an irreplaceable part of his life was now gone. "Why did you save me?"

No answer.

None of this is canon

Once upon a moonlit evening, the Guild's grand ballroom hosted by Fitzgerald was filled with dozens of people from all different factions attending. The air was thick with the fragrance of blooming roses, and the sound of classical music filled the ears of the attendees, who were chattering about.

So, all in all, a horrible room to be in for an anxiety stricken introvert who's few acquaintances have left him for his inevitable doom.

Edgar Allan poe stood amongst the crowd, surveying all those who've passed by, yet still unable to say anything.

He was left alone by the other guild members once again.

It had been months since the passing of his dear friend and fellow rival, Ranpo Edogawa. The loss still weighed heavily on Poe's heart, constantly yearning for even a glimpse of the enigmatic genius once more. Of course, like a rival would. Or... is it?

Does he really need to think of Ranpo like this anymore? With Ranpo's death, shouldn't that spark a change in his view of him, if he truly cared for the detective?

But when all is said and done, this view of Ranpo is one of the only things he's had to remember Ranpo by. He can't just let it go.

As the long night wore on, Poe, in his painstakingly trapped thoughts with no way out of the situation, found himself drawn to the rhythmic melodies of a waltz. Its haunting tune seemed to echo the ache within his soul. He followed the sound and discovered a grand dance floor, couples twirling and spinning in perfect harmony.

Then, he saw it.

Amidst the twirling figures, Poe's heart skipped a beat. There, standing in all his ethereal glory, was Ranpo Edogawa. The disbelief and joy intermingled in Poe's eyes as he stepped closer, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing.

"Ranpo?" Poe whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and longing.

It couldn't be, right?

Ranpo turned towards him, his eyes alight with mischief and a spark that could not be extinguished. The same spark that only Ranpo's eyes could give off. The same spark that Poe always enjoyed witnessing in Ranpo's presence. A sly smile crept across his face, and he extended his hand towards Poe.

"Would you care to dance?"

-

The two of them glided onto the dance floor, and yet Poe couldn't help but notice the perplexed stares from the other guests. They whispered to each other, their eyes wide with astonishment. It was as if Poe was moving across the floor alone, while Ranpo's invisible presence guided him with grace.

"Everyone's looking at us," The timid writer whispered, conscious of himself and his partner.

"What? Oh come on; you know that if it's anyone they're staring at, it would be me, of course! Not only am I a great detective, but I'm also a great dancer, dontcha think?"

Poe couldn't help but feel the corners of his mouth lift into a grin at that response, easing him back to dancing.

That response was so... Ranpo.

And it was perfect.

As Poe and Ranpo twirled and spun, Poe gradually forgot about all of the eys on him, their movements seamless and fluid. They ignored the murmurs and the bewildered gazes, focusing only on the dance that bound them together.

Poe marveled at how alive the Ranpo in front of him seemed to be. His breath, his hands, and his smile all felt so real that he all but forgot about the prying eyes, dancing in a trance with his delusion.

Though the music was classical, they danced in a fevor that was a far cry from a typical, classical one.

spoilers to chapter 109

this aint canon

"Come on, Slug. I know i make it look easy, but..." Dazai held back at wincing in pain when he said those words. "It does hurt."

His gaze remained fixed on the gun that Chuuya pressed against his forehead. Despite all that happened, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Can't you make it easier for me?"

Dazai was no stranger to this battle between agony and composure. Years of practice had honed his ability to mask his suffering, to shroud the torment beneath a veneer of normalcy. As he stood there, a masterful illusion of ease, the pain beneath his bandages paled in comparison to the searing fire that engulfed his leg and shoulder.

But seething agony from the bullet lodged in Dazai's shoulder was a relentless, burning torment that pulsed with every heartbeat. It felt as if a scorching metal claw had sunk deep into his flesh, refusing to let go. The pain radiated outward from the point of impact, a fiery web of suffering that spread through his nerves like a malevolent wildfire.

His broken leg throbbed with a dull ache that seemed to pulse in time with the rhythm of his heartbeat. The fracture screamed out in protest, even as he layed against the wall, it offered him no support from the overwhelming pain.

He willed his mind to distance itself from the relentless pain that gnawed at his body. With each raspy breath, he adeptly sidestepped the urge to draw in too deeply. He mentally detached himself from the physical sensations, instead channeling his concentration solely into his words. His practiced smile held firm, concealing the turmoil that raged within. In this moment, he was a master of his own performance, adapting agony to artifice.

"Searching for death my whole life, providence finally smiles upon me now. Although being in such pain wasn't part of the plan, I'll grant you the honor of killing me." He was barely gasping out the words now, although an air of nonchalance was still swept through his voice.

He closed his eyes with a defeated and serene smile, hoping that death will take him, as he always does.

Bang

And as always, it's never given to him.

Instead, when he opened his eyes, he saw that second bullet was fired to the now-wrecked cameras Fyodor was using to watch them.

He didn't know whether the sigh he let out was of relief, dissapointment, or betrayal. Probably just annoyance of the future headache he's going to be dealing with.

Of course, he knew this was what the outcome is, but-

Ranpo lazily strolls around the festival, devouring the food he bought from the stalls, savoring each bite. A frantic Poe clung to him, closely behind, as if he were afraid Ranpo would vanish as soon as his eyes were off him.

At that moment in the festival, Poe found comfort in the presence of Ranpo, the only person he knew. Large gatherings always made Poe feel like an outsider, so he naturally stuck close to anyone he was familiar with. Additionally, Karl had taken off with Poe's phone and wallet, leaving him feeling completely stranded in the midst of a sea of people, which only heightened his attachment to Ranpo.

Through his long strands of hair, he noticed two glistening, bright red candy apples with glossy caramel coating being held a few inches before his face. Eyes following the hand which held it, Poe's gaze reached the face of his rival's, recognizing the apples as the ones his rival was holding in his hand earlier. During the gesture, Rnapo simultaneously continued to rip off cotton candy with his mouth in another hand.

Among the cacophony of chattering voices in the crowd, Ranpo's words rang clear and distinct, emphasizing, "You can only take one, kay?"

Poe was a little suprised by the unexpected gesture. While he was well aware that Ranpo could easily perceive his profound anxiety, it was the mere act of Ranpo offering comfort that astonished him.

"Y-you're actually willing to share one of your sweets with me?!" Poe couldn't believe it. He knew how much Ranpo adored those treats; they were like his prized possessions. Sometimes, Poe even wondered if those sweets were some sort of life essence injected into Ranpo's veins for him to continue living. So, this gesture of offering a candy apple meant more than just a simple treat; it was a sign that Ranpo valued them and, morever, he cares.

And Ranpo knew it as well. He may care, but he has a hard time showing any sort of affection outwardly. It meant Ranpo intended it to be a sign in his own way, and Poe solved this puzzle as soon as it was found. And Poe was fairly elated on any confirmation of Ranpo's love.

Of course, this is all in the sense of rivalry love.

"Can't you see I'm doing it right now?" Ranpo prodded the apples closer to Poe, snapping him back from his thoughts. "So open up-! Say aaaa"

In a panic, Poe hastily reacted, swiftly parting his lips and taking a quick bite of the apple closest to his face.

As Poe took the first bite, a delectable flavor of caramel enveloped his taste buds, complemented by the crisp and succulent fruit beneath. The irresistible sweetness compelled him to go in for another bite.

With every bite into the apple, the intimidating crowd around him faded to insignificance. It was as if the detective's gesture held the power to solve anything. The sweet indulgence became a fleeting escape from reality, and Poe was captivated by the enchanting flavors and the unexpected solace it brought.

Well, it was as expected of the greatest detective in the world, after all.

Ranpo was observant, childish, and sweet.