u n s t o p p a b l e

a PRI multimuse ft. canon & oc characters' from naruto , haikyuu , supernatural , lads , mha and others soon to come !

[fireskein]

#ela . #32 . #virgo . #big back

an independent , private , and selective roleplay blog dedicated to long-form and story-driven roleplay ! i love building relationships that evolve naturally over time , whether they're platonic , familial , romantic , antagonistic , or somewhere in between ! i enjoy writing roleplays that bring in a new creation to characters' stories that feel lived in rather than rushed.

i currently reside in CST and am looking for a new job. replies vary based on inspiration , not preference. i'd prefer to write on discord , but i am open to still writing on tumblr if you are okay with me using the same chara side blog to reply to other partners. discord is only available after we've established interest in writing together.

writing → literate , novella , heavy emphasis on characterization , canon-divergent friendly , headcanon heavy , loves plotting between threads , character development over quick shipping

i adore conversations that spiral into worldbuilding , random headcanons , playlists , pinterest boards , late-night plotting , and all the little details that make a universe feel alive.

CURRENTLY SEEKING

writing partners 21+ for ( 1x1 , 1x2 , 2x2 ), long-term stories , canon/oc interactions , au plotting , slow burn , quick burn

slice of life , adventure , action , angst , found family , romance , comedy , sci fi , horror , supernatural , crime , nemesis' , collaboration !

friendships , enemies , rivals , mentorships , siblings , teammates , relunctant allies , complicated exes , soulmates , just to name a few.

SHIPPING

chemistry first. i'm open to exploring romance naturally , but i don't force ships. i enjoy letting those feelings and emotions develop through interactions and plotting. that being said , i'm open to same sex and hetero ships as well as polyamory between muses. but know nothing would be open in my poly ships , the muses i have that are polyamorous date for connection and long-term. everyone dates each other.

CONTENT

writer is not shy about writing violence , body horror , death , grief , trauma , mental health themes , horror , mature themes , romantic themes. the only things this writer will not get involved with are incest , animal abuse , domestic violence , sa/sv , snuff , pdfilia , toilet kink of any kind.

RULES

please do not godmod.

please communicate.

real life always comes first.

no pressure for rapid replies.

feel free to send asks or plotting ideas.

WISHLIST , just to get ideas flowin'

accidental roommates

rivals becoming friends

hurt/comfort

teammates learning sign language ( my tobio muse is deaf )

mystery plots

ghost stories

road trips

fake dating

apocalypse settings

time travel

whether we end up writing one thread or an entire series together , thank you for stopping by ! my inbox is always open if you'd like to plot , scream about our muses , or simply say hello !

WRITING SAMPLE 01 // WRITING SAMPLE 02

muses under the cut. i'm open to playing other muses that are not listed below. just ask me about it and i'll think about if i can write them well or not.

MARVEL ;

peter parker → 21

HAIKYUU ;

kageyama tobio → 26 , canon div bokuto koutarou → 28 kuroo tetsurou → 28 kyoutani kentarou → 27 daichi sawamura → 28 miya atsumu → 28 tsukishima kei → 26

NARUTO ;

yamanaka ino → 22 inuzuka kiba → 22 nara shikamaru → 23 uchiha itachi → 24 , canon div aburame shino → 23

SUPERNATURAL ;

dean winchester → 25

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE ;

valko → 26

MY HERO ACADEMIA ;

bakugou katsuki → 23 kirishima eijirou → 22

DANNY PHANTOM ;

danny fenton → 22 , canon div

[fireskein]

when you got an itch for a smut plot but no one to write said smut with??? a tragedy , truly.

something cc x cc from any of the following fandoms ; naruto , haikyuu , mha. crossovers / multiverses are welcome ! doubles are fine ! mxm preferred for this post in particular, though. we can keep it strictly smut or throw plot in there with it too ; i personally am a fan of both.i have muses under the read more on my pinned + other imp info (:

please like if interested or shoot me a dm ! i write on discord and tumblr via side blogs.

[fireskein]

i have bios i need to mock up and fill out , thank you for patience uwu

[fireskein]

⸻ another tuesday.

a danny phantom drabble.

the BETWEEN is never quiet.

people think it is.

they step through the veil expecting silence ; expecting some vast , empty wasteland where the dead drift aimlessly through eternity. instead they're greeted by whispers , distant conversations. laughter carried by a wind that doesn't exist. footsteps echoeing through streets that have long since forgotten who built them.

it's never one sound━━it's thousands. all at once.

〈 danny has learned not to listen too closely. 〉

he lands atop the fractured remains of what might've once been a cathedral ; boots scraping weathered stone as his gaze sweeps across the endless skyline. ruins stretch farther than he can comfortably follow , disappearing beneath dense ribbons of ectoplasmic fog that weave between collapsed towers and broken archways. somewhere beyond them , something sings.

〈 beautiful. haunting. lonely. 〉

he pretends not to hear it.

" . . . you know , " his voice carries easily across the open air , " this whole mysterious summoning thing is starting to lose its charm. " a summons they won't let him have , mind you.

nothing answers. at first.

then━━the temperature shifts.

not colder. heavier. the sort of pressure that settles over his shoulders and presses insistently against his lungs ; subtle enough that someone else might mistake it for nerves. danny knows better.

they're here.

emerald eyes lift.

one by one , the ancients emerge from the haze.

they never arrive dramatically. they simply . . . become.

a silhouette where there hadn't been one before. another standing beneath the broken ribs of an ancient doorway. a third seated atop crumbling stone as though they'd occupied that space for centuries and he'd only just now noticed.

they regard him with the same impossible patience they always do.

" daniel. "

the title reverberates more than it's spoken ; settling somewhere deep between bone and ghost alike.

he exhales.

" . . . hi. "no one returns the greeting. figures.

one steps forward. robes stir around their ankles despite the stillness surrounding them. ancient embroidery catching pale green light that has no discernible source. age clings to them strangely. not through wrinkles or weary posture , but through presence alone ; something vast enough that standing in front of them feels a little like standing beneath the sky.

" the throne remains vacant. "

there it is , right on schedule.

danny pinches the bridge of his nose , a humorless breath escaping somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

" . . . you guys really don't know what 'no' means , huh? "

another ancient speaks , " we know relunctance. "

" it's not relunctance━ " his response arrives a touch quicker than he'd intended. firm. certain. " . . . it's an answer. "

silence gathers between them. it never feels awkward here. only expectant. like the BETWEEN itself is waiting to see which way the conversation bends.

the eldest inclines their head. " you continue to defend this realm. "

" yeah. "

" you protect its people. "

" . . . when i can. "

" you have refused dominion. "

danny's jaw sets , " . . . because i don't want it. "

their eyes never leave him. " why? "

the question hangs there. simple. honest. dangerous.

his gaze slips beyond them instead ; toward the city stretching endlessly beneath fractured skies. ghosts wander those streets even now. some laugh. some cry. others repeat the same conversations they've repeated for decades because somewhere along the line memory surrendered to obsession. he'd met mothers still waiting for children who'd long since grown old. soldiers still marching towards wars that ended eras ago. lovers forever , expecting someone to return home.

this place doesn't need a KING.

it needs help. it needs someone willing to kneel before frightened ghosts instead of towering over them━━someone willing to remind them of their names━━someone willing to sit beside them until the panic passes━━someone willing to leave afterward.

" . . . because , " danny says at last , quieter now. " i know what happens when people start believing they're the only ones who can fix everything. "

his fingers curl loosely at his sides.

" i've watched it happen. "

vlad.pariah.even his parents , in their own way.

good intentions have always had a funny way of curdling into something unrecognizable. he won't become another monument the living whisper about. he won't become another ruler ghost obey because they're afraid not to.

" . . i was fourteen when all of this started. " his laugh is soft. tired. " i'm twenty-two now and i'm still making this up as i go. "

something almost fond stirs across the features of the eldest ancient. " yet you continue. "

" . . . someone has to. "

" precisely. "

danny's shoulders sink. " . . . that wasn't the point━ "

" we know. "

another silence unfurls between them ; gentler this time. not victory. not defeat. simply understanding. the eldest turns away first.

robes drift behind them as they begin the slow walk back into the fog.

" the throne will wait. "

" . . . yeah , " danny mutters , watching their silhouettes dissolve into pale green mist. " it's gonna be waiting a long time. " no argument follows. no warning. no threat. only the distant chorus of forgotten voices weaving once more through broken streets as the between exhales around him.

danny remains where he is for another minute ; hands tucked into the pockets of his suit as emerald eyes wander the city below. somewhere , a little girl laughs. somewhere else , someone calls for a wife who stopped exisiting decades ago.

and someone farther still . . .

someone is frightened. he pushes away from the broken stone with a quiet sigh.

the throne can wait━━there are ghosts who need him more.

[fireskein]

⸻ blue-grey before sunrise

a kageyama tobio drabble

the alarm never startles him awake.

instead , the vibration against his wrist oscillates softly , pulsing until consciousness catches up with it. his eyes open long before sunrise ; the apartment still wrapped in a blue-grey darkness. for a moment he simply lays there , staring at the ceiling while the city outside slowly begins remembering itself.

routine has always been easier than decision making.

coffee brews while he stretches in the kitchen , shoulders still stiff from yesterday’s practice. breakfast is simple— rice he’d prepared two nights before , grilled salmon , miso soup reheated on the stove. his phone rests beside the bowl , subtitles flickering across the morning news while he eats. he isn’t really watching. it’s background information more than entertainment , something to glance at between bites.

the engineering lecture waiting for him has already been downloaded.

he watches twenty minutes before leaving for practice , notebook open beside him. equations slowly fill the page in neat handwriting ; each line carefully rewritten until it makes sense. the mathematics don’t frustrate him nearly as much as people assume they would. if anything , they’re comforting. there is always a reason an answer is correct. if something doesn’t work , there is a variable he hasn’t accounted for yet.

volleyball isn’t so different.

the gym smells exactly as it always has.

rubber flooring. resin. sweat. the faint chemical scent left behind after yesterday’s floor cleaner.

someone waves from across the court before practice officially begins. he lifts a hand back in greeting without breaking stride.

conversations move around him in fragments he no longer notices himself missing. faces matter more than voices now. a raised eyebrow. a grin. someone muttering under their breath while looking directly at him. years ago , learning to follow lips had required concentration. now it simply. . . happens.

people outside the team sometimes apologize for forgetting.

his teammates rarely do.

not because they care less.

because after so many years , they instinctively wait until he’s looking before speaking. someone taps against the bench beside him of calling his name. another walks into his field of vision before asking a question. no one discusses it anymore. they simply communicate the way they always have.

sometimes he wonders if they even realize they’re doing it.

practice passes the way it always does. one toss becomes a hundred. a hundred becomes several thousand. there is always something to improve.

a hitter’s timing.

the angle of his shoulders before release.

whether the blocker shifted their weight half a second too early.

volleyball has never stopped being a puzzle.

only the pieces have become smaller.

by the time he returns home , the apartment is quiet.

not silent.

quiet. 

there is a difference.

shoes come off by the door. laundry starts before he can forget. rice goes into the cooker while vegetables are chopped almost absentmindedly. the rhythm of cooking has become familiar over the years , less because he enjoys it and more because repetition eventually turns necessity into comfort.

dinner is eaten at the kitchen counter while reading through discussion posts for class.

someone has misunderstood a problem involving force distribution.

he types out an explanation.

deletes half of it.

writes it again , shorter this time.

satisfied , he submits it and closes the laptop.

later , youtube recommends a biomechanic lecture analyzing the relationship between jump mechanics and force generation.

he tells himself he’ll watch ten minutes.

fourty-seven minutes disappear.

the presenter overlays skeletal tracking against footage of professional athletes , slowing movements down frame by frame until every shift in balance becomes visible.

without realizing it , tobio pauses the video.

rewinds. 

plays it again.

there. 

the setter’s hips open a fraction earlier than he’d expected.

interesting. 

he makes a note to try it tomorrow.

the apartment grows darker around him.

dishes dry on the rack beside the sink.

his textbooks remain open on the table , waiting for another evening.

outside , headlights slide quietly across the ceiling before disappearing again. before bed , he messages miwa.

she replies almost immediately with a picture of dinner and a reminder not to skip his own meals. tobio sends back a thumbs up. a minute later , another message.

that doesn’t answer my question.

a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he sends a picture of the empty dishes in the sink.

this time she believes him.

the watch vibrates again the following morning.

another practice. another lecture. another match waiting somewhere down the schedule.

another chance to become just a little better than he had been yesterday.

for now— 

that’s enough.