Tag: ocs

Iro Hana Headcanons

  • Because of the fact Grant replaced all the coffee with decaff and she absolutely cant stand that, Iro took to drinking tea and found that she likes it more than coffee. She still likes coffee though.
  • Iro finds all jokes hilarious in someway. Dad jokes? She’ll snort even though she doesn’t want to. Puns? She loves them. Iro just loves all kinds of jokes.
  • It wasn’t that she hated Grant when she first met him, it was the fact he was so…caring? Is that the word? I’m going with that so it doesn’t matter. It was the fact he was so caring combined with the fact she wasn’t used to something like that which to her lashing out and turning her back and running away. She’d probably still act like she hated him because that’s just how she is, but secretly she does care about him a lot. She almost cares about him like he’s her dad but she ain’t saying anything.

A Series of Disorganized Events (Part 4)

When you’re shopping for groceries, the last thing you expect to see is a piece of paper appear in a floating ball of hell fire. Unless your name is Maeve, apparently.

With an aggravated sigh of long suffering, the faerie plucked the paper from the air, dusted off the ash and looked at what her roommate had written.

‘Dear Maeve,

The silverware is alive! It tried to attack me! I have barricaded myself in the storage cupboard! Also, the figurines have come alive and are rebelling because they want equality or something. Send help!

Your demon roommate,

Diograsach’

“What has that idiot gone and done this time?” Maeve muttered to herself rhetorically, looking at the store in front of her. She sighed and turned on her heel, knowing that she would never hear the end of it if she didn’t get back there soon.

A Series of Disorganized Events (Part 3)

Díograsach

squinted suspiciously at the old doll house that was big enough to take up the entirety of a single table. They’d had it for years, though Maeve had never sold it. Not because no one wanted it but because she always said it wasn’t for sale. She never gave a reason why and he never asked.

However, the voices coming from said doll house probably meant he should have asked why she never sold the ugly looking thing.

“I think there’s someone in the doll house,” he told her when she walked out from the storage cupboard. He was mildly worried when he saw her face light up, that was never good.

“There’s only a few people I know who like that thing,” she said as she walked over to the doll house and opened it up.

Inside, spread throughout the house much like dolls would’ve been had there been any there, were several 6 inch men. They all had ginger hair and beards, and were dressed in tartan kilts.

Upon looking up at the faerie, a gruff chorus of welcomes rang out.

“Bin a while, hasnae it, bonnie Maeve?” A man with several braids in his beard said, walking up to her.

“Indeed it has, Hamish,” the green haired girl agreed, smiling down at him.