|| 123 || Ninomae Ina'nis (REVAMPED) 🐙 H/F

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Art by sky_minesky on twitter

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Ninomae Ina'nis - Romantic Headcanons

Word Count → 2478 Words

Warnings/Notes → Because the first batch of general headcanons I wrote for Myth is about two years old and is so unbelievably cringe and out of character to me that I found myself writing this without even knowing.

(FYI, I'm not counting this toward the character chapter limit, so Ina still has a few more chapters to go before I prevent her from taking over this book.)

Ninyomae Inya-nyis.

I HAVE RETURNED - THY GREMLIN IS BACK TO DELIVER FANFICS TO YOUR DOORSTEP OR WHATEVER

PART 1 OF AUTHOR RETURN CHAPTER DUMP

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🐙 First date 🐙


You had a few ideas on what a first date could entail. Perhaps you'd meet at a restaurant? Grab something to eat and walk around? Maybe you'd go to the movies and see what's good, or maybe you'd go steal ducks from the park. Those were all completely plausible ideas, but you hadn't entirely taken into account who you were going on this first date with.

Ninomae Ina'nis - High Priestess to the Ancient Ones and leader of the Tentacult. The kind've girl who followed the saying 'we are seiso if we say so' somewhat loosely, but was adorable enough to get away with being un-seiso nine out of ten times. Her short stature, round cheeks, short-cut hair and wiggly little ear flaps were enough to make one forget about the darkness that lurked inside her, both literally and figuratively.

But...

A Ouija board?

That was what greeted you when Ina opened the door with a little fancy flourish of one of her tentacles.

Your mind yelled at you - 'Like hell I wanna have a demon haunting me or some shit. Haven't you seen a horror movie, like, at all?', but...

That smile.

"Good morning, afternoon, evening!" She reflexively greeted you. That just made you smile.

Ina was practically beaming at you, her face half hidden behind the ancient box so that only her dark eyes stared at you, made only darker by the eyebags that made her look like a sleepy raccoon. And those tiny little flaps drooped to make her appear oh so innocent. Like a kitten who just knocked over a vase. She was so doing this on purpose.

"Demon time?" She asked hopefully. No words were spoken, but your shoulders slacked and Ina shuffled to the side to let you in.

You followed her into the basement of her house, the stairs creaking ominously beneath your feet. Normally, this would be sending off red flags in your brain, perhaps a siren or two and a big red banner with the word stop sprawled across it in big, bold letters, - But you'd known Ina for years, and, while yes, this was the same person who furiously wielded a crowbar behind the scenes whenever she deemed necessary, this was also the person who baked cookies for all her loyal little takodachis just to make their days brighter.

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