𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍│[M!Reader x Highschool DxD - Jeanne D'arc/ Jalter]

-[S.1]-[C.7]-> [Walk With the Abyss]

  [Y/N] - Your Name
[M/N] - Middle Name
[L/N] - Last Name
I
["Talking"]
["SCREAMING"]
["Whispering"]
["Thinking"]

I'm just saying...

Both series cool in their own ways, but personally I prefer OPM. And it's not even because of the characters, it's just Murata's art-style that really sells the thing. That is, of course, one of the reasons, the main one being that I love how serious it is at times. Sure we have comical relief with my man Saitama, but he also works as a great character that isn't... Well, comical relief only. I mean, just take a look at Boros.

I like both series in their own ways, but once more, OPM takes the W for me. It might just be me, but the characters are much cooler. I mean, sure, I love (most of) Class 1-A, and we have Mirko in MHA. She's great, just like MHA itself. But once more, we have some great MHA characters like Tatsumaki, Boros, Garou, Fubuki, and hell, even Sonic is an awesome character in his own way. The villains, too, are also so cool.

And I feel like Genos and Jack are quite close.

None of them can get a single victory lately, but still remain one of my top-favorite characters from their respective series, and in general, all of midia. I really like their abilities, with Genos being a fucking cyborg and Jack just going around biting shit. They're both simple, but done in ways that really just sell how great they are. Eh, I'm rambling again. Point is, MHA is cool. OPM's cool. But I prefer OPM cause it's serious.

But anyway, let's roll!

<<<<<< I >[---]< I >>>>>>

He still wasn't used to how fancy this place is.

Be it the actual, original painting of the Mona Lisa just sitting in there, or the golden interior. Sure, everything around, and even to protect the masterpiece were also golden, but something always managed to catch his attention. He probably would never get used to the fact that, outside this room where the floors and walls are all also seemingly made out of pure gold was all the boring, metallic door interiors.

Still, sitting against the milky-white sofa with a leg crossed over the other, his sunglasses still placed against his face, and his cigarette hanging by his lips, Y/N hummed. He had a sketchbook in his right hand, and a pencil on the left one as he calmly spun it around. Slowly, bit by bit, that drawing of his slowly came to be, but he wasn't in a hurry, and neither was the figure that stood on the other side of the room.