blushspatula

[blushspatula]

Another art from these guys.

I used Ohuhu and Copic markers. Also for the last details, I used some ENMY acrylic markers.

Art by: BlushSpatula.

[blushspatula]

Fast and experimental sketch of Tenna my beloved.

Art by: BlushSpatula

[blushspatula]

Pierrot, my love, my dove, my all. I love him and I love you @nekoboydreams for creating this fictional character who lives in my head without paying rent.

Art created with Ohuhu and Copic alcohol markers. Also some touch-ups with ENMY and Posca acrylic markers.

Art by: BlushSpatula.

[blushspatula]

Ooh! I love anxiety! You do remember Shin fighting Boo, right? He's definitely traumatized physically and mentally, he's got phantom pains, and pain in his head from possible trauma (brain injury?). He's got panic attacks, emotional trauma and flashbacks. I'm not sure any divine therapy will help him.

Would Sheen tell his problems to his friend the Human? And how would Zamasu handle it? (he stupidly watches as the kaioshin of another universe probably has a panic attack and Mortal human tries to calm him down)

I think Shin would tell to the human, but only after being very close friends for a long time. I can definitely see him crying on the human's shoulder as he expresses his pain in words that can barely be uttered. After the death of his companions, he's left alone as the Kaioshin who has to manage his universe. He's unprepared and has to live up to everyone's expectations, which is a huge weight on his shoulders. He feels very useless. Still, after that moment of vulnerability, he'll be very grateful, but he's too shy to ask human to listen to him again. As for Zamasu, well, he's probably already familiar with Shin's trauma, but he'll feel extremely uncomfortable if he sees Shin having his panic attack, so he'll seek out the human and leave him to calm him down. Zamasu doesn't know how to deal with the discomfort this situation causes him, but he'll definitely feel bad for Shin.

[blushspatula]

THE STICK!!!!

https://x.com/DudespostingWs/status/1891906379008393491

HOLLY MOLLY

[blushspatula]

Lmao Breaking the brains of kaioshin (if human is already familiar with angels and hakaishin) with the question “can a Transformer Unicron become a hakaishin, If he's a planet-eater”

Don't blow their minds with so many questions. Maybe once they understand a bit of Transformers lore, there's a chance you'll be banned for a while. How are you going to compare a fictional character to a Hakaishin? lol

As a person who is a super fan of Transformers, I would definitely ask that and I won't be ashamed to do so lol.

[blushspatula]

[blushspatula]

It's TV time!!!

The complete drawings below!

Drawing technique used: For the character Tenna, I used Ohuhu and Copic alcohol markers; for the background, I used ENMY, Artxx, and Posca acrylic markers.

PD: Now Tenna is my comfort character. I luv u Tenna.

Art by: BlushSpatula.

[blushspatula]

someone needs to take capcut away from me

[blushspatula]

Ñam ñam

[blushspatula]

Ep 3 out on Youtube in 2 days...

[blushspatula]

That one meme going around on Twitter

[blushspatula]

Am I late for this trend? :b

[blushspatula]

Paper Mirrors

Summary:

We all know that Zamasu doesn’t have a good opinion of mortals, so what would happen if a human—one he himself dreamed of—became obsessed with them, dedicating fanfics and drawings to them?

Tags: Dragon ball Super, Zamasu, x reader.

Subtags: Zamasu is a jerk; Zamasu suffering; It is a personal work, although it can be considered as "x reader"; reader is gender neutral; purely platonic relationship, although if you want, it can be romantic.

A/N: At the end of the chapter.

Chapter 1 .

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter4.

Chapter 5 (You're here!).

Chapter 5: Two Hearts in Sync.

Days had passed, and although Zamasu would never admit it—not even to himself—there was something profoundly transformative about the act of illustrating and writing about the human he had met in his dreams. His once solitary days, previously dedicated solely to philosophical contemplation and refining his skills, were now filled with creativity. The accumulated sheets of paper had become a silent testament to his inner struggle and obsession.

But that day was different. There was something in the air that filled him with a strange nervousness. Perhaps it was the way the tea, which usually calmed him, seemed to have no effect, or how his brush trembled slightly when he tried to pick it up. He sat before the blank sheet of paper, ready to continue his work, but for the first time in weeks, he didn't know what to write or draw. He closed his eyes, seeking the clarity he had found so many times before, and instead, the image of the human invaded his mind with devastating vividness.

It was as if he could see them clearly, not only in his dreams but also in the moments when his mind wandered. He recalled the expressions he had captured in his drawings—the strength in their eyes, the melancholy hidden behind a faint smile. That night, his heart, usually firm and unshaken, beat with a rhythm he could not control. Zamasu did not understand what he was feeling, but it was so powerful that he could no longer ignore it.

At the same time, elsewhere, the human also found themself restless. They had spent weeks writing and drawing, immersed in a project they didn't fully understand but that helped them stay afloat. As their story progressed, they had discovered something curious: the more they wrote about Zamasu, the more they felt they understood him. Though he was merely a fictional character in their mind, the emotions and thoughts they poured onto the page felt real. And that night, as they reread their writings, they felt a strange pull in their heart, as if something—or someone—was calling to them from far away.

Back in the Sacred Realm, Zamasu finally picked up the brush. But this time, he did not draw. Instead, he wrote with an intensity that almost frightened him. The words flowed effortlessly, as if dictated by a force greater than himself. He wrote about the inexplicable connection between a god and a human—a bond that went beyond rational understanding. Every word was infused with raw, contradictory, yet deeply sincere emotions.

When he finished, he set the page aside and gazed at the golden sky through his window. For the first time in his existence, he felt that something inside him had changed irrevocably. It was no longer just contempt that he felt toward humans—there was something more. Something he could not name, yet it filled the emptiness he had felt for centuries.

Far away, the human also looked up at the night sky. Though they did not know why, they felt a strange sense of peace, as if in that moment—though separated by worlds and dimensions—their hearts had beaten as one.

---

A/N:

This last chapter was a little shorter, but I didn't have to write any more.

I got a little emotional, lol.

[blushspatula]

Paper Mirrors

Summary:

We all know that Zamasu doesn’t have a good opinion of mortals, so what would happen if a human—one he himself dreamed of—became obsessed with them, dedicating fanfics and drawings to them?

Tags: Dragon ball Super, Zamasu, x reader.

Subtags: Zamasu is a jerk; Zamasu suffering; It is a personal work, although it can be considered as "x reader"; reader is gender neutral; purely platonic relationship, although if you want, it can be romantic.

A/N: At the end of the chapter.

Chapter 1 .

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter4 (You're here!).

Chapter 5.

Chapter 4: The Struggle to Illustrate.

He began drawing, filled with excitement, only to realize that his drawing was mediocre. Frustrated, he threw it away.

Zamasu had spent several days in a state of restlessness he couldn't fully understand. An absurd idea had begun to take root in his mind: attempting to illustrate the repugnant mortal who had invaded his dreams and writings. Yet, as if possessed by a force beyond his control, he found himself gathering materials—thick sheets of paper for drawing, brushes, inks, and even some old books on art and biology that he had found in the temple's library, where he and his master resided.

The first attempt was an absolute disaster. Although Zamasu was a perfectionist in all his tasks, he had never imagined that drawing would be as difficult as understanding the mentality of the inferior mortals of his world. He discovered that the art of illustration required patience and skill he had not anticipated. His brushstrokes were clumsy, unable to capture the details that his mind remembered with almost painful clarity. His drawings—or rather, his scribbles—were mediocre. The expression on the face he attempted to draw was either blank or disproportionate, and every mistake filled him with a frustration he was not accustomed to feeling.

"Why am I even doing this!?" he exclaimed, throwing one of the sheets to the floor in disgust. "A complete waste of energy and time..."

Despite this, he didn't stop. Each day, after completing his tasks, he returned to his desk and picked up the brush once more. The accumulation of discarded papers began to form a pile beside his table and on the floor—a silent testament to his almost painful stubbornness.

As weeks passed, Zamasu began studying books he had never before considered useful—treatises on human anatomy, guides on facial proportions, and even painting manuals written by mortals. Though he despised resorting to knowledge created by inferior beings, he could not deny that these works had a certain practical value. The more he learned, the more obsessed he became.

His behavior did not go unnoticed by Gowasu, who watched with concern as his usually calm and methodical apprentice began displaying signs of inner tension. He had noticed that Zamasu was spending less time perfecting his attacks during training or observing mortals, and more time locked away in his room. One afternoon, seeing him emerge with faint dark circles under his eyes and a weary expression, Gowasu couldn't help but ask:

"Zamasu, are you alright? You've been acting... different these past few months."

Zamasu stopped walking and turned fully to face his master. "I am fine, Master Gowasu. I have simply been reflecting on... philosophical matters." His tone was firm, but there was a hint of unease that did not escape the elder Kaioshin's notice. However, Gowasu chose not to press the matter, trusting that his apprentice would eventually share what troubled him.

That evening, Zamasu once again sat at his desk. The paper was blank, and the brush rested in his hand. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind. He closed his eyes and allowed the image of the human to surface in his thoughts—the details of their face, the curve of their smile, the way their eyes seemed to reflect a mixture of sadness and kindness.

He began to draw. His initial strokes were slow and careful, each line traced with an almost reverent concentration. As he progressed, he lost track of time. The usual frustration was still present, but so was something else—a silent determination pushing him forward. He made mistakes, but instead of stopping, he corrected them. The pile of discarded papers grew beside him, but so did his skill.

Finally, after hours of work, Zamasu stopped. He examined the parchment before him, his eyes analyzing every detail. It was not perfect—not as he would have wanted—but for the first time, he had created something that closely resembled what he had envisioned. The human's face was there, captured with surprising precision. The eyes had a depth that made them seem almost alive, and the expression reflected that mix of emotions he had come to know so well.

Zamasu set the brush aside and leaned back in his seat, feeling a strange blend of relief and satisfaction. It had been an arduous journey, but for the first time in weeks, he felt he had achieved something tangible. As he observed the portrait, a faint smile curved his lips. Not because he was satisfied with the result, but because, for a brief moment, he had managed to capture something that, though fleeting, had meant something to him.

---

A/N:

I laughed a lot imagining Zamasu suffering.

[blushspatula]

Paper Mirrors

Summary:

We all know that Zamasu doesn’t have a good opinion of mortals, so what would happen if a human—one he himself dreamed of—became obsessed with them, dedicating fanfics and drawings to them?

Tags: Dragon ball Super, Zamasu, x reader.

Subtags: Zamasu is a jerk; Zamasu suffering; It is a personal work, although it can be considered as "x reader"; reader is gender neutral; purely platonic relationship, although if you want, it can be romantic.

A/N: At the end of the chapter.

Chapter 1 .

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3 (You're here!).

Chapter4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 3: Peace and Uncertainty.

Zamasu woke up with an unusual sense of calm. The previous day had been a whirlwind of frustration and anger, but that morning, his mind was clear. As he prepared tea for himself and his master, he noticed that, for the first time in days, his hands moved with their usual grace and precision. The fragrance of the tea filled the room, and with the first sip, the taste was perfect—balanced, a symphony of notes that seemed to reflect his regained serenity.

"Perhaps writing had some value," he thought reluctantly, though he immediately shook his head, as if denying the idea could shield him from any sign of weakness.

However, as the day progressed, a lingering curiosity took hold of him. The words he had written the night before still echoed in his mind—not because of their contemptuous content, but because of the sense of relief that the act of writing had provided. That same day, after his usual routine, Zamasu once again found himself facing a blank page. This time, the brush moved almost on its own.

This time, he wrote about tea. Every step—from selecting the leaves to the exact moment of infusion—unfolded on the paper with an almost poetic precision. As he wrote, his thoughts drifted back to the human who had invaded his dreams. As much as he hated to admit it, something about that creature intrigued him. Perhaps because, in his dreams, they had also shown an appreciation for the art of tea—or at least pretended to.

This time, his words were not aggressive nor filled with disdain. Instead, he described a fictional exchange, a debate about the best method to prepare tea.

"This is pathetic," he muttered to himself as he read what he had written. Yet, by the time he finished, a faint smile curved his lips. There was something strangely satisfying about the text, though he would never admit it out loud. His day was splendid.

Days turned into weeks, and Zamasu's writing became a ritual, almost as essential as tea and training. Every day, after fulfilling his duties as the apprentice of the elder Supreme Kai, he would fill small scrolls with fragments of imaginary interactions with the mortal. At first, his words were laced with sarcasm and superiority, but gradually, the narrative evolved.

In his writings, they began to challenge him in unexpected ways—not just with words, but with actions that resonated within his own logic. He realized he was starting to enjoy writing these imaginary encounters.

One day, as he reread one of his texts, Zamasu noticed something shocking: in his writing, he had allowed them to win one of their debates. His ego was wounded! He had even described a scene where they observed other mortals through an orb, like two curious students, as equals.

That realization froze him. How had he reached this point? A god, sharing something with a being as despicable as a human. And yet, he couldn't deny that there was something strangely comforting about the idea.

The writing continued, and with each story, the bond between him—a god—and the nameless mortal deepened. Though it was a private and deeply personal exercise, Zamasu began to notice that something within him was changing as well.

For centuries, he had viewed humans as the embodiment of corruption. But now, through his writings, he was beginning to glimpse something more complex. Perhaps his ideologies were not entirely true?

"It's just a fantasy," he told himself each time he noticed this shift. But the words on the paper told a different story—one that, though not real, had begun to fill a void he hadn't known existed.

---

A/N:

I'm so sorry for the delay in uploading this post. I've had a lot of responsibilities pile up in my life, and I just didn't have much motivation to post anything.

[blushspatula]

Hi, it's been a while since I posted any drawings or writings. I'm letting you know that I hope to get back to my activity again. In any case, check out the Wukong version I love the most. I love this crazy, alcohol-loving and risk-taking guy.

Art by: blushspatula