#((Too many characters to tag so. //explodes))

[zillychu]

I NEED Loop to be further tormented by finding out confessing to their party doesn't break their loops, and Siffrin wishes to see Loop again so hard he pops out of the favor tree so he gets to be Loop's guide

[astrolotte]

Since I saw someone post a similar question -

[not-kamenx]

Beyblade X Episode 39: The Greatest Blader

This episode was ONE heck of a ride that’s what I’m going to say (pretending like I’m not shaking in my boots right now)

Okay so you guys know when the episode starts, Robin says the title out loud, right? When he said it, it sounded lower and more… I can’t quite pin the feeling but, it was like a suspenseful sort of tone, if you get what I mean. I might be reading too much into this but I really liked how it made me just cling to the edge of my seat just ITCHING and waiting to see the battle

ALWAYS ALWAYS love to see family interactions and especially Bladers when they were tiny, LOOK AT BABY TITUS HE’S ADORABLE!!! I love that his launch form here implies he’s been keeping it until the present (because it’s the same in the present), he looks like a lion cub trying to be intimidating but not quite enough

And the way Quinn doesn’t hold back in her battles even if it’s against her own grandson, she’s making sure to teach him everything there is which is GAHHH it’s nice to see

Then…

I LOVED HOW THEY DID THIS. 100% SO CLEVER THIS IS AMAZING. X can mean a LOT of things, and here, it’s the variable in Quinn’s equation. She thought she would know the outcome, but it turns out X can be a lot of numbers… and in this case, numerous results and numerous X-treme Dashes. X can be ANYTHING. Jaxon is pretty much unpredictable and he doesn’t fit in Quinn’s equation because he’s X.

And when she started to realize Jaxon isn’t anything or anyone she’s seen before—

He just outright says “Tell me this Miss Quinn. Of the 9 that won against you… were any of them like me?” IN A SHAKY VOICE, BUT WITH THE WAY THE LINE IS SAID, YOU CAN TELL HE’S SMILING AND LO AND BEHOLD WE HAVE ANOTHER UNHINGED JAXON EXPRESSION!!! I kind of wish we had another unhinged laugh accompanying this, but I think the face was already too much 😭 JAXON WHY ARE YOU SMILING LIKE THAT I DROPPED MY PHONE WATCHING THIS EPISODE SEEING THIS

anyways Jaxon did win in the end with an X-treme Finish with ONE hell of a hit that freaked me out, I wish we had a more drawn out battle but I guess Jaxon was so hyped about battling her he forgot to tone it down (I do think he tries to battle people at the level he thinks they’d perform at sometimes so it’s fun for him. He still confuses me quite a bit…)

Special shout-out to Multi who hugged Robin on screen they’re adorable, I LOVE WHEN TEAM PERSONA CELEBRATES CUZ THEY ALWAYS HUG AND STUFF but seeing this made me smile wide. (In the volumes of the manga I’ve read so far, Multi isn’t as affectionate to Robin as she is with Jaxon instead. Studio took some creative freedom and I’m glad their dynamic is like this in the anime)

PACKUN WAS SO SALTY AT THEIR DEFEAT BUT QUINN GAVE HIM A TALKING TO AND I JUST CAN’T UNDERSTAND HOW HIS BRAIN WORKS, HE HATES THE MERE SIGHT OF ROBIN SMILING 😭 YOU CRUSHED HIM WASN’T THAT ENOUGH??? YOU MOCKED HIM AND INSULTED HIM AND NOW YOU’RE MAD SEEING HIM CELEBRATE WINNING WITH HIS TEAM? Packun is just. Man.

But before that, Quinn talked about how each of the Bladers she lost to were the same as Jaxon, “enjoying Blading openly and earnestly, giving everything they had. Though there was one exception.” And I am positive that this silhouette is Chrome there is no way it isn’t him. But what I’m REALLY picking at is how Quinn is talking about how the Bladers were the same as Jaxon. Except Chrome. Each Blader enjoyed Blading openly and earnestly. Except Chrome. I think that Chrome and the “X” in his heart— I think this is implying that Chrome wants to be like Jaxon. He wants to be the same as him. But someone like Quinn points out that Chrome won’t be and isn’t the same as Jaxon. He won’t be able to truly be like the “X” he’s chasing to be. I’m still confused about Chrome’s motives, but I’m thinking he wants Jaxon to come back and stay in Pendragon. Well now that I look at it, Sigrid was told by Chrome to leave Jaxon alone so I’m not so sure about that— he does seem focused on getting strong though, that’s for sure.

We saw Pendragon getting interviewed and I started laughing nervously because:

Chrome seems to have no interest in Team Persona being the next possible team to battle him and Sigrid. In the earlier episodes he was smiling and saying he was going to battle Jaxon for certain, but now he seems disinterested. I don’t think it’s a facade either, we saw him slipping with that during his match with the bot on live TV

Sigrid looks so annoyed by this. I DON’T KNOW WHY SHE IS BUT IT MADE ME LAUGH BECAUSE SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE JUST WANTS TO GO BACK TO HER ROOM AND RELAX BUT ALL THE REPORTERS ARE BLOCKING HER WAY OUT

anddddd

yes Blader Y is getting his own post I have much to say about him.

[keylimeguy]

oh yeah btw i got a print from one of the artists who helped design naven at a local convention last month. unrelatedly i am never going to be normal ever again

[medi-bee]

Gimme one of your oc refs. This is a threat 💥💥💥

um um ouhhhh. ruffles through my pockets. pulls out my wallet and shakes it. a single speck of lint falls out. ohhghh. here 👇

a demon wearing an angel’s pelt. it’s a shapeshifter so it can look however as long as the coat is incorporated in some way. the pelt can change colors and wings and such because that just how angels be i guess. they use it as a disguise to get into places like a teenager with a fake id at the club

[antihibikase-archive]

Blight / Blur Major Arcana Symbolisms

Blight / Ace of Wands / Knight of Swords (BW Arc, Dreamworld Arc, Floccesy Arc) :

0 - The Fool : The False King, Natural Harmonia Gropius

I - The Magician : The Archivist, Lenora Magnolia

II - The High Priestess : The Scholar of Truth, Bianca Alabaster

III - The Empress : The Analyst, Fennel Dreamer

IV - The Emperor : The Doctor, Nikolai Colress

V - The Hierophant : The Agent, Zinzolin Ryder

VI - The Lovers : The Eyes, Anthea and Concordia Harmonia Gropius

VII - The Chariot : The Warrior of Truth, Hilda Weiss

VIII - Strength : The Chroniclers, Ingo and Emmet Graystone

IX - The Hermit : The Lorekeeper, Alder Redwood

X - The Wheel of Fortune : Guidance, The Soldiers ( Drayden / Clay / Skyla / Brycen )

XI - Justice : Liberation, Team Plasma

XII - The Hanged Man : The Heart, Cheren Slater

XIII - Death : Idealized Truth, The Party of Truth

XIV - Temperance : The Prodigy, Amanita Dreamer

XV - The Devil : The False Prophet, Ghetsis Harmonia Gropius

XVI - The Tower : Fort of Ash, The Relic Castle

XVII - The Star : The Successor, Marshal Redwood

XVIII - The Moon : The Princess, Caitlin Bloomingdale

XIX - The Sun : The Heiress, Iris Chibana

XX - Judgement : Dragon of Flame, Reshiram

XXI - The World : The Hero of Truth, Hilbert Blackburn

Blur / Page of Cups / King of Pentacles (BW2 Arc, Abyssal Ruins Arc, Relic Castle Arc)

0 - The Fool : The Wavering Truth, Hilbert Blackburn

I - The Magician : The Counselor, Audrea Juniper

II - The High Priestess : The Scholar of Ideals, Rosa Whitefield

III - The Empress : The Heroine of Life and Death, Serena Cendrine

IV - The Emperor : The Hero of Life and Death, Calem Laflamme

V - The Hierophant : The Agent, Godfrey Rood

VI - The Lovers : The Eyes, Yancy Rosewood and Curtis Greenville

VII - The Chariot : The Warrior of Ideals, Hugh Obsidian

VIII - Strength : The Apprentices, The Striaton Triplets

IX - The Hermit : The Priest, Natural Harmonia Gropius

X - The Wheel of Fortune : Guidance, The Poets ( Burgh / Elesa / Roxie / Marlon )

XI - Justice : Subjugation, NEO Team Plasma

XII - The Hanged Man : The Revered Vessel, Cheren Slater

XIII - Death : Realized Ideals, The Party of Ideals

XIV - Temperance : The Idealist, Diana Obsidian

XV - The Devil : The Doctor, Acro

XVI - The Tower : Ruins of Time, The Abyssal Ruins

XVII - The Star : The Enchantress, Shauntal Del Rosario

XVIII - The Moon : The Gambler, Grimsley Slater

XIX - The Sun : The Heir, Benga Redwood

XX - Judgement : Dragon of Thunder, Zekrom

XXI - The World : The Hero of Ideals, Nathaniel Blake

[hexados-on-a-string]

spectragus dont get enough credit for being a sun and moon ship but like. destructive sun and moon ship. sun and moon ship but they're the forces of nature the sun and moon actually are. the sun is harsh and relentless and unpredictable in its evil but also it's kindness, the moon is sharp and cold and cruel, a harsh light that doesn't allow you peace, but can also guide you, a light in the darkness. even on nights with a new moon, with no light in the sky, the moon is always reflecting the sun, and it'll be that way until they come to their end.

[inseobts]

hello i apologize if this is a lot but i'd love to req a fic w/ zoro, law, ace, sanji where reader is normally mature but has cuteness aggression to animals, & when she started dating them, she does it to the boys too- suddenly clinging onto them while aggressively peppering their faces w/ kisses or squeezing their cheeks & just being so overly proud of them & showering them w/ compliments, it can be a common occurrence or it takes the boys by surprise lol you decide ^o^

also, thank u for ur service to the op community on tumblr 🫡 the quality & frequency of ur fics are impressive, i always look forward to ur updates♡

Clingy Combat Cuddles

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace (x fem!reader) + chopper (platonic but with zoro too)

a/n: they're kinda short because I didn't have many ideas, so I added chopper (ofc it's platonic tho + it has zoro in it!)

words count: around 0.4k - 0.6k each

tags: fluff, humor, cuteness aggression, established relationship (except for chopper ofc)

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The deck of the Sunny is peaceful. The sun is warm. The sea is calm. A perfect day.

And Zoro has just fought a sea king.

You're watching from the side, arms crossed, lips pressed together, trying to stay cool and composed. Like always.

But Zoro walks past you, shirt still off, a little cut on his cheek, sword resting against his shoulder and he scowls at the deck like it personally offended him.

That’s it.

That’s the moment.

Your brain breaks.

You lunge at him without warning “Zoro!”

He turns his head, barely reacting in time before you wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly so you can hang off him, nuzzling your face into the side of his jaw.

“YOU WERE SO COOL!! You chopped that thing like shing shing BAM! My big strong grumpy samurai baby!”

He stiffens “Oi! What the—”

You grab his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks together like dough.

“Look at this face! So serious! So brave! So slicey! UGH!!”

You start kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, even his frown line like you're on a mission.

Zoro is frozen. Arms hanging in the air like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“…Did you hit your head?” he finally mutters.

“No!” you say, still kissing him “I just... I have a thing!”

“A thing?”

“Yes! I get aggressive when things are too cute or too cool or too brave! Like when Chopper does his little dance or when cats squish into boxes—and now you!”

He gives you a blank look “So… you're calling me cute?”

“No,” you say seriously “I’m calling you the cutest deadly thing I’ve ever seen and I want to eat your face in the most loving way possible.”

“...What.”

A few feet away, the rest of the crew is watching like it’s a new show.

Luffy’s grinning, sitting on the railing “He’s gonna explode.”

Usopp is pale “I’ve never seen her like that. That’s terrifying.”

Sanji’s cigarette hangs from his lip, forgotten “He doesn’t deserve that level of affection, but damn if I’m not jealous.”

Robin chuckles “So, this is what she’s like when the mask slips. Fascinating.”

Back to Zoro who now has you hanging off his front, kissing under his chin while mumbling things like “my battle bear” and “look at this terrifying angel”.

He finally puts a hand on your back, awkwardly “…You’re seriously not joking.”

“Nope,” you chirp, grinning like a lunatic “I’m so proud of you I might die. Look at you! Protecting everyone without hesitation. You’re amazing.”

He stares at you. Then down at his swords. Then at the deck.

“I just killed a sea king.”

“And it was HOT.”

Zoro groans and hides his face behind your shoulder.

Later on you’re sitting on the grass, your head in his lap, Zoro finally having managed to drag you somewhere quieter. Sort of.

He’s sharpening his swords, jaw set, pretending he’s not enjoying the way you keep sneaking kisses to his thigh.

“You done acting weird?”

“Nope,” you say, immediately reaching up to pinch his cheek again “You’re mine now. This is the price.”

Zoro sighs, annoyed.

But he doesn’t move your hand.

Instead, he glances down, and there’s a tiny hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“You better not do this in front of enemies.”

“No promises.”

“…Tch.”

You grin and tug him down for another forehead kiss.

And this time, he lets you.

── .✦ Sanji:

You’ve been good today. Calm. Collected. You kept your hands to yourself through breakfast, through a minor skirmish with Marines, and even through Sanji’s dramatic backflip dodge while holding two plates of soup.

But now… Now he’s plating dessert.

He hums a little as he swirls whipped cream into perfect little peaks.

His hair falls over his eye just a bit, and there's flour on his cheek.

You try. You really try.

But no... You’re losing it.

“Sanji—” you say, voice tight.

He turns with a warm smile “Yes, my love?”

You’re already marching toward him.

“Oh no,” he says, eyes wide with anticipation “Is it time?”

“It’s time.”

You slam into him like a heat-seeking missile, arms wrapping tight around his middle as you squish your cheek against his chest.

“TOO PERFECT. TOO BEAUTIFUL. TOO TALENTED” you shout into his shirt.

Sanji laughs and drops the whipped cream just in time to catch you with both arms.

“Mon dieu, you’re doing it again. You’re going to kill me with affection.”

You grab his face “GOOD. DIE WITH LOVE.”

You start smothering him in kisses: forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, ears, rapid-fire smooches with increasing intensity.

Sanji nearly melts.

“Chérie, please, my heart can only take so much—”

“Look at you!” you cry, squeezing his cheeks “Your stupid little smile and your perfect food and your gentleman act! You’re SO ANNOYINGLY AMAZING!”

He practically purrs “Say that again.”

“You’re the most beautiful, talented, wonderful man in the world and I want to chew your stupid perfect face like a mochi bun.”

He gasps softly “Marry me.”

“I might do.”

“Then we have to arrange it all.”

Later that evening, you’re sitting peacefully on a chair, flipping through a book.

Sanji walks past you carrying a tray of tea and pauses.

He glances over his shoulder.

You glance up.

There’s flour on his sleeve.

His shirt is rolled up to the elbow.

He’s humming again.

You’re holding it together, but barely.

He smirks “You okay, mon amour?”

You stare.

He walks closer “You’re looking at me like I’m a chocolate cake with legs.”

You slam the book shut and launch up, but before you can pounce, he spreads his arms wide like an invitation.

“Come here, ma chérie. Ruin me.”

You leap into his embrace and he spins you around, laughing as you kiss his face over and over and over.

“You’re shameless!” you giggle.

“I’m in love,” he says dramatically “If your kisses were a drug, I’d be long dead.”

“I will squish your cheeks into dumplings and feed them to seagulls.”

“Please do.”

“You’re too pretty, it’s unfair.”

“I’ll ugly it up a little. Give me a day.”

“NO! I love your face, I’d wear it like a scarf if I could.”

He fake-swoons “Do it. Take it. I’m yours.”

“Is this… normal now?” Zoro mutters as he watches you pin Sanji against the wall of the kitchen, attacking him with affectionate nibbles and kisses while he happily takes it, hands holding your waist like he’s never been more at peace.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nami says, sipping her drink “They’re like this almost every day.”

Brook hums “Yohoho! True love is terrifying.”

Robin smiles behind her book “At least it’s harmless. Though, she did try to bite his nose once.”

“She did bite my nose,” Sanji calls out helpfully “It was magnificent.”

Zoro turns away, muttering, “Get a room.”

“We have a room!” Sanji replies “We’re just taking the scenic route!”

Hours later, you’re snuggled on the couch in the kitchen, your head on Sanji’s lap, while he runs his fingers through your hair.

“You good now, love?” he asks gently.

You sigh “I think I emptied the tank.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead “You can refill it tomorrow. I’ll be ready.”

You open one eye “You really don’t mind when I get like that?”

He smiles “Mon amour… I live for it.”

You smile too “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“I hope I do,” he says “Over and over again.”

── .✦ Law:

Law is reviewing maps. His fingers tap against the table in a steady rhythm, eyes darting from note to note. His crew has just docked at a remote island, nothing dramatic today. Just calm preparation.

You're leaning against the wall, watching him.

He’s focused. Serious. In control.

You normally admire that about him.

But now?

It's making you suffer... a lot.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He mumbles something about currents and wind speeds. His lips move with precision. His fingers glide over the paper and...

... and that’s it.

You break.

“Law” you say, voice suspiciously innocent.

He hums without looking up “Mm?”

You walk up behind him slowly. Too slowly. His head lifts just slightly, eyes flicking toward you, narrowing.

“…What are you doing?” he asks flatly.

You don’t answer.

You leap onto him from behind.

“AHHH—”

He jolts forward a little as your arms wrap tight around his neck, your face burying in the side of his head.

“YOU’RE SO SMART. SO FOCUSED. I WANNA BITE YOUR BRAIN THROUGH YOUR SKULL—IN A LOVING WAY!”

“WHAT—?! Y/N—what are you—”

You pull back only to grab his face and start kissing it in a fury. Forehead. Nose. Cheek. Jaw. Temple. Eyelid. Repeat.

“SO! SMART! AND! SEXY! AND! SERIOUS!”

“Are you having some kind of episode?” Law says, voice strangled.

“Yes,” you gasp “It’s called cuteness aggression and you’re the disease.”

Minutes later, Law is leaning back in his desk chair, defeated, while you sit on his lap like an overjoyed little goblin, hands on his cheeks, staring at him lovingly.

“You’re not supposed to be like this” he mutters.

“Like what?” you blink innocently.

“You’re usually calm. Rational. Controlled.”

“I lied,” you say sweetly “That was just the bait phase. This is my final form.”

Law sighs and covers his eyes with one hand “I can’t do diagnostics like this.”

“Sure you can,” you whisper, kissing his nose again “You just need to adjust to your new life. With me on your lap. Forever.”

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “help”.

“Too late,” you say “I’ve chosen you.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re perfect. Look at this little line between your eyebrows. It’s my favorite. Can I kiss it?”

“No.”

You kiss it anyway.

He tries to work. He really does.

You're sitting nearby. Quiet. Reading. Acting like a normal person again.

Then Law says something offhanded, like, “The odds of ambush are low, but possible.”

You immediately drop the book.

You spin in your seat.

“Low but possible? SO. ARE. YOU. That’s you. You’re a low-chance rare-drop man. A mythic legendary boyfriend. I’M GOING TO KISS YOUR EARS.”

“Please do not kiss my ears.”

You pounce again “TOO LATE!”

You squeeze his face gently, tilt it like he’s a confused doll, and begin your assault.

He groans “This is emotional terrorism.”

“You love it.”

“…I don’t hate it.”

Later that night, you’re laying together in his quarters, the world quiet, your head on his chest. He’s stroking your back slowly, finally calm again.

“You’re weird” he murmurs.

“Yup.”

“I liked you better when you were pretending to be emotionally stable.”

You smile into his shirt “Liar.”

“…Yeah,” he mutters “I am.”

You lift your head just enough to look him in the eye “Do you want me to stop?”

He hesitates.

Then, softly “…No.”

You grin “Good. Because I was going to keep doing it anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your hair “Of course you were.”

── .✦ Ace:

Ace drops out of the sky like a meteor, lands on the deck with a dramatic crouch, and tosses a flaming Marine cannon overboard like it’s a beach ball.

Everyone cheers.

You’re already running toward him.

He stands up, beaming, shirt half open, flames still curling off his shoulders.

You throw your arms around him like a tackle.

“BABY!! YOU LIVING INCINERATOR! MY FLAMING HERO!!”

He laughs, wrapping you up tight “I missed you too, firecracker!”

You grab his cheeks.

“I am going to smooch you so hard your freckles become stars.”

“PLEASE DO.”

You slam kiss after kiss to his face, and he laughs through all of it “Wait—no, don’t stop, I’m just surprised! You’re usually the calm one!”

“That version of me is dead,” you say seriously “You dropkicked a cannon midair. I’m going feral.”

“Finally!” he cheers “Join me in chaos!!”

You bite his cheek lightly.

He gasps “I’m in love.”

The rest of the crew watches you both clinging to each other like human Velcro, nuzzling and giggling and attacking each other with affection.

“It’s like watching two puppies roll down a hill” Marco mutters.

Thatch wipes a tear “Beautiful. Gross. But beautiful.”

Ace is now spinning you in a circle while you repeatedly yell, “YOU’RE SO STUPIDLY HOT, IT MAKES ME ANGRY.”

“YEAH?! GOOD! I WANNA BE HOT FOR YOU FOREVER!”

“STOP SMILING LIKE THAT YOU HANDSOME PIECE OF SUNSHINE!”

“I CAN’T, YOU’RE TOO CUTE WHEN YOU YELL.”

Later, Ace plops down beside you, sweaty and soot-streaked after another skirmish. He opens his arms wide.

“Do your thing” he says.

You blink “What thing?”

He grins “You know. That thing. The... 'aggressive cuddles and I-want-to-chew-your-face' thing.”

“Ohhh, you want the full package?”

“Yes please.”

You tackle him to the ground instantly.

“MY BEAUTIFUL DUMB IDIOT. MY FLAMING HOT DORK. MY BRAVE EXPLOSION HUSBAND.”

You kiss his forehead.

Then both cheeks.

Then his jaw.

Then you pause.

“You smell like smoke and sea salt.”

“Romantic, huh?”

“You smell like danger and I love it.”

“I love you.”

You pause again “Ew. That was corny.”

“You just licked my face like a cat two minutes ago.”

“Fair.”

At night, lying in a hammock together, he holds you tight against his chest. The wind is quiet. The sea gentle.

He brushes his fingers through your hair.

“You really don’t get embarrassed?” he whispers.

“Not when it comes to you” you murmur back.

“Even when you call me a ‘beautiful flaming dumbass’ in public?”

“Especially then.”

He grins into your hair.

“I like this side of you” he says.

You look up “You mean the clingy one that kisses your nose in front of your whole crew?”

“No,” he replies softly “The one that doesn’t hold back.”

You smile.

“Then you’re stuck with me.”

Ace kisses your forehead.

“Good. Because I’d set the world on fire before I let you go.”

── .✦ Chopper (+ Zoro):

“Okay, next patient,” Chopper says proudly, flipping his clipboard “Let’s see Y/N, it’s just your check-up!”

You sit on the exam table swinging your legs “Yup! I’m ready, Doctor Tiny Genius.”

“I told you not to call me that” he mutters, hiding his flustered face behind the clipboard.

You lean down and whisper, “But you are a tiny genius.”

“Stop iiiit,” he whines, blushing, “I’m just doing my job!”

You watch him waddle around the room with his little doctor coat and stethoscope.

He’s so smol. So serious. So determined.

You can’t hold it.

“Chopper,” you whisper “Come closer.”

He looks up, confused “Huh? Why?”

“Come. Closer.”

“Are you okay—?”

You snatch him right off the ground and CRADLE him in your arms.

“TOO CUTE. TOO KIND. TOO FLUFFY. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’M GONNA EXPLODE.”

“W-WHA—?!” Chopper’s face is glowing red “W-WAIT! I—I’m your doctor—!”

You rub your cheek against his fuzzy face “You are my doctor AND my emotional support reindeer. Let me love you.”

“You’re squishing my antlers—!”

“They are precious and I would die for them.”

Chopper flails, but doesn’t really try to escape. He’s used to this. You do this at least once a week.

“I’m gonna tell Zoro!” he threatens, kicking gently.

“Zoro loves it. He thinks you’re cute too.”

Zoro is leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold.

You cradling Chopper like a plush toy while Chopper pretends to be mad but actually leaning into your touch.

Zoro sighs... and smile.

“You’re enabling her” Chopper says accusingly.

Zoro shrugs “You are adorable.”

“Not you too!” Chopper squeaks.

You smirk “See? I told you.”

Zoro walks over and gently ruffles Chopper’s hat “Deal with it, doc. She only does this to her favorite people.”

Chopper freezes. Blinks. Looks between you and Zoro.

“R-Really?”

You nod and boop his nose “Only the elite get aggressively snuggled.”

He goes completely red, squeaks, and buries his face in your shoulder.

“Okay... but just for five more seconds.”

You squeeze him tighter “Ten.”

Later, as you finally let Chopper go, he adjusts his little coat and clears his throat.

“I’m still your doctor” he says sternly.

“Of course, Doctor Cutie.”

“Don’t call me that! …I mean, you can, but—wait, no, don’t make it a thing!”

Zoro pats his head on the way out “Too late.”

You lean over and whisper to Zoro “I’m gonna dress him up as a little surgeon plush next time.”

Zoro smirks “I’ll hold him down.”

[narcissistshandler]

hello! this is my first time to request something, can you write overstimulation for sae or rin? (or other bllk characters if you want). like make them get soo ruined, leg shaking, crying, and begging something like those :) thank u in advanced !

　⸸ .ᐟ S ' G O O D FOR Y O U

「 pairing 」 male reader x itoshi rin / itoshi sae [separately] 「 content 」 overstimulating the Itoshi brothers 「 tags 」 amab!reader, top!reader, sex toys, anal sex, overstimulation (obviously), use of "daddy" (to refer to the reader) on Rin's part

a/n I love the Itoshi brothers, unfortunately Sae's part is more of a bonus and the focus here is more on Rin, but hope you like it! [unedited]

RIN always wants your touch, your complete attention and love so much that it feels like an empty hole unable to be filled. Like a cat, he slides into bed as soon as you push him, no questions asked. So complacent to you. And damn flexible. You can push his legs up to his ears after he can't keep them open any longer, spread wide above his head. Hold them there with one or two hands, the position giving you better access to his hole, and allowing you to see the bulge in his stomach whenever your hips move forward ── your dick rearranging his insides. He's fully exposed like this.

God, yoga really did wonders for your relationship.

Unlike his workouts or stretching, at this moment Rin gasps, seeming to struggle with each breath. "You’re making such a mess. Do you even remember how many times it’s been?" you say. But Rin's tear-filled eyes have already lost focus, his bad habit that you thought was adorable taking over too: his tongue lolling out of his mouth, drooling over himself. He was too far away to hear you.

Rin isn't the type to beg because he simply loses himself in the pleasure. You fucked him for hours on end, cum accompanying each thrust, dripping from his full insides. He can only mumble nonsensically, a complete mess, shaking all over when the heat is suddenly there again, in the pit of his stomach, ready to explode. And he doesn't want to cum again, even though his body throbs and yearns. He doesn't want to, no—

His cock jumps into his stomach, the head an angry red where blood pools. There's a growing pool of fluids collecting there; the last two orgasms haven't gotten anything out of him but a few splashes, his balls too tight to give you something—anything. But he couldn't anymore. He was so sensitive. He was always too sensitive to bear the provocation.

But you push him anyway, feeling his entire body tense, the already relaxed hole around you barely squeezing. "I-I'm gonna—" Rin whimpers, tries, the words barely pronounced. "[n-n-name]... I-I can't— I can't— ahhh..."

"Just one more? Just one more, come on, for me. Come for me again, bunny." You, cruel as you are, smile at him, gyrating your hips in a way that makes you perfectly hit that sweet spot inside him. The stimulation is so much it hurts, so good it hurts his stomach, where your cock seems to reach. Pushing inside him, forcing his insides, over and over and over.

"It’s too much, it’s too much, I— I’m gonna—" he's babbling, toes twitching, shaking his head as if in denial. But his body is obedient and responsive to you.

"What was that? 'Too much?' Come on Rin-chan, you want to be good, don't you? Yes, you do, sweetness," you smile as Rin nods, sweat running down his chest. "You can take it. Just. One. Ngh. More." You keep your grip on his heels, keeping him open as you pound into him, mercilessly, grunting at the delicious heat and the fluttering of the walls as he comes again.

Rin is now crying for real, lips trembling, a drool laced mess. His poor penis twitches and throbs and tenses, but nothing comes out of it. It starts to go limp, having nothing left to give. It looks painful. Rin reaches between you to hold him, his hands shaking like the rest of his body.

You think he'll try to ease the tension, maybe rub the burning away from his sensitive urethra, but he doesn't. Your obedient bunny is masturbating for you. Gritting his teeth, grunting and whimpering, something between a wild animal and sweet prey as he obeys and tries to make himself come again for you, trying to keep his cock hard and ready for your demands.

His green eyes roll back in his skull, his muscular legs bounce and spasm, but you hold them in place, abusing his prostate as Rin pulls himself through the pleasure and pain. For you. Wetting his entire chest and chin, squirting for what feels like an eternity as his entire body struggles to escape his control. Too much. Too much.

Rin gasps, seems to be relearning how to breathe, so out of breath that you fear he's going to pass out, "No more, I c-can’t feel my legs..."

"Every time you whimper it makes me want to keep going just to see how much longer until you break. Although, from the way your lovely cock is dripping, your hole all stretched and smooth, I might already have."

"Plewse—"

His hips buck and he swallows the rest of the word. Oh, he's going to pass out──

"Just a little more, bunny, daddy's so close to cumming, you're not going to let me down, are you? It's okay to cry, baby, you can let your dick go. Obedient thing. Just a little more and I'll let you rest."

Even if in the end Rin was completely in pain and unable to feel his own body, the ultra-sensitive hole and his cock dripping with no sign of pause, he would never stop you from taking your pleasure from him.

He was so good to you.

Tears, begging, obedience and everything.

+   B O N U S: SAE ITOSHI

It's been hours since you started playing with his body, as you lewdly called it. Destroying him, was how Sae preferred to put it. Some people often claimed to enter some sort of subspace when under continuous stimulation, but Sae was hyperaware the entire time. Unable to escape from your hands.

He lost count of how many there were. The toys pushed through the smooth ring of muscles, some so small they barely gave satisfaction, some long ones, which reached so deep that they took his breath away. One was as thick as your fist and Sae might have torn the sheets as he writhed from the overwhelming stretching sensation.

He's already forgotten how to breathe when you pull the powerful little vibrator out of him. It feels like his hole continues to vibrate even now that it's empty, the sensation doesn't go away. The tight ring at the base of his cock didn't help, only making it more cruel. Sae was at your mercy, taking an indecent variety of toys inside him, balls tight with release denied.

"[name]." His voice was low, rouca, the warning clear as day, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the way his hole fluttered weakly against a cabeça de seu pau. "You promised." Sae was shaking like a leaf. You tried to pull him to his knees, but he couldn't stay in position, having slipped down onto the dirty, sticky sheets.

He no longer remembered the promise very well, but it probably had to do with letting him cum after he took the monstrous dildo inside him. And nothing about you pushing your cock against his swollen, sensitive hole.

"Just a little more, I promise. I'll let you cum as soon as I have my cock buried deep inside you."

"[name]," He gasps, not believing you. You would finish off what was left of him.

"Yes?"

Sae's hole throbbed, his cock felt like it was about to explode beneath his body, and everything about him was sweaty and hot. The denial, the stimulation, hurt. But he still wanted your cock so badly──

"Yes... Please."

[mocchii-writes]

hii!! i love your work! i would like to request head-canons with a reader who is an ex cop (could be from the same reason as jun ho, as they failed to investigate the mysterious island) but this time, they’re actually able to infiltrate into the games. you can do separate characters for gi hun, in ho, dae ho, thanos, and nam gyu?!

Squid Game Boys if You Were Undercover in the Games

Paring: Seong Gi-hun, Hwang In-ho, Kang Dae-ho, Choi Su-bong (Thanos), Nam-gyu x fem!Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Drugs

A/n: I hope I understood this correctly, Anon, it's a very cool one! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

~🍡🍡

Hwang In-ho:

This would be very interesting indeed

Since he's also an undercover spy-esc. type, he might not even notice if you act suspicious in that type because he's covering up himself

but he also seems smart enough to figure it out

he would admire your bravery, if so, and originally planned to shut you down once he thought you'd had enough fun

but there was something about the way you looked at him sometimes that made him pause

it took him a while to realise he actually liked you, and the thought didn't exactly comfort him

you guys would play a game of tag in the dark, jumping around the fact that you're on opposing sides of a growing war

and you'd both pretend you knew nothing so you could be friendly guilt-free

he wouldn't hesitate at the chance to save your life, unlike he would for many other "friends"

he's very protective and defensive of you anytime anyplace

if anyone even thought of hurting you, pray for them fr

he's almost ashamed to admit to himself that he cares about you, but the thought hardly crosses his mind when met with false hatred for you instead.

(or what he calls hatred)

Seong Gi-hun (s2):

You knew he could use all the help he could get, and he seemed almost too kind to be in this place

and you knew you could use all the help you could get as well

so you didn't have to think long on it to decide to tell him what you knew

he trusts you, for sure

he's also protective of you, trying his best to ensure your safety even though that's a hard ask

and you protect him too, to the best of your abilities

you both have a common goal, too, and that helps with the bonding

speaking of

you two would bond pretty well imo, sharing your stories and fears with each other at night

he's not very confident in terms of romance, and he'd probably miss most of your hints because he's so used to people never glancing his way

but eventually he would understand

if not your feelings, then his own

and he would probably confess to you by like either exploding a bunch of words out of his mouth that are hardly understandable, or very quietly and clearly, like he's sharing a secret with you

Kang Dae-ho:

If you told him he would be so impressed, let's be honest here

literally star-struck, because an undercover ex-cop is the sickest thing ever??

and not to mention he definitely already admires you

he wants to know everything about your investigation and your backstory

he feels very safe with you, but still holds himself to the standard of defending you if he needs to

you'll probably have to make the first move unless you can boost his ego a little more because like I said, he thinks you're way too cool for him

you would do your best to help him, and he does the same for you

which really makes you two a crazy power couple because when you guys really link up you're unstoppable

I just know yall would devour in the riot omg

he loves loves loves you, and he loves talking to you about all the police stuff you do and his time in the military

Choi Su-bong (Thanos):

It's an understatement to say you were wary of him, and even more wary of telling him your reasons for being here

but it's not like he would notice anything weird, so you'll be alright

you were trying to keep a low profile, but Thanos didn't intend to just let a pretty girl like you get away

He tried his usual charms, and whether or not they worked is... irrelevant... 🤭

anyways

you joined his group because you thought it gave you safety, but that didn't stop Thanos from trying to win you over

after your suspicions died down, he seemed pretty genuine

so you told him your story, and he listened

he told you he'd try to help you, but neither of you know if he could really help that much

but he definitely respected you more after that

and nobody dares to mess with Thanos's girl, but if they did, you know he'd handle it

he thinks of you as a close friend as well, and he trusts you more after you tell him you're undercover

he would want to tell Nam-gyu, but he wouldn't if you didn't want him to

he would think it's hot lmao

he'd be like, "So you're a super secret spy? cool, cool. Where's your earpiece?"

"bro"

"Hm?"

it overall wouldn't really affect how he treats you, but your relationship would sift, probably for the better

Nam-gyu:

Depending on how you met, he would be really gentle with you imo

he's really nice with thanos (though he claims it's for the drugs)

so I think if he liked you he would really like you

we know he's very touchy and probably protective of you

but when you tell him your real story, he's flabbergasted

I mean sure, it makes sense, but what??

his perfect wife? (he's known you 4 days)

he's very proud of it

will probably yap to everyone about it, sadly

you'll really have to hold him back, if you can

he'd say he wants to hear about it but hed probably lose interest lmao

but he'll ask you late at night, and you two will talk for a while about your lives

he'd say he's ashamed of his life currently, and that you have so much more potential

you'd have to comfort him and tell him it's okay

also, please comfort him when he takes drugs from thanos because they make him pretty anxious sometimes

and he just wants to be with you, so hold him ♡

protects you but also knows you can handle yourself, just give him this

Sorry, I'm posting really slow but all the req will be out once I get on that grind ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

~🍡🍡

[rika-mmendmethings]

Interdimensional Epiphany l Rafayel

CHAPTER 5

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 coming soon

Summary: A fortnight of compensated leave from your company was supposed to be a rejuvenating experience. Things take an unexpected turn when Rafayel, your choice of ML, starts becoming self-aware. His love knows no bounds, not even interdimensional ones.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. The series has major character deaths, subdued manipulation, heavy angst with a happy(?) ending, slight yandere themes, fluff, did I mention angst? For this chapter: Major character death, torture, immolation, heavy references to blood and betrayal, graphic violence, arson, not myth or timeline accurate, maniacal characters.

Word count: 5k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: IT IS BACK EVERYONE!!!! Shoutout to all who waited patiently and I present you a very long chapter and important to compensate for lost time ;) I've mentioned this before that this series will be a deeper dive into Rafayel's cruel persona and will actually deviate from myths so hope y'all keep this in mind. I had to face so many obstacles to write this because it took me lots of brainstorming to think of the what ifs. Anyway, hopefully, you enjoy the read and stay tuned for the series. Lmk if you wish to be added to the tag list for this. ♥

Taglist: @loveanddeephistory @ittybittyfanblog @lyssandraxo @micasosa34 @hyein21 @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @blessdunrest @altair718 @3fg7 @froleineeeee @mikachux3 @aiehtta @beaconsxd @poptrim @animecrazy76 @zackenblacken @rainycreationfart @invaderzia1 @his-ocean-emissary @multisstuff @wondering-again @some-girl-idk @itsrandompersonyall @plzdonutpercieveme @renchai @mc-cos-charm @mentaltrouble2201 @jeremywillis @dysphxriaii @paper--angel @bymoonlightfics @lizzyyrawrs

The manor that had been arranged for Rafayel to stay in for some time was a far cry from the home he’d known. Rafayel didn’t remember much of the drive there, only the long stretch of winding roads leading him further away from the smoldering wreckage of Mo Art Studio. His mind had been somewhere else, a deep, painful fog that seemed to darken everything in its path. He hadn’t asked for the relocation. But the decision had been made without his input, and he’d accepted it the same way he accepted the news of the fire — without resistance, too numb to care.

The manor sat on another hill overlooking Whitesand Bay, a sweeping view of the sea below, but Rafayel had no desire to look at it today. The water, once a calming reminder of his roots, now felt distant and infuriating. Instead, he sat in the center of the expansive study, staring at the high ceilings, his breath shallow. The space was overwhelming. 

Rafayel let out a low exhale and sank into a plush armchair, spinning the chair absentmindedly. His fingers drummed on the armrest, the rhythmic sound filling the air like a ticking clock. Time passed, but nothing seemed to move forward. The anger, simmering beneath the surface, threatened to boil over again, but he clamped down on it.

He couldn’t act recklessly — not yet. He had to be patient. There were details to consider, a plan to form, and the last thing he needed was to lose control now. He needed answers, and he would get them, even if it took everything inside him to stay calm.

And then the door to the manor creaked open. Rafayel didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. His manager’s footsteps were hesitant, Thomas’s head appeared around the corner, his gaze wary, like he was approaching a bomb ready to explode.

“I, uh... I think you’ll want to see this.” Thomas said, his voice tight, as if he were trying to tread carefully. He moved toward Rafayel, a small USB drive held in his hand.

Rafayel didn’t say a word. Thomas’s expression was one of guilt — regret even. He hesitated for a moment, then set the drive on the table in front of Rafayel, as if afraid to get any closer. Without a word, Thomas turned and left the room, his footsteps fading into the quiet distance. He didn’t move for a long time. His fingers curled into fists as his eyes stayed fixed on the USB drive. After a few more moments of contemplation, he reached for it. The weight of it felt too small for what it was about to contain.

Rafayel didn’t waste a second. He shoved the pen drive into his computer, eyes already narrowing, waiting for the inevitable. A file popped up automatically on the screen, and for a moment, his heartbeat stuttered. Surveillance footage.

He clicked on it.

The timestamp on the video read a few hours before the fire. Rafayel leaned forward in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests tightly, his breath shallow as he watched the grainy footage unfold. The first part was uneventful. A few people walked past the building, chatting or on their phones. He clicked through, fast-forwarding the mundane snippets of time. The room around him was unnervingly silent, save for the occasional hum of his computer and the muffled sound of the sea outside. 

And then — there she was.

Mikayla.

At first, the footage showed nothing unusual after her arrival. Mikayla, with her slender frame and determined gait, walking up to the door, stopping to adjust her hair. But then came the unmistakable glint of tools in her hands and a kerosene can beside her legs. A lockpick was delicately wedged into the door. Rafayel’s jaw tightened as he watched Mikayla, the woman he'd once trusted, invade his personal space with cold calculation.

The next few frames were more damning. He saw her slipping inside — the house quiet and empty, as it had been when he’d left. But the silence was broken only by the sound of kerosene splashing. Rafayel’s jaw tightened as he watched her pour it. Everywhere. In the living room. In the hallway.

His eyes blazed with a cold fury, flicking between each camera as she systematically soaked the rooms. Especially the studio. His studio. The place where he'd poured his heart out, the very space where he'd captured you — his muse, his obsession. The portraits of you, unfinished and aching with life, lying there, oblivious to what was coming.

He flicked to the kitchen cam next. She turned on the stove, the flame dancing briefly as she set something near it, perhaps setting it up to ignite the rest of the house. Then, the heaters. One by one, she activated them in rooms scattered throughout the building.

She was ensuring there was no way to contain it, Rafayel thought, anger bubbling in his chest. 

The last angle — the yard camera — showed her walking down the pathway, her head held high. And then she stopped. Turned her head slightly, as if to watch her handiwork. And that was the last frame before the fire began to spread. It wasn’t just a spark. It was a rush of fire, a violent wave of heat, starting from the kitchen and spreading like wildfire, engulfing the entire structure.

Rafayel’s vision blazed blue again, the glow so bright it nearly illuminated the room. His hand slammed onto the desk, splintering the silence with a force that felt like it might tear him apart. His teeth gritted as he muttered under his breath, “It was her…”

The revelation hit like a hammer. His mind raced, thoughts colliding, trying to make sense of it all. Why? Why would she do this?

But no matter the reasoning, no matter how many times he replayed it, the truth was simple. Mikayla had burned everything he had ever cared about. She didn’t even consider the effort he had put into his works, or the fact that he cherished Mo as his home to some extent.

His powers flared again as his mind replayed the footage in an endless loop, each time seeing Mikayla’s face, each time imagining her walking away, untouched. But not for long. 

She’ll pay.

He stood abruptly, the chair screeching across the floor as he rose. His heart pounded in his ears, as he dialled a number of a person he had kept in the back of his mind all these years. He presses the phone to his ear just as the line connects.

“Amund, it is time.”

Mikayla stood at the edge of the cliffside estate, her figure small against the vast expanse of Whitesand Bay. The wind tugged at the hem of her coat, lifting strands of her hair and carrying them into the salty air. She barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, glassy and unfocused, while her fingers tapped rhythmically against her phone screen — not with intent, but as if driven by muscle memory alone.

She had come here because of a short, cryptic message from Rafayel.

“I need what you’ve kept with you for too long.”

There had been no context, no greeting, just that single line. She had read it twice, then again, confusion twisting into unease. Whatever it meant, she couldn't ignore it. Rafayel didn’t speak in riddles unless there was weight behind them — and lately, his silences carried the mass of a storm.

Her heels had clicked up the stone pathway to the manor only to be met by Thomas. The door cracked open just enough for him to peer out — expression unreadable, lips a straight, disapproving line. His eyes were sunken with fatigue, and something else, something grim: a knowledge he didn’t want to hold.

“Rafayel’s not here,” he’d said curtly.

She opened her mouth, but before she could form a question, he added, “Don’t ask. He disappears like that. Always has.”

Then, without another word, the door had shut. So now she waited. The manor loomed behind her like a sleeping beast — windows tall and dark, its chimneys unmoving against the gray sky. She had texted Rafayel again two minutes ago, asking about his whereabouts and had gotten no reply yet. 

Mikayla turned her gaze back to the ocean. It stretched endlessly, a field of rolling steel-blue waves that mirrored the heavy clouds above. Normally, this view brought her peace — the ebb and flow of the tide, the way the sunlight danced on the water’s surface. But today, something was different. The sea was no longer passive. It felt alive. 

The wind sharpened, slicing across her cheeks. Down below, the shoreline churned, frothing violently as wave after wave collided with the rocks. The waters had turned from sapphire to slate, turbulent and restless, like a beast pacing within its cage. 

Mikayla took a step back instinctively.

A sudden surge of water roared up the beach, crashing toward the cliff’s edge with startling speed. She barely had time to move, stepping sideways as the wave surged close — not quite high enough to drench her, but close enough to spit foam onto her shoes. She glanced down, cursing under her breath, but before the irritation could fully settle, she felt a shift.

It wasn't just a change in tide. It was as if the ocean had decided it no longer wished to sit still. A sudden hush settled, eerily quiet — and then the sea screamed. From the horizon, a towering swell rose, unnaturally fast. A tidal wave, dark as night and crowned with whitecaps like sharpened teeth, hurtled toward the shore. It curved like a spine, arching as if summoned by wrath.

Mikayla’s breath caught. Her feet froze. The sky dimmed as the wall of water rose above her, blotting out what little light remained.

Cold seized her legs first — then her waist, her chest — and then she was under. Dragged violently through the sand and into the frothing embrace of the sea. The world above vanished, replaced by a riot of bubbles, shadow, and cold pressure.

She fought, but it was futile. The ocean didn’t care for struggles. It twisted her limbs, spun her in currents that felt like iron cables wrapping around her. She tried to cry out, but the sea swallowed her voice.

Her fingers slackened. Her limbs, once flailing, drifted like ribbons in the dark. The light overhead — distant and warbled — faded until she could no longer tell up from down.

And far above, on the cliffs of Whitesand Bay, the sea hissed against the rocks, retreating slowly — as if it had claimed what it came for, and was now satisfied.

Mikayla blinked against the watery haze, slowly regaining control of her senses. She realized her wrists and ankles were bound, held by coils of glowing kelp-like chain, pulsing faintly in the water’s ethereal light. She opened her eyes, and the sight that greeted her stole the breath she hadn’t even known she could draw underwater. 

The world around her shimmered with an otherworldly sheen — an ancient ruin, bathed in bioluminescent blues and deep violets, its crumbled stone columns etched with unfamiliar symbols. Coral bloomed from broken walls, and strange, luminous fish swam between the gaps like wandering thoughts. 

And then it struck her.

She had seen this place before — not once, but countless times in dreams, always out of reach. And now, she was here. 

As Mikayla’s thoughts scrambled to make sense of it all, a dark silhouette stretched across the ocean floor, and her body tensed. She raised her head instinctively, eyes adjusting to the approaching figure, and there — just a few feet away — was Rafayel.

Her initial tension dissolved into fragile relief.

“Rafayel,” she breathed, her voice soft, the sound somehow carrying through the water as clearly as it would on land. Seeing him — a familiar face in a sea of the surreal — steadied her, if only for a moment. “What is this place? Why are we here…? Is it some wanderer’s effect?”

She expected a trace of warmth in his eyes or a sarcastic quip. But none came.

Instead, he stopped before her, his presence impossibly still. Up close, she could see how changed he was — how far from the man she remembered. His usually dusky eyes were now a luminous ultramarine, glowing with a quiet, alien intensity. Fins, translucent and glimmering, curved elegantly along the shell of his ears, and scaled patterns — the same deep blue — trailed from beneath his jaw down his throat, disappearing under the folds of his garments. But more than his appearance, it was his expression that pierced her the most.

From the edge of her vision, she noticed another figure — an old man watching from behind one of the shattered columns. His expression twisted into a sneer the moment their eyes met, his amusement thinly veiled. He didn’t speak, but the mockery in his gaze said enough.

“You thought I would remain in the dark?” He said, voice as steady as stone, yet heavy with restrained fury. “You thought, perhaps, I wouldn’t find the person who was the cause of the absolute desecration of everything I ever built?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her tone still confused but shifting — touched with a thread of caution.

“You set sanctuary aflame, destroyed my life’s work.” His voice didn’t rise, but each word landed like a drop of molten lead. “You chose to destroy what you never had the patience to understand.”

The girl who had blinked at him with confusion only moments ago began to fade as something in her shifted. She clicked her tongue, her eyes narrowing. The softness drained from her features, replaced by a steely indifference. Her shoulders lifted with a breathless huff, chin tipping upward.

“Ah,” she murmured, her voice now cool and unhurried. “So you did find out.”

She tilted her head toward the chains binding her. “So that’s the reason I’m here, then? You believe a cage will humble me?” She gave a half-laugh — not mocking, but disdainful. “I won’t be treated like this, Rafayel. Not by you.”

“You speak as though you still have the right to be offended,” he said. “As though betrayal gives you the high ground.”

The water between them seemed to pulse with tension. Rafayel’s face twitched, barely — just enough to betray the tempest beneath the stillness. He turned from her, walking slowly toward the crumbled remains of a podium, his hands clasped behind his back like a judge before the verdict. He stood there for a breath and then turned to face her again.

“Although, you’re right,” he said, voice edged with cruel irony. “You’re my guest in the Island of Songs. I should be offering you hospitality.” He smiled, but it was simply a hollow curve of the mouth. “We’re close, aren’t we? You deserve the best.”

He paused, and the chains around her responded before he gave them voice. Her eyes widened a fraction as the bindings cinched tighter. The pressure multiplied, slamming against her skin, her bones. Mikayla hissed through her teeth, pain lancing through her limbs as the magical restraints dug deep into her.

She struggled, chest heaving, the sting of betrayal blooming sharper than any wound.

"Rafayel—"

Amund’s footsteps echoed solemnly against the sea-glass tiles of the submerged ruin as he approached Rafayel with measured grace. In his hands, he cradled something wrapped in silk — an object so sacred that even the coral seemed to lean away from it, as though aware of its resonance. With reverence, the old man drew back the translucent cloth to reveal a ceremonial dagger. Its blade shimmered with an unnatural luminance, forged from a metal no surface-world forge had ever touched — a sleek, obsidian-sheened platinum veined with veins of soft violet glow, like lightning locked in ice. The hilt curved like the spine of a mythical sea-serpent, etched in Lemurian runes that pulsed faintly as if they were breathing. 

Rafayel stood silently, hands open and steady, accepting the dagger with both palms outstretched. The moment it touched his skin, the runes began to burn brighter, their glow syncing with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Amund muttered in Lemurian, each syllable stirring unseen forces in the depths around them. 

Rafayel turned, his gaze settled once more on Mikayla.

She hung suspended in the enchanted chains, arms spread slightly from her sides, her body bowed by the pressure of their grip. The kelp-like bonds writhed faintly, as though aware of their victim’s pain and drawing nourishment from it. Her breaths came shallow and uneven, each one a ragged effort. Her eyes, though glassy with strain, still held defiance — but it was a dying flame.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice velvet-wrapped iron. He let his lips curl into a smile that bore no warmth, only satisfaction. “Come on, Mikayla. Tolerate it. So much worse is still to come.”

The chains pulsed tighter in response and she hissed, blood blooming like scarlet ink in the water, curling in gentle spirals as if even her agony had been choreographed. Her voice broke as she choked out, “What do you want?”

Rafayel didn’t answer immediately. He began to walk toward her, stopping only inches from her, crouching slightly so that their eyes met. He lifted the dagger between them, tilting it gently so the gleam of its edge traced the outline of her cheek. The blade didn’t touch her, but it sang — a high, aching frequency that made her teeth ache. 

“I want your heart,” he said softly. Then he chuckled, dry and unkind, before letting the hilt fall into a loose grip. He drew his free hand across his face in mock frustration, as though catching himself in a minor social faux pas.

“Oh — sorry,” he said with mocking sweetness. “My heart, actually.”

Mikayla’s face contorted with disbelief, color rising high on her cheeks even as the cold currents tried to drain the warmth from her skin. Her voice cracked as it rose into a scream, her words laced with venom and heartbreak.

“All this — all this — for a woman you don’t even know. A woman who doesn’t exist, Rafayel!”

Rafayel didn’t flinch. Instead, he chuckled mirthlessly, his eyes, still pulsing with that ultramarine glow, glinted with something unrecognizable to the man she once knew.

“Oh, but I do know her,” he stated, voice silked with certainty. “And she’s not just any woman, believe me.”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully with the tip of the ceremonial dagger, an idle gesture made cruel by the context — as if he were pondering nothing more serious than a piece of music or a half-finished poem. Mikayla’s breath caught as she watched him. She’s not real, her mind screamed. But he wasn’t hearing that now. He wasn’t hearing her at all.

He continued, voice almost pleasant: “And you don’t have to worry about whether I’ll meet her or not. After today,” — his smile widened, predatory — “you can be most certain that I will.”

“Although…” He tilted his head, feigning regret. “I can’t guarantee you’ll live to witness that.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came. For the first time, real fear bloomed in her chest. Not the fear of pain — no, she had endured that and more — but the fear of being forgotten. Of being eclipsed in the heart of a man who had once refused to stop seeing her, even when she pushed him away again and again. The man who once poured himself into painting her shadows now looked through her as though she were just another ruin left behind.

And this — this — over a fantasy? A woman who lived only in his brushstrokes and canvases?

Her eyes burned as angry, spiteful tears spilled into the water, turning her vision into a blur of motion and light. Her heart screamed against itself — against the punishment now being dealt by her own hands, from choices she had long buried beneath indifference and superiority.

But there was still one card left to play.

With trembling strength, she raised her chin. Her jaw was set, her voice breathy but resolute. She summoned power from the marrow of her bones, from the bond he had made with her long ago beneath moonlit tides.

Her voice struck through the water like a divine command:

“With the authority granted to me by the Ocean’s Covenant,” she began, gritting her teeth, “I order you to erase that wo—”

She never finished.

Rafayel spun. In an instant, the casual cruelty was gone — replaced by a sharp, ruthless urgency. The blade flashed through the water like a bolt of light summoned from the seabed, and in a single fluid motion, he swung the dagger toward her with terrifying precision. Her eyes widened and the words on her tongue dissolved like salt. A current followed in the weapon’s wake, rippling out like a shockwave. 

The dagger sang through the water as it arced downward, and in a blink — before Mikayla could finish her forbidden command — the blade severed her tongue.

A rush of crimson bloomed, then disappeared into the depths in whorls of blood-tinged silence. No scream followed. There was only the choked gasp of a body shocked beyond endurance, and the widening of her eyes — first in disbelief, then in searing agony.

Her voice, the very instrument of her power, was gone.

Forever.

Rafayel stood over her, breathing slowly as the runes along the dagger’s hilt pulsed brighter, feeding on the severed command, on the fractured spell still echoing in the current like a fading heartbeat. The silence that followed was immense — not merely the absence of sound, but the suppression of something sacred. Mikayla’s breath trembled in short, helpless bursts as her blood mingled with the salt of the sea, her limbs twitching against the binds that refused to release her.

Rafayel’s face twisted, not in anger — but in disgust.

“Had I known you’d fall to this level…” he murmured, his voice a low thunder, rumbling with grief barely leashed beneath the fury. “Compelling me to forget something I held dear… to erase her from my soul…”

He stepped closer, the dagger still glowing faintly, its edge now marked with the remnants of her blood. His voice grew colder, more distant, as though each word was dragged from the bones of a long-dead truth.

“I should’ve never given you my heart. And to think—” he stopped, the weight of it pressing on him. His jaw clenched. “To think I sacrificed Lemuria for you.”

Mikayla's breath hitched as her eyes locked on him, still burning with a thousand unsaid pleas — for mercy, for reason, for some last tether to the man she once knew. But he no longer saw her as Mikayla. Not truly. She was just a traitor now, not his bride. 

Rafayel raised the dagger high once more, but this time it was not meant to cut flesh. He brought it down slowly, deliberately, to the center of her chest — and instead of slicing skin, the blade carved through the metaphysical boundary of her being, opening a cavity not of blood and bone, but of essence.

A jagged rift shimmered into being — pulsing with threads of glowing blue, violet, and red, flickering like an aurora within her sternum. From this impossible wound, an orb of soft, flickering flame revealed itself — no larger than a closed fist, yet radiating with the terrible and beautiful force of something eternal.

It floated from her chest as if it knew its path.

Rafayel’s eyes reflected its light as he reached out, hands no longer trembling. The orb hovered above his palms for a heartbeat — two — as if weighing the soul of the man who dared claim it.

And then, with silent understanding, it sank into him.

The moment it touched his chest, it melted through flesh and fabric, embedding itself into the very core of his being. The reaction was instant. His body arched as the energy surged through him like a storm birthed in the marrow of the world. His spine illuminated with runic fire, fins along his ears flared wide and crystalline, and the scales along his neck shimmered into new patterns — no longer muted blue, but radiant indigo marked with gold.

A shockwave burst outward, distorting the water around them, shaking the coral, and splitting the stone at the base of the ruined altar behind them. Even Amund, watching from the shadows, took an instinctive step back, eyes narrowed as he whispered, “He’s ascended…”

Raw power now pulsed from Rafayel’s core, and the ruins seemed to hum in reverence. Mikayla sagged in her binds, eyes fluttering weakly. The mythical process that severed the eternal flame from its host was not instantaneous — nor painless. It gave her a few more moments. Just enough to feel what she had lost. 

Rafayel approached her one last time, his steps leaving trails of light in the water. He crouched before her, calm now — like the sea after the storm, deceptively quiet.

His hand reached forward and gripped her chin, lifting her face gently but with finality.

“Time for you to pay fairly,” he said, his voice a cold psalm, spoken not out of hatred, but of necessity. “For what you’ve done.”

Her form, once sharp with pride, now trembled — not because she feared death, but because, in the final throes of her fading consciousness, she finally understood the cost of betrayal. Mikayla’s body convulsed as the last vestiges of her strength failed her. The chains no longer bound her in struggle, but in surrender. Her hollow eyes — drenched in unshed agony — met Rafayel’s one final time, pleading not for mercy, but for comprehension. But none was offered.

Tears welled and broke like bubbles drifting upward through the water as flames, unnatural and divine, began to kindle across Rafayel’s fingertips. He had no need to speak. The flames leapt from his hands like serpents of gold and blue, wrapping around Mikayla’s form in elegant cruelty. No ordinary fire could ignite beneath the ocean, but this was no earthly blaze. It was born of soul and sanctity — the wrath of Lemuria made manifest. It embraced her not with warmth, but with righteous fury, consuming the very foundation of what she was.

Mikayla did not scream. She could not. She simply wept as her form disintegrated into ash — ash that refused to scatter, instead crumbling downward like dust returning to the bones of the drowned.

And then there was silence. A silence so full it seemed even the water paused in reverence.

Amund stepped forward from the shadows, his expression unreadable, though his gaze lingered on the scorched shimmer that marked the spot where she had perished. He placed a hand on Rafayel’s shoulder without speaking, a gesture that acknowledged both the weight of what had been done — and the necessity of it.

Together, they turned from the ruins, leaving behind the last stain of Lemuria’s greatest betrayer.

The journey back to Whalefall City was quiet. But the city… was no longer what it once was. As they approached the oceanic capital of his kingdom, Rafayel saw it — the rebirth of Lemuria.

The shattered temples, once drowned and crumbling, were reforming. Coral wrapped around fractured columns, singing in strange frequencies, pulling ancient stones into place. Obelisks that had stood silent for centuries now hummed with light, their glyphs blazing once more with Lemurian. Schools of ethereal fish circled upward like garlands, drawn like celebrants in a holy procession.

The Temple, the very core of Lemuria, awaited them. Its ruined spires rose, healed, and reached like arms toward the surface, weeping with moss and gold. As they arrived at the gates, Amund — his weathered face now alight with reverence — bowed deeply and stepped aside, his voice barely a whisper: "Only Your Quintessence may enter now. This miracle… it belongs to you.”

Rafayel nodded once and crossed the threshold.

The inside was luminous and still. Water hung like silk, unmoving, as if the temple had claimed time itself and refused to let it pass. He followed the central aisle — flanked by statues of his predecessors, their eyes shut in peaceful slumber — until he reached the alcove at the altar’s heart.

From within his hands, he drew the eternal flame — now diminished to the size of a small ember, flickering softly in his palm. He crouched, bowed his head, and placed it upon the pedestal.

For a breath, nothing happened.

Then — the ember pulsed. Once. Twice. And with the third pulse, the entire temple came alive.

Light exploded outward in waves, weaving through the chamber like ink dropped in still water. The runes ignited along the floors and walls, and the Deep Sea responded with a low, harmonious thrum, a sound not heard since eons. 

Outside, the ocean itself shifted. Not with violence — but with serenity. A warmth, impossible in these depths, spread through the waters like a returning soul. Lemuria had awakened. Its people would no longer wander as ghosts.

Rafayel turned to the temple doors, where he saw them — the last of Lemuria’s kin, drawn by instinct and magic. Faces he had long forgotten. Elders, children, warriors, lost souls. They were all there.

Some knelt. Others reached toward the light in awe, tears cutting silent trails through the saltwater. And then came the music — sung by the entirety of them in Lemurian, the underwater hymn rising from the marrow of the city itself. They rejoiced in their own way of the return of the God of the Seas.

Rafayel watched, standing still among their joy. And though his face held the composure of a guardian, his heart wavered. He glanced to his side, to the place where he would’ve made you stand.

You were the thread that bound him to his purpose — his muse, his savior, his epiphany. And now, with Lemuria’s resurrection and unlocking his true potential, he would find you. Beyond time and dimension, beyond even mortality if he must.

He would bring you here — beside him — to see the joy you inspired. And for the first time in centuries, Rafayel smiled — not with burden, nor sorrow, but hope.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[synthbug]

Anyone can join in if they want to ^_^

tagged by @hyenagirlbulge smile

Challenge: make a poll with five of your all time favorite characters, and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favorite!

i tag ummmm . @calabrithedragon @chihirolovebot @nexfarious @enby-berries do it if you want : )

[kykyonthemoon]

Nightmares

When nightmares strike, you are the sole source of warmth that could help him overcome his inner turmoil.

ಇ. Character x Reader/MC

(Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne and Dawnbreaker, Xavier and Glitch!Xavier)

ಇ. Tags: hurt/comfort, angst with a little fluff, emotional hurt, comfort

ಇ. Word count: 3k7

ಇ. Requested anonymously.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

Pic from X

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

It was a sunny afternoon when he returned to his old house.

That place still had a modest beauty, the kind of beauty that made family members feel sad every time they left. It was so deeply engraved in his mind that with every breath, he knew he was closer and closer to returning home.

There, would be someone always waiting for him.

The door creaked when opened. Caleb walked inside. The familiar smell of food and the sound of cooking in the kitchen were always the things that impressed him the most. He continued in that direction till he noticed a familiar figure sitting at the dining table, back to the aisle.

Caleb grinned and spoke your name. You did not reply. He went forward, putting one hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

Your lifeless eyes glanced up at him.

"Pipsqueak? What's wrong?"

You did not respond. You slowly rose up and entered the kitchen. Why was this place so dark and cold? Caleb failed to recall the house being this vast and gloomy.

"Where are you going? I'm back now, pipsqueak?

You halted. The warm sunlight poured down on him through the window, but where you stood just a few steps away from him, everything was in darkness.

Even you.

“You only came home now…” You spoke, but your voice didn't contain any emotion. You were always the one who ran into his arms when he came home after long journeys away! Why were you being so distant then?

“Pipsqueak…”

Caleb reached out to you. How he wanted to touch you! He wanted to hold you in his arms and if he had to beg your forgiveness for leaving you, he would definitely do so.

He had been gone for too long.

You looked at him. Tears began to fall and your face showed little emotion. Not joy, but resentment. You became distorted and writhed as if fire surrounded your body.

“You've been gone for too long!”

You screamed out in pain. Caleb quickly rushed towards you, but it seemed like a force was holding him back, making him unable to move. Just like that, he could only open his eyes and watch you burn. The kitchen was on fire. The house was on fire. Everything was on fire.

“You've been gone too long, Caleb!” You shouted. Your tears turned into blood as your body burnt in the flames. “You left me alone! You abandoned our home!”

The walls cracked, the windows exploded and debris flew all around, cutting you, cutting him. The ceiling began to collapse. But there was nothing Caleb could do. He just cried.

“Pipsqueak… Please…”

“You… left me… here...”

Your plaintive screams were swallowed by fire. When he finally was able to reach out and touch you, there was nothing left there but a burned corpse.

The fire disappeared. The cozy house in Caleb's memory had become ruins. He clutched your corpse, which was scorched black and was disintegrating into dust. The sobbing inside him turned into a protest against himself.

He left, because he thought it was the best thing for you.

When it all came back, to this place, many years ago, he had caused the house to explode. To you, he had been dead since then. He didn't have time to say goodbye. But he only had to do it to ensure your safety.

In the end, he could not save you. He could not save himself.

Still, you left this world. Still, you turned into ashes. Who did this to you; it was not the matter. Not when you had already died the day he left.

Caleb yelled with anguish. He lost you, he lost his home. The one thing that kept him going was gradually vanishing, soaring with the wind and never returning to him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Pipsqueak!”

Caleb shouted. He opened his eyes to see the familiar bedroom ceiling, which was dimly lit by street lights outside the window and visible through the curtains.

Beside him, you turned over. With your eyes still closed, one hand struck his chest.

“What now?… Waking me up in the middle of the night…” You said in a sleepy voice. Caleb grabbed your hand and turned around to hug you. Only when he felt your warmth and buried his face in the scent of your hair could he calm down.

“It's nothing, pipsqueak…” He whispered. “It was just a nightmare… Sorry for waking you…”

You breathed evenly in a straight position on the bed. Your mouth grumbled something like: "Idiot... You're a grown-up now, and you're still afraid of nightmares..."

Caleb smiled softly. He gave you an even tighter embrace. "Yes. I'm such an idiot. I'm so terrified of nightmares every time I have to leave you."

“But I'm right here. Now will you let me go back to sleep?”

“Just let me hold you a little longer…” He whispered as he put his hand beneath the pillow and softly drew you into his loving arms.

You were real in front of his eyes.

And he had no intention of allowing you to vanish like in that dream again.

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Waves crashed onto the shore in regular rhythms. The twisted moon overhead sent a feeble light into the sea, engulfing the two little figures standing by it. The water had reached their knees, and the two were leisurely dancing together.

Spinning. Around and around. Magically shimmering water droplets continued to soar high with each stride. You smiled pleasantly at him. That night, you became his bride.

The celebration was over. Only the two of you remained together, from now until eternity. You were so beautiful, so perfect. Your love for him was as pure as your smile.

And he should have felt happy.

He should have, because after all, he had got you and this perfect ending. But was this really the end?

He gazed at you with melancholy eyes. You smiled heartily as you whirled around. Sea water surged up high, bathing your entire body in a vivid crimson color. The entire water surface became the color of blood.

You were still dancing, as if the pungent odor of death gave you delight. You were immersed in blood when he gazed at you. Hatred was the only thing burning in his heart at that time.

You swayed a little farther, then turned towards him. Your arms stretched out as you called affectionately:

“Rafayel! Hurry. Come with me!”

He moved closer. He was strolling through a pool of blood from his own kind. Lemurian blood was dispersed over the waters.

Unbeknownst to you, as you turned your back on Rafayel, one of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other brandishing a knife.

“I like this place. Can we stay here forever?” You said, as if you didn't care about the blood gushing at your feet.

"Alright." Rafayel replied in a cold voice. “If you like it here, we'll stay.”

You leaned your head back with joy, resting on his chest. You were so little, yet you had a powerful heart. So gorgeous. He only wanted to strangle it, tear it out of your chest, and toss it into the deep sea.

He wanted you to pay the price.

You closed your eyes and hummed the melody he once sang for you. How foolish of him! He had given you everything—his love, his life, his whole kingdom... Everything was ruined by your hands.

Now, he shall take it all back.

Rafayel raised your chin and let you stare at him for a long while. You were smiling still. But he swung the sharp blade high, plunging into your heart.

In your eyes was terror and agony. Tears streamed from the corners of your eyes, but he still held your chin in his palm, making you unable to look away as his other hand forced the hilt of the dagger, deeper into your heart.

“Rafayel… Why… Why?…”

That was all you could say before the vivid red blood from your heart spread to his palm, spilling into the sea and merging with the blood of the Lemurians.

He should have been satisfied. He should have been thrilled since he carried out his vengeance.

But he simply felt broken.

When he tossed your lifeless corpse into the water, it seemed like he had died too that very moment.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Rafayel!!!… Stop… I can't… breathe… Rafayel!…”

You pinched Rafayel's cheek hard; he was sleeping on your chest. His weight prevented you from breathing normally. The ache awoke him. White pearls dropped from the corners of his eyes.

“Rafayel?…”

You frowned and watched him slowly rose up, both hands resting on your pillow. When he lowered his head, the radiant pearls continued to rain on your face and the bed.

“Hey… What's wrong?” You lifted your hands to caress his cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

“I… just had a nightmare…”

Rafayel gasped. It must have been a really horrific nightmare to make him this way. He fell asleep, his body was all over you, and then he started weeping. You had never seen him like this, and it concerned you.

"What did you dream about?" Your arms curled around Rafayel's neck, bringing him closer. He hesitated, as if he didn't want you to know, then revealed:

“In my dream, I had to kill the person I loved.”

Silence filled the room. The sky over your head was twinkling with stars. Rafayel's bedroom was filled with the lovely sound of the sea. You rubbed your face into the crook of his neck and murmured:

“I trust Rafayel will never harm me.”

“Are you sure? Even I don't know... The person in the dream... It's not me..."

"That's right." You rubbed his sweaty back. “That person is definitely not you. You know, people say dreams are the opposite of reality. What you saw will not happen.”

Rafayel was calmer, however, you still felt his body trembling in your arms.

“I won't allow that to happen…” He replied. “Having to end the life of the person I love… It is far more painful than being stabbed in the heart by that same person…”

“Rafayel.” You said in a serious tone. You held Rafayel's face with both hands, forcing him to look at you. His hair was tangled, and pearls were no longer pouring from his eyes, but they remained red. “I don't know what will happen in the future, but as long as I still breathe, I will never hurt you.”

Rafayel gazed at you for a time before gently smiling. “That's a promise between the two of us then.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

“Zayne… So cold… I'm… so cold…”

Zayne helped you up, quickly wrapping his thick coat around you. His hands stroked your body repeatedly to keep you warm. But you were growing colder. Your breath slowly escaped your body as the sorrow smothered his heart

“No… Wake up… Don't sleep! Please!… Don't sleep now…”

Zayne's scarred and bloody hand clumsily held on to you. So tight. He wanted to give you all his warmth. But did he even have any warmth left?

“It's useless.”

The voice sounded as if it had just escaped his mind. Zayne turned around. Behind him stood Grim Reaper, another Zayne dressed in a cloak as black as the night. Cold and cruel.

“You know you can't save her.”

"Shut up!" Zayne's shouts resonated across the wind and snow. He would never leave you alone in this cold.

Yet Grim Reaper's voice still echoed:

“You know why she died.”

Trembling, Zayne gradually dropped his gaze to the girl in his arms. In the center of your chest, bright, sharp pieces of ice were developing more and more.

"No… NO!" Zayne screamed. His palm touched the shards, causing them to tear into his skin. Bleeding. “I will save her! I must save her!”

He breathed into your numbed hand. But the more he touched you, the greater the ice formed around your body.

“Give up.” Grim Reaper spoke again. Zayne ignored him, despite the fact that they looked absolutely the same.

Nightmare. He had always been his nightmare. Perhaps in another universe, he was the Grim Reaper. And he felt like he was progressively becoming the Grim Reaper as you left this life, leaving him behind.

“Stay with me, please… Open your eyes and look at me….” Zayne begged over her corpse. His tears turned into drops of ice. They fell onto your body and shattered.

You could no longer hear his cries.

"You cannot save her." Grim Reaper said. He was bending down on one knee beside you, on the other side of Zayne. His hand in the black glove brushed across your frost-covered face, as if he, too, was in grief. "After all, you cannot save yourself."

"Leave!" Zayne yelled in rage and suffering. His embrace of you became more intense, as if he wanted to take you away from Grim Reaper's reach. He grinned with bitterness.

"Remember. You are the one who killed her.”

Zayne shook his head, repeatedly. Everything in front of his eyes drifted away. Grim Reaper also vanished. There were only you and him remaining.

He had murdered you.

You and he promised to get through this together. He would save your dying heart, and you would help him in his escape from the curse of his Evol. It was a curse. He was unable to control it, and there came calamity.

Help you? No, he was not your savior. He was your death.

Zayne heard Grim Reaper's laugh - his own laugh - echoing in his thoughts. Cruel yet full of bitterness.

The snowstorm came, but it could not bury his sin and regrets.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When you came into Dr. Zayne's office during lunch break, you noticed the temperature was unusually low.

You discovered Zayne asleep on the sofa. His body trembled, he broke out in a cold sweat, and his mouth moved without any word heard. You even caught a tear falling from the corner of his eye.

“Zayne? Are you having a nightmare?” You shook him by the shoulders. His entire body felt freezing. The nearest window was covered in frost. You started to panic. But no matter how you attempted to rouse him up, he failed to hear you.

You had to sit on the sofa, placing his head on your lap. You caressed his hair, patted his shoulders and head while comforting him:

"It's alright. I'm here with you… You will be fine…”

After a while, his quiver stopped. His eyes opened slowly. He found you.

“…”

Zayne's hand reached out towards you and then stopped halfway. He was about to touch you but hesitated. Seeing that, you clasped your hand with his.

"What's wrong? Doctor Zayne is experiencing nightmares from overwork, isn't he?"

You smiled. So gentle. That warm beam seemed to calm him down. Zayne's respiration and pulse rate eventually returned to normal. He replied:

“Yeah… My apologies for causing you to worry again.”

When he recognized your cold hand, he became fully awake. He rapidly gained control of his Evol, and the room warmed up to some extent.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. Much better now.”

Zayne's eyes were still red. He wanted to sit up, but you kept him in your lap for a while longer.

“Lunch break is still long. You can sleep for a bit longer. I will stay here to watch over your sleep.” You declared out loud, as if you were his little defender.

This made Zayne quite happier. He grinned and replied:

“You are always the one who guides me out of nightmares. No matter how bad it gets, I know you will come to my rescue.”

"That's right. Now you can sleep soundly.”

Zayne slowly closed his eyes. He was unsure if he could sleep again after that nightmare. But having you by his side made him feel more at peace. Your fingers squeezed his hand. Your warmth enveloped him. You were alive and well. He still had time to save you, to save himself.

Knowing that made him feel a lot more assured. When you placed a kiss on his forehead, he was ready to face all of the nightmares to come.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

When Xavier returned to Philos, he did so as a traitor.

He gambled with fate, and lost everything. Honor. Freedom. Love. There was nothing left for him when he returned.

His fleet had crossed countless light years, to innumerable realms out there. But what he was looking for was just an illusion.

And suddenly his entire existence became a curse.

To lose his freedom, to lose the love of his life for eternity. Was that the price to pay for opposing destiny?

In the dark corner of the room, Xavier knelt on the cold stone floor. He could not move, nor speak unless granted permission.

He quietly observed the girl he loved in the garden on the other side of the door. The warm sunshine tenderly casted a lovely aura over your body. Your grin shone brighter than the myriad of flowers in the yard. How many times did Xavier want to approach you, call your name, and touch you? But he could not.

Every time he came close to you, the crimson chain around his neck tightened. It did not murder him, but it was painful and debilitating enough. All he could do was stare at you holding hands with an unknown person. Someone with a physique similar to his.

That man was the King, you were his Queen. And Xavier was nothing but a sinner, a tool to be used, a killing machine. All for you. He would do everything for you, but you were no longer his lover.

You failed to recognize him. You were no longer the same as before. Since the person he truly loved was dead.

She was once a Queen. He had vowed to be the Knight standing beside her. But he left her alone on the cold throne. She died and was reborn, again and again. How many times had his love died before he came back?

The girl in front of him now had no memory of those lives anymore. It was a blessing. For you would no longer have to cry over the treachery you believed he had committed on you.

His only wish was to save you; to save the girl he loved from the spiral of death and rebirth. But when he tried to cut off your chains, he, too, was bound by another curse.

He watched you die and come back in another life. As many times as you sat on that throne, he became a slave at your feet, and as many times as he witnessed your death. He could not do anything else, not even scream and weep.

For, he had been cursed since the day he left you alone.

“Xavier… Save me… I don't want… to die…”

He stared down at your body, which was securely tied to the stone table. Trembling. His Queen begged him. Xavier was shrouded in black. The chain around his neck became tighter.

“Do it, Xavier! Stop wasting time!”

The crowd behind urged him. Xavier's palm clenched on the shiny hilt of his sword.

“No… Xavier… Please!…”

“The sacrifice must be completed! Do not forget your duty as Philos' royalty, Xavier! Do not forget how you betrayed us and what punishment you must endure!”

Xavier closed his eyes tightly. You and him, you could never escape this fate. He raised his sword, once more. He ended your torment, for another life.

Yet, his suffering would never cease.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Xavier awoke with tight agony in his neck and chest. His pillow was drenched from weeping. He heard your frightened voice repeating in his ears:

"Oh dear! You have a high fever!”

Through tears, he watched you climb out of bed. You were going to go fetch him a damp towel and medication. But he pulled you back. He wrapped you securely in his arms.

“X-Xavier? How are you feeling? You scared me?…”

“Sorry… I'm really sorry…”

He continued muttering like that. You began to suspect that his apology was not for waking you up in the middle of the night screaming, or that he was hugging you so tightly that you were suffocating. Was there anything else going on?

"Did you have a nightmare?" You questioned as you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his neck and back.

Xavier responded with a gentle "yeah". He eased his hold slightly to allow you to breathe. But seeing his condition, you couldn't help but worry.

"You have a fever." You mentioned it again. "Let me get medicine for you…"

“Stay with me!” Xavier spoke, almost like a grumble. It startled you. His arm was draped around your torso, and his other hand gripped your wrist firmly. Xavier dropped his voice, recognizing he was becoming overly emotional: "Please... Just stay here a little longer..."

“Alright… I'm here…” You comforted Xavier. You cared about nothing other than his mental turmoil. But you believed he would feel better, and when he was ready, he would tell you everything.

A moment later, when he had calmed down, Xavier said:

“I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you sad or worried…”

"It's fine. I just want you to know that I will always be by your side… Besides, we also have Galaxy Kid, Bunbun and these plushies..."

Both Xavier and you gazed at your plushie-filled bed. He grinned faintly, as if he was finally at ease. You added

“We'll get through everything together, okay?”

For a moment, Xavier said nothing. He just tilted his head slightly to look at you closely. His hand caressed your face as if you were a treasure he once lost, then found.

“Of course. We will get through everything together. Definitely…” His voice trailed off as he fell into a hazy condition caused by the fever in the middle of the night. “This time… I won't let you face it… alone…”

[misc-obeyme]

cc. your tags on the boudoir post. MAMMON recieving an album of those photos. i'd love to hear your thoughts on his reaction (and everyone else's, if you're feeling particularly inspired?)

Ah, Daisy, my dear, thank you for asking!

I apologize for this late response, but I knew I was gonna be getting wordy with this one. Because I looove the boudoir photos idea in general and OH MAN just thinking about all their reactions is making me crazy lol. I was going to just do my regular sort of response, but this turned into full on headcanons oops.

So just in case anyone missed it, here is the original post!

My thoughts change a little bit depending on whether MC is present when the characters receive the pictures, so I included both! I only did the bros but I might be willing to do the rest upon request!

the brothers react to MC giving them an album of boudoir photos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: suggestive but that's about it, nothing explicit

Lucifer

When you're with him, Lucifer is calm and courteous, but with a flare of arrogance. Of course you would give him such a special gift. It's only natural that you would trust such intimacies to him.

He asks you if you're trying to tell him something. Has he perhaps been neglecting you, MC? Did you give him this so that he wouldn't be able to help himself? He's onto you.

No matter your reason, he can't look through too many of the pictures before wanting the real thing that's sitting right next to him. Tell him you still have some of that lingerie in your possession. Especially if you happen to have some in his colors.

If you aren't with him, he's going to be a lot less arrogant in general. He will find you later, make no mistake. But he's honestly so touched by your gift that he spends a lot of time looking through the album, simply admiring you.

Mammon

Mammon is freaking out no matter where you are the time. If you're with him, it's definitely a lot worse. Blushing profusely. Opens the album then slams it shut because he can't handle looking at it for very long.

You can't help but giggle at his reaction and then it's all stop laughin' at him MC!! You'll need to take his hands or maybe kiss his cheek, let him know that you genuinely just wanted to give him a nice gift, you aren't trying to tease him or anything.

Ask him if he likes it. You'll get a serious response. Calms down enough to say 'course he likes it. Likes it so much, he suddenly can't keep his hands off you.

If you aren't with him at the time, he buries it under his pillow or otherwise hides it because this is now one of his treasures and nobody gets to see it but him!

Leviathan

Levi is another one who'd be a blushing mess no matter what, but if you're there at the time, he might retreat to his room and not let you in. He needs that barrier between you because if he sees you right now, his heart will explode.

He'll let you back in eventually, but it might be a minute. He needs to calm down. Are you trying to kill him, MC?! Even when he does let you in, he can't look at you directly. He's probably covering his face with his hands.

Reassure him that you gave these photos to him because you trust him with them. They're personal, intimate, and you want him to be close to you. He's going to calm down the more you talk to him. Pull his hands away from his face and when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, it flips a switch. Might even slip into demon form just to wrap his tail around you possessively.

If you're not with him at the time, he's going to need to take care of that raging boner of his right away. He won't be able to focus on anything else until he does. He's so embarrassed, he has to watch several episodes of Ruri Hana to recalibrate.

Satan

He will try to keep his expression unreadable. He's not having any over the top reactions, but as he flips through the photos, he keeps getting redder and redder. You're sitting right next to him, how can he not react? At some point, he has to close the album because he feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't.

Satan is quiet about how flustered he is, but he's having a hard time looking at you. He tries to say something and incomprehensible lines about how beautiful you are fall from his lips. He sounds like a broken record of spoken word poetry or perhaps a very drunk beat poet.

Recovers himself after a minute. As soon as he's composed, you're in his arms. You knew what this would do to him, didn't you, MC? You'll find yourself pressed up against the nearest wall in moments.

If you're not with him, Satan will tuck your album into a stack of his other books. He thinks it's well hidden there - in plain sight. But he's hyper aware of it. Keeps coming back to look at it. Ends up having to put it on the bottom of a stack behind a different stack to make it more difficult to get to.

Asmodeus

Thrilled. Absolutely thrilled in every way. Oh, wow, MC, you look amazing. He's breathless. He's entranced. He's even blushing because he knows what it means that you've given these to him. He's so in love with you, he can't stand it.

Asks you about everything you may be wearing. Comments on the skill of the photographer. Tells you that next time, you should do one together. He has so many ideas. He wants to do one where all you're wearing is jewelry - bright and sparkling, just like your soul.

Covers you in kisses. He's not shy about how this is making him feel, how much he wants you. He just wants to see your beautiful figure here and now in real life, MC! Won't you let him worship you?

If you're not with him, he will find you immediately so he can say all of the things he needs to say in that moment. You can't leave him alone with all these feelings, both physical and emotional. He brings them all to you without hesitating.

Beelzebub

It might take him a minute to understand exactly what he's looking at, mostly because he's never even heard of this. He doesn't know what a boudoir photo shoot is, so you might have to explain it to him. Once he understands, he starts lightly blushing as he looks through them. His expression is serious because he's beginning to see just how special this is.

Honestly surprised that you would give him something so intimate. He's touched. He's going to hug it to himself and look at you with tears in his eyes because he can't believe how lucky he is.

Give him another couple minutes to look through them and then he's having different feelings. He's not sure if he can hold back, MC. Tell him it's okay, that you don't want him to, and you'll find yourself on your back on his bed in zero seconds flat. You're quickly reminded why he's the Avatar of Gluttony.

If you're not with him at the time, he will figure things out on his own, though he'll have a plethora of questions for you later. He keeps it close to him at all times until you answer them because he knows one thing for sure - he doesn't want anyone else seeing these.

Belphegor

Oh, he sees what you're playing at. Trying to fluster him, are you, MC? Trying to rile him up? Are you sure you can handle him when you do that? He's so wound up by the gift he can't act normal about it. He's actually very touched by it, but he's not sure how to deal with the feelings, so he comes on too strong.

You laugh because to you, this is expected. You understand that this is Belphie's way of dealing with his own shyness. You respond by meeting him with just as much intensity. It's all kisses and touching and fumbling in the dark.

It's only later, when both of you are calm, when you're nestled in his arms, that he admits to you how much it means to him. That he tells you how he'll cherish the album you gave him. That he says he's stunned by how gorgeous you are, even more brilliant that the stars in the sky.

If you aren't with him at the time, you'll be dealing with a petulant but horny demon later on. He's going to be annoyed at you for leaving it for him and then not being there when it inevitably turns him on. Just as possessive as his brothers, he hides it in the attic where no one is likely to find it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[palmanatomy]

Again, no one asked for this but here's another fic rec because people liked the last two and my brain has been filled with these fics and I will explode if I don't get them out.

The Babysitting Job by pornosophical is a beautiful slow burn Timkon fic that is just so accurate to their characters and portrays their relationship in such a beautiful way. I love it and I love all the supporting characters that are involved in it. Basically, Tim was planning on coming out to Kon when Steph asks him to fill in for her in babysitting Manhunter's son, so Kon helps out. It's beautiful and I love it.

I already recommended Nights and Days by malcyon, but A Saturday Evening is a beautiful, established relationship Timkon as a part of that series about Tim meeting Ma and Pa Kent. The characterisation of everyone is so on point and their relationships are all so accurate. I love how malcyon writes Tim and Kon and it just makes me so happy reading them being happy. And I love Ma and Pa Kent and people need to write more old people romance.

I was shocked to see there are like three fics about Serling Roquette in her tag because tbh I thought everyones mind just revolved around the funky side characters in my favourite comic runs. Anyway, more lovely and more temperate by merils is beautiful and amazing and so well written just like everything else they write. Serling Roquette moves to San Francisco and runs into an old friend, making two new ones in the process. Kon and Serling are long overdue for a reunion in comics and ugh, this fic just does both characters such justice. If I could recommend every fic by merils I would.

The Wind Sits in the Shoulder of Your Sail by BirdChild focusses on Tim and Bruces relationship post adoption in like the later issues of Robin 1993. I just love how it shows the complexities of the relationships in Tims life and the rational rightous anger that Tim feels but comes out at the wrong time. Like how everyone argues with their parent over something that seems stupid and evolves into a bigger argument when they're a teenager. Its just so real. I love it. It also has a little bit of comic accurate Timsteph (YAY) and addresses the complex relationship that Tim has with grief and, y'know, losing his gf and everyone he loves in a few months. I love it.

This ones my favourite rare pair and it makes me so happy to see that people have actually wrote fics about them instead of them just living in my head. Anyway, Thats How the Light Gets In by poisonivory is just. incredible. Its a bombcat fic about Grant Emerson and his relationships with a lot of people, mainly focussing on his one with Tommy Bronson, my favourite catboy. It's so beautiful and it just makes me so happy to see these obscure character that no one seems to talk about anymore be done justice. If you've never heard of these characters before, read Damage 1994 (lowkey a dumpster fire), Titans 1999 (amazing) and Justice Society 2007 (way too many characters but incredible but also half the time you actually have no idea what's happening because theres too many characters. justice society is what the justice league wishes they were and they are family goals) Another fic that's a little darker (also has some smut) is free time and a long spine by shenanigans which just gives Grant so much justice i love my angry human bomb ugh. Any fic by poisonivory or shenanigans is just amazing and i'd highly recommend reading.

Finally, hit me like lightning by cissiecassie is THE koncassie fic that just encapsulates the energy that they project in the comics. I could write an essay on how kon and cassies relationship and how it represents insecurity surrounding sexuality on both parts but i won't because i would bore you to death. Just the way that both of them are written in this is so amazing and Cassie's valley girl speech pattern is just so important to me and I'm happy someone included it. Kon and Cassie are both just so repressed gay man and lesbian woman and I love it.

That's all for now, I hope you guys enjoy these as much as I did and make sure you give these writers all the love that they deserve.

[thespiritbee]

OMG THAT'S MY OC!! :DD

Some facts about them because I'm so Normal after seeing this drawing-

His name is End and he's just a silly Deity of Shapeshifting and they also go by he/they/it

They're Omniromantic and Demisexual because yes, and hes just a silly nonbinary fella

Its 10ft tall!

They are so so tramatized silly

It has fangs!!

They are the type to tackle people into blankets

His purple eye's pupil changes depending on their emotion :]

They are, in fact, immortal but they get attached to people too easily (They've been around since the Sumerians time period-)

Its tears are golden, like pure liquid gold (People took advantage of this when he was just a young fella :(()

His four moods are a lot like The Theme From The Amazing Digital Circus, La Da Dee, Wrecking Ball (But in a sad way yknow), and Hidden in The Sand

More facts in the tags!!

A bit ago I drew an OC for a friend and I still sit here questioning how I was able to create it. I just.. THE COLORSSSSSSSSSS