#The Soul Reminiscence MC

[anxietytwist]

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐥'𝐡𝐚𝐢

[ 𝟸𝟻 | 𝟼'𝟸" | Agender | Queer | ❤︎𝐌𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 ]

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⧼Style⧽

𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙧

Chin-length, curly, & brown

𝙁𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙤𝙣

Shirt & trousers

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⧼Notes⧽

ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ➙ They/Them ʙᴜɪʟᴅ➙ 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ➙ Cuts down their forearms to wrists ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ➙ Psychokinesis & Psychometry ʜᴏʙʙʏ/ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴ➙ Plushies 🧸

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧 wears a binder (which they've been able to replicate, & improve upon, in this new world due to their ability) 🏳️‍⚧️

Their hair started greying after the trauma of finding every member of their family brutality slaughtered

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧 was absolutely livid when they woke up after achieving their goal & finally getting to die (how dare the universe prolong their suffering in a new world where none of their friends know them)

While the scars on their forearms are “work” related, those found closer to their wrists were all self-inflicted 😔

Because of the dystopian world they grew up in, 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧 has always been interested in soft toys (+ they never had any as a child)

...

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧 means “𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑑” (Latin)

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𝐼𝐹: @lilac-den

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Picrew used:

[cegiel-athelia]

In This Lifetime

(a Love and Deepspace fanfic featuring Zayne)

Genre: Fluff mostly. Hints of intimacy.

I reckon that based on his head cannon, Zayne would be hesitant to get MC pregnant in light of her heart condition, especially since he is her doctor. So I wanted to write about it — about the conversation that they would have had.

I haven’t written a fanfic in years. Who knows whether I may start again. But this is all I have, for now.

I did my best to stay true to the storyline and memories.

I hope that this will be a pleasant read.

====================================

Lying in bed, you gazed at the man peacefully sleeping next to you on the right side of the bed — his preferred side, the glow of the moonlight that seeped through the curtains gently bounced off his dark hair. Zayne’s fingers were interlaced with yours and he held it close to him as he slept, his frame rising and falling quietly as he breathed. His eyelashes cast long shadows on his face. He was beautiful in both body and soul.

Tonight was one of the few nights you both were able to spend a full night together. Such were the demands of his job. You did not want to so much as move lest you wake him. His sleep was mostly deep in short stints, yet light since his body was attuned to be ready on call at any given moment.

You reminisced about the time when you first met him — he was so little then, as you were too — and how he ‘fixed’ your melting popsicle with his evol so that you could be happy again, and you were. You recalled him speaking of this once when you were dating, although you acted as if you could not remember the event only so that you could hear it from his point of view. The manner in which he spoke of it made your heart blossom with love for him. You wanted so much to return the love he gave, which has been consistently genuine and magnanimous. It was only natural that you would fall so deeply in love with him.

It has been three years since you married him and everyday with him was a blessing. Earlier during this night, he was passionate — he usually was, but more so tonight and it was probably because you.

See, Zayne was innately caring as a person, but it was also an occupational hazard. You knew he wanted to live a full life with you as you too wanted it with him. Before tonight, he was always cautious to protect you during intimacy. His concern stemmed mostly from your heart condition, and the rest of it was because you had not yet expressed that you were prepared to be with child — until tonight.

Your mind wandered back to the conversation you had and you remembered feeling bashful as you called out his name between his heated kisses to draw his attention. When his eyes, glazed with desire met yours, your cheeks flared causing you to involuntarily look away. You were secretly glad that the darkness of the bedroom hid your reddening cheeks from his view. Still, he was not impatient with you and waited for you to continue.

You steeled your nerves as you uttered, “Zayne.. I..” You paused to glance at him, but his gaze was too intense for you to maintain eye contact. Looking downwards, your fingers gently gripped his shoulder for support as you continued between pauses, “I.. wanna start a family with you.”

His silence unnerved you and you looked to him again, searching for an indication in his expression, but he was hard to read.

Uncertainty and doubt started to cloud your mind. Maybe you had been wrong about him wanting a family seeing as he was lonely in his childhood.

Almost failing to mask the disappointment in your voice, you murmured, “Only if you want—“

“I want it.” He said before you could finish your sentence. Taking your hand in his, he pressed it to his heart, and your evol autonomously resonated with it, revealing his quickening heartbeat. “All I have ever wanted was to share a life with you and you have made that wish finally come true. For that, I am eternally grateful.” He pressed his lips onto your forehead in a long gentle kiss before meeting your eyes again.

“I researched.” This time it was him who looked away, voice trailing off. He had effectively confessed that he was of the same mind — that he wanted you to bear his child.

You smiled as you concocted several lines that would possibly tease him, but you said nothing so that he could continue.

“Whilst yours is a unique condition, there is no known study to evidence that pregnancy would adversely affect a heart condition as long as you remain disciplined in taking your medication in consultation with both the obstetrician and your primary care physician.” It was dark but you could tell he was smirking when he referred to himself.

“Yes, Dr. Zayne. I trust that you would’ve conducted research on how best to impregnate your wife.” You smirked while drawing your lips closer to his, ensuring that he felt the heat of your exhalation on his skin. With a lilt, you breathed, “I leave myself, and my body, in your good and incredibly strong hands.”

The conversation ended and a sensual dance of bodies took center stage. It was a night you would remember.

A smile found its way onto your lips as you lovingly gazed at your husband in recollection of the night’s events. You unconsciously stroke his hand that was holding yours with your thumb, which caused the man to stir and sleepy eyes met yours.

Leaning over to brush his fringe from his forehead, you whispered, “I’ll love you in every lifetime.”

[astrocafecoffee]

Synastry observation ( part 1) 🎐

✨ For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

Let's go!

🍓 Eros conjunct karma :

intense attraction with karmic undertones, powerful sexual chemistry, higher purpose in terms of fulfilling karmic contracts or agreements made in past live.

🍓 Boda in 10th house overlays:

Partnership/ marriage with this person is somehow in public eye. Your person's connections or involvement in certain industry may open up career opportunities or avenues for professional growth for you.

🍓 Anteros ( 1943) conjunct Boda and briede asteroid:

Anteros is related to unrequited love. This alignment invites both partners to confront any unresolved issues stemming from past experiences of unrequited love, fostering open communication and understanding to heal emotional wounds and strengthen bond between them. Both partners may share a vision of building a life together.

🍓 Boda conjunct saturn :

Long term planning and future goals within the relationship. Strong desire for stability and permanence , especially in the context of partnership/ marriage.

🍓 POF in 10th house overlays:

Again public attention/ growth opportunities in career after you marry/ date that person.

🍓 IC in 1st house overlay:

This person's home and family dynamics play a significant role in shaping your perception of self. You may find that your own identity is intertwined with their family background or domestic environment in some way.

🍓 MC in 7th house overlays :

Same , public recognition in the relationship.

🍓 Amor (1221) conjunct nn :

Profound soul connection between both of you. This relationship may have been destined or fated to occur in this lifetime. Meant to meet. Amor's influence indicates a deep and unconditional love between both of you. Soulmate indicator.

🍓 Union ( 1585) conjunct moon :

Strong emphasis on empathy, compassion and understanding within your relationship. This partnership feels like home to both of you.

🍓 stellium in 6th house:

It's so underrated, 6th house stellium is in important in romantic synastry , as your partner may encourage you to adapt healthy habits in your daily life.

🍓 Juno conjunct Jupiter:

Marriage placement., As in Roman mythology juno is considered as the wife of Jupiter ( the Roman equivalent of Zeus in Greek mythology) .

🍓 Born ( 13954) conjunct nn :

Fated encounter. You are meant to support each other on your respective paths of growth and evolution.

🍓 lisitsa ( 8064) conjunct juno:

Again fated , long-term commitment/ marriage., Karmic bond.

🍓 Bacchus ( 2063)conjunct Bacchus:

Strong mutual attraction between partners, often characterized by a magnetic pull and deep appreciation for each other's physicality.

🍓 Pythia(432) in 7th house synastry :

Intuitive fated connection. They may share common interest in mystical or esoteric subjects and may engage in spiritual practices together to deepen their bond and connection.

🍓 Pythia conjunct Hera ( 103) :

Divinely guided relationship, this conjunction suggests this is a relationship that honours tradition and values long term commitment. Both individuals may feel a strong sense of loyalty and dedication to each other.

🍓 Moon in 4th house synastry:

Deep emotional connection, moon person feels comfortable and secure when with the house person, perhaps tapping into a sense of familiarity and safety reminiscent of their own childhood environment.

🍓 Juno conjunct Chiron :

Both individuals may share similar wounds or vulnerabilities in the realm of partnership. They may understand each other's pain and struggles on a deep level , which can foster empathy and compassion within the relationship ( healing through partnership)

🍓 Groom(5129) square briede(19029) :

Despite the challenges/ disagreements/ conflicting desires this aspect presents an opportunity for growth and understanding within the relationship. By addressing and working through the areas and conflict or tension, the couple can deepen their connection and strengthen their partnership over time.

🍓 Karma (3811) conjunct descendant:

Both the individuals may feel a strong sense of destiny or fate drawing them together in a partnership or relationship. They might believe that their meeting was predestined or that they have important karmic lessons to learn from each other.

🍓 Moon conjunct saturn:

This aspect can indicate a strong sense of responsibility and commitment between the individuals. But there may be a tendency for both individuals to hold back their feelings or to approach emotional matters with caution and reserve.

🍓 Groom in 1st house synastry:

It suggests that your partner may identify strongly with the role of the groom or husband in your relationship.they may see themselves as a partner who takes on traditional husbandly roles or embodies qualities that you associate with the concept of a groom.

🍓 Cupido (763) conjunct nn :

Fated , strong emotional alignment, transformative and potentially life changing love connection/ karmic lessons in love.

🍓 Sappho (80) in 12th house synastry:

Intuitive understanding or unspoken connection between partners, there may be a sense of yearning or longing for an idealised romantic Union that exists beyond the constrains of the physical world.

🍓 Lust(4386) on 1st house synastry:

Passionate and dynamic connection between partners characterized by intense physical attraction ,sexual energy, and a strong focus on the physical aspects of the relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

( post based on poll)

End......

Thank you!!

~piko 🌹

[pocketjoong]

❥𓂃𓏧WHAT IS A SOULMATE?

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You and Seonghwa go on a trip across Europe and you use this as an excuse to make a little birthday video for him. But on the day of his birthday, Seonghwa feels nothing but grief as he watches the video you made for him.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!Seonghwa x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. angst. meet-cute. nsfw.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) NSFW! MINORS DNI. oral. fingering. unprotected sex (it’s a big no guys, please use protection and stay safe). pet names (mc is called dove). mentions of food. allusions to and mentions of a serious accident. angst. fluff.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 4.3k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) @pyeonghongrie-main :) Here's the promised reupload hehehe

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London

Outside the confines of your hotel room, silence blankets the city much like the fog that hangs overhead. The first light of dawn is yet to break through the ink-black sky as the metropolis cradles its inhabitants in the silence of the night. This part of the city is still asleep, each soul embraced by the arms of Morpheus, awaiting daybreak to rouse them from their slumber.

Your gaze fixates on the horizon from between the sheer curtains. A pang of anticipation stirs within you, for out of all the alluring sights of nature, sunrise has always been your favourite. After all, regardless of wherever you are in the world, the sunrise is the only constant in the transient nature of life.

Today, however, as the dark black of the night fades to inky blue and splashes of pinks and purples bloom in the east, the only sight you focus on are his eyes. Seonghwa’s eyes are brighter than any galaxy and softer than the cherry blossoms that have begun blossoming on the tree just beyond the terrace. In that moment, you are happy to forego the sight of the beautiful sunrise to watch the coffee and hazel in his eyes melt to form the most gorgeous shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

It won’t be an exaggeration to say that sometimes, you feel like all of your life—each second, each breath, and each step—amounts to Seonghwa. Every decision you have ever made has been a stepping stone in your journey to meet him that one day six years ago when he was only a trainee.

Close to dawn, you had been wandering through the streets of Seoul to find a spark of inspiration for your first-ever project as a photography major. You knew  you wanted to play with the idea of light and dark meeting together to form the most beautiful of sights, and what was a better time to do so than twilight?

So there you were, braving the winter chill for a decent grade while your friends were sleeping soundly, snuggled up in their warm beds.

But it seemed that fate had other plans for you that morning. You took a sip of the coffee you’d bought from the only cafe open at this ungodly hour, forgetting for a moment that it was piping hot. With a wince, you glared at the beige paper cup as if the liquid energy had personally done something to spite you.

A snicker caught your attention, and you turned around to narrow your eyes at the person, only to freeze in your tracks. Wearing a brown, fuzzy coat coupled with dark skinny jeans, the male looked like an angel sent from heaven. The thought that he was a hallucination of your sleep-deprived and cold body crossed your mind, but you discarded the thought when he realised that you’d heard him, and he scrambled to apologise for laughing.

You didn’t know then, but your life was for him. And, it won’t be an exaggeration to say that your life is all him. As winter melted into spring and spring made way for summer, you fell in love with the colour brown: the lush cocoa of Seonghwa’s eyes, sweeter than any hot chocolate you could find, and the tan of his skin, reminiscent of the buttery sweetness of roasted chestnuts. As the weather became humid and the days turned longer, you didn’t even register the beginnings of love taking root in your heart.

It began slowly, like the dripping of water from a tap. Drop by drop, your heart filled with adoration for him. Starting with an appreciation for the awe with which he experienced the world as if doing so for the first time. Then, it became more serious: you found yourself yearning to be around him, to listen to him talk about anything and everything, to be the only one he’d think of as being worthy of his heart.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, you fell for his voice, a deep baritone with the consistency of honey that you couldn’t get enough of. And the best part? You got to hear it every day before sunrise, for that was his designated time for you in his busy schedule as a trainee and then later as an idol. Dawn was yours, had always been yours, and would always be yours as long as Seonghwa was beside you.

And so, without your knowledge, you fell in love with him bit by bit. You fell as if falling under a spell you couldn’t find a counter for. Not that you wanted to anyway, not when he was there to catch you.

A year later when spring arrived, love and hope sprouted in your heart when Seonghwa’s lips pressed against yours for the first time under the cherry blossoms. He etched himself into the deepest crevices of your soul and your heart. His touch was like that of the sun against your skin after a dark night, igniting your soul in a way that reminded you of fireworks. Under the light of dawn, as he kissed you, you learned a truth. Like the sunrise, Seonghwa is the only constant in your life.

“What are you thinking about?” His soft whisper pulls you out of your reminiscing, and you find yourself gazing into his wide eyes that are brimming with affection and curiosity.

Even after years of being with Seonghwa, the way he looks at you as if you are the one who hung the moon in the sky always floors you. Your skin tingles at the warmth and adoration in his gaze.

“You,” lost in way his thumb grazes against your waist, the word slips out of your lips without a second thought. You almost curse at yourself for being so taken with him when you see a devilish smirk pull at his lips.

“Is that so, my dove?” Chuckling, he lets himself get closer to you, if that’s even possible, considering how you’re basically pressed against him. His hands rise to cup your face, drawing you to his lips.

You lose yourself in the warmth of his mouth. His kisses are softer at first, but soon, his lips are moving insistently against yours. His teeth sink gently into your bottom lip, and he swallows the moan that leaves you almost hungrily. Seonghwa’s hand slides up the side of your body to slide your nightgown off you, exposing you to the chilly morning air.

He pulls back from you momentarily, the loss making you whine, but the protest dies in your throat when he gazes at you with nothing but love and adoration. In what little light filters through the sheer curtains, he looks ethereal with his glowing bronze skin. His dark hair is messy, and yet he manages to look as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a manhwa. As if knowing what’s going through your head, a soft smile pulls at his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he breathes, voice thick with sleep and desire.

“Like what?” You ask, your own hands finding purchase against his shoulders.

“Like I’m the damn sunrise.”

“You’re more breathtaking than any sunrise I’ve ever seen, Hwa,” you cradle his cheek in your palm, words ringing with sincerity as you gaze at your boyfriend.

Seonghwa ducks down at your words, hiding his face in your neck as you chuckle at the way he reacts to your compliment. Your amusement doesn’t last long, however, when he leans down further to lave his tongue against the marks his teeth had left against the column of your neck the night before. His teeth sink into your skin, cutting you off mid-laughter, while his palms come to cup your exposed breasts, and you find yourself arching into his touch. 

You watch Seonghwa descend the length of your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips can reach. His hands slither downwards, fingers digging into your thighs to spread your legs open for him. Bringing his mouth to your core, he smirks when you let out a broken moan, bucking into his mouth. Seoghwa keeps his eyes on you as he devours you.

“Hwa—” you choke back a moan, reaching for him with a trembling hand. You pull him to your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Want you. Please.”

“My beautiful dove.” Seonghwa breathes reverently. His hands are gentle against your waist, cradling you close to him while his lips trace their way up your jaw to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. 

As the sun rises over the Thames River, he ravishes you with a gentleness that feels like the first touch of warmth of the morning light.

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Madrid

“Are you recording me?” Seonghwa laughs, walking backwards on the sidewalk as you fumble with the camera—it’s heavier than what you’re used to—but you don’t mind because you’re more concerned about the quality of the video than anything else.

You can’t help but grin at the sight in front of you: Seonghwa in a beret and a long, dark coat that he has paired with jeans contrasts so well with the potted geraniums in front of the restaurant you had stopped to get breakfast at. The flowers herald the happiness blossoming in your chest at the sight of your lover glowing like the sun while surrounded by the the tell-tale signs of the approaching spring.

Seonghwa jokes that these flowers are blooming because it is his first time visiting Europe with you. You laugh off his silly comment, but in your heart of hearts, you can’t help but agree with him. It’s almost as if nature wants you to document the most beautiful sights while you record Seonghwa in the cities you are visiting.

Before you can answer him, something catches his eyes, and before you know it, he is dragging you to a toy store he has spotted on the other side of the road. His smile as he eagerly scours the store for something to buy reminds you of sunlight upon the tides, bright and blinding as the sun itself on the waves that lap gently at the shore.

Seonghwa makes his way to the sunglasses, trying on the goofiest ones, making you giggle. Encouraged by your laughter, he continues to make a fool of himself, pulling funny expressions for the camera and not caring if people are giving him funny looks. At one point, he tries the poison green alien sunglasses, and despite you laughing at how atrocious the design is, you can’t help but think how easily he can pull off even the most ridiculous of accessories with grace.

Behind him, you spot something that makes you gasp, and you rush to the shelves to grab one of the Toothless plushies. Turning around with purpose, you’re caught off guard by how close Seonghwa is, but you don’t let it faze you.

“Look, Hwa! I found you on the shelf,” you giggle at him, holding the plushie up so that it lines up with his face.

He rolls his eyes fondly, used to such jokes by the rest of ATEEZ and his fans. Despite that, he takes the plushie from your hands and puts it on his head, allowing you to capture him with ease. His touch is careful as he holds the plushie, similar to how he handles everything he lays his hands on. Delicate and light, he touches everything he comes across with care, and that’s one of the reasons you find him endearing—for he’s one of the few people who truly take the time to appreciate the beauty the world has to offer.

“If I’m Toothless, doesn’t that mean you’re my Light Fury?” You watch the way his eyes scan the shelves for something.

“I guess,” you shrug, chuckling as you help him in his search for a plushie of the said dragon.

“Do you think we should buy these?” Seonghwa asks, interrupting your search, and you turn to find him holding up the two plushies. He glances at the two stuffed toys—Toothless and the Light Fury—with his eyes furrowed as he weighs the pros and cons of buying both.

“You have multitudes of these back home, Hwa.” You remind him, in fact, he has so many plushies and figurines that he had to store some in your apartment because his manager had threatened that he would throw them out if he saw one more of the HTTYD-themed merch.

“But—”

“Hwa.”

“Fine, break my heart, why don’t you?” And with a pout, he places them back on the shelf reluctantly. You know he’s joking because when you gesture towards the plushies later on, he shakes his head with a smile.

Throughout the day, you explore the city with him, telling him everything you had learned about the places from the little tourist booklet you had snagged from the hotel that morning. He listens to you earnestly, watching you talk with a smile as admiration settles under his skin.

Later in the night, you find yourself in a cafe. Taking a deep breath, you inhale the scent of coffee that permeates your immediate surroundings. Since the cafe is basically empty at this time of the night, a sense of tranquillity surrounds you, much like the warm coat Seonghwa has draped over you. You watch late stragglers making their way home from their jobs through the window you’re seated against, hands curled against a warm cup of hazelnut latte.

“Dove,” Seonghwa’s quiet voice comes from next to you, causing you to snuggle into his shoulder, humming for him to continue. “Don’t fall asleep. We have to walk back to the hotel.”

“Shall we leave, then?” Stifling a yawn, you ask, causing him to nod.

He leads you out of the cafe, keeping his hand on your lower back as you walk through the sparsely populated streets. The very next moment, however, it begins to rain out of nowhere, and before you know it, you are being drenched in the downpour.

Seonghwa laughs in surprise but turns his face upwards to allow the raindrops to kiss his cheeks. Even though the world is blurred around you and your vision is warped by the drops in your eyes, you can still see him clearly. He basks in the rain, lets himself get drenched by the droplets cascading down his face, neck, and shoulders. The rain is so heavy that the raindrops make streams as they make their way down his body.

Watching him like this, you find yourself reaching out for him. As if on the same wavelength as you, Seonghwa takes your hand in his, lips curling up in a smile when you entangle your fingers with his. Reaching out, he cups your face gently, and it seems as if the world stops around you, your senses failing to register anything beyond his touch. Seonghwa trails his thumb along your lips, wiping the raindrops that have settled across your skin.

Drenched in the downpour with him, it’s easy to think of Seonghwa as the rain and yourself as the earth that craves rain after a dry spell.

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Seoul

The wallpaper drips with grief, mimicking the gloom that has taken root in his heart and doesn’t seem to want to leave. The glow of the streetlights filters through the windows and is the only source of light in his dark room. In the centre of the whirlpool of dread and darkness lies Seonghwa, curled up against the messy sheets he can’t bother to straighten.

The silence is uncanny. He’s not used to it—for years, he has shared a room with Hongjoong, and even though, more often than not, the younger male wasn’t actually there because he preferred the studio or the living room couch to the bedroom, the mere idea of sharing a room with someone always made him feel at ease. Hongjoong has been Seonghwa’s anchor in the years he roomed with him, but now alone in his room, the walls seem to press in around him like waves trying to drown him, leaving him breathless.

If Hongjoong is his anchor, you are his beacon, his guiding light, his polestar. And tonight, as his ship is battered by the biggest storm he’s ever faced, you aren’t here either. Desperately, he searches for something to ground him, but too many days and nights filled with sorrow and false optimism have built up and around him, crushing him with a weight he can’t handle anymore. When love wasn’t enough to save you, how can it be enough to help him stay afloat in the rough seas?

Outside of his room, spring touches everything with its delicate hands. For Seonghwa, however, winter still lingers, and the beautiful weather outside just irks him further. He hasn’t been in love for the last week, and even nature cannot revive him this time around. Without love in his heart, the only thing he feels is despair.

Even now, he can’t forget the way red painted his hands as you lay in his arms. Sometimes, when he squeezes his eyes shut hard enough, he can see your smile. In the very same moment, his heart opens and breaks when the image of you in his arms dances across his vision, and he dies again and again, bleeds until there’s only a shell left behind.

The beeping of his digital clock startles him. The digits read 00:00, distorted from the tears that line his lashes but never seem to fall. For a long time, he had thought today would make the pain bearable, but it persists, lingering in his heart and his room like stubborn rain clouds that linger even after the storm has passed. It is possible that you may not return to him, but he tries to remain optimistic. If he doesn’t believe you to be strong enough to fight for him, for your love, then who will? 

His phone dings, and he looks at the device for a moment. Each beep of his phone has, till now, started him into a sitting position, and every time, it has not what he expected. But foolishly, he still hopes for a miracle.

His phone dinging again with the custom notification he had set for you has Seonghwa scrambling to check his phone. It’s a scheduled email, but your name lighting up the screen renders him breathless. At the sight of your name, the storm raging around him quietens down, leaving him in calm seas. There’s a video attached with the email, and he clicks it open.

[Exterior. Mid-morning. Shots of the streets of London from a car. In the foreground, the text reads Happy Birthday, Seonghwa! A female’s voice is heard speaking in the voiceover.]

Y/N: What’s a soulmate?

[The camera pans and focuses on Seonghwa as he looks out of the window, pointing at all the things he remembers from the few times he has been there with ATEEZ for concerts.]

SH: And that’s the cafe Jongho liked a lot. He said the coffee there was amazing. We should definitely visit it after we’ve settled in hotel room, you look like you could do with some caffeine in your system.

Y/N: [laughing] Not everyone is used to sleeping in aeroplanes.

SH: [shaking his head, he sniffs as if wounded by your comments] Well, if you toured with me, you’d be used to it. You’re the only one who keeps declining when I ask you to come with me! My poor self has to live without you for months just because you won’t agree.

Y/N: Your idea of bringing me along includes you stuffing me into your suitcase. Sorry if I don’t want to be thrown around with the other luggage.

SH: [snorting] It’s your fault for being so small.

Y/N: [sighing] Whatever, Hwa.

[Midday. The video cuts to a shot of Seonghwa walking along the Thames river. He has his arms wrapped around himself. The sky is covered with fluffy clouds, and one can tell that spring is fast approaching with the way little green buds are seen on the trees in the background.]

Y/N: It’s a… Well, it’s like a best friend, but more.

SH: It’s so cold!

Y/N: Should we go and get something to warm us up from the cafe you pointed out earlier? I think it’s close to where we are right now.

[The video cuts to the two of you inside the cafe. The camera is placed on one side, allowing it to capture both Seonghwa and you. You’re laughing at Seonghwa, who took a sip from your iced americano and immediately made a face at the taste. The video skips a bit and Seonghwa can be seen humming along to the music from the speakers while you watch him, enraptured by his vocals.]

Y/N: It’s the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else.

[The video cuts again. This time, Seonghwa is in a hotel room, standing against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower and posing goofily while you are laughing in the background. He waddles over to the camera, forcing you to put it on the table as he twirls you around, dancing to a song he’s humming.]

Y/N: It’s someone who makes you a better person.

[The video cuts to a closeup of Seonghwa’s head in your lap as you sit on the couch. He’s sleeping soundly while you run your fingers through his soft hair. His lips quirk upwards in a smile, causing you to halt your motions, but a whine from him has you resuming your actions.]

Y/N: [soft whisper] Did I wake you up?

SH: [hums and shakes his head] Not really… [yawns] I wasn’t fully asleep.

[There’s silence for a while as Seonghwa shifts around to get comfortable.]

SH: I love you.

Y/N: That was so random, Hwa.

SH: Hey! You’re supposed to say you love me too!

Y/N: [snorting] I love you, you overgrown child.

SH: I’ll have you know that’s Wooyoung.

Y/N: Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll bite your arm off or something.

SH: [laughing hard]

Y/N: Actually, they don’t make you a better person, you do that yourself… because they inspire you.

[The video cuts to Seonghwa amidst the geraniums in Madrid before he drags you to the MINISO. His shenanigans from the store can be seen, with him wearing goofy sunglasses and playing with the Night Fury plushie.]

Y/N: A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever.

[Seonghwa can be seen busking with a guy playing the guitar. He sings Angel Baby by Troye Sivan, smiling wide when you start swaying one of your hands in beat with the music, causing people to follow your actions. When he’s done, people come up to him, telling him that he’s an amazing singer, and he thanks everyone with a bashful smile while watching you look at him with a look of pride on your face.]

Y/N: It’s the one person who knew you and accepted you… Believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. 

[Seonghwa excuses himself from the crowd and makes his way towards you, wrapping his arms around your frame and sways the two of you as the busker starts crooning a song in Danish.]

SH: Thank you for always believing in me, dove. Especially when I didn’t believe in myself.

Y/N: [smiling] I love you, and I’ll cheer you on, especially during the darkest days.

Y/N: And no matter what happens, you will always love them. 

[The camera pans to you in your editing studio, and you wave at the camera with a smile on your face.]

Y/N: It’s quite late [glancing at the clock on your desk], 3 a.m. to be precise, and I’m working on your birthday video. [Laughs] I hope you like this little video I put together with clips from our trip to Europe. Give me a call once you’re done watching this. I love you so much, Hwa! Happy Birthday, my star!

Y/N: Nothing can ever change that.

Seonghwa wipes his tears, sniffing as he gets up from the bed. With a meticulousness characteristic of him, he goes through the motions of dressing up to pay you a visit. That’s the only thing that seems to make sense, so with bleary eyes and heavy feet, he walks through the deserted streets of Seoul.

The staff members at the hospital allow him to see you, used to his untimely visits. The nurse watching over you gives him a sad smile and leaves him alone with you when he enters your room. He notes that the pallor that had settled beneath your skin is now fading, albeit slowly. 

Maybe you’re getting better? But you still haven’t woken up, and seeing your face, he finds himself falling, falling through the memories of the day of the accident. His eyes close of their own accord, and he sighs, trying to get those images out of his mind. Unable to stop his thoughts, he relives the day all over again.

Logically, he knows the accident isn’t his fault but of the person who was behind the wheel.

Or maybe it was, the voice in his mind tells him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can’t forgive himself for the events that led up to the accident. If he hadn’t called you to pick him up from the company that night when it was raining, you’d be safe in his arms, celebrating his birthday with him.

No, it wasn’t. Seonghwa desperately wants to believe his own words. But there’s still that small voice of doubt that rears its ugly head, and before he knows it, fresh tears are rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Seonghwa is too emotionally exhausted and too choked to speak any louder. “My dove, I’m so sorry for this whole mess. I’m sorry. Please wake up soon. I can’t do this alone—I can’t live without you. Please. I love you.”

[wordsvomit101]

That awkward moment when you realized that your big bro got laid with the person you tried to kill.

Author Notes: Credits to @eternal_auditor & @jazeswhbhaven, I got this idea for this shameless worldbuilding headcanons for Heaven and Angels thanks to both of them and the latter's "Angel Bros Headcanons: Michael Flips" post. I also just want to write the scenario in general. Warnings: Raphael is a caution flag himself, depictions of violence, thoughts of brutalizing and eating someone (being directed at MC) by Raphael, a lot of name-calling from Raphael directed at MC

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(Heaven - Time of Councils and Assemblies)

In the tranquil embrace of Heaven, evening descends like a gentle caress, casting a soft golden hue upon the timeless realm. As the radiant sun dips below the horizon of ethereal clouds, the celestial landscape is bathed in hues of pink, orange, and purple, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colors that stretches across the vast expanse of the heavenly domain. The sky is like a canvas painted lovingly by the hands of God, with the colors of a thousand sunsets, each stroke a masterpiece of divine artistry. The clouds, like celestial brushstrokes, dance across the canvas, their forms ever-changing, their edges illuminated with an ethereal glow.

Amidst the celestial splendor, angelic beings gracefully glide through the sky upon the archways of purest gold span the thoroughfares of Heaven, their graceful curves reminiscent of angelic wings in flight. Beneath these archways lie crystal atriums, their transparent walls revealing the celestial wonders of Heaven in all their resplendent glory. Their iridescent wings shimmer with divine light, flying gracefully as if they dance and pirouette in ethereal ballets, painting radiant trails of luminescence across the sky.

The lower-ranking angels engage in celestial chorales, their melodious voices intertwining in harmonies that resonate throughout the Heaven. The soaring soprano of archangels blends seamlessly with the velvety alto of cherubim, weaving a symphony that would uplift the soul and transport the listener to realms of pure bliss. The music reverberates through the celestial expanse, like a cosmic symphony conducted to worship the Almighty.

For middle-ranking angels, their beloved duty during the Pilgrimage to the Mount of Revelation to commune with their dear creator has to be despairingly pushed to merely Contemplation of Sacred Texts and attending to the Halls of Eternal Wisdom, a lesser, but an honorable duty nonetheless.

Even higher above, amidst ethereal spires and resplendent palaces that grace the heavenly expanse, angelic artisans toil diligently within the Halls of Artistry. Their deft hands sculpt magnificent statues and weave intricate tapestries, each a testament to the wonders of creation. They yearn for the day when their divine creator will bestow upon them a glimpse of their artistry, even a millisecond of recognition for their unwavering dedication to him would be more than enough.

While other angels tend to the flourishing celestial flora in the Gardens of Eternal Bliss. Radiant blooms burst forth in a splendor of colors, their petals shimmering with an otherworldly luminescence. The angels nurture these heavenly gardens with love and care, a single damage to a petal of these beautiful flowers is enough to have their heads roll to the disgusting pit of Hell, however making a mistake in God's favorite garden is an even bigger sin.

It is a mundane day for all of them.

Bang!

"Sir-!"

Creak!

"AAAAAA-!"

Crunch!

"I have yet to finish my prayer-!"

Snap!

However, it wouldn't be a normal day if there wasn't a Raphael brutally tearing and eating fleshes of every angel on his path to the Chamber of Divine Counsel to meet with other Seraphs. His blood-caked shoes thundering over polished marble as he swaggers through the vaulted corridors of Heaven, his crimson-smeared wings unfurling like banners of carnage. Red marred his short blonde hair and white attire. With each wrathful step, he leaves a trail of dismembered angel carcasses, their alabaster feathers floating like ethereal snowflakes in his wake. His crimson eye fully emits an aura of violence and fury.

Thump!

Bursting into the Chamber of Divine Counsel with enough force to make the office tremble, the room was bathed in an ethereal glow, and the other Seraphs present, Gabriel and Michael, sat in their resplendent chairs, their expressions inscrutable. Raphael's form, however, drenched in the gore of his victims, stood in stark contrast to the pristine surroundings. He only has one thought of personally feasting upon that purple hair wench's flesh when she is still alive and making her watch herself being devoured alive and cut off her tongue so she couldn't even voice out her pain.

"Why... Why is it always her...! That bitch!"

The pure white chairs, crafted from the finest celestial ivory, bore the brunt of his rage, splintering and crumbling under his kicks. Yet Gabriel and Michael, their faces devoid of emotion, paid him little attention.

"If you insist on throwing a tantrum, I implore you to do so in a realm more suited to such sorrowful displays. Hell would accommodate your temperaments more appropriately."

Michael stood tall over the intricately designed long table with a mindmap and countless brainstorming notes. Standing in a place Brother Lucifer used to stand in each council meeting. His glare locked on the furious blonde seraph before him. A frown, as if carved in stone, creased his handsome face, adding an air of solemnity to his prideful demeanor. Around his neck, a regal purple choker, embellished with ornate gold rings and shimmering gemstones, encircled his throat. At its center, a prominent gold ring held a solemn cross pendant, its gentle clinking accompanying his every movement.

In a swift motion, Michael tilted his head to the left, displaying effortless grace as he dodged the flying chair hurtling towards him at high speed. The chair collided with the wall, its impact leaving a deep dent in the panel, a testament to the force behind the throw.

"Shut that shitty mouth of yours! Maybe try to go down there yourself to ask why our dear brother is entertaining trash!" As Raphael spoke, his voice trembled with anger and frustration, his words dripping with venomous accusation. A few veins already popped on his crazed, striking appearance. Filled with unrepressed anger that led him to kill his spies who reported to him and fly from the dungeon up here.

Yet Michael continued to look at his notes, his face blissfully indifferent. His right hand continued to write on many of his papers on the white table.

"He has simply strayed from the right path."

Brother Lucifer’s footstep-less feet headed for the vile tiny red devil.

'Stop it.'

However, he couldn't say the same about his head. Memories he had been trying to wipe from his mind for years served only to haunt him. Taunting him of the gut-wrenching event more than a hundred years ago.

In the silence, pure white hands pushed through the grass and preciously held up the rotten red thing.

'Don't dirty your hands.'

His brother stroked that thing's body so softly with his hands so similar to how he once did with Michael's face. Those strong, beautiful hands that once held his face so tenderly to wipe his tears away. As he placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

'Brother...'

"I remain confident in my ability to guide him back to the right path." 

His brother's hand was holding Michael’s ray of light. The light in Brother Lucifer’s hand had stopped in front of the disgusting beast's chest, unable to advance further. He was again protecting worthless things that didn't deserve his grace.

'Why did you save it?!'

When his brother finally stood before Michael on his third step, black energy, not white, began to flow from his body.

'No-NononononoNONO-'

From his beloved brother’s head, the gorgeous head of the Morning Star, bright red horns that were the same color as the vile thing that tempted him began to grow.

'Brother- Brother Lucifer please!'

"You shall witness it in due time."

"I love you, my brother. Which is why I will give you one last chance. Return."

Crack!

The force of Michael's left hand left a massive crack in the opulent crystal marble table that trailed down to the other end of it. Effectively bringing clarity back to Raphael as the blonde gazes at Michael's hard knuckle gripping the table painfully, ignoring the blood pooling down to the marble floor and further dirtying the former pristine chamber.

Michael's abrupt actions were met with an air of knowing silence from the two. It wouldn't be far-fetched if they possessed a secret understanding of his motivations that would elude outsiders.

"Hmph," a scoff rang out and pierced the silence of the room, originating from the slender man with platinum blonde hair seated to Michael's right. His face, though classically handsome with a pale complexion, remained stoic and emotionless, belying the arrogance that dripped from the single syllable he uttered.

"Then you better live up to those words."

Gabriel's lean was a graceful movement, his body sinking into the chair as if it were a throne. His arms crossed over his chest, the crisp white of his shirt contrasting sharply with the gleam of the gold chain that adorned his white jabot ruffle shirt. The fabric of his sleeves rustled softly against the delicate filigree, creating a symphony of subtle sounds that echoed through the silent room. His eyes, deep and enigmatic, surveyed the scene before him, his expression a mixture of amusement and quiet contemplation.

"Furthermore, even in his current state, Brother Lucifer still demonstrates a reverence for God. It is conceivable that his actions are merely a symptom of his yearning for God's divine presence."

In this timeless realm, where Gabriel proudly proclaims to reign supreme as the epitome of seraphic obedience, there exists but one for whom he would willingly surrender his esteemed position: Brother Lucifer. The firstborn of God's creations, Brother Lucifer's devotion to his Maker surpassed all others, earning him the title of Morning Star. His brilliance illuminated the heavens, casting an unrivaled radiance that even Gabriel's wings could not obscure.

It was Brother Lucifer who instilled within the celestial choirs the rituals and observances that expressed their gratitude to the Almighty. Yet amidst his unwavering piety, Brother Lucifer adhered to a solitary discipline known only to himself. Only a select few had glimpsed this secret regimen, elusive even to those who had followed his every step for countless eons.

Solitary would not be said without Brother Lucifer's name being attached to the word. He found solace in his own construction of hallowed sanctuaries. These Majestic Temples of Worship at odd places in Heaven served as his solitary refuge, where he could commune with the divine without the distractions of others. His devotion ignited a spark in other angels, who, inspired by his example, crafted Halls of Artistry. They sculpted countless colossal statues of the Almighty, their grandeur exceeding the limits of mortal imagination.

No one dared step one foot into his havens, they were for Brother Lucifer alone, and death would be upon those who broke that unspoken rule.

Yet there were times he allowed Gabriel to join him during Celestial Meditation in the secluded Garden of Eternal Reflection, a sacred sanctuary hidden deep within the heart of Heaven. Here, amidst the fragrant blossoms and tranquil pools, Brother Lucifer let Gabriel join his silent meditation and prayers. It was one of the highlights of Gabriel's day when his brother was still around.

"Not if he is messing with the descendant of Solomon."

Raphael's voice now had the former rage in it that reminded him of what he came here for, to be in these two insufferable presences. He could barely believe it when one of his spies uttered those words out of their useless mouth. That Lucifer? The Morning Star? His brother who despises Solomon as much as any other angel and the one that would bite another head off if they recklessly touched him even in the rendezvous night at the sacred Eternal Flame at the heart of Heaven where they allowed themselves to let loose for a bit?

It sounds fucking unbelievable, but when they show him a picture of that purple-haired vixen bumping parts with his brother, it sends him off the reels. He kills most of the spies and storms out of his favorite dungeon to here.

"Pardon?" Michael's mismatched eyes bulged, his neck creaking and twitching as he stared up at Raphael in a frenzy of incomprehension, his falsely composed display gone. The mere hint of the truth was liable to send the black-haired Seraph into a rampage and murder them all.

"Are you suggesting..." Gabriel's face, previously etched in stoicism, crumbled into a mask of horror. He couldn't believe the words that had escaped Raphael's lips, but he couldn't shake the realization that was slowly creeping upon him. He desperately wished that the words that came out of Raphael's mouth were nothing more than a cruel jest, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"I said, he's with the descendant of Solomon, that purple-haired harlot...that traitor....that cheat- That tempting trash!"

It pissed Raphael off even more as he raised his voice volume, veins now appearing on his throat, especially at the reminder of his text with that two-timer. The sheer self-satisfied energy radiating off his phone screen almost makes him fly down to Hell to choke that bitch until her brain pops out of her head himself.

"This is preposterous...impossible..." Michael's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with disbelief as Raphael's accusations cut through the air like a madman who had just been cheated on. His normally steady stance faltered, replaced by a palpable sense of hysteria that made his body tremble. He stumbled backward, his back colliding with the cold, unforgiving wall as if seeking solace from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to consume him. The wall provided no comfort, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the turmoil raging through his body.

"I'm not joking. I heard her talking about Lucifer, his scar, his... 'thing'," The mere mention of his beloved brother's private part sends shivers down his spine as his voice quivered. The thought of that conniving bitch taking full advantage of the trust Brother Lucifer had placed in her made his blood boil with simmering rage. And that she dared to go against her promise to him as if those moments they shared in the poisonous sky of Hell meant nothing.

"She knows his exact measurements!- You know what, look at this shit yourself!" With a resounding slam that echoed through the room like a thunderclap, he unveiled the damning evidence: a collection of photographs frozen in time, capturing moments of intimate interaction between Lucifer and the individual in question.

The images fell upon the table with a heavy thud, causing the fragile surface to tremble under the weight of their revelation. Despite the force of impact that threatened to shatter the fragile table beneath them, the pictures remained intact, their unspoken truth radiating from their glossy surfaces like a painful revelation begging to be acknowledged.

Michael's face contorted with a ghastly twitch as if he were attempting to conjure laughter, but the sound that escaped his lips was more akin to a hollow echo in the thick, suffocating atmosphere. "Shut up," his mind struggled to piece together the unthinkable truth that lay sprawled before him like a macabre revelation. Denial, a feeble shield against the onslaught of evidence, crumbled before the weight of reality, leaving him quaking.

"I swear before Thrones of Heavenly Majesty I will make her rue the day she even touched him. She corrupted him and brought him over to the side of temptation. God would never-" As Gabriel's solemn vow echoed through the room, the air crackled with the intensity of his conviction, thick with the gravity of impending retribution for the sinner.

His words struck a nerve, exacerbating Michael's fraying composure. The gravity of the situation bore down upon him like a suffocating weight, his anger bubbling to the surface in fervor.

"FUCKING SHUT UP! IT'S NOT REAL! IT'S NOT REAL!" Michael's voice cracked with anguish and insanity, his outburst sending shockwaves through the chamber. In his distress, the chamber was engulfed in an inferno, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the walls. In the distance, the echo of Michael's despair mingled with the desperate prayers and curses of those trapped within the blazing office. The once-orderly chamber had become a scene of utter chaos and destruction.

"O, Almighty Creator," Gabriel's voice trembled with urgency, his words a fervent entreaty to the absent God above. "Grant us clarity in this hour of darkness, illuminate our path with Your divine light."

Meanwhile, Gabriel's attempts at prayer offered little solace as he grappled with the implications of Raphael's revelations.

His murmurs grew more frantic with each passing moment, a desperate attempt to find solace in the face of unsettling truths. "Guide us through this tempest, O Lord, for we are adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Let Your wisdom be our compass, and Your mercy our salvation."

But despite his fervent appeals, only shrieks and flames answer back, echoing throughout Heaven from the burning chamber they're in.

"She said she'd only do that with me..." Raphael’s voice cracked with bitterness, each word laced with venomous resentment. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the seething anger threatening to consume him whole. "...she lied...she lied..."

The weight of betrayal hung heavy in his heart, suffocating him with its oppressive presence. Raphael's chest heaved with each labored breath, his heart aching with the sting of betrayal. "Fucking cheater..." His words dripped with venom, the bitterness of betrayal poisoning his soul.

With a primal snarl, Raphael's control shattered like glass, shards of rage cutting deep into his consciousness. He lashed out blindly, his teeth sinking into the flesh of a passing stupidly brave angel that came to check on the three Seraphs, the taste of blood a bitter reminder of his own foolishness.

"I hate her..." The words escaped his lips in a guttural growl, each syllable dripping with raw fury. His grip tightened around the angel's trembling form, nails digging into flesh as he sought to vent his pent-up rage on an unwitting victim.

"I'm not sloppy seconds..." Raphael's voice cracked with rage, his crimson eyes ablaze like a firestorm. He tore into the angel's flesh with savage ferocity, his actions a grotesque display of his inner turmoil. "...I'm no side bitch!"

Boom!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Hm?", in the dim recesses of his grandiose office, Lucifer, who was engrossed in his craftsmanship of carving the statue of the divine, lifted his gaze from his artistic endeavor by the sudden but subtle yet discernible disturbance in the island above the sky of Hell.

His pure white eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Despite the plaster and pigments that adorned his once-pristine garments save for his bloody back that had his broken wings. His form radiated a timeless beauty, marred only by the grim expression on his handsome visage.

The sensation he felt was like a creeping up from above, like a ripple in the placid waters of a celestial lake.

'What are those three getting angry at right now?'

Raon, who was perched upon the plush velvet couch that adorned his office, her tall form immersed in the pages of an ancient tome, looked up swiftly at Lucifer's voice, a rare occurrence after hours of silence.

Once she raised her gaze from the text, her curious eyes meeting Lucifer's form with silent inquiry. Normally, she would wait until Lucifer is willing to tell her what is on his mind, but currently, she is bored and needs a break after reading several magic grimoires Lucifer gave her and practicing with them for almost a whole day.

'Let's just hope he will at least give me a short answer.'

"Um, Lucifer, is there something wrong?" Raon's voice, soft and tentative, carried a note of concern as she awaited his response, her gaze fixed unwaveringly upon him.

Lucifer's answer was measured, his words carrying the weight of foreboding. "I feel there's a disturbance. There would be a storm soon," he left out the part that it was most likely his brothers being angry about something again.

"Is it related to the angels?" Yet the young woman still managed to catch onto the hidden message, her question not directed at ordinary angels but at his brothers as she nervously tightened her grip on her grimoire.

Lucifer nodded solemnly. "Very likely," he confirmed. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon but his voice relaxed to ease the lady's tension as he contemplated the unfolding events in the celestial realm.

"Oh, then I will get back to my training-", with a subtle shift of his form, he turned his attention back to Raon, his gaze meeting hers with a serene intensity as he stood up to clean himself with a swipe of his finger. He tidied himself with a cleaning spell and put his tools and statues back into their orderly places without doing so himself physically—a casual display of his magic that Raon wishes to get to one day.

"It's fine," Lucifer assured her, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's take a rest. Care to join me for a walk to the observatory room?" Quietly, he held out his right arm for her to hold on to if she wanted to accompany him.

Raon's heart fluttered at the invitation, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to contain her excitement. "Really? I-I mean, of course! Please lead the way." Her words spilled forth in a rush of eagerness, her eyes shining with anticipation as she rose from her seat and she excitedly but carefully walked over to Lucifer's spot.

As Raon raised her gaze, a silent query lingering in her eyes, she studied the handsome devil's countenance for the slightest hint of unease. Finding none, she shyly reached out and clasped his arm, a silent agreement passing between them. Together, they embarked on a leisurely stroll, the pace unhurried yet purposeful.

Lucifer, typically swift in his movements, slowed his steps to accommodate Raon, pausing whenever she expressed a desire to linger and marvel at the exquisite white blossoms that adorned Paradise Lost, a sight reserved only for the privileged few. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility and reverence as they meandered through the garden, each step bringing them closer to their destination, yet allowing them to savor the beauty that surrounded them. Unbothered by the chaos that is currently exploding in Heaven.

[star-centric]

Ooo somewhat angsty request: when would be the first time MC saw each of the obey me brothers cry, and what's the best way to support them in that situation?

PAIRINGS: Obey Me Brothers x Gender Neutral!Reader

NOTE: *rubs hands together menacingly* I’ve been waiting for this one 😈 I definitely see myself exploring this idea again in the future (or even redoing this, idk yet tho 👀)

CW: angst (but not soul crushing), all of the guys are very vulnerable in this, gender neutral reader, minor spoilers for the first game (don’t worry, it’s not about *that* scene), no NB spoilers since I’m behind in the game </3

When you see LUCIFER cry for the first time, it was late at night, where he believed that he was the only soul awake in the house- until you poked your head in the study, concern etched on your face.

He had one of his cursed records playing, the gentle music softly filling the air as he poured another glass of Demonus, gloves long forgotten. The simple smile he wore on his face only was a mask of what he was feeling.

He looked so…tired. So defeated.

“I try to give my brothers a good life- a life not only reminiscent of the one they lost from before, but a life even better than that. A life that they deserve.” He began, finger toying with the rim of his glass. “But I failed.”

You remained quiet as Lucifer let out a bitter laugh, “I failed- I let all of them down. I let down my brothers, I let down Lord Diavolo, I let down Michael, I let down my Father- all of them. I‘ve became a disappointment in the Celestial Realm, and I’m continuing to do so even now in the Devildom.”

You’ve never seen Lucifer so vulnerable before- you’ve always seen him act so unbothered, his pride refusing to let him reveal too much. He’s always been the one to lead, the one his family would go to for anything, the one that would sacrifice himself without a moment’s hesitation. He was the glue holding everything together, but everything wears thin with time.

He picked up the glass, swirling it around before setting back down with a harsh thud, sighing.

“I’ve let you all down. And that in and of itself is unforgivable-“

Lucifer flinched when he felt your hand on his cheek, thumb gently wiping under his eye. He was confused for a moment before he felt something wet trail down his other cheek. He wiped at it only to notice his vision getting a bit blurry-

How long has it been since he cried?

A few of his tear drops landed on his documents below, yet as he glanced up at you, you didn’t say a word. You didn’t point out how unguarded he was being, you didn’t interrupt him- you merely listened and wiped away his tears with a gentle smile lining your cheeks.

Lucifer couldn’t stop his tears after that, and he found himself grasping onto you as they continued.

When you see MAMMON cry for the first time, it’s in your room.

He was avoiding everyone today including you, and while it left you worried, you gave him some space. When you got back to your room, you noticed the door ajar- and when you opened it fully, you noticed a figure curled into your bed, a mop of messy white hair poking out from your blankets. You peeked over to see if he was asleep-

You didn’t have time to react as he grabbed and pulled you down to him.

Mammon buried his head into the crook of your neck and tightened his arms around you, hiding his face completely.

You wanted to ask what was wrong- what he was going through, for him to talk to you- but no words needed to be exchanged as he shook in your grasp, feeling your shirt getting damp. You didn’t have it in you to ask anymore.

All you did was comb your fingers through his locks as he quietly sobbed.

You’re not sure how long you stayed there, curled up against one another, but he eventually went still, soft snores passing through his lips.

It didn’t matter what the issue was- whether it was just a bad day or worse- you would always be there for him.

When you see LEVIATHAN cry for the first time, it’s in the privacy of his room.

You were binge-watching a new anime, one that had you both invested. It was about an immortal finding love after centuries- you were surprised Levi wanted to finish watching it after discovering it was a romance, but you were glad nonetheless (even if he couldn’t hide his flushed face).

You were nearing the end of the series when you heard sniffling.

You glanced to see Levi with tears building up in his eyes, threatening to fall.

You tried to look away but he already caught you staring.

The tips of his ears were burning red as he flinched, “Don’t- don’t look at me MC!”

“Levi, you know there’s nothing wrong with crying right?”

“Sti-Still! It’s embarrassing!”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about! It’s sad, it’s emotional-“ you explained. “If it makes you feel better, I kinda want to cry too.” Which wasn’t a lie- your eyes were starting to sting a little. You knew how the outcome was going to be for the main characters, but it still felt like a gut punch to see.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Levi, so you gently linked your pinkie with his. You were happy that he didn’t flinch away from you this time.

“Just know that you’re not alone, okay?”

Levi shyly nodded his head, and you felt him slightly squeeze your pinkie. He knew that he wasn’t, but that wasn’t what got him emotional.

What got him emotional was seeing the immortal, holding their elderly lover in his arms as they passed on. The lover aged as time passed, but the immortal stayed the same- except they were alone again like how they were centuries ago.

No matter how many happy moments the characters had in the show together, it was bound to end in tragedy.

And it brought Levi back to reality.

Back to the reality that he would eventually lose you in the same way.

When you see SATAN cry for the first time, it was in his demon form.

You’ve seen him before like this after he lashed out in the past, spiky tail whipping furiously behind him, green eyes showing nothing but fury. You know that he tries to keep his anger under control, but it still got the best of him at times.

But you didn’t see any anger this time.

You only saw anguish.

There Satan was, kneeled on the ground with tears welling up in his eyes with ripped and scattered objects tossed around the room, a result of destructive rage from before.

“I’ll never been seen for myself, will I?”

Satan’s eyes stayed on the ground, never meeting your own. “I’ll only ever be seen as my sin, as an extension of my older brother- never as myself.”

He shoulders trembled as he let out a bitter laugh that filled the room.

“I know I shouldn’t expect anything different. I should be used to it by now, but- why does it still bother me?”

His smile did nothing to hide his pain, crystal tears cascading down his cheeks.

“Why does it still hurt MC?”

You joined him on the floor and pulled him in your arms, holding onto him as he broke down.

When you see ASMODEUS cry for the first time, you thought it was a ploy at first.

You’ve seen Asmo bring tears to his eyes on a whim when he’s trying to get his way or be dramatic, so to see the same thing happen now wasn’t anything new. You were painting each others nails when you asked him if he’s ever been in love before-

“Of course MC! I love all of my fans dearly and they love me-“

“No, not that kind of love. Like true love- has someone ever told you they love you genuinely?”

“Hm, I don’t…”

When you saw the dejected look in his eyes, you became aware that it wasn’t a ploy at all.

You didn’t look up when he went quiet, concentrating on finishing the final coat on his nails. It wasn’t until you saw something wet drip onto his hand that made you glance up, seeing a single tear roll down his cheek with a forced smile.

“…I don’t know.” He choked out.

Asmo always soaked in the admiration from his fans- but that’s all it was, admiration. They loved the Asmo that they saw in the Fall, the Asmo that they saw on Devilgram- they loved the Asmo that they saw, but did they really know him enough to say they truly love him?

Did they love the Asmo you see or Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust?

“People love me and I love my fans, but why does it still feel so empty?” The smile on his face that he was so used to flashing soon fell, more tears steadily rolling down his flushed cheeks.

Despite what his sin is, Asmo did believe in true love. He believed that one day he found find someone to pour his heart and soul into and get the same in return. Even after he fell and lost his beautiful wings, he still held on to his wish of finding that person.

He started to imagine that person was you.

But he was scared that you didn’t picture him that way. That you only saw him as the Avatar of Lust.

For once, Asmo felt insecure, and he could do nothing but soak in the warmth he was afraid of losing as you held him sobbing.

When you saw BEELZEBUB cry for the first time, it catches you off guard.

You only went to grab some water, waking up and walking to the kitchen in your dazed state.

It wasn’t a surprise to see Beel there with a meal- but it was a surprise to see him wiping away tears, food untouched.

Any sleepiness washed away when you rushed to him, already by his side, asking him what’s wrong.

“I had another nightmare.” He sniffled, refusing to make eye contact with his body tense. “About Lilith.”

Your breath hitched- Beel told you once about his nightmares, but never what it was about. You only assumed how horrible it was from the faraway look he had in his eyes. It never crossed your mind that it was about his sister-

“I saw her MC- it’s always the same,” Beel balled up his fists, baring his fangs. “I’m always too late to save her- why couldn’t I save her?!”

He was no longer hiding his frustration or tears, which were freely rolling down his cheeks. All you could do was listen as he tried his best not to break down under the kitchen lights.

“You protected her, Beel.” You softly spoke, reaching to hold his hand. “You all did more than enough to protect her, and I know that she doesn’t blame you.” You lightly squeezed his hand, “She knows that it’s not your fault. None of it was.”

You’re not sure how long you sat there holding Beel, sobbing out broken apologies to his dear sister who would never hear them.

When you see BELPHEGOR cry for the first time, it was in his sleep.

You spent the night in the twins room, bundled up next to him as you were beginning to doze off. Belphie clung on to you, mumbling something incoherent as he slept. But before you could get lost in your dreams, you felt his grip growing tighter around you.

You brushed off the minor discomfort, only turning to then hear something that truly woke you up-

Belphie whimpering.

You blinked away any sleepiness, turning to see his face twisted in pain, fresh tear staining his cheeks. His hands were clenching onto you tight, whimpering soon turning into a chorus of “no” and “please”.

You shook him awake before he could continue, hair stuck to his forehead as his eyes shot open, panting. He scanned the room before landing on you, pulling you closer into him, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. No doubt he had a nightmare.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Belphie took a long pause. “…Everyone hated and blamed me for everything, for all of our problems. You all forced me to leave, and I was casted out of my home- again.”

You did nothing but soothe him as you felt him tremble again, your neck becoming damp as he started to quietly sob. “You know that won’t ever happen Belphie-“

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Just- stay with me…please?”

“Of course.”

You felt his tail wrap around your waist as he sobbed out a thank you. You combed your fingers through his locks, lulling him back to sleep- hopefully to better dreams.

[taintedsoul-if]

This whole drabble stressed my pea-sized brain out. At one point, I wanted to throw my device into the wall (though I would never harm my precious babies). Enjoy. Word count: 2150.

Cadmus × MC

You push open the door, and the sweet scent of incense envelops you. The pleasure house is dimly lit, with soft music and drunken laughter filling the air. A wave of nostalgia washes over you, reminiscent of The Ole Rose, your former haunt. You can't help but wonder if Ada is doing well. Though you hope your mother's schemes go unpunished, you know Ada will uncover the truth. Her tenacity is unwavering, and she'll stop at nothing to expose the secrets that led to your demise. You're torn between your love for your mother and your desire for justice. The madam, resplendent in red robes, approaches with a captivating sway of her hips. "Well, well, well, a new face! It's lovely to have you here, stranger."

The madam's warm smile and sultry tone break the spell of nostalgia, and you focus on the present. You take in the opulent decorations and the patrons' revelry, feeling a sense of disconnection from this life. "Just passing here to enjoy a drink or two. No company necessary." You emphasize the last part, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. The madam's eyes sparkle with understanding, and she nods. "Very well, stranger. You're welcome to stay. Take a seat wherever you like. I'll send someone over with a drink of your choice." Her gaze lingers on yours for a moment before she turns to attend to another patron, leaving you to your thoughts. Your eyes scan the room, searching for a quiet corner to escape into, when they land on a familiar figure - Cadmus, sitting in the shadows.

The memories of Cadmus's avoidance at school flood your mind, making you hesitant to approach him now. You recall how he'd vanish into thin air, leaving you feeling frustrated and unwanted. With a deep breath, you decide to respect his boundaries and not force an interaction. Instead, you redirect your attention to finding a peaceful spot to collect your thoughts. Your eyes scan the room, searching for a secluded corner where you can retreat into your own world.

As you search for a quiet corner, your eyes land on a cozy nook partially hidden by a velvet curtain. The soft glow of a lantern illuminates the area, casting a warm and inviting light. You make your way towards it.

Just as you settle in, the Madame of the pleasure house approaches, accompanied by two individuals with striking features and slender physiques. "These two have just arrived," she says with a knowing smile. "Although you declined company, they can assist with pouring your drink and attending to any other needs you may have."

You smile politely, feeling a bit uneasy at the Madame's suggestion. "Thank you, but I'm quite alright on my own," you reply, trying to decline their services.

However, the two individuals approach you with charming smiles, their eyes sparkling with interest. The woman, with raven-black hair and porcelain skin, introduces herself as Luna, while the man, with chiseled features and piercing blue eyes, introduces himself as Kael.

Luna takes the liberty of pouring you a glass of wine, her fingers brushing against yours as she hands it to you. Kael, meanwhile, takes a seat next to you, his proximity making you feel slightly uncomfortable.

The Madame, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement, nods and excuses herself, leaving you with the unlikely trio.

As you raise the glass to your lips, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your face. The wine's flavors explode on your palate, a masterful balance of sweet and bitter notes. But before you can savor the taste, a chilly voice cuts through the air. "Indulging in drugged wine to get yourself in the mood, I see." Your head jerks up, and your eyes meet Cadmus's piercing vermilion gaze. He looms over you, his presence both captivating and intimidating.

You gaze up at Cadmus, his piercing vermilion eyes seeming to bore into your soul, their inscrutable expression unreadable. "Cadmus," you say, trying to sound nonchalant despite the sudden tension. Ignoring his words, you brush them off, still remembering the stinging feeling of his avoidance. "So now you want to talk to me?" You take another sip, the sweetness and bitterness dancing on your tongue.

"You're both dismissed," Cadmus said curtly. The servers scurried away like they'd been doused with cold water, abandoning their posts without a second glance. Your eyes blazed with anger, and your glass hit the table with a sharp crack. You rose from your seat, your finger pointing at Cadmus like a dagger. "Who do you think you are, dismissing my servers like they're your personal minions?" Your voice was low and even, "You've been avoiding me like the plague in public - at school of all places! Making me look like a damn stalker for trying to talk to you, but now you're ready to get cozy in private?"

"When you approach me, do you feel anything?" Cadmus asked, disregarding your words. His hand clasped around your index finger.

"What does your approaching me have to do with anything? I am talking about you avoiding me!" You tried jerking your finger out of his hold, which didn't budge.

"Mi sol, I am getting very impatient and I don't know how long I am able to hold out for."

Gnashing your teeth together, you smacked his hand. "Stop calling me that! My impatience is also wearing thin! Your feelings aren't the only..." You were unable to finish your sentence, as Cadmus's lips covered your own, silencing you completely.

Cadmus's lips were warm and demanding, his kiss deepening as he pulled you closer. Your mind raced, torn between the anger and frustration that had been building and the sudden rush of emotions his kiss evoked. You felt like you were drowning in the sensation, your resistance melting away with each passing moment.

As suddenly as it had begun, the kiss ended. Cadmus pulled back, his eyes burning with desire. "I've missed you," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stood there, breathless and bewildered, trying to process what had just happened. Your heart raced, your lips still tingling from the kiss. "You've got some nerve," you managed to stammer, trying to regain your composure.

Your body felt hot, as if it was suddenly doused in a tub of hot water. Your vision blurs, and you stumble, feeling your weight pressed against Cadmus.

"Even the weakest drug has such a lethal effect on you." Nestling your head against Cadmus's shoulder, your body trembled. Thinking about it now, he did say something about the wine being drugged, but because of the hurt, you chose to ignore his words.

"Riaz... Do what needs to be done. We're leaving."

Your body felt light. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Cadmus's neck and closed your eyes. When have you ever let your guard down around someone since transmigrating here? Never. This is the first. Cadmus felt like a home away from home. He made you feel like this is where you've always belonged. Right here in his arms. His hand cradled your head protectively.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

When you opened your eyes, you were in a tub filled to the brim with water, small purple petals floated atop the water in tranquility. Craning your head, you tried to get a good look at your surroundings. White walls, marble tile countertops attached to a glass-embedded sink with lights. There was a stone-tiled shower with a rain showerhead.

Realizing your new location was a bathroom, you quickly sat up in the tub to check if you were fully clothed, which you were, and your memory was a bit blurry. The last thing you remembered was being 'forcefully' kissed by Cadmus. At the thought of him, the bathroom door opened, and he entered, his hair dripping with water on his robe, which was loosely tied in the middle. He silently stalked across the room towards where you were, reaching out a hand, and he touched your forehead. "Mhmm, better."

"Where are we?"

Cadmus gazed at you. "Home," he responded. The water sloshed over the edge of the tub, wetting the bottom of his bathrobe. "The drug's effect should wear off in the next hour."

"I—"

"Clean yourself up and get some rest. I'll have Riaz drop you off at home in a few hours." Cadmus turned to leave, but you sprang up from your seated position to grab onto his hand. With your sudden movement, the robe slipped off his shoulder, exposing the smooth expanse of his pale, flawless skin.

"You'll go back to avoiding me after this, won't you? If I did something wrong for you to dislike me, you can say so."

Cadmus's eyes narrowed, his voice low. "What's going on in your head? Do you think I'd bring you here if I had even a hint of dislike for you?"

You stood firm, meeting his gaze. "You've been evasive with your answers," you pointed out, your tone direct.

Cadmus's expression turned edgy. "If you had answered my question earlier, maybe I wouldn't be wondering if you're hiding something," he shot back, his words laced with a hint of frustration.

His hand enveloped yours, his lips slightly parted as he gazed at you. You looked down at his hand, feeling his fingers trace gentle circles on your skin. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over you, as if he had done this many times before. But that was impossible - you'd only just met him. The familiarity must be a reminder of the person he had mentioned, the one he had lost. A pang of jealousy flared in your chest, but you didn't have time to dwell on it.

"You're the bane of all my suffering and pain, mi sol. Yet, I still crave you with every fiber of my being," Cadmus mutters, his eyes icy cold. "I vowed that our last lifetime together would be the final time I'd succumb to such all-consuming desire and need for you. But it seems that, despite everything, my body, mind, and entire existence remain inextricably bound to yours. You're nothing short of cruel, mi sol."

With those words, his hand released yours, and he stepped back, creating a distance between your bodies. "Rest well, mi sol."

"Cad—" But he didn't allow you to finish, swiftly turning and departing from the room, the door closing softly behind him, leaving you with a sense of longing and unanswered questions.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

You stepped out of your room, feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the night. Cadmus's mansion was a maze of long, winding hallways, the shadows cast by the flickering lights making it seem like the walls were moving. But you weren't intimidated.

You wanted to clear the air between you and Cadmus. Your body craved his presence just as fiercely as his seemed to crave yours. If that weren't the case, you wouldn't be trying so hard to catch his eye. The weight of guilt was crushing you, making you wonder how you'd caused someone as strong as Cadmus so much pain.

Seeking him out might seem irrational, but you needed answers. At the end of the hall, a door stood slightly ajar, warm light spilling out like an invitation. You made your way towards it, your mind made up.

Inside the room, Cadmus sat amidst towering shelves, engrossed in a book. Though he didn't acknowledge your presence, his body tensed as you entered. You locked the door, your mind filled  with doubts.

But your feet seemed rooted to the spot as Cadmus's gaze finally met yours, "You should be resting," he said gruffly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

"I can't rest until we talk," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, your thoughts a jumbled mix of emotions: frustration, longing, and a hint of fear.

Cadmus snapped his book shut and rose from his seat, his movements fluid and graceful, like a predator stalking its prey. "No explanations necessary. I've made peace with our fate. We're not meant to be together in this life."

Cadmus drew closer, his eyes burning with hunger, your heart raced and your thoughts grew jumbled. You felt like a rabbit caught in a predator's gaze, frozen in place yet longing to flee. But your words spilled out, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between you: "What does fate have to do with it?"

"Everything," Cadmus replied, his voice low and intense. "Don't you feel anything when I'm near, mi sol?"

You backed against the door, your heart pounding like a horse's hooves. The attraction between you was undeniable, but something held you back from surrendering to it.

Cadmus's hands slammed against the door, his white hair cascading down his shoulders. His vermilion eyes locked onto yours, their gazes lingering in a tense, breathless moment.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* The End *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

[general-cyno]

I've been musing about it for a while, thanks to some posts I've read recently too, and honestly... one of the (many) fascinating aspects of zolu to me is the way they share parallels/connections and or similarities to important figures in OP's world. spoilers for the most recent arcs and reveals ahead!

perhaps the most blatant and one of my personal favorites, are luffy and zoro's similarities to roger and rayleigh. as OP's mc and someone who's on the road to become the pirate king, luffy's own similarities to roger have come up a lot throughout the story and they've been acknowledged or pointed out by other characters like shanks, rayleigh himself and yamato, for example. from the goofy parts of their personalities, to the strength of their wills, and their dreams, luffy and roger's parallels are consistent in OP,

and as seen in rayleigh's brief memory of their first meeting, the straw hat luffy received from shanks was originally worn by roger back when he was young.

albeit the circumstances are a little different - with them stumbling upon each other by chance vs luffy going out of his way to meet zoro after learning of his name and reputation - this first meeting is still reminiscent of zoro and luffy's, with both ray and zoro initially rejecting roger and luffy's invitations to join them in their journey.

as for rayleigh and zoro, there's also a bunch of parallels between the two!

due to his previous time as a bounty hunter in the east blue, zoro made quite a name for himself and as OP progresses, his renown as the pirate hunter and the straw hats' swordsman is only second to luffy's. he was also the 2nd straw hat to get a bounty, and he's usually right behind luffy whenever their bounties go up. similarly, rayleigh was (and still is) considered a legend second to roger himself, strong enough that garp still views him as a powerful foe the marines can't easily defeat and managed to scare blackbeard away from amazon lily without an actual fight, despite the latter's strength.

there's other stuff too: the eye scars, both zoro and ray being greatly skilled swordsmen, their love for booze, being users of all three types of haki and even their epithets! from what I've read from other OP fans in discussion threads and through some internet search, rayleigh's title of "dark king" in jp is actually the name or word for pluto (the god of the underworld, roman mythology's equivalent to hades) in said language. in comparison, "enma", the name of zoro's most recently acquired sword and the "king of hell" title that he claimed after defeating king in wano, are a direct reference to the buddhist deity of the same name in jp mythology, also known as yama - a god of the underworld in charge of judging souls.

from the most recent flashbacks of the god valley incident, too, you can see the physical resemblance between these duos:

(as a bit of a side note, I think it was nice that rayleigh not only took it upon himself to mentor luffy, he was also the one who protected zoro from kizaru in sabaody and after the timeskip, during the straw hats' reunion in the archipelago and as they bid their farewells, zoro went out of his way to thank him for everything too.)

all in all, considering how close roger and rayleigh were (to the point roger called him "partner"), their strength, reputation and their overall journey with the roger pirates crew - the fact that luffy and zoro share more than a few clear similarities/parallels to them is really good imo, and it speaks both of the importance of their relationship and of the kind of figures they're bound to become, or are already becoming, in OP's world and ongoing history.

although it'd be sweet to have zoro and luffy directly refer to each other as partners as well (which kid and killer, another captain/first mate duo, have done too) I'm not sure it'll happen, if only for the sake of keeping the relationships between luffy and the crew balanced, so to say. still, like I said, knowing how close luffy and zoro are and that they share parallels with other captains/first mates, I think that says a lot about them regardless and the importance they hold for each other and the story as a whole.

another interesting resemblance between zolu and characters who are connected to one another involves, of course, shanks and mihawk - both of which are not only acquainted with each other, as rivals and friends of sorts, but also served as luffy and zoro's mentors/guides at different points of their lives and presently stand as their eventual foes to face in order to reach their goals of becoming the pirate king and world's greatest swordsman.

aaand last but not least, because it's yet another favorite of mine: joy boy/nika and shimotsuki ryuma. I sort of talked about it in another post, and I find it pretty cool. nika and ryuma come from different eras and don't exactly have much to do with one another but luffy's DF awakening and defeating kaido led to "joy boy" (since luffy refused to take credit for it directly by name) being hailed as a hero to wano that's comparable and only rivaled by ryuma, who in the past defended the country and was considered a legendary swordsman, whose sword shusui (that zoro wielded for a while) is a national treasure even.

since the hito hito no mi: model nika is a mythical zoan and vegapunk's speculated that devil fruits come into existence as manifestations of hope and wishes (or a potential for human evolution someone's desired), among other things, nika's existence as an actual god is kind of a subject of current debate in the fandom BUT. the fact remains that whether real or myth, he's still mentioned in old texts and his story has been shared among those enslaved by the WG, as a call for hope and freedom. in addition, even though he was human, ryuma also became revered as a savior figure and a sword god by the folks of wano.

so when you have luffy embodying the sun god of joy and liberation,

and it turns out zoro is none other than a descendant of the shimotsuki (frost moon) family, who resembles the former daimyo of ringo and the god of the blade ryuma,

well. those are some crazy parallels luffy and zoro share outside of their equally kinda crazy and meaningful relationship, as individuals and crew.

[midnightsun-if]

OKAY NO I CANT TAKE THAT HURT. follow up (if you're up to! don't feel pressured to continue) if the mc survived the near death experience, waking up after a few days after this supposed.. uh.. war? Attack? how would the ros react? + how would the family react?

Follow up to this ask!

Everything comes back into focus abruptly, a sharp intake of breath, as if your lungs, that hadn’t truly needed oxygen for decades, were suddenly pressed to feel something natural. A reminder that you were alive, however arbitrary that word may mean when it involves your situation, and alerting the individual that had been slumped next to your bedside to the development.

A familiar gaze, filled with nothing short of relief, settles across your form like a warm embrace after spending so long in the dark, surrounded by nothing but an icy chilliness.

Koda: “You’re awake.” Large hands gently cradle your face, his soft expression speaking more than he could ever say. Shifting closer, Koda nuzzles his nose against yours, a sharp breath of relief leaving him at the feeling of your responding action, while a beaming grin stretched across his lips. “I knew you were going to be okay. I knew that everything would work out okay.” He gently trails his fingers down your cheek. “I’m not going to wait any longer to do what I’ve been wanting to do. W-Would you like to meet my family?” Whiskey brown eyes widen slightly, hope sparkling like gems within them. “I’ve wanted them to meet the man I’ve fallen in love with for a long time. I-I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Scarlett: She doesn’t move, doesn’t even shift a minuscule amount, reminiscent of a statue as emerald green eyes seemingly take you in. Soaking up everything that they could see. Within the next moment, as if she’s finally settled on something within her mind, she’s on the bed next to you, nestled into your side as she wraps her arms around you. Warm breath ghosts across your skin, Scarlett nuzzling against your neck, and a soft purr escapes, rumbling deep from her chest. Slender fingers, that had found their way underneath the thin hospital shirt, flex, as if she was truly checking you were there, and tug you closer. “You came back to me,” she whispers, placing an almost reverent kiss to the underside of your jaw. “You kept your promise.”

Cyrus/Cyra: Crimson eyes, that had clearly not seen a wink of sleep in a long time, are immediately flooded with gold, a sob erupting from their mouth as they instantly move to cradle your face. “You’re here,” they whisper, drawing as close as they’d possibly dare in your current position. Dipping their head to place a gentle kiss to your forehead, a relieved sigh being all they offered for the next moment. “Thank you. For being here, for loving me, for being everything I never knew that I needed.”

Quinn: Sapphire blue, that had darkened to such a stormy cobalt it was almost unrecognizable, shifts instantly the moment they notice you looking back, that they were given the opportunity to look into the eyes that they’ve fallen so in love with. Words fail them, they wouldn’t know how to properly explain the relief they suddenly feel, the way that their wolf was now howling in joy, and that they no longer felt the crushing weight bearing down onto their chest. “I missed you.” They finally settle on, taking your hand gently into their own. “Never do that again, okay?”

Caden: Seeing the shift in your aura, in the way that your soul no longer felt like it was crying out for a way to escape, allows their tears to fall down their face in jubilation— no longer wrought with the agony of knowing that they might lose you at any moment. In the face of your gaze, of the light that shone from your very being, they feel the hollow emptiness, the chilling grasp, abate from their heart, the dull atmosphere that the world had become suddenly awash with color. “You’re here,” they say, shifting closer to your bedside. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you again, okay? I’m going to protect you like you’ve always protected me. I promise.”

Sloane: A relieved sound escapes their mouth at the sight of you, somewhere between a strangled sob and a sharp gasp, before they get impossibly closer, pressing their forehead against your chest, relishing in the warmth that now slipped through. “You’re such an asshole,” they grunt, fingers digging into the blanket wrapped around you. “Never do that to me again.” Hazel eyes raise to meet your own, flashing gold in a clear warning. “You can’t ever do that me again. Understood? I don’t know if I’d be able to survive it a second time.”

Blake: “Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken,” they gently tease, caressing your cheek. Their attempt at levity, at the natural way they interacted with you, being completely dismantled by the shadows that hung underneath their eyes, at the red rimmed quality of shimmering violet, and the slightly pallid hue to normally tanned skin. Something they seem to take note of, and their false sense of nonchalance falls away, the weight of what had happened bearing down onto their shoulders. “We really need to work on safety precautions, angel.” They lean down and press a chaste kiss to your lips, humming at the familiar feel of you against them. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”

Reginald/Regina: “You’re okay.” Quickly standing, they immediately almost fall back onto their chair as their feet catch on something, but it’s not an event that stops their trek towards you. Instead, they happily settle on the edge of your bed, taking your hand into their own. “I knew that you would be. It wouldn’t have made any sense for me to outlive you after all.” A gentle smile quirks their lips, but it soon falls away, their grip tightening around yours. “I’m so glad won’t be the case. I’m so glad that I still have you. There’s still so much I want to do and see, and I don’t want to do any of that without you.”

Helena: Your mother is by your side in an instant, her face uncharacteristically gentle as she cradles your face in her hands. “My little one,” she murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your brow. “I’m so glad to see your eyes again. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.” Helena pauses, her expression darkening. “Well, I do, but I’d rather not cause a war if I don’t need to.”

Saraya: “Little light.” The gentle exclamation of the your childhood nickname is followed by a warm presence settling next to you. Your mama’s gentle expression filled with nothing but her love for you, warm hands running through the strands of your hair with all the care in the world. “You gave us all quite the scare—” Her smile falters at the reminder of what had happened, but her touch never falls away. “I love you, my little light, please never forget that.”

Cienna: Your eldest sister raises elegantly from the undoubtedly uncomfortable hospital chair, a picture perfect definition of grace, but the way electric blue eyes seem to sparkle with renewed life tells you the struggle that she had been subjected to in recent days. “I forgot how dramatic you can be, Beastie,” she teases, settling on the edge of your bed, taking your hand in a light grasp. “Almost dying will definitely take the cake for years to come.” Her hold tightens ever-so-slightly, obsidian black flashing within her gaze. “We’ll find out who did this, and I’ll personally ensure that they die screaming. I promise you, Beastie.”

Persephone: A relieved cry erupts from her lips at the sight of you, various kisses being placed across your face in her happiness. You vaguely note that the usual hospital blanket had been replaced by a quilt that Persephone had no doubt made just for you, its warmth, as well as the softness of it, a soothing balm against your aching body. “I was so worried, little one.” Persephone wrings her hands together, amber eyes filled with worry, before she begins to fuss over your blanket and pillows; wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as possible. “I’m so glad you’re okay. None of us would be the same without you.”

Christian: Auburn hair falls across his forehead, the normally boyish curls completely haphazard in their tousled state; his usually well put together appearance being cast to the wayside. “You’re awake,” Christian murmurs, gently taking your hands into his own shaking grip. Forest green, that’s slowly being eclipsed by obsidian, filled with nothing but adoration as he looks at you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, as if he didn’t know what he could possibly say, but he eventually repeats the only thing that seemed important to him. “You’re awake.”

[edmufics]

S5 Theory Part Three

SO

Here are my theories with all the info I have from The Dark Tower universe.

Disclaimer: Im not saying any of these are right, likely to happen, or that I necessarily even want them to happen. I just think that btwn learning ab TDT and rewatching stranger things, these are fun theories to consider!

*SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1-4 AHEAD*

*MENTIONS OF S5 BTS CONTENT AHEAD* I think S5 will come out on July 15th, 2025—the ninth anniversary! It will take place over the course of several months rather than a week or two like we have seen in the past. I think it will start in late summer, back-to-school time. I think we will see a lot more of Mr. Clark this season, and he will fill some of the scientist roles (along with new casting) we will be missing after S4's deaths. We will see a lot more flashbacks this season, either due to trying to keep Vecna out with positive memories or just reminiscing. Vecna will return to Hawkins lab at some point. Possibly a significant battle or it will be his lair. Vecna takes Holly, but I'm not sure he kills her (Like an 80% chance he does tho) I think with the increased army presence, we may see the kids lose the ability to see or visit Max (since she is a Venca victim). Nancy has a candy stripper/nurse outfit this season because they are trying to sneak in to see/save her in some way. I'm at about 60% on the chance of Kalli coming back. If she does, it will either help El train or help El defeat Vecna. Nancy detective journalist era, but she isn't going to leave for college. She would never just dip like that. Stobin or Nancy work at the radio station set we've seen. Hopper will either be stuck in hiding with El or in the army, but only as a means of gathering intel.

I think that people were not far off on the Kas theory. I think there will be a character that represents Kas, but it'll be Will. In S4 they talk about how Vecna doesn't kill his victims, he absorbs their abilities/souls. We also see that El can revive the dead (Max) in some way. That skill isn't practiced on her part, and we know Vecna is stronger than she is. I think Vecna kills Will and then revives him using memories like El did to Max, but only uses his darkest memories. These memories turn him against his friends, at which point he becomes Kas. Mike will be the key to getting Will back (since Mike is the heart). Mike will have to confront his romantic or platonic feelings for Will while reminding him of their good memories. This will lead to Will delivering the final blow to Vecna (like Kas) when he remembers.

I also think the idea of "Twinners" from The Talisman will come into play, but not quite in the same way. Instead of them all having Upside Down twins, I think Vecna will reanimate the corpses of his victims (since we've seen that the bodies are still in the Upside Down) and use these reanimated corpses to torture the MCs. Especially bc we know that it's all a hive mind so anyone killed by a part of Vecna's hive mind was technically killed by Vecna (depending on if thats how they wanna spin it). Specifically, I think Dustin will be either Vecna'd (but not killed) or have to see Eddie's reanimated corpse (fitting in with strange similarities between Eddie and Metallica's Eddie). Barb will return to torture Nancy, Bob returning for Joyce, etc.

In the Talisman universe, there is a plot where the person who opens the gate banishes himself to an alternate universe and closes the gate forever, forcing himself to leave behind everyone he loves. I think this is how El's story will end. She won't die but instead will have to stay in the Upside Down forever. In the end, we will see a crying Mike looking up and noticing the light above him glowing brightly, showing how he and El may continue communicating.

Characters I think could die:

Vicki (they loooove giving us a new character to fall in love with so they can brutally kill them that same season)

Steve (sacrificing himself for the Dustin, Robin, or Johnathan.) Holly (Maybe, it just seems too easy) Dr. Owens Vecna (Duh) Either Lucas or Max (I think Max may come back only to lose Lucas) Murray Ted Wheeler Wayne Munson (following Eddie's reanimated corpse into the upside down; I think that's how they reveal that Vecna reanimated the bodies)

Characters that I think are 100% going to survive: Mike Dustin (will try to be a hero like Eddie, but Steve will sacrifice himself to save Dustin (I think at the church)) Will Joyce Karen Wheeler

Anyone else, I'm not sure they are safe, but I also don't think they are going to die.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

[xxsycamore]

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬  💌 Nokto has been away for so long, and Emma is alone with her thoughts about him.

Nokto Klein x Emma(MC) • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Reunion Sex; Accidental Voyeurism; Masturbation; Teasing; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Some Humor; Aftercare; Fluff and Smut; Couch Cuddles • wordcount: 1,594 • masterlist

a/n: AHH I had the pleasure to participate in yet another amazing ikemen gift exchange hosted by @sunnyikemen and @ikemenlibrary ! My giftee for this round was @nightghoul381 ! GHOULIE!! I squealed when I saw your name in the info message!! Hope you enjoy!🥺❤❤

The night is warm and quiet, every other soul in the palace is fast asleep, distant songs of nocturnal birds make for the perfect background noise to enjoy the company of a good book under soft candlelight…and Emma makes the most of it.

If only she could trade her companion for the night with the one person she misses the most right now.

Tonight too, she prefers being in Nokto's room instead of her own, surrounded by the comforting presence of all things reminiscent of him. The scent on his pillow is becoming fainter with every night he's missing from home and Emma's heart aches for him.

It won't be much longer now. That's what she tells herself as she flips another page.

The letter she used as a bookmark lays open on the coffee table as she'd delayed her pastime just to look at the words inside once again. The evidence of that longing being shared, as Nokto wrote about how much he misses her while he's abroad. How much he wants to kiss her. To hold her in his arms.

He's always been good with words, pressing all her buttons as he selects them carefully to get a desired reaction out of her. The sultry tone of his voice is nowhere to be found yet he doesn't even need to utilize that little curve to the end of his spoken sentences that makes her legs weak; Emma finds out that she can fairly well hear it all in her head as she reads the letter anyway. And Nokto wrote some unspeakable things.

Laying comfortably on his couch now, book held up by a single hand, Emma finds that it's becoming harder to chase after the words in the book. Soon the protagonist takes the visage of Nokto in her mind's eye, and she loses the fight. It's no good when her other hand is unoccupied; it finds the way between her legs all too soon, too easily.

"Ngghh… Nokto.."

It's a small whisper in the night, too weak and too far away to reach the one it's meant for. That's what Emma knows for sure, getting lost in pink-tinted visions produced by her imagination; and so the soft turning of the doorknob falls on deaf ears.

Nokto enters quietly, knowing his Emma well enough to find her in his room - and strangely, knowing her too little to expect she is missing him… that much. Before he knows it, he becomes the bigger pervert in the room as he silently admires the way her fingers would never be enough to resemble his presence. Deep down, he loves that fact more than he pities her. But despite himself, he's soon to coo and reveal himself.

"Are you in trouble, my dear? Those lovely sounds don't sound quite right to me… You need more."

Emma gasps, reasonably startled as she hurries to retrain some decency and pulls down her nightgown where it rode up her waist. Her eyes are big and starry, and Nokto doesn't wait for a reply before he leans down over the couch's back and captures the lips he missed the most.

The kiss comes as a silent 'I missed you' when they both skipped saying it out loud, and quickly morphs into something far less innocent. Almost like a fight to prove one missed the other more.

Emma puts her warm hand on Nokto's face just as he withdraws for air, and she is just as breathless when she attempts to speak out loud. "Are you real?"

Nokto smirks, the red of his eyes stressed by the flickering candlelight. "I might just be real. Or maybe my little vixen's fantasies have become that vivid and tangible."

"Noktooo… don't tease…"

He finds himself tugged down, two hands wrapping securely around his neck until he can't take on the task of removing his coat as planned. It's only fair if she wants more proof of him being real here and now, he'll give her plenty.

It's only after a couple more fierce kisses that Nokto finds himself getting undressed, as Emma makes it up to him by doing it herself. Articles of clothes fall to the ground as suddenly there's nothing in Nokto's way to claim his long-waited prize for being away from home for so long.

"When I found a way to return earlier, I did all in my power to take on the opportunity. I had to see you."

"Nokto…"

"I had to make love to you again before I can forget the taste of your lips. I can't live without it."

Emma's body shudders as Nokto finds the place that aches for him the most, rubbing soft circles on her nub with his slender fingers. She's dripping wet from when she was playing with herself earlier and is quick to whine in protests of not enough.

"Shhh. Be patient. I want to take things nice and slow- Fuck. Emma."

His gaze darkens with lust as he stares her down, from her expression to the hand that mischievously reached down to his crouch to give him a firm squeeze.

"You can't wait to have me either, so why wait? Darling…" Emma asks in a tiny voice that comes out muffled behind her hand. Nokto is fast to capture it in his own and pin it down over her head.

"Why wait, indeed. My clever little Emma."

Taking hold of her leg, Nokto raises it up until it hangs over the edge of the backrest, giving him full access to her glistening pussy. Not even having fully shimmied out of his trousers yet, Nokto leans down until his body is flush against Emma's, and presses his cock against her entrance.

Emma mewls so sweetly as she feels Nokto enter her, her body shivering in ecstasy as she'd prepared it for a much lesser stimulation tonight. Her previous arouse makes Nokto's entry slippery and the noise of their coupling soon begins to fill the night. It's dirty and it's perfect.

Just as Emma gets close, her moans growing in volume, Nokto suddenly halts his movements. She looks at him with a red face and with question marks in her eyes. Nokto is frowning, albeit with a face equally as flushed as hers.

"I thought about this all week. About the possibility of coming to you earlier, and how I'll make our reunion a night you'll never forget. I'd sweep you off your feet wherever you are in the palace, take you back to our room and put you on the bed. I'd take my time undressing you like a present, pressing kisses against all those places that entered my dreams the previous lonely nights. I'd bury my head between those pretty legs of yours and remain there until you're screaming to me all the things you want me to do to you next, making your juices drip down my chin so I can never forget your taste again. And then I'll… then I'll just fuck you. Until we both take our fills."

Emma's breathing grows erratic as she feels herself coming undone, the sensation of him picking the speed up again and his filthy words that her brain barely manages to register, it's all too much. She screams as her walls clamp down on him hard, a strong climax ripped out of her with each thrust of Nokto who just gives her more and more, the way she wanted it and needed it.

"And then I open the door and you're- fuck- you're here touching yourself, moaning my name- and what am I supposed to do other than to claim you on the spot? You turned my plans to dust. You…"

With a groan, Nokto feels himself being dragged over the edge by Emma's pulsing walls, her warm, tight core milking him of all he has. He shoots his load deep inside her, painting her insides white. He remains thrusting into her shallowly, chasing after the last drops of pleasure he can squeeze out of both of them.

They turn into a content pile of entangled limbs on the couch, heavy breaths and soft smooches on whatever part of each other's face they can reach. Emma's pleasure-marred, sore throat voice reaches Nokto's ears.

"Hehe…I'm sorry?"

It takes him a second, all too lost in the sea of afterglow and warm emotions, to realize Emma is apologizing for spoiling his fun. He can tell she's not all that sorry at the same time, and it paints his chuckle a bit sarcastic. There's a hint of teeth to his next kiss, and he finds her mood to be just as playful, despite how blissed out she seemed just a second ago.

"Maybe we can make up for it and go with your version for round two." Emma suggests, putting her hands on Nokto's chest to push him out of her. Once they're both seated up, Nokto caresses the back of her head, his affirmative low humming enough to let her know just how much he's looking forward to that.

"Surely you don't mind if I grab a bite of your dessert before that? Out of all the things I missed about you, your baking is pretty high on the list you know."

"Nokto, no!"

Emma tries to warn him, but it's too late, as Nokto's chewing suddenly pauses, the reason clear as a day - he tasted the carrots in the slice of cake he just forked a bite of.

"N-Nokto, don't frown now! I didn't know you were coming home tonight, remember! God..!"

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[deepspacexavier]

[lingering]

{ Reminder that Xavier addresses non-emoji anons as random citizens }

---

kiss meme: [ lingering ] a long, slow kiss filled with emotion and desire

"You want to what?"

Xavier blinked a bit dumbfounded at the citizen who'd approached him on patrol. Normally it's not beyond him to skirt around these sorts of ridiculous requests from fans, especially given the Lumiere movie's latest released and success. But...

It's been a week since he saw MC out with another man. Some would say her boyfriend. Xavier happened to be passing by to catch them in a romantic embrace reminiscent of the way every romantic movie ends. He sees it in his sleep. He feels his lungs struggling for air worse than any wound ever delivered by the worst wanderers he'd ever faced.

The memory is burning. His face is hot.

"Okay."

He dives in, capturing the girl's lips, moving slowly, like its someone else, like he's not the one on the sidelines, like its her. Reason has given way to all the jealousy coursing in his very soul. If it's on the news tabloids later, he doesn't care. None of it matters now. Not anymore.

[failedaethercore]

Another chapter

So...I wrote that last mini fic I posted, but had this brewing for a couple weeks in the back of my mind, so...I just wrote it.

Obviously (if you read the last one) this is only my third fic ever. So I apologize for any inconsistencies or poor writing. I'm trying to improve.

Enjoy, and please feel free to let me know if you have any requests, I am willing to try!

Pairing: Rafayel x MC (reader, usage of "y/n")

Content: Some drama, mostly fluffy at the end.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

Rafayel twirled his paintbrush idly in his fingers, he was distracted, lost in deep thought as he remembered your last visit.

He had always put up a strong, flirtatious front. He always winked and smirked, and said something to put you on edge, especially when he could pull a clever innuendo out and make you blush first.

But more often than not, your straightforward and candid remarks, gentle and innocent touches, would drive him wild, causing his ears to turn a deep shade of pink. His blood would boil in his veins, unable to control himself whenever your naiveity showed, while you drove him closer to the boundary between respecting your boundaries, and tipping over the edge into taking what he wanted.

You had forgotten. Again. And that in and of itself was enough to drag his heart into depths of sorrow reserved only for those who lost their soulmates to the deep undercurrents. So when you fell back into his life…heh…more like, he tempted you as subtley as he could. The coral he had ground into paint was no mere coincidence. He knew what he was doing, and had hoped that somehow, in some way, you would be pulled in.

He had heard of your new position as a Hunter, so he had hoped you would be a part of the investigation. When Thomas let him know via text a Hunter had come to investigate his paintings, specifically the one that Raymond had bought before his death, he wanted to sing. But when he discovered it was you yourself, he was ready to dance as if there was a bonfire in the center of his studio. He was selfish to drag you back into his life, but he was done being the silent observer. His heart had grown too impatient, too ravenous.

Too weak.

But he gave in to the temptation, finally. His heart had won, and he was slowly playing this game with you, trying to tempt you to choose him, one more time.

Except…

Every small glance, every tiny smile, your angry face when you argued with him, the way the light reflected in your eyes when you laughed. They made his heart beat faster, his temperature rise, and his eyes darken. It would make sense to him, except you were so innocent now. Your memories would flash in your dreams, but never linger long enough to make him feel comfortable to reveal the truth. When you would mention those dreams…or sometimes, nightmares, his heart ached and growled against his ribcage, begging him to tell you. But you would remain in the dark until the day you remembered on your own.

He couldn't thrust the past sins of both your lives onto you, when you were innocent now. He would wait to let those memories resurface on their own, and let himself enjoy the time he has with you now, before the burdens of history rip you from his arms again.

He got to see you often right now, and you had come to rely on him, even if only a little. His heart sung when you would call him out of the blue, or send him a poke for no reason. You wanted to see him, to hear him, you wanted him to think of you, too. But he never needed a reminder to think of you. His heart would never let him forget you, even when he had wanted to. You were his soul, his devoted follower. His heart of itself.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

But now he was consumed by the thoughts of you, as it had been so long since he last heard from you…your recent silence was driving him slowly mad.

He dropped the paintbrush when the phone rang, his thoughts had dragged him far away into the depths of the ocean to reminisce. At first, his irritation overwhelmed him, but then he held a glimmer of hope. Could it be…?

It was Thomas. He left a voicemail mentioning an upcoming interview for a magazine. He had been really putting the pressure on him lately to be better at his media presence. But he sighed angrily, and threw his phone across the studio. It fell with a thud under the sofa, as he reclined against his elbow, sitting halfway up his ladder and staring at the unfinished painting before him.

The blurred smears of color weren't right yet, and he was already annoyed because of that. But you hadn't called him in two weeks. He knew you were on a mission, but the fact that you hadn't so much as checked in once yet, he was ready to snap. You usually at least sent him a text or something by now, just letting him know you were alive.

He refused to text you first, he wasn't the needy type. He meant it. He wouldn't cave. He wouldn't give in. You were the one being childish. Not him. He would hold out until you came to him first.

But when Thomas called again, and wouldn't leave a voicemail, but kept ringing back again and again until Rafayel picked up… He finally picked the phone up from under the sofa, and sighed as he answered. So when Thomas was saying that his bodyguard had ended up at Akso Hospital in critical condition, he didn't hesitate to drop everything and run. He didn't even bother to remember his phone, let alone change out of his wrinkled and paint-splattered clothes. He drove like a madman, the wheels of his sports car squealing whenever he took a turn too hot, and he didn't even apply the brakes if he could avoid it. Running lights whenever he could, if it weren't for the fact that the roads were quiet, he would have been pulled over and arrested for endangering the public.

He pulled into the emergency vehicle loading zone, parking and dashing in, ignoring the shouts of the understandably frustrated paramedics and drivers who now had to deal with his haphazard parking job. He sprinted to the reception desk, immediately asking for you by name.

"And what is your relationship to y/n l/n?" The gentleman behind the desk was clearly exhausted and overworked, nearing the end of his shift, as he glowered up at Rafayel's handsome face. Rafayel didn't even miss a beat, stating bluntly, as if you had agreed ages ago to this arrangement. "My fiancee, she's just been admitted in critical condition, where is she?" The gentleman takes a moment, before making a quick and quiet call to someone on the phone. After hanging up, his face hardened into indifference, as he looked up at Rafayel and motioned down the hall. "She's already been admitted to room C127. You can wait outside until the nurse is done in there."

Rafayel strides to the room without so much as a nod, and grabs the door handle. Before he can open it, he hears a long, painful groan from inside. Your voice. It sounds like you're in agony. He throws it open, shouting your name before the nurse can shush him for being loud.

Your body is laying on the hospital bed, weak but still very much whole. Scratched and battered, and clearly not doing well, but you are not missing anything that he can see. Maybe some hair got chopped off somehow, but you look beautiful to him regardless. He would love you even if you came back as a sea cucumber in the next life, he didn't care.

So when you locked eyes with him, startled by his shout and the slamming of the door, your blood ran cold. You had dropped your phone at some point, the screen shattered and the special hard case you had gotten completely useless, so the entire mission your mind had nagged at you at how worried he must be. You spent all your time teasing and sometimes flirting, but you hadn't been able to shake this feeling that you needed to tell him something more. Your thoughts had drifted to him frequently while you were out on your mission.

So when things started going wrong, and you mean very wrong, you couldn't let him know to wait for your call, or to assure him you were going to be okay, that your wounds were mostly superficial. His eyes, piercing and intense, bore a hole into your heart as if he was trying to make you pay for your betrayal, as if you had broken a promise from centuries past that you had made with him. You quickly tried to cover yourself in a defensive position, even from the bed.

The nurse immediately began to scold him, but he ignored her, as other staff began to run over at the shout. He was about to be escorted out, when you called his name. "Rafayel…" He stopped struggling against the orderlies in that moment. "Y/n! Tell them! You're my fiancee, are you not?!" You blinked through tears of fear, the repercussions of your actions would be indeed steep. "Yes! He is my fiance! Please, let him stay!"

The staff release him soon after, deciding to let it go. Before he could take a step into the room, he was pushed past by a tall, black-haired doctor. He felt familiar, but he couldn't place him. The door was shut shortly after with a cold, short "please give me a moment, she is my patient." And Rafayel stood there, dumbfounded. And a little embarrassed.

He glanced around as people whispered and stared, until he went to sit down outside the room on the chair, and folded his arms impatiently.

He was tapping his leg in annoyance until the door opened again. He stood and watched as the doctor left. He noted now that he was very handsome, and a pang of jealousy gripped his heart as he watched him solemnly nod to you in the room, and then ignore him on his way out. The nurse left shortly after.

You were laying there, in the room. You looked a little haggard now, as if the doctor's words had drained the energy out of you. He strode in, reaching your side in three long steps, only to grab your unbandaged hand and squeezing it.

You were looking down at your hand, as you tried to brace yourself for the barrage of questions, accusations, and the inevitable fight. But suddenly you felt tears on your hand, as his eyes blankly stared at you, large tears rolling down his gorgeous face. Your eyes locked onto his, and he nearly burst into an argument on the spot.

But you held your other hand up to stop him, before he could vent his anger. "I know. I messed up." His eyes softened as he took your other hand and pressed it to his cheek. "Don't do this to me, y/n…" The tears wouldn't stop, he was so angry. He had stayed home for weeks, absolutely worried sick over you, and the first thing he learns is that you've been injured like this, and you just ignored him instead of letting him know yourself.

Then he saw tears, returning his overwhelming emotions with your own. "I'm sorry…my phone…it got damaged…" You keep your hand clasped in his, the other still gently stroking his face. His eyes softened until he found himself holding you, his face buried in your neck. "Don't you dare ever do this again. Never again. You have to tell me when things happen…you must come back to me. Every time. In one piece." Before you could make another move, he scooched you over so he could sit beside you and hold you close. "This is why I hate your work…why can't you just be my bodyguard, and never leave my side? You're not supposed to be hurt like this, y/n…"

You wrapped your arms around him and held him for a moment. Your partner had kept you mostly safe, as he could handle himself, but you had fallen down a hill because of a misstep, which was the main cause of your obvious injuries. This was the first time in a very long time you had needed so many bandages, you usually just needed a quick patch on your way home. But this time you had messed up. You were such a clutz sometimes. But you would berate yourself later.

This man, this beacon of confidence and light-hearted whimsy, who always came bounding into your days with a smirk and a witty retort, was trembling in your arms, as if his world was shaken to its core. You stroked his back and buried your face in his collarbone, sighing softly in his warmth, as you waited for his quiet sobs to subside.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

He was on top of your treatment plan after that, talking to the nurses, and even Zayne, your primary care physician. They were cold and calculated with eachother, and Zayne seemed especially displeased when he now knew the supposed relationship between you two, but you knew it was because Rafayel had wanted to see you right away, he didn't want to be hindered at the entrance. He didn't love you like that, but you were happy that he cared so deeply, nonetheless.

Zayne took him aside and spoke with him frankly in private, and you couldn't help but overhear some of what was said outside the door, as Rafayel was questioned mercilessly about his intentions, if he was lying, and if he truly even cared for you. When he flat out stated that he loved you and would die for you, your cheeks bloomed red, and you sat frozen to the spot, unable to move ever again.

When a nurse brushed past the two men glaring eachother down outside your hospital room, you were forced to focus on something else, as she mentioned you should be able to leave tomorrow, as your injuries turned out to be almost all superficial in nature. You had been covered in blood, scratches, and some severe bruising when you had arrived, but there was no internal bleeding, no deep gashes, no major bloodloss. Your Hunter partner was elsewhere in the hospital receiving treatment, and she advised you to be more careful from here on out, as she wouldn't be there tomorrow to see you released. The scolding smarted, but when the two men came back in after the nurse left, the room's atmosphere dropped to a point below freezing, as the two of them still hadn't reached an understanding.

"Um…Rafayel, this is Zayne…he's my doctor, and childhood friend…uhh…Zayne…this is Rafayel…he's…" you trail off, unsure what he was to you. Were you just friends with a deep bond? You didn't want to overstep his boundaries, making assumptions on his behalf. "Her lover." He stated flatly, still glaring at Zayne with a firey rage. Zayne maintained his aloof nature, glancing away from Rafayel to look at you. Your bright blush returned as you didn't argue the point in any way, and that seemed to answer the question he had.

"…I see." He nodded curtly to you. "Then I will leave you two to talk… Make sure she gets plenty of rest after this, and don't let her move around too much, she's still wounded." He turns to leave, before you have a chance to say anything to the contrary, and you are left in a storm of emotions, overwhelming and causing your heart to bob in your chest like a buoy at sea. Did he mean that? Did he want that…why would he say that to someone so important to you, without asking you first…you swayed between anger and fear, to warmth and joy at the idea that he wanted you to be in a relationship with him like that.

Before you can speak, he puts a finger to your lips. "Shh. I'm not going to force this, but…I was honest, what I said." Your heart flutters at that. Normally you wouldn't be swayed by his words like this, but his eyes were full of honest determination. He held your hands as he looked into your eyes. "I'm going to let you choose. But know that I want this…" He kisses your knuckles as he continues to stare into your eyes, holding you transfixed.

You gave it a lot of thought before you gave Rafayel an answer, and surprisingly, he didn't push the issue. He did spend a lot more time with you lately, making sure you ate and relaxed. He kept an eye on your bandages while you healed, and kept your mind busy with games and chatter all day when he dropped by. He almost lived at your apartment for a few weeks, so much as to even meet Xavier on his way home from the hospital himself. The two also didn't get along, and you found them outside your door having a silent argument, when you came out to see what was taking him so long to come back with the snacks.

"R-rafayel…this is Xavier…he's my partner. We go on missions together." Rafayel's eye twitches with jealousy at the mention of it. Xavier gives a faint smirk of smugness. "Xavier…this is…Rafayel…h-he's my…l-lover."

And in that instant, Rafayel's heart burst, and his smug smirk outshone even the sun. You had made your decision in that moment, without having any thought behind it. It just felt right. Xavier nodded quietly. "Well…I'm back, we'll talk soon at work…" Xavier turned to leave, and you gave him a smile and a quick "uh huh". Before he had taken even a step, Rafayel was pulling you into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

You let out a scared gasp as he pinned you to the wall beside the door, and looked into your eyes, searching, pleading that it was true. "…are you sure?" You swallow hard, blushing deeply, before you let yourself finally nod silently. He smiles brightly, and takes your face into his hands gently, before placing a soft kiss to your lips. "Good. I was growing impatient."

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

a/n: I wanted something that pulled on some of the lore that really made you think about how Rafayel approached MC in general. I dunno, writing this made me happy. ♡

[angelasscribbles]

Mortal Ascension Chapter 1: Arrival

Series: Mortal Ascension

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret (Romance Club)

Word Count: 854

Rating: MA

Warnings: None

A/N: Here we go! Fair warning, I am planning to change a lot of things so don't expect everything to line up with canon. There will also be polyamory involved. If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for this, just let me know. If you missed it, there is a prologue here.

Romance Club fanfiction master list.

All of the things: Master List.

Eden McClain was sucked into a swirling vortex of light, hurtled through dimensions, and deposited out onto hard-packed dirt. She landed unceremoniously on her ass.

Picking herself up, she brushed at the dirt on her pants and gazed around, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

She was standing in a vast barren landscape; the sky was dotted with vortexes like the one she had just come through. They were constantly opening and closing, a new person falling from them onto the ground each time they did.

After all, there were, on average, two deaths every second on Earth.

She knew she was dead, but she couldn’t say how she knew it. She had no memory of her death. Her fingers flew to her temples, where a headache throbbed. What had happened?

She scanned the environment for clues.

Angels and demons walked among the newly dead, touching them on the shoulder and then pointing them in one direction or the other. Eden turned her head to see what they were being pointed to.

To her far left was a vortex, like the ones in the sky, but oriented so you could walk into it. Indeed, there was a line of souls walking toward it, stepping in and disappearing. It was bright, giving off a warm, golden glow.

To her far right was another similarly oriented vortex, but this one was pulsing with dark energy. Black sparks flew from the opening. There was also a line for it, with some people stepping through and others being pushed. She watched as one desperate soul broke free and made a run for it. A futile attempt, as it turned out. A grinning demon grabbed the man using one arm and flung him through with a bellow.

An angel with flowing white robes approached her. His hand reached toward her shoulder, then stopped as his eyes widened. He pointed not toward either vortex, but behind her. She turned to see a small white gazebo. It looked out of place sitting in the middle of the desolate, dry landscape. An oasis in the midst of chaos.

She turned and hurried to the small pavilion, casting a glance back at the human souls being sorted into the portals to heaven and hell.

She knew where she was. Umbra. The place between realms where human souls arrived after their mortal death. Her mother had explained that much to her. But Eden wasn’t strictly human, and her mother hadn’t explained, or perhaps hadn’t known, what would happen to her after her mortal death.

Of course, no one expected her to die so young. She should have had more time.

As she approached the gazebo, a figure materialized in it. Judging from his white hair, robes, and wings, he was an angel, but the scowl on his face was more reminiscent of a demon if you asked her. He glared at her as if he already hated her, though they hadn’t even met.

She gave him a hesitant, hopefully disarming smile as she climbed the gazebo’s steps. “Hi, I’m Eden Mc—”

“I know who you are.” The angel snarled. “Another abomination.”

Her steps faltered. “What?”

“Your parents should be ashamed of breaking all the laws of heaven and hell.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Ignorant too. Wonderful. I see they didn’t bother educating you about your true nature?”

Her chin lifted definitely. “I’m not ashamed of what I am.”

“Hm.” He barked a short laugh devoid of any actual humor. “Well, you should be.”

Anger flared through her, enough to forget to be scared of her strange new circumstances. “You should be ashamed of your rudeness! It’s not very angelic. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you have no right to speak to me that way! My mother—”

The soft chuckle that escaped him was genuine this time. “Feisty. Keep that. You’ll need it where you’re going.”

Her chin lifted again as she pushed down her anxiety. She would not let this being know she was frightened. “And where am I going?”

“The Lyceum in Concordia.”

“What is the Lyceum? Where’s Concordia? Who are you and by what right—”

His smile vanished, replaced by his original scowl. “You ask too many questions.”

“I think I have a right to know where I’m going.”

“Fine.” He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “The Lyceum is an institute of learning for beings with demonic or angelic energy. Even mongrels dulled with human blood like you. You’ll be properly educated there.”

He reached for her, but she jerked away. “Who says I’m required to go anywhere with you?”

Malicious amusement slid behind his eyes. “The high council that rules by divine right on behalf of Yatsar, that’s who.”

“But who are you?” she demanded again.

His face twisted into a mask of anger. “Fencio, the archangel in charge of the Lyceum. Now stop being a truculent child! I have better things to do today than deal with the likes of you.”

He lunged for her, grabbing her by the shoulder, and they both misted out of existence.

[thebarontheabyss]

Do the characters of your story like children? If they don't, why? What do they think when they see one? How do they act around them? Did they have children in their previous lives? Is there anyone who would adopt the soul of a child if they met one? Would the ROs do it if MC suggested taking care of one together?

This is a tough one - half of what I want to say is in heavy spoiler territory. 😪

TBOTA deals with themes of familial relations, so a lot of the characters have one or two of these connections that I will explore in the near future. It's also worth noting that while spirits can engage in many physical activities akin to mortals, procreation isn't one of them.

Death's encounters with children are inevitably somber, given the nature of their role. There's a gentleness and care in their approach to them, and they often find them as much an enigma as mortals in general. Death, amidst their eternal duties, never had the opportunity for children of their own. The concept of having a family seems like a distant, unattainable dream under their current responsibilities.

To Lilith/Damien, children are more of a nuisance than anything else. They view the idea of having children as rooted in selfish desires, and while they acknowledge their own self-centered nature, raising children is far from their interests.

Morgan/Morgana's attitude towards children varies. They could appreciate the company of an intelligent and curious child, seeing a potential for mentorship. However, they lack patience for what they perceive as foolishness. Deep down, there's a yearning to pass on their knowledge, much like their father did.

For Hastur, children represent the purest form of innocence among mortals – something worth safeguarding at great personal cost - and he may have already done just that. His protective instincts are especially strong when it comes to the young and vulnerable.

Yaga's history with her own children is complex and painful, marred by a tragic outcome. Now, her patience for children is thin, often manifesting as annoyance. Yet beneath her harsh exterior lies a hidden tenderness, a remnant of her maternal nature.

Peisinoe is clear about not being fond of children. They prefer the spotlight to themselves and have no desire to share it with their offspring. Their life and performances are their primary focus, leaving no room for raising children.

Shelly dreams of a large family, reminiscent of the one she cherished in life. Unfortunately, this dream is dead, just like her - another regret of a life not lived.

Once, long ago, He Without Name had a child. It's a distant memory, wrapped in the mists of time, but it remains a poignant part of his existence.

Valuing freedom above all else, The Raven shies away from the responsibilities that come with raising young. Their life is about exploration and adventure, not being tied down to parental duties.

[somaspice]

Disillusion, an Oneiric Dungeon Crawler

Disillusion, and its sequel DisillusionST, are games I've been following intently, ever since I found out about them on a niche vaporwave forum three years ago.

The sequel is still in the works, but recently has garnered quite a bit of attention as Vinesauce played it on stream. Such attention is well deserved, as the dev's artstyle has come into his own, and the game showcases many extremly charming vingnettes reminiscent of early 2000s point and click games.

However, for this post, I'd like to focus on the original work. While Disillusion is much more primitive in every aspect compared to the demo of ST, it still manages to be a very worthwile experience.

As flawed as it might be because of it's janky combat and color-vomit art direction, the execution of it's main concepts is still very worthy of praise.

In the original game we play as Golem, an amnesiac soul climbing a tower with the intent of achieving either nirvana or reincarnation.

(My interpretation of the MC, made in Blender)

As it turns out, there are many wayward souls in the same journey. Most of them, however, have become lost and succumbed to insanity, as the more time one spends in the tower the more one's memories begin to meld with everyone else's.

In our travels we meet and become allies with Melpomene, the muse of tragedy. She asks for our help in defeating Mara, the buddhist version of the devil, who has perched itself on top and trapped all of the wayward souls. She intends to use the tower to transform itself into a god and remake the universe in it's image.

As for the game itself it is mostly a silly, psychedelic romp through a kaleidoscopic dungeon. Even though it's main themes are spiritual and introspective, the game is mostly meant to be fun and light.

For example, there is a sidequest where in you have to smuggle sweet corn for the obese monarch of a fish kingdom.

Because of this, the game can go from an off kilter-joke to something quite somber in the span of minutes.

It's definitely weird, but it adds to the experience in my opinion.

Wanting to truly immerse myself (and make some fun content), I asked the dev the recipe for one of the game's healing items, a PBJ sandwich. PBJ stands for pickled pork, beans, and jelly. It's supposed to cure poison.

I cooked it up and felt a bit poisoned afterwards.

In any case, if you want to hear my full thoughts and see my culinary experience, you can check it out in the video review on my youtube channel.

See ya next time.