#Anomaly's Gallery

[anomalous-root]

chapel of the restless dead

[anomal-studios]

Doodle of arc 3 Sora I made earlier, the long hair really is his look!!

I love it!!!!! Thank you dear! Am glad you agree! ^^

[anomalyztheseries]

Who are the Sisters?

Only glimpsed in S1E4, S1E9 introduces a paramilitary cult of mysterious robed and masked women. These women and all of their variations scattered throughout the multiverse will come to be known as the Sisters.

Zane and Ace had assumed that every return home from their time travel adventures rewrote the future, canceling out the consequences of their crimes. This changes when they discover access to the Multiverse. Zane and Ace begin encountering different variants of this strange cult in the different timelines they visit.

They are often masked, always robed, always armed to the teeth. Some Sisters are men, but most are women who, somehow, know who Zane is... and become a major pain in her ass.

Who are the Sisters? And who are their Big Sisters? Only time will tell.

[CREATOR’S NOTE: “The Sisters were originally called Little Sisters, but then I remembered Bioshock exists, and it’s being made into a movie. So Sisters and Big Sisters it is.”]

Images generated by Midjourney AI. Video generated by RunwayML Gen-2 Image-to-Video. Story and concepts by M.J. Romanowski. Copyright © 2023 M.J. Romanowski. All rights reserved.

[abysmal-black]

tag dump, we're getting organized

[deepspace-scenarios]

[scenario/drabble] In shining armour

LIs get protective when a stranger purposely bumps into you. (they're livid but they're on a date so no murder is allowed)

Genre: fluff

SYLUS

The moment the stranger shoves past you, Sylus’s grip tightens around his car keys. “I'll be just a moment, sweetie,” His voice is calm, measured.

And then he's gone. He disappears in a cloud of mist, and reappears close to the offender to cut them off. It happens all too quickly- a shift in the air, then a strangled sound, and the heavy thump of someone hitting the ground with a weaker, muffled groan.

When Sylus returns back to you, he ruffles your hair gently, taking care to tame any messy strands before he drops his hand.

“Sylus, did you just-” You grasp at words, trying to piece together vocabulary about the past twenty seconds. He watches you fondly as you pat his jacket down in your frazzled state, as if the minor tussle would have done anything at all.

“But I thought you don't pick fights with people that aren't worthy." Is what you settle for telling him.

“While that is true,” he murmurs, “I end fights with those who overestimate themselves,”

_____

XAVIER

You gasp in the aisle as the stranger jostles you, sending you stumbling backwards into a bookcase.

Xavier’s hand is suddenly at your elbow, steadying you- but his gaze locks onto the offender with an uncharacteristic sharpness. He then quickly pulls your cap lower, “Eyes down,”

And in a blink, he's gone.

“Watch it,” he you hear him say calmly. There's a rusle of fabric as the stranger turns, confused, only to see a bright flash, and a yelp.

Xavier guides you away from the bookstore without a backward glance.

“Strange,” he muses, fingers lingering at your back, “How they needed just a bit more light to watch where they're going,”

You raise an eyebrow at the barely-concealed threat in his words, but you can't help but smile when he pouts at you.

"What? I was protecting you,"

You tap his nose lightly, effectively erasing his pout. "And what a way to describe it, my favourite hero,"

_____

ZAYNE

Zayne’s arm snaps out like a barrier when the shopper rams into you with their shopping basket.

“Watch your trajectory,” he says coldly, his gaze already scanning you for injury.

The stranger scoffs- until Zayne steps closer, his voice dropping. “Apologize.”

They flee instead.

“Coward.” Zayne adjusts his glasses as he glares into the distance.

And then, with a softer voice and a hand on your elbow, he asks- “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you reply, a grin finding its way onto your face at how he's looking at you with that familiar, gentle concern. “but my heart is beating fast, doctor Zayne,”

A frown touches his brows for a brief moment- and then he speaks.

“I would rule out a medical anomaly. It's likely a physiological response to unexpected events,”

“My diagnosis- Zayne being too attractive when he shows his protective side,” you quip, a small bubble of laughter escaping when he pinches the bridge of his nose to hide a smile.

Yet, his hand remains at your back long after, a silent promise of protection.

_____

RAFAYEL

You are just lowering your arm from an interactive wall display, when someone pushes past you to get to your spot.

“Excuse you!” Rafayel’s voice rings across the gallery as the attendee excitedly places their own palm against the glowing wall.

He swoops in, draping himself over your shoulders like a human shield.

“Hey, you! She isn’t interactive art, you brute!”

The stranger stammers an apology under his glare.

“Honestly,” he huffs, steering you away and towards a different exhibit, “some people have the grace of a horseshoe crab,”

But when he holds you, his touch is gentle. “You’re my masterpiece,” he tells you. “No one gets to leave fingerprints on my cutie.”

The way his grip tightens on your waist tells you he won't hesitate to protect at any cost in the world.

_____

CALEB

Your ice cream cone hits the concrete just as the stranger gets past you.

In one fluid motion, Caleb steps around you, stopping the stranger in their tracks. His reflexes make the movement seem smooth and effortless.

“You okay?” he asks over his shoulder, voice light- but his stance is anything but. The stranger mumbles an apology under his sharp gaze.

Once they’re gone, Caleb exhales, ruffling his hair. “Damn. And that was stracciatella.”

When he pulls you close, the warmth has returned to his eyes. “Next time,” he murmurs, lips at your temple, “I’m using gravity to stick ‘em to the sidewalk.”

“Caleb-”

He grins. “Should we try a different ice cream flavour, or are you still feeling like stracciatella?”

[leejenowrld]

‘heart to heart’ moodboard and teaser

— story three (final) of the ‘love and games universe’ can be read as a standalone

synopsis

when chief pediatric surgeon na jaemin finally faces the surgery he’s been avoiding, an intricate follow-up on his six-year-old daughter haeun’s rare cardiac condition, he’s forced to confront every layer of fear and guilt he’s buried. he can’t bear the thought of losing his baby girl, and hospital policy bars him from scrubbing in. into that void steps you: meticulous, unflappable, and obsessed with finding solutions. a chance misfiled scan reveals your quiet brilliance, and when you tentatively offer to help, jaemin’s brusque “stay out of it” nearly shuts you down—until circumstances thrust you into haeun’s care, forging a bond at the bedside no amount of professional decorum can contain.

as you navigate grueling late-night case reviews, cross-reference experimental techniques, and treat ha-eun’s pre-op jitters with bedtime stories and gentle hand-holds, jaemin watches through the glass, torn between dread and gratitude. when the attending surgeon stumbles on a critical complication, it’s your daring proposal that turns the tide and jaemin must decide whether to relinquish control and put his daughter’s life in your hands. on the day of surgery, he slips into the shadowed observation gallery, heart hammering as you steady ha-eun’s trembling hand and whisper, “your dad’s rooting for you.” the procedure is a triumph, and as the team celebrates, ha-eun reaches for your scrubs, her small voice asking, “will you come back tomorrow?”—proof that healing can spring from the softest touch and bravest leap of faith. just as you kneel to answer, a doctor calls in urgency from the hallway, panic tucked beneath the calm. there’s an anomaly on ha-eun’s post-op scan. small. unexpected. enough to halt the celebration mid-breath.

in the quiet aftermath, you and jaemin find yourselves tethered by something deeper than duty, something steadier than adrenaline. he sees, in your unwavering calm, the kind of trust that doesn’t need permission—just presence. you see, in him stripped bare, the man who can’t repair what aches inside him until he lets someone else reach in and hold the pieces. together, you learn that not all operations require scalpel or suture—some demand only the kind of courage that stays when the lights go dim. you learn that some operations don’t need hands in sterile gloves but hearts brave enough to open.

comment to be added to the tag list, coming in july

[lilactwilights]

can’t stop thinking about frat gojo finally catching feelings…

it seems the world turns upside down when infamous frat bro, rich heir and resident fuckboy satoru gojo ends up settling down. 

there’s collective bewilderment that eventually lands into a generalized sense of skepticism because there’s no way him, of all damn people, chooses to waltz around campus with an all caps BOYFRIEND label slapped into his forehead, and so proudly at that.

it seems to come out of nowhere, too.

well, almost.

(you were discreet, just not enough)

you are no strangers. you have some friends in common and turns out people have seen you around him before, orbiting around each other at parties or academic endeavors at uni. you have been caught getting handsy in some dark corner of a party at least a handful of times or shamelessly exchanging spit in the least crowded places on campus in broad daylight.

a little more than a few people have seen you leave with him to god knows where, gingerly climbing up into his car as the party rages on or after you clock off at your part-time job on campus. they have caught you skipping up the stairs of whatever place together or inconspicuously walk towards the least visible bookshelves at an almost empty library, hand in hand.

more than one have noticed you disappear for a while, together, his arm snaked around your waist like it belongs in there and have witnessed you come back with a slight yet telling stagger in your step and gojo’s lazy yet smug million-dollar smile clueing anyone with two brain-cells on what your impromptu absence entailed.

(allegedly, there have been some sightings of both of you in casual strolls at the park, having dinner at a 24/7 place and sharing ice-cream down the riverside, but there’s no enough proof of all that, so to speak)

it doesn’t mean anything. 

because this is nothing more than routine for him, a fleeting adventure for the casual partner in turn and rich entertainment for the eager public consuming tabloids or spreading school gossip. 

you aren’t supposed to stay. you aren’t supposed to last more than a few weeks. if they do get a bit flexible and accept the possibility of whatever you share lasting months –as long as it is on and off, because there’s a past record of that— and even if there are considerably less reports of you two sneaking or hiding around dark in favor of casual sightings in less obscure places, you only become a full-fledged anomaly the moment talks about him referring to you as “his girl” to his team, his fellow frat bros —or whoever, really— start spreading about.

It seems the balance of the universe is a bit off when people notice his following list has decreased considerably and click on it only to find an inconceivable absence of all the usernames linked to whoever he had fucked previously. worse, he creates a whole ass story highlight with your initials and a damn stupid heart and daily spams his stories with every picture of you he seems to have on his gallery, which turn out to be many, for some reason.

or when, during a game, he happens to blow a kiss towards the section you are casually sitting at and seems to look for something after the winning score and practically disregards the trophy and the hands reaching for him in favor of holding you and spin you around, still sweaty and flushed and laughing in a picture-perfect shot that does make it to the school papers and the official university sports account.  

you quickly become the talk of campus. there’s a sentiment that seems to permeate every conversation beyond the usual mix of doubt, jealousy or surprise when you pass by with your hands entwined.

you are surprised when you finally understand it’s pity. 

because the truth is no one believes in satoru. no one believes ‘whatever you have’ will ever work out. why would he willingly tie himself down with anyone that’s not a supermodel or super-rich and throw away all the potential wildness associated with senior year is beyond everyone around you. 

he is not boyfriend material. his track record doesn’t help his case and men like him can never successfully commit at such a young age, less with someone that seems to be so different from him and move around circles he has never stepped foot into. 

within a few days, most people have decided this is an experimenting phase or a half-assed effort to appease the family that’s rumored to be on his ass for all his unsavory rendezvous. the public consensus seems to be that he will get bored and break up with you soon enough after whatever feeling or result he is after is finally on his grasp again. most are already feeling sorry for you, mocking your naivety or criticizing his heartless proceedings. sometimes all three at the same time.

it seems to affect you, somehow. you hate it, but there are days when all of it makes doubt rear its ugly head and the bitter taste of self-consciousness settles in your tongue. no matter how hard you try, you end up closing in yourself, avoiding the avid eyes eating you both up whenever you go out. 

but it’s hard to dwell on all of it when you see who the most fervent believer of your relationship is.

satoru doesn’t seem to be affected by anything. he doesn’t seem to listen to nasty words or ill-intentioned comments, only ever addressing them or shutting them down with a cold fury that only stems from whatever discomfort this provokes on you.

he has always been confident and self-assured and it’s so used to accomplish every single thing his mind has set into. success is on his nature. beyond the privileges and advantages life has gifted him with, satoru is a stubborn, passionate man. his pride is a driving force most of the time and he’ll be damned if the thing he is most proud about doesn’t work out.

because people out there aren’t privy to the late night conversations, the shared jokes and the cosmic compatibility the university blessed you both with. your paths were made to intertwine, he is sure of that. even if all of it started with a stolen kiss and sex that was supposed to be as casual and inconsequential as he was used to, there was no stopping the unexpected evolution of your shared time together. he can list all the things he liked and then loved about you and recount and pinpoint every single moment that lead him to realize that, as cheesy and mortifying as it sounds —or it sounded back then, for him—, you are meant to be.

he wrestled with that notion for months, agonized over the incipient feelings he was not familiar with and avoided even thinking about the implications of a reality he wanted so so hard to run from. but he has never been a coward. he was so close to give up something he hadn’t even tried to reach so he ultimately took a leap of faith. 

he jumped right into an abyss he had never been to but he decided you are worth the fall and whatever landing he is met with.

he knows damn well it was hard for you to trust his spiel and his promises about feelings and about trying and he swore himself that if there ever was the tiniest possibility of this ending in heartbreak it wouldn’t be because of him. 

so he learns and tries and fails sometimes and it’s so damn frustrating for him because he is not used to make mistakes but he has never been in a real relationship before so everything is new to him and so he is forced to take baby steps when all he wants to do is sprint.

he has stars in his eyes when he talks about all the plans he has for you both. he kisses you with hunger and reverence and whispers in your ear all the reassurances you never told him you needed to hear.  he gets overwhelmed when you fuck because, until the sweet heat and warmth of your body, he never knew how it was to mix the fire of primal lust and desperate hunger with the fuel of emotions and vulnerability of so many shared feelings. and god, it’s scary. but he has never felt more satisfied and happy in his life than when you are wrapped in each other during the afterglow. 

he gets a taste of insecurity and experiences scorching jealousy for the first time, because he never had the fear of losing anything or anyone at the hands of someone more understanding or compatible or soft or experienced with feelings than him. until you.

he soon finds out that you can push his buttons and pull at his most sensitive strings like no one has ever done. you hold a power over him and that is as infuriating and terrifying as it is exhilarating. he is forced to walk down a line with careful and measured steps, down a path that is as unknown as it is gratifying. he doesn’t know where it will lead or when it will end –if it even does– or if it will become steep or sinuous or keep being as calm as walk in the park you usually stroll at. 

people tell him he is not mature enough and that this is not meant to last or even be.

but satoru gojo, the infamous frat boy, rich heir and former fuckboy couldn’t give less of a fuck.

everything feels right when he is with you so he will cling to you as long as you will have him, which is hopefully forever.

(actually, he thinks he might be in love with you. but that’s a whole other thing. it might be too soon to address that one.) 

a/n: i LOVE frat gojo. i love when he is a manwhore but i also love to think of him after getting rehabilitated. he would be so WHIPPED because it’s the first time he experiences real feelings. he would be obsessed with his partner, actually. might kinda border on pathological for some and he might scare a few people with how intense he is but, hey, as long as they are both happy. we need more men devastatingly and pathetically whipped.

[crystallizedtwilight]

Hello! This is not meant to be rude or pushy in any way, but why don't you like for your art to be reposted to other platforms? Any time I’ve seen it they always give proper credit. It’s your art and obviously I respect that you don't want it but like why not? It gives exposure to the really cool drawings and art you make.

Many reasons.

1. 9/10 times my artwork is NOT credited. Seeing it credited is truly an anomaly.

2. I’m already on all the social media platforms that I want my art posted on. People on those platforms can share it from there, where the credit stays attached to my account. I don’t want my art on certain platforms for various reasons.

3. I don’t want exposure. I’m a hobby artist and I don’t do this for money or numbers. I want the people who discover my art to find their way to my accounts because they already had an interest in the subject matter. I’ve had my art exposed to large groups/go viral before and found that it attracted people who didn’t understand it and who wanted to be mean.

4. Accounts that “curate” art sometimes take brand deals, and then other artists' work is being monetized against their wishes, with the funds going to the "curator" (reposter). Credit is not enough, artists' permission must also be given and most curating accounts don't bother to ask for it.

5. I’ve had people sell my art before.

6. I've had people repost my gallery and impersonate me before.

7. I've had people edit / trace / re-color my artwork and think that made it theirs.

8. When art is reposted, the artist's comments that originally accompanied the piece are removed, sometimes removing valuable context. Worse, sometimes the reposter adds their own comments/take on the piece, which changes the meaning.

9. In this growing world of AI and theft, I think it is harmful to take the power away from artists by divorcing the content from their accounts against their wishes.

10. I like having control over where my art posted because one of my greatest joys is knowing where I can check for the interactions of those who did find it by way of their passion for the subject, and I love being able to read all of those interactions in the places I expect that art to be.

At the end of the day, I know I can't stop my art from being reposted. And it feels like now, more than ever, artists are fighting to be treated with the simplest respect. If you want artists to keep creating, please do not repost our art without our permission. Thank you.

[reomikagekin]

Oh how I YEARN for a domestic life with Sai 🤭

Before the petrification, Sai and reader were happily dating. They had met at the university, with us being the new professor. Now I don’t take Sai to be the one to fall in love at first sight, so it would take a while for him to gain feelings

I remember reading this modern au Rengoku x reader fic where the students were trying to set up the two and it was so cute 🥰 so what if the students were to do the same? I think all the teasing would push Sai into finally confessing hehehehe

Sai isn’t the flashy type so when it comes to proposing he would, in my opinion, pick somewhere quiet and romantic. Like the park at night, where the moon is shining bright causing the pond to glisten and sparkle. I know I know it’s basic 😔🙏

“I desire you to be by my side forever”

I guess he does have one thing in common with Ryusui 🤭🤭🤭

Now onto de-petification, after Sai lowkey crashes out after meeting Ryusui again he’s all like “where’s my wife…OH MY GOD WHERE IS MY WIFE?!?!?”

And Ryusui, understandably since he hasn’t seen his big brother in like YEARS, is like “YOU GOT MARRIED???”

Luckily we weren’t too far, though once we were revived Sai immediately pulls us into a hug and justs starts sobbing because he was so scared 🥺

And then after the world is fixed Sai and reader has a wedding once again cuz Sai felt bad the rings were gone :( oh and also cuz we felt bad that Ryusui wasn’t able to go to the first one

God how I love this man I need him pregnant rn WHAG WHO SAID THAT 😨😋

Binary Stars

Sai Nanami liked routines. A fresh charger cord coiled just right. Tea steeped for exactly two and a half minutes. The quiet between lectures, filled with keystrokes and the occasional frustrated sigh of a student who didn’t read the syllabus.

It was a good system. Predictable. Comfortable. Safe.

Until you disrupted it.

You weren’t loud, not exactly. Just… vivid. A new professor who taught across the hall, with a kind smile and an irritating habit of remembering his coffee order. You were the type who smiled when passing people in the hallway, who kept a stash of candy in your desk “for student morale,” and who somehow kept ending up next to him at faculty meetings, nudging his shoulder with whispered jokes until he finally—finally—smiled back.

You weren’t supposed to be anything but a temporary anomaly.

But Sai kept finding you in his patterns. And to his growing horror, he liked it.

He liked your voice as you excitedly explained philosophy like it was a new game. He liked your handwriting on shared notes. He liked how you always took your tea with honey, and how your shoes tapped against the tile in a rhythm that matched the tempo of his favorite coding playlist.

You were chaos in his life, and somehow you became his constant.

Still, it was slow. So painfully slow.

Sai didn’t do love at first sight. His heart came alive in whispers, in brackets. A slow build of trust, laughter, quiet.

It wasn’t until his students started teasing him that he realized just how deep he’d fallen.

“She brings you lunch, every Thursday, Professor Nanami.”

“You smiled at her joke and didn’t bury your face in your hoodie.”

“We literally saw you two outside campus. Walking. Together.”

He denied it all. Turned pink. Slammed his laptop shut. But he couldn’t stop himself from standing a little closer, from brushing his fingers against yours when handing over a mug, from wondering—every time you laughed—what it might be like to hear that sound at home.

And eventually, he snapped.

It was a simple date. A museum. You loved classical art, and he… well, he loved watching you talk about it. The way your eyes lit up under the gallery lights. The way you held his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Sai had never known peace like that.

Months passed. You moved in. Morning routines merged. Game nights turned into sleepy conversations curled up on the couch. You still teased him. He still blushed. But he kissed you back now, with a kind of quiet desperation, like he still couldn’t believe this was real.

He proposed in a park. Quiet. Under the moon, near a glistening pond.

“I desire you to be by my side forever,” he whispered, voice trembling.

You said yes with tears in your eyes.

Your wedding was small. No fuss. No flashy declarations. Just the two of you and a couple friends. The rings were simple—silver, etched with tiny coding symbols that only the two of you understood.

You joked he married you with cheat codes.

He said you glitched his heart.

And then…

Stone.

Panic.

Darkness.

3,700 years later

Sai hit the ground hard.

His breath came ragged — the scent of ash and moss clung to his skin like a second death. Dirt scraped against his palms. His glasses were cracked. The sun above was too bright, too real, too… wrong.

He blinked.

The sound of the wind. The leaves.

And then the silence.

Where were the voices?

Where were you?

His body trembled before his mind caught up. He staggered to his feet, knees buckling under him, eyes darting around the shattered forest. His throat was dry. His mouth opened to call your name, but all that escaped was a croaked whisper.

“Y/N…?”

A heartbeat.

Then another.

“R-Ryusui—? Anyone—?” His voice cracked. “Y/N… where are you? Where’s my—where’s my wife?”

The weight of it slammed into his chest.

The last thing he remembered was your hand brushing his as you walked beside him. You had been smiling, teasing him over how he always remembered the exact number of steps between the park’s gate and the bench you liked.

You were right there.

He had just turned to reply when that light exploded in the sky.

And now you were gone.

The panic rose like floodwater. He spun in every direction, breath catching in his throat, legs shaky. He could feel it — the thick, pressing absence of you — like his heart was glitching. Like the code had broken and he couldn’t debug it.

He ran.

Branches whipped past him. His lungs screamed. He didn’t care. “Y/N!! Please—!”

His foot caught on a root and he hit the dirt hard, shoulder-first, gravel grinding into his skin. He stayed there for a second, hands curled in the soil, shaking.

“She was with me,” he whispered. “She was right there—right there—”

His voice rose into a sob.

“I promised her forever—we were married, we—we had rings, and a life, and I—I didn’t even get to say goodbye—!”

A shadow loomed over him.

“Sai?”

His eyes shot up. That voice—lower, older, but familiar in a way that made his stomach drop.

Ryusui stood over him, sun behind his head, hair messier than Sai remembered. He was older now—taller, rougher—but that grin was still sharp.

“You’re alive.”

Sai choked. He couldn't speak. He only stared up at his brother, chest heaving.

“You’ve—” Ryusui’s eyes lit up. “You got married?! Wait, YOU?! You—Mr. Spreadsheet himself—got a wife?!”

The laugh Ryusui let out was loud and joyful, like a reunion deserved to be.

Sai didn’t laugh.

He looked at Ryusui with wide, terrified eyes. “She’s not here.”

“…What?”

“I don’t know where she is. She was right next to me when the light came, and now she’s—” He clenched his fists. “I can’t find her.”

That sharp grin dropped.

Ryusui stepped closer, crouching beside him. “You said she was next to you? Then we’ll find her. You know me—I always find the prize.”

“You don’t get it,” Sai snapped, louder than he meant to. His voice cracked. “She’s the only thing that kept me grounded in that old world. I—Ryusui, I can’t live in this one without her. I won’t.”

Ryusui blinked, then did something Sai didn’t expect.

He pulled his brother into a hug.

Not loud. Not showy. Just arms wrapped tightly around him, like he remembered how Sai used to cry during storms when they were kids.

“Then we’ll find her,” Ryusui whispered.

The Kingdom of Science moved fast.

Senku organized a grid search. Kohaku ran faster than the wind. Gen tapped his chin and watched Sai with a softer expression than usual. Chrome brought Sai water. Even Suika, wide-eyed and determined, scanned every hill and shadow.

Sai barely breathed.

And then—

“Someone’s stirring by the river!”

The voice cracked through the trees.

Sai ran.

He didn’t remember how many times he fell. He didn’t care that his lungs burned or that his muscles screamed. He only knew that the sound of your name echoing through the leaves shattered something inside him.

And when he saw you—covered in dirt and dust, blinking blearily, the faintest tilt of a confused smile on your cracked lips—

He collapsed.

“Y/N,” he gasped, breath hitching.

You looked up at the trembling man sprinting toward you, and for one terrible moment you didn’t speak—didn’t recognize him.

But then—

“…Sai?”

He crashed into you like a wave.

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you close, holding you like he thought you might vanish again. His body shook violently. He pressed his face into your neck and sobbed, truly sobbed, not caring who saw.

“You’re here,” he whispered, again and again. “You’re here, you’re here, I—I thought—I thought I lost you—”

Your hands, weak and trembling, found his.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, just as broken. “I’m here. Sai… you found me.”

He pulled back just enough to see your face, cupping your cheeks with shaking hands. “You’re alive. You’re real. I—I don’t care if we have no rings or no roof or no world left, just—please don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t.”

You pressed your forehead to his.

“I promise. You told me forever, remember?”

His throat tightened. “I meant it.”

Your lips brushed his—dirt and tears and all—and it was imperfect and desperate and everything.

The world had ended.

But you had each other again.

And Sai, for the first time since waking up, could finally breathe.

The Second Wedding

The Kingdom of Science threw itself into wedding prep like it was the next big mission.

Senku helped forge the new rings, etched in platinum with microscopic binary that read “LOVE.” Kohaku insisted on finding the perfect flowers. Gen volunteered as the officiant—“Because who else can match the drama of a love that spanned time?”

The ceremony took place in the rebuilt park—nature reclaiming the place where Sai had first proposed. The pond glistened. The moon shone.

And this time, Ryusui stood proudly at his brother’s side, beaming.

“I almost missed it the first time,” he whispered. “Thanks for letting me be part of it now.”

Sai squeezed his hand. “Wouldn’t be complete without you.”

When you walked down the makeshift aisle, wearing a simple, linen dress Senku and Yuzuriha helped design, Sai looked at you like you were the entire sky.

“I loved you before the world ended,” he said during his vows. “I’ll love you when it begins again.”

You both cried. Gen cried. Ryusui cried. Kohaku pretended not to.

Now

The world moved on. Rebuilt. Rediscovered.

Sai still liked routines. He coded on paper now, working with Senku on building a computer from scratch. You taught again—philosophy and ethics, adapted for this strange new world.

You shared tea in the mornings.

You argued about game mechanics at night.

And sometimes, when the moon was high and the air was quiet, Sai would lean over and press a kiss to your temple and whisper:

“I’m so glad I found you again.”

And you would reply, like always,

“I never left.”

[theolivetree123]

◇ Reverie's Intro ◇

*Please note that all secondary characters will not have audios in their voice claims and shorter bios!*

More info below !

◇ Basic Info ◇

Age: 19

Height: 190cm

Birthday: November 22nd

Sexuality: Omnisexual, Demiboy

Nicknames: Rev (most people at RSA), Daydream (Malleus), Revvy (Neige)

Dominant Hand: Right

Dorm: Luminstelle (my fan dorm)

Grade: 3rd year (Junior)

Favorite Food: Sugar cookies

Least Favorite Food: Onions

Likes: Magic tricks, dogs, goats, stars

Dislikes: Dishonesty, bitter foods

Hobbies: Star gazing, learning magic tricks, astrology

Homeland: Shaftlands

Family: Unnamed father and mother, unnamed younger sister

◇ Signature Spell ◇

You're a Star!

Allows the user to grant a power boost to whoever they want. While in this state, the "starstruck" (the person with the powers) gains some of Reverie's powers. This spell lasts for 3 hours.

◇ Backstory ◇

Reverie was always an optimistic boy. He always wanted to help people, and this feeling only heightened when he enrolled at RSA. Since he was the son of the headmage, Rev thought that it'd be easy to spread hope to all, but he soon found out that his goal would be a lot harder to reach. During his first year, Rev found out that there were quite a lot of snobby rich kids who got into RSA. He tried his best to whip them into shape, but he was only scolded by his father. Soon after, Rev was taught to just stand aside. "People make their own decisions, and whether they're good or bad is up to them." His father said. Reverie only frowned. It felt unfair and wrong for all these mean people to be in a school for the heroic and kind.

Throughout Reverie's time at RSA, he was told time and time again to do nothing. To just step aside and let the adults handle it. Yet, Reverie refused to listen and made it his life goal to help the needy and learn to grant wishes. In his spare time, Reverie would study and study, hoping that he'd find a way to spread kindness throughout twisted wonderland.

Reverie's biology is very interesting, as well. He is half fae, and his energy comes from his "glow." It's a diamond shaped hole on his chest that radiates light. It's Rev's source of power and energy, and without it, Rev could possibly die. Along with this, Rev has freckles that glow when he gets embarrassed or extremely angry.

These strange traits made Reverie an anomaly amongst most faes, as powers like his never appeared in either of his bloodlines. He was a first of his kind in the Daydream family. Reverie's father said he got his glow from the stars as a gift, but Reverie still wants to learn more about himself and why he was born with this glow.

◇ Relationships ◇

♡ Malleus: Reverie and Malleus used to have a pretty strained relationship since everyone assumed the two were rivals, and Rev's father wanted him to be the ruler of Briar Valley. But Reverie had a lot of respect for Malleus, and while he was stargazing, Malleus got curious and decided to join him. The two became good friends afterward, and after a couple more meetups, Reverie decided to show Malleus his glow. Malleus became intrigued and decided to make Rev his sort of "test subject."

Neige: Reverie and Neige are very good friends. The two hang out nearly every day and even share their secrets with each other. Neige has seen Reverie's glow, and Neige loves it. Neige thinks Rev is the coolest for having such brilliant powers and being so kind.

◇ Relationship Chart ◇

◇ Gallery ◇

^ Reverie's glow ^

[edensvessel]

King Asmodeus — Basics

inspired by @differentsoulsweets posts !!

note: anything tagged with a * is my own upg. everything in the epithet section are my own epithets for Him, which is why the entire section is tagged as upg.

Domains 　✦　gambling 　✦　astronomy 　✦　invisibility 　✦　luck 　✦　revenge 　✦　sacred geometry 　✦　mechanical sciences 　✦　lust 　✦　protection 　✦　love 　✦　finding treasure 　✦　arithmetic arts 　✦　handicrafts 　✦　the art of creation 　✦　craftsmanship

Epithets* 　✦　King of the Bane 　✦　Ruler of Saturn 　✦　He of the Ring 　✦　Great King

Devotional Acts 　✦　shadow work 　✦　studying (esp. maths or sciences) 　✦　learning dead languages* 　✦　learning self defense (spiritually or otherwise) 　✦　being more hands-on* 　✦　learning about space anomalies 　✦　standing up for yourself 　✦　facing your fears* 　✦　becoming comfortable with the dark 　✦　bonding with friends and family* 　✦　self care (whatever that may mean to you) 　✦　learning coin divination* 　✦　setting boundaries 　✦　for the uterus-havers, being more selfish while menstruating 　✦　putting in more effort wherever you can 　✦　wearing the colour gold on you 　✦　wearing gold jewelry* 　✦　burning frankincense 　✦　to my queer folks, embrace your identity 　✦　learning the fine line between pushing yourself and knowing your limits 　✦　create something 　✦　learn how to healthily express emotions 　✦　draw Him!! 　✦　clean your room* 　✦　organise* 　✦　support small artists 　✦　visit local art galleries or art museums 　✦　read!!! 　✦　listen to music from different time periods 　✦　alternatively, look at art from different time periods 　✦　educate yourself on queer history 　✦　listen to queer music 　✦　support queer artists

Animals 　✦　dragon 　✦　snake 　✦　goat 　✦　ram 　✦　bull 　✦　peacock 　✦　rooster 　✦　narwhal (horns)

Tarot 　✦　the emperor 　✦　the hierophant* 　✦　the devil 　✦　10 of cups*

Food & Drinks 　✦　wine 　✦　whiskey 　✦　spiced rum 　✦　steak* 　✦　meat 　✦　coffee* 　✦　pasta* 　✦　fruits* (particularly apples and berries) 　✦　chocolate 　✦　spicy foods 　✦　chestnuts 　✦　citrus (lemons and limes) 　✦　apricots 　✦　honey* 　✦　spiced chai*

Gemstones 　✦　carnelian 　✦　bloodstone 　✦　lapis lazuli* 　✦　opal 　✦　red tiger's eye 　✦　tiger's eye 　✦　garnet 　✦　black tourmaline 　✦　jasper 　✦　ruby 　✦　red diamond* 　✦　pyrite* 　✦　gold 　✦　peridot 　✦　amethyst

Other Offerings 　✦　perfume 　✦　coins 　✦　rings 　✦　playing cards 　✦　roses 　✦　imagery of wildfires* 　✦　succulents 　✦　mirrors 　✦　axe imagery 　✦　ornate sword imagery 　✦　crowns 　✦　throne imagery 　✦　black, red, or gold candles* 　✦　coffee stained paper* 　✦　dice 　✦　gold jewelry 　✦　goblet or chalice 　✦　chess pieces 　✦　chapstick* 　✦　lip gloss* 　✦　sheet music 　✦　novel manuscripts* 　✦　books relating to His domains 　✦　or any books really 　✦　anything else that may remind you of Him

[garadinervi]

Terran Last Gun, Geological Anomaly Shape, (ink and colored pencil on "Miles City, Custer County, State of Montana, record of official ballots" ledger sheet (dated 1939); Watermark: White Feather Bond), 2023 [Good Luck Gallery, Kalispell, MT. © Terran Last Gun]

[serpentface]

Tigran as a 13 year old Galenii initiate monk, bravely enduring a writing lesson.

He's practicing on broken pottery (a very standard writing surface especially in disposable contexts, as bark paper, papyrus, and vellum are all effort intensive to produce and costly) with two reed pens and an ivory inkwell. He has also doodled an extensive gallery of dogs, horses, and spearmen in the margins of one side (and probably just got his hands caned for it, as educational discipline in this society is not exactly built on positive reinforcement).

A significant portion of the duties of Galenii monks is performing scribe work for their order. On an average day, this is an endless task of transcribing texts, recording lunar astronomical observations, and the occasional dictated letter. The details of the priesthood's public rites and/or animal sacrifices are also expected to be recorded exhaustively for later review (the behavior of the animal, time until death, condition of the blood, liver, and other organs, the time taken to light and burn the offerings, weather conditions, celestial anomalies, and other potential omens are all relevant to interpreting the success of a rite). As such, full scribe training is part of the education of any initiate.

Tigran entered this position illiterate and with no prior education, and ultimately learned to write by copying before developing full reading comprehension. He has the fortune of being a quick learner, but found this educational period very frustrating (especially given that most of his fellow students had at least some prior education, and he was more or less expected to learn at the same pace) and would routinely act out as a young teenager. This was eventually disciplined out of him and he changed tact to attempting to overachieve as a student, granting him the current consensus opinion among his elders as 'talented and highly motivated yet somehow still deeply unserious'.

As an adult, he is a very accomplished writer and almost Scarily precise, having a notable ability to rapidly and accurately put down characters without even keeping his eyes on the surface. He's also fairly talented at figurative drawing. This is not in the least a required skill for his role and is more of a hobby, which he secretly utilizes in very high effort rude graffiti.

[anomalyztheseries]

ANOMALY Z S1E4: “21st Century Man” Rated TV-MA

Ace settles into his new life in the 21st century. A timeheist is interrupted by a group of mysterious and hostile robed women, who appear to track Zane and Ace through multiple futures.

Images generated by Midjourney AI. Video created with RunwayML Gen-2 image-to-video. Story and concepts by M.J. Romanowski. Copyright © 2023 M.J. Romanowski. All rights reserved.

[paintbrushnebula]

Miles 1610 becoming Spider-Man wasn't supposed to happen in the Canon but Miles 42 becoming Spider-Man was. ATSV confirmed this. The anomaly was the E-42 spider being stolen by Jonathan Ohnn in E-1610, and if we wanna take it even deeper, this was Ohnn stealing Miles G's destiny and forcing it onto Miles Classic. 

And there's where this fact becomes interesting to me. Miles G was meant to be Spider-Man. Like we got the point that our Miles wasn't meant to get bitten screamed in our ears by the antagonist so much that we can forget that yeah, this Miles Morales wasn't meant to be Spider-Man, but a Spider-Man Miles Morales was fated to happen anyway, like, Miguel can't argue with that. It's a fact. That spider was in Miles G's class, it would've bitten him if Spot and Liv Octavius hadn't had their flop duo link up like they did. 

And I keep thinking about Miles G's stolen destiny because it makes him a rare case for a Miles Morales because he was meant to be the first Spider of his universe, he wasn't replacing any previous owner of the mantle. And with the knowledge about Earth 42 that we have now, being Spider-Man sets Miles Morales off the path of inheriting the Prowler role of his reality. 

So case in point: in every universe where Miles Morales is not Spider-Man, he (eventually) becomes the Prowler. 

And from the looks of it, there aren't other Spider-Mileses. 

Imagine if our Miles is the only one. 

The life Miles G has been living is most likely the life that every variant of Miles Morales lives if a radioactive spider doesn't come and change the story. And Prowler is meant to be a villain--a villain of the week, mind you. He's not an A-lister rogue on Spider-Man's gallery and he was working loyally under Kingpin equal to Tombstone in ITSV. 

But Miles G is a special case, I feel. In the sense that he's evidently not a villain. He's had his destiny stolen and his universe has never had its Spider-Man to begin with, so there's no hero for him to go up against. E-42 is ruled by villains, which really doesn't leave him any actual opposing forces. So this absence of a hero role in a way is forcing him to step up. Miles G isn't evil, and I think a large part of that is owed to his universe's lack of a hero requiring him to play the part. There's no one else, so he kind of has no choice. 

So Miles G is also "the only one" of his "kind"--now, this is probably just speculation--he's the only Miles Morales who's the Prowler of his universe but isn't the villain. And the reason this might be possible is because the lack of a Spider-Man disrupts his full decent into that madness that (I speculate) all the other Miles Morales variants who became the Prowler are lost to every time. 

Which still makes me a little sad, because I bet Miles G doesn't fully understand how special this makes him--he's not like the others, either. Because now it's speculation that in every other universe, the story of Miles Morales is a tragedy that consumes him through the inheritance of his uncle's mantle, but Miles G hasn't allowed it to go that far. He could've gotten worse, much much worse, but instead, he chose to let his environment affect him positively and push himself to prevent his own...let's say his emotional decay from crossing the line, which is also anomaly-adjacent when you think about it, because in every other universe the Prowler is not the hero. Not according to the Canon. So he kind of broke his own Canon, too. 

And like, now that I've started thinking about this, the idea that Miles is an evil Prowler variant without the restraint of a heroless environment requiring him to act heroic makes me wonder if some of the other characters have encountered one of these in their own dimensions before. Like, Gwen and Hobie probably not since Miles probably isn't even born yet for like a couple decades but hey, Margo's dimension is modern day, so that's entirely possible. That's an extra layer of interesting for Prowlerbyte angst ^_^ 

[affectionate-team]

Sugar overdose

Trey Clover × reader

Synopsis: There's this one student in NRC... he always seems to look out for you, expressing his care and making your forced stay in Twisted Wonderland more bearable. Though there are some things about him that you stay oblivious to...

TW for: mild yandere, drugging/food poisoning (?) (basically unconscious potion consumption), stalking (if you can call it that), overall creepy-ish behavior. If you're uncomfortable with any of aforementioned topics, do not proceed, please. :з

(the whole thing might seem rushed or unfinished, forgive me if so, I'm still gaining experience in writing. ^^")

He's always been there.

Since when you first got dropped into this world, Clover has always been somewhere in sight. It was hard to stop your gaze at just one thing when there were so many wonders you'd never seen before, so you never paid him much mind, not until the Heartslabyul incident, at least. Before you could only catch a glimpse of him in the cafeteria or exchange short greetings in the halls, but the first overblot gave him a push to change the matters. First he started calling out to you when seeing you in crowd, then he worked up some courage to ask for greeting hugs (or at least handshakes when you weren't in the mood), and at some point decided to strike up a conversation: one, two, five, to the point where you'll find him approaching you almost every day, helping out with chores, carrying groceries, sharing notes and helping with homework, staying over for night, and-

When did he manage to get so close?

Windows in NRC's alchemy lab expose one's eyes to unique views; usually it's already way past noon when classes end, enough so the sun starts setting by that time, painting the vast free skies in deep shades of pink and yellow. Wisps of colorful cotton clouds frame the canvas, giving finishing touches to the majestic evening painting. And the centre piece of the gallery of nature - the biggest wonder, an anomaly of this world, not unlike a shy flower on a fragile stem blooming among concrete plates or snowdrifts, - the prefect. Rays of dying light wrap around their figure perfectly. They come here every day, doing small chores for professors with the company of the infamous duo of freshmen-troublemakers. Still, even the boys' robust nature and somewhat graceless behavior cannot spoil the picturesque scene.

He lays his books out on a table closest to windows, having already claimed the space for himself ever since he joined the Science club. At first it was all about convenience: pretty views on the school gardens give him inspiration for new recipes, wide tables allow to keep his space as neat as possible and prevent any hazards (no more spilled flasks or lost papers - much easier to work now), fresh air when the room gets suffocating or his cooking experiments go wrong.

Now it opens another, a little less innocent in nature, opportunity for the young man - to keep a close eye on the cute magicless student. Actually, when you think about it, the fact is not perverse. Is it really wrong of him, a true older brother at heart, to protect those who are weaker than him in many senses of the word? If anything, he's only doing them a favor - prefect always expressed their appreciation of his help whenever they had gotten in a difficult situation with teachers or delinquents, so surely they would've found the notion to be sweet.

Sweet is the first word that comes to mind when you talk to Trey. It's not even only about his personality (the way the man treats his dormmates alone is enough of a proof; putting others' health and wants before his own, prioritizing their happiness, going out of his way to keep things peaceful). Smell of sugar and vanilla follows him everywhere: in classes, in hallways, in his room. You can smell sugar and caramel on his uniform every time Trey comes up to you for a 'good morning' hug. It's hard to resist the temptation to press closer, if only to have more - to get drunk on the overwhelming aroma and warmth.

He'd be lying if he said the prefect's preference for good perfume went over his head. Trey heard them compliment Schoenheit and Hunt for their cologne and seen how they pull away in mock disgust when Ace gets touchy after a particularly long basketball practice. Perceptive to smell. That's where his main hobby comes in handy: when one spends a great part of their day in the kitchen, they're bound to carry out some of its homey atmosphere with hints of cinnamon.

"Good morning! Don't forget to pack your gym uniform, your class has Flying lesson today."

Isn't that nice of him to leave you little notes and reminders? His attentiveness never fails to make you swoon.

"Have you eaten yet? Remember to heat up some lunch for yourself."

"I hope you're not staying up late again? Go to bed before I come over and make sure you do personally. >:("

"Your outfit today was really cute... I mean, you sure are good at styling clothes! Just wanted to make a compliment, don't take it wrong. :)"

Though sometimes his comments sound too... personal. Have you ever actually told him of your schedule? How does he know about your preference? Even Ace and Deuce, who you spend most of your time with, don't know and don't seem to remember that much. 

Prefect favors others way more than they should. Does the spoiled lion prince deserve being pampered by them? Do the troublesome freshmen not annoy them? How can they parade around, gathering crowds around themselves, stealing hearts of each and every student they encounter, and still treat him with such disregard? "Trey's such a mom friend" this and "I wish I had an older brother like him!" that.

I don't feel the same for you.

Why wouldn't you see how I slowly burn for you?

Even now, the dessert he left at your kitchen counter in Ramshackle is lacking flaws. Even layers of frosting, small edible decorations made out of chocolate - it's an intricate work, a miniature piece of art beloved by its creator, with so much time spent over it. And all for you?

Under the plate hosting the sweet treat is a piece of paper. You carefully slip the note from under the plate and read it, eyes crinkling at the corners at the thought of somebody putting so much effort to make you happy.

"I noticed you've been gloomy all day; please, enjoy this little treat. It's a new recipe of mine, so I hope you'll enjoy this."

There was no need to sign the note - identity of the sender was as clear as day. With a fond light and eyes and a prep in step, you move to set a kettle on the stove to prepare some tea - a chamomile blend gifted to you by Jade (he did sound proud of his blends). Not able to resist temptation, you find a fork and lift a portion of the dessert to your lips, taking in its enchanting smell. Cream melts on your tongue, texture contrasting the bright filling and bringing out a new kind of flavor. Tea long abandoned, you take another bite to savor it, sighing in content.

He truly was a master of his art, especially if his work managed to bring your guard down with little to no effort. It was all too late when you noticed how the cold filling tickled your throat, or how your fingers grew colder with each second passed. Staying steady on two feet has never been so hard before, as white noise overwhelmed your senses, disorienting, separating from reality. Seconds flash by in static pictures, and by the time he approached you from behind, there was nothing to do to hold onto consciousness.

There they are now, safe in his arms, not turning or running away anymore. Cradled close to a warm chest, burning with deepest of earthy desires, full of selfish wanting and a new blossom of hope, their heart would soon answer his calling. For a magicless human is no match to the power of true love.

He will always hold you near.