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where-does-the-heart-lie · 2 months ago

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One Piece Fighting Game AU

this au is inpired by the song Heart Attack by Chuu

hope you enjoy the designs i created most of them in a 2 hr long manic episode of just nonstop designing.

More designs of the vinsmoke sibs, the donquixote brothers, Hancock, Bonney, and Kuma

ASL dialogue video

some lore ive cooked up for it and design explainations:

preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.

The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.

The school our main cast goes to is called the Doki-Doki Battle Academy and it's principle is currently Crocodile. It's previous principle was Nefertari Cobra, but maybe something nefarious happened to give crocodile the spot who knowwsssss~

Doki-Doki Battle Academy (DDBA) hosts many tournaments in their school stadium throughout the school year. The tournies act as tests for the students who are taking that field of study. There are other fields the school offers though, such as weapon crafting, medical staffing, and managing. Though, if the students in those fields with so learn fighting on the side that is also accepted.

In the Pro Fighting world, there are typically pro-league teams such as the Red Hairs and The Beasts. These teams have different levels to it such as Little Leagues (for younger fighters), Minor leagues (for adults on a regional level), and Major leagues (for profighting at a national level). You can also go solo though, much like Mihawk does.

The power system in this AU is pretty simple, different color of auras do different things, but the complexities happen when you start using the different auras in tandem. I might explain it more in depth in a different post, but i dont really know what to explain about it. mostly because i dont know everything about it, myself, yet lol

-----design talk now yippeeee-----

Luffy: i tried to make him very simple protagonist vibes, play into the genre a bit. i incorporated hearts into his design in his hat, his shirt, his arm bands, and his pants poofies. His hat was given him as a sign of love, his shirt is from his school and he loves his school, his arm bands are on his arms and he uses his arms to show his love by fighting or by hugging, and his pants arent scuffed or anything so the heart puffs on his knees protects them from getting damaged (his love protects him)

Sabo: Tried to give him a more mysterious vibe with that peacoat and hat that shadows his face. I incorporated hearts into his design in his eyepatch, his vest buttons, and his boots. His heart eyepatch covers up that nasty scar, so he's distracting himself from his past pain by focusing on his love, the buttons on his vest/hearts on his boots are more or less hidden most of the time so he tends to hide his love but when he lets his guard down (when the boot is rolled down) you can see his love plainly.

Ace: Now, i dont know if Ace will die in this au or not, but in canon, he expresses his love through his torso area, i.e. tattoo on his arm and back and also that Certain Moment, so thats where i put a big ol' heart on him. His pants are also ripped in a shape of a heart but its kinda hard to see, but its meant to symbolize how the damage he takes is his love.

Nami: All the orange in her design is in heart shapes or the shapes of tangerines, thats where her love is. I also made nami's staff a curtain rod. She uses the rod to produce wind when she summons water and then manipulates it to heat it up or cool it down. i tried to add little details like that and the bandages on her torso to show that although she's outwardly clean, she's still scrappy. Nami is in the managerial pathway at the DDBA.

Zoro: I didnt make him quite as bright or vibrant as the others, i kinda just tried to make him Just A Guy. Except for his Swords. His Swords are special, so theyre bright and saturated. I roughed him up, a bit, not too much. i made his varsity jacket be ripped open so it looks like the heart on the front was broken because zoro is very broken hearted.

Sanji: I made him look like a wannabe princely character. Very cheesy, gaudy charm. I made the hearts of his design (on his boots) look like they're sewn up. So at some point his heart was broken, but he's healing them by stitching them up with love.

Robin: The hearts in her design are hard to make out because she is hiding her love. The pink of her lacey undershirt is where the heart is and its being protected by a dark over layer. The many belts in her design, however, are meant to look like shatters in that protective layer. This is meant to represent how even though she's strongly protecting herself, that strength is still weak without any outside help. Robin uses her multiplication abilities to simply multiply the shape of her arms like how she does in canon.

Chopper: His hearts are on his viles and his hat, love was given to him when he was given that hat, and he shows his love by making his healing potions. On another note though, chopper is a Transtormationalist, which is basically the zoan fruits of this world. His model is the Reindeer and his body has naturally started morphing into that form, too. Chopper is in the medical program at the DDBA

Usopp: Usopp's hearts on his pants patches signifies the new loves he’s accepted into his once lonely life. He fights with his sling shot and his ammo is seeds he's found savaging through forests or just growing himself. the white and grey auras he commands lessen the air resistance of his projectiles and makes them go a lot faster, and once they hit their target, he makes the plant grow super quickly, like how it does in canon post-ts.

Franky: Franky's hearts are everywhere and they're bright. he doesn't hide his love and he's built love for himself to wear on his person. Franky is one of the weapon masters at the school and he's a SUUUUPER cool teacher.

Brook: the hearts in his design are his Afro and his bag. I think i read somewhere that brook has kept his Afro so that Laboon can recognize him when he sees him again and that is just so loving to me so his Afro is in the shape of a heart. His bag is also in the shape of a heart, but the bag is being weighed down by whatever he's carrying inside of it, signifying the burden of the love he carries.

Jinbei: Jinbei is a Transtormationalist, Model: Whale Shark. the heart in his design is the tattoo on his chest for his old team. He's the driver of Luffy's bus and if you do enough dialogue options with him instead of skipping the bus cut-scenes, you get the option to battle Jinbei. If you do, he takes off his jacket revealing the pro-league he used to be in and then he decimates you. it is impossible to win the battle.

Koala: the colors i used for her are peachy colors, signifying what a peach she is :)))) her goggles and the buttons on her suspenders are the hearts on her design, signifying how her love is looking out for others and how love keeps herself up.

Vivi: Her hair is a big ol heart but its upsidedow, signifying how the love she feels often makes her look at things incorrectly. Also the rips in her tights are hearts, much like ace's are. the damage she takes is how she shows her love.

Crocodile: his hook is a heart, he loves fighting. i like the idea that when a student needs a text book and and asks him for one, he gives it to them by spearing a hole through one he has in his coat and handing it to the student who has to just live with a textbook with a big-ass hole through it.

Perona: the hearts in her design are on her sleeves and on her hat. The joke about the sleeves is that she wears her heart on her sleeves. but the hat, its meant to look like more or less a cage for the heart, her love is what traps her.

Mihawk: his hearts are on his weapons, he fucking loves fighting.

Shanks: The hearts in his design are only on his torso area, the locket around his neck and the deep unbuttoned shirt makes it look like there's a heart in the negative space, and the heart patch on his jacket, the loss of his arm and the lack of something there is symbolic for the love he has given.

imma be real, i didnt put that much thought in the heart positionings for yamato buggy or law. I kinda was swept up in Hot Man, Pathetic Man, and Hot Pathetic Man.

Uta: she's based off of Cupid, so she doesn't have any hearts really in her design but her whole persona is based off of a symbol of love and how it can turn malicious.

also in general, the shines on people's hair are meant to look like a heart-rate monitor's peaks and troughs. And the shading i did just by drawing all the shading then desaturating that area

WOWEE that's a lot of designing wtf was i on when i did all this.

if you got to the end, thank you so very much for reading! i hope you enjoyed my ramblings :)

again, there is more to come with this AU so Stay Tuned, Folks!!!!!!!!!!

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reilemon · 4 months ago

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🌊Beneath the Abyss🌊

♡︎ synopsis: Lured by a haunting melody, you find yourself pulled into the depths of the sea, only to be saved by Rafayel, a mysterious merman.

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒

♡︎ cw: depictions of (almost) drowning, mermaid au , semi-public seggs, oral (f!receiving)

♡︎ word count: 6.2k

♡︎ a/n: the second story for kinktober 2024. the beginning was very fun to write for someone with thalassophobia 🙂

♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

divider by @cafekitsune

Tonight is like any other night - where you sit on a wooden bench by the cliffside and read an old book. The sky is dark as ink, the stars distant and blinking slowly. The moon hangs low and casts a silvery light, illuminating the worn pages of your book. The sea is far below, its waves like whispers, soothing your thoughts as you read. Each wave crashes against the cliff’s base in a rhythmic hum. This place seems cold and unwelcome, but it’s yours. You’ve always come here, seeking solitude that only the night can offer. The dark doesn’t frighten you—it embraces you like an old friend. You feel safe here.

But then, it happens.

A sound, soft at first, like a breath carried on the wind, slips through the night. As it drifts closer, it wraps itself around your mind, around your soul. It’s a melody unlike anything you’ve ever heard—haunting, hypnotic, and achingly beautiful. It calls to something deep inside of you, and before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re standing, the book forgotten, your feet moving on their own.

The song grows stronger, tugging at you, pulling you toward the cliff's edge. You don’t resist. You can’t. The sea below crashing, dark and deep, but it no longer feels distant or dangerous. It feels inviting. The melody grows stronger, filling the air with its melancholic beauty. It’s not the sweetness of the song that unnerves you, but the way it seeps into your bones, like the sea pulling at the shore. You take another step, the rocks beneath your feet slick and uneven, but none of it matters now. Only the song matters.

And then—you fall.

The world tilts, and the sky spins above you as you plummet toward the water. Panic grips your chest, your heart racing as you crash into the icy depths. The cold is shocking, like needles through your lungs, and the once inviting sea now feels like it has you in its grasp, pulling you under. You thrash, desperate, your limbs sluggish as the water envelops your whole being. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound escapes—only bubbles rising to the surface.

You can’t believe this is happening. You’re going to drown.

Terror floods your veins as you sink deeper, your lungs burning, the black water pressing in from all sides. The song, the beautiful, irresistible song, has led you to this cold, watery grave.

You’re sinking into the deep. How could you let this happen to you?

But then, through the suffocating darkness, you see him.

A figure, a shadow, moving swiftly through the water. His form isn’t human, but sleek and graceful. His movements are too fluid, too fast. You blink, your vision fading as the last of your air escapes in a stream of bubbles.

For a brief moment, you think he’ll leave you to this terrible fate. But then, his hands, cool and firm, wrap around your waist, pulling you upward with a strength that feels effortless. His touch is strangely gentle as he propels you toward the surface, through the crushing weight of the sea.

You break through the surface with a gasp, sucking in air as your body shakes, your limbs still heavy and numb from the cold. His grip remains on you, guiding you through the water as he swims toward the shore. He brings you to a sheltered cove hidden from the world. Here, the water is calm, the sea’s roar softened to a murmur. He releases you gently onto the shore, your body trembling, your mind reeling from what just happened.

You lie there for a moment, catching your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. When you finally lift your head, you see him.

You can’t believe it. You sit in the sand, your breath ragged, lungs burning from the saltwater you swallowed, but your eyes—your eyes are locked on him. A figure not human, not entirely, but something out of stories you were told as a child. Stories you never believed. Myths, you always thought.

A merman.

The word seems impossible, heavy and foreign in your mind, yet he is there before you, dripping with seawater, his form half in the waves, half on the shore. His dusky purple hair clings to his forehead, eyes the color of shifting sunsets—blue fading into pink, hypnotic and unreal. His pale blue tail glistens under the moonlight, every shimmering scale catching the silver glow, moving with a grace that seems almost too smooth.

Are you hallucinating? You struggle to grasp at the fact what you're seeing is true. Mermaids were the stuff of stories, tales sailors told after too much drink, legends spun to explain away the strange sea. But now, here he is. A merman. He saved you.

You feel the weight of that thought settle in your chest—he saved you. Pulled you from the dark, icy depths. His hands had been firm around your waist, his strength undeniable as he swam you to safety, your body limp and helpless in his grip. The memory of it sends a shiver through you, a mixture of fear and awe. And now he is watching you with those strange, unreadable eyes. Your heart beats faster, not out of fear but something deeper—curiosity, wonder, gratitude. You don’t know how to feel.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice hoarse and trembling.

He doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering as if trying to understand your words. He’s silent, but there’s something in his eyes—something that isn’t cold, something that isn’t indifferent. He’s saved you, and yet, you can see the hesitation and caution. His lips part, as if he wants to say something, but no words come. He seems frustrated, as though language is a barrier neither of you can cross.

Still, there’s a connection between you—fragile but real. You stand up and take a small step toward him, your eyes meeting his. He stares at you, taking in your wet form, the way your clothes cling to your body. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—something that looks almost like curiosity. But then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone.

As he slips back into the water, his eyes linger on you one last time, and without a word, he disappears beneath the surface. You realize then, with a strange certainty, that you’ll see him again. He may not have meant for you to be drawn into his world, but now, neither of you can escape it. You’ve crossed a threshold, and there’s no going back.

Tomorrow, you’ll return. You both will.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

You arrive at the cove just as the sun begins to set, the sky turning into shades of amber and rose. What happened last night feels surreal. But the ache in your muscles tells you it was very much real. In your hand, you clutch a small gold bracelet. It’s a token, a simple gesture, but it feels like the least you can offer him for saving your life. You hope he’ll accept it.

You sit by the shore, the same place where he left you, eyes scanning the horizon. You don’t know how long you’ll wait, but something tells you he’ll come. And you don’t wait long.

The water stirs, a ripple moving across the surface. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him. He emerges from the depths with that same graceful ease, his scales glistening in the fading sunset. His eyes find yours, and for a moment, neither of you speak. You simply stare, caught in the same strange tension from the night before. He stays just out of reach, half-submerged in the shallow waters of the cove, watching you.

You shift towards him slowly, trying not to startle him this time. You hold up the bracelet. “For you.” your voice hesitant. You know he doesn’t understand the words, but maybe he’ll understand the gesture.

His gaze flickers to the bracelet, and slowly, cautiously, he moves closer. He raises one hand from the sea, fingers delicate, reaching toward the gift. His gaze never leaves yours as his fingers brush against the gold. You clasp it around his wrist gently, and a breath you’ve been holding leaves your lips. He stares at it for a moment, watching the way it catches the light. Then, he looks at you, his expression unreadable, but his guard... lowered. He doesn’t speak, but there’s a softness in his gaze now.

You smile, gesturing to yourself. “I’m...” You say your name slow and clear, hoping he’ll understand. You point again, repeating, “My name is...”

He watches you, brow furrowing in concentration. He lifts a hand, mimicking your gesture, pointing to himself. “Rafayel,” he says, and your heart skips a beat at the sound of his silky voice.

A smile tugs at your lips. You repeat his name, savoring the sound of it. It’s a small step, but it feels like a bridge between your worlds.

For the next few minutes, you try to teach him more. Simple words. “Water.” You gesture to the sea. “Sky.” You point to the sky. Each time, he watches you closely, though his lips struggle to form the words. He repeats after you, hesitant at first, but with growing confidence. It’s slow, but it’s something. You laugh softly when he stumbles over a word, and his lips twitch, just the slightest hint of amusement in return.

The moon starts to rise. You sit by the shore while Rafayel rests in the shallow water, his body half-submerged. The quiet between you feels comfortable now, no longer heavy with uncertainty. He watches you with a mix of curiosity and caution, his guard still there, but not as rigid.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

You bring a book the next night, an old fairytale, the kind with simple words and enchanting stories. He’s there again and you sit together by the water, turning the pages. You point at the pictures, saying the words slowly, and he listens, repeating the ones he can manage. Each night, you bring another, reading to him in the soft glow of the moon. His words are broken, but he tries. He watches your lips when you speak, mimicking the movements, and each night, you get a little closer to understanding each other.

And as the days pass, something else shifts between you. His wariness fades, replaced by a playful curiosity. He teases you with small splashes of water, grinning at your surprised reactions. His hands linger when he helps you stand up, his touch growing bolder, more confident. You catch him staring sometimes, his eyes roaming your face, your body, with an intensity that sends warmth rushing through you.

You talk more now, not just with words but with gestures, shared looks, and smiles. He asks questions, his voice thick with the unfamiliar human language, but eager to learn. You tell him about your world, your life, and he listens, even if he doesn’t understand it all. And when he speaks of his world, you try to piece together the meaning from the few words he knows, from the way his hands move as if painting a picture.

And each night, as you leave the cove, there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to go. There’s a part of him, too, that lingers in the water, watching you with a look that makes you think he feels the same.

The gold bracelet still gleams on his wrist, a reminder of the night he saved your life.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

Rafayel has always been wary of humans, but with you, he finds himself wanting to know more. There’s a softness in your eyes that eases him, a vulnerability that makes him open up, bit by bit. Each time you smile at him, something stirs in his chest, he can’t quite explain it. It’s different from anything he’s ever known. You’re not like the humans he’s been taught to avoid; there’s no malice, no threat in your presence.

Your beauty, though undeniable, isn’t what captivates him the most. It’s the way you see him. He is not a creature from the deep, something to be feared, but something - someone you want to know. And it confuses him—this growing need to be closer to you, to understand you, to touch you. He’s never felt this way before, and it scares him. But he can’t stay away. The more time he spends with you, the more he begins to desire your presence, the way you make him feel more alive.

The comfort of the cove has become a sanctuary for Rafayel and you. But tonight, something lingers in the air. You’ve been thinking about that first night—about the song that led you to the edge of the cliff. You turn to him, your voice soft but curious “That night, the song... were you the one singing it?”

Rafayel’s gaze hardens at the question, his eyes showing a mix of emotions. He doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you worry that you’ve overstepped. But then, his head dips, as if looking for the right words. He takes a breath, his voice low. “Song... not for you.” His eyes meet yours, and there’s something darker there now, something painful. “For sailors, bad men. Hurt... my kind.”

You feel the weight of his words. You’ve heard stories of sailors plundering the depths, but seeing the pain in Rafayel’s eyes—it feels real now. His hand reaches for yours. He explains, his voice thick with emotions he struggles to contain. “Revenge, for my kind. They come, take… kill. They don’t care. ”His fingers tighten slightly around yours, as if bracing himself for what he’s about to say next. “I... stop them. I sing, they follow.”

You realize then what his song was meant to do. It was a lure for the sailors, to drag them beneath the waves. The weight of that presses down on you, and yet, there’s no fear. Only sadness for the pain he’s carried. You swallow, trying to find the right words. “But... I wasn’t meant to hear it.”

He shakes his head, his grip on your hand softening, his voice quieter now. “No. You... not like them. You hear, but...” His brow furrows. “I... not want to hurt you.” The vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard. This creature, so powerful and full of vengeance, pulled you from the depths when he could have just let you drown.

You look at him. “I’m sorry.” you say softly, though you know it’s not enough. “I’m sorry for what they did to you. I didn’t know.”

His eyes soften, the darkness in them fading as he looks at you. “You... don’t need to know,” he murmurs. “You are... different.”

You squeeze his hand gently, offering what comfort you can. “I’m glad you didn’t let me drown.” you say, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Rafayel smiles back and you see a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. “Me too.” he says quietly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

The nights spent by the cove have become a routine. You sit with a fairytale book in your lap, your fingers tracing over the worn pages as you read aloud. Rafayel lies on his stomach, his body still, but his gaze is not. He watches you, ombre eyes tracing every movement of your lips, every flutter of lashes as you speak. You glance up from the book, catching the intensity of his stare. A playful smile tugs at your lips, and you pause mid-sentence. "What are you looking at?" you tease.

Rafayel’s brows furrow in concentration. He still struggles to find the words, but he gestures to his own face, then to yours. "You... beautiful."

The words catch you off guard, a blush peppering your cheeks. You are taken aback by his honesty. He says it so simply, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Your heart skips a beat, but you brush it off with a soft laugh. “Thank you.”

He tilts his head with confusion in his eyes, as though he doesn’t understand why you would laugh. You shake your head, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm, feeling his cool skin. His body reacts instantly to your touch, a shiver running through him, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand comes to rest over yours.

Each evening, the distance between slowly fades. Touches become more frequent, more intentional. A hand resting on his arm, fingers tracing his jaw, the way his tail brushes lightly against your leg as he moves closer.

One night, Rafayel’s curiosity takes a new turn. You’re sitting on the sand, the fabric of your flowy dress bunched up around your legs. His gaze lingers on the material that shifts with the breeze. He tilts his head, lips in a small pout. Then he reaches out, pointing at your legs, gesturing to the flowing fabric. “Why... clothes?” he asks.

You laugh softly. “Humans wear different clothing depending on the weather, or their style. And we wear shoes to protect our feet.”

At the mention of shoes, his eyes drop to your bare feet. He looks back at you, his lips parting as if to ask something, but hesitates.

"Do you want to touch them?" you ask.

His face lights up with a mix of curiosity and caution. He nods. You stretch your leg out toward him, offering your foot, and he reaches for it, his fingers brushing lightly over the arch. You smile, watching his face as he studies your foot with such focus that makes you chuckle. But then, his fingers accidentally graze a ticklish spot making you pull away from his grasp and laugh as a reflex.

He jerks his hand back, eyes wide with concern, but you shake your head quickly, still laughing. “It’s okay! You just tickled me.”

His expression softens into a playful one, and he does it again, deliberately this time. He watches as your body reacts, your foot flinching away from his mischievous hands, your laughter bubbling up again. You can see the spark in his eyes, the way his lips curl into that rare smile you’re starting to see more often.

Now your eyes trace pale blue tail that glimmers in the water. You can’t stop yourself from staring. You’ve wanted to touch it from the very first moment you saw him.

You take a deep breath. “Can I... touch your tail? It’s okay if you don’t wa - .”

He chuckles at your stammering and nods, easing your anxiety. He takes your hand in his, and lowers it onto his tail, around where knees would be. Your lips part in awe, feeling the cool, sleek texture of his scales beneath your fingertips. It’s smooth, almost silky.

You look up at him. “Your tail... it’s incredible.”

Rafayel’s lips twitch into a small smile, pleased by your fascination. He shifts his body, fully focusing on your legs again. His eyes travel up, towards the space between your thighs. He glances at your face, then back, as though trying to make sense of something. Slowly, he leans in, his head tilting as he peers under the hem of your dress, his curiosity as innocent as it is bold.

A flush of heat rises to your cheeks, scooting back and pressing your thighs together. "Uh, Rafayel..." you murmur, your voice catching.

He looks up at you, confused. You can tell he doesn’t fully understand what he’s done to make you flustered, but he’s aware of the shift in your energy. “What... there?” he asks, his voice uncertain, his hand motioning toward your dress.

You bite your lip, the blush deepening. There’s no hidden intent in his question—just pure curiosity, the same way he’d ask about the books or the language you’re teaching him. You take a shaky breath. “It’s... private,” you say, choosing your words carefully. “Humans have parts that are personal, and we usually keep them covered, especially around others.”

He nods slowly. His eyes go to your dress for just a moment before they return to yours. “Private,” he repeats, the word unfamiliar on his tongue, but he seems to grasp the meaning of it. You can see the restraint in him now, the way he pulls back slightly, giving you space.

In the quiet that follows, you smile at him, reaching out to touch his face lightly, your fingers brushing over his soft skin. “You’re learning quickly,” you say softly, and he leans into your touch, his eyes closing for just a moment. But now you have a question. Your heart races as you summon the courage to speak. "Rafayel..." you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Where... where are your private parts?"

The words hang awkwardly between you, and you immediately regret it. Your body tenses as you brace for his reaction. Instead of laughing or brushing off the question, Rafayel’s expression softens with understanding. He lies on his back, glancing down at his sleek, muscled form. There’s a pause as he considers how to respond, his lips curving in a soft smile.

"They're hidden," he says quietly, pointing to the area right below his pelvis. "Beneath, for… when we need them."

You find yourself staring at the spot where he’s pointing. You bite your lip, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze is already on you, soft and unassuming, as if waiting for you to speak.

"So… how does it work?" you ask hesitantly.

Rafayel tilts his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he processes your words. "Work?" he repeats. He looks down at his tail, then back up at you. "You… want to know?"

The heat rises to your cheeks, and you glance away, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "I—I guess, yeah," you stammer. "I mean, you asked me, and I…" You trail off, embarrassed.

Rafayel’s lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, and his eyes soften at the sight of your flushed cheeks. Slowly, he speaks again. "I can… show?"

Your breath catches in your throat. The idea of him revealing that intimate part of himself makes your heart race. But before you can respond, Rafayel adds "If… I see yours too?"

Your hands tighten on the fabric of your dress, your mind racing. There's an openness in the way he asks, a genuine desire to understand you better. "You want to see mine?" you ask, your voice trembling just a little. Rafayel nods, his eyes flicking downward for just a second before meeting yours again. “Yes. You… show me. I… show you."

The tension hangs heavy between you, and for a moment, you both just sit there. You consider his words and finally, you nod. "Okay."

Rafayel hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours for permission one more time. With a slow nod from you, he shifts, moving just enough to give you a better view. The area he pointed at begins to part slightly, the scales pulling aside to show what is hidden. Your eyes widen as you catch the first glimpse of what lies underneath. The sight is mesmerizing, a beautiful hybrid of human and something entirely otherworldly. His member, long and thick, tapers slightly toward the tip. The texture is smooth with faint ridges along its surface. Your breath hitches as you notice how his arousal throbs gently, merging seamlessly with his aquatic form.

Rafayel watches you, how fascinated you are by this part of him. His lips quirk into a teasing smile, but a faint blush colors his cheeks. He’s aware of the tension of this moment, but there’s a playful, mischievous glint in his eyes as he tilts his head.

"You… stare long time," he teases, "You… like?"

Your breath catches as you meet Rafayel’s gaze, embarrassed for staring for so long. "Maybe," you admit with a shy smile.

Rafayel’s smile widens, his blush deepening. He glances down at himself, starting to feel bashful under your gaze, before his eyes return to yours. He shifts slightly, his hand moving to caress your cheek. His eyes move downward, toward the thin piece of clothing, then back to your face. You know it’s your turn.

The realization makes your palms clammy. Rafayel’s gaze never leaves yours, patient but full of expectation. And you want to match his vulnerability, to let him see you in the same way you’ve seen him. With a trembling hand, you reach under your dress, tugging down the bottom part of your swimsuit, his eyes following your every movement. Discarding the piece of clothing to the side, you lean back on your hands, spreading your legs.

Rafayel’s eyes widen as he stares at your exposed form, lingering on the soft skin between your thighs, on the slickness already gathering there. He looks mesmerized, his gaze flicking between your face and your body, as if he can’t decide where to focus.

"Can… I touch?" he asks, his fingers twitching with anticipation.

You nod, your heart racing. Slowly, his fingers brush against your inner thigh, cool and soft at first. His fingertips graze your entrance, and you let out a small gasp as a jolt of pleasure courses through you.

He pauses, glancing up at you with concern. “Hurt?”

You shake your head quickly, breathless. "No, no… that feels good," you assure him, your voice a little shaky. "But… if you keep touching me like that, I’ll get more… aroused." The honest answer makes your face flush even more.

Rafayel seems both intrigued and flustered by your response. Rafayel watches you closely, his fingers still resting gently against your slick entrance. He looks down, his breath catching as he feels the wetness coating his fingers. You can see his chest rising and falling as if he's trying to keep control of himself.

He glances back up at you. "Can I… touch more?"

The question takes you by surprise. This isn’t just curiosity or playful exploration anymore—this is crossing into something more intimate. You look at him, your breath catching in your throat. There’s a need that’s been growing inside him for so long—one he’s kept carefully in check, unsure if he could ask, unsure if this moment would ever come.

You feel a rush of warmth flood through you at the realization, and with a soft, shaky breath, you nod, guiding his hand a little higher. "Touch me… here," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you place his fingers on the sensitive nub just above your entrance. "This is… very sensitive. If you touch it the right way, it’ll feel incredible."

Rafayel’s breath hitches as his fingers move under your guidance. His touch is light at first, but as he watches your reaction—how your body tenses with pleasure—he grows bolder, circling the sensitive spot with slow, deliberate movements.

The sensations are overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you with every stroke of his fingers. Your hips instinctively move, seeking more of his touch, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips. Rafayel’s eyes are locked on you now, his breath coming faster, his arousal clear in the way his body tenses.

"Yes," you gasp, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress as you struggle to hold back the rising tide of pleasure. "Just like that…"

Your body is trembling now, shaky gasps leaving your lips, each stroke pulling you closer to the edge. He watches you intently, eyes wide with fascination. He’s studying every reaction, every sound you make. Your fingers dig into the sand, gripping tightly as the pressure builds inside you, a tight coil ready to snap. His touch is gentle but insistent, the perfect rhythm against your most sensitive spot, and it doesn’t take long before you feel that wave approaching. Your hips buck against his hand, and the pleasure becomes too much, too overwhelming to resist.

“Rafayel -” you moan, your voice shaky. Everything seems to blur as the intense pleasure crashes over you in waves, your thighs trembling, your back arching helplessly as you come. Rafayel watches in awe, mesmerized by the way your body reacts to his touch, his hand still gently moving over your clit, prolonging your release as you ride out every last wave of pleasure. Your chest heaves, breathless, the sensation so intense you can barely focus, your body still twitching from the aftershocks. But as the pleasure subsides, his curiosity hasn’t. His fingers, still slick from your release, hover near your entrance, and he glances up at you. His fingers brush against your wetness, lingering just on the edge.

“What… if I…” he trails off.

You’re still catching your breath, your body sensitive, but you manage a nod, giving him permission. He moves slowly, his fingers slipping inside you, cautiously exploring. His finger slides into you easily, your entrance wet from your orgasm, and you let out a soft gasp as he pushes deeper. When he adds a second finger, stretching you just a little more, a shiver runs down your spine, the fullness making you moan softly. His eyes flick up to yours again, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all he finds is more of that same pleasure, your hips gently rocking against his hand, guiding him.

And then, as he curls his fingers inside you, searching, he finds it—the spongy spot deep within that makes your body jolt with pleasure. You react immediately, a gasp escaping your lips as he presses against it.

“There,” you gasp, your voice breathless and needy. “Right there…”

Rafayel’s eyes light up, his fingers moving with more confidence now, curling and stroking that sensitive spot inside you. The pleasure is overwhelming, a different kind of ecstasy that makes you arch into his touch, your walls tightening around his fingers. Each movement makes your moans grow louder, more desperate.

Without warning, he leans down, his mouth hovering just above your clit. Then he presses his lips to the sensitive nub. The shock of his warm mouth against you makes you cry out, your hips jerking against him as the pleasure intensifies tenfold. His tongue flicks out, tasting you, and when he hears your moan, he repeats the motion. Your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, guiding him as his tongue moves over your clit, licking and sucking in perfect rhythm with the motion of his fingers inside you. The combination is almost too much, the sensations making you dizzy, your body on the verge of losing control.

Rafayel seems affected by your reactions, his own breathing heavy now, his face flushed. He’s learning fast, his fingers curling just right inside you, hitting that sensitive spot over and over, while his mouth works your clit with growing skill. Your hips move desperately against him, seeking more of the pleasure he’s giving you, unable to stop yourself.

And then, you feel it—the tight coil inside you, about to snap again, but this time it’s different. The pleasure so intense it’s almost unbearable. You can feel your muscles clenching around his fingers, wet sounds filling the air as your body responds to him.

“I can’t… I’m going to…” you gasp, but before you can finish, your orgasm crashes over you, more powerful than anything you’ve ever felt before, your body convulsing, your hips bucking wildly against his hand and mouth. A sudden gush of wetness escapes you, your release splashing against his fingers, your muscles spasm with the force of it.

Rafayel freezes for a moment, startled by the intensity of your release, but he doesn’t pull away. His fingers stay inside you, his mouth still working your clit as you ride out the most intense orgasm of your life.

As your release finally subsides, you collapse back against the sand, panting and spent, your body still tingling. Rafayel pulls back, his fingers slipping from your entrance, wet with your release. He looks up at you, awe and a hint of pride in his eyes, as if he can hardly believe what he’s just made you feel.

When you catch the sight of Rafayel’s face, glistening with the remnants of your release, a shy smile tugs at your lips. You reach out, brushing your thumb gently across his cheek, wiping away the wetness. Both of you share a soft, breathy chuckle. Rafayel, his gaze lingering on your lips, leans down slowly. His breath fans across your skin, and then, with a soft press, his lips meet yours. It’s gentle at first, but the moment your lips connect, something shifts. The kiss deepens, grows more urgent, as though all the pent-up desire comes to the surface.

Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him. His lips move against yours, his tongue teasing yours, and you feel the weight of his body pressing against you. His tail shifts in the sand, positioning himself between your legs, his hardened member brushing against your thigh. The contact makes you moan into the kiss, and you both know where this is headed. It feels natural, like this is where you were always meant to end up, like the bond between you has been building toward this moment. Rafayel’s gaze locks onto yours, checking for any sign of hesitation. But all you offer him is a small nod, your body aching to feel him inside you.

He begins to push forward, slow and careful, the head of his throbbing member pressing against your wetness. You can feel the stretch as he starts to ease into you, your body accommodating his size. The sensation is intense, your walls fluttering around him as he gradually sinks deeper. His eyes never leave yours, his brow furrowed in concentration, his mouth slightly parted.

“You… okay?” he asks softly, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

“Yes,” you gasp, your body trembling. “Don’t stop.”

Encouraged, Rafayel moves deeper. Rolling his hips, each thrust pushes him further, until he’s fully within you, his body pressed flush against yours. He stills for a moment, savoring the warmth of your body wrapped around him. His hand moves down to where your bodies are joined, his thumb finding your clit, pressing against it in slow circles. You moan, your hips instinctively bucking against his, the stimulation pushing you closer and closer to the edge again.

Every thrust brings him deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you, and you can’t hold back any longer. Your orgasm crashes over you, more powerful than the last. Your walls clench tightly around him, drawing him deeper, and you cry out his name. Your entire body shudders with the force of your release. The feeling of you pulsing around him pushes Rafayel over the edge. His thrusts become erratic, his breath ragged. With a deep groan, he buries himself inside you, his body shaking as his own orgasm overtakes him.

As the last hints of pleasure fade from your bodies, the night air settles around you, cool and soothing against your flushed skin. Rafayel’s body remains pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your own as he holds you close. Your legs are still tangled with his tail, the beautiful texture of his scales brushing against your thighs, grounding you in this moment.

Rafayel presses a tender kiss to your temple. His lips trail down to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, and you turn your head, meeting him in a soft, languid kiss. Neither of you speaks for a long moment, simply resting in the aftermath. Rafayel shifts slightly, easing out of you carefully, and you can’t help but shiver at the loss of connection. He watches your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you offer him is a lazy smile.

A faint blush lingers on his cheeks, and his lips curve into a small, sheepish smile. "You not hurt?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "No," you reply, your voice gentle. "Not at all. That was… wonderful."

He exhales in relief and chuckles softly. "Good."

You move to rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer, as if he can’t bear to let go just yet.

Then, after a few moments, you both start to chuckle, the sound light and easy. "I… didn’t think this would happen," you admit with a smile. "Not like this. Not tonight."

Rafayel hums in agreement. "You… so different. So... human," he adds with a playful smirk, but his tone softens. "And yet…"

You smile, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze, finishing for him. "And yet, it feels right." Rafayel’s lips curve into a slow, gentle smile, and he leans down, his breath warm against your skin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "Yes," he whispers. "It… feels right."

For a long time, you simply lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, your bodies warm and comfortable against the cool night air. Rafayel’s fingers continue to caress your skin, his touch tender and slow.

"Stay close," he whispers after a while, his voice barely audible, as if he’s speaking to himself, as if the thought of distance—any distance—is unbearable. His arms tighten around you, his embrace full of warmth and need.

You smile against his chest, nuzzling closer. "I’m not going anywhere," you murmur back. And you mean it. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel smut #lads smut #lads x reader #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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satori-runa · 3 months ago

Text

—The red means I love you.

Summary: Mr Scarletella doesn't like to wait anymore and makes his move.

Tags: Mentions of blood, yandere behaviour, obsession, slight stalking, fluff, slightly ooc

Words: 1,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Blood dripped from your fingers, soaked into your clothes, and splattered across the floor in your wake. It didn’t matter if it was yours or someone else’s anymore. All that mattered was surviving in this weird place.

You paused to catch your breath, the cold air burning your lungs as another wave of dizziness hit you. Somewhere in the distance, you heard it—the soft, shuffling footsteps that never seemed far behind. He was still following you. He had been for a while now, his presence a constant shadow.

Mr. Scarletella.

He rarely spoke, but you could feel his pitch black eyes on you, his gaze almost tangible as it traced the lines of blood staining your clothes. The quiet creaking of leather shoes echoed through the hallway, growing louder. You turned, the crowbar raised defensively, and there he was—standing just a few feet away, partially hidden by the dim lighting.

He was a spectacle in crimson, the vibrant red of his suit blending almost seamlessly with the blood that covered the ground and the red light on the walls. His head was tilted slightly, a mess of scarlet hair falling over one eye as he stared at you. His smile was small, twitching at the corners, as if he were struggling to hold it back. And then there was this scarlet umbrella he was holding…

"You," he mumbled in his own language, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a small step closer, the leather of his shoes slick against the wet floor. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out in a way that made him look unhinged. He raised one gloved hand, fingers twitching, as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was restraining himself.

You took a step back, crowbar still raised. "Stay back," you ordered, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. You weren’t even sure if he could follow your demands.

His head tilted further, almost like a curious dog. "Like," he muttered, the word shaky and filled with awe. His gaze fixated on the blood staining your shirt. "Like... you."

It was a childlike declaration, simple and obsessive, as if he couldn’t fully articulate the depth of his emotions in the language he spoke. He took another step forward, and this time, you noticed the way his hands shook, almost vibrating with excitement.

He pointed to the blood on your clothes, then back to himself, his smile widening. "Like... same," he murmured. He gestured between the two of you, as if connecting invisible threads. The blood. It was all the same to him. You were the same. You were his. You did this for him. You were like that for him.

You swallowed hard, backing away. "You need to stop following me," you said, but even you could hear how empty the words sounded. He wouldn’t stop. You knew that. You could see it in his eyes—the absolute devotion, the unblinking adoration.

His smile faltered for a second, his brows knitting together in confusion, almost like he didn’t understand why you were upset. "You," he stammered, taking another step. He was so close now, you could smell the coppery tang of blood that clung to him like perfume. "With... me."

He reached out slowly, fingers splayed wide, as if he were afraid you might shatter if he touched you. The moment his hand brushed against your cheek, it was cold and wet with blood. “Me like you.” He sighed, the sound almost blissful, like he’d been waiting his whole life just to be this close. “You like me?”

You flinched away, slashing out with your crowbar, but he was faster. His appearance glitched and before you knew it, he teleported. He caught your wrist in a tight, almost bruising grip, his expression twisting into something unreadable. His smile had disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed, manic look that sent a shiver down your spine.

"No," he muttered, his voice barely audible, like he was scolding a child. He pulled you closer, his grip unrelenting. "Mine. Like you. Same."

It was almost pathetic, the way he whispered it, like he was pleading with you to understand. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. The blood from his gloves smeared across your skin as he cupped your face, his touch almost reverent.

"Stay," he breathed, the word cracking at the edges. "With... me."

For a moment, you thought you saw tears welling up in his eyes, but then he blinked, and they were gone, replaced by that disturbing, gleeful smile. He didn’t need your answer; he’d already decided it for you.

You tried to pull away, but he only held you tighter, his fingers digging into your skin. His smile stretched wider, as if he were thrilled by the struggle.

"Like... you," he whispered again, almost lovingly, his voice broken and raw. "Together."

You realized then that there was no escape. Not from him. Not from the Otherworld. And as his laughter echoed down the hall, low and guttural, you knew he’d already decided your fate long before you’d even realized he was watching.

“Me grateful for you. Me like you. Me want you.”

You kept your crowbar close, tucked against your side, but you knew it was useless. You’d tried to fight him before, slashing at his chest, hitting at his arm, but it never seemed to faze him. If anything, it only made him more excited, more desperate to keep you close. His suit was stained with both your blood and someone elses, merging into a deep red that matched the look of obsession in his eyes.

His pace slowed as he pulled you into an empty room, the door creaking shut behind you. The walls were stained with splatters of old blood, the floor sticky beneath your shoes. He stopped, turning to face you fully, his hands coming up to frame your face as he dropped the umbrella for a moment. You could feel the wetness of his stained fingers against your cheeks, the metallic smell of blood overwhelming your senses.

You tried to pull away, but he only leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing yours. "Pretty," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... pretty. Blood." His thumb traced a line down your cheek, smearing blood across your skin. He seemed mesmerized by the sight, as if he couldn’t look away.

"Mr. Scarletella, please," you managed, your voice trembling. "Let me go."

He frowned, the expression so out of place on his usually smiling face. His grip tightened slightly, almost as if he were afraid you’d vanish if he loosened his hold. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No... like you."

He brought your face even closer, his breath warm against your lips. You could see every detail of his face now—the tiny splatters of blood on his skin, the way his pupils were blown wide with an intensity that bordered on madness. He wasn’t blinking, wasn’t even moving, just staring at you like you were the only thing that existed in his world.

You tried to turn your head, but his fingers dug into your jaw, forcing you to face him. It was almost gentle, the way he held you, but there was an undercurrent of possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. He tilted his head, his smile returning, small and soft, as if he were looking at something precious.

You’d been trying so hard to avoid his gaze that you didn’t notice how close he’d leaned in until it was too late. You moved suddenly, trying to wrench yourself out of his grip, but the motion was too quick, too abrupt. Your lips collided with his, and you froze.

It was just a brief, accidental kiss—barely a brush of lips—but it felt like time stopped. His entire body went still, his eyes widening in shock. For a second, you thought he might pull away, let you go, but then his hands tightened around your face, fingers trembling.

"Y-You," he breathed out, his voice cracking with something raw and vulnerable. "Kiss... you kissed."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest. "It was an accident," you insisted, your voice hoarse. "I didn’t mean to—"

But he wasn’t listening. He was staring at you, his expression one of pure, unfiltered adoration. His lips parted slightly, his breath shaky, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. He let out a soft, broken laugh, the sound almost joyous, as if he’d just received the greatest gift in the world.

"Like me," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was so quiet, so full of desperate hope. "You... like me."

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. He leaned in again, his lips hovering over yours, his breath mingling with yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really. It was like he was waiting for permission, waiting for you to do something, anything, to confirm that this wasn’t just in his head.

You could feel his heartbeat racing against your own, the warmth of his body despite the cold, damp blood soaking his clothes. You knew then that he wouldn’t let you go—not now, not ever. In his mind, that accidental kiss had sealed your fate. You were his now, just as he was yours.

And as he pulled you into a tight embrace, humming softly under his breath, you realized you had no choice but to let him hold you, his face buried against your neck, whispering broken, loving words that would haunt you forever.

The minute he let go of you, you took the umbrella he dropped into your hand, glancing at the scarlet color before Mr.Scarletellas hand touched yours. A promise to keep you by his side.

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #mr. scarletella #mr.scarletella x reader #homicipher #mr scarletella #mr scarletella x reader #mr scarletella fluff #mr scarletella yandere #homicipher x reader #homicipher fluff #homicipher mr scarletella

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markerofthemidnight · 9 months ago

Note

I love your Hatchetfield fics Grayscale and Hidden Depths. Can you tell me a tidbit about both/ether of them?

AHHHHHHH I’d be happy to oblige!!!

As much as I’d like to talk about both at the moment… I hate to admit this, but I’ve really been ignoring the existence of Hidden Depths as of recent. And Greyscale, but Hidden Depths deserves attention too! So, since Chapter 6 has been held back for so long, why not share some more about the Old Lords?

HD: ULTIMATE Recap was, after all, only a very small tidbit of extra info on them. I’m also working on a piece that’ll show you all their designs- except Kindler’s, since we’ve already seen his, but I’m not even halfway through that yet. Starting to get pretty concerned with how little I’ve been doing stuff as of recent…

Well, anyways! Here’s some extra information on the Old Lords and my thought process behind making them.

Kynzol Errakt (aka Kindler)

The God of the Sun and Flames, as you know. Previously known as the God of Drought in Chapter 1, but I felt like it was pretty odd to have a god whose powers can only be defined by what they aren’t associated with.

Obviously very draconic in design, but the dragon actually isn’t his associated animal. That would go to the thorny devil: everybody’s favourite spiky little reptile that I felt best summed up what exactly I was trying to go for with Kindler, and that was before I learned that they can apparently drink water by absorbing it through their feet!

Known as the Everburning Star, Kindler is the de facto leader of the Old Lords. He carries himself with a sophisticated yet very intentionally intimidating disposition, and tends to not really think about the wellbeing of others unless it affects his.

It’s fairly obvious from his behaviour that he has a pretty big god complex (ironic, huh?), and is incredibly stubborn in his beliefs. Not even the Old Lords would ever dare speak out against him: the only reason why they’re so comfortable with his presence is because they’ve spent 5,000 years with him.

You may be wondering why I chose this specific personality when it’s not very different from Wiggly’s. Well… that’s because Kindler was pretty much just based on my perception of what Wiggly’s predecessor probably would’ve acted like, which slowly developed into the dragon we know today.

The main difference between them, I’d say, is that Wiggly is only partly scary (hence why so many people are in love with him), whereas Kindler is actually genuinely scary and villainous. It’s like the difference between any normal Disney villain and Emperor Belos from The Owl House.

Trypnarash (aka Thrasher)

The God of Noise, associated with a bat for fairly obvious reasons. Rather fittingly, also as blind as a bat. For some reason he switches between having an Australian or a Cockney accent depending on whichever one I think would be better suited to what he’s saying.

Known as the Beastly Cacophony, Thrasher is… loud. Very loud. Strangely enough, he’s actually surprisingly chill: he’s pretty much fine with anything as long as it’s entertaining.

However, it’s important to keep in mind that this still doesn’t make him a good person. He’s evil just like the rest of them, only in his own ways. (Not Evil from The Lego Movie 2 is a song that I associate with him quite a lot, by the way.)

Inspiring false hope so that the others can crush it, and toying with people in more personal ways, is his MO. He pretty much does whatever’s most entertaining to him at the moment: the only reason why he’s alright with Blinky not being evil is because in a few months, he’s gonna be dead for good. No point in caring about that.

Gazon Q’raktic (aka Gazer)

The Goddess of Space, associated with jellyfish since it was the first animal I thought of that felt alien enough to be associated with space. Also known as the Scholar of the Stars.

My basic concept behind her and her personality was “what if the ancient deity was a girlboss.” A stark contrast to the slowly rotting incel with ADHD that we call Tinky. Some would call her arrogant, though it’s important to keep in mind that arrogance implies misplaced confidence.

And hers is definitely not misplaced.

She is smarter than you. Much, much smarter. Gazer has peered into the distant voids of space, and understands the universe in a way no one else can. She knows how the Big Bang happened, she knows about the existence of extraterrestrial life, and the answers to many more unanswered questions about the universe. How does she know? Simple: she figured it out. HERSELF.

She has an IQ of at least 2,000. And she is cursed with knowledge no one else can ever bear: because no one, not even any of her fellow Old Lords, is intelligent enough to understand it.

Kindler is arrogant to the point of being delusional. Gazer is… probably the only one out of those five who actually has her head on straight.

Honestly, she’s also probably the closest to being a good person, as well? Whenever she plays with mortals, it’s usually some kind of simple challenge with fair enough rules, which only gets violent if those rules are broken.

Retonydunfir (aka Rattler)

The God of Decay, associated with vultures. The name Rattler comes from the bones all over his body. Known as the Harbinger of Decay.

Rattler is… you know how I just said Gazer’s probably the only sane one there? He’s close to being sane. Not quite there yet, though.

His base personality is best described as the archetypical cranky grandfather who says the most appalling and racist things as if he’s just talking about the weather. Except Rattler is more intimidating than that.

He works slightly differently to the other Lords in that his powers are fueled. When something somewhere in the universe dies or decays- no matter how great or small- he gains power.

He is obsessed with what he calls the “art” of decay. Partly because it fuels his powers, but mainly because he’s just, for lack of a better term, a nightmare fetishist.

This stretches not only to physical decay, but mental decay as well. Unlike Nibbly, he’s very patient, and prefers to make people suffer through slow torment that steadily gets worse as it continues, rather than just… eating them.

Definitely not someone you want to have on your bad side… or your good side, as he’s known to subject some of his own followers to similar things once they die. What they endured his room (and, to this day, continue to endure in Nibbly’s room) can only be described as a really big, really long retelling of I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.

Stinturmor (aka Stinger)

The Goddess of War and Discord, and probably my favourite out of the old Lords in Black? Her associated animal is an ant, because ants go to war with each other all the time. She’s known as the Gyne General (a gyne being the primary reproductive female in a system of insects, i.e. an ant queen).

She has two forms in total. The first and more commonly seen one is a small cartoony blue ant. The second… I can’t talk about what the second one looks like.

She’s also the first of the Old Lords to have her room fully designed. It’s a medieval castle on a hill (🎶 AS THE STORY GOES 🎶), mainly either royal blue or baby blue in colour.

She likes ponies, drinking tea with honey, and drawing her favourite mortals all being horrifically tortured whilst laying on her little princess bed with her feet kicking in the air like a toddler.

…Yeah.

So the main inspiration for Stinger, as well as my headcanon voice for her, was The Ghost of Christmas Present from Scrooged. If you’ve watched that, I’m sure you’ll know exactly what Stinger’s going to be like in the story, specifically when talking to Pokey.

The reason why that specifically is her personality is because, if Pokey represents peace and harmony, she represents war and discord. Dissonance, conflict, contrasting elements between characters.

So naturally, my only option with her was to play up the general vibe of the canon LiB, giving her two sides: the first being this cutesy little whimsical creature who talks like she’s from Oz, and the second being a horrible nightmare that’ll torture you for days on end, kill you as soon as she gets bored, and then resurrect you as soon as she gets bored of all her other favourite playthings.

She also has the ability to summon any weapon at will. And I do mean any weapon, even ones that she shouldn’t feasibly be able to wield. She prefers ones from the Dark Ages or beforehand, but unfortunately for you, our dearest Stinger doesn’t exactly believe in consistency.

For this very reason, I am very much looking forward to writing a scene in Hidden Depths where she just nonchalantly whips out a grenade launcher.

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hiddendepths-aublog · 3 months ago

Note

Wiggly, you know you can talk about Kindler with your siblings, right? But if you don't want to yet I won't hold it against you.

(Luckily for him, the message comes in after everyone else has left to do their own thing.)

(As he reads it, he lets out an empty chuckle devoid of humour.)

Siblings, hmm? I… I like that. We are our own little family in a way, I suppose…

But… no. Thank you for your concern, but- but if I tell them, that’s just another sign of weakness. Another 30 minutes of torture for me the next night.

This is a burden I have to shoulder alone. At least until he’s gone.

#hidden depths au #asks #hd!wiggly #anniversary week 2024

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a-scary-lack-of-common-sense · 7 days ago

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There has been requests about getting a full body colour for Kook!Ford, so here he is, in all his beige, white, and brown minimalist glory <3 (THERE’S A REASON WHY HE HAS SUCH A BORING PALETTE I PROMISE)

Stupid colour rambles that are WAYY too in depth and probably mostly far fetched but this is my AU and I get to pick how much over-analysis goes into the characters’ colour schemes, fuck you:

Ford:

Characterised by pale, almost pastel-ish colours to emulate a sort of sick, unhealthy look.

The paler colours add to the illusion of Ford lacking presence, almost disappearing into the background, to convey how his existence often ignored or dismissed by most of the townsfolk.

Without any visually striking or contrasting colours in his palette itself, his own features blend into one another, blurring the details and diminishing any identifiable traits that would have typically identified him as Ford, or even a person (<- if that mindfuck of a sentence make any sense)

Hints of yellow to show remnants Bill's past influence on him. Because I’m dramatic like that.

Fiddleford:

Deep, rich forest greens with golden accents (influences of Bill appearing in his outfit) (I need to hammer Fidds out a lil’ more ngl)

Stanley:

Deep, rich blues and purples (opposite spectrum of yellow, aka. Bill's colour, which means = safety to Ford)

The inside lining of his jacket is vivid red, to reference his original colours palette and as a representation of his past self being hidden underneath the layers of his predominantly blue exterior, colours representative of his new identity (also red = warm and blue = cold)

His colours palette will eventually open up into something warmer on the outside, veering into purple.

Extra notes on his character: Stan (in this AU) is colder and quieter than his canon counterpart. After years of being in the mafia business, and years of running it as well, he has long since learned to mask his facial expressions and master the poker face (*cough cough* resting bitch face *cough cough*). But, his intimidating and serious air does not serve him any favours when it comes to literally anything other than his “work”, his inexperience when it comes to emotions all the more apparent with the twins. He has trouble expressing his feelings outwardly, and despises this part of himself, because it reminds him of his own father. He feels as though he is failing the twins by being too cold and distant, and tries his best to open up more.

Mabel:

Maintains her original colours palette with pink, but has more hints of red in her outfit, similar to Stan’s, particularly around her sleeves (allusion to “wearing your heart on your sleeves.” Yes, I know that it’s tacky)

The red shows she is more inclined to trust Stan, as she is willing to see past Stanley’s exterior facade of cold aloofness to see his “true” colours (good HEAVENS that is disgustingly cheesy to say but idk how else to really word this)

Extra notes on her character: Mabel trusts Stan fully. Perhaps a little too much. She I dolises Stan to an almost unhealthy degree, and is constantly plagued with the underlying fear of somehow losing Stan’s “interest”, as their mother seemed to have lost interest in her and Dipper. Deeply fears being abandoned again, and believes she “owes” Stan for having adopted them. She believes it is her fault that neither of their parents wanted the twins during the divorce.

Dipper:

Maintains original colour palette with blues, but pretty solidly lacks red in his outfit. He serves as the opposite spectrum of Mabel, instead being unwilling to fully trust Stan and takes him at face value.

Extra notes on his character: Dipper does not trust Stan, and is far more hyperaware of what kind of “business” their “uncle” runs. He is mostly worried about Mabel’s slight obsession with pleasing him, and fears that if they don’t behave, Stan might use his dangerous power and influence against them. He is convinced that Stan had ulterior motives to adopting them, cannot fathom what he, a seeming stranger with all the power in the world, could possibly hope to gain in adopting two abandoned children. Even more so, when even their parents didn’t seem to want them.

#my art #my post #sput chatters #stanford pines #ford pines #grunkle ford #fiddleford mcgucket #stanley pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #mabel pines #dipper pines #mystery twins #colours #colour theory #I guess???#anyways- hope the OOC ness didn’t throw anyone off but like- this IS an AU so #character design #town kook ford au

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hcneymooners · 27 days ago

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⋆ you pull my hair, you call me.

jinx x mermaid!f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you are a mermaid living in a hidden grotto of the undercity. one day, jinx wanders into your territory. or more accurately, the ruins of her old haunt.

cw: mermaid!reader, canon divergence!au, discussions of trauma, discussion of child loss, mental health issues, non-sexual intimacy, sfw, however, there are suggestive themes, age gap, girl you are literally thousands of years old.

notes: in these coming days, i hold on tightly to fantasies. they become stronger, more intricate. i feel it is my only way to survive. this is dedicated to @s-4pphics, the only person who makes me feel like a real life mermaid.

The water remembers everything. It's why you were born into it. Your mind is a steel trap, a lattice of love and loss.

Water does not coddle the memory, but it soothes. When your mother crawled into the reservoir to birth you, it did not coddle her naked body as it twisted and expelled you. It did nothing to lessen the sore peaks of her nipples as her breasts swelled and hardened with milk. But it soothed.

Your birth was similar to the experience of having birds flutter out of one’s chest. You came into the world with the rush of wind and at the peak of death, eyes big and your silence even larger. You were a beautiful baby with a delicately scaled face, and from the beginning your mother knew you were different.

She holds you, tells you her name—a name that means one thousand flowers. It fits her; you understand this even one minute fresh into your life. Your mother was one thousand flowers both blooming and decaying at once.

You were born in the winter, snow touching the tender skin of your forehead. It is also winter when your mother, a woman of a thousand flowers, dies.

Her body seems to flutter and pulse until it shudders into foam. The water soothes you as you sink. You stay on the ocean floor for what is close to forever. The years pass, but water remembers.

It remembers the screaming, the fire, the way the undercity shattered like a dropped mirror. The shards spun out and out. You never braved the world, then. You would come close to the surface, float backward and bent as you watched the sky smear into green gas and heat. The water—and therefore you—remember the taste of ash and gunpowder, the iron-rich flavor of blood and revenge.

But mostly, you remember her—that odd girl with chaos pumping inside of her like a second, third heart who came stumbling through the wreckage of her old workshop, trailing ghosts and grief like a burial shroud.

You've been watching her for days. Your kind has always been drawn to broken things, to the places where pain bleeds into water until you can't tell where one ends and the other begins. She fascinates you with her paleness, with her long body that is painted and bared by the shoddy work of her pants and the cut of her top. You hide behind large chunks of driftwood, eye the swivel of her hips as she paces and turns. Her eyes are strange, too pale ghosts colored silvery blue. She closes them, opens, closes.

She is like a small bird, this woman. She carries destruction in her hands but cradles it like a wounded animal at times, afraid to hold too tight, afraid to let go. The first time she breaks, it's like watching a star collapse.

She falls to her knees at the water's edge, her wail echoing off the mineral-crusted walls of what was once her sanctuary. Her hands tear and tug at her braids as if she could rip the memories right out of her skull, like plucking loose the weave of a tapestry. The water around you shivers with her anguish, and your body preens; it tells you that you cannot stay hidden any longer.

You rise from the depths like a dream, your hair carrying traces of phosphorescent algae that provide a lazy glow as it swirls around your face. Her eyes fix on you, fever-bright and wild, but she doesn't run. Maybe she thinks you're a hallucination. Maybe she's just too tired to be afraid.

You understand this.

The silence lasts for a while. The two of you exist across from one another, your face settling on your hands as you inch forward. She has yet to notice the flutter of your tail, but it's only a matter of time. You can see the light refracting off of it into a million sparks of light, dancing across the ceiling as you near her.Her mouth parts and you feel your own hinge open. You are trying to remember, trying to make yourself just like her if only to assuage her fear. Your tongue unfurls, neat and a deep blue. She blinks in surprise, which allows you to speak first.

"I am [Name]," you say, and your voice is a gentle purr like someone has stumbled over the strings of a harp. You are learning, thinking of how humans relate to one another. You don't tell her your real name, your name birthed by ocean and the melt of your mother's scale in the middle of your tongue. You are a woman of a thousand white waves, because every woman in your family has a thousand of something. "This, here, is my home."

You reach out now, because you have seen this before. Her people hug and grasp at one another in welcoming. The woman jerks, falls with a sick crunch on one of those pale hips in an effort to get away from you. You are hurt, and alarmed, and retreat further into the water. Your hand is still clawed as if to hold hers.

"Get back," she warns, voice raw and hoarse. Her eyes repeat their pattern. Close, open. Open and close. You close yours to see what she sees. Your eyelids are thin, translucent. The world can still be seen. She is right in front of you. "I'll hurt you. I'm a curse; I hurt everything.”

You open your eyes now, reach for her anyway. Your scaled hands catch hers, gentling them away from her hair. You smooth the strands, like your sister would do to you when the poachers came.

"My kind cannot be cursed," you tell her. This close she can feel the vibration, the way that your voice carries echoes of tidal pools and deep-sea trenches. "We are older than magic, older than pain. A different kind of creature."

She laughs, and it sounds like breaking glass. "Yeah? Well I bet you've never met anything like me before."

But you have. You've seen the way trauma can twist a soul, how it can make someone forget the shape of their own heart. You've watched your own kind waste away from grief and pollution, watched your bloodline dwindle to almost nothing. You recognize the look in her eyes—it's the same one you saw in your sister's before the toxic waste claimed her, before disease took your mother.

"Do not tell me what you think I know," you answer and she fidgets within your hold.

You are unsure of how to calm her, so you rummage deep inside of your long memory. You think of your mother. Now, you know. You pull her into the water with you, and she thrashes at first—all spinning limbs and desperate gasping. She is much like a fish at the end of a hook, you think. But you hold her, humming an ancient lullaby that vibrates through the water around you both.

Your singing voice, your Melody was always more unsightly than the others. So much higher and almost dissonant, like the cry of a whale during its migration. You mostly Sang alone, while others Sang together. But it winds around Jinx; maybe she is dissonant too. Slowly, so slowly, she stills.

"This is my body," you murmur, pressing close, your scales catching the ethereal light. "And this is yours." Your hands trace her tattoos like star maps, feeling the stories written in ink and scar tissue. You pause at her stomach, feeling an old grief there. You cast your Melody again, and it falls like a net over the skin underneath your fingers.

"You had a child," you say softly, and she goes rigid in your arms.

"Yes.” She admits this truth as if it hurts her. “She was not—not mine.”

“What was her name?”

“Isha,” she chokes out. “She was... I was supposed to protect her."

“Mmm,” you say. “She was yours. I can feel it. She was yours, and you lost her.”

You adjust your embrace, thumb at her bottom lip to reveal her blunt teeth. You have no understanding that this is not normal, that this touching and holding and avid tenderness is not of their culture. This woman, this bloodless weeping woman gazes at you.

“Your motherhood,” you murmur, “sits inside you like a stone. It is closed, like an oyster. You must name it to begin to release the pain.”

You press down on her lip.

“What is your name?”

“Jinx,” she whispers.

“Good,” you tell her. “So, you are Jinx. Jinx, mother of Isha.”

The words seem to break something loose in her, and suddenly she's crying—great, heaving sobs that shake her whole body. You hold her through it, letting her tears mix with the mineral-rich water of your grotto. Strange woman, you think. She is a strange, sweet thing.

Her stomach tenses and releases, over and over. You never once stop your Song.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Days blur together after that. Time moves strangely here. The two of you are a jigsaw puzzle of connection, platonic or maybe familial. You do not ask, preferring to preserve what you have.

Jinx is shy in the first few moments, a trait you suspect is unfamiliar to her. She builds herself a nest above the waterline: a chaos of stolen furniture and salvaged tech that somehow fits the space perfectly. You watch her work, fascinated by how her hands can create as easily as they dismantle. Sometimes she catches you staring and explains things to you—human concepts that make little sense but delight you anyway.

You measure progress not in days but in small victories: the first time Jinx falls asleep with her head in your lap, fingers curled trustingly around your scales. The morning she lets you rebraid her hair, your webbed fingers gentle against her scalp as you weave strands of luminescent crystal through the blue. The day she shows you how to make paper boats and sets them afloat with tiny lights inside, until the cavern ceiling reflects a mirror image of the stars she remembers from her brief childhood.

You offer up knowledge in return. You speak the thick language of old, born of trench sand and sulfur cracks. She loves when you sing, when your mouth unhinges to show your blue tongue and slightly jagged teeth. She wades into the grotto, standing in the shallow water that barely reaches her ankles, and closes her eyes. She sways as your Melody flows over her, shivering as if touched by cold.

You usually finish the performance by swimming to her, carefully holding her ankles between your extended claws and calling directly to her. This is your favorite—a secret you keep close. You adore how she gazes down at you, how her eyes trace the curve of your slick breasts and torso as you rise to meet her.

You climb until your noses brush, and then you laugh, a sound like the gentle puff of a flute. When you laugh, your gills seize and flex, and Jinx places a hand against them, tracing them until you crook your neck and trill. (That's her favorite.)

"[Name], you can't just walk around topless all the time," she tells you one day, trying not to laugh as you examine a shirt with obvious confusion. The fabric flutters strangely in her hands. "Humans are weird about bodies."

"But they're just bodies," you say, running a webbed hand over your scales. Again, her eyes follow. She closes her eyes, thinking of how your breasts are round and soft like the moon in her hand. You reach out, drawing her closer until she's touching you. "See? This is just flesh. The body is only a house for our soul."

She grows quiet then, thoughtful in a way that makes her look younger. "Maybe that's why I'm so messed up. My house is... kind of a disaster zone."

You pull her close, letting your tail manifest and wrap around her legs. "Then we'll build you a new one. Piece by piece."

The trust comes in fragments, in stolen quiet moments. Some days she can't bear to be touched, and you give her space, watching from the depths as she paces and talks to ghosts you can't see. Other days she's almost peaceful, letting you massage her scalp or teaching you human games with cards that always seem to explode at exactly the wrong moment.

One night, the voices in her head were particularly loud. You hear it from beneath the water—you sleep closer to the surface since meeting her—and rise to find her jolting in her sleep. You don't think, only move, remembering to rid yourself of your tail only when it scrapes against a sheet of metal jutting from the sand.

You hum agitatedly, distressed by her furrowed brow and trembling body, then take her deeper into the grotto than she's ever been before. Here, crystal formations pulse with bioluminescence, casting rainbow shadows on walls that have never known sunlight. Schools of blind fish dart around you both, their scales glowing like fallen stars.

It takes her a while to wake, but you stay suspended and curled around her. You keep watch, eyeing the murky kelp forests that tease at your fins. There are other, older ways into this grotto that never bothered you before. But now, you're too aware of all the ways someone could reach the jinx resting in your arms.

You see bubbles snort from her nose as she begins to stir, and you move quickly to pluck a shell from the rainbow-dusted walls. The inside is sticky and suctions to her mouth, threading a tendril inside to loop around her lungs and better facilitate her breathing underwater. You don't understand why it works, but you've seen the surface swimmers use it before.

Jinx makes a horrible rasping noise before the shell's work settles in, and then breathing comes easier. The shell is now translucent and attenuated. She cups your side as she shifts in your hold, her unbraided hair thick around her face.

"This is beautiful," she whispers, and for once there's no edge to her voice, no great waiting catastrophe. You know she means you.

"Thank you," you respond, smiling with all your teeth. She smiles crookedly back.

"This was my mother's sanctuary," you tell her, leading her to a cave where ancient glyphs cover the walls. You see her back bend with the water's pressure, and you slow your pace. "There used to be many of me, my bloodline. But the surface world's poisons reached even here." You trace one of the symbols—a spiky, spherical rune that you think means 'confession'. This glyph is older than you, part of a complex language no surface dweller nor merfolk of this time has spoken in millennia. "Now there are only three of us left."

She's quiet for a long moment, her hand finding yours in the glowing water. "Does it ever get easier? Being the only one who survived?"

You think of your sister's last days, of your mother's fading voice. "No," you answer honestly. "But it becomes... different. The pain changes shape, becomes something you can carry without breaking."

She leans into you at that, and you feel the tremors that always precede one of her episodes. But this time, she doesn't fight it. She lets you hold her as the chaos revisits her, trusts you to keep her head above water—in a manner of speaking—as she shakes apart and slowly, slowly comes back together.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

It doesn’t simply disappear. Jinx is one of the spirits’ favorite souls to torture and possess.

Most nights, the past continues to crawl up through the cracked floors of the grotto like a cadaver, its saccharine breath seeping into Jinx's dreams until she wakes screaming. And on most of these nights, you find her in her nest of blankets and broken things, her skin fever-hot and her eyes seeing horrors you cannot share.

But after you take her down, beneath the surface, it is different. Now, most nights, she comes to you.

The pattern is the same: you hear her bare feet on the stone before you see her, padding toward the water's edge like a sleepwalker. Her hair is almost always loose, falling around her face in a cascade that reminds you of the sharp stretch of evening sky across the Arctic Ocean. Then she reaches the pool's edge, but she doesn’t stop.

The water accepts her like a lover, closing over her head in a gentle baptism. You rise to meet her, your form shifting in the dipping waves. You cup the nape of her neck and insert the shell. Your skin takes on its natural sheen, scattered with scales that catch the light like opals. Your hair moves as if still underwater even when you break the surface, glistening tendrils floating around your face. Your eyes are all pupil and hold the depths of the ocean, ancient and knowing, utterly without fear. You reach for her, and, like in the beginning, she still tries to pull away; you simply shake your head.

"Your curse cannot touch me," you remind her, your voice like water over stones. "I am not of your world." Your hands move to cup her face, thumbs brushing away tears that roll from the puffy cliff’s edge of her pale eyes. "I am of the deep places, the dark waters. We recognize our own, remember?"

Remember? You always ask her this. It’s all she ever does.

You rise fully from the water then, your form shifting like light through waves until you stand on human legs, naked and gleaming. You pull Jinx to her feet and begin to undress her with the innocent purpose of a child, unbound by human conventions of modesty or shame. She allows it, trembling—not from cold or fear, but from the overwhelming sensation of being touched without consequence, of being seen. She has yet to confess how much she needs this.

"This is my body," you murmur, pressing close, your scaled hands tracing the bridge of her spine. You are reminding her. "And this is yours. We are both such difficult creatures."

"I don't understand you," she whispers, but her hands come up to trace the patterns of your scales, mapping the places where your skin shifts from human to something else entirely.

You catch her hand and press it flat against your chest, letting her feel the strange rhythm of your heart—beating in time with the tides.

"Fear is for those who have something to lose. My kind has already lost almost everything. What's left is..." You pause, searching for words in a language not made for shadowy creatures like you. "What's left is precious because it survived. I am surviving. You are surviving with me.”

Something shifts in her expression then, understanding blooming like oil across the top of a gulf. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch.

"Show me again," she breathes, begging. Her breath smells sweet, like candy under the tongue and behind the teeth. "Please."

You take her deeper into the grotto than before, past the engraved walls and into the true heart of your domain. Here, the water is almost desperately alive, swirling with colors that have no names in any human tongue. Your tail manifests fully, lashing out. You seem to be made of living jewels. You are a terrible, beautiful monster; your body twists like a snake as you duck and dive. Jinx watches, transfixed, as you dance through the water, showing her your true way of living.

You do what your kind does when in love. You Sing. You Pull her.

"I've been trying to fix my machines," she says when your last note fades. You are shaking. You have never Sung that hard before. Your Melody has undone you, and you swim weakly back to her. She touches your face, dusts your cheeks with her pruned fingertips. "To make lights that look like this." She gestures at the bioluminescent display around you. "But I keep fucking it up. Everything I touch turns to..."

"A mess," you finish for her. These thoughts are not new. "But a mess is not always born of destruction." You guide her hand through the water, watching the way the disturbed bioluminescence creates new patterns, new constellations. "Sometimes it's just change. It is new, without guidance. You are trying again, relearning. This is only necessary disorder."

She laughs, but it's softer than usual. "Is that what I am? Disordered?"

You pull her closer, letting your tail wrap around her legs as you float together in the heart of the sea. "You are what you choose to be. Here, in these waters, you don't have to be anything but yourself." You pull back so that you can see your hands as you sign to her, curl your fingers into the symbols she’s seen on the walls.

You have changed me. You mouth the words so that she truly understands. You sign it again, across her naked chest so that she can feel the drag of your claws and the pump of her blood in response.

"I don’t feel changed, and I don’t want to ruin you. What if I am still broken?" Her voice cracks on the last word.

"Then be broken here with me," you tell her, pressing your lips to her temple. "The water remembers everything, but it also cleanses. It changes. It heals."

She turns in your arms, and for once, her eyes are clear. No fever, no muddle—just Jinx, looking at you like she’s seeing you for the first time. Her hands find your face, thumbs tracing the almost invisible scales at your temples. You raise your hands, fingers contorting as you sign once more.

We have changed each other. It is a symptom of love.

Jinx says nothing, then she moves. You forget how agile she can be at times. With a few spritely movements, she is holding your waist and treading water. One hand comes up, cradling your face. There is a pause, and you glance at her, eyes wide with confusion and anticipation. This is new. She studies you, and you belatedly realize she is waiting for something. Permission, you think.

“Yes?” you ask. She smiles; it’s the right answer.

She slips out the shell, and you startle. This is dangerous, but she doesn’t care. She stops you.

Her hand nestles thoroughly in your hair, tilting your head until your flesh is exposed to her lips. Again and again, she presses her mouth to your neck. She suckles, nips, until your tail flicks. She is kissing you. You’ve never been kissed before—not like this.

Her teeth dig in, needling at the meat of your throat until it’s mottled and bruised. Then her lips come up to yours. At first, you breathe into her mouth to give her oxygen. Jinx pulls back, grips your jaw, and shakes you slightly. Then her lips return to yours, applying pressure until you open your mouth and allow her tongue in. She licks at your teeth, tracing the points as she holds you to her.

You feel lightheaded, disoriented. You feel good; you want more of her. After a long while, she breaks the contact. Her thumb settles at the base of your throat, slipping to the side to play with your gills. You trill sharply, and she laughs. You don’t want to say it, but you know—you want it to stay this way forever.

Jinx takes her shell from where she had placed it on her stomach. She allows it back into her throat, breathing in deeply. Then she lifts her hands and signs to you—clumsy but earnest.

Yes. You have changed me. It is a symptom of love.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

"I used to think I had to be loud," she tells you one night, floating on her back in the shallow parts of the grotto. Her hair fans out around her head like spilled ink, and you can't help but run your fingers through it, watching the way it parts around your hands. "Had to be crazy, had to be Jinx, because if I wasn't, then I'd have to be... her. The girl I was before. And she was weak. She got left behind."

You hum softly, the crystals below resonating in harmony. "Perhaps she wasn't weak," you suggest, tracing the constellation of freckles on her shoulder. "Perhaps she was just unfinished, like a pearl before the ocean completes its formation."

She turns to look at you then, the emotion in her eyes making your heart beat in that strange double rhythm that only happens when she's near.

"Is that what you're doing?" she asks. "Finishing me?"

You shake your head, pulling her closer until she's cradled against your chest, her back to your front, both of you suspended in the gentle current. "No one can complete you but yourself. I'm just... holding the space for you to do it.”

She's quiet for so long you think she might have fallen asleep. Then: "I’m in love with you." Her voice is barely a whisper, as if the words might shatter the peace.

Instead of answering, you press your lips to her shoulder, right where a new tattoo is healing—a pattern of waves and crystals mirroring your own scales. You helped her design it, watching in fascination as she used her clever hands to create the automaton.

"For us," you tell her, "it is different. We don't fall in love the way humans do. There's less emphasis on choices. It’s more like... finding a current that matches your own, something that pulls you in the same direction for the rest of your life. I've been swimming in your current since the day you arrived. There’s a vibration you release, deep inside me. You set it off, again and again."

Your mouth works oddly around the word "belly." She smiles at your struggle, turning in your embrace to press her forehead to yours in the way she knows you love. Her hands find your face, and you press a kiss to her fingers, grazing your teeth over her thumb. She shivers, captures your mouth briefly, then tucks herself back against you. Drowsy, she begins to dream and you let her, drifting your body lazily along the stretch of water to rock her.

It is then that you hear them—footsteps on stone, careful and measured. You recognize them instantly: the heavy tread of the enforcer, the lighter step of her companion. They've been searching for months, following rumors of blue hair seen in the Undercity's depths.

Jinx doesn't hear them, not yet. She’s drifting in that peaceful place between wakefulness and sleep, her body trustingly pliant in your embrace. She’d had an episode before this—memories of fire leaving her shaking for hours. But now she's quiet, her breathing synced with the gentle lap of water against stone.

You sense her presence before you see her, a disturbance in the air that makes the algae pulse brighter. The Sister. Her presence feels much like Jinx’s but more weathered, carrying the weight of blood. It catches in your throat unpleasantly, making you want to cough. Her footsteps falter at the grotto's entrance. The other one—Caitlyn, you recall—steadies her with a touch, but neither makes a sound.

They stand frozen at the sight before them: Jinx floating in the ethereal water, her hair unbound and threaded with living light, her face peaceful in a way they've never seen. Your tail curls protectively around her legs beneath the surface, scales catching and reflecting the cavern's natural light until it seems like you're both in some unreachable heaven. You bare your teeth to shatter the fantasy.

The Sister’s sharp intake of breath echoes off the stone. Jinx stirs slightly, but you soothe her with a soft hum, reworking her lullaby until the water itself vibrates in harmony. Her fingers tighten briefly on your arms before relaxing again.

When you meet the Sister’s eyes over Jinx's shoulder, you see tears tracking silently down her face. There's recognition there, and grief, and something like hope. You see the moment she understands what you are—not just a creature of the deep but a guardian. Her sister’s keeper; her sister’s mate.

Caitlyn moves forward as if to speak, but Violet—yes, Violet—stops her with a gentle touch. They watch as you shift slightly, letting them see how Jinx's newest tattoos mirror your own patterns—not random splashes of pain and memory but flowing lines that speak of partnership, of flesh and form meant to slot into one another.

A soft noise escapes Violet’s throat, something between a sob and a laugh. Jinx stirs again, and this time you let your gaze drop deliberately to her face, your webbed hands smoothing over her shoulders in a gesture that couldn't be more clear: She is safe here. She is loved here.

You raise a hand, your eyes slipping into their true state to make your threat clear. You know the Piltover girl will understand; her home is the home of poachers. Safe, you sign. Then, Go.

The Sister nods once, tears still falling. Her hand finds Caitlyn's and squeezes hard. You watch understanding pass between them—the recognition that sometimes healing happens in strange places, that sometimes love wears unfamiliar, frightening faces.

They turn to leave, but at the last moment, Violet looks back. Her lips form words you can read even across the distance: Thank you. Only when their footsteps fade completely do you press a kiss to Jinx's temple, tasting the salt of tears that aren’t your own.

"Are they gone?" Jinx's voice is quiet, still heavy with sleep.

"Yes," you answer honestly, because you've never lied to her and won’t start now.

She turns in your embrace, pressing her face into your neck where your scales fade into skin. "I'm not ready," she whispers. "Not yet."

"You can stay here," you promise, letting your tail wrap more securely around her. "For as long as you need. But you will not lose me. I will not lose you.”

She lifts her head to look at you, and her eyes are like silver dollars. You mimic her blinking for what must be the millionth time. Open, close. Close and open. She smiles at this. You smile, hollowing your throat to coo, mimicking the call of a bird of paradise. She laughs now; you are pleased.

"Tell me again," she murmurs. "About your promise."

Your tail flicks as you nod.

“I will never leave; I will only follow,” you begin. The words are heavy, sacred mating rites belonging solely to your tribe. “The water flows across the earth; it is immovable. It is the human that will fade, not the earth, not myself. We will both replenish. Where you go, I will be there—past death and beyond.

Jinx rises, cupping your face firmly, her touch restricting your movement.

“Promise?” she asks, her voice dipping low, laced with danger.

“I promise.”

She presses her lips to your neck, her teeth sinking in as always. You let out a high, trembling sound, your control slipping. Suddenly, you’re human, treading water. Jinx hooks an arm beneath you, lifting you effortlessly as the water renders you weightless.

“I promise.”

You repeat it, over and over.

IpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseI promiseI promise��

Jinx drags you from the grotto, positioning herself over you. Your words are still spilling out like a mantra.

“I know,” she murmurs.

Her warm, sugary lips cover yours, silencing you. She swallows you down.

⚚ special taglist: @thatgrlnany @bubblestrbls @iluvwomensm @so-calledstr8 @the-record @blackdykegirlblogger @bugsinmypantsono @drgnflyteabox @montmorencys @rottngrl3 @vifilms @stupendousbananasharkcop @vminswrld @sevslefthand @fleshunger @soniiyi @sunhurtz @shootingc @diorblusher @nightlyconfusion @darkerstarsstuff @dollinin @16novvs @reign-azzz

#jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #arcane headcanon #arcane fanfic #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane x reader #female!reader #fem!reader #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #mine ; 🐎.

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xazse · 8 months ago

Note

where is the satosugu merman au? 😞

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ GLOWING ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Merman Gojo! x Merman Geto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Size difference + hermaphrodite!Satoru/Suguru: meaning they have a “vagina and a cock” + Virgin!SatoSugu + Lots of plot holes tbh + Fem!Reader + smut + dom!reader + blood + typos and not proofread

Notes: tell me I cooked cmon now, I realize that this might not be some of you guys cup of tea and that’s perfectly okay!, yk I feel like my works could be way better if I had a proofreader I’ll look for one soon, enjoy! I LOST THE LAST PART SO I CHANGED IT

Merman Gojo and Geto who were swimming dangerously close to the shore, they know they aren’t allowed that close but their curiosity was killing them, they’ve found this little area that humans aren’t aware of yet so they decide this is the place they decide is theirs, it’s a nice rock with some land behind it, the small piece of land is hidden behind the thick trees, they come to lay against the rock and enjoy its warm surface, and it’s a nice place to get away from everyone to enjoy the company of each other.

Merman Gojo and Geto who come to their place again and are met with a little human on their rock (you are small compared to them). You’re huddled up in a ball facing away from them, to be honest this is their first time seeing one up so close, gojo looks at geto mentally talking about what their next move should be, it should be to go back as to not be seen but their curiosity is killing them once again, so they take a risk and slowly approach the rock.

You whip your head around to the sloshing of the water and find nothing, but something out of the corner of your eye has you looking down and finding two men looking up at you with two big eyes. You’re very startled of course you are, you center yourself on the rock away from them. They haven’t said anything which freaks you out even more and looking at them more closely you realize they’re extremely pretty but also a little weird? It’s their ears, they’re flared like? Like something out of a book. You should be screaming and running away but something in you makes you grab a little broken piece of rock, and throw it at the white haired one.

“Ow?!?” The snow haired one is quick the grab the place where the rock landed and soothe it, his forehead. The black haired one hisses at you and turns his attention towards his partner, also attempting to soothe him.

Ah’sorry, but you had it coming you startled me”

They both look up at you, glares decorating their faces, but they also look offended at the mere audacity of your words and tone. You pick up another little rock and hold it in a way like you're gonna throw it, you aren't but right now you prefer to be left alone, seeing no need to converse with whatever they are. They both swim back a little and through the water you get a glimpse of their bodies. A mermaid?

Before you get the chance to see if your eyes are deceiving you they turn tail and swim deep underwater, the shininess of their tails slowly disappearing in the dark depths of the water.

The next day you're in their spot again, aren't humans supposed to be afraid of what they can't understand? So why are you here even after seeing them, Suguru had even hissed at you: that usually works against the smaller merman's and mermaids to get them to behave or go away. Such a small thing like yourself had managed to make them run away and they weren't okay with that. You even had the audacity to throw something at him? Who the hell did you think you were? Yaga has told them countless times that humans were selfish beings who constantly take and never give back. That they should stay as far away as possible but they find themselves a little curious about you in particular, they could literally kill you and leave no evidence behind should you provoke them further.

It was just going to be Satoru today, Suguru has decided he wanted nothing to do with you and insisted Sator to stay away as well, lest something bad happens to him, He had assured him that he was strong and could definitely fight if need be. Suguru thought about your build for a moment, you didn't look very fast so he trusted Satoru's word.

They both approach the rock slowly, sharp fingers gripping the boulder gently.

"It's you two again." You look visibly displeased, you make a shooing motion with your hand hoping they'll leave.

"This was our place first by the way, until you you came here, pesky little human" the black haired one says with so much spite in his voice it could kill, as well as his dark glare. "Well you weren't here to claim it when I was so...." "Not how it works" the white haired one exclaims in a matter of fact type tone.

"mmm... how about we share?" You offer and continue: "we could do like days, a type of schedule." "We don't want to share with the likes of you" it's the black haired one again.

You roll your eyes and continue to pick at the rock below your feet. Satoru stares at your face and body, his hand unconsciously makes its way towards your leg, you're quick to jump back further upon the rock. Weird, his hand felt weird around your leg.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm Satoru and this is Suguru"

These encounters happen even more, Satoru and Suguru find themselves in your company everyday, they find your quick and bold personality to be interesting.

You’ve allowed them to get closer to you on the boulder, you’d even let Satoru touch your thigh, he did go the whole nine yards and grab the fat in his hands. The entire time there was an unexplained look in his eyes, something dark. Suguru still hasn’t touched you yet simply because he’s still a little bit wary, you didn’t hold it against him and offered that whenever he wants he could, he seemed content with that.

It was just another day of relaxing in the sun and enjoying the sounds of the waves whooshing, creating a nice atmosphere.

“Would you try getting in the water with us?” You expected to be answering Satoru but to your surprise it was Suguru who was asking, his purple golden eyes staring up at you with that same weird expression Satoru possesses when he stares at you.

“I’m not properly dressed to swim” you answer, you turn your attention back to Satoru who’s absolutely reveling in how your soft hands are scratching his head, you think you can hear purring coming from him.

“Just swim without these” Suguru says while pulling at your shorts.

“I can’t exactly be nude around… well men”

“Why not? Ugh you humans and your weird customs”

“S’not weird Suguru” you continue and tilt your head thinking for a minute: “I could swim in my bra and underwear”

“What’s that?” Suguru deadpans

You giggle, of course they wouldn’t know they’re practically nude themselves.

“It wouldn’t hurt to paddle around for a little.” You get up off the boulder, with protests from Satoru for you to keep rubbing his head and walk off somewhere they can’t see you undress yourself. You come back shortly to the two adult men looking like puppies as they take in what you look like without that huge shirt you frequent. You sit on the boulder near the edge and dip your feet in: it’s warm.

Satoru is quick to grab at your waist and guide you into the water, he still holds even when you’re in the water. This feels weird and through the water you can see their pretty blue tail and purple tail, they’re really shiny. You get to look at them even closer, what the hell are they using on their face to make it so clear, they look like models, they’d make a fortune should they ever decide to walk on land.

Satoru pulls you to his torso and deeply inhales how you smell.

“All humans smell like this?” He asks and you shake your head, “we all have our own unique smell, some worse than others” Suguru leans in to also sniff at you, them being this close makes your stomach twist but not in fear, it’s something primal. You shift yourself out of Satoru’s grip and float freely on ur own.

“What are the females like, the mermaids?”

“Mmm… they’re pretty nice, though they tend to avoid us, as in us I mean Satoru” Suguru answers while side eyeing Satoru who rolls his eyes.

“Let me guess it’s because of his obnoxious personality?” You also spare a glance at Satoru who in turn huffs.

“They’re boring, too plain for someone like me” He puffs out his chest in an annoying manner. “Rightttt”

“And plus I have Suguru, I’ve no need for other companions!” Satoru’s huffs out with the brightest smile on his face and hugs him tightly, it’s hard for you to hold back the little giggle in your throat at just how much he adores him.

Satoru and Suguru have been once again getting curious about you, more curious than usual. They’ve been asking questions about everyday human life, how you guys swim but don’t have webbed feet like most sea animals, they ask about the food and you’ve brought them plenty of treats, Satoru enjoys the sweet things a little too much and Suguru enjoys salty savory things.

They’ve been touchy too, when you’ve had enough of the water and want a quick break, they’re quick to start feeling up your legs, Satoru had gone up sliding his fingers to up your thighs and without thinking he slips his finger in-between, he just barely grazed your pussy but just before he could go further you snap up and grab his wrist.

They both stop their ministrations to stare up at your face.

“Not so uhm- close Toru.’”

“Why? What is it? Did I hurt you?” He tenses up a little in your hold, his facial expression visibly distressed and you’re quick to shake your head aggressively.

You don’t know how to explain it, they both are grown men but you’re not sure if their species has sex, well clearly since they’re both here, they have to be reproducing somehow. But also they could be doing it in a different way, you’ve read all sorts of books on the different ways animals conceive to continue their lineage.

You’ll be blunt, and if they’re confused you can throughly explain it.

“It’s like, a sexual organ?” Gross, saying that out loud makes your body feel like it’s on fire.

Suguru is the first the burst out laughing, basically doubled over.

Satoru follows right after, tears in his eyes from just that statement alone, so they do know what it is just not on humans.

“We know what it is, we just didn’t know you humans had them as well or rather we don’t go into depth about what we have” Suguru explains after his laughing fit while Satoru nods along.

“So what do you guys have?” You question with a quirk of your eyebrow

Satoru’s long fingers grab and guide you back into the water.

“You really wanna see?” The devilish smirk on his face means he’s up to no good.

“Why do I have to see when you can just explain it?”

“It’s hard, we might use different words than you do, as well as a different language” Suguru quirks up, you’re a bit taken aback he’s not hitting satoru and telling him to quit teasing you.

You nod so easily, you feel a bit clouded and your cheeks feel warm. Satoru’s sharp fingers grab your wrist and guides it to the front of his tail, he lets you feel around until you discover a slit, you flit one finger inside and Satoru jumps a little, his grip on your wrist tightening down hard. It feels like you? Exactly how you’d feel when your knuckles deep in your cunt. You decide to test if it’s true, you start really slow when you’re pumping your fingers in and slightly out, he brings you into naked chest, completely smooshing your head and smothering you.

He’s shaking and whining but it’s barely audible, you’re truly so lost as the only thing you focus on is the movement of your digits, you’d think the way him and Suguru are so close they’d have done this before, they really do seem romantically involved but maybe you were wrong. He was just so cocky a moment ago perhaps it was a rouse to get you to touch him?

You’re a little ticked, they think you’re dumb, think you don’t know they’ve just been wanting to get touched. You wrap one of your arms around Satoru’s waist bringing his bottom even closer to you. You angle your arm downwards to find a spot, if you have a spot inside of you that pushes you over surely he’ll have one too. You can’t see from your position but Satorus lip is bitten red from trying to stifle the moans that are now slipping out.

His nails dig deep into your arm as a wanton moan comes from the deepest part of his throat, you press inside again and get the same reaction but a little more lewd. From then on you keep doing that over and over, and he’s a fucking mess, he’s whimpering about how weird this feels and he feels something coming.

Satoru has pleasured himself plenty of times but when he decides in this moment when it’s done by someone else it feels so much better, so much more pleasurable. He’s so worked up and you’re so focused you don’t notice how his cock has slipped out of the other slit, any attempt for you to touch that too dies on his tongue instantly.

Suguru is staring with need and a red flushed face, his body aches as he stares at Satoru’s expressions, you’re making him feel so good that he wants the same treatment.

Of course you haven’t forgot about poor Suguru, his long black hair cascading around his body as he avoids eye contact like the plague. You beckon him over when you manage to pull away from Satoru just a little. He listens well just like a puppy, you guide him behind you and take his much larger hand and press it to your underwear, motioning for him to pull them off. He does with a little bit of struggle successfully get them off.

You decide you don’t want prep, just want to hurry up so the poor man doesn’t feel left out. Suguru understands a little bit and takes his cock out, you once again guide him to your hole. He groans as he pushes inside, easily able to. It’s hot and he can feel you already squeezing down on him. He stills for a moment and buries his head in the crook of your neck. He can’t will himself to go as fast as he wants, just like Satoru he masterbaits his fair share but it takes him a while to actually cum, but right now he can already feel that familiar feeling in his gut.

You’ve stopped your ministrations on Satoru and he doesn’t like that one bit, he leans down a little and playfully takes the fat of your cheek in his mouth and lightly bites down, it’s a cute gesture of his jealousy.

You start up fingering him again, he sees that you aren’t going to pay attention to his cock so he begins stroking himself in tune with your fingers, and fuck he’s so close.

“Mmnh.. feels’ so good..” he sobs out the electrical thums through his body bit by bit, until his stomach contracts abruptly and he’s cumming in his hand and tightening around yours You slide your fingers out of his slit while he rests against you open mouthed panting.

You let Suguru continue to fuck into you, whilst he’s clawing and gripping deep marks into your skin. He shakes and shakes, his cock has never felt this good, is this what all humans feel like? Or just you specifically.

“M’ gonna cum, so badly…” “need to need to..” he repeats the mantra. He bites down on your skin, breaking the barrier just a little, revealing a little bit of blood that he laps up quickly, Satoru leans down to also taste the blood, pink tongues taking turns cleaning the wound.

It handn’t occurred to you that maybe little Suguru cum inside of you wasn’t a good idea. So you slowly push his cock backwards a bit and he whimpers so adorably, about to protest you start stroking him, quickly too. He’s cumming with a choke of air.

Your head starts to clear and you realize what you had just done, basically took one’s virginity and fingered the other one to completion, they both came but the point still stands! You’re quick to pull yourself up onto the rock, disturbing the two males who were basking in their afterglow and cuddling deep into your skin. They look confused as to why you got out, and panty-less: you leave for a moment to retrieve your shorts and shirt from on the beach and come back to them.

“You’re leaving?” Satoru questions quietly, you feel an arrow going right through your heart when you look at his sullen face, both of their sullen faces, clearly pouting and not wanting to let you go.

“No Satoru, it’s just getting a little late so I’m gonna head back home.” You wave giving them a soft smile and walk back the way you came, you don’t dare look back because you can feel their stares.

You do eventually come back a week later, you’ve been attempting to get your thoughts and mind to work functionally.

Satoru and Suguru aren’t there like they usually would be, you still hop up on the rock hoping they’d come, you can wait for a little.

They do eventually show up, tufts of White and black hair peek out, you can see the gleam in their eyes when they land on you.

“Finally, finally” Satoru exclaims while swimming towards you and immediately attempts reaching to grab that sweet snack he loves.

Suguru pulls him back and whispers something in his ear, Satoru pulls back away from you and glares daggers at you.

“You left us.” Suguru speaks up.

“I know, I’m extremely sorry, I brought snacks?” A nervous smile appears on your face as you hold up both their favorite treats.

“Treats? Do we look like pets that’ll bend over and accept that terrible apology?”

Satoru is halfway on the rock as you feed him to sweet treats, his cheeks becoming chubby as he hums in content. Damn bastard suguru thinks to himself.

You rub and ruffle Satoru’s hair as he preens and purrs at the affection: he’s so damn cute.

“Cmonnn Suguru.. you know you want it.” You emphasize by shaking the food. “I don’t want it.” He deadpans.

“Perhaps you want another treat?” You tug your pants and panties down as they watch entranced and already wanting.

Satoru quickly grabs a hold of your thighs, you place your hand ontop of his “Not yet Toru” he huffs in displeasure which makes you giggle lightly.

“I’ll let Suguru go first k?” Satoru nods but he clearly isn’t pleased he’d even share eating you out with suguru if it means he’ll get to taste you. Suguru begrudgingly swims towards you and pulls you closer towards his mouth, he isn’t showing it but he’s already growing hard.

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moonlight-alexia · 13 days ago

Text

forever with you | a.p.

alexia putellas x reader | 2.5k | forever with you sounds perfect to alexia, there isn't anyone else she'd rather be with / alexia proposing to you

italics indicate that it's a little memory/flashback

ˏˋ°•*⁀ it is officially the 4th here in aus, my favourites birthday <3 so here is a little alexia fic for her birthday. i hope you all enjoy it

‘Ah mi amor,’ You let out a small laugh as Alexia gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto her lap. You’d both been caught up in celebrating the supercopa win, along with Alexia and her captain duties, you hadn’t seen much of each other, ‘I’ve missed you,’ You let out a soft sigh, smiling as she tucked your hair behind your ear.

‘I’m here now Ale,’ Leaning into her touch you placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth, lightly teasing her.

Though Alexia wasn’t having any of that and swiftly pulled you in for a kiss. Your lips softly brushing against each other, adding more pressure and deepening the kiss.

‘Dios mío, get a room,’ You heard Mapi yell before something soft was hitting you both making you pull apart. A silent agreement between you and Alexia that you were both ready to go back to your hotel room. Wanting to spend some time where it was just the two of you.

Alexia was already in bed when you came back from the bathroom. You always took a lot more care and had a much more in depth skincare routine than Alexia did so it was quite common for her to already be in bed, waiting for you. More times than not after a big match like the one you just played today, Alexia would already be asleep, even if she’d wake slightly when you slipped in beside her and protest that she was just resting her eyes and not really asleep.

But the protests always died when you’d pull her into your side, arm wrapped around Alexia’s waist, her neck snuggled in the crook of yours, a soft kiss on her forehead and she’d be back asleep within seconds.

Though tonight, even though she was physically tired, Alexia knew she wasn’t going to get the best sleep tonight. Even with the thought of being cuddled up against your side, the weight of the ring she had in her bag, packed so delicately and very well hidden in case you went to grab anything out of her bag like you normally did, would be on her mind all night.

No matter what the outcome of the final, Alexia had the proposal planned. Perfectly planned exactly how she knew you would like. Planned

‘Ale, did you need-,’ Except, those plans went out the window the moment she looked up at you as you were making your way to bed. You were wearing one of Alexia’s hoodies, the one that you’d claimed as your own when the two of you first started dating. Your favourite of Alexia’s and you’d always make sure she wore it right before you’d go to your respective national teams. Helped you sleep better before matches if it felt like Alexia was there next to you.

Most of Alexia’s clothes were slightly too big on you and the hoodie was just that. Your hair you had messily put up in a bun, not caring how it looked since it was only up so it wouldn’t get in your way when going through your nightly routine knowing you would take it out the second you got into bed. The warmth of the light from the lamp hitting your skin just right, along with the natural glow of your skin.

To Alexia, in this light you looked utterly beautiful, no words could accurately describe just how gorgeous you are. At least none that could ever do it justice in Alexia’s eyes. It’s in moments like this that Alexia wishes she could take photos with her eyes, she just wants you to see and understand how you are to her. As if the small smile and dreamy look in her eyes whenever her gaze landed upon yours wouldn’t tell you on its own. You were the one for her and she never let you feel any other way or leave room for you to doubt her feelings for you.

Alexia’s known for a while that she wants to marry you. You stole her heart and never gave it back, not that she minded you kept it safe and unbroken. It was a moment quite similar to this one right now when Alexia realised that she wanted to officially spend forever with you.

It had been a long day at training, even more so since you’d lost the last game. Losing wasn’t something you’d often come across these days playing at Barcelona, but it wasn’t something that you could avoid forever. The lows always helped to make the wins feel that much better.

There was always an intensity to training and after a loss it was always much more intense. So going home, the home you shared and built together with your girlfriend, made these days feel that much better.

‘Ale,’ You softly sighed, turning your head so you were looking up at her, ‘You’re sending me to sleep and it’s still so early,’ You were laying with your head on Alexia’s lap, a movie on in the background while she was caught up with, you were sure it was, something related to football on her ipad. Her fingers gently playing with your hair and, every now and then, running softly along the back of your neck.

‘Mi vida, just relax,’ Alexia’s attention was fully on you now, leaning down lightly kissing the top of your head, ‘You deserve it cariño,’ The softness in which she spoke to you always made your heart flutter and your body fill with warmth. She knew how hard you worked and how you struggled to let yourself rest when you needed it.

Alexia peppered your face with soft kisses, deliberately skipping your lips each time she got close, ‘Amor,’ You whined softly, Alexia smiled, her hand tracing along your jaw while her lips hovered above yours. You were about to whine again when she let them connect. A slow, deep kiss, lips lingering against yours momentarily when she pulled away.

‘Te amo,’ You whispered it back, both of you in your own little bubble, ‘Now rest, I’m right here if you need me, not going anywhere,’

Alexia gently rubbed along your back while you curled up even more against her. It didn’t take long for you to allow yourself to relax with Alexia, it had always come naturally. At the end of the day her arms were your safety, whatever happened during the day didn’t matter as long as you were in her embrace.

The glow of the afternoon sun slipped through the bottom of the blinds, the glow illuminating your face. Some days your schedules were packed full, so Alexia always enjoyed these quiet moments with you. Whatever she had been doing on her ipad was fully forgotten, she was captivated by you.

The thought of forever with you, of marrying you, popped into her head that day. Realising that she would be content with spending every moment of her life with you, wanting to share every moment and achievement with you. Knowing that without you by her side she wouldn’t feel completely whole. From that day she’d started planning and trying to figure out the perfect proposal, though Alexia would never forget the day that made her almost accidentally blurt out a proposal.

It wasn’t even a loss, but it was a very sloppy win and it hit Alexia harder than anyone could have anticipated. She had seemed fine afterwards, but you’d failed to realise she was just going through the motions completely on autopilot. Alexia wasn’t the loudest or most out there person but she wasn’t the quietest either.

Alexia couldn’t help but put even more pressure on herself. It was a habit she had, along with your help, tried so hard to stop. The pressure to be the best all the time, and you hated seeing how she would shut down when the weight of that came crashing down pulling her with it. That didn’t stop the occasional slip and Alexia falling back into that habit, one that came so naturally to her.

‘Lo siento, mi amor,’ You crouched down in front of Alexia. You don’t recall hearing Alexia speak a word since you both got home, though you’d been distracted trying to get the both of you something to eat, ‘I should’ve noticed,’ Your voice was soft and small. You weren’t necessarily talking to Alexia right now, knowing that she wouldn’t really be listening to anything outside of her own head.

‘All those missed chances,’ You knew she was thinking about the game before she’d even said it. She was fidgeting with her fingers so you took her hands in your own, your thumb gently rubbing over her hand.

‘You know it wasn’t just you. You don’t have to be perfect for us, there’s no such thing and you know that,’ Your voice still had a softness to it but there was a slight firm undertone, one that was needed to break through all the self doubts that was filling her head, you needed her to hear you, ‘There are days when, despite everything we do, it just doesn’t click for us out there. But we will come back stronger next time. You’re not alone in this and you don’t need to carry the weight of it all by yourself. You’ve always got me, the team and the fans. No one needs- I don’t need you to be perfect,’

You could see the conflict in her eyes, the hesitation to believe what you were saying, ‘It’s not you that has to fix everything all the time. Yes you’re our captain, pero amor, lean on us we’ve got you, I’ve got you. You are more than enough exactly as you are,’ You brought each of her hands up to your lips, softly kissing each knuckle while looking up at her.

A deep sigh, Alexia nodded slightly leaning forward so her forehead was resting against yours. You wrapped your arms around Alexia, tightly holding her against you, ‘Gracias, mi amor. How do you always know what to say, what I need,’

‘Because I just know you Ale,’ Another way to say you love Alexia, a way that means more to her than she could ever tell you, ‘How about a warm bath and an early night? Bubbles in the bath?’

‘I’m not a kid,’ Alexia’s voice was small and you could hear the small pout her lips were forming.

You chuckled softly, ‘Oh my mistake, so you really really don’t want a warm bath with little bubbles,’ Your tone was teasing.

‘Con una vela vainilla y pequeña, por favor,’ Alexia kissed the side of your neck, you could feel a small smile against you and your heart felt a little lighter knowing Alexia was going to be okay.

When you wrapped her up in a soft, fluffy blanket in bed later that night, holding her close to you. She almost asked you to marry her, while she took care of you, you never hesitated to take care of her. To let her know it was okay to not be the one to take care of everyone all the time. Alexia let you take care of her, she felt safe enough to do that with you.

Her plans didn’t matter anymore, right now was perfect.

‘Alexia…’ Your voice cut through, bringing Alexia back to reality. You were now standing at the side of the bed, lightly waving your hand in front of Alexia’s face. She registered the use of her name and raised an eyebrow at you, ‘Knew that would make you come back to me,’ You smirked knowing there’s only certain times when she doesn’t mind you using her name and right now wasn’t one of them.

‘¿Estás bien?’ You asked since it had been a long day, you’d more than understand her being tired but zoning out was on the more unusual side for Alexia.

‘More than,’ Alexia couldn’t wait any longer. You were confused when she sprung out of bed, almost like there was a fire she had to get away from as quickly as she could, ‘You’re so beautiful,’ Alexia had circled the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist bringing you into her, her other hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into her touch, your face heating up at the intimacy. After all these years together and Alexia still made you feel like you were a teenager having her first crush.

Alexia kissed you deeply, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed once she pulled away. There was this goofy, lovesick smile that wouldn’t leave her face when she looked at you. You sitting in front of her, in her hoodie, in your natural beauty and the thought of forever felt like it would never be long enough with you.

‘Mi vida, wait here, por favor,’ A small chuckle left your lips, still confused with Alexia’s sudden actions but she was cute so of course you listened and watched her rummage through her bag.

Walking back towards you, hands behind her back holding the box out of view for now, Alexia suddenly grew very nervous. She didn’t have any doubt that you would say no, but she was second guessing if it was the right moment for you. It felt right for Alexia so she pushed through the doubts, also worried that she wouldn’t find the right words or convey them in the way she wants to. She didn’t have that extra mirror practice like she had planned to have the night before.

A small timid, partly awkward still partly goofy and loved up, smile graced her lips, ‘Mi amor, I had this all planned out but looking at you right now, seeing you and just being here with you, nothing has ever felt more right,’ A small gasp left your lips when Alexia knelt down on one knee, revealing the box and the ring inside it to you, ‘You are so beautiful and I really love the life we’ve built together. There is no one else but you, you are the one for me, we just fit together like we were made for each other. Like you were made for me,’ Your eyes were starting to well up with tears with each word Alexia spoke. She was pouring all her emotion and feelings into her words and you could feel it so deep within you, ‘I want a forever with you, mi vida, will you do me the honour of being my wife,’

So overcome with emotion, it felt like all the air had been sucked from your lungs. You nodded furiously and let out the smallest, ‘Sí,’ while you pulled Alexia up your lips crashing onto hers. Deep, breathless and full of a joy that couldn’t be contained between you both.

Alexia chuckled when you finally let her pull away slightly, ‘Amor, amor, I need to put the ring on your finger, por favor,’

You laughed forgetting that you skipped over that part entirely, just wanting to be close to her. Alexia took your hand and slid the ring on your finger, gently leaving a kiss to seal her love that would stay with you for a lifetime.

Alexia held you in her arms, your eyes transfixed on the ring that shone beautifully on your finger. You still couldn’t believe it, ‘This was perfect Ale,’ Whispering out into the soft comfortable silence that filled the hotel room you were staying in, ‘I love you Alexia,’

‘I love you, more than anything,’

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

liked by alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 130,809 others y/n if this is what i get after a cup win, what could i get after we win the champions league again 😏 ps. forever with you has a nice ring to it mi amor ❤️tagged: alexiaputellas

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #barca femeni #barca femini x reader

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