#memories { drabble }

[saetiate]

“what are you doing here, all by your lonesome?”

sae has his elbows on the bar, nursing whiskey glass in hand that looks entirely for show. even the ice ball within seems to click with disapproval.

“they’re loud.” the glass tilts in his hands, elegant fingers wrapped around, gesturing mildly to his teammates.

“and you’ve decided to, what? sit here all by yourself with those critical eyes, not saying anything at all? go girl, give us nothing.” sarcasm drips like the condensation down your own champagne glass, but when he glances at you, everything is lightened like effervescence with your playful smile.

”they’d be better players if they didn’t waste their time with this sort of thing.”

“would you say that to your brother?”

“i have.”

“wow, no wonder he turned out the way he did.”

sae almost frowns at that. what’s that supposed to mean?

he doesn’t get to ponder on it as you casually press your shoulder against his. he can feel your body warmth pressed against him so acutely. you act like it’s nothing. maybe it is nothing, to you. but it makes his heart do something he can’t explain.

you sigh, and even that feels soft to him. “just go talk to some people, even just for a bit. it’s an event.”

“you don’t like men who talk.”

you huff, lips upturning with your confusion. “what?”

“that’s what you said to oliver. you said — ‘i hate men who talk all the time on dates. it makes me want to ask them if they want my lipgloss too whilst they’re at it.’” he repeats your words in his own monotone voice, so flat that it would’ve made you laugh if it wasn’t for how you almost choke on your drink.

“you heard that?” the way you’re looking at him borders on incredulous.

he quirks an eyebrow. “you and oliver don’t talk quietly.”

“no, i mean — you remember?”

“i wouldn’t do that.”

“wha- what do you mean?”

he turns to you, his entire body language and attention on you for what feels like the first time throughout this whole conversation. it’s in this moment that you realize how close he really is to you. you can smell his cologne, feel his breath against your skin as he leans down towards you.

“if we were on a date. i wouldn’t do that to you.”

it’s now that he finally chooses to walk to his circle of teammates, who welcome him with a shout and raised drinks.

when he glances back, you’re so wide-eyed that he almost smiles behind his glass.

[yearninflowers]

Imagine…

Phainon, who would deem you as a sun and view you as the pinnacle of perfection in his life. He once saw you somewhere and decided to look into you after seeing how glaringly bright you are. Throughout his life, one haunted by the horrors of his past, you became the anchor to his reality, fully capturing his mind onto the present time.

The scream of the devil inside his mind hollowed out at the sounds of your laughter.

On some days, the scream was louder, harsher, even tempting.

Phainon, who would inscribe a sun over his neck just so he could get reminded of you every time he looked at a mirror. He sighed, caressing the sun softly as if he was touching you. Sometimes, once the sun had settled nicely to his skin, he would latch his fingernails to it, letting small prickles of blood flow out and taint the ever-so-lovely sun. His breath would hitch at the thought of you drenched in his blood.

Perhaps, the devil was him all along.

Perhaps, he was the one screaming inside his mind, scratching his soul with the itch to let loose and claim you as his one and only treasure, his sole sun.

Phainon, who would eventually relent to his desire, taking you all to himself. He would beg, down on his knees, for you to love him as he loved you. His heart soars high to wrap itself on your own, swallowing your whole being to be all his, alone.

“It’s my sign of love for you, Sunshine.” He whispered to your ear, forcing your hands to wrap around his neck.

He smiled, soft, as if proud of the bloody sun he had made.

[manytoonepoet13]

"You may not be my first, you may not be the only one I've shared my past with. But I shall hold onto eternity's vow I saw in your eyes, and hope you'd be my last and forever."

~Many To One Poet~

[yuansie]

ocean memories : why, then, did thy fall?

synopsis. desire is influenced by the impulsive need to have something in one's heart. desire is bad and it is dangerous—you learn this from the very being that was supposed to have a blessed bond with you, the being that was meant to protect you all.

pairing. rafayel x fem! non mc! reader

warnings. (implied) death, an argument somewhere in there, mentions of hatred, destruction (?), reader prays bc lemuria going through it oops 💔💔 if there is anything i'm missing, please let me know!

genres. angst

rating. pg-13

w/c. 2.1k

a/n. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAYYYYYYYY this is my gift to you heh... not proofread. we die like them today I MEAN WHAT

YOU FOUND A HUMAN BOOK ON ONE OF YOUR IMPROMPTU VISITS TO THE SURFACE WHEN YOU WERE A TEENAGER, and it had described an interesting concept that fascinated you to no end: time for humans. to humans, time is precious for they don’t have a long lifespan. time can fly by fast for them before they know it. for lemuria, time goes by slowly. lemurians have longer lifespans, immortality making a day for a human seem like a hundred years to the ancient civilization.

yet time has flown by fast for you in these recent months.

perhaps it is because you do not speak to the god of tides anymore, or it is because of the appearance of his most devout follower.

when it was revealed that rafayel had taken a human to live in his temple, lemurians were baffled. you spoke to them in a calming voice, easing the worries that began to swim in their heads.

the attention the devout follower was receiving, the words being whispered about her, eventually reached rafayel. he appeared to them while you lead a prayer, revealing to them that she is his devout follower before leaving.

of course, you were left with the aftermath of a panicked lemuria, one that questioned the intentions of their god. you told them that it is a good thing, the appearance of the devout follower, for it means that he will soon be the sea god.

lemuria calms down, and you are left with a heavy heart.

“please, put the flowers at the base of the pillars,” you instruct, watching the lemurians helping you prepare the temple for the ceremony. “and have them go up and wrap around the pillars.”

“yes, divine priestess.”

you smile, glancing to your side. arabelle stands next to you, her attention elsewhere. you tuck her black hair behind her ear, making sure it won’t tangle itself with the string of the veil she wears around her mouth—the one you used to don when you were training to be the god of tides’ priestess. “what is on your mind?”

arabelle looks at you, her silver eyes hesitant. “…miss priestess.”

“yes?”

“why are you not with him? are you not his devout follower?”

are you not his devout follower? the words echo loudly in your head.

“…it is because i am his priestess,” you answer carefully. “i cannot be the devout follower for the ceremony for i am needed by both the temple and the people.”

a deep and vibrant blue taints her silver eyes, seeping into the irises until it is fully consumed. glowing, blue eyes stare into your widened ones.

“you are his most devout follower,” a voice rings out from arabelle’s throat, sounding like rafayel’s yet different. “you are the one with the most blessed bond with him, the only one chosen by the deep sea and sea god.”

you watch as silver slowly replaces the blue in her irises. arabelle frowns, “it should be you in the temple tomorrow, miss priestess.” she quickly waves her hands in a panicked manner, shaking her head. “not that i doubt the god of tides! it just makes more sense for you—” she stops, her gaze downcast as you chuckle.

“it is fine to have doubts,” you tell her, gently ruffling her hair. “just don’t let anyone hear of them.”

the bells ring, and you and the girl watch everyone inside the temple trickle out before the doors close. you hold out your hand, arabelle grabbing it, and lead her to the room you used to stay in when you were younger. your eyes rake around it, noting how it lost all of your quirks and now reflects arabelle’s personality. her desk is piled up with neatly stacked books and sea shells decorate her walls.

“you know where to find me if you need anything, right?” you ask by the door. arabelle nods as she takes off her veil, grinning at you. “then i wish you a goodnight.”

“goodnight, miss priestess!”

you make it down the hall before a familiar voice speaks up.

“i did not know that i appointed a new priestess.”

he emerges from the shadows of the corridor that leads to your room. you spare a glance at him before walking past him, merely letting out a huff. “is that so?”

the god of tides follows after you. “why did you not tell me?”

“i am busy,” you shrug. “after all, i have to prepare the temple and the citizens accordingly for the ceremony. it is only natural i take in a child in these… lively times.”

“but that child was not chosen by me.” there is exasperation in his tone, and it irks you. what is there for him to be annoyed at?

“did she have to?” you swivel around to face him and tilt your head to the side, your eyes slightly narrowed. “you are busy with… your own affairs, so it falls to me to make these decisions for the greater good of lemuria.”

dual toned eyes stare at you with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint. perhaps it is anger that swirls in his blue and pink irises. “you—”

“i do not have time for this,” you mutter, turning around and continuing your walk back to your room. “and neither do you.”

“but y/n—”

“priestess y/n,” you correct, stopping at the entrance of your room. you push the door open and pause, “it is priestess y/n, my lord.”

“my lord?” the god of tides repeats, baffled. “since when have you called me that? since when have we used titles?”

“i have realized that i have grown lenient,” you reply, taking a step into your room. with a deep breath, you continue, “you and i have grown lenient.”

“lenient?” he repeats. “why do you say that?”

“because a priestess should not be calling their god by first name. our relationship should not be what it is now.”

“what are you—”

you take another step inside, twisting around to face him. your heart pounds in your chest, painfully aching at the words you’ve uttered. yet, you do not back down. he chose this as soon as he brought forth the human as his devout follower, and you are finally drawing the line. you should’ve done it ages ago for your relationship was never supposed to grow to this extent.

there was always going to be a line separating the two of you, and you both chose to ignore it when you were younger. but you are older now, so you will finally address it.

“goodnight, my lord,” you say, slowly closing the door. “rest now, for the ceremony is tomorrow.”

there is a soft clicking sound the echoes quietly in the dark corridor as soon as the door closes.

there is a statue outside of the temple, one that the head of the village had commissioned to get done when you were a kid, of the god of tides. you kneel in front of it, eyes closed and your hands clasped tightly. you are tense and rigid, arabelle’s words repeating in your head like a broken record.

the sea god and his devout follower have gone to the surface.

you want to let out a bitter scoff, you want to roll your eyes to the back of your skull at his sheer audacity to do such a thing on this important day.

but you don’t.

you instead pray, but you don’t pray to the god of tides. no, you pray to the deep sea. you pray that today be blessed, that the ceremony would go smoothly.

there is a shift in the currents, the singing of the fishes of his arrival flows into your ears.

“the ceremony will begin now,” you mumble, eyes still closed. “go tell them. i will continue to pray.”

there is a shuffle next to you followed by running footsteps that soon fades away.

you sigh, shoulder slumping. let the ceremony go smoothly, you pray, give him the strength to do what must be done. you pray to the deep sea because you aren’t sure if he will do what has to be done.

a sudden chill falls on you like a blanket, making your eyes snap open. whalefall city is plunged in darkness, and the sea is silent until your ears pick up the panicked shouts of the lemurians. you rush into the city, finding everyone gathered at the bottom of the road that leads up to the temple.

“divine priestess! has the ceremony gone wrong?”

“what are we to do?”

“divine priestess, what is going on?”

“are we doomed?”

“my brethren,” you say softly, holding out an open hand. bright, blue swirls appear, rendering everyone silent. “you must stay calm. the ceremony is still ongoing. we—”

everyone screams and yells as the ground suddenly shakes, the sea growing violent as it sends currents everywhere.

“stay close to me!” you yell.

you’re about to fall onto the ground after another violent shake from the seafloor, yet the water holds you above the ground. the deep sea, despite its anger, is still looking after you.

but the same cannot be said for the rest.

much less for him.

because everyone gasps, their attention drawn to the crumbling sight of their beloved temple. your eyes are wide with shock.

the ceremony has—

the shaking stops and the sea is calm.

“miss priestess,” arabelle walks up to you, a slight tremble in her hands as she places it on your arm. “has the ceremony gone wrong?”

you don’t know what to say. “arabelle—”

“look!”

the sea god emerges from the rubble, holding onto a tiny flame that flickers dangerously so… the devout follower is nowhere in sight.

“the ceremony is a success!” someone shouts.

cheers erupt amongst the lemurians.

“the sea god is among us now!”

no, you think. he is not the sea god.

the ceremony was a failure, and he has doomed you all. it is just as the deep sea had told you: disaster.

the sea god disappeared, leaving whalefall city alone with the divine priestess of the deep sea. he has not appeared in many years, not even as the city plunges to the depths of the sea. he does not show his face when you help everyone evacuate the city, though you don’t go with them.

“must you stay here alone, miss priestess?”

arabelle now reaches your shoulders, having grown quite the bit over the years. you smile and ruffle her hair, “i must stay here and pray for everyone’s safety.”

“i can do that in your place!”

“you cannot,” you answer firmly. “as the divine priestess, i must stay here to pray in order to ensure everyone’s safety.” you sigh and grab arabelle’s shoulder, squeezing them softly. “arabelle, i chose you for a reason. you must lead them, help them build anew.”

the girl slowly nods. “i will do as you say, miss priestess.”

you smile wider, pushing her slightly towards the lemurians that wait for her. “go now.”

“miss priestess, will i… will i see you again?"

all you can do is continue to smile, “goodbye arabelle. may the deep sea protect you on this journey.”

you watch the lemurians leave their home until your eyes no longer can. that’s when you head to the ruins of the temple and watch with disdain at the crumbling statue of the person you used to love. you will the anger to go away, not wanting your last moments to be of hatred. no, you want your last moments to be filled with hope that the lemurians of whalefall city may build their new lives easily without trouble.

your eyes close when you start feel your tail grow lighter and how it travels up your body slowly. you mournfully sing goodbye to your people and to the sea you love so much, stopping to utter a final prayer to the deep sea.

“do not let me meet him again, oh deep sea,” you mumble. “i wish to not see him again.”

and then you’re gone, reduced to foam.

you’re gone and he heard you whisper your final words in the form of a prayer to the deep sea and not to him, making his chest feel like it is about to cave in.

you’re gone and he watched as you turned into sea foam, the color so alike to your hair that it makes him sick.

rafayel closes his eyes from where he is, letting out his final breath. what was the color of your hair before it had turned into the color sea-foam? he cannot remember.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist (open). @bakutual @nadinefromwhere @justmystical @holywaterbucketchallenge @megufushi @bellslovemachine @roobiedoobiedoo @reiofsuns2001

OCEAN MEMORIES, yuansie 2025

[superbat-love]

Green Lantern: So Spooky, truth or dare..?

Batman: I refuse to play your childish games, Lantern.

Green Lantern: Spoilsport. Fine, I’ll ask someone who actually knows how to have fun. Supes, truth or dare?

Superman: Truth.

Green Lantern: Tell us about your first male crush.

Superman: Wha-? I-I don’t…

Green Lantern: You have to tell the truth, Boy Scout~

Superman: [sighs in defeat] I was a kid.

Green Lantern: Ooooh, was he a celebrity?

Superman: One day, a family from out of town drove by my house, and their big fancy car suddenly broke down. They were stuck there for a while. I saw this boy around my age sitting in the back. He looked pretty lonely, so I invited him to play baseball.

Green Lantern: Did you fall in love with his athleticism?

Superman: Err…he kinda sucked at baseball. So I tried to teach him.

Green Lantern: So he was wowed by your athleticism.

Superman: Not really, he threw me over his shoulder.

Green Lantern: [bursts out laughing] That’s hilarious! Sounds like something you’d do, Spooky!

Batman: …

Superman: We sparred for the entire afternoon and his family stayed for dinner. It was fun. Sadly we never met each other again after that.

Green Lantern: Should have known you’d go for the fiery ones. What do you think he’d say to you if you meet him again? Can you imagine the Superman having a crush on you?

Batman: He’d say you’re an idiot.

Green Lantern: Hey! Nobody asked you, Spooky. Well, what would you say to him if you meet him again, Supes?

Superman: I just hope that he’s happy now, wherever he might be in life.

[ayyy-pee]

Center Stage

suguru whimpers as he pounds into you, folds your legs until there’s a knee on each side of your head. you're so good he has to bite back a gasp when your walls squeeze down on him, gripping his cock so fucking hard he sees stars. his eyes roll back when he reaches a hand down to your clit, swollen and sensitive and he feels the sudden gush of your arousal drip down between your bodies. suguru loves how your tight little cunt always takes him so well, how it makes room for him and holds him like it never wants to let go.

every thrust, every roll of his hips, every slap of your skin meeting has suguru leaning down to groan into the crook of your neck. he doesn’t let up, pounding into you like a man possessed. and he is. your pussy makes him insane, makes him want to scream, makes him want to fucking cry.

it feels like heaven in your walls.

suguru loves to look between you, where your bodies connect and see the creamy mess you’ve made on him. fuck he loves how your pussy always makes a mess. it’s one of his favorite things about you.

that and the way your lips part when he pistons his hips a certain way, touches that sweet spot you love. how your head falls back and your back arches when he wraps his thick fingers around your neck, makes you hold his weight as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. the way your little moans fall from that pretty mouth he loves to bury his cock in. he loves all of that.

he loves the way your hands find his hair and you pull. not gentle at all, just the way he likes. you’re as a desperate and fucking needy as he is.

“come on baby. tell me how much you love my cock.” he pleads. he knows you love it. you've told him plenty of times. but suguru also loves to get his ego stroked.

“i love it, ah- fuck, fuck i love your cock!” you whimper beneath him like the good girl you always are. all he ever has to do is ask and you’ll deliver every time. so obedient. it’s why you’re his favorite.

suguru can feel your walls softly convulsing around him. you’re so close. but while your words were good, they’re weren’t good enough. so suguru slows his pace, staring down at you with half lidded eyes. he wants you to do it right.

“pretty girl forgot her manners,” he chides, clicking his tongue. “i love your cock, what?”

he bottoms out with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, your fingers tightening in his tresses and he chuckles, his dick twitching within the confines of your cunt.

“oh fuck! i love your cock master geto”

there it is.

you peer up through your lashes at the man above you and the smug smile on suguru’s lips sends you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm rushing over you, your body shivering as wave after wave hits you. and your sweet lips muttering his formal title, it has him burying his face in your neck again, whining as his hips stutter with every sloppy thrust until his balls tighten.

he grips your thigh hard, high pitched whimpers falling freely from his mouth as his cock stiffens and his hot, white seed fills your twitching pussy. the release has suguru shaking, struggling to hold his weight as your pussy milks him of every fucking drop.

you’re both panting, both catching your breath as suguru kisses you desperately, pressing kisses to your face, to your lips. and he’s still cumming

“m-master geto,” you mutter between kisses. he hasn’t pulled out of you, just keeps rolling his hips into your slowly, softly as he continues to litter your lips and face with kisses.

suguru hums in acknowledgment.

“you’ll be late to session tonight,” you warn him. “you know there will be big donors there. you don’t want to be late.”

ah yes, the work never stops for suguru. he would love to stay here, on the floor of his stage but it wouldn’t be a good look to have his donors and worshippers walk in on you both in the middle of such a salacious act.

and you, his most favorite follower. there's no way in hell allow anyone to leave the room alive if they saw you this way. no, you're meant to be seen by him this way and him alone. even with your current situation, he knows you are loyal to him. so with a hiss, suguru pulls out of you, smirking when he sees the way you pout at the loss of fullness.

cute.

“come and see me after session” he tells you with one last press of his lips to yours. he crawls off of you carefully and fixes his robe. you nod, watching as he exits the room.

he knows where to find you.

suguru always finds you the moment he enters the room, packed with worshippers ready to give themselves to him. and you’re among them, loyal as ever to him, even as you bow politely and pledge yourself to the organization alongside your husband.

[sunflowersunite]

What if

Armin visits Levi post war, smiling and warm. Seeing him feels good, they hadn't realised how much they one another. It's good to know he's alive.

Annie stands a little farther, a child tugs at her skirts, squirmish and round-faced and short-legged. Levi squints to take a better look at him but he's too far away.

Another is perched in her father's arms, a hand in her mouth in all seriousness. Armin's curious sparkle shines in her eyes, behind a curved nose.

Levi's heart clenches in a cruel second-long recognition, a mere shade running across his eyes that dissolves in seconds. The odd familiarity of her caught him off guard.

It's enough for Armin's sharp eye to notice.

"That's Zoë," he says with a smile and lowers her to the ground.

Levi's throat clogs. Zoë.

She looks so much like Hange.

So her name won't be remembered as just ink on paper, a soulless list of her accomplishments as Commander. She'll be remembered for her bright eyes and grabby hands, her laughter and the lightness of her step. Even if only by a handful of people.

The wind rustles the laurels strewn around his garden. That must mean she's smiling, wherever she is.

"Hello, Zoë," Levi greets in earnest, and the girl grins.

[lildoodlenoodle]

Some random Hobie information from the comics! I’ve specified where the movies might come in and fanon stuff!

Hobie, despite having a British/cockney accent in the movie and in the comics, lives in NYC in the comics(movie might b different).

Hobie is a homeless teen(I’m pretty sure his parents died) radicalized by his dystopian world.

He’s been Spiderman for 3 years(movie so most of his comics have probably passed) and his world is a weird combination of 1970s-1990s.

Canonically bad at naming things.

His friends/band are tired of his shit and regularly make fun of him for saving the multiverse.

The cops in Hobie’s world all have the venom symbiote, he uses his guitar to play frequencies that disrupt the symbiotes.

He kills Norman Osborn twice.

Yes he kills cops.

Full name is Hobart.

Originally he hated being called Spider-Punk.

He works with his worlds Daredevil(Mattea Murdock), Captain America(Captain Anarchy), Hulk(Robbie Banner), Ironheart(RiotHeart), Ms. Marvel, etc.

Most people in his ‘band’ can’t actually play lol.

With facism one of his other greatest enemies is capitalism and being ‘marketable’.

Hobie’s design was originally meant to be Spider UK, who later became Billy Braddock.

He also got a symbiote dog called Spider-Mutt in his latest run.

Gwen Stacy was a famous rockstar who died in his world, Hobie was a fan!

He was originally recruited to what I affectionately call the ‘Interdimensional Spider Death Squad’ run by the Superior Spider with Spider Noir (and eventually Miles and Jessica joined right before the teams merged)rather than the other group of spiders.

He was the one that brought Miles back into the ‘spider society’ when the inheritors came back.

In the comics he lives in a Welfare center in Brooklyn he and his friends/band operate, in the movie he lives in a boat!

Hobie has an interdimensional band with Gwen(drums), Pavitr(keyboard), Noir(bass), Anya(1616 vocals), and Ham(air guitar)

I can’t remember Hobie having any romantic interests in his universe, but fanon wise he is often shipped with his canon gay friend, Captain Anarchy aka Karl Morningdew, but Karl does have a canon boyfriend. But outside of his universe there’s a whole host of possible ships and some do include: Hobiemiles / punkflower hobiepav/chaipunk hobiegwen / ghostpunk

[5sospenguinqueen]

Sebastian: You can trust me! Let's not forget who saved you from the Inferni the other week.

MC: Let's not forget who created them in the first place!

[omegaovaries]

prompt: memories | ao3

Ace notices little details of people’s appearances more often than he’d like to admit.

It’s easy on the Grandline – Ace has seen and met and fought more people in a year than he has in his entire childhood on Dawn. There’s all different sorts of people to meet, to avoid, to just be around it almost makes him dizzy.  

It takes a while before he catches onto what he’s doing. 

He stares a little too long at blond men and women, watching the sunlight catch into their hair, watching the moonlight make the strands glitter. He stares at certain shades of blue too long – blue ribbons and waistcoats and denim and eyes. But especially the ocean. He has to shake himself awake from a trance somedays, staring out at the waves that can be so bright they mirror the sky, staring out at indigo waves only illuminated by moonlight.

The Spades noticed after a while and eventually the Whitebeards do too. 

How his eyes would linger on top hats and hair that would curl just so and how sometimes, he would go quiet and watch the waves from the highest point on deck, thumb rubbing across the embroidery of an old but well kept handkerchief. They notice how on certain days Ace is too loud or too quiet, staring out into the ocean at random moments, fingers unconsciously pressed against the ‘S’ in his tattoo. 

When Luffy’s first wanted poster comes out, instead of saying ‘my little brother,’ Ace will sometimes say ‘our little brother.’ 

Before Ace leaves Luffy near Alabasta to continue his hunt for Blackbeard, he tells him, “We’re proud of you,” easy and automatic. Luffy’s quick “I know,” comes out just as easy.

They both freeze for a moment before Luffy smiles at him, wide and sunny. “I know you guys are.”

[whump-in-the-closet]

Haircut

content: forced modification, noncon haircut, creepy and intimate Whumper, I wrote this in a fever dream let me know if I missed any tags

Whumpee sat, slumped, on the stool. Defeated.

The bathroom light glowed faintly, and the blue reflection staring back at them from the mirror looked like a stranger. They couldn't stand to look at it.

The room was quiet except for the sound of scissors clicking open and shut in a deliberate rhythm that made Whumpee’s skin crawl.

Open and shut.

Whumper stood behind them, holding the scissors in one hand and a comb in the other. "Your hair’s gotten too long," they said casually. "It doesn’t suit you."

"I like it this way." Their voice wavered at the tiniest display of defiance.

Whumper chuckled, stepping closer. "You don’t get a say in that, darling. Not anymore." They ran the comb through Whumpee’s hair with slow, deliberate strokes, tugging just enough at their scalp to make them wince. "You’re mine to look after. Mine to shape."

Whumpee flinched as the first clipping of hair fell to the floor. It landed silently, a dark feather against the cold tiles, but to Whumpee, it sounded like a gavel striking. A verdict passed. Another piece of themself stripped away.

"See?" Whumper said, brushing the hair off Whumpee’s shoulder with a heavy hand. "It’s just hair. You’re making a big deal out of nothing."

It wasn’t nothing.

Whumpee clenched their fists, ragged nails digging into their palms as more strands fell, piling up around the chair like a cruel parody of snow.

"Stop," they managed, "Please!"

They tried to yank away, but Whumper’s hand was still on their shoulder, and their grip tightened, pinning them back into the chair.

Relentless.

Unyielding

"You’ll thank me later," Whumper said, their tone still infuriatingly calm. "Trust me, you’ll look better this way."

Whumpee bit their lip hard enough to taste blood. The sound of the scissors snipping echoed in their ears, louder than it should have been. Mocking.

When Whumper finally stepped back, they surveyed their work with a satisfied smile. "There. Much better. Don’t you think?"

Whumpee stared at their reflection, mouth dropping. You're kidding.

Before, their hair had fallen down their back but now Whumper had cut it short-- the jagged edges barely brushed the tips of their ears.

Their hands trembled, hovering near their head. They couldn’t bring themselves to touch it.

"I hate it," Whumpee said, their voice barely above a whisper.

Whumper’s smile widened, their eyes gleaming with something dark and victorious. They leaned in close, their breath hot against Whumpee’s ear. "I didn't ask what you thought, darling. You’ll learn to love it. Or not. Either way, you’ll wear it how I want."

Whumpee blinked back tears.

Whumper straightened, brushing stray hairs off their gloves. "Go clean yourself up," they said lightly, turning away as if nothing had happened. "You should look presentable when I take you out later."

Whumpee didn’t move right away. They sat frozen in the chair, staring at the tired stranger in the mirror; at the scattered pieces of themselves on the floor.

The room felt colder now. Emptier.

The AC buzzed; the air now cold on the back of their exposed neck.

Finally, they stood, legs trembling, and began to sweep up the hair.

[manytoonepoet13]

The Goddess' Affair

“Why does a demon write about looking at her?”

Perhaps it is due to your love so pure, it can heal me, pleasure me.

And your embrace… it can lead me to a place better than heaven and all things good and shining combined.

Engulf me with the truth of your chest, and the warmth of your words.

Look down on me, assert your title upon me, so I may claim it as mine.

Share me with every part of you and let me tie them with silk and lace.

Caress me like the stars do the sky.

Desire me like the moon does the sea.

Repel and I will pull you in.

Back down and I will kiss the horns that crowned your head.

No matter what you may do, I will always gravitate to the night you’ve brought upon my days, for the night is not as void as you believe.

It speaks of comfort, of respite…

It sings of sincerity, of desire…

By remaining together, I could have transformed you into a god.

But you plead you love me too much to bear the mere possibility of me becoming a devil.

Though, I must ask…

If an aura so dark you claim to hold within, why do I only see the star adorned eyes?

Why do I only hear the birdsong voice?

Why do I only feel a husband’s touch?

I’m more than certain a thorned beast, as you claim to be, is not who your heart raised you to be.

I’m more than certain the twilight we gave birth to was nothing but a symbol of the unspoken marriage between our hearts, our souls.

I’m more than certain things would only occur if we warrant them to.

That is how a goddess falls in love with a demon.

Crepusculum. Come back to me.

In response to @adreoss' poem, "The Devil's Due".

[yuansie]

ocean memories : and forever blessed by the sea.

synopsis. subtle changes may never last but it will leave a lasting impact on your soul. and because of desire, the mighty fall. you suppose that will happen to you soon.

pairing. rafayel x fem! non mc! reader

warnings. kind of slight talks of desire (as sin... kind of), implied kiss, mentions of anxiety. if there is anything i'm missing, please let me know!

genres. fluff, angst

rating. pg-13

w/c. 2.3k

a/n. HELLOOOOOO this is nawt proof read... again. WE ARE FINALLY AT THE ANGSTTTTT I LOVE ANGST IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE ANGST I BREATHE AND LIVE FOR ANGST HAHFAHWEFHAWE

YOU’RE SURE THAT EVERYONE HAS NOTICED THIS CHANGE; it is a change so bright that it is impossible they haven’t noticed. rafayel is often near you while you go about completing your duties: he is always next to you while you pray for the lemurians visiting the temple, heal those with injuries, among other things. but you are sure they haven't noticed this one subtle change, the one where blue and red colored eyes stare at you longer. you feel the way his gaze lands on you, how his stare lingers before rafayel averts his gaze to whoever it is that wants to speak to him.

if you can feel his gaze, then you are sure that he can feel yours.

“miss priestess?” the little girl from before, whose name is arabelle, tugs on your hand. you both are kneeling in front of a statue of your god, and your ocean eyes flutter open to meet her curious ones.

“yes?”

she fiddles with her fingers for a moment, replying with a timid voice, “why is it that you never show your tail?”

you smile and close your eyes once more. “well,” you hum, “showing your tail is related to how we lemurians confess our affections... if one believes our scales to be beautiful, then you know what that means.”

“what does that have to do with you?” arabelle asks, tilting her head to the side.

“a priest cannot love another but our god,” you answer, “their entire life must be dedicated to him; thus, why i cannot show my tail.” pinching her cheek, you continue, “do you still want to be a priestess to him knowing this? that you may never love anyone but him?”

arabelle gives you a firm nod, eyes full of determination. “i still want to serve our sea god.”

“god of tides,” you correct, “he has yet to do the ceremony.”

“but we all know he will be the sea god soon,” the girl beams. “there is no doubt of that.”

the bells of the temple chime loudly, so you get up from the ground and hold your hand out. arabelle grabs it, thanking you as you lift her up and take her to the doors.

“miss priestess,” she whispers, motioning for you to lean down.

you do so, blinking, “what is it?”

she cups a hand around her mouth, “he is watching you."

your jaw is slack when you lean back, watching the little girl wave goodbye to you as the temple’s doors close. you’re suddenly aware of him, his burning stare, and you are aware of the blooming heat inside of you.

“my priestess,” you can hear the amusement in his tone, and you shiver when he presses his hands flat against your shoulders, “you have been sneaking glances at me while on duty—why is that?”

the warmth he radiates makes you shiver and has your mind turning into mush. you can’t think, or maybe you don’t want to. you just want to be next to him.

“hm?” the hum he lets out is a low rumble, “why are you not answering?”

you swallow thickly, your throat suddenly dry. “you—”

rafayel drops his chin on your shoulder, his purple locks of hair tickling your cheek. “it matters not what you answer, for i know the truth that you may not even know yourself.”

honestly, you aren’t paying attention—you’re too focused on the dizzying warmth that hypnotizes you, lulling you into your thoughts where you can only dream what it would be like to indulge the desires you have.

you wish for him.

you crave rafayel, whether it is as his priestess or as any other normal lemurian, you crave rafayel.

your clear your throat and glance at him, “how is it being among your people for so long now?”

his lips quirk upwards, “it is fun.” he stands and you turn. “i like it a lot for i see you more often now.”

heat pours into your cheeks, burning like the sun you saw on the days you managed to go to the surface with rafayel when you were kids. “you… you should not do that,” you mumble, your gaze downcast. an inky fog seeps into your chest, tainting whatever it was that made you feel light. “that is not proper.”

rafayel doesn't say anything, instead choosing to gently tilt your head up to meet his eyes, both his hands on either side of your head. his eyes, always two-toned, are suddenly dark. the usual blue is akin to obsidian now, the color giving way to the red hue at the bottom of his irises. it is hypnotic and wipes your mind, leaving a blank slate. “you need not worry,” he speaks softly, “for i can do whatever i desire.”

you open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. “come.”

“pardon?” you raise your eyebrows.

he sighs, “come.” rafayel holds out his hand and you take it. a pleased hum resonates from his throat as he leads you away from the entrance of the temple and towards the back where his personal chamber resides.

“why are we here?” you pinch your brows together, confused, yet you let him drag you inside and push you on his bed. from there, you watch as he towers over you, a smirk plastered on his lips. rafayel presses his pointer finger to your forehead, pushing you so that your back is on the bed.

“we are here,” he says, taking a seat next to you, “because you need to rest.”

you move to get up and he only pushes you back. “i can do that in my quarters,” your tense shoulders relax. “i do not need to do that here.”

“i want you here,” rafayel peers at you, the look in his eyes rendering you silent. he leans towards you, carefully taking off the coral circlet on your head and placing it next to the bed. gently, he swipes his thumb over your cheek, his touch feeling like a warm breeze. “stay.”

“…am i to sleep in this?” you huff through your nose, lips quirked upwards in amusement as red begins to seep to rafayel’s ears.

“no,” he slowly says. “i will fetch your sleeping gown.”

it didn’t take long for rafayel to retrieve your gown from your room, and as he is about to leave, his eyes suddenly catch sight of something that sticks out from the desk in the corner of your room. it is so small, so well hidden that he wouldn't have seen it if it weren't for the corner that sticks out from under the slab of wood, the bright color on that small piece calling out to him.

so he approaches it, the curiosity swimming in his mind making his fingers twitch in anticipation as he reaches out to grab it. he gently tugs it out from under the desk, revealing a piece of paper with such vibrant colors plastered on it.

he is staring at himself on the paper.

the smile that breaks out on his features is contagious enough that any lemurian would mirror his expression with a glance at him. you drew him, and he didn't know you had such a talent. you drew him, and he could feel the delicacy of the strokes on the paper, the thoughts that plagued you as you intricately added details to his features shown on the paper.

you drew him because he is your muse.

you drew him because surely you reciprocate his feelings.

when he goes back to his personal chambers, the giddy feeling in his chest softens and is replaced by a quiet admiration. your chest rises and falls slowly, your sea foam colored hair framing your face. rafayel sits next to you, your gown slipping from his hold and falling onto the sheets of his bed, his fingers gently tracing the slope of your nose, going over your eyelids and falling underneath the blue paint drawn in the same symbols that decorate his face and body, and finally lands on your lips.

“my pearl.” he rubs your bottom lip as if in a trance, the softness of it putting him under a spell and convincing him into leaning down while closing his eyes. “my coral… my everything.”

he can feel you.

he can taste you.

you are the warmth that he craves, the warmth that he yearns to protect, the warmth that he wants to have.

and in the haze of his overflowing affections, the god of tides does not sense the slight twitch of your hand.

you are in the midst of healing an elder of whalefall city when a palm lands on your shoulder, the touch tickling you. your skin flushes at the contact, though you try your hardest to not be swayed by the temptation that swirls in your soul to indulge rafayel.

“my priestess,” he purrs, his honeyed voice echoing in your ears. rafayel looks over your shoulder and watches the blue light from your hands wrap around the elder’s head in swirls, glowing. “i see that you are working hard to wake this elder from his eternal-like sleep.”

“i am the only one who can do this,” you reply. “what brings you here? should you not be in the prayer room?”

“i am going to the surface.”

the blue light dims, and you face rafayel. “you mustn't,” you tell him. “all of lemuria is awake.”

rafayel hums. “there is something i wish to retrieve,” he pauses, the corners of his mouth curling upwards into a pretty smile that renders you breathless, “…something i wish to gift you. it is buried in the sands of the island.”

there is a look of determination on rafayel, the kind of determination that says that he will go regardless of what you say. you sigh, “you must be back before the end of the day.”

there is pleasant burn in his chest as he answers. “i will do as you say,” he whispers, his hand grabbing your own in order to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss that lingers on the skin of the back of your hand. “i promise you that i will be back.”

you wish time had ticked by faster, maybe then you wouldn’t feel deep anxiety take root in your chest.

“has there been word from the deep sea?”

taking a deep breath, you turn your head to the side and smile at the crowd gathered in the prayer room. “no.”

panicked whispers erupt amidst the crowd. you face the statue in front of you and close your eyes, clasping your hands tighter. “we are in times of peace,” you continue, “that is why i have not received word from the deep sea.”

“benevolent priestess of the sea,” someone says, “you have not even gotten indication from it about the ceremony?”

“the ceremony will be soon. there is no doubt that the deep sea will soon send word concerning it.” you really hope it does. “times of no strife can only mean that the ceremony will soon be upon lemuria, so worry not for our god will soon be the sea god.”

as the crowd leaves after the loud chiming of the temple bells, you can only pace in front of the now closed doors. rafayel has yet to return and the deep sea has not sent you word.

rafayel has yet to return and the deep sea has not sent you word.

rafayel has yet to return and the deep sea has not sent you word.

rafayel has yet to return and the deep sea has not sent—

you stop.

there is a familiar warmth that brushes past your arms, swirling around you in wisps of light blue. you cup your hands, palms facing the ceiling, and an empty oyster falls into your palm.

it falls quickly as it had landed in your hands, clattering against the stone, the singular word etched on it searing itself in your mind.

DISASTER.

with shaking hands, you lean down and grab the oyster, pressing a wobbly kiss to it. the oyster slowly become sea foam, and you make your way to rafayel’s personal chambers.

disaster… the deep sea has sent you a new divination: there will be disaster. will it be soon or later?

sea salt, lavender, cedar, hints of citrus.

rafayel is back.

you whirl around, your chest pounding with fear and relief. “rafaye—” his name dies at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel your heart slow down. your blood is cold as you watch him enter the temple, the body of a woman in his arms. “rafayel, what—”

“leave,” he mutters, walking past you.

there is a terrible ache that blossoms in your chest, an unbearable heat that presses against your heart. you do not want to leave, not when you have to discuss this new omen the deep sea has sent you.

but you walk out of his room without saying a word because at the end of the day, you are his priestess and he is your god.

the benevolent priestess of the sea does not speak to the god of tides, and it seems like all of lemuria has yet to notice.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist (open). @bakutual @nadinefromwhere @justmystical @holywaterbucketchallenge @megufushi

OCEAN MEMORIES, yuansie 2025

[generalsdiary]

Dan Heng's diary

about Caelus

yes, he is messy. but he won't harm others. yes, he is childish. but he won't be convinced into committing an unforgiving crime. yes, he digs through trash cans with an aspiring passion. but he will never blame me for his mistakes. yes, he is a human equivalent of a raccoon. but he is clever, he is kind and warm and will not allow others to take advantage of him. and he is loyal to the bone and when he kisses me... when I kiss him, sometimes I feel like he blushes more than me. how does it feel like to kiss a star? he is one giddy star. the type that giggles with a boyish charm when I kiss him goodnight. a bright star with abnormal warmth and I can't help but gravitate to him. to seek his body next to mine. which he is almost always eager to do. my cuddly Caelus. my... just. just cuddly Caelus. despite his preference for a soft bed, he always sleeps on the hard floor in the archive with me. one pillow, one blanket.

weirdly, he is quieter than me. I still recall his silence when he saw my Vidyadhara form. days later he explained that he was shocked... and found me extremely attractive.

"they look like popsicles"

"is that why you wish to see my original form?"

"no, it is so I could do this!"

it was a strange sensation. him licking my horns. it is little to say I was surprised. yes, he does out-of-pocket things. but he only has the best intentions and means no harm.

thanks to him I feel more comfortable in it. although, I only relax in that form when I sleep. it requires concentration to appear the way I usually do.

Caelus is also a menace in the way he will wake me up by nibbling on my neck, leaving small bite marks.

"in my defense, I like the way you sound when I do" he would usually use as an excuse.

Pom-Pom told me Caelus was soon getting his own room. that they have been working on a new part of the train. he seems excited about it. overjoyed even. he kept asking if that meant that he was getting a roommate.

last night, Caelus insisted that I share the room with him. promising to buy turquoise or blue sheets and play water sounds so that it may feel like the archive. ... he is adorable. my Caelus

first night in his room. what a messy sleeper. and cute in the morning. I woke up before him, which is rare. the room was chilly so I got my hands under his shirt and cuddled more for warmth. strangely I was woken up by him rubbing my scalp and leaving kisses on my forehead. I fell more in love with him that morning. the reasoning behind his actions he voiced with big golden eyes and a rough morning voice, "I'm happy". loving him feels easy.

"you like the room that much?"

"no, I'm not talking about the room."

"don't lie, you were practically screaming when you heard you're getting a room."

"okay, okay- maybe~ but screw the room if you're not with me."

yes, he is messy. but he won't break my heart.

(about Yingxing pt. 2)

[clarabellashere]

Daryl Dixon x Reader

tw: +18, smut (without sex because I don't know how to write that 😭)

no use of pronouns for reader

Animalistic, that’s how you would describe your feelings. 

When the end of the world is upon you something changes within yourself. Some would say that a part of you dies, humanity vanishes, but deep inside, you know nothing of you is different, you are no different than before, you have always been like this, felt like this, suppressed the need and hunger. 

You used to feel so weird when eating in public, something akin to shame of your inappropriate behavior when any sane person would know that eating an apple while walking is not inappropriate or “weird”. The hunger has always been there, your primal instincts have always been in you, embedded in your genes, your dna. 

Humans always forgot that they were animals. Now there isn’t really a difference, we survive and eat like any other pig, any other animal. 

There’s not much thinking, you act for your survival. And there definitely wasn’t any when you kissed Daryl Dixon. You had an appetite and acted upon your needs. And like the animals you both are, he answered by deepening the kiss and evolving you in his arms, flexing his muscles and pulsating with adrenaline. 

You were both on a run, being surprised by a dozen or so walkers in the abandoned grocery store. Your bodies drenched in sweat and black blood from the corpses, hollow breaths and heat emitting from your bodies. Your eyes locked once the last one of them dropped to the ground, gun and crossbow still aiming. You didn’t feel the small rise of your lips, Daryl did. 

Oh, how he loved that smirk of yours, that something tingling in your eyes. Your hair definitely escaping from your hair tie and sticking to your wet forehead. He fixated on a small bead of sweat glistening and traveling from your neck, to your clavicles until deep inside where he could no longer see but couldn't stop thinking about. 

With his eyes traveling from your chest to your body he lowered his crossbow and as his gaze went to your eyes, he walked closer to you, the proximity making you lower your own gun and rotate your body to his, stepping back once he was close to you, way closer than you have ever been. The cold wall making a gasp escape from your lips. 

With his eyes still fixed on yours, he touched your arm but didn't dare to move his hand, as if all the bravery he had in him vanished once he touched you, once he was sure it wasn’t one of the many dreams he had just like this. Once his skin was on yours, it was over. You didn’t care about being inappropriate, professional or any other crap you once used to hide your feelings, your needs. You launched yourself to him and pressed your mouth to his, tongue slipping in. 

Daryl didn’t hold back now, if you wanted him, he was yours. His body was yours. He hugged you tighter, your body fully pressed against him, your hands in his hair or on his shoulders, feeling him. His hands found their way under your shirt, loving the feel of your warm skin of your back against his calloused hands. 

Legs intertwined, moaning and gasping for air, sloppy kisses and playful bites in each other's skin. Animals is all you were.

[bandousama]

Hiii:3 hope you doing ok! I would like to do a req with mikoto x reader if you can :) some fluff please ^-^. You dont have to do this req but thank you!

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ‘growing love’

ft. mikoto suoh x pregnant! reader * ˚ ✦

a/n: hii ^-^ omg, yes i can! apologies if this feels rushed, wanted to have it out for you right away. hope you enjoy ~

mikoto's usually gruff exterior softened as soon as he discovered his s/o was pregnant. he became endlessly protective, often hovering around to ensure she was comfortable and well. whether it was rubbing her feet or bringing her favorite snacks, he was determined to show his love and care for both her and their unborn child. he also became even more affectionate, constantly showering her with gentle touches and tender gestures, silently expressing the depth of his love and devotion.

one night, as they cuddled on the couch, mikoto gently rested his hand on her growing belly, a tender look filling his eyes. "hey there, little one." he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "you gotta take it easy on your mommy, okay?"

y/n rested her head on his shoulder, a warm smile on her face as she felt his gentle touch. "you're going to be a great dad." she whispered, intertwining her fingers with his.

"damn right i am." mikoto replied, his lips curving into a smirk.

as the months ticked by, mikoto's protectiveness only grew stronger. he would insist on accompanying her to doctor's appointments, silently holding her hand as they listened to the reassuring heartbeat of their baby. mikoto would spend countless nights by her side, soothing her as the pregnancy took it’s toll on her body.

"hey, i'm right here." he would murmur, running his hand through her hair or rubbing her back as they lay in bed. "i've got you."

on days where y/n’s nausea was at it’s worse, mikoto would surprise her with ginger tea and dry crackers, knowing they helped ease her discomfort. he would also pamper her with gentle massages, his strong yet gentle hands seeking to soothe her aches and pains.

as the due date approached, mikoto became even more jittery. he spent hours decorating the nursery, determined to create a safe and soothing space for their baby. while the room was simple, it was done with love and care. during the last few weeks, he would lay his head on her lap, talking to her belly with a mix of nervousness and excitement. "hey, little one." mikoto said, his voice filled with tenderness. "you're almost here, and you've got us all wrapped around your tiny little finger."

as mikoto finished talking to their unborn child, he looked up at y/n fondly. "you know, this whole waiting thing is driving me crazy." he admitted, his voice tinges with a hint of anticipation. y/n chuckled softly, her hand gently caressing his cheek. "trust me, i can tell." she teased, a warm smile on her lips. "but our little one will be here before we know it. and then we'll be a family."